2 weeks Ago By Jude Eze
The passing of His Holiness Pope Francis in the early hours of Easter Monday, April 21, 2025, has cast a solemn veil over the universal Church. The Holy See now stands at the threshold of one of her most sacred duties—electing a new successor to St. Peter.
While the Church mourns and prays in hope of eternal life, in keeping with her rich tradition and theological understanding of death, the secular world—especially in sub-Saharan Africa—has erupted into an emotive frenzy. As predictable as sunrise after dawn, social media platforms and public discourse have been inundated with debates, expectations, and passionate predictions about who the next Pope will be. Among these speculations, none has been louder or more sentimental than the push for a Black Pope—preferably, an African one.
And in a particularly Nigerian flavour, some have even gone as far as “zoning” the papacy, a term borrowed from our own rotational political culture, and “micro-zoning” it to Nigeria. Some have, albeit erroneously, thrown the name of Francis Cardinal Arinze into the ring—an eminent and revered churchman, but one who is canonically ineligible to vote or be elected at age 92. What is unfolding is a comedy of projections, fueled by political paradigms alien to the Church.
In the corridors of Nigerian leadership culture, where political power often revolves around sentiments of turn-taking, entitlement, and ethnic calculations, the sacredness of the Papal Conclave is being misunderstood, reduced to a secular contest of identity politics. The phrase “Emi lo kan” (It’s my turn), which animated Nigeria’s recent elections, has now found an unlikely application in the discourse on who should ascend the Chair of Peter. However, the Roman Catholic Church, the oldest surviving institution in the world, is not swayed by the turbulence of popular sentiment or secular politicking.
The process of electing a Pope has endured wars, schisms, plagues, and reformations—not because it is democratic in the populist sense, but because it is deeply spiritual, guarded by sacred traditions, and entrusted to men who have pledged their lives to the service of God and His Church. The College of Cardinals, particularly those under the age of 80—the electors in the Conclave—do not cast their votes based on ethnicity, colour, or geopolitics. They are guided by prayer, the promptings of the Holy Spirit, and a profound understanding of the needs of the Church at every given epoch.
The Church, though universal, is not democratic in her governance structure. Her decisions, especially in moments like this, are not made in response to the emotions of the moment, but to the eternal call of mission and fidelity. It is worth reminding the feverish crowd that the Conclave is not a political party primary election.
The Church is not a playground for ethnopolitical ambitions. The Cardinals enter the Sistine Chapel under oath to elect not a representative of a continent or colour, but a shepherd who will uphold and defend the teachings of Christ in a world increasingly hostile to truth. They look after who among them could sail the new ark of Noah (Gen.
6:13-22), which is the Church through the deluge of relativism, terrorism, threats of nuclear warfare, climate change, sexual immorality, abortion, and economic sabotage. Their task is not to meet our preferences but to discern God’s will for His Church. Many of those advocating for an African Pope base their hope on the 2005 Conclave, where it was widely speculated that Cardinal Arinze was a frontrunner.
Some have gone further to claim that he was ‘rigged out’—a perspective borne out of political experiences within their own national systems, particularly with the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) in Nigeria. But such projections only reveal a lack of understanding of how the Church functions. The Church, unlike our fragile democracies, is not built on quota systems or geopolitical balances.
She is built on communion, obedience, tradition, and truth. She does not respond to media outcry or social media hashtags. Her hierarchy is celibate and configured for service, not succession planning or tribal loyalty.
Cardinals do not campaign; they discern. And their vote, cast in silence and prayer beneath Michelangelo’s Last Judgment paintings, is sealed in conscience and commitment. Let us also remember that despite his close relationship with Pope John Paul II, Cardinal Arinze never exploited his position.
He never lobbied, never pushed for the elevation of other Nigerian bishops to the Cardinalate during his years in Rome. If he had wanted to influence the appointment of, say, Bishop Michael Eneja of Enugu or Archbishop Albert Obiefuna of Onitsha (both Late now), he might have. But his priorities lay in heaven, not in ecclesiastical politics.
To that end, it is advisable to calm the restless speculations and save the energy wasted on agitating for a Black Pope. The skin colour of the next Vicar of Christ has never been the concern of the Church. What matters is the content of his character, his fidelity to Catholic doctrine, his pastoral sensitivity, his courage in a world grappling with current surge in human vices, moral decline, and the technological redefinition of human nature.
The Church’s priority remains as it always has been: “salus animarum”—the salvation of souls. That is the supreme law of the Church (cf. Canon 1752).
And as such, the greatest task She faces is not the election of a Pope but the conversion of sinners. As our Lord taught: “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents..
.” (Luke 15:7). The process of electing a Pope is a clearly defined and time-tested ritual.
Evangelizing a secularized and indifferent world, on the other hand, is the real uphill battle. This is why I personally hesitate to devote too much energy to Papal election debates. The process is meticulous, dignified, and in the hands of the right men.
It is not messy. It is not ambiguous. What is more pressing is how we live our faith while the See of Peter is vacant.
How do we witness Christ in our own lives? How do we honour the legacy of Pope Francis, whose Pontificate was marked by a passionate call for a Church that is poor and for the poor? Hours after the news of the Pope’s death broke, Cardinal Blase Cupich of Chicago was asked by the BBC what he thought about the next Conclave. His response was disarmingly humble: “In the spirit of mourning, I am not even in the right frame of mind to give any answer to that effect.” That is the posture of one truly immersed in the gravity of the moment.
And yet, here in Nigeria, even non-Catholics have taken to pontificating about a process they neither understand nor respect—accusing the Church of racism and marginalization. Ironically, many of these voices do not raise similar concerns about FIFA, the UN, or the global banking system. Why hasn’t anyone of them agitated for a Black FIFA presidency? Their activism is selective, often ignited only when the word “Catholic” is mentioned.
The Catholic Church has given the world 266 Popes through a succession line stretching over 1,500 years—each elected without chaos or confusion, even in the most turbulent times. Our national institutions can hardly conduct a single general election without litigation. Perhaps, instead of trying to ‘export’ our political pathologies into the heart of the Church, we might learn something from her consistency, patience, and fidelity to purpose.
As we await the next Pope, let us focus more on the enduring truth of the Gospel than the pigmentation of the Petrine Office. Let us watch and pray, rather than trend and tweet. Let us entrust the College of Cardinals to the Holy Spirit and pray that the one chosen will be a man after God’s own heart—a shepherd who will lead us with wisdom, holiness, and courage in the days ahead.
For in the end, the most important colour in the Church is not black or white—it is red. The red of martyrdom. The red of the Holy Spirit’s fire.
The red of the love that lays down its life for the flock. May daylight spare us! Jude Eze..
