BREAKING Pope Leo XIV's Historic 1st Address to Spain's Parliament "Every human life must be recognized and safeguarded from conception to its natural end"
Pope Leo XIV addressed members of Parliament in Spain on Monday, marking the first time a Pontiff has ever addressed the institution.
FULL TEXT ADDRESS OF THE HOLY FATHER
Congress of Deputies (Madrid) - Monday, 8 June 2026
Mr Prime Minister,
Madam President of the Congress of Deputies,
Mr President of the Senate,
Mr President of the Constitutional Court,
Madam President of the Supreme Court and the General Council of the Judiciary,
Members of the Congress of Deputies and the Senate,
Ladies and gentlemen,
I thank the President for her kind words, as well as for the invitation the Apostolic See received on the occasion of my visit to this country. I am also grateful for the courtesy of welcoming me to this historic Palace of the Congress of Deputies, a prominent center of the institutional, legal and democratic life of the Kingdom of Spain.
I come before you as the Bishop of Rome and Shepherd of the Catholic Church, aware that the mission entrusted to the Successor of the Apostle Peter, as the principle and foundation of the unity of the Bishops and the faithful (cf. Lumen Gentium, 23), places the Holy See, in a special way, in dialogue with peoples and with States.
My presence among you is intended as a gesture of closeness to Spain, within the framework of mutual cooperation, and as a message offered in the spirit of service to the human person. The Church “walks alongside humanity,” shares its hopes and its wounds, listens to the questions of every age and allows herself to be challenged by “everything concerning the lives of contemporary men and women.” For this reason, when the Church addresses anything concerning public life, she does so while respecting the proper mission of institutions and the legitimate responsibility of those who have received the mandate to legislate. She recognizes “the autonomy of earthly realities” and “the distinction between the ecclesial community and the political community”; and, precisely from this awareness, the Church offers a reflection born of the desire to serve the common good and to recall what makes human coexistence truly human (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 18, 19, 22).
In this chamber, social coexistence takes legal form. Here, differences are heard, sorted out, and, when possible, transformed into shared decisions. For this reason, beyond the legitimate diversity of positions, every legislative task ultimately confronts a decisive question: what conception of the human person inspires laws, and what kind of society do those laws build?
In this regard, Spain has a particularly rich heritage. Its geographical and political identity is intertwined with a history in which faith and reason, art and law, tradition and thought have come together in a fruitful manner. In its cathedrals and universities, its immortal literature, its legal institutions and the very spirit of its people, endures a heritage that has shaped its way of living out freedom, practicing justice and organizing communal life.
From the timeless pages of Don Quixote, where Cervantes proclaimed that “freedom… is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has bestowed upon men” (Don Quixote de la Mancha, II, 58), to the spiritual depth of Saint Teresa of Ávila, and from the great Spanish legal tradition to the metaphysical restlessness of Unamuno, who recalled that man “was not resigned to die utterly” (The Tragic Sense of Life, I), Spain has known how to view the human being as more than just a cog in the social, economic or political order. It has recognized the human being as a creature open to truth, endowed with freedom, and driven by a thirst for eternity that no temporal reality can quench — in a word, as someone whose dignity takes precedence over all utility and to whose service legislative action is subject.
For this reason, when speaking today of the human person, this reflection naturally leads to Salamanca and the thought that matured there. The symbolic presence in this hall of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella recalls the moment when Spain found itself facing historic responsibilities of universal scope. A few years later, Salamanca would undertake, with particular clarity, the moral and legal reflection that the situation demanded. At that university, five hundred years ago, when new worlds and immense possibilities were opening up in relations among peoples, some teachers understood that reason could not be invoked to legitimize whatever force or self-interest that seemed convenient. They thus introduced into historical discernment the question of the irreducible value of every human being and the moral limits of power. It must be acknowledged that society and the Church herself did not always live up to these insights found in their own Christian tradition.
