The first flurry of texts came through only a few days after the news of Pope Francis’s death: “Are we getting a Filipino in the Vatican?!,” a few friends messaged excitedly. While I am—to put it generously—a lapsed Catholic, those close to me know that I remain enthralled by the spectacle of a papal conclave. Sequestered inside the Sistine Chapel! Smoke signals! Special outfits! It’s no wonder Conclave enraptured so many of us: If the traditions depicted in the film hadn’t been already documented for centuries, you would swear it was all Hollywood magic.
But the fervor from my friends could be attributed to more than just the impending papal vote. For the first time in church history, a Filipino, Cardinal Luis Tagle, is a frontrunner for the highest office in all of Roman Catholicism, a denomination that counts approximately 1.4 billion people among its faithful. Electing Tagle (pronounced TAG-leh) would install the first Asian pontiff in modern times, and only the second born outside of Europe (with Francis, raised in Buenos Aires, being the first). If, when the white smoke blooms in St. Peter’s, it’s this 67-year-old prelate who assumes the papacy, it’s hard to overestimate what the reaction would be in the Philippines, where my father grew up: I imagine something akin to if Taylor Swift had a concert on the moon, and the whole country was invited. Because, if you’ve met a Filipino, you’ve probably met a Catholic—even if, like me, they haven’t seen the inside of a church for years. (Please don’t tell my titas.)
The Roman Catholic Church has had an outsize impact on this archipelago nation: 80% of the country identifies as such, a vestige of the Spanish colonial rule that lasted for nearly three centuries. Today, the Philippines has the largest Catholic population in all of Asia, plus five members in the College of Cardinals, which might be enough of a voting bloc to sway others in Tagle’s direction. While we’ll have to wait until the end of the conclave—which begins today in Vatican City—to find out, the immense swelling of cultural pride for Chito, as the Cardinal prefers to be called, has been thrilling to take part in.
As any Filipino can attest, we are almost comically proud when one of our own garners attention in any field, however dubious (looking at you, Manny Pacquiao). And perhaps the only category that would instill more national pride than a pop star (hi, Olivia Rodrigo) would be a pope. Thankfully, Tagle’s values follow mostly in his predecessor Francis’s reformist footsteps: He is known for his work with the poor, he is outspoken against climate change, and he’s called for the Church to change its judgmental attitudes towards single mothers, divorcees, and the queer community.
Tagle’s newfound prominence also arrives at a time when the Filipino diaspora is looking for both comfort and solidarity. Last month in Vancouver, 11 people were killed and more than two dozen injured when a driver plowed into a crowd at a Filipino Lapu Lapu Day block party. And while May in America is recognized as Asian American Pacific Islander Month, pride is complicated when we’re also saddled with a president who seems nothing less than hellbent on stifling the voices and celebration of any minority population. The cardinal, with his viral videos singing to his congregation, has had a wonderfully uniting and mobilizing impact on Filipinos around the globe. And on a more poignant note, in the wake of a tragedy like Vancouver, he’s a potent reminder that our people can be leaders.
On a personal level, I wish I could share all this Tagle-related news—the memes!—with my father. In fact, my first instinct when a friend texted me about the existence of this charismatic Filipino cardinal was to immediately call my dad. But my father, documentarian Noel “Sonny” Izon, passed away suddenly in the fall of 2023. A graduate of Tagle’s same school, Ateneo de Manila, he spent his career making films that centered and celebrated the Filipino experience, telling stories like those of the 7,000 Filipino-American soldiers who volunteered to fight during World War II. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that one day he would have even wanted to create a movie about the cardinal himself.
Nevertheless, the excitement around Tagle has made me feel closer to my dad’s presence. Unlike many of my cousins, I grew up in the States, squarely more American than Filipino (or Italian, like my mom’s side). It can sometimes be tricky to find your identity as a first-generation kid, especially one that’s mixed. I’ve been accused of not “looking” Filipino, and my sister’s and my Tagalog is most proficient when we’re cursing. So the chance to take ownership, even in a small way, of Tagle has made me and many other Filipino Americans feel more tightly woven into communal cultural pride.
I would be remiss, however, if I made it seem that the cardinal is objectively a liberal outside the confines of the Vatican, or that I share all of his beliefs. There are many salient reasons that I have distanced myself from the teachings of the Catholic Church: As a woman, as someone with many queer relatives and friends, and as a human being who values everyone’s right to their own bodily autonomy. But within the pantheon of papabile, or likely papal candidates, I am damn proud that one of the most open-minded and thoughtful is a Pinoy.
As the conclave commences this week, you’ll likely find me texting friends an embarrassing number of pope memes, papal betting odds, and streaming live feeds of St. Peter’s Square. But I’ve also pulled my dad’s old Ateneo windbreaker out of the closet. I figure it can’t hurt for good luck.