Alessandro Barbero: People Like San Francisco, But They Don’t Know Why

As the historian Zenda recalls, Alessandro Barbero (Turin, 1959) explains that this happens because Saint Francis “is such a contradictory figure that everyone can mirror themselves in him,” a man whose historical figure has been distorted by the very narratives that made him widely famous. Barbero, also a professor at the University of the Piedmontese East, and winner of the Strega Prize in 1996 with the novel Mr. Pyle’s Diary, has just published in Spain San Francisco. The Creation of a Saint (Taurus, 2026), an exhaustive and very well-written examination of a man with fresh and surprising ideas, who placed poverty and humility at the heart of everything, but who was also uneasy, rough, tormented, who spoke with wolves and birds — already. How does a saint differ from a madman? Here the Italian educator explains.

*****

—Professor Barbero, out of curiosity, how much Franciscan spirit was there in Mussolini’s life?

—A great deal! (Laughter) Saint Francis is such a contradictory figure that everyone can mirror themselves in him. Mussolini fought, just as Saint Francis did. Mussolini was a bricklayer for a period of his life, and Saint Francis was too. Mussolini loved birds… (Laughter)

—And how much Quixote-like spirit was there in Francis’s life?

—He wants to accomplish things that prove impossible, and he aims to carry them out to the very end. He believes he can run an organization without anyone giving orders, exerting power, or falling in love with power… until the last moment, and he expresses this in his Testament. He believes he can order the friars to work with their hands, and everyone has to work! He keeps repeating this right up until just before his death! This strikes me as very Quixote-like.

—What distinguishes a saint from a madman?

—Not at all! Saint Francis, when he was in the Crusaders’ camp, had a premonition. God tells him that if the Crusaders go into battle, they will be defeated. Francis speaks with his companion, because they were always paired, and tells him: “I want to tell the Crusaders. You’ll think I’m crazy.” And he responds: “I already consider you a madman; don’t worry.”

—If Francis opened a profile on a social network, how do you think he would describe himself?

—That is very difficult. I think he knew he was a saint. From an early age, he was convinced that he was destined to be famous worldwide, to be admired around the globe. He was mistaken about the manner: he thought he would become famous as a great warrior, as a knight; then he discovered that his life would take another path, but he knew he was meant for fame. In that respect, he resembles Mussolini as well. But he could not say it: if you say “I am a saint,” you stop being one. He knows this very well. He defines himself as “tiny,” as “the last,” and he strives to believe it.

—Would it be an exaggeration, even absurd, to compare him with a contemporary environmental activist?

—We see in Saint Francis aspects that we like. It is true that he loves nature, animals…, but he is not an ecologist in the way we understand it. In that era, nature was not under human threat: it is humans who are threatened by nature. He loves animals because he sees God in them. Biographers who want to exaggerate say that he loved all animals, but, in particular, he loved lambs.

—The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

—One must say this: in that era there were those who said that bodies, in the material world, grow ill, wither, die; therefore, this could not have been created by God. The Cathars said that God created the soul and not the body. Then, who created the body? Another evil creator? Who created bodies, death, decomposition? The Cathars, without realizing it, are no longer Christians, but Manichaeans: there are two stances, two deities for them. Francis never talks about this. When he dictates, he does not write, he dictates, because he is ill, nearly blind, the Laudato si’ says that everything that exists is good, created by God. Even death. Physical death. He does not know that he is fighting a battle against those who do claim that death was not created by God.

—Francis, on more than a few occasions, walked a path close to the boundaries of heresy. Did he express, as often and as intensely, his fidelity to the Church… to avoid ending up like the Cathars?

—Yes, but not in the sense of: “I will say these things to protect myself.” He was sincere. He knew that others like him had fallen in love with poverty, wanted to live in poverty, had not asked the Pope’s leave and lived clandestinely, outside the Church. He did not want that. Heresy is something else. In reality, we often have the impression that it was very clear to determine who was a heretic and who wasn’t, but the Church was open. Heresy was not so evident: there was lengthy discussion before declaring someone a heretic. Heresy is an assertion, a thesis, a doctrine. Francis does not support any doctrine. He is not a theologian, he has no theological opinions. The other way to be a heretic was disobedience to the Church. If you disobey the Church, the Church may say: “The disobedient denies, rejects this truth. Then, he is a heretic.”

—If Francis opened a profile on a social network, how do you think he would describe himself?

