Donald Trump and Pope Leo now stand as arguably the most formidable Americans on the global stage, wielding influence and authority in distinct capacities and spheres.

An ascendant American global potentate’s apothegm: “Fight!”, whilst the first pope to proffer himself urbi et orbi as “Peace” did so in his inaugural allocution.

The juxtaposition of President Donald Trump and Pope Leo (Leo XIV), a Chicago native, is starkly delineated along political, personal, and ideological axes, as they wield leadership within utterly disparate spheres and capacities.

However, last week, with Leo's epochal electoral ascent to the Papacy, becoming the first American to shepherd the world's 1.4 billion Catholics, the planet's two most potent figures are now both Americans, a confluence that sparks inquiry into American influence at a juncture when President Trump's tariff skirmishes and "either way" pronouncements are perceived to be upending the octogenarian international order and fostering an American skepticism amongst allies.

The exigent geopolitical ramifications emanating from the United States' considerable sphere of influence have been posited as a principal factor precluding an American pontiff for nigh on two and a half centuries; however, this historical anomaly was decisively breached last week with the ascendance of former Chicago cardinal, Robert F. Provost, now Pope Leo XIV, to the 267th papacy.

"The poignancy inherent in Leo's appointment resides in the profound irony that a substantial swathe of global humanity will likely embrace it as an emblem of nascent optimism – perceiving him as an American interlocutor articulating their aspirations, a figure of concord rather than contention," averred David Gibson, Director of the Center on Religion and Culture at Fordham University.

教皇レオは、国際社会において、従来の枠に収まらない、異彩を放つアメリカ人としての地位を確立している。

The obscure election of a cardinal swiftly escalated into a vibrant discourse concerning the potential occupancy of the world's foremost ecclesiastical office by two Americans, particularly in light of Trump's well-documented predilection for eschewing shared prominence or the vanguard, a stance emblematic of his "America First" foreign policy, even as American Catholics ostensibly evinced a preference for his candidacy over that of his Democratic rival, Kamala Harris.

In a notable incident, during a period of mourning for the late Pope Francis, Trump posted an AI-generated image of himself in pontifical attire, an attempt to appeal to a religious constituency. This manoeuvre, however, met with disapprobation from certain segments of the Catholic populace and Italian observers. Trump subsequently disclaimed responsibility for the image’s dissemination, opining that those who perceived it as offensive lacked a grasp of levity and maintained that Catholic adherents had, contrarily, found the image agreeable.

Despite this, Trump lauded Leo's ascension and denominated the new pontiff's American nationality a matter of "profound honour."

Simultaneously, Pope Leo himself was in certain respects a statesman, his measured comportment and his approach of engaging in preliminary consultations with cardinals in smaller groups prior to convocations earning commendation; born in Chicago (né Prévost), he was elevated by Pope Francis in 2023 to superintendence of the Vatican’s influential dicastery responsible for scrutinising the global episcopacy, following two decades of missionary service in Peru.

He is not the first pontiff to delve into global politics; John Paul II, for instance, is rightfully credited with contributing to the dissolution of communism. However, Leo, prior to his elevation to the papacy, had already been engaged in a public critique on social media of Vice President JD Vance, one of the most prominent Catholic figures in American politics. Leo is at odds with the administration on contentious issues such as immigration—a cornerstone of Trump's platform—and environmental concerns.

Mirroring Trump's penchant for commanding media attention, Leo vociferously champions the liberation of incarcerated journalists, as evinced by his impassioned plea within the Vatican City precincts on Monday, where he underscored the imperative for the global community to safeguard "the inestimable boons of freedom of expression and freedom of the press." This stands in stark contrast to Trump's adversarial comportment towards the press, a posture maintained consistently from the executive mansion to the judicial arena.

Trump and Pope Leo tread disparate paths as leaders.

In early February, Leo, then serving as provost, disseminated an article from a Catholic publication titled "JD Vance Is Wrong: Jesus Does Not Ask Us to Rank Our Love for Others." This dissemination occurred mere days subsequent to Vance, a convert to Catholicism, invoking Christian doctrine in a Fox News interview concerning immigration, asserting that one "should prioritize loving your family, then your neighbor, then your community, then your nation, and then the entire world beyond that."