However, that question opened up an intellectual and moral horizon that transcended its historical moment. The intuition of the totus orbis — of a human community broader than any particular power — made it possible to affirm the existence of legal and moral bonds among peoples. From Spain, the reflections of the School of Salamanca — and in particular those of Fray Francisco de Vitoria, along with other Dominicans and Jesuits — helped to shape a legal and moral consciousness capable of remembering that authority always entails responsibility and that every human being must be recognized as a subject of rights and duties. That aspiration continues to resonate today: that dignity, justice and the common good should be the measure of social relations, both at the national and international levels.
This is one of Spain’s great legacies: having united historical action with the clarity of moral reason. That contribution, born on the banks of the Tormes, transcended classrooms and libraries, and became part of a broader consciousness, shared by the international community, which continues to ask itself how to build peace on the recognition of the person and not on the imposition of force. That legacy also lives on in this Parliament, every time lawmakers ask themselves how to ensure that what is possible is just, that what is legal is truly humane, and that the will of the majority safeguards those goods that belong to all and respects that which no majority can legitimately violate.
The “Salamanca Question” continues to guide the work of those who serve in public life. Today, the new worlds opening up before us are no longer marked on maps: they unfold in technology, the economy, biomedicine, and the digital realm, where human power reaches into increasingly sensitive areas of personal and social life.
Progress offers admirable possibilities, and today we see this in a unique way in the development of artificial intelligence and new technologies. As I recalled in my recent Encyclical, technology in itself is not neutral because it takes on the face of those who conceive, finance, regulate and use it (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 9); therefore, in the face of the transformations of our time, our discernment must focus on the place of the human person in our decision making and on how the dignity of work, solidarity, social policy and the common good are today being addressed in new ways.
This discernment begins with a fundamental affirmation: every truly just society is built upon the recognition of the inviolable dignity of the human person. Such dignity precedes any concession by the State and cannot be subordinated to shifting social consensus or the whims of the majority at any given moment (cf. Benedict XVI, Address to the German Federal Parliament, 22 September 2011). It belongs to every human being by the very fact of their existence, and for this reason, it must guide every positive legal system. The Christian faith proclaims it on the basis of Revelation; human reason can recognize it as a requirement inscribed in the truth of man (cf. ibid.). When this conviction remains alive, the law becomes a safeguard for all and a guarantee against the imposition of particular interests and agendas.
On this basis, it falls to me today to speak a calm and firm word to those who bear the grave responsibility of legally ordering social coexistence. This coexistence can be threatened by the throwaway culture, as Pope Francis so often warned (cf. Address to the Plenary Assembly of the Pontifical Academy for Life, 27 September 2021). In this sense, if life ceases to be recognized as a fundamental value, what future can our societies have? Can a community that casts into the shadows the unborn child, the elderly, the sick, those who suffer in silence, or those who depend entirely on the care of others be called fully just? The defense of human life is neither a partisan issue nor a confessional interest: it is a goal of civilization. Every human life must be recognized and safeguarded from conception to its natural end, in every circumstance of its existence. When this certainty is obscured, the most vulnerable are the first victims, and the law loses its deepest meaning: to serve and protect every person. For this reason, the moral greatness of a nation is manifested, above all, in its capacity to accompany, protect and love those lives that are most fragile.
The common good is, in a certain sense, the “social expression of the dignity recognized in every person” (Magnifica Humanitas, 59). It does not consist in the mere sum of particular interests, but rather in “the sum of those conditions of social life which allow social groups and their individual members relatively thorough and ready access to their own fulfillment” (Gaudium et Spes, 26). When the common good ceases to be a shared horizon, public action runs the risk of fragmenting into partial interests, incapable of safeguarding what belongs to all.
In this context, the family — the primary human reality and the natural foundation of the community — takes on particular importance. In the home, generations intertwine and a living memory is passed on, giving inner continuity to society. Where the family is upheld, the spiritual and social stability of nations is also strengthened. The family will always be the first school of humanity, where one learns, before anywhere else, the basic grammar of living together: welcoming life, caring for others, forgiving, serving and belonging.
