Silsilah Dialogue Movement is the fruit of a dream and hard work of its founder, PIME missionary, Father Sebastiano D’Ambra. Reality was a strong detonator. Arriving in the Philippines in 1977, he was shocked by some statistics saying that, in the few years of the Mindanao conflict, more than 100,000 people had been killed; houses, mosques and churches had been burned or destroyed and more than half-a-million had been forced to leave their homes.
After learning Cebuano in Zamboanga City, he was assigned to Siocon, Zamboanga del Norte, a few hours away by boat. He went to work in a forest area. He was supposed to take care of the mission in a traditional way. But soon, he realized that he had to give more attention to the indigenous (Lumad) and to Muslims, seeing how violence was taking its toll on them.
His romantic ideas about interreligious dialogue, nurtured while studying Theology during the Vatican II, vanished realizing the depth of the Muslim-Christians prejudices: “With sadness, I learned soon enough what the Muslims thought about the Christians and vice-versa. I heard among Christian groups who used to say: ‘Only a dead Moro is a good Moro.’ On the other hand, the expression that circulated among the Muslims was: ‘A Muslim who kills a Christian, goes to heaven on a white horse.’”
In addition to these negative feelings running among the people, he observed heavy militarization and the many abuses committed by the military under martial law. “I realized,” he admits, “that the situation of Muslim-Christian relations challenged me to give my personal response. At that time, I was 35 years old, and I started to give all my energy, enthusiasm and creativity to find all the opportunities to meet Muslim leaders and simple Muslims in their own places.”
RADICAL CHOICES
With the agreement of his colleagues, he decided to leave his pastoral work to go and live in a Muslim community. He heard criticism from some Christians such as: “Why are you going to Muslims? You are a priest for Christians!” But he felt like “making radical choices,” and “being a bridge between the two communities.”
In the village, he became a friend of a quite important Muslim leader who was also the landowner. He became part of the community and shared with them a simple life. They helped him to build a tiny house near the sea.
He spent only 400 pesos on it. His toilet was the forest. For the food, he used to be a guest of a Muslim family. “It was in that stage that I felt a special call to dialogue,” he reveals.
Looking back, he muses: “It was a kind of breakthrough in my missionary life. I had a deep spiritual experience. I had a lot of time to pray and to reflect. There, I deepened the concept of dialogue. A concept that we now present in Silsilah as an inspiration, that dialogue starts from God and brings people back to God. That experience changed my life and gave me the courage to take a lot of risks, and later, to start the Silsilah Dialogue Movement.”
He was accused by the military of helping the Muslims, misunderstood by the Christians because they could not accept to see “their“ priest dedicating his time to live in dialogue with Muslims and suspected by Muslims who could not believe that a Christian – a priest and a foreigner, as he was – could be sincere in his commitment to dialogue with them. But, in spite of these and other difficulties, the majority of Muslims and Christians looked at him with respect, and this brought him to a new and unpredictable stage of his life.
MEDIATOR FOR MNLF
He was taking care of a Catholic community made up of 10 families. Their chapel of San Vicente, in a place called Santa Maria – a strategic place where the Spaniards had built a kind of fort and historically where the Moro armed struggle had started – had been burnt by rebels seven years before. Under Fr. Sebastiano’s guidance, the community built a new chapel, daring the open hostility of the Protestants of the area. The day of the inauguration on August 15, Feast of the Assumption, he told them: “This is the place where the revolution started. We hope that, in this place, a tide of peace will start.”
For a strange coincidence, the evening before, some Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) commanders had asked him to be their negotiator to avail themselves of the amnesty offered by the government. He had no experience of mediation, but he accepted the challenge and approached secretively Muslim friends who could provide a pump boat for him to reach the agreed meeting place.
After the fiesta, he disappeared in a very discrete way to go and meet the rebels. “They were waiting hiding with some of their families. When I appeared, they pointed their guns at me. I told them: ‘I am the priest you asked for.’ ‘Ah, yes, yes, Father. We have to leave immediately, because the soldiers are near by.’” The military were about to pound on them. In fact, after coming back, the soldiers were upset with him. A colonel told him: “Father, we were about to attack when you arrived. It is a miracle you are safe. I had to stop the operation.”
