Editor’s note: This is an excerpt from CNN Vatican correspondent Christopher Lamb’s new book, American Hope: What Pope Leo XIV Means for the Church and the World. It will be published by Headline in the UK and Hachette in the US on March 26th.
On Saturday, May 3, 2025, one week after Pope Francis’ funeral, President Donald Trump posted an AI-generated image of himself wearing the pope’s white cassock and clasp. The image was posted on his Truth Social platform and reshared by the White House’s official X account. Within seconds it went viral. Asked by reporters a few days ago who he would like to be elected to succeed Francis, the president jokingly replied: “I want to be the pope. That’s my first choice.”
Reactions from Catholics around the world ranged from anxiety to anger. As is typical of President Trump’s posts, the AI image was both tongue-in-cheek and provocative. To Catholics, it was at least a disrespectful act. The image also went unnoticed by the cardinals who began gathering in Rome ahead of the conclave scheduled for May 7. Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David, an outspoken Filipino prelate who once received death threats for criticizing President Rodrigo Duterte’s brutal drug war, responded to Trump on Facebook: “That’s not funny, sir,” which was translated into 10 languages. Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York, who is known to be friendly with President Trump, said the image was “not good,” but when asked by Reuters if an apology was needed, he said, “No one knows.”
Trump’s post appeared to only increase media interest in the papal election process. More than 4,000 reporters descended on the Vatican to cover the event, and the cardinals were mobbed on their way to the meeting. Due to the popularity of the thriller movie “Conclave” (2024), which depicts the worldly ambitions of men vying for the position of Pope, there was an unusually high level of interest from the public.
During his papacy, Francis undermined the college of cardinals that appoints his successor. He made the church’s membership more international and diverse to reflect the fact that the church was changing. For years, the cardinal’s axis had shifted away from Europe and the West and toward encompassing the growing numbers of Catholics in Africa and Asia. It was common knowledge that cardinals did not choose the American pope. Given the United States’ political, cultural and economic power, it is unlikely that the cardinals would elect a pope from that country. However, something has changed since the election and re-election of President Trump, who champions America First. There was a clear sense that America’s role in the world was changing.
A few days before the conclave began, I interviewed Cardinal Oswald Gracias, former archbishop of Bombay and a highly respected figure throughout the Church in Asia. Is it possible for America to have a Pope? I asked. Previously, this would have been “unthinkable,” he says. But then he stopped and said: “We could have an American pope…why not?”
In fact, on my shortlist of “papabilis” or potential popes, there was the name of an American named Cardinal Robert Prevost. I knew he was the leader of the Vatican’s powerful Bishop’s Office. The Bishop’s Office played an important role in appointing bishops and holding them accountable. And I was hearing his name mentioned recently…
I had met Prevost once in Rome. I got the impression that he was thoughtful and a good listener. He was a reserved person who did not give interviews and seemed at peace with himself. And interestingly, although he was born in Chicago, he spent many decades of his life working as a missionary and bishop in Peru. He was, so to speak, an “un-American American.”
As the cardinals prepared to enter the conference in early May, the harsh criticism some of them had against Francis dissipated. The focus now was on how the next pope could continue the reforms of his predecessor and, crucially, demonstrate a prophetic spirit in engaging with the world.
Alongside the discussions, the cardinals also held private meetings, including dinners at restaurants in the Borgo Pio medieval district near the Vatican and at each other’s apartments and mansions in Rome. The politics were delicate, as any cardinal deemed to be blatantly campaigning on his own behalf was immediately disqualified. Alongside papal candidate Papavili was a group of influential and well-connected cardinals known as the “kingmakers” who tried to rally the various electors to support him. I’ve heard that “kingmakers” are not afraid to speak up when asked for their opinion on a candidate.
Although no one could predict the outcome of the election at this point, the front-runners were known, including Cardinal Pietro Parolin, secretary of state for the Holy See and an experienced church diplomat from Veneto in northern Italy. Mr. Parolin is seen as a strong “unity” candidate who does not oppose any of Francis’ major reforms, but may carefully shift his priorities. In the “diversity” group was Luis Antonio Tagle, a charismatic Cardinal from the Philippines who presides over the Vatican’s Office for Evangelization. He would represent a strong continuity with Francis’ policies.
