Two decades of war showed that you cannot bomb an idea out of existence. Extremism is not defeated by drones or dictators, but by freedom and opportunity.

I live in New York now. Every September 11, the city grieves with quiet dignity and fierce defiance. The skyline is rebuilt, but the absence remains. You can feel it in the air. For New Yorkers, 9/11 is a wound that will never fully heal.

But 9/11 was never just about America. It was also about the Middle East, where the ideology behind those attacks was born. It grew in places crushed by totalitarian regimes and ideologies, where corruption and despair left space for extremists to thrive. The hijackers weren’t born in caves—they were born in societies where tyranny and fanaticism walked hand in hand.

America’s response was war. Afghanistan. Iraq. Twenty years of blood and treasure poured into the sand. Where I was born in Iraq, the “War on Terror” was supposed to bring freedom. Instead, it unleashed militias, deepened sectarian divides, and handed Iran unprecedented power. Extremism did not die, it evolved, returning as ISIS and Iranian militias more savage than before.

This is the lesson too few have learned: you cannot kill an idea only with bombs. What the terrorists of 9/11 feared most was not American military might, but freedom—the freedom to think, to question, and to live beyond tribe, sect, or ideology.

For two decades, America invested more in war than in dignity, more in occupation than in opportunity. And the price for that decision is still being paid in both the Middle East and in America.

To truly honor the victims of 9/11, remembrance is not enough. We must break the cycle. We must confront extremism at its roots by building societies where young people have reasons to live, not excuses to die.

9/11 was the day America woke up. But waking up is not the same as learning. Twenty-four years later, the question remains: are we still making the same mistakes?

A few days ago, I sat down with my colleague and friend, Amjad Aun, to ask one of the most difficult questions we face as people who work in and on the Middle East: Can the region ever become liberal? Not just in terms of economics, but also civil society, tolerance, and open discourse. It’s the kind of question that sounds academic and theoretical until you’ve lived under authoritarianism, seen civil war up close, or watched people die because they dared to think differently. Then it becomes very real.

I grew up in Iraq under Saddam Hussein—one of the most brutal dictatorships of the 20th century. We had two state TV channels: one controlled by Saddam himself, the other by his son. That was the extent of “choice.” After 2003, when Saddam was removed, we didn’t wake up to democracy. We woke up to chaos. Instead of one official truth, there were now dozens—many pushed by regional actors like Iran, each with their own agenda. Iraq was fractured by sectarianism, not united by pluralism. And the civil war that followed? No one even knows how many people died. Some say 100,000, others say a million. Either way, it was a disaster.

That experience shaped me—and taught me a hard truth: you can’t bomb liberalism into a country. Getting rid of a dictator doesn’t automatically lead to freedom. It just creates a vacuum. And if you’re not ready to fill that vacuum with ideas, institutions, and opportunities, someone else will—usually the people with the most guns or the worst ideology.

That’s why I started Ideas Beyond Borders. Not to sell people a political label, but to give them the tools to think for themselves. We translate works of science, philosophy, and critical thinking into Arabic. We fund startups that reflect liberal values in action. We engage young people who are tired of being told what to think and ready to ask their own questions. Our project, House of Wisdom 2.0, now reaches over 8.5 million followers in the region. That’s not a niche—it's a movement. And it’s growing.

Amjad brought an important perspective to the conversation. He’s a Syrian economist and advisor with IBB, and he put it bluntly: the soil in the Middle East isn’t yet fertile for diverse ideas. The problem isn’t just censorship—it’s that even the concept of ideological diversity is foreign to most people. When they hear the word “liberal,” they don’t think of John Stuart Mill or Adam Smith. They think of a cleric telling them liberalism will turn their kids trans and their daughters into prostitutes. That’s not a caricature—I’ve literally heard it.

One of Amjad’s points that really hit home is that people may like liberal ideas without knowing that’s what they are. Talk to someone about property rights, free enterprise, or education reform, and they’re in. Use the word “liberal,” and you lose them. So the work we do has to meet people where they are, not where we wish they were.

We talked about the Gulf states: the UAE, Qatar, Oman, and Saudi Arabia. These countries have embraced economic openness. In Dubai, you can register a business in 10 minutes. Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 is aiming to shift the kingdom away from oil and toward private-sector innovation. But the question remains: will that economic freedom lead to political freedom? My honest answer: not yet. When people become wealthier, they don’t necessarily demand democracy—they often fear losing what they have. In places like the UAE or Qatar, democracy is seen by many not as a promise, but a threat.

We also raised a controversial topic: borders. Many of the Middle East’s borders were drawn after World War I, with little regard for ethnic or sectarian realities. Iraq, Syria, Lebanon—all artificial constructs. It’s not surprising that so many of these states struggle with governance. That doesn’t mean we should redraw the map tomorrow, but it does mean we need to rethink how power is shared. Amjad made the case for decentralization—not based on ethnicity or religion, but on political logic. Federalism, not fragmentation. And I agree. The alternative is continued violence.

There was also a fair question from the audience: Can you be a devout Muslim and a classical liberal? My view is yes. In fact, most of the countries showing progress on liberal values—like Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Tunisia—are Muslim-majority. The reforms are happening not in spite of Islam, but alongside it. We’re also seeing a shift in the theological discourse. There’s no one monolithic Islam. There are many interpretations—and the dominant ones are beginning to change.

Amjad had one of my favorite lines of the whole event:

That’s the essence of liberalism. Not agreement, but coexistence.

We also talked about the collapse of U.S.-funded media projects in the region. Programs like Radio Sawa and Alhurra have been defunded or gutted. Some deserved to be. Corruption was rampant. But there’s something disturbing about watching the so-called leaders of the free world dismantle their own soft power tools while authoritarian regimes ramp up theirs. Elon Musk tweeting that U.S. global media is criminal? Not helpful.

That’s where IBB comes in. We’re not a government agency. We don’t take taxpayer money. We’re private, nimble, and—most importantly—voluntary. People engage with us because they want to. No guns. No propaganda. Just ideas.

And these ideas work. We’ve now reached over 1 billion views across our content platforms. People are hungry for alternatives. Not because we’re telling them what to think, but because they want something that actually works.

I’ll leave you with this: if liberalism can succeed in the Middle East—the most challenging region on Earth—it can succeed anywhere. That’s why we do what we do. That’s why we’ll keep doing it.

Thanks for reading. As always, your thoughts are welcome.

I recently watched Douglas Murray and Dave Smith discuss the Middle East on The Joe Rogan Experience, and I couldn’t shake a familiar frustration: once again, two men were dissecting a region they don’t speak the languages of, don’t live in, and—most crucially—don’t have to endure the fallout of their ideas.

Dave Smith brings a perspective rooted in libertarian caution. He questions America’s entanglements abroad, both good and bad. He doesn’t offer an alternative to an 80-year-old conflict; his skepticism of foreign intervention offers a welcome break from the sanctimonious certainty of Washington hawks. But even his approach remains clinical—if Israel misuses U.S. aid, then we should stop giving it. It’s a cost-benefit framework, not a moral or humane one. And while honest, that kind of detachment becomes perilous when it abstracts away millions of lives.

Douglas Murray is another matter entirely. He speaks with sweeping certainty about a civilizational clash, casting the region as a battleground between good and evil. He writes from a safe distance in the West, projecting ideological clarity over a landscape he doesn’t inhabit. Yes, he’s traveled there. But his reporting filters the region through a narrow lens. His go-to Arab voice? Mosab Hassan Yousef—a deeply fringe figure whose credibility is shaky even among Israeli intelligence. But for Murray, Yousef is useful: he parrots Murray’s worldview. That’s not honest reporting. That’s confirmation bias in brownface.

The irony—and projection—is that Douglas criticizes Joe Rogan for not presenting both sides on his podcast, yet fails to do the same on his own. He also refrains from criticizing other podcast hosts he appears with, even when they lack subject-matter expertise and are primarily comedians or musicians, so long as they echo the arguments he promotes in his books.

But this is what happens when commentary is insulated from consequence. When your children aren’t threatened by missiles, when your family won’t suffer the effects of the policies you endorse, when you can close your laptop and return to a quiet life in London or New York, your analysis floats. It may sound polished, even profound. But it’s weightless. Narratives become more important than reality.

