“War eats you up inside. You see it in the eyes of young children who no longer have any joy in their hearts, only terror and tears.”
This was Pope Francis’s reflection on war, a topic discussed in My Life Through History, a memoir compiled by Fabio Marchese Ragona from a series of interviews with the pontiff.
The book, 149 pages in the English edition translated from Italian by Aubrey Botsford, offers profound reflections on what war means to individuals and society.
It explores faith as a journey, the role of humility in happiness, and musings on sports, poetry, and cinema, particularly Italian World War II films such as Rome, Open City, and The Children Are Watching Us.
This mix of reflection and memory makes the book a revealing portrait of a man who revolutionized the papacy, softening the grandeur of the Vatican in favour of a more compassionate image.
Through the text, we trace the roots of Pope Francis’s positions on the plight of Palestinians, undocumented migrants, and others — not just in his faith but in his lived experiences.
Born in 1936, Jorge Mario Bergoglio was the son of Italian immigrants to Argentina. His paternal grandfather, Giovanni, who had served in World War I, had told him horrific stories about it.
Giovanni, his wife Rosa, and their son Mario arrived in Buenos Aires in February 1929, initially staying at the Hotel de Inmigrantes, a migrant reception centre.
“Migrants carry an enormous baggage of experience and stories,” Pope Francis said. “Think how many Italians left for South America or the US before and after the war. Even they, perhaps, were seen as the 'bad' or 'dangerous' ones in the countries where they landed.”
As a child, Jorge understood the consequences of war.
Letters from family in Europe and the stories of migrants brought it home.
“I heard the story of the war from many migrants who fled Nazi-occupied countries,” he recalled.
For Pope Francis, the story of migration ties directly to the Book of Genesis, where God reminds humanity to care for each other, not hate or kill.
Alongside personal accounts of war and migration, Francis recalls how his parents took him to the cinema to watch World War II films.
“I watched them all,” he said.
He devotes an entire chapter to the Holocaust, titled The Extermination of the Jews. Francis recounts a 1941 dinner when his mother, Regina, burst into tears, calling someone “a monster.”
That night, she played music to shield her children from the horrors her mother-in-law had heard about from an exiled Italian Jew.
But Jorge learned of the “monster” that was Hitler and the thousands of Jews being killed in Europe’s concentration camps.
Later, in 2016, Pope Francis visited Auschwitz and Birkenau. He made no speech, saying words would be “superfluous in the face of that appalling tragedy.”
He also speaks of the horrors beyond the Jews, noting the suffering of those who helped them.
He later met Lidia Maksymowicz, a survivor of Nazi deportation and tattooing for aiding Jews.
After hearing her testimony, Francis said, “Thank you,” before kissing the number tattooed on her arm.
This chapter reveals Francis’s extraordinary ability to see others as human beings first, not as members of one faith or another.
It also illustrates his commitment during his 17 years as pope, beginning in 2013 after Benedict XVI’s retirement.
For Francis, the plight of Jews and their helpers during World War II connects to his broader concern for all who suffer hatred, including Black Americans facing discrimination in the early 2000s.
“Racism is a disease, a virus,” he said. “Nonviolent protestors are collective good Samaritans, defending human dignity.”
He also discusses the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
“I’ve heard dramatic stories from people who lived through Hiroshima’s destruction,” he said, primarily through Father Pedro Arrupe, a Hiroshima missionary who survived the bomb and later visited Argentina.
Francis rejects all wars—including the Cold War—and forms of discrimination, whether based on race, sexual identity, or political ideology.
He condemns the US executions during McCarthyism as deeply disturbing.
In the Cold War chapter, Francis writes about a lifelong conviction not to judge others.
He recalls Esther, a communist and atheist chemistry teacher who fled the US for Argentina.
“She never attacked faith, even in private conversations with friends,” he remembered.
The joy Francis felt at the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 signalled his hope for Europe’s peace after decades of turmoil.
His reflections in this chapter—and on the 9/11 attacks—are as much from Jorge as from Pope Francis.
The boundary between the man and the priest vanishes. This fusion of Jorge and Pope Francis runs throughout the memoir.
He experienced poverty firsthand and often spoke about the poor during his papacy. He also loved sports and prayer, never losing his passion for football, especially as an Argentine of Italian descent.
Francis tells of his call to the priesthood. While walking to meet friends one day, he passed the Basilica of San José de Flores, decided to pray, and felt a calling to a new path.
“A picnic with friends? Forget it! I was placing myself entirely in God’s hands,” he recalled.
Knowing his parents might not be ready to hear his decision, he told them he was studying medicine.
When his mother found theology books, he said he studied “the medicine of the soul.”
Soon after, he joined the seminary and then the Jesuit order.
He recounts lapses along the way, but peace came with ordination on 13 December 1969—just four days before his 33rd birthday.
The 1960s in Argentina were turbulent. As Father Bergoglio, he faced many challenges, particularly in protecting those who worked with the poor and were seen as subversive by the military regime.
His faith was tested during these times. One tense episode involved helping a young man escape Argentina by dressing him as a priest, risking his own life.
Throughout the memoir, Francis reflects on memory to express ideas.
He recalls watching the moon landing in 1969 with awe, saying, “Progress is fundamental—but it must harmonize with humanity’s ability to manage it.”
He also speaks of poverty, notably in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, saying, “Both capitalism and Marxism failed to create just systems that worked on their own.”
In every crisis—whether the 9/11 attacks, the pandemic, the war in Ukraine, or the ongoing Middle East conflicts—Francis remains preoccupied with the Church’s role in reaching out.
His vision of the Church is consistent: a place of faith and solace for all.
In chapters detailing his path to the Vatican, he stresses the need to extend care beyond the boundaries of faith, race, or gender.
“In all cases,” he writes, “we must always face the horizon with confidence.”
Again and again, he returns to his core message: love, pray, forgive.
My Life Through History captures the essence of Pope Francis’s papacy—the convictions that earned him love and respect far beyond the Catholic world.
It’s the story of a man who deeply believed in people and their capacity for good.
My Life Through History was first published in 2024 in Italian as Life: La mia storia nella Storia by Papa Francesco Bergoglio with Fabio Marchese Ragona.
Pope Francis passed away on 21 April 2025.
His funeral was held on 26 April.
Short link: