Could Pope Leo actually renounce his American citizenship?
And why might the Vatican want him to?
Since the election of Robert Francis Prevost to the See of Rome just under two weeks ago, Americans, Catholic and otherwise, have reveled in Leo XIV becoming the first U.S. citizen to serve as pope.
An American pope is, reasonably, a source of national pride and joy, especially for the local Church. And the novelty of an American pope provoked some instant reflection on the legal and constitutional questions it raises — like: can the pope run for president?
But, as the practicalities of the Leonine pontificate begin to settle in, The Pillar has learned that some senior officials at the Vatican’s Secretariat of State have expressed serious concerns at the new pope’s dual citizenship and urged an internal conversation about the prospect of Leo renouncing his U.S. passport.
The decision is ultimately up to Pope Leo himself, of course, and a formal act of renunciation would carry with it huge international significance. Even if the decision were made for the most serious and practical reasons, it would likely be interpreted widely as the pope turning his back on his homeland, and even spun as a political statement.
But, while the seriousness of the consequences of such a move is reasonably foreseeable, some close to the Secretariat of State have told The Pillar that there is now real consideration of the potential — and potentially unforeseeable — issues arising from a pope with American citizenship.
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The fact that Leo XIV has and — at least for the time being — retains an American passport creates its own issues for Pope Leo in the event he were to travel to the United States, though he has made it clear he has as yet no firm plans to do so.
Under U.S. law, American citizens are required to travel to and from the United States using American passports, even if they maintain dual nationality. This rule, brought in as a security measure under the George W. Bush administration, has caught all manner of dual nationals off guard at times.
Former UK prime minister Boris Johnson, for example, was born in New York and a dual US-UK citizen for most of his life. But he encountered problems in 2006, following the rule change, when he was detained at passport control for failing to produce a valid American passport despite his U.S. citizenship.
Johnson eventually renounced his American citizenship altogether by the time he came to serve as the UK foreign secretary and later prime minister — though this was primarily because of the onerous tax demands made by the IRS.
Leo would, at least technically, be expected to present his passport under the name of Robert Prevost were he to visit the country. The matter could be further complicated in that he would have no other passport to present.
As the head of state of Vatican City and the occupant and personification of the sovereign international entity of the Holy See, passports from both are issued under his authority and in his name. Monarchs, including the King of the United Kingdom, do not (and logically cannot) carry passports because the document would effectively be a paper of self-certification.
This is only an issue in theory, since it is to be assumed any travel to the U.S. by Leo would be treated as a state occasion and his arrival likely managed directly by the U.S. State Department. But it does highlight the legal restrictions to which a U.S. citizen is subject.
A more pressing, and harder to waive away, issue would likely prove to be the pope’s tax status.
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All U.S. citizens are required to file annual tax returns and financial disclosures with the Internal Revenue Service, and their income is subject to taxation — however and wherever in the world it is derived.
It is of course an open question what “salary” the pope can be said to receive personally — while the office formally comes with a modest stipend, it is legally contestable whether this is the same thing as a salary. And, more to the point, Leo could decline to take it, divert it to a charitable end, or decree it to be zero.
But the more complicated issue would be what is required of him in his annual financial disclosures. While declaring to the IRS his official stipend might not prove a prohibitive burden for the pope in choosing to keep his citizenship, it's not at all clear that the IRS would consider a simple declaration of income and personal assets sufficient.
Separate from official charitable funds linked to the Petrine office, the popes have and maintain personal discretionary accounts for personal and personally selected charitable expenses.
These are often funded by dedicated donations from individual Catholics for the pope’s private use and could reasonably be argued to be required for declaration on an annual tax return.
More broadly, funds like Peter’s Pence, the annual global collection to support the ministry and priorities of the Bishop of Rome, could easily be argued as fair game for federal tax purposes — at least as far as filing and declarations go, if not as taxable income.
But depending on one’s legal interpretation, Pope Leo could be held personally accountable in a much broader sense, and not just in regard to Vatican affairs: according to canon law, any legal entity’s ownership of ecclesiastical goods in the Church is “under the supreme authority of the Roman Pontiff.”
Now, canonically, this isn’t held to mean the pope has personal, direct ownership of any and all ecclesiastical goods. But, functionally, he is able to exercise full and immediate authority over them as if he did.
So the exact extent to which the federal government could demand intrusive accounting of papal, Vatican, and Church finances is something which would have to be litigated.
And, while a presidential administration could direct the IRS to effectively waive some obligations, or accept a set interpretation of what constitutes the relevant assets of “Robert Prevost” versus Pope Leo, that would be discretionary and subject to change after every election cycle.
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As inconvenient as an American pope’s passport issues might be, and as vexatiously burdensome as the IRS could make itself for tax purposes, though, the real issue at the heart of curial concerns over Pope Leo’s dual citizenship is liability.
For decades, and in multiple states, plaintiffs’ lawyers in various lawsuits brought against dioceses have sought to hold the Church liable at the highest and broadest institutional levels.
In some cases, often related to the clerical sexual abuse crisis, these suits have come in the form of class actions and settlements which have resulted in the bankruptcy of dioceses and archdioceses across the United States.
In determining the funds and assets available for payments to victims, the legal structure of dioceses has been an important consideration. Those in which all parishes and the diocese are organized as a singular corporation sole — where the legal personality, responsibility, and control of assets is concentrated in the person of the bishop — have found themselves open to considerable exposure.
At the same time, for decades, plaintiffs have sought to name the Vatican as a respondent in civil suits, citing Roman responsibility for hearing and handling cases of alleged clerical abuse and other issues.
While so far the Holy See’s sovereign status in international law has provided an effective shield of legal immunity in American civil cases, the Vatican officials most concerned about potential complications of Pope Leo’s American citizenship are unsure how sovereign immunity would apply to an American pope.
Long-arm statutes in many states allow for non-resident individuals to be named in lawsuits.
While this has not proven to be effective at piercing sovereign immunity in attempts to name foreign-born popes or the Vatican as a foreign government, it is not clear that the same result could be expected if “Robert Prevost,” the American citizen, were named as a respondent.
And, if a court did allow the pope to be named as a respondent, as the head of the global Catholic Church, and as the ultimate administrator of all the Church’s assets, it could allow for all Catholic dioceses to be held liable for meeting damages in the case, through the person of the pope.
Such a finding would almost certainly be appealed to the level of a supreme court, state or federal. While the Vatican might eventually win any such case, and establish a new precedent that sovereign immunity does apply to an American citizen pope, the legal process could drag on for years — and become a point of serious controversy and attract heavy criticism in the process.
While no definitive assessment of the issue has been formalized in the Vatican as yet, these are the concerns which are currently under discussion.
Of course, even if a firm and final recommendation is made to Pope Leo, he and only he — both as Roman pontiff and as the American citizen in question — can make the final decision.
But behind the enthusiasm over the novelty of the first American pope, the reality is becoming more complicated than many may have originally assumed.
The Pope should not use a U.S. passport or file at all with the IRS. If the U.S. government were ever to be so stupid as to demand that he do so, he could simply decline to ever visit, and, in the event of any IRS extortion or threats from courts, the U.S. could be threatened to be portrayed worldwide as an enemy of the Church.
The Church has a lot more leverage than it actually uses. The hierarchy could easily make direct appeals to individual politicians and their families and friends and donors. Even a single sympathetic senator could cause problems for a hostile administration.
I sure hope the Holy Father doesn’t have to go to the DMV.