It’s easy to say “let them sort it out” or frame the conflict as an epic cultural clash when you’re not navigating border checkpoints or explaining to your children why hope is in short supply. The voices that deserve amplification aren’t the loudest or the safest—they’re the ones shaped by lived experience in addition to expertise. The ones who have skin in the game and still believe in something better.

Here’s a truth rarely spoken on platforms like Rogan’s: Israel cannot kill all Palestinians, and Palestinians cannot kill all Israelis. While extremists on both sides fantasize about total victory or a maximalist position, a quieter, more rational shift is unfolding. Some Palestinians are beginning to understand that continued “resistance” might amount to collective suicide. Some Israelis are realizing that endless war is not a strategy—it’s a trap. These voices—still marginalized—are grounded in reality. And they need airtime.

Ironically, Tucker Carlson—hardly a representative of nuance—has aired more Arab pragmatism than Douglas Murray ever has. In interviews with Gulf leaders, Carlson showcased perspectives focused on negotiation, investment, and long-term stability. Not utopianism—strategy. Because, across the region, beyond the polemics and propaganda, there are millions who want to build futures, not just avenge the past.

My mother is a Muslim woman who lost a son. Her grief is no different than that of an Israeli or Palestinian mother. Pain doesn’t discriminate. And any worldview that dehumanizes the other is not only immoral—it’s a roadmap to ruin. That’s not sentimentality. That’s realism.

Joe Rogan has one of the most powerful platforms in the world. If he truly wants to explore the Middle East with honesty, he needs to invite voices from the region—people who live its complexity, who speak its languages, who know its costs. People who still believe in coexistence. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary.

And yes—I speak the language and have spent more than two decades working and trying to understand the region, often to my own detriment.

Which I suppose makes me more of an expert than either of them. Funny how that works.

In recent weeks, Tucker Carlson has been quietly reshaping his global image—and nowhere is this more evident than in the Middle East. From his high-profile sit-down with Saudi billionaire Prince Alwaleed bin Talal to a headline-grabbing interview with Qatar’s Prime Minister Sheikh Mohammed bin Abdulrahman Al Thani, Carlson has positioned himself as something more than a polarizing figure in American media. He’s becoming, oddly enough, a sought-after interlocutor among the Gulf’s ruling class.

The result? Carlson is no longer just America’s most controversial cable host-turned-new media powerhouse. He’s quickly becoming one of the most discussed American journalists in the Arab world.

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In the U.S., Carlson has long been cast as either a truth-telling populist or a dangerous demagogue, depending on whom you ask. But scroll through encrypted WhatsApp groups or tune into state-funded media channels in the Gulf, and you’ll find him portrayed in an entirely different light: as a rare Western journalist willing to break bread with Arab leaders and engage with their worldview on its own terms. Clips from his interviews are circulating widely across Arabic-language media, including platforms like MBC’s Al Arabiya and Al Jazeera, the region’s most influential news channels.

His growing cachet in the region was solidified by his appearance at the One Billion Summit in Dubai—a tech and business gathering attended by global elites and social media influencers, where Carlson delivered remarks to a packed house. Not bad for someone whose most recent headlines back home involve sparring with legacy media and airing iconoclastic takes on YouTube and X.

One reason for Carlson’s newfound relevance is simple: access. Gulf royals and high-ranking officials seldom appear on American television, and when they do, it’s typically in tightly controlled settings with deferential interviewers. Carlson’s approach is different. His guests—power brokers like Alwaleed bin Talal, who owns a sizable stake in media and financial institutions, or Prime Minister Al Thani, a key player in the Israel-Hamas negotiations—speak to him in a way that feels remarkably candid, at least by regional standards.

In a fractured media landscape driven by surprise and spectacle, these pairings are pure viral fodder. Few in the American right-wing media ecosystem, where Carlson remains a towering figure, are broadcasting lengthy interviews with Gulf rulers. Fewer still are giving them the room to articulate their worldview without immediate pushback or oversimplification.

Yet it’s not just the novelty factor driving these interviews’ popularity.

Since October 7, the dominant narrative on the American right regarding the Gaza war has been shaped largely by images of campus protests and culture-war skirmishes. The caricature that emerges is of a chaotic, grievance-fueled left—protesters with keffiyehs, waving radical slogans, often on Ivy League campuses that conservative America already views with deep suspicion.

But Carlson’s conversations with Gulf leaders offer a different lens: one that is sober, technocratic, and harder to dismiss. Figures like Prince Alwaleed and Prime Minister Al Thani are not university students or fringe activists. They are veteran statesmen and businessmen with billions invested in Western economies. They are polished, pragmatic, and deliver critiques of the West’s handling of the Gaza conflict in calm, strategic tones.

Their gravitas demands a different kind of attention, especially from Carlson’s audience. Suddenly, a conservative viewer in Des Moines or Dallas is watching someone in traditional Gulf attire echoing concerns about global instability, “woke culture”, Western hypocrisy, and the perceived erosion of traditional values. It resonates.

These leaders aren’t simply speaking for themselves, either. As the owners or backers of the two most influential media empires in the region—MBC Group (home to Al Arabiya) and the Al Jazeera Media Network—they help shape public opinion across the Arab world. Their messaging doesn’t just reflect the Gulf's view on Gaza and the West; it defines it.

Perhaps the most intriguing element in Carlson’s Gulf interviews is the unexpected ideological overlap. Consider Prime Minister Al Thani’s remarks on the importance of family and social cohesion. His rejection of Western-style cultural and excessive liberalism struck a familiar chord with Carlson’s base.

Tradition, hierarchy, skepticism of social progressivism, and an emphasis on national and religious identity—these are pillars of both Gulf state conservatism and the MAGA-aligned American right. It’s a transnational affinity that has long existed under the radar but is now surfacing more publicly.

This paradoxical alignment isn’t new. During the Cold War, many Muslim-majority states allied with the United States against the Soviet Union, deploying arguments that would be instantly recognizable to members of the American Christian right. Pakistan, for example, justified its alignment with the West through anti-communist and religious frameworks that dovetailed with those of Ronald Reagan’s Washington.

But in a post-9/11, post-October 7 world, this alignment is complicated within segments of the American right, where “Judeo-Christian values” are sometimes defined in direct opposition to Islam and the Arab world writ large. Carlson’s interviews implicitly challenge that binary by foregrounding Muslim leaders who share priorities with American conservatives—from skepticism of “woke” culture to calls for global stability rooted in tradition.

Of course, much depends on where you stand. As someone who grew up in Iraq—where Iranian-backed militias now wield enormous influence—I’m naturally wary of analyses that underplay Iran’s ambitions. For Qatar, with its economic interdependence with Tehran, the threat is perceived differently in Doha than it is in Baghdad or Erbil.

This divergence reveals a crucial point: Carlson’s guests represent a subset of the region’s elite, not the full spectrum of Middle Eastern perspectives. Their voices are essential, but they’re not the only ones.

Carlson’s sudden status as the American face of Gulf diplomacy should raise important questions for conservatives and liberals alike. Why is this space being ceded to a single, polarizing figure? Why aren’t more American journalists, policymakers, or intellectuals engaging directly with regional leaders—not just dissidents or Western-facing reformers?

The Middle East is not simply a stage for America’s foreign policy anxieties or a backdrop for ideological posturing. It is a region of immense complexity, where conservatism, liberalism, nationalism, and pragmatism coexist in often surprising ways. And for all the discomfort this may provoke in some corners of the American commentariat, Carlson is tapping into a real and growing convergence of interests between elements of the American right and Gulf leadership.

Those interested in understanding the future of U.S.-Middle East relations—whether they view Carlson as a hero or a threat—would do well to pay closer attention.

Because, like it or not, these conversations are just beginning.

In an era where "America First" dominates political discourse, the idea of focusing on issues beyond U.S. borders may seem misplaced. However, disregarding the Middle East comes at a cost—one that affects American wallets, national security, and global influence. Caring about the Middle East isn’t about charity. It’s in America’s best interest to pay close attention to the region.

While the U.S. has increased domestic energy production, the global market remains highly dependent on Middle Eastern oil. Any instability in the region can cause energy prices to spike, affecting the cost of gasoline, goods transportation, and household essentials. The global supply chain is also directly tied to critical Middle Eastern trade routes. The Suez Canal facilitates 12% of global trade, and the Strait of Hormuz, through which nearly a third of the world's seaborne oil passes, are vital chokepoints. Disruptions in these corridors can trigger economic consequences far beyond the region. If you think supply chain issues caused by a pandemic were bad, imagine a full-blown crisis in the Middle East shutting down these vital shipping lanes.