Educational institutions also play a decisive role in this task. In them, new generations can learn to seek and love the truth, to reflect on the meaning of life and the dignity of every person. For this reason, many parents who wish for their children to learn to relate to others, to think critically, and to acquire solid values place great hope in these institutions, seeing them as valuable allies in their children’s education. This collaboration must always respect the “primary and inalienable right” of parents to “choose the kind of education and formation for their children, in a manner consistent with their moral, cultural and religious convictions” (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 143; cf. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, art. 18.4).
The affirmation of human dignity cannot remain abstract when so many people are forced to leave everything behind in search of peace, security, and a future. The tragic drama of migration also challenges the conscience of nations and the ethical foundation of the international order today. Numerous men, women, and children are forced, by often dramatic circumstances, to leave their communities and leave behind loved ones, histories, and ties. This reality goes beyond any purely demographic or economic analysis: it constitutes an eminently moral and legal issue. Wherever people are discriminated against because of their national, ethnic, religious or linguistic origin, or because of their economic or social status, the universal principle of the equal dignity of all human beings is seriously violated.
The situation of migrants and refugees calls for a response that focuses on people, addresses the root causes that force them to leave, and goes beyond the mere management of migration flows. This gives rise to a twofold demand for social justice: to offer safe and legal pathways, a respectful welcome and real opportunities for integration; and, at the same time, to promote the right to remain in one’s own land, working to ensure that no one has to leave their home due to a lack of peace, security or decent living conditions, including economic inequalities and the effects of the climate crisis (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 81).
In recent years, increasingly dangerous routes have highlighted the extremely high cost of this reality, so often hidden or ignored. Many people remain prey to traffickers and smugglers who take advantage of their desperation. It is necessary to strengthen prevention, rescue and assistance for victims, especially within the framework of regional and multilateral cooperation.
No nation can face a challenge of this magnitude on its own. Therefore, a coordinated, supportive, and effective response is indispensable, one capable of guaranteeing protection, welcome, and real opportunities for integration to those who migrate. When the institutional response is accessible, just and coordinated, borders cease to be places of abandonment and can become spaces for the responsible protection of human dignity.
Ladies and gentlemen:
The world is undergoing a profound spiritual and cultural crisis, which manifests in multiple forms of violence, polarization and mutual distrust. In this context, peace emerges as a political aspiration and, even more so, as a true moral imperative. It calls for public discourse that respects those who think differently, institutions dedicated to fostering dialogue, a historical memory that seeks truth and reconciliation and a social life capable of sustaining civic friendship and mutual respect amid disagreement.
On the international level, peace demands diplomatic courage, ethical responsibility and a vision for the future grounded in respect for the identity of every people and in the obligation of States to resolve their disputes through the peaceful means offered by international law. Every war constitutes, ultimately, a painful defeat of the capacity to negotiate and also of that common human consciousness that recognizes bonds of justice among nations. Weapons may impose a temporary silence; but they can never build a genuine and lasting peace.
It is therefore a cause for concern that, in various parts of the world — and in Europe as well — rearmament is once again being presented as an almost inevitable response to the fragility of the international situation. True security, however, stems from justice, patient dialogue, respect for international law, and a policy capable of placing the lives of peoples above the interests that profit from war. The development of new technologies and artificial intelligence in the military sphere also demands rigorous ethical oversight, so that decisions regarding life and death are never left to automated systems nor removed from the moral responsibility of the human person (cf. Address at the University of La Sapienza, 14 May 2026).
The international community is called to rediscover the indispensable value of dialogue as a patient path toward just and lasting agreements, founded on respect for treaties, on the transparency of diplomatic action and on the sincere will to prioritize peace over the use of force. From this spring confidence and hope.
As the motto of the European Union, In varietate concordia, reminds us, true unity does not standardize, but rather unites in diversity, making cultures, sensibilities, and traditions an opportunity for mutual enrichment.