But behind the scenes, Mr. Prevost was secretly gathering support.
Cardinal Francis George, former archbishop of Chicago, famously expressed skepticism about the possibility of an American pope. George was a highly influential and politically astute prelate who died almost a decade before the election of Leo XIV. He argued that as long as the United States remains the world’s dominant power, it is unlikely that the United States will produce a pope. “Look, until America declines politically, there will be no American pope,” he reportedly said.
The idea that a cardinal from the United States could not be elected pope was deeply ingrained in church thinking, especially in the Vatican. Just before the conclave, Robert Prevost found time to send a message to a friend. “I sleep well with the belief that there will never be an American Pope,” he wrote.
In fact, this concept existed even before America became a superpower. It was Leo XIII, the new pope’s namesake, who in 1899 denounced what he saw as the errors of “Americanism.” He resisted what he saw as American particularism and worried that America’s emphasis on individual freedom was undermining respect for the authority of the church.
It is a surprising historical turn that the next pope, named Leo, will come from the United States.
Leo adopted a different style than Pope Francis. Certainly more modest. But beneath his seemingly calm exterior lies a steely determination. Leo is a lion who knows when to roar, and the moment he decides on something, it becomes final. Unlike politicians who are full of bluffs and abuse and can only look ahead to the next election, Leo is charting a long-term course.
The first American pope in the Catholic Church’s 2,000-year history did not provoke a flurry of diplomatic activity from the White House. President Donald Trump later told reporters that he was “a little surprised, but very happy” about the selection of the first U.S. pope. He described the news as “a great honor for our country” and said he looked forward to meeting Leo at “a very meaningful moment”.
However, the U.S. president had no direct contact with the first U.S. pope after Leo’s election or during the early months of his papacy. At a press conference in late July, Leo confessed that he wasn’t too worried, but that he had “never had a direct conversation or meeting with the president.” President Trump’s own position toward the pope seemed respectful but ambivalent.
Trump has talked about the possibility of meeting with Leo in the coming months, but said he has no plans and doesn’t appear to be rushing to make it happen. By contrast, his predecessor Joe Biden, the second Catholic president after John F. Kennedy, met with Pope Francis several times during his term, including after Biden took office in 2020. In October 2021, they held a 75-minute meeting at the Vatican.
In one of his final acts as president, Biden awarded Francisco the prestigious Presidential Medal of Freedom. The relationship between Biden and Francis was marked by warmth and mutual respect, although it was not without disagreements over abortion and the war in Gaza.
While President Trump speaks respectfully of Pope Leo, it’s not hard to see signs of underlying tensions. Steve Bannon, a Catholic and outspoken ally of President Trump, called Leo’s election “the worst election in history.”
Like many popes in the United States, he knows firsthand how political divisions affect families. Disagreement over who to vote for can lead to heated conversations at the dinner table, and in some cases, to feuds and family separation. The Pope has two older brothers. His eldest son, Louis Prevost, is a MAGA supporter who has posted inflammatory, pro-Trump social media content, such as attacking former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. A church official said Louis’ wife, Deborah, is also a supporter of MAGA.
After his brother was elected pope, Louis admitted he would probably “tone it down,” deleting some posts and making his account private. But President Trump quickly saw an opportunity. Louis and Deborah were invited to visit and were welcomed by President Trump and Vice President J.D. Vance.
“I really like his brother,” President Trump said of the pope. “His brother is a major, full-fledged Trumper. You know what? He’s MAGA through and through.” Leo simply responded to these comments by saying, “That’s fine,” adding that Louis was “very outspoken about his political views.” President Trump has had more direct contact with Leo’s brother, a MAGA supporter, than the Pope himself, who is not. Actions speak louder than words.
But the Pope proved that it is possible to disagree and maintain unity, even within one’s own family. He shows that political differences need not affect family harmony. After Leo’s inauguration on May 18, Louis Prévost came forward to greet his brother in St. Peter’s Basilica. The two hugged each other tightly.