You don’t have to care about refugees to recognize the costs of mass migration. Every war, failed state, or economic collapse in the Middle East sends waves of refugees into Europe. When that happens, the political and economic effects ripple outward, including into the United States. The last major refugee crisis led to political upheavals across Europe, straining international relations and increasing pressure on the U.S. to respond. Proactively investing in stability abroad is not just a humanitarian measure—it is a strategic and cost-effective move that prevents larger crises down the road. The more cost-effective approach is to invest in stability abroad before problems reach American shores. As I often say, the Middle East is the opposite of Las Vegas—what happens in the Middle East doesn’t stay there.

America has spent trillions on wars and military operations in the Middle East. However, the reality that often goes unnoticed is that investing in economic development abroad is cheaper than deploying troops or building border defenses to manage the fallout from chaos. The cost of creating a job in the region—through trade, infrastructure, and industry investments—is a fraction of what America spends on military bases, airstrikes, and refugee resettlement programs. Helping people build businesses in their own countries keeps them from becoming refugees in the first place.

Iran is marching closer toward nuclear capability. If or when that happens, the consequences will go far beyond the Middle East. A nuclear-armed Iran means a nuclear arms race in the region, with Saudi Arabia and possibly Turkey following suit. The more nuclear weapons in unstable parts of the world, the higher the chance of conflict spilling beyond the region. And let’s be clear: an empowered Iran doesn’t just threaten the Middle East. It also strengthens anti-American forces, funds terror groups, and challenges U.S. interests worldwide. Addressing these threats through diplomatic engagement and strategic alliances is essential to maintaining global stability.

The Middle East is undergoing a significant transformation. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and other Gulf states are investing heavily in technology, infrastructure, and tourism, positioning themselves as economic hubs. Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman envisions the region as "the new Europe," signaling a shift from a conflict-ridden past to a future centered on innovation and business. American businesses and investors stand to gain from these developments, but disengagement could cede these opportunities to global competitors such as China and Russia.

U.S. based Christians have yet another angle to consider. Christianity is disappearing from the lands where it was born. The Christian populations in Iraq, Syria, and even parts of Palestine have been devastated by war, persecution, and economic collapse. In a few decades, the biblical heartlands may be Christian in history only. If the Middle East turns into an ungovernable battlefield between extremists and authoritarian regimes, the last remaining Christian communities will vanish. If that matters to you, ignoring the Middle East isn’t an option. For those who value religious heritage and cultural preservation, this is another reason to stay engaged.

Ignoring the Middle East does not insulate America from its problems—it amplifies them when they inevitably reach U.S. shores.

Isolationism may seem appealing, but global leadership requires engagement. This is about dollars and security, not just morality. Keeping the region stable is cheaper than dealing with the consequences of letting it burn. America has an opportunity to be part of the Middle East’s transformation. The region is shifting from a perpetual conflict zone to an emerging economic powerhouse. The U.S. can either engage with it and benefit from that change or sit back and watch as others—China, Russia—eagerly fill the vacuum. If "America First" is the priority, then strategic involvement—not retreat—is the path forward.

The new Syrian government just failed its first real test. No one expected Iran to sit idly by—it was always going to push sectarian tensions. Those tensions have existed for decades, but the way the new leadership handled this crisis exposed its real problem: a complete lack of strategy. Instead of proving it can lead, it’s already falling into the same traps that have kept Syria weak and divided.

One of the biggest red flags is the presence of foreign fighters in the military. Reports indicate that groups from Central Asia and elsewhere are now part of Syria’s security forces. This isn’t just a minor issue—it’s a direct challenge to Syrian sovereignty. A country trying to rebuild after years of war cannot afford to outsource its security to foreign mercenaries or ideological proxies. This is how Syria turns into a battleground for regional powers instead of reclaiming control over its own future.

We’ve seen this play out before. Iraq’s De-Ba’athification in the early 2000s wiped out experienced military and political officials, creating a vacuum that led to insurgency, civil war, and, eventually, ISIS. The lesson was clear: when you purge an entire system without integrating key figures into the new order, you don’t get stability—you get chaos. Syria is repeating that mistake right now. Instead of ensuring that former military officials—especially top officers—are brought into the fold, they’re being sidelined. That’s a recipe for resentment, fragmentation, and another round of conflict.

If the new leadership wants to govern rather than just survive, it needs to act fast. First, kick out the foreign fighters. The Syrian military should be Syrian, full stop. Second, integrate former regime officials and minority leaders into real positions of power—not just as a token gesture but in ways that actually give them influence. Stability isn’t about empty slogans; it’s about ensuring that everyone with a stake in the country’s future has a seat at the table.

A lot of forces in the region want Syria to fail. The new leadership needs to wake up to that reality. This isn’t the time for self-congratulatory interviews with video bloggers. It’s time to do the hard work—building institutions, securing the country, and preventing the same cycle of disaster that has already played out across the region. If they don’t, they won’t just be another failed government. They’ll be the ones who had a chance to fix Syria and blew it.

President Trump and Israel wasted no time rejecting the latest Arab proposal for Gaza. The plan, which calls for a new "technocratic" leadership composed of non-Hamas politicians, was dismissed outright for one key reason: it doesn’t include disarmament of Hamas. Apparently, that’s a dealbreaker.

But is it really? I have a few theories.

First, everyone knows Hamas isn’t about to hand over its weapons and call it a day. That means someone has to take them away—by force. But who? If it’s Egypt, that would mean Arabs killing other Arabs, which, despite what some might say, isn’t quite the same as the sectarian bloodshed of Iraq, Syria, or Libya. Those conflicts are messy, deeply rooted in identity politics and power struggles. But an Egyptian soldier gunning down a Palestinian in the name of "stability" would be viewed across the region as outright betrayal. Cairo knows this, which is why they’d rather keep their troops on their side of the border and let someone else figure it out.

Then there’s the issue of opposition—or, more accurately, the lack of it. Hamas has ruled Gaza for over a decade, and from what I’ve heard from Palestinians who recently escaped, there isn’t much room for dissent. They’ve jailed, exiled, or outright eliminated anyone who challenges them. This aligns with what we already know: in places like Lebanon or Iraq, you can find countless people openly cursing Hezbollah or Iran’s influence. In Gaza? Not so much. It’s not that people don’t have grievances—it’s that the cost of voicing them is far higher.

Part of the problem is that for many Palestinians, the very definition of being "pro-Palestinian" has been shaped by a culture of resistance. Whether it’s religious (Hamas) or secular (PFLP and other factions), armed struggle has been baked into the narrative. In Lebanon or Iraq, one can argue they oppose foreign influence for the sake of their own country. A Palestinian saying they oppose Hamas? That’s dangerously close to being labeled a traitor.

And even if we ignore the fear factor, let’s be honest—Hamas isn’t some fringe group. There’s no reliable polling in Gaza, but given their longevity and control, it’s safe to assume they have a solid base of support. This, of course, doesn't justify collective punishment.

A similar argument can be made about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The majority of Russians might support it, but that doesn’t mean every Russian civilian deserves to be a target. The point is, pretending Hamas is just a rogue militia without any grassroots backing is wishful thinking.

Where things get particularly interesting is the strategic divide between Israel, the U.S., and Arab states. Arab leaders still believe that a Palestinian state would weaken groups like Hamas and reduce radicalization. Israel, on the other hand, sees it as a reward for terrorism. And after October 7th, public support inside Israel for any Palestinian state is minimal, with just 27% in support of a two-state solution. The Arab states, meanwhile, just want to stop waking up to headlines and videos of dead Palestinians. Not just because of moral outrage, but because those images radicalize their own populations. No leader wants to be accused of cowardice or complicity, and no monarchy wants to risk another Arab Spring-level uprising. That’s why Saudi Arabia has made it clear: no normalization with Israel unless Palestinians get a state. Monarchies may not be democratic in the liberal sense, but their survival depends on maintaining their legitimacy.

The bigger problem is that when no reasonable solutions exist, the bad and maximalist ones gain traction. The longer this drags on, the more radical ideas will seem like the only way forward. Extremist ideologies flourish in a vacuum; without an alternative vision, they will always appear as the only viable option. This is why the Trump administration, always keen on a high-profile deal, may try to force something through—but without a strategy beyond optics, it will likely crumble the moment the cameras turn off.

