Indiana Attorney General Todd Rokita Sparks Controversy With Mission to Teach University of Notre Dame How to Be Catholic
Indiana Attorney General Todd Rokita has never shied away from political controversy. But his latest target—a revered institution with a long and proud Catholic heritage—has ignited a firestorm that cuts to the core of faith, identity, and academic freedom. Rokita, in a series of public statements and official communications, has taken aim at the University of Notre Dame, alleging that the school is falling short of its Catholic mission and moral obligations. Now, in what critics are calling a politically motivated stunt and supporters hail as a defense of orthodoxy, Rokita wants to “teach Notre Dame how to be Catholic.”
Rokita’s remarks first emerged in late April 2025 during an appearance on a conservative talk radio program, where he questioned Notre Dame’s commitment to Catholic teachings on abortion, marriage, and gender identity. “It’s tragic,” he said. “Notre Dame is squandering its Catholic identity in favor of woke politics. We need to hold them accountable and help them find their way back.” He later followed those comments with a formal letter to university leadership, demanding what he called “clarity and fidelity to Catholic doctrine” in policy decisions, faculty hiring, student life, and public statements.
At the heart of Rokita’s criticism are a series of decisions by Notre Dame in recent years that have been seen by some conservatives as drifting from traditional church positions. Among them: the university’s coverage of contraceptives in health plans, public statements supporting LGBTQ students, and its invitation of political figures with pro-choice records to speak on campus. While Notre Dame has long walked a tightrope between its religious identity and its reputation as a world-class research university, Rokita’s intervention has escalated the debate in an unprecedented way.
For many in the Notre Dame community, the remarks feel like an assault not only on the school’s autonomy but also on the nuanced and often personal experience of living a Catholic faith in the modern world. “Todd Rokita doesn’t get to decide what makes Notre Dame Catholic,” said Father James Martin, a visiting theologian and author. “The university’s commitment to truth, inquiry, compassion, and service is deeply rooted in its Catholic heritage. To suggest otherwise is not only inaccurate—it’s offensive.”
Others, particularly among more traditionalist Catholics, have expressed sympathy with Rokita’s concerns. Patrick Reilly, president of the Cardinal Newman Society, which monitors Catholic colleges and universities, praised the attorney general’s statements. “Too many Catholic institutions have lost their way,” Reilly said. “Notre Dame should be a beacon of orthodoxy, not compromise. Attorney General Rokita is right to call attention to this.”
Rokita’s critics see his campaign as part of a broader political play. A staunch conservative with a history of controversial stances on voting rights, pandemic restrictions, and education, he is widely believed to be considering a run for higher office. Going after Notre Dame, they argue, is a way to rally religious conservatives, signal his ideological purity, and boost his national profile. “It’s political theater,” said Dr. Lisa Connors, a political science professor at Indiana University. “Rokita is trying to weaponize faith for political gain. He knows Notre Dame is a symbol—and symbols are powerful in politics.”
The university itself has responded with restraint. In a brief but pointed statement, Notre Dame affirmed its commitment to Catholic identity while rejecting outside interference. “Our mission as a Catholic university is shaped by a long tradition of inquiry, faith, and engagement with the world,” the statement read. “We value dialogue and reflection, not coercion or politicization.”
Yet the episode has stirred deep questions for students, faculty, alumni, and the wider Catholic community. What does it mean to be a Catholic university in the 21st century? Is fidelity to doctrine measured in dogma or in deeds? How should institutions balance intellectual freedom with religious tradition? And who gets to make that call—bishops, politicians, or the communities themselves?
For Notre Dame junior Ana Morales, the controversy feels like an invasion. “I came to Notre Dame because it’s a place where I can grow in my faith and my mind,” she said. “To see politicians try to control that, to reduce it to a checklist of beliefs—it’s disheartening.” Morales, who is active in campus ministry and volunteers at a local women’s shelter, says her Catholicism is alive and growing. “It’s not about slogans or purity tests. It’s about love and truth. That’s what I learned here.”
Notre Dame is no stranger to public controversy. Over the years, it has faced backlash from various corners of the political and religious spectrum—from protesting the Vietnam War to inviting President Barack Obama to speak at commencement in 2009, which drew ire from the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. Through it all, the university has tried to navigate its dual identity as both an academic institution and a faith community. Sometimes that balance has brought praise; other times, condemnation. But rarely has it brought such a direct challenge from a state official.
Some legal experts are also questioning whether Rokita’s statements cross a constitutional line. “When a state attorney general threatens a private university over its religious expression, it raises serious First Amendment concerns,” said Professor Heather Wray, who teaches constitutional law at Purdue University. “It’s not the government’s role to dictate theology or impose orthodoxy.”
Indeed, the United States has long upheld a principle of religious freedom that allows faith-based institutions wide latitude in interpreting and practicing their beliefs. While the Catholic Church does maintain formal guidelines for schools wishing to be recognized as Catholic, enforcement lies with ecclesiastical authorities, not state governments. In Notre Dame’s case, the local bishop, not the attorney general, is the church’s representative with standing to address such matters.
Rokita, however, has doubled down, issuing follow-up remarks and calling for “increased oversight” of universities that claim a religious identity. He has hinted at future legislative proposals aimed at tying state funding and tax exemptions to adherence to “core religious principles”—a move that would likely face fierce legal challenges. “If Notre Dame wants to call itself Catholic, it needs to act like it,” he said in a recent speech. “Indiana taxpayers deserve better.”
But for many observers, the controversy isn’t just about Notre Dame. It’s about the future of American Catholicism—and who gets to define it. As younger generations of Catholics increasingly embrace social justice causes, question institutional hierarchies, and seek a more inclusive vision of faith, the fault lines are becoming more pronounced. Institutions like Notre Dame sit at the crossroads of this transformation, both shaped by and shaping the future of the Church.
“This is bigger than one university or one politician,” said Dr. Mary Anne Casey, a historian of American religion. “It’s about the soul of Catholicism in this country. Are we going to allow space for complexity, for conscience, for intellectual and moral growth? Or are we going to let ideology—and political ambition—close the door on that?”
The answer, at least for now, remains uncertain. As Rokita presses forward and Notre Dame holds its ground, the clash has revealed both the tensions and the enduring relevance of faith in public life. What began as a few sharp words on talk radio has blossomed into a national debate about who speaks for the Church, who defines its institutions, and how to live out ancient truths in a rapidly changing world.
For the Notre Dame community, the road ahead will not be easy. Navigating criticism from the right while staying true to its mission requires courage, humility, and discernment. But perhaps more than anything, it requires the very thing Rokita claims to be championing: a deep and abiding faith—not in slogans or state power, but in the pursuit of truth, justice, and a God who defies the bounds of politics.
In the words of Notre Dame’s founder, Father Edward Sorin, “This college will be one of the most powerful means for doing good in this country.” That legacy continues—but not without struggle. As one chapter closes and another begins, the question remains: who will define what it means to be Catholic at Notre Dame? The answer, it seems, won’t come from politicians, but from the lived faith of its people.
