12 years after Jesuit priest's disappearance in Syria, friends and family members still want answers

For those who knew Dall'Oglio, his disappearance was the tragic continuation of a life defined by radical devotion to peace and interfaith dialogue.

For three decades starting in 1982, the priest lived in Syria and served at the ancient monastery of Mar Musa, which he restored by hand and transformed into a center for dialogue between Christians and Muslims. 

Also known as the Monastery of St. Moses the Abyssinian, it's thought to date to the sixth century or earlier. It is 50 miles north of the Syrian capital, Damascus. 

The Assad regime expelled Dall'Oglio in 2012 for supporting victims of military crackdowns. Yet he continued to advocate for reconciliation among Syria's religious and ethnic communities, even as the civil war made such efforts increasingly dangerous. 

For Francesca Dall'Oglio, an older sister who lives in Rome, the loss is not just of a priest or public figure, but of a brother who had always stood apart, even as a child.

"Paolo always needed to be recognized by our family," Francesca said in an interview with NCR. "He was a very sensitive person, emotionally as well, but also capable of profound reflection even as a child." 

The fourth of nine siblings, Dall'Oglio grew up with an instinct toward dialogue, speaking with shepherds and workers, connecting deeply with people from all walks of life. 

"When he talked to someone, he forgot everything else," Francesca said. "He had a very strong voice and always sang with his friends."

When Francesca visited her brother at the ancient monastery of Mar Musa in Syria in 2008, she saw a man at peace. "Paolo found his path there; he was happy," she said. 

But behind the quiet strength of Mar Musa, the ground was shifting.

In the years leading up to his disappearance, Dall'Oglio became an outspoken supporter of the 2011 Syrian revolution against the Assad regime. His writings for the Italian Huffington Post and emails to family bore a tone of urgency and mission.

"My dear Chicca, I am sorry that you too have to bear the weight of my mission," he wrote in his last email to Francesca in July 2013.

"I was moved," she said. "It is a burden we bear, but I feel it with love, as something beautiful."

Tension also mounted within the family.

After Dall'Oglio vanished — reportedly taken by ISIS — his siblings were split on how to respond publicly. "Different views and positions have emerged, causing great division and suffering," Francesca said. "There was a part of us that wanted to spread Paolo's message, while others preferred not to talk about it."

The Dall'Oglio family met Pope Francis twice. 

"We gave him Paolo's book, In Love with Islam, Believer in Jesus," Francesca said. The pope promised to read it on his flight to Abu Dhabi in February 2019, where he signed a historic declaration on interfaith dialogue. He would then go on to make two public appeals for Dall'Oglio's release.

But the years since have been punctuated by rumors, false leads and speculation — none confirmed. "Paolo had to be silenced," Francesca believes. "The news of Paolo's death would have meant the spread of his message. He would have continued to be inconvenient for those in power."

Dall'Oglio's political voice rose with the 2011 Arab Spring.

Journalist and author Riccardo Cristiano met Dall'Oglio shortly after the priest was expelled from Syria in 2012. He had sent Dall'Oglio a manuscript about the Lebanese Arab Spring.

"If you want to help get me expelled from Syria, you've chosen the right path," Dall'Oglio immediately responded to him via email. "I can't write anything about it, but I'm very interested in what you've written."

The two men quickly became close.

"He became a life companion for me. He was a radically evangelical person, and evangelically rooted in reality," Cristiano said.

"Paolo interpreted the Arab Spring as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” said Cristiano, who founded the association Journalists Friends of Father Paolo Dall'Oglio after the priest disappeared.

Their relationship endured through Dall'Oglio's 2013 clandestine return to Iraq, then to Turkey, and finally to Raqqa, Syria. They last spoke by phone before his departure. Dall'Oglio was calm but urgent.

"It's clear that everything is about to blow up here," the priest said, as recalled by Cristiano. "The Kurds will be involved in the war with ISIS and Syria, and the whole region will be involved."

On July 29, 2013, Dall'Oglio entered ISIS-controlled Raqqa. He had not gone, Cristiano said, by accident or naivete.

"Paolo said in every possible venue in Raqqa that he would not leave until he was received by the leaders of ISIS," Cristiano said. "He was a leader of the people, hostile and an enemy of ISIS. He defended the Kurds from ISIS massacres."

Cristiano said he thinks Dall'Oglio went to negotiate a release — likely of Kurdish hostages — on behalf of communities who trusted him.

The Reuters report about the priest's disappearance said that on the evening of July 29 ISIS was "angered" by Dall'Oglio's criticism of their massacre of the Kurds. Since then, no one has claimed responsibility for the disappearance 

"By not letting the bearer of this message return, they rejected it," Cristiano said. "They knew that Paolo was much loved by both the Islamic and Christian population, whom they had to conquer and keep under their control."

In the years since Dall'Oglio's disappearance, rumors have surged. "From 2013 to the present, there has been a succession of fake news or anonymous messages," Cristiano said. "I believe that these are manipulations compatible with the Syrian environment.”

Jesuit Fr. Federico Lombardi, director of the Holy See Press Office from 2006 to 2016, admired Dall'Oglio's challenging and original outreach to Islam, which was not always understood by local Christian communities.

"Paolo's quest is for religious dialogue rather than interreligious dialogue, in which we trace back together to the origin of our relationship with God," he said.

Lombardi recalled that Pope Francis celebrated Mass at the Chiesa del Gesù in Rome two days after the priest's disappearance. The following year, members of the Mar Musa community met Francis, Lombardi said, and gave Francis two small icons, one of which he kept in his private residence at Casa Santa Marta.

Jesuit Fr. Arturo Sosa, the global head of the congregation, in a letter to Jesuits of the Near East and Maghreb Province, said he had hoped the end of the war would bring the truth about the missing priest.

"Sadly, that hope remains unfulfilled," Sosa wrote. "Like all true prophets, he was challenging, even unsettling, persecuted — and yet, he stood tall, whatever the cost, unwavering in his commitment to justice and truth.”

When reports in June described a possible mass grave in Raqqa that might have contained Dall'Oglio's body, Francesca contacted the Syria Justice and Accountability Centre. They told her they had not gone to dig in that area yet, discounting the reports.

And while some Western institutions tried to help — notably the U.S. Department of State offered a $5 million reward for information — Cristiano said he remains skeptical.

Francesca said she doesn't want Dall'Oglio's case to be closed. "The real, documented truth must come out," she said.

"I am ready for the truth."