So where does that leave us? For starters, there has to be a real alternative to Hamas in Gaza, and not just in exile. Right now, anyone opposed to Hamas has either fled Gaza or is keeping their mouth shut. That needs to change. Civil society groups, independent media, and political voices that reject extremism and corruption need to be supported—not just rhetorically, but with real investment. Give people a reason to believe in something other than armed struggle, and maybe—just maybe—that belief will start to take root.

The Arab world, for its part, needs to stop treating the Palestinian issue like a fire that can be contained. Every time there’s a new war, a new wave of radicalization follows. Instead of just condemning Israel, Arab states should take an active role in fostering credible Palestinian leadership. That could mean backing new political entities, using economic incentives to push for gradual demilitarization, or—dare I say it—acknowledging that simply throwing money at the problem hasn’t worked.

And just as the world worked to counter ISIS propaganda, there needs to be a real effort to challenge Hamas’ ideological grip. Right now, they control the narrative, and anyone who dissents risks their life. That has to change. Alternative media and online campaigns aimed at shifting the discourse could make a real difference. Ideas shape reality, and for too long, the only idea that’s had oxygen in Gaza is that resistance—violent or otherwise—is the only way forward.

Rejecting the Arab proposal outright without offering a roadmap ensures one thing: the cycle will continue. Israel and the U.S. can dismiss it, but without a long-term strategy, they’re just delaying the inevitable—more war, more radicalization, and eventually, an even worse alternative to Hamas emerging. At some point, someone has to break the pattern. The real question is, who will step up to do it?

The United States entered Iraq in 2003 with sweeping ambitions: to topple a dictator, establish democracy, and usher in an era of stability. It was a mission backed by billions of dollars in aid, military training programs, and institutional reforms. Yet today, more than two decades later, Iraq remains a fragmented state plagued by sectarianism, corruption, and foreign influence.

As someone who lived through this transformation, I saw firsthand how American intervention—despite its promises—failed to deliver sustainable democracy. The reality is that democracy cannot be imposed from above, and foreign aid absent accountability fosters long-term dependency rather than reliable self-governance.

The fundamental flaw in U.S. intervention was the naïve belief that democracy could be implanted through military force and financial assistance. Iraqis were expected to embrace democratic governance immediately after the fall of Saddam Hussein, yet they had little to no prior experience with political pluralism. Many had only known dictatorship, and the sudden dismantling of state institutions—most notably the military and Ba’ath Party—created a power vacuum. The result was chaos, not freedom.

Worse, the United States ignored local realities. Billions were poured into reconstruction, but much of it was lost to corruption and inefficiency. Schools were built without teachers. Electricity grids were repaired but never stabilized. Contractors prioritized profits over impact, while institutions meant to provide governance were often run by warlords and sectarian militias hailing from Iran rather than competent administrators.

Rather than fostering a stable democracy, U.S. policy left Iraq vulnerable to foreign exploitation. As American influence waned, Iranian-backed militias seized control, turning Iraq into a proxy battleground. The very forces that the U.S. sought to neutralize—extremist groups, sectarian militias, and corrupt power brokers—became the dominant players in the new Iraq.

The shift in U.S. strategy from democratization to counterterrorism only reinforced these dynamics. The fight against ISIS became the primary focus, sidelining efforts to build a functional state. Meanwhile, aid programs continued, but instead of promoting independence, they created a cycle of reliance that benefited entrenched elites more than ordinary Iraqis.

The core problem with U.S. aid and intervention is a misplaced belief that progress can be engineered externally. Iraq serves as a case study of why imposed democracy fails. Without strong institutions, a culture of accountability, and a political system that values national identity over sectarian loyalty, elections alone do not translate to democracy.

Real change in Iraq has not come from foreign programs, but from grassroots movements. The most significant challenges to corruption and sectarianism have come from young Iraqis demanding accountability—not from Washington-led initiatives. If the U.S. truly wants to support democracy abroad, it must stop trying to manufacture it and instead empower local voices willing to fight for it themselves. The failure of U.S. intervention in Iraq is not just a policy misstep; it is a fundamental lesson in the limits of foreign influence. The American approach to nation-building was rooted in optimism but lacked realism. Iraq’s story proves that democracy cannot be exported—it must be built from within.

For policymakers, aid organizations, and international development experts, the question is not whether the U.S. should engage in global affairs, but how it should do so. The first step is humility: recognizing that lasting political change cannot be dictated from abroad. Instead of imposing top-down solutions, the U.S. must listen to the people on the ground, understanding their struggles, aspirations, and ideas for reform.

Iraq’s experience should serve as a warning: interventions without deep cultural and political understanding do more harm than good. If America truly wants to promote democracy worldwide, it must first accept that democracy is not a gift to be given—it is a struggle that must be won by those who seek it.

It comes as no surprise to seasoned observers of the region that Ahmed al-Sharaa has declared himself the new president of Syria. In a political landscape defined by force, patronage, and survival, power is not won through democratic elections or diplomatic negotiations. It is seized. Politics in the Middle East is not a measured game of strategic maneuvering akin to three-dimensional chess; it is Russian roulette, where a single opportunity, a single decision, and often sheer ruthlessness determine survival.

Historically, the winner takes all. Compromise is rare, and when it does occur, it is more of a pause than a resolution—a momentary equilibrium before the next inevitable power struggle. This is how it has always been and, unless something profoundly disrupts the entrenched order, how it will always be.

Sharaa’s ascent is not an anomaly but a textbook case of power consolidation in the Middle East. His rise was not due to ideology or foreign endorsement—but to his ability to navigate a battlefield where allegiances shift like desert sands. By maneuvering between various militant factions, co-opting or neutralizing rivals, and exploiting geopolitical openings, he managed to unite disparate groups under his command. In the brutal arithmetic of warlords and revolutionaries, those who consolidate power survive. Those who fail, perish.

To the Western world, Syria’s future may appear uncertain, a murky scene of competing factions and potential outcomes. But to those familiar with the region’s history, the conclusion is clear: the winner is the one who remains standing. The alternatives—exile, irrelevance, or death—await those who fail to grasp this fundamental reality.

Western policymakers often frame political transitions in ideological terms—democracy, human rights, governance. In the Middle East, the calculus is far simpler: who commands the guns, who secures the backing of regional power brokers, who controls the cities, and who earns the loyalty of those who enforce order. This reality is neither pleasant nor palatable to those who advocate for democratic norms, but it is the reality nonetheless.

Some will point to historical parallels—the return of Ayatollah Khomeini to Iran, the post-2003 Iraqi leadership installed by U.S. intervention. But these examples reveal a deeper truth: legitimacy is not granted by foreign patrons or ideological narratives. It is earned on the ground, through struggle, through force, through an undeniable claim to power that only those who have fought for it can wield. The Iraqi politicians who returned under the protection of U.S. forces never commanded true legitimacy in the eyes of their own people; they were seen as interlopers, proxies for foreign interests. They had not bled for their power, so they had no real claim to it.

The same fate awaits those who fail to consolidate their hold in Syria. Time and again, Western policymakers have placed faith in power-sharing agreements and negotiated settlements, only to watch them unravel in the face of more ruthless realities. The notion that power in Syria—or in any comparable conflict zone—can be divided among factions in a lasting way ignores the lessons of history. Power is not shared; it is wielded. Then it’s defended with force.

Sharaa understands this de facto law. His claim to power is not based on elections or consensus, but on survival, on his ability to outmaneuver, outlast, and outfight his rivals. For those watching from afar, the choices are simple: acknowledge reality or remain wedded to delusions. The world can either recognize the new power structures emerging in Syria or cling to outdated notions of what governance should look like in theory. But reality does not wait for sentiment.

Ahmed al-Sharaa has done what others failed to do—he has endured, he has conquered, and for now, Syria is his. To some observers, his path was neither democratic nor just, but it was effective. And in the Middle East, effectiveness is what ultimately determines the future. The question is not whether the world approves, but how it chooses to engage. Because history has shown, time and again, that in this part of the world, the winner takes all.

If you thought Trump’s first term was a geopolitical rollercoaster, buckle up—his second term might be even wilder. The man who brought us “fire and fury” diplomacy, took out Qassem Soleimani and Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi-like items on a to-do list, and referred to the Middle East as a “bloody sandpit” is likely making a comeback. And when he does, the Middle East won’t be at the top of his priorities—but it sure as hell won’t escape his wrath either.

