Fake interview with the Pope causes a stir in Italy. Why is it so important?
by Gaetano Masciullo
The Dehonian Editions of Bologna, Italy, recently published a book that was immediately met with criticism and scandal, particularly within the Vatican Curia. Jesuit Antonio Spadaro, Undersecretary at the Dicastery for Culture and Education, is the author of the book Da Francesco a Leone (“From Francis to Leo”). As the title clearly suggests, the aim of the book is to demonstrate complete continuity in governance between Bergoglio and Prevost.
There is a strong unease among the accelerationist revolutionaries who still wander the Roman palaces: they are determined to prove at all costs that Leo XIV is fully continuing the agenda initiated by Francis. Spadaro, in particular, is aligned with those hardline Bergoglians who, during the last conclave, persisted to the very end in order to prevent Prevost from ascending to the See of Peter. Among them are Jesuit Jean-Claude Hollerich and the 'people’s theologian' Víctor Manuel Fernandez.
The book's subtitle reads: 'With an unpublished interview with Cardinal Francis R. Prevost.' Yet, the interview in question is actually a transcription of a public conversation the former Prefect for Bishops gave nearly a year ago, on August 7, 2024, at the Augustinian parish of St. Jude Church in New Lenox, Illinois. The questions were written and proposed by Father Ray Flores, not by Father Spadaro. Nico Spuntoni, writing in La Nuova Bussola Quotidiana, even points out that, according to social media, the Jesuit was in Sicily at the time—not in the USA. Both the Jesuit and the publishing house quickly took steps to contain the fallout, yet the book's cover remains quite explicit.
Beyond the editorial mishap, this event is highly revealing of the meaning hidden behind it. The Dehonian Editions are the publishing house of the Bologna School—that is, the neo-modernist theological movement which, particularly in Italy, advocates for an interpretation of the Second Vatican Council that breaks sharply with Catholic Tradition. The fact that Spadaro published this book with that publishing house sends a clear message: Leo intends to carry on Francis's revolutionary work. But is that truly the case?
There is a strong tension within the Curia, one that is difficult to overcome, between the many Bergoglians who wish to continue 'synodalizing' the Church and the very few who instead seek to pull the handbrake. To break through this impasse, a deep reform of the Curia would be necessary—but so far, there are no signs suggesting that Pope Leo is moving in that direction.
In truth—here I ask the reader's forgiveness if I dare venture such reflections—a growing concern has been taking root in me, day by day, regarding the Holy Father's condition. Since May 8, 2025, the day of his election, I have the impression that Leo XIV has changed. I sense him more fatigued, with a weary face and heavier gestures. The most recent public images speak for themselves, and at times I get the feeling that the Pope is overwhelmed by a workload that exceeds his strength—which, as we all know, varies from person to person.
The daily bulletins from the Vatican Press Office reflect an extremely packed schedule: audiences, speeches, as well as surprise visits and 'extraordinary' messages addressed to various assemblies and specific groups. It would seem that Leo XIV has inherited not only numerous headaches and the unresolved issues left behind by Francis, but also the almost compulsive rhythm of public appearances.
With one crucial difference: Francis wanted these appearances because they were part of his personal agenda for 'image reform' of the papacy. Even in his later years, Bergoglio displayed a remarkably robust physical stamina and a personal determination that drove him to remain constantly in the spotlight. With Leo XIV, on the other hand, one gets the distinct impression that this spotlight was not sought by him—nor, even less, wanted. In fact, I almost have the feeling that he is enduring it.
Francis R. Prevost, now Pope, has always been a reflective, methodical, and orderly man—perhaps even prone to a certain performance anxiety, which clashes with constant public exposure. He is not Bergoglio: spontaneous to the point of improvisation, even blunders. The spirituality of the new American Pope is more austere, and his personality more reserved. Yet, we constantly see him speaking, appearing in public, almost as if he feels compelled to prove something to someone each day.
John Paul II too, in a different way, was a monumental public figure. But in his case, there was a clear design responding to a historical need perceived by many: to redefine the image of the Pope for the postmodern world, after the post-conciliar torpor (especially that of the final years of Paul VI) and the shock of the sudden death of John Paul I. Karol Wojtyła, after all, came from the world of performance: he was an actor, but also an athlete, a man accustomed to the spotlight, and he carried out a highly charismatic mission. Leo XIV now appears to be pursuing the same agenda of media overexposure (some internal voices seem to confirm this, and there is already talk of numerous apostolic journeys), but doesn’t this risk repeating the model of other Pontiffs for entirely different purposes?
The suspicion—and it is not mine alone—is that those same internal forces within the Curia interested in showcasing continuity from Francis to Leo aim to turn the new Pope into a public icon while the real power is exercised elsewhere. The impression being conveyed is one of governmental continuity, but perhaps the reality is quite different. Behind the façade of visibility and activity, the Pope seems increasingly isolated, almost imprisoned by an agenda that is not his own, by an image tailored to him but that does not correspond to his spirit nor his vocation.
And here we come to a pivotal point: does Leo XIV truly have the time—the inner silence, the freedom, the stillness—to reflect, write, think, discern? How can he advance the magisterium and the reforms he desires if each day is consumed by such relentless media overexposure?
I raise these questions out of love for the Church and for the Pope. The Holy Father, after all, is not merely a symbol to be displayed, but the successor of Saint Peter, and as such, he is first and foremost called to confirm his brothers in the faith. Today, especially, we need a father, a teacher, and a shepherd. It may fall to us, with devout frankness, to ask that Leo XIV be freed from this machinery that risks consuming his pontificate before he has even had the chance to leave an authentic mark.
Originally published in The Remnant; reprinted here with permission.