His mediation role for MNLF lasted for almost two years. It was an adventure – often risking his life – that brought him to the forest, visiting and living with the MNLF rebels in some occasions and approaching the political and military leaders in Zamboanga. The stories of those days are abundant: “I can talk for one week about the adventures of the forest, meetings with rebels and the military, agreements and disappointments…”
The military were happy that somebody was mediating. It was a good opportunity for them to be promoted. But not always did they stay by their word and they were treacherous. Father Sebastiano confesses that he had to use all his wisdom and creativity to dribble them: “On different occasions, I was threatened by the military. But I tried to be wiser than them. I was making plans with MNLF how to move or not to move in order not to be tracked down.”
NARROW ESCAPE
Once, he had a very narrow escape. He was waiting in a certain place for some rebels who had agreed to depose the arms and surrender. A group of 60 had arrived and others were supposed to arrive. They had been waiting for one week without food, surviving on coconuts, some fish killed by bombs thrown into the sea and sleeping under some coconut leaves.
There was an agreement with the military that the following day they would send helicopters for the final negotiating act. In spite of that, they were surrounded by the Army under a notorious commander. The rebels told him to try to escape because they were in danger. But he answered: “I have been here with you. I will stay with you.” The rebel commander was touched and said: “OK, Father, you may stay. We will protect you. If they attack us, you’ll be the last one to die.” After, he gave some instructions how to position and move in case of engagement.
Fr. Sebastiano describes how the adventure went on: “That afternoon we went up the mountains. We reached a place where we stopped. And the military passed at a distance of 10 minutes and didn’t see us. They attacked the place where we had been before. It rained the whole night. I say that it was my longest shower, it lasted 15 hours. The following day we were able to reach the town. The military were surprised we had survived, because they had planned to kill us all.”
Practically it was the official surrender. Under the amnesty, they were disarmed, put in custody and given some livelihood. Hundreds of MNLF rebels and their families have been reunited and helped, and a certain peace was achieved in the area.
TARGETED BY THE MILITARY
From that moment, the military were trying to kill him. Hence, he became a victim of a military ambush a few weeks later. A stranger was seen rounding Siocon. Fr. Sebastiano came to know that he was a professional killer from Davao who was out to get rid of him. One night, they created a skirmish atmosphere to make Fr. Sebastiano leave the mission, as he used to do in those circumstances. But that night he didn’t feel like going. His instinct was protecting him, as he explains: “Many times, I saved myself because of a natural inkling of what to do or not do in a particular circumstance.” But that time, his colleague, Fr. Salvatore Carzedda, was with him in the convent and pushed him to go.
They took the motorcycle. Fr. Sebastiano was riding; Fr. Salvatore was on the back. They reached the Canal. Some friends, listening to the roar of the motorcycle, came out to meet them. It was the place where the trap was set. While they were talking, they shot at him. The bullet passed somewhere between his arms and his body. One of his staff for the Subanon (a tribal group), who was on his right side, dropped. He pretended to be hit and told Fr. Salvatore to crawl to the next house. Then he escaped.
If there was still doubt about the attempted murder, the end was evident, as he remembers: “The soldiers went immediately to the parish convent to announce that I had been hit and they should go to the hospital to give me the last sacrament because I was dying. Meanwhile, we brought the boy to hospital where he died after two hours. When the soldiers arrived, they were surprised to see me alive.”
After the incident, his superiors, worried for his safety, asked him to withdraw for some time: “I considered that event as my first exile.” He stayed in Italy for two years (1981-1983). It was during that time that he had the chance to study at the Pontifical Institute for Islamic and Arabic Studies (P.I.S.A.I.) in Rome and to move around Islamic countries for exposure. He had time to reflect on his mission and nurtured the desire to share his experience with Muslim and Christian friends. Thus, the idea of Silsilah came to birth.