As I and many others have said before: the Middle East is the opposite of Las Vegas—what happens in the Middle East doesn’t stay in the Middle East.

Trump has always been fixated on China (or at least he used to be), seeing it as America’s real challenge. But he also has other pressing matters to deal with—how much money European countries contribute to NATO, illegal immigration from Latin America, or making Canada the 51st state, to name a few. The Middle East, by contrast, is an annoying distraction, a headache he’d rather not deal with if he doesn’t have to. If he had it his way, he’d slap a “No More Wars” sign on the region, sell some arms to whoever’s buying, and move on. But the reality, much like a Mar-a-Lago classified document stash, is messy. Some problems—Iran, ISIS, and their proxies—simply refuse to go away.

Trump sees Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and ISIS as the same kind of problem—forces that threaten U.S. interests and need to be dealt with. He is, after all, the only U.S. president who has assassinated both the world’s most wanted terrorist and Iran’s most powerful general. If his first term is any indicator, he will continue to view ISIS and Iranian-backed militias not as separate threats, but as two sides of the same coin.

His “maximum pressure” campaign against Iran nearly crippled Tehran’s economy with brutal sanctions. We can expect a maximum pressure 2.0—but with maybe fewer guardrails.

The Iran he is dealing with now is in a different place than he left it in 2020.

Several key figures will likely shape Trump’s Middle East strategy, and they are not known for their restraint. Marco Rubio and Michael Waltz are two names to watch. Rubio, an Iran hawk and potential Secretary of State, also supports crushing Iranian influence. Meanwhile, Waltz, a likely National Security Adviser, has been pushing the PUNISH Act—a direct response to Iran’s attempts to assassinate dissidents on U.S. soil. He’s not the type to forget or forgive, and his approach to Iran will likely be as aggressive as possible. Together, these figures would ensure that a second Trump term might mean finishing the job, leading to the demise of the Iranian regime.

A key question for Trump’s second term is Iraq’s future. From my conversations with U.S. think tankers and officials, Washington sees Iraq as an extension of the Iran problem rather than a standalone issue. The belief is that Iraq is essentially an Iranian colony, controlled by Tehran’s proxies and used as a launchpad for regional influence. However, within Washington, there are two competing schools of thought on what to do next.

The Regime Change School believes the only way to solve the Iran problem is to topple the regime in Tehran. If Iran collapses, its influence in Iraq and the region would naturally crumble. However, Trump has never been a fan of direct regime change through military intervention. While he would likely celebrate an Iranian revolution, he has always been wary of committing U.S. forces to make it happen.

The Better the Devil You Know School argues that Iran’s security state is already compromised. They see recent assassinations—like that of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh—as evidence that Tehran’s internal security is fractured. Instead of pushing for outright regime change, this group believes the U.S. should exploit Iran’s internal weaknesses and ensure its leadership remains weak and divided. Their thinking is simple: better to manipulate a struggling enemy than risk complete collapse and the unknown consequences that follow.

Regardless of which approach wins out, Iraq’s fate is tied to Iran’s. Iran-backed militias in Iraq are a problem, but they are not Hezbollah. They don’t have the same strategic value to the U.S. or Israel. They are disruptive, but not an existential threat. This means a Trump administration will likely focus on Iran first, treating Iraqi militias as a secondary concern that will weaken on its own if Iran does.

When Trump returns, his first 100 days will almost certainly focus on Iran—not its proxies. If Iran-backed militias in Iraq keep a low profile, they might avoid U.S. retaliation (as some groups did in Syria). But if they escalate, they will face airstrikes, sanctions, and targeted assassinations as a warning. Meanwhile, some in Washington speculate that Iraq’s political trajectory could mirror Lebanon’s, where Iranian-backed factions recently suffered electoral losses due to rising opposition. If Iran weakens further, a similar shift could happen in Iraq.

I am cautiously optimistic about these developments. While a second Trump term could bring more decisive action against Iran, it could also trigger unintended consequences that further destabilize the region. Some might see Trump’s approach as reckless, but others would argue that his unpredictability and willingness to take bold action are exactly what’s needed to shake up a decades-old status quo that has left the region in crisis.

Another major geopolitical gamble will be whether Trump can persuade Mohammed bin Salman (MBS) to officially bring Saudi Arabia into the Abraham Accords. From an Arab geopolitical perspective, this is nothing short of political suicide. Israel remains deeply unpopular across the Arab world, and normalization with Riyadh could ignite a wave of domestic unrest that might even threaten MBS’s grip on power. For all his pragmatism, the Crown Prince rules a country where public opinion on Palestine is overwhelmingly hostile toward Israel. Even in Gulf states, there are limits to how much a leader can push against public sentiment. The Arab Spring was proof of that.

But here’s the paradox—if there’s one person who could make such an impossible deal happen, it’s Trump. He has an uncanny ability to make unlikely deals and is the only U.S. president who managed to get Morocco and Sudan to sign the Abraham Accords. His force-of-personality diplomacy—part salesmanship, part brinkmanship—could convince MBS that normalization with Israel won’t be the political death sentence many assume.

And, in an odd twist of fate, perhaps it won’t be as catastrophic as expected. The Arab world has spent decades playing it “safe” with anti-Israel rhetoric while stagnating politically and economically. Maybe “normal” hasn’t worked, and a Trump-led geopolitical shake-up is needed to force a new regional reality. Of course, it could backfire spectacularly and create instability on a level that makes the Arab Spring look like a minor political scuffle. But in Trump’s world, high-risk, high-reward is the only way to play.

Trump’s first term was like an action movie—high-stakes, unpredictable, and what some might think of as reckless. His second term? Think of it as the sequel. The real question is whether the Middle East finally gets a resolution or just another cliffhanger. Either way, I’ll be meeting with key U.S. officials next week to gather exclusive insights into how they see Trump’s potential Middle East policy shaping up. Stay tuned—it’s about to get interesting.

For those of us who grew up in neighboring Iraq, Syria was our summer destination, a place to escape extreme weather and challenging circumstances. My last trip to Syria was in 2007, and I hope to return one day to see the beautiful mountains of Qasioun, enjoy the beaches of Latakia, and stroll through the stunning streets of Damascus. My interest in Syria is not just about a shared past but also about a shared future.

Iraq shares a long border with Syria, and what happens there profoundly affects the country and its people—both positively and negatively. Both nations were ruled by the Baath party, which had its own rivalries in the 1980s and 1990s that affected their relationships. Following the fall of Iraq’s Baath party after the U.S. invasion, Assad played a major role in undermining Iraq's democratic experiment, as evidenced by ISIS's rise and the refugee crisis caused by Syria’s civil war. Assad also became a tool for strengthening Iran’s influence, which, unfortunately, continues to dominate large parts of Iraq, including its government.

This is not an article about Iraq, however. It is about Syria and the critical lessons we must heed as it begins its post-Assad era recovery. Chief among these lessons is the danger of rushed elections.

One key proposal on the table is delaying national elections for up to four years—a suggestion that has drawn mixed reactions. However, this idea merits serious consideration. Iraq’s experience after the 2003 invasion serves as a cautionary tale. Early elections entrenched sectarian divisions and empowered political actors who exploited the fragile environment for personal and factional gain. The consequences of those hasty decisions continue to haunt Iraq today. Iran capitalized on the vacuum, funding its candidates—the only ones organized after decades of Baathist oppression—and enabling them to win.

Syria must avoid repeating this mistake. Post-conflict societies need time to heal, rebuild, and lay the foundation for sustainable governance. Holding elections prematurely risks exacerbating tensions and undermining the legitimacy of any new government. A transitional period focused on stabilization, reconciliation, and institution-building is essential before the Syrian people can confidently exercise their political rights.

Another important point is that early elections often prompt people to organize along sectarian and ethnic lines rather than focusing on performance. Political parties tend to promote sectarianism, presenting themselves as the “defenders” of their respective sects.

As for expectations, especially for Western audiences or those with a surface-level understanding of Syria and the region, it is unrealistic to expect Syria to transform into a secular liberal democracy in the near or even foreseeable future. This is not a dismissal of the Syrian people’s potential but an acknowledgment of their society’s realities. Syria is relatively socially conservative, except in some major cities, and its social fabric does not currently align with Western-style democratic ideals. Even in established democracies, figures embodying Thomas Jefferson’s ideals would struggle to garner widespread support in today’s political climate. How, then, could such a figure thrive in Syria?

