Protecting Our Freedom To Love Everyone Because That Is Our Choice

“He who is committed to the poor must share
the same fate as the poor… to disappear, to be tortured… 
and to be found dead by the side of the road….”
Saint and Bishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador

The haters won’t wait. 

With an election only days away, they’ll preach hate and make enemies of anyone who, through the work of the Divine, is different. 

As America awaits the next burst of anti-Islamic/anti-Muslim/anti-Semitic bile, a young man too easily overlooked in an icon offers the promise of hope, tolerance and goodness. 

First, history and perspective:

Estimates are that more than two-hundred-thousand Algerians, including 114 imams, were slaughtered during the “black decade” – 1991 to 2002.

Algerian journalist Rachid Khiari wrote:

“People lived for eight years not knowing if they would even return home when they left the house in the morning. People saw babies massacred and whole villages wiped out… no one knew who was killing who anymore.”

Under serious indigenous pressures, French colonizers and their forces withdrew from Algeria in the 1960s, opening the door to conflict among predominantly Islamic elements and basically secular forces. Many of the former – extremists and fundamentalists - advocated a potent combination of political power and religious enthusiasm to assert national identity and counter the influence of wealthy nations. 

For Algerians, the 1980s had been an era of unprecedented openness, marked by increasing personal freedoms and the development of new political parties. Yet, when Islamist parties appeared on the verge of sweeping electoral victories in the early 90s, the government cancelled elections and the Islamists fought back – targeting the army and police. Then civilians: artists, teachers, journalists and judges. Neither the extremists nor state security forces discriminated in their violence 

The insurgency was eventually trampled and a charter for national reconciliation was established in 2005.

“We are protecting our freedom to love everyone,
because that is our choice. 
Christians are not the only martyrs of charity.
Muslims are, too.”
Father Christian de Cherge

Our Lady of Atlas Trappist monastery at Tibhirine was founded in 1934 as a committed witness among the people of Algeria. Trappists make a vow of stability – linking them for life to their community. In cases of serious violence and danger, the decision to leave is voted upon by the whole community after thorough discussion among the members. 

On Christmas Eve 1993, insurgents seeking medical supplies and financial and logistical support in exchange for security attempted to ransack the monastery.  The Trappists elected to stay, preferring to be a sign of peace to all sides – even at the risk of their own lives. “Our neighbors would not understand,” said the monks, who ran a small medical clinic and provided other assistance to their Muslim neighbors. The following year they reaffirmed their vote to be living witnesses of God’s love in Algeria – through prayer, a simple life, manual labor, and openness and sharing with everyone, especially the poorest of the poor. 

On May 8, 1994, Little Sister of the Assumption Paul-Helene Saint Raymond and Marist Brother Henri Verges were killed by Islamic militants. 

“We must not be afraid;
we only have to live well in the present moment.
The rest does not belong to us.”
Sister Angele-Marie (Jeanne Littlejohn)

“I choose to stay to respond to the trust show to us
and be a glimmer of hope in the land of Algeria.”
Sister Bibiane (Denise Leclerq)

On October 23, 1994, Augustinian Sisters Caridad Maria Alvarez and Esther Alonso were assassinated on their way to mass in Algiers. n December 27, 1994, Jean Chevillar, Christian Chessel, Alain Dieulangard and Charles Deckers – members of the White Fathers, a community with longstanding ties to Africa, were killed in the courtyard of their mission in Tizi Ouzou. Sisters Denise Bibiane Leclerq and Jeanne Littlejohn of the Sisters of Our Lady of the Apostles were killed on September 5, 1995 almost immediately after leaving Mass. 

“We see that we are at a juncture between two groups [i.e., government and fundamentalist rebels] who are in conflict here, to some extent, everywhere in the West and the Near East,” the monks of Tibhirine wrote, explaining their decision to remain and give witness. 

Amidst all the death and violence, Trappist Father Christopher Lebreton, who had been a student revolutionary in France in 1968, wrote:

“There is something unique in our way of being Church: how we react to events, how we wait for them and live them out in practice. It has to do with a certain awareness, that we are responsible not for doing something, but for being something here, in response to Truth and to Love. Are we facing eternity?  There is a sense of that… The martyr no longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of martyrdom.”

Perhaps recognizing the absolute dangers through which they were living, Father Christian de Cherge, who had long been one of the guiding spirits of [“Bond of Peace”], a group engaged in Islamic-Christian dialogue, prepared what has become known as his “Testament” – “to be opened in the event of my death”:

“I have lived long enough to know that I am an accomplice in the evil which seems, alas, to prevail in the world, even in the evil which might blindly strike me down. I would like, when the time comes, to have a moment of spiritual clarity which would allow me to beg forgiveness of God and of my fellow human beings, and at the same time forgive with all my heart the one who will strike me down. I could not desire such a death. It seems to me important to state this. I do not see, in fact, how I could rejoice if the people I love were indiscriminately accused of my murder. It would be too high a price to pay for what will perhaps be called the ‘grace of martyrdom.’”

He addressed the final words of his Testament to the unknown person who might, someday, cause his death:

“In God’s face I see yours. May we meet again as happy thieves in Paradise, if it please God, the Father of us both. Amen! In H’Allah!”