He reveals how the conceptualization of the name Silsilah happened: “I became interested in Islamic studies and I discovered the great spiritual experience of the Sufis (Muslim mystics). They use ‘Silsilah,’ an Arabic word which means ‘chain,’ to express the chain of unity between them and Allah. Moved by this reflection, I said to myself: ‘even Christians and people of other religions can rediscover the ‘Silsilah’ that links them to God.’ In God, we can rediscover that together we – Muslims, Christians and people of other faiths – can form a ‘chain’ to reach out to all peoples and rediscover the deeper meaning of the universal chain, that is, the human family.”
THE DREAM COMES TRUE
Near the end of 1983, his PIME colleagues in the Philippines elected him regional superior in absentia. For him, it was the chance to come back. He decided to have their regional house in Zamboanga City, because the majority of their group was in Mindanao. He started sharing his life with the poor of Lower Calarian and making contacts to see what he could do to make his dream come true.
On May 9, 1984 – the missionary’s birthday and the day of the inauguration of the new little PIME house – Fr. Sebastiano, with a group of Muslim and Christian friends, officially founded the Silsilah Dialogue Movement. They started meeting weekly for prayer, reflection and sharing. Then, the initiatives succeeded one after the other. “Looking back at the different stages of the Movement, I would say I always took a sign – what I believed was a sign – before making a step,” says the missionary.
They started Silsilah Bulletin to share their experience. After a fire in Lower Calarian, they decided to increment their solidarity with the people of the squatter areas; another step was the Emmaus Community, founded in 1987 by Aminda E. Saño with another colleague (see story on pages 22-23).
Meanwhile, they had decided to have a little center in town, to have a neutral place (not in the house of priests and sisters) to meet. In 1985, they started a summer course. Initially, it was for the group, but it became a so significant experience – opening doors and linking leaders – that they have been organizing it for 23 years.
HARMONY VILLAGE
In 1990, Silsilah started thinking about the possibility of having a proper place. Fr. Sebastiano set out to look for it. Searching he ended in Pitogo, Sinunuc, where there’s a beautiful view of the sea with Basilan Island as backdrop. He fell in love with it. Then, he discovered that the owner was a Chinese friend of his. He was so generous as to donate 5 hectares and sell another 5 at a symbolic price. That way, they got the land that would be the Harmony Village. Little by little, they developed it.
The first office for interreligious dialogue of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) was set up in Zamboanga. The Filipino bishops had planned to form a Commission for Interreligious Dialogue separated from that of Ecumenism. Archbishop Fernando Capalla of Davao was nominated as its head and asked Fr. Sebastiano to be the secretary of the Commission.
More or less at the same time, his Sardinian colleague and friend of old, Fr. Salvatore Carzedda, came back from Chicago (USA) where he had studied interreligious dialogue and had made a Master’s thesis on Jesus in the Kur’an. Enthusiastic about the Silsilah experience, asked Fr. Sebastiano to be a part of it. He was assigned to the areas of formation and publication. They started the Silsilah Publications. Officially, they are a publisher, although they publish only a few books.
As a regional superior, Fr. Sebastiano went to the General Chapter of his Institute. They assigned him, with another colleague, to initiate a new institute called Euntes. It is located not far from the Harmony Village. Since then, the Institute has been administering renewal courses on pastoral, spirituality and mission to hundreds of Asians.
Meanwhile, Fr. Sebastiano himself had the opportunity to make further studies and to deepen his reflection while making the experience. When the University of Cotabato started its College of Education, he did a doctorate on interreligious dialogue.
BAPTISM OF BLOOD
In March 1992, some MNLF commanders who were his friends came to tell him that a new group had appeared and they described it as the beginning of what came to be Abu Sayyaf. One of them told me: “Father, I have the order from this new group to kidnap you. Obviously, I am not going to do it.” Then, he tried to protect him introducing him to a few people in Zamboanga, asking them not to touch him.
After two months, on May 20, Fr. Salvatore was gunned down at around 9.30 p.m. in San José Road, in Zamboanga City. They were having the 6th Silsilah Summer Course in the city, in a school near Fort Pilar. That evening, Fr. Salvatore’s talk was titled: “Mission, Dialogue and Liberation. A Christian Perspective.” (An original blood-stained copy of the lecture is at the Movement’s center in town.)
