In Syria, the hour of liberation has come. As always, the future is not guaranteed. But when the Assad regime – a dynasty that tormented Syria and its citizens for fifty-four years – fell, many remembered Father Paolo Dall’Oglio. Many of them are Muslims, aware of the fact that the man whose fate they inquired about is a Catholic, a Jesuit, an Italian. They do not know how he disappeared thirteen years ago, but they know he vanished into the darkness of their past due to his commitment to solidarity and Christian love toward them. They went as far as the maximum-security – or maximum-horror – prison to show his photograph, or to Damascus, expressing love and solidarity, hoping he might reappear from the depths of humanity’s destruction. They are asking for the truth, even from the new authorities. We should do the same and remember his books and vision, because his story – expelled by Assad and kidnapped by ISIS eleven years ago – is of great value today for understanding where we are and where we might be heading tomorrow.
The book from which I draw some inspiration is titled Collera e Luce (“Anger and Light”), published by EMI shortly after he disappeared in 2013. It is a book that, rereading it today, we realize was already speaking to us about the future – about the doubts, hopes, and fears each of us carries in our hearts in these moments. But the regime ruled for so long that the cult of personality emerges as the common thread linking the Assads to the leader of the insurgents, and this is not causing enough concern. The Ba’athist horror could not have produced a generation of peace-loving flower children – it has engendered hatred, a thirst for revenge, and despair. Suffice to think of those uprooted from their homes and driven beyond the national borders, or thrown into the countryside of Idlib or the far south, for no reason other than their community identity – and with nothing! Six million people, desolate like the land they inhabit. This is the real issue: everything this ferocity has caused and all the anger these victims may unleash on others. Assad ruled by breeding conflict between communities, persecuting the majority one. This fueled a religious ideology – called terrorism – that he framed as follows:
“I believe it is necessary to say, both within the Muslim world and beyond, that suicide attacks are a spiritual disease far worse than the possible loss of territories. In fact, symbolically – and sometimes ritually— they represent an absolutization of hatred extending into the afterlife, into God’s realm, beyond death, creating horrifying paradises. By choosing such strategies, the radical subjugation of the individual’s value to mythical values and collective goals is symbolized. The theological value of earthly life is lost, replaced by fantastic paradises strangely comparable to the consumerist dreams shown on television to the world’s poor. Death and suffering are trivialized, while sacrifice is grotesquely magnified. […] I wish to state that the most effective means of fighting jihadism are solidarity through transparency and a dialogue on the ground, to help our children emerge from the abyss of violence.”
Then there is the leader’s despotism, which in my view is an underestimated emergency, seeing how deeply this style has pervaded Syrian life.
But we cannot view a disaster from only one side of the coin. There are many examples; I find one in Dall’Oglio’s book: “At Christmas in 1981, in the Jesuits’ living room, a member of State Security earned the approval of all the guests present by recounting how he had silenced some scoundrels who had slandered the patriarch. He made them realize they were wrong by threatening them violently. And thus, the theorem was proven: ‘You see, our regime is your protection.’ I did not intervene. But that was when I became aware of the Church’s complicity with power – a power based on widespread repression, built on torture. I made sure I would never forget it.” This honesty becomes invaluable today, opening our eyes now that the wheel might turn the other way. Revenge, retaliation – these may happen. But identifying an entire community with such acts, whether they occur or might occur, would be the gravest mistake – the very one Assad relied on to create clashes and rule by blackmailing everyone, as Dall’Oglio had the courage to explain.
On the back cover of the book, it says:
“My Christian conscience is clearly torn. On one side, there is a radical desire to see the revolution against this regime through to the end. But on the other, such a revolution seems likely to provoke a radical Islamization of Syria and create conditions for the definitive marginalization of the Christian community. I confess that deep inside me, I also feel a desire for revenge against those who have caused us so much harm…” It is no coincidence that he goes on to say that the regime accused him of working for al-Qaeda. Isn’t the entire tragedy of today encapsulated in this? Isn’t he describing exactly what is happening now? But there is more in these same lines. He concludes the paragraph saying: “By all evidence, if this regime were ever to regain control of the country, Syria would become a black hole.” And that is precisely what did happen: arms traffickers, drug dealers, human traffickers, rogue foreign intelligence agents, armies, militias, terrorists… This is the Syria Assad has left behind.