Likewise, within societies themselves, it is urgent to build a culture of reciprocity. Political pluralism should not degenerate into the constant disparagement of one’s adversary. In a mature society, even conflict can become a path to peace, when differences are softened by listening and directed toward recognizing the needs, aspirations and capabilities of all.
But peace is not merely a political or institutional reality. It is also the fruit of conscience, where resentment, indifference, and hatred give way to reconciliation. For this reason, it is also established and protected through language. Words can open paths or close them; they can illuminate reality or distort it to the point of making encounter impossible. Those who hold public office therefore have a special obligation to be mindful of their words in order to disarm language (cf. Message for Lent 2026, 13 February 2026). Firmness does not require contempt; disagreement does not entail humiliation.
From this respect for others also arises the duty to safeguard the space where their convictions, their conscience, and their relationship with God mature. Attention to this inner realm allows for a better understanding of a decisive issue for every truly democratic society: freedom of thought, conscience and religion, a fundamental right that protects the most intimate sphere of the person. The freedom upon which the contemporary state is built, if it is authentic, recognizes the religious dimension of the human person, respects it and protects it legally; and it ensures that faith is not a reason for which a person has to forfeit his or her contribution to society.
Without confusing the legal sphere with the moral one, it is also worth recalling that freedom must be understood in its fullness. Being free does not simply mean being free from coercion or having many choices; it means being able to recognize the good and commit to it responsibly. For this reason, every truly free society also requires a proper limitation of public power, so that the freedom of individuals, communities and associations is not unduly restricted (cf. Dignitatis Humanae, 1). From this perspective, the legitimate autonomy of the temporal order must never see itself as hostile to religion. Faith does not seek to impose itself through privileges or coercion; yet neither can it be silenced as if it were irrelevant to public life.
In this context, the sacramental seal of confession holds special importance for the Catholic Church. It is part of the broader sphere of religious freedom, which guarantees believing communities their own space for life, organization and internal discipline (cf. Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, The Helsinki Final Act, 1 August 1975, Principle VII). To protect it legally, as is done in a similar way in some professions, means preserving a sacred space of inner freedom, where the believer can open his or her soul to God without fear of external pressures, as international norms also recognize (cf. International Criminal Court, Rules of Procedure and Evidence, Rule 73.3).
Ladies and Gentlemen:
Allow me to pause for a moment to reflect on some of the images that adorn this Chamber. In this Chamber, natural light streams in through the skylight that crowns the room. That light coming from above may remind us that politics, too, must acknowledge a force that precedes and transcends it.
Likewise, the paintings on the upper part of the main wall, depicting the reception of the Gospel and the Decalogue, remind us of something essential. Without confusing the political order with the religious one, these symbols invite us to recognize that modern freedom has also been shaped by a long education of conscience, deeply marked by the Christian tradition. In that inner school, people learned that law must serve the good, that justice sets limits on force, that power requires legitimacy, that the poor belong fully to the community, that the foreigner must be welcomed in accordance with his dignity, and that human life can never be treated as a commodity.
A law does not attain its true greatness merely by having been formally enacted; it attains it when, in addition to being valid in form, it can stand before the dignity of the person and pass that test without shame.
I invite you, then, to lift your gaze to the world around you, not to turn away from reality, but to remember that every decision by public authorities affects real people, especially those who have less power to make their voices heard. The expanse of one’s vision consists precisely in looking more deeply at what is at stake in every public decision. This is why, alongside technical solutions and legal reforms, a moral renewal is also needed.
Spain has much to offer on this journey. It possesses a language that bridges continents; a cultural, legal and spiritual tradition that has successfully fostered a dialogue between faith and reason, law and conscience, unity and plurality. This historical experience also reminds us of the value of harmony and of the patient effort to build a peaceful and just society.
May this noble nation never lose sight of its roots nor the courage to look to the future. May Spain continue to be a land of encounter, of culture, of solidarity and of hope. And may its public life always know how to unite the firmness of convictions with the nobility of dialogue and the greatness of service.