The news reached Fr. Salvatore’s family before the missionaries were able to call them. Somebody conveyed the news to Italy, when the news service (the Telegiornale) of the public TV channel RAI was about to start. Half an hour after the murder, the news was on the air. Abu Sayyaf claimed the murder.
There are different hypothesis about the incident. It could be that they killed him because he was very vocal. Or, it could be that they just wanted to make big news by killing a foreign priest. But, most probably the aim was to kill Fr. Sebastiano.
Both missionaries drove a Mitsubishi van L-300. Fr. Salvatore used to go back to their house in Suterville in the evening to sleep. That fatal evening, however, feeling exhausted, he decided not to return. Fr. Salvatore, however, did. Two motorcycles followed him and mowed him down.
It was a very dramatic moment for Fr. Sebastiano (who was then in charge of formation in Euntes and was welcoming a new group in two weeks time) and for Silsilah. The closing ceremony of the summer course, with the handing of the diplomas, was done in front of Fr. Salvatore’s coffin in the PIME house.
Fr. Sebastiano recalls: “Some tried to discourage us from continuing. I called the other colleagues to ask what to do. We decided to go on. We adopted Fr. Salvatore’s often-repeated word Padayon (“Let us move on!”). It became our motto.”
THE SECOND EXILE
Afraid for his safety, Fr. Sebastiano’s superiors asked him to leave the Philippines, which happened in August, 1992: “This is my second exile,” he says. He stayed three years in Italy. But came to visit every year to follow up the Movement. He was assigned to work in seminaries with representatives of other congregations. He would share his experience. He formed a group Friends of Salvatore and then Comunità Dialogo. He wrote a book: Pellegrini in Dialogo, a spiritual journey for that community.
The aftermath of Fr. Salvatore’s assassination was tough for Silsilah members. They had to bear the constant intimidation. Aminda recalls that they were receiving threatening letters and phone calls, asking them to pay and to close down Silsilah and the Emmaus Community. Once, they received a parcel containing a Bible and a hand grenade. She gives the following explanation: “Dialogue was something new and some might be thinking that it was a new strategy to convert them. According to what our neighbors revealed to us around six months later (towards November/December), we were being observed every night. Those, who had been beneficiaries of our services, were also threatened by Muslim leaders that they would be killed like Fr. Salvatore. Their answer was: ‘Silsilah is providing for us what you never did.’”
Meanwhile, the owner of the building where they had their Center in town, afraid that it would be bombed, raised the rent so they would look for another place. This is where they are now. But, instead of weakening the Movement, the murder promoted it. In 1993, the year after Fr. Salvatore was assassinated, the majority of those attending the summer course, for the first time, were Muslims.
In 1995, Fr. Sebastiano wanted to come back to the Philippines. Providentially, Archbishop Capalla requested him again (upon his suggestion) to be the secretary of the CBCP Commission for Interreligious Dialogue. Many programs started during his tenure. Bishops-Ulama Conference (BUC) was one of them (before it was called Bishops-Ulama Forum). He is still part of such effort.
The office was in Manila. Once, being in Davao for a meeting, he had the unpleasant surprise of a strong heart attack. He had to slow down his work pace. He went to Tagaytay area to recover and had the idea of making a house of prayer. He identified a nice piece of land in Silang, Cavite, belonging to the Rogationists of the Heart of Jesus. There, he built an Oasis of Prayer. He was welcoming groups and giving retreats on the spirituality of dialogue. He also went to Zamboanga from time to time. He realized that his presence was more needed there. Feeling stronger, he turned over the prayer center to the Rogationists and settled again in Zamboanga in 1998.
PLENTIFUL INITIATIVES
Since then, Silsilah has registered an extraordinary growth. Developments in Harmony Village accelerated to the point that it almost has become financially self-supporting. Services already available: a library with a rich collection of books on Christianity, Islam and other religions; a Media Desk (posed to become a Media Center) to promote the movement’s initiatives; a dialogue institute to provide long- and short-term courses, seminars, workshops, training and immersion for individuals and groups on dialogue; structures to welcome groups. The last effort was the House of Spirituality and the Emmaus Circle to promote the spirituality of dialogue.