During the night of March 26-27, 1996, seven of the monks of Our Lady of Atlas were abducted by Armed Islamic Group (GIA) rebels, who demanded the release of GIA members held in Algeria and France: “The choice is yours. If you liberate, we shall liberate. If you do not free your prisoners, we will cut the throats of ours. Glory to God.”

On May 23, the GIA announced that they had cut the throats of Fathers Christian de Cherge, Christian Lebreton, Bruno Lemarchand, Celestine Ringeard, and Brothers Luke Dochier, Michael Fleury, and Paul Miville – two days before. 

Their severed heads were found on the side of a road. But not their bodies. 

Their remains were buried in the cemetery of the Monastery of Our lady of Atlas at Tibhirine. 

Despite the GIA claims of responsibility for the murders, the identity of the assassins has never been conclusively established. Many observers believed that Algeria’s secret services (DRS) designed the kidnapping as an attempt to discredit the Islamist opposition with which the regime had always rejected political dialogue. Others contend that government agents infiltrated GIA and pressed the group to attack unnamed civilian groups. Still others believe the monks were killed accidentally in a botched Algerian military operation. 

Nonetheless, Algerian authorities have always denied all allegations of crimes against humanity. When questioned about the murder of the monks in 2004, Algerian President Abdelaziz Bouteflika responded, “Some truths are better not told right away.”

“The covenant with God passes through
The covenant with the people to whom he gives us.”
Bishop Pierre Claverie

Finally, on August 1, 1996, Pierre Lucien Clavarie, bishop of the Algerian city of Oran, and his Muslim friend and chauffeur Mohamed Bouchikhi were killed by terrorists. 

In their lives and martyrdoms, the bishop and his friend challenge American anti-Muslims, Islamophobes and haters. 

The child of French settlers, Pierre Claverie was unaware of the “colonial bubble” in which he grew up; he spoke no Arabic and had almost no contact with Muslim Algerians. Only as a college student and seminarian in Europe did he begin to question the colonialism that ruled the land of his birth: 

“How could I have lived in ignorance of this world, which demanded recognition of its identity and dignity? In churches, how could I have so often have heard the words of Christ about loving the Other as myself, as Him, and never met that other?”

Ordained in 1965 with the Order of Preachers ((Dominicans), Claverie returned to Algeria and immersed himself in ecumenism and dialogue with Muslims, studying Islamic culture and mastering Classical Arabic, which he taught to Muslims who understood only the common language, rather than its classical origins. He was named bishop of Oran in 1981.

Mohamed grew up living in the shadows of the local Catholic church, befriending the parish priests and Sisters, and volunteering in service to the church. In the only photo that exists of him, he stands beside the parish’s white Peugeot, wearing a blue polka-dotted shirt and jeans. Despite the danger from extremist, he frequently chauffeured Bishop Pierre, who worried about Mohamed’s safety and asked him to consider stopping. The suggestion reportedly upset Mohamed, who refused to abandon his friend. 

“If it’s just for one like Mohamed, it’s enough of a reason to stay,” said the bishop.

On the night of August 1, 1996, Mohamed met Bishop Pierre at the airport. When they arrived at the bishop’s residence, a bomb blast hit – and killed – them instantly. 

Only later was it discovered that, in a fashion reflecting Trappist Father Christian de Cherge, Mohamed had also prepared his Testament:

In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.

Before I pick up my pen, I say to you: Peace be upon you. I thank you who will read my diary, and I say to each one of those whom I have known in my life that I’m thankful. They will be rewarded by God on the Last Day. Farewell to those who I have harmed, I ask your forgiveness. And may those who have forgiven me find pardon on the Day of Judgment. Forgive me for any time that an evil word has passed my lips, and I ask all of my friends to forgive me on account of my youth. Yet, on this day on which I am writing to you, I remember the good that I have done in my life. May God, in all of his power, help me to surrender to him, and grant me his tenderness.

The blood of the Catholic bishop and martyr and the Muslim martyr who was his friend mingled forever in the ruins of a bomb blast. 

An icon was unveiled during December 8, 2018 beatification ceremony for the nineteen Catholic Martyrs of Algeria – fifteen French, two Spanish, one Belgian and one Maltese, members of eight different religious communities – in the Oran Chapel of Our Lady of the Holy Cross.

When gazing at the icon, it is perhaps easy to overlook the 22-year-old – still almost a boy – in a blue polka-dotted shirt, jeans and sandals in the lower righthand corner. Unlike the others, he is not adorned with a halo. From birth to his martyr’s death, he was a faithful Muslim.  

In the end, Islamic extremists who murdered Brothers and Sisters, cloistered monks and the bishop of Oran and his Muslim friend and the so-called Oath Keepers and Proud Boys and Three-percenters and insurgents who assaulted police in the nation’s Capitol on January 6 are one-and-the-same. They take cover in ideologies and are driven by fear and hatred. 

In their cowardice they “other” others.

“I not only accept that the Other is the Other,
a distinct subject with freedom of conscience, 
but I accept that he or she may posses 
a part of the truth that I do not have, 
and without which my own search for the truth 
cannot be fully realized.”
Bishop Pierre Claverie