Leo XIV & the legacy of Cardinal Ruini

At 94, already wheelchair-bound and in poor health, Cardinal Camillo Ruini found himself experiencing the third conclave of his life as a cardinal, this time no longer as a cardinal elector.

No one would have faulted him had he chosen to sit this one out.

Ruini, however, felt it was his duty to ensure his presence, his voice, and his every remaining energy to the general congregations—the pre-conclave meetings involving all cardinals, even non-electors—convinced as he was that they were all facing a fundamental transition for the Church.

Meglio contestati che irrilevanti was his maxim – “Better to be contested than to be ignored – and he still had something to say, especially as the Church turned out of the diusruptive and disconcerting Francis pontificate and into a new era of leadership that needed, in the words of Cardinal Ruini himself, to restore a certain unity to the Church, and to speak again to believers.

That was him, all over.

Cardinal Ruini died on June 16 at the age of 95, more than a year after the election of Pope Leo XIV, who seemed to match his hope for a Pope who would bring unity, order, and tranquility.

We don’t know who Leo XIV will be as pope – candid observers agree his pontificate is still being defined and his ideas on governance are yet to be revealed – but we do know the legacy Ruini left behind.

Ruini was a key figure in a complex and important period for the Italian Church. In 1985, as a young auxiliary bishop from Reggio Emilia, he joined the organizing committee of the Loreto Ecclesial Convention, where he, along with John Paul II, who supported him, promoted a commitment to the Catholic presence in society.

The Church’s “apostolate of presence” in Italian social, cultural, and political life was uncertain, owing – perhaps paradoxically – to the post-war emergence of the Christian Democrats, a political party that was already formally taking on Catholic concerns.

John Paul II, however, wanted a more engaged Church, and found a loyal ally in the young bishop from Emilia. In Italy, the secretary and president of the Italian Episcopal Conference (CEI) are appointed by the pope, who is Primate of Italy.

John Paul II chose Ruini as the CEI’s general secretary in 1986, then promoted him to president in 1991, also appointing him as his vicar for the diocese of Rome and creating him a cardinal.

In Italy, these were turbulent years.

A massive bribery scandal inviolving pretty much every major political party —known as “Tangentopoli”—had swept away the post-war political mainstays, including the Christian Democrats. Tangentopoli shattered Catholic political unity and paved the way for new parties.

The Mafia was engaged in a war with the state, which led to the murder of judges Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, as well as two blessed, Judge Rosario Livatino and Father Pino Puglisi.

John Paul II, traveling in Sicily, after a meeting with Judge Livatino’s parents, spoke scathingly against the Mafiosi, urging them to convert because God’s judgment was coming. John Paul II’s words provoked retaliation from the Mafia, which also planted bombs in front of the Cathedral of St. John Lateran and the Church of San Giorgio al Velabro.

Cardinal Ruini navigated these complex times, initially by continuing to seek a unified Catholic center and by supporting the parties that had emerged following the dissolution of the Christian Democrats.

Then he realized that the time had come for Catholics to engage not just with one party but with multiple parties. “Better to be contested than irrelevant” became the animating idea behind Ruini’s project of political and cultural presence.

At a time when there is no party, no body, no government to advance Catholic ideas, Ruini saw the urgency of the need for culture to be Christian-oriented, to permeate society, and to inspire politicians, even those from opposing camps, to unite in a common vision for the common good, even as they disagreed about the best way to pursue and achieve it..

It was a rather revolutionary approach for Italy, a traditionally conservative country that for forty years after World War II had been governed by a Catholic party, and which had also been rebuilt by Catholics who had opposed Fascism during the war.

Ruini’s vision also reached into the international arena, dovetailing with John Paul II’s vision of a Church committed to culture, first and foremost.

John Paul II had developed this conviction in Poland, understanding that the fight against the Communist Party could not be a frontal, ideological struggle, but had to begin with culture itself. The Polish pope sent, for instance, Cardinal Poupard, his envoy to the Soviet Union, to give speeches not on theology but on culture, thus breaking up the remnants of the Soviet Empire.

Cardinal Ruini’s great legacy is therefore precisely in the strength of a commitment that transcends party lines and touches upon culture. The debate has never stopped. Benedict XVI maintained John Paul II’s line, with a less interventionist approach, but always reflecting on the need to restore Christianity to the center of the village.

Pope Francis, however, reversed the issue: it is the Church that must speak where needed, adopting its own language when necessary. With Ruini, the discussion focused on non-negotiable principles. Pope Francis, who also had fiery words on issues like abortion, preferred instead to engage the world through compromise, negotiating on issues and language, in the need to convey a Christian language.

And Leo XIV?

In his speeches, the theme is very precise. Leo XIV speaks of principles and asks Christians to apply them. If the speech to the popular movements at the beginning of his pontificate still seemed written in the time of Pope Francis, as did the first exhortation, Dilexi Te, on poverty, Leo XIV has increasingly taken on a different tone.

Not a call to political activism, but not a compromise with the world either: Leo XIV’s language is that of truth, even when it is not understood (he said so in his first speech to the diplomatic corps) or when one risks being scorned (he explained this at the prayer vigil for peace on April 11, 2026).

Leo XIV asks Christians to know the principles, to apply them, and to bring them to life.

It’s a synthesis of the idea of a cultural warrior and that of a somewhat Third World presence. We don’t know how Cardinal Ruini’s great legacy will evolve, namely the cultural project, which has been diluted over the years, halted in some way by situations that had little to do with the project itself.

What is certain is that Ruini’s legacy is enormous.

Some complain that Ruini was too political. Well, he was because the times required it. He remained a priest in love with God, a priest full of faith who always interpreted his life as service, even and especially when he was challenged.

The important thing was not to be irrelevant.