Is a change looming for the Vatican’s second-in-command?

By Phil Lawler ( bio - articles - email ) | Oct 21, 2026

Cardinal Pietro Parolin, who has been the Vatican’s Secretary of State since 2013, has been the subject of some unwonted—and unwanted—speculation recently. Could the Vatican’s second most powerful figure be losing his influence? Perhaps even losing his position?

Consider: For the Holy See, the Secretariat of State is not simply a ministry of foreign affairs, like the US Department of State. The Secretariat is the primus inter pares among the offices of the Roman Curia, the office that guides and coordinates the work of all the other dicasteries. (I have argued that this arrangement is imprudent, because by its nature the Secretariat is inclined to give primary attention to worldly affairs rather than pastoral needs. But my opinion on that matter is not a factor here.) The role of the Secretary of State is best compared not with that of the American Secretary of State, but with the prime minister of a secular government.

Naturally, every Roman Pontiff wants a Secretary of State who shares his ideas about Church governance. When a new Pontiff takes office, after a period of transition while he settles in, he might think about replacing the incumbent Secretary. His choice for that post will likely be his most important personnel decision.

Pope Francis, for example, waited less than a year before naming Parolin to replace Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, who had been appointed by Pope Benedict XVI. Pope Benedict, on the other hand, waited replacing months before replacing Cardinal Angelo Sodano, the Secretary he had inherited. But then Pope Benedict was famously reluctant to make personnel switches, and Sodano, a Svengali of Vatican politics, was loath to surrender his power. As his pontificate nears the eighteen-month mark, then, Pope Leo could be contemplating a change?

But is he? The Pontiff has given no sign of dissatisfaction with Cardinal Parolin. Until quite recently his position seemed secure. However two developments raised the eyebrows of Vatican-watchers.

First, Cardinal Luis Tagle, not Parolin, was selected to become Dean of the College of Cardinals. That post is mostly ceremonial, until the Pope dies or retires, and the election (held before the Pope’s cancer diagnosis) came at a time when Leo seemed likely to be in office for years to come. Still there were only two eligible candidates, and the cardinals who cast their votes chose the less prominent prelate. The scuttlebutt in Rome suggests that the voters—perhaps reflecting the Pope’s preferences—decided that Cardinal Parolin already had enough responsibilities. True, the Secretary of State is a busy man. But the light duties of the Dean would not have made much difference in his schedule, and then-Cardinal Ratzinger was able to serve as Dean while acting as the right-hand of Pope John Paul II. So it is not irrational to wonder whether the cardinals passed over Parolin because they, or the Pope, or both, did not want to add to his influence.

Next, when Pope Leo’s cancer diagnosis was made public, Parolin remarked to reporters that the papacy might have to be “recalibrated” while the Holy Father recovered. That remark now seems very premature, since the Pope has bounced back quickly from his surgery. More important, the remark was presumptuous. It is never a healthy sign when the second-in-command suggests that his superior might be weakened.

Americans old enough to recall the attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan in 1981 will remember that while the President was rushed into surgery, the US Secretary of State, Alexander Haig, reassured excited reporters that the White House could handle a crisis while Reagan was unconscious or incapacitated. “I’m in control here,” Haig announced. From a legal perspective that statement was wrong; it is the Vice President who assumes presidential responsibilities. From a political perspective it was even more wrong; Haig appeared much too anxious to be “in control,” and that one ill-considered statement seriously damaged both his public image and his private influence within the Reagan administration.

Could Cardinal Parolin, too, pay the price for an unfortunate remark to reporters? The fact is that some Vatican journalists, rightly or wrongly, saw the “reconfigured” statement as evidence of tension between the Pope and the Secretary of State. And sometimes even the perception of tension is enough to make the tension real.

If Pope Leo decides that it is time for a change, he faces another ticklish problem. What would he do with Parolin? The cardinal is only 71: four years away from the ordinary retirement age. At least in the past century, every Secretary of State—save the few who died in office—has retired after stepping down from the post. (To be scrupulously accurate, Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli ceased to be Secretary of State in 1939 when he was only 62, when he became Pope Pius XII.) Cardinal Parolin has spent the past 40 years in Vatican diplomacy; he has never been a diocesan bishop. In any case a diocesan assignment—any diocesan assignment—would seem like a demotion. Yet if Pope Leo has any doubt that Parolin will fully support his pastoral priorities—and again, the Pontiff has given no outward indication of any such concern—he cannot afford to allow mixed signals from the Vatican, merely for the sake of outward appearances.