May God grant peace to all nations of the earth, harmony to families and serenity to consciences. And may days of prosperity, justice and lasting peace descend upon the Kingdom of Spain, marked by the apostolic footprint of Saint James and by the maternal presence of Our Lady of the Pillar. Thank you very much.
Congress of Deputies (Madrid) - Monday, 8 June 2026
Mr Prime Minister,
Madam President of the Congress of Deputies,
Mr President of the Senate,
Mr President of the Constitutional Court,
Madam President of the Supreme Court and the General Council of the Judiciary,
Members of the Congress of Deputies and the Senate,
Ladies and gentlemen,
I thank the President for her kind words, as well as for the invitation the Apostolic See received on the occasion of my visit to this country. I am also grateful for the courtesy of welcoming me to this historic Palace of the Congress of Deputies, a prominent center of the institutional, legal and democratic life of the Kingdom of Spain.
I come before you as the Bishop of Rome and Shepherd of the Catholic Church, aware that the mission entrusted to the Successor of the Apostle Peter, as the principle and foundation of the unity of the Bishops and the faithful (cf. Lumen Gentium, 23), places the Holy See, in a special way, in dialogue with peoples and with States.
My presence among you is intended as a gesture of closeness to Spain, within the framework of mutual cooperation, and as a message offered in the spirit of service to the human person. The Church “walks alongside humanity,” shares its hopes and its wounds, listens to the questions of every age and allows herself to be challenged by “everything concerning the lives of contemporary men and women.” For this reason, when the Church addresses anything concerning public life, she does so while respecting the proper mission of institutions and the legitimate responsibility of those who have received the mandate to legislate. She recognizes “the autonomy of earthly realities” and “the distinction between the ecclesial community and the political community”; and, precisely from this awareness, the Church offers a reflection born of the desire to serve the common good and to recall what makes human coexistence truly human (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 18, 19, 22).
In this chamber, social coexistence takes legal form. Here, differences are heard, sorted out, and, when possible, transformed into shared decisions. For this reason, beyond the legitimate diversity of positions, every legislative task ultimately confronts a decisive question: what conception of the human person inspires laws, and what kind of society do those laws build?
In this regard, Spain has a particularly rich heritage. Its geographical and political identity is intertwined with a history in which faith and reason, art and law, tradition and thought have come together in a fruitful manner. In its cathedrals and universities, its immortal literature, its legal institutions and the very spirit of its people, endures a heritage that has shaped its way of living out freedom, practicing justice and organizing communal life.
From the timeless pages of Don Quixote, where Cervantes proclaimed that “freedom… is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has bestowed upon men” (Don Quixote de la Mancha, II, 58), to the spiritual depth of Saint Teresa of Ávila, and from the great Spanish legal tradition to the metaphysical restlessness of Unamuno, who recalled that man “was not resigned to die utterly” (The Tragic Sense of Life, I), Spain has known how to view the human being as more than just a cog in the social, economic or political order. It has recognized the human being as a creature open to truth, endowed with freedom, and driven by a thirst for eternity that no temporal reality can quench — in a word, as someone whose dignity takes precedence over all utility and to whose service legislative action is subject.
For this reason, when speaking today of the human person, this reflection naturally leads to Salamanca and the thought that matured there. The symbolic presence in this hall of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella recalls the moment when Spain found itself facing historic responsibilities of universal scope. A few years later, Salamanca would undertake, with particular clarity, the moral and legal reflection that the situation demanded. At that university, five hundred years ago, when new worlds and immense possibilities were opening up in relations among peoples, some teachers understood that reason could not be invoked to legitimize whatever force or self-interest that seemed convenient. They thus introduced into historical discernment the question of the irreducible value of every human being and the moral limits of power. It must be acknowledged that society and the Church herself did not always live up to these insights found in their own Christian tradition.
However, that question opened up an intellectual and moral horizon that transcended its historical moment. The intuition of the totus orbis — of a human community broader than any particular power — made it possible to affirm the existence of legal and moral bonds among peoples. From Spain, the reflections of the School of Salamanca — and in particular those of Fray Francisco de Vitoria, along with other Dominicans and Jesuits — helped to shape a legal and moral consciousness capable of remembering that authority always entails responsibility and that every human being must be recognized as a subject of rights and duties. That aspiration continues to resonate today: that dignity, justice and the common good should be the measure of social relations, both at the national and international levels.
