We are living in a world where justice has become a point of view shaped by modern media, by what is “in,” and by how we are perceived locally, and especially internationally. It often feels as if there is someone behind the screen we must please with our statements. A quiet fear has developed: posting an image online in support “Black Lives” is seen as a call for justice accepted, validated by the world. Yet speaking about a child in Gaza dying every day, or a child in Yemen, Iraq, or Sudan, remains in the shadows.

Many may sympathize, but few will speak. Because it does not align with the current flow the rhythm dictated by the “god” of media. In the Arab world, we have, in many ways, distanced ourselves from our souls. We have proven to be exceptional in our intellect, in our professions, in our ability to build and execute but we have struggled to lead from within. This is tied to layers of religious and social complexity that, at times, position us in constant pursuit of external approval, particularly from the West.

Palestine, for some, is a central cause. For others, it is reduced to a humanitarian issue or is viewed through a lens of resentment shaped by historical and political tensions within Lebanon. Very few recognize that Palestine holds a deeper, structural place in the region.

In historical narratives when empires rise and fall under the strategy of divide and conquer there is always a city, a point on the map, that holds the fracture line of the empire itself.

From the Sykes–Picot agreement until today, divisions have been drawn, redrawn, and reinforced. And they will continue. More agreements will come. Perhaps we are no longer soldiers. Perhaps we are no longer leaders. Perhaps we have become followers participants in systems we did not shape, serving multiple empires at once.

We may be many things. But one thing is certain: we are living and serving within a profoundly unhistorical era.