—That is very difficult. I think he knew he was a saint. From a very young age, he was convinced that he was destined to be famous throughout the world, to be admired everywhere. He was mistaken about the way: he believed he would be famous as a great warrior, as a knight; then he discovers that his life will be another, but he knows he is fated for fame. In that respect, he resembles Mussolini as well. But he could not say it: if you say “I am a saint,” you stop being one. He knows this very well. He defines himself as “very small,” as “the last,” and works hard to believe it.

—Would it be exaggerated, if not absurd, to compare him with a contemporary environmental activist?

—We see in Saint Francis aspects that we approve of. It is true that he loves nature, animals…, but he is not an eco-warrior in the sense we understand it. At that time, nature was not under human threat: it is man who is threatened by nature. He loves animals because he sees God in them. Biographers who want to exaggerate say he loved all animals, but, more particularly, lambs.

—The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

—There is one thing to say: in that period there were those who said that bodies, in the material world, become ill, wither, die; therefore, this could not have been created by God. The Cathars said that God created the soul and not the body. Then, who created the body? Another evil creator? Who created bodies, death, decomposition? The Cathars, without realizing it, are no longer Christians, but Manichaeans: there are two stances, two deities for them. Francis never speaks about this. When he dictates, he does not write, he dictates, because he is ill, nearly blind, the Laudato si’, says that everything that exists is good, created by God. Even death. Physical death. He does not know that he is fighting a battle against those who do claim that death was not created by God.

—Francis walked, on more than one occasion, along a path that hovered near the boundaries of heresy. Did he express so often, and so intensely, his loyalty to the Church… to avoid ending up like the Cathars?

—If Francis had a profile on a social network, how do you think he would describe himself?

—It is very hard. I think he knew he was a saint. From early on, he was convinced that he was destined to be famous around the world, to be admired everywhere. He was incorrect about the means: he believed he would become famous as a great warrior, as a knight; later he discovers that his life will take another path, but he knows he is meant for fame. In that respect, he resembles Mussolini as well. But he could not say it: if you claim “I am a saint,” you stop being one. He knows this very well. He describes himself as “very small,” as “the last,” and he strives to believe it.

—Would it be an exaggeration, if not absurd, to compare him with a contemporary environmental activist, right?

—We see in Saint Francis aspects that we like. It is true that he loves nature, animals… but he is not an ecologist as we understand it. In that era, nature was not under human threat: it is humanity that is threatened by nature. He loves animals because he sees God in them. Biographers who want to exaggerate say that he loved all animals, but, specifically, lambs.

—The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

—There is one thing to note: in that period there were those who said that bodies, in the material world, grow ill, wither, die; therefore, this could not have been created by God. The Cathars said that God created the soul and not the body. Then, who created the body? Another evil creator? Who created the bodies, death, decomposition? The Cathars, without realizing it, are no longer Christians, but Manichaeans: there are two stances, two deities for them. Francis never speaks of this. When he dictates, he does not write, he dictates, because he is ill, nearly blind, the Laudato si’ says that everything that exists is good, created by God. Even death. Physical death. He does not know that he is waging a battle against those who do claim that death was not created by God.

—Francis walked, on more than one occasion, along a path close to the boundaries of heresy. Did he express such frequent and intense allegiance to the Church… to avoid ending up like the Cathars?

—If Francis opened a profile on a social network, how would you describe him?

—It is very hard. I think he knew he was a saint. From a young age, he was convinced that he was destined to be famous around the world, to be admired globally. He erred in the manner: he believed he would be famous as a great warrior, as a knight; then he discovers that his life will be different, but he knows he is destined for fame. In that sense, he resembles Mussolini as well. But he could not say it: if you claim “I am a saint,” you cease to be one. He knows this very well. He describes himself as “very small,” as “the last,” and he works to believe it.

—Would it be an exaggeration, to say absurd, to compare him with a contemporary environmental activist, right?

—We see in Saint Francis aspects that we like. It is true that he loves nature, animals… but he is not an environmentalist in the sense we understand it. At that time, nature was not under human threat: humanity was the threat. He loves animals because he sees God in them. Biographers who want to exaggerate say that he loved all animals, but particularly lambs.

