American cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church described the historic papal conclave that concluded this week as relatively easy, with no arm-twisting or overt politicking.
When their work was done — and as the outside world waited to learn the new pope’s identity — the cardinals inside the Sistine Chapel “went wild,” one recalled on Friday, when the man they had elected privately told them that he would take the name Leo.
That name, they said, could be an indication of the pope’s plans.
“Leo was the first modern pope, who spoke in defense of workers’ rights and what workers needed to have a just wage, not only to support their family and eke out a living, but also to build a patrimony they could pass on to their children,” said Cardinal Blase J. Cupich, the archbishop of Chicago, referring Pope Leo XIII.
That Pope Leo wrote a landmark papal document called Rerum Novarum in 1891, addressing the needs and dignity of the working class, which helped spark a social justice movement amid the Industrial Revolution.
“It wasn’t the defense of the right to property for people to accumulate as much as they want, but for poor people who did not have property as a patrimony to pass on,” Cardinal Cupich said.
The issues of workers rights, immigration and bridges across divides appear to be taking shape as the issues that could define the legacy of Robert Francis Prevost, now Pope Leo XIV.
“We are going to hear more about this,” Cardinal Cupich said. “We might have a Rerum Novarum 2.0.”
After they left Casa Santa Marta, the guesthouse at the Vatican where they had been sequestered, six cardinals from the United States filed out onto the stage at the Pontifical North American College on Friday afternoon and took their seats on red velvet chairs to speak publicly together for the first time since the election of the first American pontiff. A seventh cardinal joined, Christophe Pierre, the ambassador of the Holy See to the United States.
It was an extremely rare occasion, so many top American church leaders speaking together on the same stage, often in apparent agreement, a sign of the utter singularity of this moment in the history of the American Catholic Church.
Even though Pope Leo XIV is the first born in the United States, the cardinals presented him as “a citizen of the entire world,” as Cardinal Daniel N. DiNardo, archbishop emeritus of Galveston-Houston, said.
Inside the conclave, the fact that he was from the United States was “almost negligible” and “almost surprisingly” so, said Cardinal Robert W. McElroy of Washington.
Cardinal Timothy M. Dolan of New York agreed. “I don’t think the fact that Cardinal Prevost was from the United States had much weight,” he said.
Asked if the cardinals saw the election of an American pope as an effort to establish a counterweight to President Trump, he demurred. “Would he want to build bridges to Donald Trump? I suppose,” he said. “But he would want to build bridges with the leaders of any nation.”
Asked if they wanted President Trump to come to Rome for the inauguration of Pope Leo XIV, the American cardinals paused briefly. “Why not?” said Cardinal Pierre, the ambassador, jumping into the silence.
Cardinal DiNardo expanded on the possible significance of the name Leo.
“I want to take him back to Leo the Great, because I live in the fifth century,” Cardinal DiNardo said. “Leo the Great was a pope at the time when the church was truly a mess in dealing with what was happening right around the city gates of Rome.”
Leo the Great helped the save the city, and at the same time “he preached Christ crucified,” he said, noting that both Leos could speak about social doctrine and preach the gospel.
Cardinal Joseph W. Tobin of Newark, N.J., recalled casting his ballot — carrying it to the front of the Sistine Chapel, holding it high and solemnly submitting it before God as Michelangelo’s “Last Judgment” stared down.
He had known Cardinal Prevost for about 30 years, from back home in the United States and in their global ministries. Now they were behind the closed doors of one of the world’s most secret rooms, with 131 fellow cardinals, including eight from their home country.
He looked for his friend around the tables.
“I took a look at Bob,” Cardinal Tobin said, “and he had his head in his hands.”
“I was praying for him, because I couldn’t imagine what happens to a human being when you face something like that,” he said.
When 89 votes were reached, the room burst into applause. “I just thanked him yesterday, when it was my turn, for saying yes to such an awesome responsibility,” Cardinal Tobin said.
After leaving the Sistine Chapel, the cardinals wound their way through the labyrinth of Vatican halls, and Pope Leo XIV was on the balcony. Cardinal Cupich looked out from the balcony to his left, feeling the rush of cheers coming from the throngs that stretched all the way to the Tiber.
“We might get some pizzas shipped over for him,” he said.
Soon, all the cardinals were back in Casa Santa Marta for a celebratory meal. Then they toasted the new pope, who went from table to table.
“He really knew how to work the room,” Cardinal Cupich said.
Cardinal Wilton D. Gregory, archbishop emeritus of Washington and the first African American cardinal, said that Cardinal Prevost had engaged “quite effectively” in the smaller group discussions that cardinals had before they voted. “It wasn’t that he got up and made this overwhelmingly convincing speech that just wowed the body,” he said.
Seminarians listening to the news conference on Friday at the Pontifical North American College mentioned how last Thanksgiving, Cardinal Prevost came up the hill from the Vatican to celebrate with them.
Deacon Gerard Gayou, 31, a student from Washington who will be ordained next month, pulled up a photo of the moment, finding it hard to process that he had helped lead Mass with the new Pope.
“The big thing is that we have homemade pumpkin pie, which is hard to find in Italy,” he said. They sent the pope home with extra.
