ACI MENA, Apr 5, 2025 /
07:00 am
On the morning of Sunday, March 2, without any prior notice, Johnny Fouad Dawoud, a deacon in the Syriac Catholic Church for the Archdiocese of Homs, was released from a Syrian prison after a decade of confinement.
ACI MENA, CNA’s Arabic-language news partner, spoke with him after he was reunited with his family to discuss his ordeal of being captured by the Al-Nusra Front, his moments of faith and doubt behind bars, and the light that now shines in his life.
ACI MENA: Tell us first about your upbringing and journey in the Church.
Dawoud: I was born into a religiously committed family, and from childhood, I was passionate about participating in pastoral activities. At the age of 12, I joined the minor and then the major seminary in Lebanon, graduating in 2009 with a degree in theology and philosophy from the University of the Holy Spirit in Kaslik, Lebanon.
I returned to Homs to prepare for my priestly ordination, but as the date for the diaconal ordination approached, I felt unprepared to take on those roles and was not entirely convinced about celibacy. After much reflection and consultation, I decided to be honest with God and myself, and withdrew — a decision that surprised my family and friends, especially my uncle, Cardinal Patriarch Mar Ignatius Moses I Daoud.
[Editor’s note: Dawoud later became a permanent deacon in the Syriac Catholic Church, allowing him to read the Epistles during the liturgy.]
What challenges did you face after that?
I got married and was blessed with a child. However, with the outbreak of the Syrian revolution, I lost my home in the Christian district of Hamidiyah in Old Homs due to clashes. Military service was the biggest challenge; I was moved between several fronts, the last being Abu Dhuhur airport, where we were besieged for months.
The situation was tragic; food supplies ran out, and we were forced to eat grass and leaves. The water was contaminated and not potable, leading to various diseases. In September 2015, the rebels stormed the airport, and only 38 out of 300 survived.
After you were captured and taken to prison, how did you experience captivity?
We were held hoping for a prisoner exchange, but regime officials did not seriously cooperate with our case. At one point, their negotiators even said, “Kill them; we no longer care about them.” Throughout the 10 years, we were generally treated well and were not subjected to torture or insult, except during the initial investigation period. Yet, our suffering was immense, the hardest part being the complete isolation from the outside world, enough to destroy anyone’s psyche. Living in the unknown as if you were dead causes constant turmoil and devastating frustration.
We fell ill, including with COVID-19, which nearly killed us, and we didn’t even know it had claimed millions outside. Food and water were generally good, though the lack of washing and bathroom water troubled us, but we managed.
After three years of captivity, we were allowed one short call per year (during Ramadan) with our families, thanks to a meeting with Abu Mohammad al-Julani, leader of the Al-Nusra Front.
How did this experience affect your faith?
(Story continues below)
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It’s very difficult for a captive to describe his spiritual experience in prison in a few words.
Muslims were interested in discussing religious issues with me, some of whom I avoided debating due to their blind fanaticism — they knew only words like infidel, polytheist, apostate, atheist, and hypocrite.
However, graduates from Islamic legal institutes and colleges were enjoyable to discuss with, as I had a margin of freedom to speak and defend my faith, which they accepted and understood.
I truly loved witnessing to my faith as if I were living among our saintly fathers and martyrs in times of early persecution. I always lived with Apostle Paul, saying with him: “We are ambassadors for Christ,” indeed being an ambassador for Christ and not just in words, in a place where that was considered heresy.
I prayed a lot, conversing with my Lord at night and calling upon him during the day. But it pains me to say that at the beginning of my captivity, as the years passed and my and my family’s suffering increased, my faith wavered. My trust in God began to shake, and I wondered: Why does my Lord not respond to me? Why is he punishing me? What sins did my family commit to deserve all this suffering?
What about the moment of your release and your reception in Homs?
On the morning of Sunday, March 2, without any prior knowledge, they called my name, asking me to prepare to leave. I stood outside the prison gate, unbelieving that I was free. I was transferred to the Christian village of Ya’qubiya in Idlib countryside, where Father Louai the Franciscan and the locals warmly received me, leaving a lasting impression on me. There, I contacted the pastor of our Syriac Catholic archdiocese, Bishop Jacob Murad, and my family. My brother Munther, who did not know I had been released, began screaming with joy when I told him, “Prepare dinner, I’ll be home this evening.”
When I arrived at my diocese in Homs, Bishop Jacob, along with priests, my wife, my son, and many relatives and friends, were there to receive me. We entered the church to give thanks to the Lord, and I received holy Communion from his eminence the bishop. After receiving congratulations, I headed to my village, Maskanah (in the Homs countryside), and we entered the village with a grand celebration.
Christians and Muslims, young and old, welcomed me, and crowds from other areas came. When I saw the joy of the people at my liberation, I truly and immediately forgot the suffering of those 10 years.
This story was first published by ACI MENA, CNA’s Arabic-language news partner, and has been translated and adapted by CNA.
Souheil Lawand is a staff writer at ACI MENA as well as a researcher in Roman and Christian history. a Church educator and a scout leader.
