Remembering Anthony Sil: Scholar, Mentor, and Patriot

The death of Mr. Anthony Sil on July 18, 2025, has left a profound void in my life. He was more than a lecturer or supervisor—he was a mentor, guide, and friend whose steady presence and intellectual leadership influenced the direction of my academic and professional journey. His passing is not only a personal loss but a national one, for Papua New Guinea has lost one of its finest political thinkers and dedicated educators. 

I first met Mr. Sil under unassuming circumstances. I was a first-year student at the University of Papua New Guinea, barely finding my footing in political science. One afternoon, as I stood outside my dormitory, I saw Mr. Wamil Mol walking by with another man. Wamil, recognizing me, called out, “Come and meet Tony Sil.” I walked over, and Mr. Sil shook my hand firmly. I remember clearly—he had a novel tucked under his arm. That small gesture left an impression. Here was a man of ideas, returning from his studies in Britain, bringing with him a depth of knowledge and presence that would later become a defining influence in my life.

In the years that followed, I came to know him not only as an academic but as a mentor who took a keen personal interest in my development. He lectured in two of the most formative courses I ever took: Southeast Asian Politics and International Relations. I was eager, perhaps overly so. I dominated tutorial classes, firing off what I now recognize were a mix of naive and thoughtful questions. Mr. Sil never ridiculed or dismissed them. Instead, he saw in my inquisitiveness the makings of a researcher and gently pushed me to refine my thinking.

His lectures were powerful, punctuated with references to Hans Morgenthau—the realist philosopher he revered. To this day, whenever I read Morgenthau’s name, I think of Mr. Sil. He believed in grounding policy discussions in theory, in drawing from the great thinkers of international relations to better understand the challenges we face in Papua New Guinea and beyond.

It was Mr. Sil who saw potential in me beyond undergraduate studies. He encouraged me to apply for the Honors program, saying plainly, “You can do more, Bernard. Don’t waste the opportunity.” Under his supervision, I wrote my honors thesis on China’s economic reforms under Deng Xiaoping, examining how PNG might adopt elements of ideological pragmatism in its own development. I was inexperienced and uncertain, but Mr. Sil guided me with patience, never imposing, always nudging me in the right direction.

A screenshot of the cover page of my unpublished sub thesis

He would later call me his protégé—a term I now carry with humility and pride. His belief in my potential gave me the confidence to pursue postgraduate studies and an academic career. He was instrumental in helping me secure my first job as a part-time tutorial fellow in 2009, together with Mr. Dickson Susub, who was then the Political Science Strand Leader. That opportunity was more than a position; it was an invitation to walk a path that Mr. Sil had walked before—teaching, mentoring, and contributing to nation-building through ideas.

Outside the classroom, Mr. Sil was equally influential. I still recall vividly the first time I shared a beer with him. I was in my final year, and a group of us had gathered informally. He spoke at length about his time in Britain, about global affairs, about the state of international relations. We stood there, captivated. It was in that moment that I realized knowledge was not confined to lecture halls—it lived in conversations, in reflections, in shared moments like these.

Our last meeting was during the National Intelligence Organization Act Review Symposium. He picked me up from the airport himself, and we spoke at length during the drive. He was concerned about the outdated nature of the NIO Act and the need for reform. More importantly, he emphasized how essential it was for academics and practitioners to work together to shape meaningful security policy. That was Anthony Sil—always bridging theory and practice, always seeking to make ideas serve the public good.

Outside APEC Haus during the National Intelligence Organization Act Review Symposium. Photo courtesy of Mr. Lahui Ako.

After the symposium, we had a beer together again—just the two of us. I took that opportunity to thank him for everything he had done for me. I told him, plainly, that I wouldn’t be where I am without his mentorship and support. He smiled, in his usual understated way, and simply said, “You listened. That’s why you’re here.” That moment—our final conversation—will stay with me for the rest of my life.

He continued to check in on me even after I had long left UPNG. His WhatsApp messages were always encouraging: “I’m proud of you,” he would write. “You followed through.” These small gestures meant the world to me. They reminded me that true mentorship endures. It does not end with graduation or promotion—it continues in the quiet encouragement, in the pride taken in a former student’s growth.

Mr. Sil’s influence on my life was not just academic. He taught me what it means to be principled in scholarship, to ground one’s work in theory while remaining attuned to real-world challenges. His intellectual integrity, his dedication to PNG’s development, and his commitment to teaching have left a legacy that extends far beyond the university.

Papua New Guinea has lost a thinker, a mentor, and a patriot. Mr. Sil believed in the power of education to transform lives. He believed in developing leaders who think critically, act ethically, and serve selflessly. He exemplified these values himself, and through his students, these values live on.

As I mourn his passing, I also commit to carrying forward his legacy. I will teach as he taught, mentor as he mentored, and serve as he served. I will strive to uphold the standards he set and pass on to others the encouragement and belief he so generously gave to me.

Rest in peace, Mr. Anthony Sil. Scholar. Mentor. Patriot. I am proud to have known you, honored to have been your student, and committed to carrying your legacy forward. Your work continues through us.

We decided to take a photo to capture the rare moment. Photo courtesy of Mr. Joe Kamin.

 

Captured during our final meeting in December 2024. Photo courtesy of Mr. Joe Kamin.