Homing in

Protestants found refuge in Italy, now help Syrians

The story of Maha Dahine and her two sons, Hanna and Antoine Khoury, is similar to those of countless victims of the conflict in Syria. Driven by fear and hopelessness, they left their homeland in 2016 for an uncertain future in Europe.

But while many thousands of migrants have risked their lives by crossing the Mediterranean in rickety vessels, Dahine and her sons had a vastly different experience.

In November 2018, the family boarded a plane in Lebanon, where they had lived for two years after fleeing Syria, and flew to Rome, before traveling on to the Alpine valleys of the western Piedmont region of Italy to start a new life.

They were able to make the trip thanks in part to the efforts of the Waldensians, a religious movement that settled in Piedmont in the 12th century to escape persecution in France.

Fired by those memories, the Waldensians have been at the forefront of an Italian initiative called Humanitarian Corridors, which also includes the Federation of Evangelical Churches in Italy and the Community of St. Egidio, a Catholic charity based in Rome, that has helped some 2,000 refugees from Syria arrive in the country since 2016.

‘THEME OF THE REFUGEE’

Waldensians are “very sensitive to the theme of the refugee,” says Erika Tomassone, a church official, mindful of ancestors who were shunted from country to country for centuries.

“Historically, we used to be the immigrants,” says Gianluca Barbanotti, the executive secretary of the Waldensian Diaconate, which coordinates the church’s charitable activities.

The Waldensian church is the largest Protestant denomination in a country that is overwhelmingly Catholic. Today, there are about 20,000 Waldensians scattered throughout Italy. But the majority still live in three Piedmont valleys: the Val Chisone, Valle Germanasca and Val Pellice.

The town of Torre Pellice includes a neighborhood known as the “Waldensian Quarter,” its design taken from the terraced houses of 19th-century England, with a temple influenced by Anglican churches, a nod to the British Protestants who came to the aid of the Waldensians nearly two centuries ago.

Waldensian communities throughout Italy have been deeply involved in Humanitarian Corridors, tapping into their long experience working with migrants.

Humanitarian Corridors is tailored to assist especially vulnerable refugees — often people with significant health problems — who are identified through a lengthy screening process in places like Lebanon. Even though the numbers are small, the Waldensians say their program is now being emulated in France, Belgium and Andorra.

The initiative is “a winning model for a Europe that wants to be worthy of the principles of solidarity and respect of human rights on which it was founded,” says Alessandra Trotta, who leads a seven-member panel that oversees the “Union of the Methodist and Waldensian Churches,” as the church is officially known.

The Waldensians are named after a 12th-century merchant from Lyon named Valdo who shunned his wealth and began preaching on the streets, prompting Pope Lucius III to excommunicate him and his followers and declare them heretics.

ASKED FORGIVENESS

Trotta was present at a 2015 ceremony in Turin when Pope Francis asked forgiveness for the Catholic Church’s past persecutions of the Waldensians.

“I was asked to give the final benediction — everyone now says: ‘You’ve blessed the pope,’” she says, laughing.

Much of the church’s funding comes from Italian taxpayers, who must devolve a percentage of their taxes to a charitable or social initiative. Last year, some 560,000 Italian taxpayers chose to fund the Waldensians, which netted around 42 million euros, or $51 million. “We are aware of the responsibility this gives us,” Trotta says.

This funding is what pays for the Humanitarian Corridors.

Trotta says the corridors were a “winning model,” that showed “something can be done” as an alternative to the unregulated and illegal immigration that conservative political parties have seized on as a target.

“The more you keep doors closed, the more you facilitate irregular routes that bring with them social instability. It’s a vicious cycle that can be broken,” she says.

Once the refugees arrive in Italy, they are provided with housing, a stipend for food, language training, psychological support and legal assistance, while local volunteers and church members help with immediate challenges, like dealing with bureaucracy, enrolling children in schools and job counseling. The level of assistance starts tapering off after six months, depending on the situation, which is often made more difficult by health problems.

“Helping the refugees achieve autonomy encourages inclusion. With a few exceptions it’s worked very well,” says Giovanni Comba, the president of the Waldensian Diaconate.

(The New York Times/Alessandro Grassani) Having fled Syria and spent two years in in Italy, Antoine and Hanna Khoury now speak good Italian, their mother, Maha Dahine, less so. Hanna is studying international development at the University of Turin, while Antoine had a paid internship in web development. “If I feel as though I am improving my life, that I’m learning something new and building a career, and if my family is well, that’s enough for me,” Antoine said during an interview in the kitchen of their apartment.