Addressing the thousands assembled in St. Peter's Square, Leo articulated a profoundly divergent vision for the Church and human relationships, asserting that, "We must collaborate to construct bridges and embody a Church that embraces with arms outstretched, mirroring this very square."

Vance intimated that the papacy transcended politics and social media, expounding in an interview with conservative commentator Hugh Hewitt that "it is very hard to fit an institution that has 2,000 years of history into 2025 American politics," and appending that "it is best for all of us for the church to be dedicated to the salvation of souls."

This contemporaneous ascendance alongside the Trump era, posited Steven Millies, Director of the Bernardin Center at Chicago's Catholic Theological Union, represents "an encounter between the gospel and culture," articulating a divergence in trajectory between religion and politics, given their inherently distinct teloi.

As articulated via email by Millies, the collaborative endeavours of Pope Francis and Cardinal Prevost constituted a salient pedagogical exercise, fundamentally aimed at the dissemination of the Gospel from an episcopal perspective, while simultaneously serving as an imperative reminder of the inherent alignment of the Gospel with the plight of the indigent and the afflicted—a trajectory conspicuously divergent from the multifaceted personae adopted by Trump in his capacities as president, reality television celebrity, or entrepreneur.

To what extent, then, does the Leonine pontiff's Weltanschauung resonate with American sensibilities?

Scholars submit that the decades Leo resided in Peru—a nation of which he holds citizenship alongside his own—furnished him with an expanded epistemological purview concerning humanity, power, religion, and politics.

Beyond their patent temperamental variances, Leo is anticipated to wield power through a divergent modality; exemplifying this, whilst Leo purportedly prioritizes empowerment of the most indigent, Trump has purportedly abjured American aid. Leo, during his inaugural address, conspicuously abstained from referencing his American origins or employing English, a perceived indication among certain Vatican observers of his overarching globalistic imperatives.

"While it is undeniable that Leo stands as the first American-born Pope, it is perhaps more intellectually cogent to conceptualise him as America’s second Pope," asserted Raúl Zegarra, Assistant Professor of the Theology of Roman Catholicism at Harvard Divinity School. "This perspective challenges the 'America First' tenet and proffers a broader, more inclusive lens for apprehending the region as a whole, particularly centred on the Global South, a vision initially articulated by Pope Francis."

These portrayals consistently underscore a pontiff whose apprehension of global leadership is intricately woven through dialogue, and who wields influence not through hermitic withdrawal but through dedicated service—a dichotomy starkly divergent from, and indeed scarcely conceivable in comparison with, that embodied by the current American administration.

According to some American cardinals, Leo's style and views were not in fact particularly American, and his American background did not significantly influence his papal election; nevertheless, the spectre of Trump invariably loomed over the entire proceedings.

The six American cardinals participating in the papal election ascended the stage sequentially for a press conference, soundtracked by a medley of 'Born in the USA' and 'American Pie'. Subsequently, each offered discreet remarks on Leo's American origins, with one citing the rumour that Leo was the "least American" of the cardinals and several expressing their expectation that Leo would serve as a 'bridge' to the Trump administration—a role intrinsically suggested by the very Latin etymology of "pontiff".

Upon being queried as to whether Leo's nomination was principally conceived as a strategic countermeasure against Trump, a minority of those present unequivocally disclaimed such an assertion.

"I do not believe my fellow cardinals ever conceived of him as a viable counterweight to anyone," stated Timothy Cardinal Dolan, the Archbishop of New York.

Archbishop Emeritus Wilton Gregory of Washington stated that the cardinals were acutely aware of the events transpiring in America, the pronouncements issued, and the political stratagems employed; nevertheless, the genuine teleological objective of the papal conclave inhered in selecting an individual capable of buttressing the faith "from among our ranks."

"The world does not fear an American Pope; rather, the inverse obtains," Milliez posits. "'The least American of Americans,' unblemished by our recent political miasma and profoundly attuned to this nation's salubrious aspects, he inspires a greater sense of security."

This dispatch benefits from the insightful contributions of Darlene Superville, a veteran correspondent operating out of The Associated Press's Washington bureau.