Pope Francis, long celebrated as the “People’s Pope” for his humility, progressive stances, and compassionate leadership, now faces intensifying scrutiny over allegations that he shielded clergy members accused of sexual abuse, including one priest accused of violently raping nuns. A growing body of evidence and testimonies suggest that, despite public condemnations of abuse, Francis and the Vatican hierarchy may have turned a blind eye to internal reports, allowing predators to remain in ministry.
The most shocking case revolves around Father Marko Rupnik, a Slovenian priest and renowned religious artist. Multiple former nuns have come forward accusing Rupnik of coercive sexual abuse and spiritual manipulation over decades. Despite the seriousness of the claims — including allegations of violent rape — Rupnik remained protected within the Church and even received papal support. His work continued to be celebrated at the highest levels, and disciplinary measures were delayed or quietly reversed.
In 2019, a Vatican investigation into Rupnik’s conduct confirmed several of the allegations, and he was briefly excommunicated — only for the punishment to be mysteriously lifted weeks later. Vatican insiders say that Pope Francis was personally informed of the situation. Yet instead of transparency and justice, the Church appeared to prioritize damage control. Rupnik’s religious order, the Jesuits, only announced his expulsion in 2023, years after the initial reports.
Critics argue that this is not an isolated incident but a symptom of a broader systemic failure under Francis’s papacy. While the Pope has made bold public statements about “zero tolerance” for abuse, the implementation of real accountability has remained inconsistent. In several instances, known abusers were quietly relocated rather than removed from ministry. Church officials who attempted to expose abuse internally have reported being silenced, reassigned, or ostracized.
One Vatican whistleblower, speaking anonymously to La Repubblica, described “a culture of secrecy disguised as mercy.” He claimed that Pope Francis’s preference for reconciliation over punishment allowed some predators to escape meaningful consequences. “The rhetoric of compassion was weaponized,” the source said. “Forgiveness became a shield for repeat offenders.”
Defenders of Francis argue that the Pope inherited a deeply corrupt institution and has worked tirelessly to reform it. They point to his decision to defrock high-profile predator Cardinal Theodore McCarrick and his efforts to establish new protocols for handling abuse claims. However, survivors and advocates argue that the pace of reform has been glacial and selectively enforced.
“Pope Francis talks a lot about protecting the vulnerable,” said Marie Collins, a former member of the Vatican’s abuse commission and herself a survivor. “But in practice, those who protect abusers still seem to have more power than those who report them.”
Adding to the controversy is the Vatican’s opaque legal process. Internal investigations are rarely public, and few details are disclosed even to victims. The Church’s reliance on canonical proceedings rather than civil authorities has allowed many alleged predators to avoid prosecution entirely.
The crisis is now eroding Francis’s moral credibility. Once hailed as a revolutionary leader who could bring light to the dark corners of the Church, he is now viewed by some as complicit in maintaining those shadows. Calls for transparency and structural reform are growing louder — not only from victims’ groups but from within the Church itself.
As investigations continue and more victims step forward, the image of the “People’s Pope” is increasingly complicated. Whether Pope Francis will finally act decisively — or allow the culture of secrecy to persist — remains one of the most pressing moral tests of his pontificate.
