THE PEOPLE'S POPE

He claims he is just an "old priest" of humble origins, but at 87, Pope Francis could yet become one of the great Catholic reformers. And that's what his enemies in the Vatican fear.

- WILLIAM LANGLEY

Pope Francis began this year in traditional fashion by celebrating the Catholic Church's World Day of Peace. His voice raspy and muffled from a bout of bronchitis, he called for unity and understanding, but around him the 

Vatican was a war zone. From the sanctums of the Holy See came the sounds of rebellion, discord and colliding egos. For most of his 11-year reign, Francis has exercised a kind of cautious radicalism, seeking as his supporters see it to make the church a more open and forgiving place. Now, at 87 and in failing health, he appears determined to dramatically accelerate the pace of change and his opponents are readying for a fight.

To the church's powerful conservative faction, such reforms as the blessing of same-sex marriages, easing opposition to divorce and abortion, and the "demasculinisation" (Francis's word) of the Vatican's power structures are akin to blowing up the 2000-year-old foundations of the Church.

The extent of the anger first emerged last year in an explosive circular that had been written by the controversial, late Australian Cardinal George Pell, which portrayed Francis's reign as a "disaster", a "catastrophe" and a "toxic nightmare". It has since been adopted as the core manifesto of resistance against what traditionalists see as a faddish and damaging liberalisation of the Church.

Written shortly before his death, aged 81, the former archbishop of Sydney outlined in unsparing detail what he saw as Francis's failings, including a fixation with "adapting [ourselves] to the world", rather than staying true to core Catholic beliefs, the "persecution" of traditionalists, and a blind eye turned to a financial crisis which could see the Vatican going broke.