From Despair to Determination: A Call for Change in the Muslim World

As I watch the news unfold from southern Lebanon, I feel an overwhelming sense of despair. Families are fleeing their homes, crammed into cars and motorcycles, desperately seeking safety as Israeli bombs rain down on their cities. In Gaza, the situation is no better; for eleven long months, the people have endured a relentless assault, their lives shattered by unyielding violence. These events resonate deeply with me, reminding me of a broader truth: we are trapped in a cycle of suffering that seems never-ending.

I remember, as a young person, watching the United States march into Iraq and Afghanistan, wrapped in the guise of bringing peace and justice to the region. But it didn’t take long for the reality to sink in: this was not about liberation but about control—control over resources, power, and influence. The speed at which the U.S. bombed Iraq while securing its oil fields left me questioning the true motives behind such actions.

Back then, we were often fed the narrative that Iran labelled the U.S. the “Great Satan” and vowed to stand against it. Saudi Arabia was seen as a potential kingmaker, one that could cripple America by turning off the oil tap. Egypt’s fierce rhetoric against the U.S. was almost comforting, but in hindsight, it was all empty bravado.

As I reflect on the chaos in Lebanon and Gaza, I cannot help but feel disillusioned by the leaders who promised so much yet delivered so little. These rulers—whether in Iran, Saudi Arabia, or Egypt—have often prioritised their regimes’ stability over their people’s welfare. In moments of crisis, they have consistently chosen to side with foreign interests rather than stand up for their citizens.

The current violence only amplifies these failures. As bombs explode in Lebanon, targeting Hezbollah strongholds, and civilians in Gaza face relentless airstrikes, the leaders who once vowed to resist foreign aggression are nowhere to be seen, leaving their people to fend for themselves amidst the destruction.

Amid this despair, I find hope in the stories of ordinary individuals who have ignited change. Mohamed Bouazizi, a Tunisian street vendor, comes to mind. His act of self-immolation in protest of government corruption sparked a movement that reverberated throughout the Arab world. Similarly, the tragic story of Hamza al-Khateeb, a young Syrian boy arrested and tortured for spraying graffiti, serves as a powerful reminder of how one person’s courage can inspire change.

These individuals did not have military backing or political power; they were ordinary people driven by a desire for justice. Their actions sparked uprisings, igniting flames of resistance that had been smouldering for years. It’s a humbling reminder that true change often begins with individuals willing to challenge the status quo. As Allah reminds us: 

“O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm in justice…” 
(Quran 4:135).

A New Vision for the Ummah

However, in times of crisis, I find strength in the resilience of the people. True change in the Muslim world will not come from the top down; it will come from us, the masses. It is the collective voice of the people that can create the pressure necessary for real regime change.

We should not be looking for leaders to save us; rather, we must become the change we want to see. This change cannot simply replace one oppressive regime with another; it must reflect our beliefs, values, and culture—an independent system free from colonial influence. The recent mobilisations of the people in Bangladesh against Sheikh Hasina illustrate that we, too, can demand their removal.

I recognise that the real power does not lie in the hands of corrupt leaders but among those sincere officers in the military—those who do not subscribe to the U.S. agenda of their rulers or chiefs. These officers, who understand the pain and suffering of their fellow citizens, could be pivotal in bringing about the change we desperately need. They are often caught in a system that betrays their commitment to their people, but they possess the potential to stand against the tide and champion the cause of the masses.

It is imperative to highlight that sincere officers in the military, who do not align with the interests of foreign powers, can play a crucial role in this transformation. They have the capacity to stand against the corrupt structures that have kept their people oppressed and to support the genuine aspirations of the masses. It is time for us, the mass populace, to stand up, to demand real change, and to challenge the narrative that has kept us subjugated for so long.

Today, as we witness the suffering of the people in Lebanon and Gaza, we are confronted with a critical choice: to continue to rely on the leaders who have failed us or to take action ourselves. The leaders who promised to stand against foreign powers have consistently let us down, and the time for waiting has passed. It is not about organising a million-man march on the streets of Cairo or Jeddah. Instead, true change will come from our sustained efforts, persistently pressing those in power—especially the sincere officers of the army—to enact real regime change.

This change must reflect our beliefs, values, and culture, independent of the colonial structures that have dominated our lives for so long. We must demand the Islamic system that represents us and that embodies our aspirations as an ummah. As the Quran states,

“And We wanted to confer favor upon those who were oppressed in the land and make them leaders and make them inheritors.”
(Quran 28:5).

The lessons from Bouazizi and Hamza teach us that real change often begins with ordinary individuals. It is up to us—the mass populace—to seize this moment, break the submission cycle to foreign powers, and forge a new order that genuinely represents our identity and ambitions.

The path to change lies in our hands, and we must be willing to struggle for a future that honours the dignity and aspirations of the ummah. As we strive for this future, let us remember:

“And do not lose hope in the mercy of Allah. Indeed, no one despairs of relief from Allah except the disbelieving people
(Quran 12:87).