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This is not about lowering expectations but about adapting goals to Syria’s specific circumstances. A more achievable vision might resemble the Gulf states' focus on economic growth, infrastructure development, and technological advancement, coupled with gradual reforms in governance. While this model has its limitations, it offers Syria a pathway toward stability and prosperity. Transforming Syria from a nation that generates refugees into one that attracts investment and tourism would be a remarkable success.

Unlike the Gulf states, however, Syria has both the blessing and curse of diversity. Not all Syrians are Arabs, identify as Arabs, or consider themselves part of the Muslim world. Syria is not a homogeneous society like many Gulf countries. There is the Kurdish question, the Druze question, the Alawite question, the Christian question, and so forth. The Assad regime exploited sectarianism for survival, pitting minorities against majorities and fostering hate and division. We are witnessing the destruction of the myth of a secular Assad, just as we saw with the “secular” Saddam.

While some envision a centralized Syrian state, the reality may call for a more decentralized approach. Kurdish areas could adopt a model of semi-autonomy, akin to the Kurdish Regional Government in Iraq but tailored to Syria’s unique context. Semi-autonomous zones could provide a blueprint for managing Syria’s diversity. Similar models could be applied to Druze and other areas, allowing communities to implement governance systems that work for them. This approach should not rely solely on ethnic or religious divisions, as such delineations can exacerbate divisions. Instead, governance could be organized around economic and social considerations.

Syria could learn a lot from the decentralization reforms implemented in Ukraine, as highlighted in an article by my friend Jennifer Brick Murtazashvili.

A thriving civil society is the backbone of any stable nation, but it cannot be imported or imposed. Syria’s civil society must emerge from within, driven by those who have lived through the country’s devastation and understand its complexities. Wealthy Syrians, both inside the country and in the diaspora, have a critical role to play. Their investment in grassroots initiatives can help foster a civil society that is authentic, adaptive, and resilient. I am already hearing of such efforts by Dr. Mazen Derawan and others, which gives me a lot of hope.

Western nations also have a role to play, but their support should move away from traditional aid systems that often breed corruption and dependency. Instead, resources should focus on fostering entrepreneurship and supporting small businesses—giving power to the people rather than making them dependent on grant officers with no skin in the game. Startups, local enterprises, and innovative initiatives are better equipped to rebuild trust and create sustainable economic opportunities.

In a fragmented society like Syria, prosperity can bridge divides in ways ideology cannot. A stable economy provides opportunities for all citizens, reducing the appeal of sectarianism and extremism. Economic recovery is not just a goal; it is a necessity for national unity. Investment in infrastructure, agriculture, and industry can lay the foundation for long-term growth. Tourism, once a cornerstone of Syria’s economy, could be revived to showcase the country’s rich history and culture. By creating jobs and fostering a sense of shared purpose, economic development can help heal the wounds of war and bring Syrians together.

Western nations must approach Syria with humility and pragmatism. The era of imposing ideological solutions has passed; what Syria needs now is empowerment, not prescription. Funding should prioritize initiatives that enable Syrians to take control of their future. Supporting entrepreneurs, fostering innovation, and providing access to capital are far more effective strategies than perpetuating dependency on external aid.

By investing in people and businesses, the international community can help create a foundation for Syria’s recovery that is both sustainable and inclusive. This approach not only respects Syria’s sovereignty but also aligns with the long-term interests of regional and global stability.

Syria’s path forward will not be easy, but it is not without hope. Delaying elections, embracing localized governance, fostering grassroots civil society, and prioritizing economic recovery offer a pragmatic framework for rebuilding the nation. This vision may fall short of the idealized dreams of liberal democracy, but it represents a realistic and achievable path toward stability and prosperity.

Syria does not need to mimic other nations’ journeys; it must chart its own course. By focusing on what is possible and empowering Syrians to rebuild their country on their own terms, the world can help Syria emerge from the ashes as a united, more prosperous nation.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

My name is Faisal Saeed Al Mutar. I am originally from Iraq, and I am the Founder and President of the global organization Ideas Beyond Borders, with Offices in New York, Dubai, and Erbil in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq. 

The Middle East finds itself in a continuous cycle of missed opportunities.

The world watched the Tishreen Movement in Iraq, the Woman, Life, Freedom movement in Iran, the 17 October Revolution in Lebanon, and others—in silence.

At this moment, Hezbollah is at its weakest in Lebanon in more than a decade. Ayatollah Sistani—who, unlike Ayatollah Khamenei, has called for dismantling militias and strengthening the state in Iraq—offers a unique opening. It’s time to seize this moment, and I urge the German Parliament to consider the following recommendations:

1. Strengthen State Institutions: A normal, functioning country requires a state in control of its territory. This means providing conditional support to states like Iraq and Lebanon, with clear expectations for enforcing the rule of law. Militaries in these countries must operate independently of sectarian agendas, and sanctions should target militias and army officials acting as foreign agents, particularly those serving the Islamic Republic of Iran. That includes enforcing UN Security Resolution 1559, adopted on September 2, 2004. This resolution specifically calls for:

• The disarmament of all Lebanese and non-Lebanese militias in Lebanon 

• The extension of the Lebanese government's control over all Lebanese territory

At worst, UN Security Resolution 1701 pushes Hezbollah beyond the Litani River.

2. Support Independent Civil Society: There’s a well-known truth: no democracy can thrive without a robust civil society. However, civil society must remain independent and free from manipulation by political parties. Particular focus should be on fostering liberal organizations that advance human rights, secular ideals, and democratic values.

3. Bolster Liberal Media Outlets: The German government has already made strides through Deutsche Welle by amplifying liberal voices. Yet, Germany could take a step further by supporting local media channels that promote these values, helping them build sustainable, locally funded platforms rather than relying solely on external aid. This empowers people to shape their own narratives and futures.

4. Strengthen the Private Sector: There is no liberal society without a vibrant private sector. Entrepreneurship isn’t just about wealth—it’s about agency, dignity, and reducing brain drain so people can stay and thrive in their countries rather than becoming refugees. In our work, we have created more than 35,000 jobs, exceeding World Bank projects that might create only a fraction of that. People in the region should be viewed as partners, not contractors.

5. Implement Accountability in Aid Programs: Aid programs in the region need reform, if not dismantling. According to The Guardian, at least 1.5 billion pounds have been lost to corruption in Iraq alone. Redirecting funds directly to private sector companies would foster growth and stability rather than establishing a global welfare state. This benefits both Germany and the Middle East by building lasting, accountable partnerships.

6. Support Liberal Political Parties: The values of free markets, free speech, and human rights built Europe, and they can build the Middle East too. Supporting political movements grounded in these values is essential. Let’s take voices like Dr. Saleh Al Mashnouq's, for example. Dr. Mashnouq is a prominent Lebanese political figure and intellectual who is regularly quoted in Lebanese and regional media. He is known for his direct approach and social media savvy. Dr. Mashnouq, along with other Lebanese thinkers and activists, has long upheld the idea that Lebanon's prosperity lies in unity, democracy, and the return to its identity as a neutral state, free from foreign interference and internal strife. He has articulated these sentiments well, and people trust him.

7. Finally, Ensure Free and Uncensored Internet Access: In times of protest, many Middle Eastern governments have shut down Internet access, stifling the voices of their people and obstructing the organization of civil society. I urge Germany to support initiatives that provide resilient internet access, such as satellite-based solutions, to ensure people can communicate freely and access uncensored information. A free and open internet is essential for any healthy democracy and for empowering citizens to exercise their rights, especially in times of crisis. 

Thank you for the opportunity.

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Lebanon was once regarded as the "Switzerland of the Middle East." The country has long been admired for its vibrant culture, rich history, and geographical beauty. Yet, in recent decades, the country has faced growing political, social, and economic instability, much of it fueled by internal divisions and external pressures. For Lebanon to become a symbol of success, tourism, and economic development again, we must explore solutions that rise above sectarianism and foreign agendas. If Lebanon can break free from the cycle of being used as a pawn in other countries’ wars and break free from Hezbollah’s weakening grip—it has a chance to change its future and, by extension, the future of the region due to its cultural and entrepreneurial influence.

