Gaza Two Years On: Victory is not when the oppressor falls, but when the believer refuses to.

Two years since the war on Gaza began, the world’s most powerful men are once again sitting around tables to design a “new Gaza.” Donald Trump, Benjamin Netanyahu, and Tony Blair — names written in the footnotes of every modern tragedy — are reportedly shaping a 20-point plan for Gaza’s “post-war governance.”

It is a familiar theatre of deceit. The same architects of ruin are rebranding themselves as repairmen. They speak of “stability” and “reconstruction” as though the blood of Palestinians were an infrastructure issue, not a moral indictment.

For many Muslims, this moment feels heavy — another chapter where our lands are decided without us, our lives discussed like policy experiments. But two years on, from the rubble and the graves, a deeper truth is rising: the plans of men crumble, while the promises of Allah endure.

Because this is not the first time our history has darkened before dawn.

When the World Mocked Iman

When the Prophet ﷺ returned from al-Isra wal-Mi‘raj, the miraculous night journey, the Quraysh laughed. They mocked the impossible — a man carried to the heavens in a single night. But Abu Bakr’s reply still echoes through time: “If Muhammad said it, then it is true.”

That is victory — the kind that no empire can crush. It is the refusal to let disbelief define the possible.

So when Muslims today watch the world’s powers redraw Gaza, when they see the news headlines declaring our weakness, they must remember: every mockery of iman has only ever preceded its triumph. The prophets were laughed at too — until the laughter stopped.

The Gaza Generation

Two years on, Gaza has become the moral compass of the world. From Johannesburg to Jakarta, from Dublin to Detroit, a generation has grown up watching not just a war, but a revelation: that in the face of total brutality, iman still stands taller than fear.

“Victory is not when the oppressor falls, but when the believer refuses to.”

The children who grew up under siege have taught an entire Ummah that victory is not when the oppressor falls, but when the believer refuses to. They have shown that power without principle is fragility, and that iman under fire is the strongest force on earth.

Their example has ignited something global: Muslims speaking with one voice, no longer divided by borders, tribes, or the theatre of false states. Gaza has reminded us who we are — not the remnants of empire, but the inheritors of prophecy.

The Crumbling of Empires

Look closely at those who still call themselves the “civilised world.” Their wealth was built on blood, and now it is bleeding away. Their currencies falter, their governments implode, their young people search for meaning in a wasteland of consumption and despair.

This is the aftertaste of empire — the slow rot that follows injustice. For centuries, they colonised the earth with the arrogance of gods. Now their gods are failing them.

And in that collapse lies our calling. The twilight of their order is not our defeat; it is the clearing of a sky long clouded by their shadow. The Ummah’s wounds are deep, but they are not mortal. They are the scars before renewal — the kind the world will one day call the dawn.

Victory is Not an Amazon Prime Delivery

Victory (nasr) in Islam is not confined to the soul; it is both political and spiritual — iman that does not move the world was never the iman of the prophets. It is when believers remain unbroken by injustice, when they refuse to let tyranny define them, when they keep praying while the world burns. It is when a mother in Gaza buries her child and still whispers “Alhamdulillah.”

That is not submission — that is sovereignty.

And yet, from the ashes of their order, something ancient is stirring — an Ummah that never surrendered. The same people who once carried light from Andalusia to Samarkand are rediscovering their voice. Our defeat was never permanent; it was preparation.

Victory, however, is not effortless. It is not an Amazon Prime delivery, arriving neatly packaged without toil or tears. Victory demands sacrifice, commitment, and steadfastness. Those in Gaza have already begun their journey to Jannah; that leaves us to decide — are we of those who will sit in despair until victory comes, then boast about it? Or are we of those who believe in Allah’s promise and work tirelessly for it, giving our time, our effort, and our wealth for the sake of this Ummah’s return?

So let the powerful draft their plans and convene their summits. Let them argue over how to “rebuild” the land they destroyed. We know something they do not: victory is not coming from them. It is coming through us — through patience, through sacrifice, through the refusal to bow to falsehood.

When the Prophet ﷺ said, “Do not grieve; indeed, Allah is with us,” he was not comforting despair — he was declaring destiny.

And just as every prophecy of the Qur’an has come true, so too will this one: that the Ummah will rise again under a just and sincere leadership — a Khilafah rooted not in oppression but in mercy, not in fear but in iman. This is not a dream of nostalgia; it is the promise of Allah, who said:

“Allah has promised those among you who believe and do righteous deeds that He will surely grant them succession upon the earth as He granted it to those before them…”
(Qur’an 24:55)

The return of the Khilafah will not be a coronation — it will be a cleansing. The removal of corruption, the fall of tyrants, the end of the age where Muslims begged for crumbs from colonial tables. It will be the moment the Ummah stands upright again, as one body, under one purpose — to carry justice to the world as our forefathers once did.

Two years on, in every ruined street of Gaza, in every refugee camp, in every whispered dua beneath the rubble, that promise still breathes.

The promise of Allah is true — and it is near.
The darkness was never the end. It was only the moment before dawn.