The phrase is so broad that, taken seriously, it disables any structure that is not an individual conscience. And yet it is pronounced before political authorities, where precisely what is expected is to distinguish between personal morality and public order. That’s where the piece comes from.
Leo XIV, before the authorities of Cameroon, decided to recall that the commandment “love your neighbor as yourself” also governs international relations. He did not specify whether that includes borders, sanctions, or tariffs, but the line was set: diplomacy as an examination of conscience.
From there, everything fits with impeccable coherence. Hostile takeovers should be reconverted into exercises in corporate empathy; the board of directors, into a therapy group. The competitor ceases to be a rival and becomes a neighbor, with the logical consequence of ceding market share to him out of well-understood charity. The CNMV, predictably, will take note.
In the sports realm, the application is immediate. The forward, facing the opposing goalkeeper, will remember that he loves him as himself and will adjust the shot to his hands. The referee, for his part, will sanction with evangelical indulgence, lest strict justice wound sensitivities. Extra time will tend to resolve in a moral draw.
Criminal policy also simplifies. If the neighbor is the aggressor, loving him as oneself raises operational doubts about punishment. The judge might opt for a dialogued sentence, the prosecutor for an inclusive accusation. Prison, in its current format, seems difficult to sustain under this principle without nuances.
In international relations, the matter reaches its purest form. The state that applies sanctions should love the sanctioned as itself, which suggests lifting them or, at least, sharing their effects. In the case of armed conflict, the enemy ceases to be a useful category: it becomes a neighbor. Shooting under those conditions requires a more refined theology than that offered in Cameroon.
The problem is not the commandment, which belongs to the order of personal charity and has an indisputable moral density. The problem is its direct transposition to realms that operate with different categories: justice, prudence, common good, institutional responsibility. Without those mediations, the slogan does not elevate politics; it dissolves it.
If the proposal is taken seriously, the next step is logical: that the state renounce coercion, the forward the goal, and the judge the conviction. If it is not taken seriously, it remains in edifying rhetoric. Between both extremes, there is an entire tradition that distinguishes, nuances, and orders. It did not appear here.