“The transcendent, therefore, is not a supreme entity above all things; rather, the pure transcendent is the taking-place of every thing. God or the good or the place does not take place, but is the taking-place of the entities, their innermost exteriority.” (1) 

On the morning of Monday, April 21, the bells of St. Peter’s Basilica tolled a sorrowful message not only in Rome but across the world. Pope Francis passed away at the age of 88. A man who, in an era of terror, ideological battles, political turbulence, and the embodiment of old evils in new forms, sought not to remain silent within the church but to be a voice for the voiceless and to turn the church into a sanctuary for the forsaken. His death is not merely the death of a religious leader but the silencing of a voice that, despite constant criticism, always spoke for the forgotten and the marginalized.

From the Streets of Buenos Aires to the Vatican

Jorge Mario Bergoglio was born on December 17, 1936, to Italian parents in Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina. At the age of 16, following what he described as a profound experience during confession, he decided to begin training for priesthood. However, three years later, he chose to join the Jesuits. In 1973, at the age of 36, he was appointed head of the Jesuits in Argentina and held the position until 1979. In 1992, he was appointed Auxiliary Bishop of Buenos Aires and five years later became the Archbishop. In 2001, he was made a Cardinal. Though he preferred to remain distant from Rome, in 2005, during the conclave to choose the successor of Pope John Paul II, he was considered but ultimately withdrew. Finally, on March 13, 2013, after the resignation of Pope Benedict XVI, he was elected the 266th pope. From the outset, he strove to take a different path within the Catholic Church, initiating reforms within the Church and the Vatican. Bergoglio’s birth into a migrant family in a working-class neighborhood of Buenos Aires had a profound impact on his worldview. As the first Jesuit and the first Latin American pope, he brought an unprecedented perspective to the Vatican—one shaped by the slums of Argentina, the intellectual rigor of the Jesuit tradition, and a deep commitment to the marginalized.

Palestine and Israel: The Pope Against Terrorism

One of Pope Francis’ most defining traits, one that distinguished him not only from his predecessors but also from many global political and religious leaders, was his attention to humanitarian issues. Francis did not fear judgment or hatred; perhaps his only fear was silence and indifference to human suffering. Since the beginning of Israel's assaults on Gaza, the Pope repeatedly called for a ceasefire and peace. He even referred to Israel’s attacks as terrorism. Despite intense criticism, he never backed down. In his final appearance on the balcony of St. Peter’s during Easter Mass, just one day before his death, he once again called for peace in Gaza and the unimpeded delivery of humanitarian aid. He said:  

May the principle of humanity never fail to be the hallmark of our daily actions. In the face of the cruelty of conflicts that involve defenceless civilians and attack schools, hospitals and humanitarian workers, we cannot allow ourselves to forget that it is not targets that are struck, but persons, each possessed of a soul and human dignity. (2)

His commitment to defending “humanity,” even on his final day, exemplified how central this notion was to him, a commitment also evident in his approach to migrants and other issues. This is where we can take another look at the concept of good and evil. Pope Francis saw evil in the usual course of things, in everything continuing in the same old formula. It is important to understand this issue because here, evil and good are not distant concepts that ultimately lead to the victory of one on the Day of Judgment and the defeat of the other. Rather, it was Francis' radical characteristic that he sought this duality at the heart of the current chaotic situation and tried to address it to the best of his ability.

Pope Francis' approach to the Palestinian issue is a reminder of the important point that in the current situation, we can ceaselessly reinstate the principle of good/evil in an affirmative sense. In other words, his dialect underlines the fact that “…the Palestinian people has demonstrated in the past extraordinary capacities to survive and fight for its rights. Pessimism should not deter us from trying the impossible, which is also a duty.” (3)