The solution for Lebanon lies in the hands of those who care about the country’s future. These are individuals and groups not motivated by sectarian interests or driven by the military ambitions of countries like Iran and Israel. Instead, they are people with a vision for a truly sovereign Lebanon—one that integrates itself back into the region as a peaceful nation, capable of fostering economic growth and tourism without posing a threat to any of its neighbors. This change has to come from within. The lessons of the Iraq war and subsequent conflicts have made it painfully clear that we cannot bomb freedom and democracy into countries. They have to want it and see it come to fruition for themselves; the good news is, so many Lebanese people believe in that vision.

Let’s take voices like Dr. Saleh Al Mashnouq's, for example. Dr. Mashnouq is a prominent Lebanese political figure and intellectual who is regularly quoted in Lebanese and regional media. He is known for his direct approach and social media savvy. Dr. Mashnouq, along with other Lebanese thinkers and activists, has long upheld the idea that Lebanon's prosperity lies in unity, democracy, and the return to its identity as a neutral state, free from foreign interference and internal strife. He has articulated these sentiments well, and people trust him. 

Ronnie Chatah, whose father was killed in a car bombing attributed to Hezbollah, wrote an article in the wake of the leader of the terror group’s elimination titled, "Hassan Nasrallah: The Killing of a Killer" in New Lines Magazine. Chatah reflects on Lebanon's tumultuous history under Hezbollah’s dominance and the impact of its leader, Hassan Nasrallah. Chatah criticizes Nasrallah for subordinating Lebanon to external powers, especially Iran, and reflects on the violence that has shaped Lebanon, including the assassination of his father, Mohamad Chatah. The piece culminated with the announcement of Nasrallah's death, reflecting on Lebanon's unresolved wounds and continued sacrifices.

Chatah has often mentioned in frequent interviews that "Lebanon needs a new generation of leaders, untainted by warlordism and corruption, to break free from the past." He is a rising star both in Lebanese and international media.

The Lebanese people have seen firsthand the devastation caused by allowing the country to be used as a pawn by regional powers. Hezbollah’s dominance, aligned with Iran’s interests, has not only brought conflict but also isolated Lebanon from many regional and international opportunities. Hezbollah’s entrenchment in Lebanese politics, economics, and military affairs has led to violence, war, and economic stagnation. Those who yearn to start a business, reject extremism, and invest in improving their communities have their voices drowned out by bombs or more radical, powerful actors. 

Iran is not the only country that has sought to manipulate Lebanon for its own ends. In the 1980s and 90s, the South Lebanese Army (SLA), backed by Israel, also operated as a foreign proxy force, working with Israel to control parts of southern Lebanon. The SLA, supported militarily and financially by Israel, collaborated in fighting not only Lebanese forces but also Palestinian refugees living in Lebanon. During this time, many Lebanese civilians and Palestinians suffered under the violence of the SLA, adding to the country's deepening divisions and furthering foreign interference in Lebanon’s affairs.

Both Hezbollah and the South Lebanese Army are striking examples of how foreign interests have abused Lebanese soil and its people for their geopolitical agendas. These external players have caused untold harm, with Lebanese citizens and Palestinian refugees paying the price of their ambitions and, most importantly, stripping Lebanon of its independence and agency. 

For Lebanon to move forward, the first step must be the restoration of national sovereignty. This means diminishing the influence of foreign-backed militias and strengthening state institutions. In order for Hezbollah to be deposed, a better alternative must stand ready to take its place. Lebanon’s political system, deeply sectarian and dysfunctional, must be reformed to represent the will of the people—not just the leaders of sectarian factions. A national dialogue that includes voices from all walks of life, particularly those who advocate for non-sectarian governance, is crucial. 

This change doesn’t have to happen overnight as the country remains at war, but sovereignty free from Hezbollah should be the guiding star of what the people in Lebanon strive toward. They cannot do it without support. 

Act Now to Help Lebanon Rise From Crisis

The aspirations of Lebanon's youth, entrepreneurs, and thinkers need to be heard and amplified to create policies that foster economic development and entrepreneurship. Traditional international aid and development structures have failed the Lebanese people time and time again. To see Lebanon succeed, its citizens must be empowered to change their societies on their terms. I have spoken with dozens of them, and they all say the same thing:

Nassib Ghobril, the head of economic research and analysis at Byblos Bank in Beirut, said, "Lebanon’s competitive advantages lie in its geographical location, openness, and services sectors. For Lebanon to thrive, it must leverage its historic role as a regional hub for trade, investment, and tourism, fostering closer economic ties with its neighbors."

Lebanon must seek economic integration with its regional neighbors through trade, investment, and tourism. The country’s geographical position and historical openness to the world make it a natural hub for business and tourism. By becoming a peaceful and stable nation, Lebanon can leverage its assets—such as its beautiful coastlines, cultural diversity, and intellectual capital—to attract international investment and tourism. Hezbollah’s presence has hamstrung these efforts and intimidation of local journalists and commentators who dream of a better Lebanon. The current moment presents a unique opportunity for the Lebanese people to seize autonomy and build a flourishing, lasting economy that benefits itself and its neighbors. The country’s untapped potential should not be underestimated. 

The only viable solution for Lebanon requires a national commitment to rejecting sectarianism and foreign agendas. Lebanon's future must be built on unity, economic development, and peaceful coexistence within the region. Voices like Saleh Al Mashnouq, Ronnie Chatah, and others advocating for an inclusive and prosperous Lebanon offer a roadmap to that future. By empowering these inspiring leaders and supporting their vision, Lebanon can once again become a force for good in the Middle East.

Lebanon is at a critical juncture—much like the rest of the Middle East, where the forces of moderation, long sidelined, now face a rare opportunity to reclaim the narrative. Hezbollah, once seen as an untouchable Iraninan-backed force within Lebanon, appears to be slowly losing its grip, offering a slim but significant chance for reform. But make no mistake: this window is not just an opportunity. It’s a test. If those who believe in Lebanese sovereignty fail to act decisively, the country and the region will slip deeper into chaos—just as we’ve seen elsewhere in the Middle East.

The unimaginable horror of what happened on October 7th and afterward will be remembered for decades to come in the Middle East and around the world. And as the war erupted, there was another, quieter casualty: the relevance of Arab and Middle Eastern liberals.

A year before October 7th, 2023, I was in the region, and everyone was talking about regional integration, the Abraham Accords, and peace between Arab states and Israel; to talk about those things now elicits assumptions of betrayal and delusion. Everyone is fighting for their own survival, and to talk about peace and coexistence labels you a traitor at worst and a coward at best. 

As someone who has long advocated for liberal ideals and coexistence among the different factions of the region, it’s hard not to feel a sense of failure. We didn’t prevent the attack. We couldn’t stop any of the wars that came after. The voices of moderation and liberal ideals—our voices—are now barely a whisper. 

What happened over the past year is part of a much larger story that’s been unfolding for years, a story of how liberalism has steadily lost ground to authoritarianism, sectarianism, and extremism. The fallout hasn’t been about just one attack, one country, or even one ideology. It’s about how the forces of reason, tolerance, and reform have been drowned out by violence, radicalism, and the kind of thinking that keeps the Middle East trapped in a perpetual cycle of destruction. This is not new. In Professor Ali Alwai’s book about King Faisal I of Iraq (who I was named after), we see how the voices of modernity and darkness have been in conflict for centuries. We can draw inspiration from the successes and learn from the failures. 

In Lebanon, the current moment offers a unique opportunity for lasting change. I don't want to be too optimistic, but from listening and talking to people inside the country, I know that many of them want things to change. 

Hezbollah is weakened, and for the first time in years, moderates and reformists have a chance to push the country toward real change. The president of Lebanon calling for the return of the United Nations Security Council Resolution 1701 that calls for disarming militias, including Hezbollah, could be an opportunity for reform-minded voices that are ready to act. But—and this is the part we must face—the opportunity won’t last long. If Hezbollah regroups, the war continues, and if the forces of extremism regain control, Lebanon will continue to be in this chaos. The question isn’t whether the moderates will act; it’s whether they can act fast enough. Saad Hariri, Lebanon’s former Prime Minister, said, “We will not accept that Lebanon remains a pawn in regional conflicts. Our future lies in neutrality, peace, and development, not in becoming a battleground for others.” 

What’s happening in Lebanon is a microcosm of the broader Middle East. Across the region, the liberal project has been in retreat, steadily losing ground to extremists and authoritarians, even though we have a positive message about coexistence and prosperity. Advocates for tribalistic, collectivist, and extremist mindsets seem to have the upper hand. 