In the year 2000, during the presidency of Joseph Estrada, with the all-out war in Mindanao, they decided to start the harmony chain initiative that spread around the world and is present already in 25 countries. This is an interfaith initiative of meditation and prayer for dialogue and peace. The reference to meditation aims at reaching out to Buddhists, Hindus, etc. Fr. Sebastiano wrote the lyrics for the Harmony Prayer that in some way capsulizes the spirit. It spread after a famous musician, Nonong Buencamino, composed the music for it. (It can be heard in You Tube performed by Kathleen Leslie.) Even OPAPP (the Office of Presidential Adviser on the Peace Process) adopted the prayer. Every month, Fr. Vincent, a French priest in charge of the chain, makes and sends the newsletter in Italian and English.
Meanwhile, Silsilah has started the interfaith council of leaders of Zamboanga and in these days they are helping Basilan to start its own. They have also started the youth program, using media for dialogue and peace. The help of film director Marilou Diaz-Abaya has been crucial in such development.
Their links are multiplying, the chain is growing. They make linkages with other groups. But their prioritarian partners are the Bishops-Ulama Conference and the CBCP. They try to avoid being part of alliances because, as Fr. Sebastiano notes, “sometimes there’s infiltration of political motivations. We are open to collaborate, but we would like to maintain a certain freedom.”
From now on, Silsilah is open to accept priests for the Movement, linked with the experience of Emmaus. They are also encouraging Muslim women to deepen their religion, embrace the Great Jihad – the struggle in the heart for purification – and work for dialogue and peace. The experience, called Muslim Women for Dialogue and Peace (Muslimah), will be the counterpart of the Emmaus Community and it will start in Jolo and Davao.
A LIFELONG GOAL
Fr. Sebastiano stresses that true dialogue is needed: “Dialogue is not to have a seminar or to make a parade! It is a continuous commitment. There are lots of initiatives – meetings, resolutions, statements – but not real dialogue that comes from the heart, sustained by a commitment. For us, dialogue is not a strategy, a way of solving problems or a facade like what is happening now. Dialogue is the style of God.”
And adds: “In the Philippines, many groups talk about the culture of peace. We talk about the culture of dialogue because we want to emphasize that dialogue is the way, peace is the goal. Dialogue, the way to peace, is the fruit of internal growth. As we live the spirituality of dialogue, we have different challenges. One of them is religious dialogue. Religious dialogue is not the priority. The priority is the spirituality of dialogue.”
A culture of dialogue is valid for all contexts, not only for conflict-ridden places, and it leads to personal and social transformation. But dialogue has been becoming more and more difficult. Reasons: “There’s a certain fear and discouragement on the part of Christians. On the part of Muslims, some want to be in dialogue, but are refrained by the leaders. Radicalism is increasing. Fear and prejudice are becoming stronger. In this situation, we have to do more and to appeal to those who believe we have to be united.”
The Memorandum of Agreement on Ancestral Domains (MOA-AD) made things more difficult. It created frustration and disappointment. “It was strange that the Government has been working only with MILF because there are other sectors that are supposed to be involved – the Sultanate, the Lumad and the civil society.” Now, the President has requested the Bishops-Ulama Conference to spearhead a civil society initiative to come up with a framework for lasting peace in Mindanao. But people want to see if the government’s reconstituted negotiating team has any rabbit in the hat!
Dialogue, especially Muslim-Christian dialogue, still remains a great challenge for all. Fr. Sebastiano recalls the encouragement and advice given to him by his friend, Bishop Tudtud, who died in a plane accident, after explaining to him his plan: “Sebastiano, go on with Silsilah, but remember that this is a vision-mission for a hundred years,” to say that it is a lifelong goal. And they – Fr. Sebastiano, Aminda and a few thousands of other Silsilah members, who in these days are renewing their commitment – are determined not to surrender to the difficulties. Theirs is the long, quite, dialogical and peaceful way.
For more information on the history of Silsilah, the last book of Fr. Sebastiano D’Ambra titled Call to a Dream and published by Silsilah Publications, is recommended (see cover on the right). Other data can be found in their website: www.silsilahforum.org. Film director Marilou Diaz-Abaya made a DVD about the Movement.