An Open Embrace for Migrants

Pope Francis was, in a way, an indirect survivor of a migrant tragedy. In 1927, his grandfather had purchased a ticket to migrate to Argentina on the SS Principessa Mafalda, a ship that sank off the coast of Brazil, killing hundreds. However, the Bergoglios, having postponed their trip at the last moment, were not on board and thus survived. This experience deeply influenced Pope Francis’ views on migration. In a time when political leaders from the Middle East to Europe and the Americas sought to shirk responsibility toward migrants and mobilize nationalist ideologies against them, Pope Francis consistently defended migrants and called for empathy. He opposed anti-migrant policies and condemned Donald Trump’s border wall project as “unchristian.” Francis was unafraid to challenge Western political stances, frequently criticizing Europe’s indifference to the drowning of migrants in the Mediterranean. He urged Europe not to greet the afflicted with walls but with open arms. And, he practiced what he preached. In 2016, after visiting the Greek island of Lesbos, he brought 12 Muslim refugees back with him to the Vatican. He emphasized that this was not a political act—it was a Christian one.

Divya Dwivedi and Shaj Mohan once wrote that “The process of throwing away something without any regard to its relation to everything else recalls another older meaning of evil— διαβάλλω—or to throw across, from which also comes “diabolus” in the sense of the one who slanders.” (4) The late Pope disrupted the usual associations of the discarded as manifestations of evil; for him, it was these discarded survivors who were deemed worthy of respect and salvation, from those who have fallen victim to the Israeli slaughter machine to refugees whose pitiful lives are the product of the vast expanse of capitalist violence. Here, the survivor is more important than what is perceived as authentic.

We Are on the Same Boat: From Covid-19 to Ukraine

Francis also took a stance on the Ukraine crisis that contrasted sharply with the West, sparking another wave of criticism. He stated that Russia was not the sole culprit in the war, pointing to Western expansionism and colonial legacies as contributing factors. From his request to the International Criminal Court to revoke Vladimir Putin’s arrest warrant, to his suggestion that Ukraine raise the white flag for negotiations, his positions infuriated many in the West. Yet diplomatic popularity was never his concern, Francis cared only about ending bloodshed and protecting human dignity.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, as moral disarray grew globally, the Pope emphasized empathy and unity. The image of him standing alone in St. Peter’s Square in March 2020 became one of the most enduring symbols of the pandemic. He reminded the world that “we are all in the same boat” and called on wealthy nations to share their resources, especially vaccines, with those in need. He donated thousands of doses from the Vatican’s stock to the homeless of Rome.

Legacy: Tearing Down Walls

Throughout his 12-year papacy, Francis was not immune to attacks from capitalists, traditionalists, and nationalist politicians. But he never strayed from his goals. He sought to present a different face of the Catholic Church through sweeping reforms, turning the Church into a place of refuge for the poor and focusing his efforts on healing wounds. In a divided world, he strove to promote dialogue and became a symbol of interfaith conversation. While he was indifferent to criticisms of himself, he could never be indifferent to human suffering. It was as if he understood that evil often lies not in action but in indifference. Instead of merely condemning the appearances of violence, he condemned violence itself and its fundamental roots, because he knew that what matters most in any act of hostility is the negation of existence and its target and that target is always human beings.

In an age of walls and borders, Pope Francis’ legacy is that he tried to cross them, dismantling the barriers between rich and poor, believers and non-believers, citizens and migrants, the oppressors and the oppressed. Until his final breath, he remained a messenger of peace.

NOTES

1. Giorgio Agamben, The Coming Community, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993, p. 15.

2. “Read Pope Francis's final address in full”, Ali Abbas Ahmadi, BBC, 21 April 2025: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c4g9577g1k1o  

3. Etienne Balibar, “The Genocide in Gaza and its Consequences for the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict,” Philosophy World Democracy 4.9 (September 2024): https://www.philosophy-world-democracy.org/articles-1/the-genocide-in-gaza-and-its-consequences-for-the-israeli-palestinian-conflict 

4. Divya Dwivedi and Shaj Mohan, “Trash: Evil,” Philosophy World Democracy 4.3 (March 2023): https://www.philosophy-world-democracy.org/articles-1/trash-evil