Pope Francis, the return of Vatican antisemitism

It has been decades since the Vatican’s pronouncements have provoked such alarm among the Jewish community. But Pope Francis’ recent statements—spanning from unscripted remarks to official sermons—have reignited fears that the darkest chapters of Church history are resurfacing. His accusatory tone towards Israel, unsubstantiated claims of war crimes, and rhetorical drift towards the Palestinian narrative dangerously mirror the Vatican’s most infamous moments of silence or complicity, from Pius IV’s anti-Jewish campaigns to Pius XII’s muted response to the Holocaust.

Two Episodes Back-to-Back

The controversy ignited during Pope Francis’ impromptu remarks during the traditional Christmas convocation to the Consistory of Cardinals. Without preamble, he lamented: “[Friday] Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, was denied entry to Gaza as promised. On the same day, children of Gaza were bombed. This is cruelty. This is not war. I say this because it touches the heart.”

The Patriarchate swiftly attempted to downplay the statement, attributing the incident to logistical confusion. But the damage was done. Israel’s embassy to the Holy See responded forcefully on social media: “Contrary to false accusations published in the media, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa’s request to enter Gaza was granted, as it has been in the past, according to his preferences.”

As if the diplomatic rift needed widening, Pope Francis doubled down during the Angelus at Casa Marta. The Angelus, a traditional midday prayer delivered from St. Peter’s, became an unexpected platform for another salvo: “With pain, I think of Gaza—of such cruelty, of children being machine-gunned, of schools and hospitals bombed. Such cruelty.” Once more, he invoked a plea for a ceasefire “from the Holy Land to Ukraine,” drawing a dangerous equivalence between two vastly different conflicts.

Israel’s Response and Diaspora Backlash

Israel’s reaction was swift and stern. Amichai Chikli, Minister for Diaspora Affairs and Antisemitism, penned an open letter to the Pope, published in Il Foglio, addressing him in no uncertain terms:

“Your Holiness, it is well known that Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea… Jesus was born to a Jewish mother, lived as a Jew, and died as a Jew… Two weeks ago, you attended an event presenting Jesus wrapped in a keffiyeh, a clear echo of the Palestinian narrative. This is not an isolated incident. Only weeks earlier, you suggested that Israel ‘may’ be guilty of genocide in Gaza. We are a people who lost six million of our own in the Holocaust—we do not take lightly the banalization of the term ‘genocide.’”

Chikli’s letter was more than a rebuke; it was a searing indictment of the Vatican’s historical complicity in antisemitism. He invoked the long arc of Roman suppression, from Emperor Hadrian renaming Judea to “Syria Palaestina” to Pope Pius XII’s silence as Jews were deported en masse to Treblinka.

The Keffiyeh and the Christmas Nativity

Ten days ago, the Vatican had unveiled its Nativity scene from Bethlehem, featuring an infant Jesus swaddled in a keffiyeh. The implicit framing of Jesus as a Palestinian child—subtly erasing his Jewish heritage—triggered outrage. Following public outcry, the Vatican removed the keffiyeh-clad figure. But the symbolic damage lingered.

It wasn’t just the Nativity display. In his recent book, La Speranza non delude mai (Hope Never Disappoints), published in November ahead of the 2025 Jubilee, Pope Francis reiterated calls to investigate potential genocide in Gaza. “According to some experts, what is happening in Gaza bears the characteristics of genocide,” he wrote, further alienating Israel and Jewish communities worldwide.

A Return to the Vatican’s Darkest Hours

Observers familiar with Church history know that this is not an isolated drift. The parallels with the papacies of Pius IV, Gregory XIII, and most ominously, Pius XII, are hard to ignore. The Vatican’s role in perpetuating antisemitism stretches far back, from medieval ghettos to blood libels tacitly endorsed by silence.

Under Pius XII, the Church’s reticence during the Holocaust became one of the most damning moral failures of the 20th century. Today, Pope Francis’ insinuations—whether intentional or not—risk repeating that stain.

The echo of complicity reverberates too closely for comfort. As Chikli remarked, “The silence of the Vatican during those dark days of the Shoah still resounds deafeningly.”

Weaponizing Normality

There is a dangerous allure to Pope Francis’ rhetoric, cloaked as it is in the language of compassion and peace. But as Hannah Arendt warned, the greatest evils are often committed not by fanatics but by ordinary men who abdicate moral clarity in the face of comfortable consensus.

By subtly aligning the Church with anti-Israel narratives, Francis risks normalizing antisemitic tropes under the guise of empathy. It is a perilous path, one that must be confronted—not merely for the sake of Israel, but for the integrity of the Church itself.

Evil thrives on the veneer of normality.