IN THE early 1980s an Italian Jesuit came to Syria to study Arabic and found a disused monastery in dry mountains north of the capital, Damascus. Research revealed that Deir Mar Musa al-Habashi (the Monastery of Saint Moses the Abyssinian) had been founded at the site in the 6th century and rebuilt in the 11th—adorned with beautiful frescoes—before being abandoned several hundred years later. Won over by the history and the aspect of the monastery, Paolo Dall’Oglio set about restoring it.

By 1991 Deir Mar Musa was once again home to a flourishing community. Thousands of Christians, who make up about 10% of Syria’s mosaic population, came for festivals. Groups of Muslims, Syria’s majority, climbed up hundreds of pilgrim steps for the view over a stark desert valley. The monastery became a stop on the lightly trodden foreign tourist trail. Visitors helped with the cooking and cleaning in return for dinner and a bed for the night.

With a light touch, Father Paolo strove to improve relations between Syria’s religious communities, who lived in harmony but ignorance of each other. He brought together Muslims and Christians in seminars, turning the monastery into a symbol of tolerance. When the dead started to pile up following a 2011 uprising triggered by the Arab spring, Deir Mar Musa welcomed mourners and commemorated victims, including Bassel Shehade, a filmmaker killed by government shells.

Vocal support by Father Paolo for the opposition led officials to expel him in June last year. Undeterred he sought a role as broker between warring factions, travelling in rebel-held territory, one time negotiating the release of Christians taken hostage in Qusayr, a town on the border with Lebanon. Last month Father Paolo went to Raqqa, a city in northern Syria now held by jihadists, to negotiate an end to clashes with Kurdish rebels. He has not been seen since and may have been kidnapped. With 100,000 killed in its civil war, Syria needs Father Paolo more than ever.