As we suspected, it is now a numerical certainty: more than 65% of the current cardinals have lost their Latin, or more precisely they have never learned it.
The revelation was made by the Vaticanist of the newspaper Il Tempo, Francesco Capozza, on his Facebook page of August 4, 2026: "My research lasted several months; I consulted the heads of seminaries, universities, congregations and many other sources. The result is embarrassing: more than 65% of the current College of Cardinals does not know a word of Latin, has never studied it, has never understood it. This is the extremely serious legacy of Bergoglio, who entrusted to the Church ignorant cardinals, without talent or competence, who do not know that Latin is the official language of the Church."
He added: "Most of these people do not even speak English, but exclusively their own national language. Ignorant, devoid of specific skills, without any legal, theological or liturgical basis. This is the Church of today and if Leo XIV does not make a clean slate, it will be an even worse tragedy than the last twelve years."
The Use of Latin
On his blog Philosophia Perennis, the German journalist David Berger offers an enlightening comment, taken up by InfoVaticana on August 6: "More than two-thirds of the cardinals barely master Latin. What, at first glance, seems to be only a marginal remark to classical philologists, could in fact reveal one of the deepest crises of the Catholic Church. For whoever loses the language in which faith, liturgy and canon law have been formulated for centuries ends up losing direct access to his own tradition. [...]
"It is in no way a question of romantic nostalgia for a supposedly glorious past, nor of the preference of those who are fond of the classical liturgy. The question is much more fundamental: can a Church preserve its unity when its highest representatives no longer master the language in which its theology, canon law and teachings have been formulated for centuries? […] Latin has never been a mere historical relic for the Catholic Church. It is, strictly speaking, its official language. For nearly two thousand years, papal legislative texts, canon law, and numerous magisterial documents have been promulgated in Latin, in their binding form. And rightly so: an immutable language preserves the precision of theological concepts better than any modern lingua franca. Its words are not subject to the ideological and social upheavals to which living languages are constantly exposed. It is precisely for this reason that Latin is particularly apt to express truths with precision and permanence."
David Berger makes this sad observation: "In many seminaries, Latin occupies only a marginal place. Many candidates for the priesthood only discover this language in introductory courses, without ever acquiring the ability to read ecclesiastical documents or the Fathers of the Church in their original language. The result is not only a gap in classical training, but above all the disappearance of direct access to the sources of the Catholic faith. For theology flourishes thanks to precise concepts. Saint Thomas Aquinas himself knew that a slight change of perspective can have profound consequences for the understanding of a doctrine. Concepts such as grace, person, substance, nature, or charity can only be translated approximately into modern languages. Every translation necessarily involves an interpretation. This is why the Church has always written her sacred texts in a language whose meaning has remained stable through the centuries."
The Encyclical Magnifica Humanitas
"The relevance of this problem became clear with the first encyclical of Pope Leo XIV. For the first time, a magisterial document of such importance was not published from an original Latin text, but appeared directly in various versions in modern languages. While this may seem practical, it nevertheless raises considerable questions. Shortly after its publication, debates arose around central concepts, for example when it comes to 'humanity.' What exactly is it? Biological species? The human family? The whole of humanity? Or the common human nature on which natural law is based? The different language versions suggest different interpretations. An authoritative original Latin text would, at the very least, have provided an unequivocal hermeneutical point of reference."
"At a time when fundamental anthropological concepts are increasingly being challenged by gender ideologies, trans-humanism, and technological advances, conceptual precision is not an academic secondary issue. It is essential to understanding the Church's statements and their consequences."
David Berger concludes judiciously: "From this perspective, Capozza's words sound like a warning. A Church whose highest dignitaries no longer master their official language loses an essential instrument for its theological understanding. It becomes more dependent on translations, on national linguistic spheres, on the different theological schools and, ultimately, on the dominant currents of each era."
"And Latin embodies precisely a freedom that is often neglected today. Unlike English, it is not the language of a world political or economic power. It does not belong to any particular people. An African, Asian, American or European bishop meets another bishop on the same linguistic ground. This is why Latin has never been the expression of cultural superiority, but the very bond of a universal Church."
He warned: "Whoever loses the language of the Church loses much more than vocabulary and grammar: he loses direct access to a spiritual treasure that has shaped Western thought for nearly two millennia. And a Church that knows its sources only second-hand may one day be unable to make its own inimitable voice heard."