This is one of Spain’s great legacies: having united historical action with the clarity of moral reason. That contribution, born on the banks of the Tormes, transcended classrooms and libraries, and became part of a broader consciousness, shared by the international community, which continues to ask itself how to build peace on the recognition of the person and not on the imposition of force. That legacy also lives on in this Parliament, every time lawmakers ask themselves how to ensure that what is possible is just, that what is legal is truly humane, and that the will of the majority safeguards those goods that belong to all and respects that which no majority can legitimately violate.
The “Salamanca Question” continues to guide the work of those who serve in public life. Today, the new worlds opening up before us are no longer marked on maps: they unfold in technology, the economy, biomedicine, and the digital realm, where human power reaches into increasingly sensitive areas of personal and social life.
Progress offers admirable possibilities, and today we see this in a unique way in the development of artificial intelligence and new technologies. As I recalled in my recent Encyclical, technology in itself is not neutral because it takes on the face of those who conceive, finance, regulate and use it (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 9); therefore, in the face of the transformations of our time, our discernment must focus on the place of the human person in our decision making and on how the dignity of work, solidarity, social policy and the common good are today being addressed in new ways.
This discernment begins with a fundamental affirmation: every truly just society is built upon the recognition of the inviolable dignity of the human person. Such dignity precedes any concession by the State and cannot be subordinated to shifting social consensus or the whims of the majority at any given moment (cf. Benedict XVI, Address to the German Federal Parliament, 22 September 2011). It belongs to every human being by the very fact of their existence, and for this reason, it must guide every positive legal system. The Christian faith proclaims it on the basis of Revelation; human reason can recognize it as a requirement inscribed in the truth of man (cf. ibid.). When this conviction remains alive, the law becomes a safeguard for all and a guarantee against the imposition of particular interests and agendas.
On this basis, it falls to me today to speak a calm and firm word to those who bear the grave responsibility of legally ordering social coexistence. This coexistence can be threatened by the throwaway culture, as Pope Francis so often warned (cf. Address to the Plenary Assembly of the Pontifical Academy for Life, 27 September 2021). In this sense, if life ceases to be recognized as a fundamental value, what future can our societies have? Can a community that casts into the shadows the unborn child, the elderly, the sick, those who suffer in silence, or those who depend entirely on the care of others be called fully just? The defense of human life is neither a partisan issue nor a confessional interest: it is a goal of civilization. Every human life must be recognized and safeguarded from conception to its natural end, in every circumstance of its existence. When this certainty is obscured, the most vulnerable are the first victims, and the law loses its deepest meaning: to serve and protect every person. For this reason, the moral greatness of a nation is manifested, above all, in its capacity to accompany, protect and love those lives that are most fragile.
The common good is, in a certain sense, the “social expression of the dignity recognized in every person” (Magnifica Humanitas, 59). It does not consist in the mere sum of particular interests, but rather in “the sum of those conditions of social life which allow social groups and their individual members relatively thorough and ready access to their own fulfillment” (Gaudium et Spes, 26). When the common good ceases to be a shared horizon, public action runs the risk of fragmenting into partial interests, incapable of safeguarding what belongs to all.
In this context, the family — the primary human reality and the natural foundation of the community — takes on particular importance. In the home, generations intertwine and a living memory is passed on, giving inner continuity to society. Where the family is upheld, the spiritual and social stability of nations is also strengthened. The family will always be the first school of humanity, where one learns, before anywhere else, the basic grammar of living together: welcoming life, caring for others, forgiving, serving and belonging.