—The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

—One thing must be said: in that era there were those who argued that bodies, in the material world, grow ill, wither, die; therefore, this could not have been created by God. The Cathars claimed that God created the soul and not the body. Then, who created the body? Another malevolent creator? Who created bodies, death, decomposition? The Cathars, without realizing it, are no longer Christians, but Manichaeans: there are two positions, two deities for them. Francis never discusses this. When he dictates, he does not write, he dictates, because he is ill, nearly blind, the Laudato si’ says that everything that exists is good, created by God. Even death. Physical death. He does not know that he is waging a battle against those who do claim that death was not created by God.

—Francis repeatedly walked along paths near the boundaries of heresy. Did he express such unwavering loyalty to the Church… in order not to end up like the Cathars?

—The Franciscan order was a buffet of conflicts. Not only after the saint’s death: when Francis returns from Egypt, he finds chaos.

—It is one of the great contradictions of Francis. There is another major contradiction, which is the relationship with women.

—I’ll ask you about that later.

—Francis is full of small contradictions, but the greatest contradiction is that he built an order… and he did not want to call it an order: he speaks of fraternity. In the beginning, he is very pleased because many people come. One day, he tells the friars: “God has shown me our future. The streets will be full of our friars: Spaniards, Germans, French… it is very beautiful.” Once there are friars in Spain, Germany, or France, Francis cannot be there, and ministers must be named. Of course, Francis says that poverty is not only about owning nothing, but also about not wanting to command anyone. “We are the lesser brothers, the smallest. We only obey.”

—Reality is a hard wall.

—He contradicts himself because he can command, and he does it well! He says “I want,” “I exhort”! By stepping away from the leadership of the order, he appoints a friar guardian and says to him: “From now on, I will obey you.” He realizes that he must force himself to obey. He obeys the guardian with dedication and commitment, but he says to him: “I want to do something and you must grant me permission to do it!” Francis is adept at giving orders, but he discovers that others also enjoy giving orders. He discovers that the friars who hold positions within the order, the ministers, are very attached to power. This is a huge contradiction: there cannot be an organization without a hierarchy.

—The Franciscan order was a buffet of conflicts. Not only after the saint’s death: when Francis returns from Egypt, he finds chaos.

—Yes, but the most important contradiction is the one with women.

—I’ll ask you about that later.

—Francis is full of small contradictions, but the biggest contradiction is that he built an order…, and he does not want to call it an order: he speaks of fraternity. At first, he is very happy because many people come. One day he tells the friars: “God has shown me our future. The streets will be filled with our friars: Spaniards, Germans, French… it’s very beautiful.” Once there are friars in Spain, Germany or France, Francis cannot stay there and it is necessary to appoint ministers. Of course, Francis says that poverty is not only about not possessing anything, but also about not wanting to command anyone. “We are the lesser brothers, the smallest. We only obey.”

—The reality is a hard wall.

—Reality bites back. He demonstrates that the friars who hold offices within the order, the ministers, cling to power. He is forced to acknowledge that there must be someone to obey; he cannot maintain a leadership without structure. He has to appoint a guardian friar and say: “From now on, I will obey you.” He realizes he must compel himself to obey. He obeys the guardian with devotion, but says: “I want to do something and you must grant me permission to do it.” Francis has a talent for commanding, but learns that others also relish ruling. He discovers that those with positions within the order are too closely tied to power. This is a profound contradiction: an organization cannot exist without a hierarchy.

—The Franciscan order was a buffet of conflicts. Not only after the saint’s death: when Francis returns from Egypt, he finds chaos.

—We are nearly done, professor. The previous pope was named Francis…

—And he was not Franciscan, but Jesuit.

—And Argentinian…

—The only certainty we can affirm is that he chose the name Francis, knowing that the message behind it was powerful. When people think of Francis, they see a rejection of power, wealth, and modesty. When the world learned that the Pope had chosen Francis as his name, they saw it as a challenge, a provocation to the powerful Church. Then, we can imagine what Pope Francis wanted and could do. Frankly, he did not achieve much. The Church has not changed much.

—And how is the state of Franciscan spirit?

—There is very little. Francis’s era was one of superrich people and those who were very poor. Most people wanted success and money, just as today. At first, he was dismissed as mad, but he captivated because he had charisma and many were ready to say, “I want that too.” People who had professional careers, who had earned a lot of money. Today, the Franciscans are still there, they exist, but they have no real weight in the West. If someone new like Francis arrived, I cannot imagine a great businessman or a minister gifting all their possessions to the poor. People like Saint Francis, but they do not know exactly why. He is a figure, a holy card, but why do people like him?