The Two Holinesses: The Dalai Lama, Pope Leo, and China

Two different spiritual leaders share a passion for freedom of religion or belief and a common problem: the Chinese persecution of believers.

By Vas Shenoy

July 17, 2025

The Dalai Lama (photo by Tenzin Choejor: source: The Office of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet) and Pope Leo XIV (credits).

On the surface, they could not be more different. One was born in a humble, agrarian household in rural Tibet ninety years ago in 1935, and the other in the suburbs of Chicago to a middle-class Roman Catholic family in 1955. Tenzin Gyatso was recognized as the 14th Dalai Lama in 1937. He formally took spiritual and temporal authority at 15 in 1950. Robert Francis Prevost was elected Pope Leo XIV, the head of the Roman Catholic Church, at the age of 70 in 2025.

As he turns 90, the Dalai Lama has become a symbol of peace, nonviolence, and tolerance and has lived through seven papacies, counting Pope Leo. Both are holy men who hold ecumenical as well as political power and spiritual responsibility for the millions that follow them. In a volatile geopolitical world, their power and goodwill extend across continents, as do prayers for their intercession for the protection of humanity. They are the voice of the human conscience, of the most vulnerable of humanity.

At this pivotal moment, both spiritual giants—His Holiness Pope Leo XIV in Rome and His Holiness the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala—face a common enemy, the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) authoritarian encroachments on religious autonomy. Like their predecessors, their legacies carry the weight of resisting oppressive power structures.

When Pope Leo XIV inherited the controversial Vatican-China agreement forged by his predecessor, Pope Francis, the goal was clear: to secure a voice in appointing bishops in China. In practice, it has been a one-sided affair. While the agreement has resolved some diocesan disputes and brought parts of China’s Catholic Church into formal alignment, Beijing has repeatedly violated its terms. Bishops are still being appointed without Vatican approval, and the underground Catholic Church feels increasingly abandoned and betrayed by Rome.

The arrest and trial of Cardinal Joseph Zen in Hong Kong—a vocal critic of the agreement and defender of civil liberties—underscored the dangers of compromise with a regime that sees religious independence as subversion. Under Leo, the Vatican has grown quieter but not blind. There are increasing murmurs within the Curia about whether to end the accord altogether. As the first American pope, Leo brings a different sensibility—less patient, more pragmatic, and perhaps more willing to call Beijing’s bluff.

Cardinal Joseph Zen. Credits.

As primate of unity, he must ask: can the Church dare to defend its persecuted faithful, or will it accept silence in exchange for marginal influence?

The Dalai Lama’s conflict with China began long before Pope Leo’s time. In 1959, after China crushed an uprising in Tibet, the young spiritual leader fled to India. There, he rebuilt his community and government in exile, preserved Tibetan Buddhism, and became one of the most respected moral leaders of the century. But Beijing never let go.

Under Xi Jinping, China has intensified its campaign to erase Tibetan identity—replacing Tibetan-language education with Mandarin, flooding the region with Han settlers, and placing monasteries under state surveillance. Xi’s approach draws not from his father, Xi Zhongxun—a relatively reform-minded figure who once advocated limited dialogue with the Dalai Lama—but from the rigid centralism of Hu Jintao, whose legacy in Tibet was one of control and coercion.

Today, the ultimate confrontation looms. China insists that it will select the next Dalai Lama through its own religious affairs bureaucracy, using a 2007 law that mandates state approval for all reincarnated lamas. The Dalai Lama has made it clear: his reincarnation will not be born under Chinese control. He has even hinted that there may be no reincarnation at all unless Tibet is free to determine its spiritual future. Today, Beijing’s insistence on a government-certified Dalai Lama is less about faith and more about silencing dissent, turning faith into yet another arm of state repression.

India is no passive observer in this unfolding drama. Home to the Dalai Lama’s government-in-exile and the center of global Tibetan Buddhism, New Delhi will inevitably play a role in recognizing or rejecting China’s puppet successor. The CCP has already warned India to “stay out,” but Delhi understands what’s at stake—not just a spiritual succession, but a moral stance on sovereignty and belief.

Pope Leo, for his part, faces a more complex dilemma. Should the Vatican double down on engagement, risking complicity in state persecution, or should it withdraw and realign with the underground Church that has suffered for decades? Unlike his predecessor, Leo may be more willing to challenge Beijing publicly, especially if the persecution continues to intensify.

What unites these two holy men—despite their differences—is a shared belief that the state cannot dictate faith. Their struggles are not simply about religion but whether conscience and human faith can exist independently of political power. In an age where surveillance states grow bolder and democracy shrinks, the Vatican and Dharamsala may be among the last global institutions to stand on principle rather than profit. Their resistance is not just religious—they are tests of conscience to worldwide democracy and the freedom of the human soul.

As the Dalai Lama nears the end of his extraordinary life and Pope Leo begins his tenure, the world must decide: will it back those who defend freedom of belief, or will it bow to authoritarianism dressed in trade deals and diplomatic silence?

Faith, once again, is on the frontline. And this time, the stakes are not only spiritual—they are civilizational. The showdown ahead will define the moral compass of humanity.

Source: bitterwinter.org