Educational institutions also play a decisive role in this task. In them, new generations can learn to seek and love the truth, to reflect on the meaning of life and the dignity of every person. For this reason, many parents who wish for their children to learn to relate to others, to think critically, and to acquire solid values place great hope in these institutions, seeing them as valuable allies in their children’s education. This collaboration must always respect the “primary and inalienable right” of parents to “choose the kind of education and formation for their children, in a manner consistent with their moral, cultural and religious convictions” (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 143; cf. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, art. 18.4).
The affirmation of human dignity cannot remain abstract when so many people are forced to leave everything behind in search of peace, security, and a future. The tragic drama of migration also challenges the conscience of nations and the ethical foundation of the international order today. Numerous men, women, and children are forced, by often dramatic circumstances, to leave their communities and leave behind loved ones, histories, and ties. This reality goes beyond any purely demographic or economic analysis: it constitutes an eminently moral and legal issue. Wherever people are discriminated against because of their national, ethnic, religious or linguistic origin, or because of their economic or social status, the universal principle of the equal dignity of all human beings is seriously violated.
The situation of migrants and refugees calls for a response that focuses on people, addresses the root causes that force them to leave, and goes beyond the mere management of migration flows. This gives rise to a twofold demand for social justice: to offer safe and legal pathways, a respectful welcome and real opportunities for integration; and, at the same time, to promote the right to remain in one’s own land, working to ensure that no one has to leave their home due to a lack of peace, security or decent living conditions, including economic inequalities and the effects of the climate crisis (cf. Magnifica Humanitas, 81).
In recent years, increasingly dangerous routes have highlighted the extremely high cost of this reality, so often hidden or ignored. Many people remain prey to traffickers and smugglers who take advantage of their desperation. It is necessary to strengthen prevention, rescue and assistance for victims, especially within the framework of regional and multilateral cooperation.
No nation can face a challenge of this magnitude on its own. Therefore, a coordinated, supportive, and effective response is indispensable, one capable of guaranteeing protection, welcome, and real opportunities for integration to those who migrate. When the institutional response is accessible, just and coordinated, borders cease to be places of abandonment and can become spaces for the responsible protection of human dignity.
Ladies and gentlemen:
The world is undergoing a profound spiritual and cultural crisis, which manifests in multiple forms of violence, polarization and mutual distrust. In this context, peace emerges as a political aspiration and, even more so, as a true moral imperative. It calls for public discourse that respects those who think differently, institutions dedicated to fostering dialogue, a historical memory that seeks truth and reconciliation and a social life capable of sustaining civic friendship and mutual respect amid disagreement.
On the international level, peace demands diplomatic courage, ethical responsibility and a vision for the future grounded in respect for the identity of every people and in the obligation of States to resolve their disputes through the peaceful means offered by international law. Every war constitutes, ultimately, a painful defeat of the capacity to negotiate and also of that common human consciousness that recognizes bonds of justice among nations. Weapons may impose a temporary silence; but they can never build a genuine and lasting peace.
It is therefore a cause for concern that, in various parts of the world — and in Europe as well — rearmament is once again being presented as an almost inevitable response to the fragility of the international situation. True security, however, stems from justice, patient dialogue, respect for international law, and a policy capable of placing the lives of peoples above the interests that profit from war. The development of new technologies and artificial intelligence in the military sphere also demands rigorous ethical oversight, so that decisions regarding life and death are never left to automated systems nor removed from the moral responsibility of the human person (cf. Address at the University of La Sapienza, 14 May 2026).
The international community is called to rediscover the indispensable value of dialogue as a patient path toward just and lasting agreements, founded on respect for treaties, on the transparency of diplomatic action and on the sincere will to prioritize peace over the use of force. From this spring confidence and hope.
As the motto of the European Union, In varietate concordia, reminds us, true unity does not standardize, but rather unites in diversity, making cultures, sensibilities, and traditions an opportunity for mutual enrichment.
Likewise, within societies themselves, it is urgent to build a culture of reciprocity. Political pluralism should not degenerate into the constant disparagement of one’s adversary. In a mature society, even conflict can become a path to peace, when differences are softened by listening and directed toward recognizing the needs, aspirations and capabilities of all.