But there was – and still is – another Syria, seen in the young people who, once freed from fear, took to the streets to shout for freedom. They told him: “When you manage to question the idea that the president is a god – something they’ve taught you since kindergarten – when you succeed in separating truth from authority, distinguishing objectivity from power, and demand dignity in the streets, you feel you are living a moment of freedom, truth, and authenticity. And the most incredible thing is that they arrest you for this, they torture you – but the next day, you go back to the streets. Because they can no longer strike at the core of your rediscovered dignity as a free person. Even if they beat you, even if they force you to repeat that Bashar is your god. Torture cannot undermine that regained dignity.” We should learn to respect these people, these young people who defied horror for half a century, and convince them that the strength of their dignity is what we ask of them if the tide should turn – not to see them as accomplices in any future oppression. He already understood this back then, as he concluded the chapter with: “Democracy stands only if we commit to it and invest in it.” What I sense today is a clear distrust: the young people who once acted for dignity can do it again – if needed – if we trust them and don’t shut the door in their faces a priori. But will that be enough? It’s not guaranteed, of course, but it’s worth trying, while also working on other fronts.
“Collectively, we Christians sided with a fascist state, and with it, we will lose everything. It’s too late; the disaster is already here. […] However, […] Syria’s social fabric will be restored in its plurality. […] I still hope that the remaining Christian communities can flourish in a future Islamic Syria capable of embracing harmonious, inclusive pluralism.” These lines have moved and shaken me for years. Though rarely acknowledged, Assad’s regime and its wicked policies have already reduced Christian communities to a marginal presence. That is the reality. This horror show produced that outcome. But Dall’Oglio sees that optimism must remain a guiding principle. How? As his friend Jacques Murad, the Bishop of Homs, did when he spoke of Liberation yesterday as rebels entered the city. That is not only the truth but also the only partial antidote to sectarianism, revenge, and the sectarian backlash visible on many faces – not just that of the jihadist leader al-Jolani, who has already trimmed his beard. Just for the sake of appearances? Of course! But if there is a perceived need to appear different, perhaps, with intelligent action, real change can follow. No one is asking to believe in him – that’s impossible – but in the need to start a process.
We cannot revisit the entire book and all the visionary insights that open up a world not only of deep Christianity but also of hope and foresight. The process Dall’Oglio wanted to start was this: Syria can be saved only if it becomes federal. Once, on the phone, Dall’Oglio told me he was willing to risk everything for this idea. In my small way, I feel compelled to say that this courageous insight, despite potential misunderstandings, is a distilled expression of cultural integration and love for a better – and possible – future, without ideology.
Syria is a house made up of a thousand dwellings – a mosaic torn asunder by Assad’s deliberate cruelty, who could only align it with his cult of personality by pitting one piece against another. This mosaic can be restored through federalism. This is not about dividing Syria into Swiss-style cantons, as proposed by identity-driven factions – that’s the crucial point, the mystery. The federalism they may choose – but which he advocated – could acknowledge all the points of view and the communities. In such a federal system, every community would feel secure, able to choose its local government while contributing to the national government shared by all. This federalism would resist colonial or totalitarian foreign domination while shaping its own future, preserving its history, fears, and diversity. And at the central level, all these diversities would find value, meet, recognize one another, and unite – building Syria bottom up, not top down.
I write this simple and partial account of a forgotten vision as a duty I believe we all share, although I was surprised not to find it expressed elsewhere. These past few days have marked a liberation – the redemption of Father Paolo – and with him, countless Syrian victims expelled by Assad and deported by ISIS.
This article was originally published in Italian on Settimana News, on December 8, 2024.
Riccardo Cristiano, a journalist since the 1980s, has focused his career on the Middle East, interreligious dialogue, and the Vatican. He has authored several books, including Una mano da sola non applaude (“A single hand cannot clap”) on the kidnapping of Father Dall’Oglio in Syria in 2013. He also serves as president of the “Journalists Friends of Father Dall’Oglio” association, dedicated to the Jesuit priest.
Cover photo: An anti-government fighter steps on a torn up portrait of Syria’s President Bashar al-Assad in Hama, a day after rebels captured the central-west city, on December 6, 2024. (Photo by Mohammed AL-RIFAI / AFP)
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