Pope Leo critiques global systemic violence amid Easter rites, urging Catholic solidarity with marginalised communities

Indigenous critiques of the Catholic Church highlight its role in erasing pre-colonial spiritual systems and justifying dispossession through the *Doctrine of Discovery*. Many Native communities view papal authority as complicit in historical trauma, such as the residential school system in Canada, where forced assimilation led to generational harm. Traditional ecological knowledge systems, which often centre reciprocity with land, contrast sharply with the Church’s anthropocentric worldview, which has historically justified resource extraction.

The Catholic Church’s entanglement with colonial violence spans centuries, from the 1493 papal bull *Inter caetera* (dividing the Americas between Spain and Portugal) to modern-day support for authoritarian regimes in Latin America. The Church’s role in the transatlantic slave trade and its later opposition to civil rights movements in the U.S. reveal a pattern of moral inconsistency. Even liberation theology, which emerged in the 1960s as a critique of structural sin, was suppressed by the Vatican under John Paul II, illustrating the institution’s resistance to systemic change.

In contrast to the Pope’s hierarchical authority, many African and Asian spiritual traditions emphasise communal accountability over individual moralism. For example, Ubuntu philosophy in Southern Africa posits that 'I am because we are,' framing oppression as a collective failure rather than a top-down imposition. Indigenous Australian Dreamtime stories often depict violence as a disruption of cosmic balance, requiring ritual restoration rather than punitive justice. These frameworks challenge the Catholic Church’s top-down model of salvation, which can depoliticise systemic harm.

Research in social psychology shows that moral framing by authority figures (like the Pope) can either galvanise collective action or depoliticise systemic issues, depending on the audience’s preexisting beliefs. Studies on institutional trust reveal that religious authority figures have diminishing influence on younger, secular populations, particularly in post-colonial contexts. Meanwhile, anthropological work on ritual demonstrates how symbolic acts (like foot-washing) can reinforce group cohesion without addressing material inequalities.

Artists like Ai Weiwei and Kara Walker have used religious imagery to critique institutional hypocrisy, while Indigenous artists such as Kent Monkman reimagine colonial violence through spiritual lenses. In Latin American *teatro comunitario*, performances often blend Catholic iconography with indigenous cosmology to expose systemic oppression. Spiritual traditions like Sufism and Hasidic Judaism emphasise inner transformation as a precursor to societal change, offering a counterpoint to the Pope’s external moralising.

A systemic future would require the Catholic Church to confront its colonial legacy through reparations, land restitution, and decolonising theological education. Scenario planning suggests that interfaith coalitions with Indigenous and Afro-descendant spiritual leaders could co-create frameworks for restorative justice. Meanwhile, the rise of secular humanism and post-religious spirituality in the Global North may render papal moralism increasingly irrelevant unless it adapts to address material conditions.

Queer Catholics, survivors of clerical abuse, and Global South theologians are often excluded from mainstream narratives about papal authority. Indigenous activists, such as those in the *Idle No More* movement, have condemned the Church’s role in cultural genocide while seeking reparations. Women religious leaders, who perform the majority of care work within the Church, are systematically sidelined despite their proximity to marginalised communities. The absence of these voices reinforces the illusion of papal moral authority as unifying rather than contested.