But peace is not merely a political or institutional reality. It is also the fruit of conscience, where resentment, indifference, and hatred give way to reconciliation. For this reason, it is also established and protected through language. Words can open paths or close them; they can illuminate reality or distort it to the point of making encounter impossible. Those who hold public office therefore have a special obligation to be mindful of their words in order to disarm language (cf. Message for Lent 2026, 13 February 2026). Firmness does not require contempt; disagreement does not entail humiliation.
From this respect for others also arises the duty to safeguard the space where their convictions, their conscience, and their relationship with God mature. Attention to this inner realm allows for a better understanding of a decisive issue for every truly democratic society: freedom of thought, conscience and religion, a fundamental right that protects the most intimate sphere of the person. The freedom upon which the contemporary state is built, if it is authentic, recognizes the religious dimension of the human person, respects it and protects it legally; and it ensures that faith is not a reason for which a person has to forfeit his or her contribution to society.
Without confusing the legal sphere with the moral one, it is also worth recalling that freedom must be understood in its fullness. Being free does not simply mean being free from coercion or having many choices; it means being able to recognize the good and commit to it responsibly. For this reason, every truly free society also requires a proper limitation of public power, so that the freedom of individuals, communities and associations is not unduly restricted (cf. Dignitatis Humanae, 1). From this perspective, the legitimate autonomy of the temporal order must never see itself as hostile to religion. Faith does not seek to impose itself through privileges or coercion; yet neither can it be silenced as if it were irrelevant to public life.
In this context, the sacramental seal of confession holds special importance for the Catholic Church. It is part of the broader sphere of religious freedom, which guarantees believing communities their own space for life, organization and internal discipline (cf. Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, The Helsinki Final Act, 1 August 1975, Principle VII). To protect it legally, as is done in a similar way in some professions, means preserving a sacred space of inner freedom, where the believer can open his or her soul to God without fear of external pressures, as international norms also recognize (cf. International Criminal Court, Rules of Procedure and Evidence, Rule 73.3).
Ladies and Gentlemen:
Allow me to pause for a moment to reflect on some of the images that adorn this Chamber. In this Chamber, natural light streams in through the skylight that crowns the room. That light coming from above may remind us that politics, too, must acknowledge a force that precedes and transcends it.
Likewise, the paintings on the upper part of the main wall, depicting the reception of the Gospel and the Decalogue, remind us of something essential. Without confusing the political order with the religious one, these symbols invite us to recognize that modern freedom has also been shaped by a long education of conscience, deeply marked by the Christian tradition. In that inner school, people learned that law must serve the good, that justice sets limits on force, that power requires legitimacy, that the poor belong fully to the community, that the foreigner must be welcomed in accordance with his dignity, and that human life can never be treated as a commodity.
A law does not attain its true greatness merely by having been formally enacted; it attains it when, in addition to being valid in form, it can stand before the dignity of the person and pass that test without shame.
I invite you, then, to lift your gaze to the world around you, not to turn away from reality, but to remember that every decision by public authorities affects real people, especially those who have less power to make their voices heard. The expanse of one’s vision consists precisely in looking more deeply at what is at stake in every public decision. This is why, alongside technical solutions and legal reforms, a moral renewal is also needed.
Spain has much to offer on this journey. It possesses a language that bridges continents; a cultural, legal and spiritual tradition that has successfully fostered a dialogue between faith and reason, law and conscience, unity and plurality. This historical experience also reminds us of the value of harmony and of the patient effort to build a peaceful and just society.
May this noble nation never lose sight of its roots nor the courage to look to the future. May Spain continue to be a land of encounter, of culture, of solidarity and of hope. And may its public life always know how to unite the firmness of convictions with the nobility of dialogue and the greatness of service.
May God grant peace to all nations of the earth, harmony to families and serenity to consciences. And may days of prosperity, justice and lasting peace descend upon the Kingdom of Spain, marked by the apostolic footprint of Saint James and by the maternal presence of Our Lady of the Pillar. Thank you very much.
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