The past 365 days were just the latest flashpoint. It exposed a painful truth: liberals have become irrelevant in shaping the region’s future. But this irrelevance isn’t something that happened overnight.

Where does that leave us—the liberals, the reformists, the ones who believe in a better, more peaceful future?

It leaves us with a choice. Do we give up? Do we retreat into irrelevance, telling ourselves that our ideas are too “idealistic” for a region as troubled as the Middle East? Or do we regroup, rethink, and rebuild? If we’re serious about shaping the future, we must confront some hard truths. First, the liberal movement in the Middle East is fragmented. Whether in Lebanon, Iraq, or elsewhere, we’ve failed to unite across national, ethnic, and sectarian lines. And that failure has cost us dearly. If we’re going to stand a chance, we need to build alliances—not just with each other, but with anyone who wants to live in the same country as we do. 

In Lebanon, the first step is clear: seize the moment. Hezbollah’s narrative—that it’s the only force capable of defending Lebanon—needs to be dismantled. For years, it has justified its existence by pointing to external threats, but what has that brought? More violence, more instability, more economic ruin. The moderates in Lebanon must craft a counter-narrative, and they already have. One that positions them as the true defenders of Lebanon’s sovereignty and future. And they need international support to do it—whether through media platforms amplifying their voices or financial backing for grassroots movements pushing for peace and reform.

The other priority is to empower the Lebanese army with all its diversity, including Sunnis, Shias, and Christians, to make sure that it is the one in control of the country and that the Lebanese government is a reflection of its society, not a pawn of foreign powers. 

The diaspora, too, has a crucial role to play. Lebanese communities abroad, particularly in the West and Latin America, have influence. They can raise awareness, lobby policymakers, and provide the financial support that reformists need. But just as importantly, they can offer a vision of what Lebanon could be: a country where economic recovery is possible, where entrepreneurship can flourish, and where the private sector—not Iranian-backed militias—drives growth.

The events of last year were a wake-up call for the entire Middle East, but especially for us, the liberals left standing. We have a choice: either we recognize the depth of our crisis and act, or we continue to drift more into irrelevance, allowing extremists to lead our countries more into the abyss. 

Lebanon is just one example, but the lesson applies everywhere. We can’t afford to wait for the perfect moment or the perfect coalition. The time to act is now.

There is still hope. Despite the grim realities we face, there are people in Lebanon, Iraq, and across the region who believe in the values we hold dear—peace and prosperity. But they need support, they need a platform, and they need allies. If we can provide that, if we can unite around a coherent vision for the future, then maybe—just maybe—we can reclaim our relevance and help build a Middle East that isn’t defined by extremism, but by the potential for progress. A Middle East that people want to visit rather than escape. 

Time is running out. Let’s not waste it.

The Yolo Art Center is more than just a building; it is a home away from home for many. Comprising three floors, the Center includes a welcoming café on the ground floor where social events like light shows, jam sessions, and karaoke nights bring people together. The basement houses a stage for live events such as stand-up comedy competitions and open talks. The first floor is a training center offering workshops and therapy sessions, including drama therapy, family constellation therapy, drawing therapy, and guitar classes. Established in May 2022, Yolo Art Center has provided a sanctuary where people can gather, express themselves, and find solace in a shared cultural heritage. However, the Center now faces imminent closure due to financial constraints and a lack of funding, threatening to dismantle a vital support system for many in the community.

Bayan Agha, the co-founder of Yolo Art Center alongside Jihad Bakr, recently shared with me how the Center has become a cornerstone for the Arab community in Istanbul. “We started with a vision to create a safe, inclusive space where people could meet, improve their talents, and find a sense of belonging,” Bayan explained. “We’ve hosted over 400 events in two and a half years, impacting countless lives.”

Despite its success, the Center has faced numerous challenges. The devastating earthquake in Turkey in February 2023 forced the Center to halt activities for over a month as it provided psychological support to the affected. Subsequent political and social upheavals further strained the center's operations, leading to additional closures. However, the most significant hurdle has been the soaring inflation rates in Turkey, which have nearly tripled its operating costs.

“We’ve always known that such projects take time to grow and become self-sustaining,” Bayan said. “But the inflation this year was out of our hands. We’ve exhausted our budget for the entire year in just five months.”

Despite their best efforts, including reaching out to various organizations and embassies, the funding needed to keep Yolo Art Center afloat has not materialized. The focus of available funds has been redirected towards emergency causes in regions like Gaza, leaving little for ongoing projects in Turkey.

To make matters even more difficult, the Center’s commitment to liberal and pro-democracy values puts it at odds with the prevailing political climate. In recent years, there has been a growing trend of financial support being funneled to businesses and organizations that align with radical theocratic ideologies. Those who conform to these views often receive substantial funding from wealthy donors and international organizations, while those who champion democracy and liberalism find themselves marginalized and financially strained.

For Bayan and Jihad, this means that despite their hard work and positive impact on their community, they cannot secure the financial backing needed to sustain their business. The founders now face an agonizing choice: compromise their values for the sake of financial survival or risk closing down while staying true to their principles. They have chosen the latter, deciding that their commitment to democracy and liberal values is worth more than any financial gain.

The potential closure of Yolo Art Center extends beyond financial loss; it represents the loss of a community lifeline. Many who frequent the Center see it as their sanctuary, a place where they feel safe and understood. The Center offers a rare and vital space for cultural expression and mental health support, fostering a sense of normalcy and hope amidst challenging circumstances.

Bayan’s dedication to the Center is deeply personal. Having left a stable job in television to pursue this dream, she has invested all her savings into Yolo Art Center. “I believe in the importance of this work, not just for myself but for everyone in our community,” she said. “If we close, I don’t know what will happen next. We have a loyal community that depends on us.”

The Yolo Art Center has been a pillar of support for many, providing a space for creativity, therapy, and community bonding. Now, it needs our help. The Center is on the brink of closure, and without immediate financial assistance, this invaluable resource will be lost.

Bayan remains hopeful, “We’ve kept the door open, believing in the importance of our project. If we receive a significant donation, we can continue our work and re-up our lease.”

As the Center struggles to keep its doors open, the founders remain optimistic that their story will inspire others to continue the fight for democracy and freedom. They dream of a future where businesses like theirs can thrive, not because they conform to certain ideologies, but because they bring people together and promote the values that make our societies stronger and more resilient. They are calling on the community, supporters of democracy, and advocates of refugee rights to help save Yolo Art Center.

Your donation can make a difference. They have until the end of September to reach their fundraising goal, so time is of the essence. By contributing to the Yolo Art Center, you are not only helping to save a building but preserving a community’s hope, creativity, and support system. Please consider donating to keep this vital space alive. Together, we can ensure that Yolo Art Center continues to be a home away from home for those who need it most.

Donate to Save Yolo

Recently, I found myself at the center of controversy for defending King Abdullah II of Jordan's decisive action to intercept Iranian drones and rockets destined for Israel. Critics were quick to label this as pro-Israel, missing the larger and more pressing narrative: this is about protecting Jordan's sovereignty and its very survival.

Let's set the record straight. This isn't about choosing between Israel and Iran; it's about preventing Jordan from becoming a casualty of regional power plays, much like Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, and my homeland, Iraq. These nations have suffered immensely under the influence of unchecked external powers, particularly Iran. The cost? Stability and the safety of their people.

Take Iraq, for instance. In a recent CNN interview, the Iraqi Prime Minister's response to a journalist's kidnapping—a likely act by militias aligned with Iran—was merely to mention an ongoing "investigation." This incident illustrates how militias have hijacked the sovereignty of Iraq for external agendas.

Jordan, meanwhile, serves as a sanctuary to over a million Syrian refugees and numerous displaced Palestinians, many of whom have gained Jordanian citizenship. If Jordan were to become another proxy battlefield, not only would these refugees have nowhere safe to go, but the very fabric of Jordanian society could unravel. Claims that a few Iranian rockets could "wipe out Israel" are not only delusional but dangerously ignore the broader consequence: the potential devastation of Jordan itself.

Critics also charge that Jordan's actions betray the Muslim world, the Ummah. However, equating the diverse political interests of Muslim-majority countries like Indonesia, Pakistan, and Iran is simplistic and inaccurate. The notion that all Muslim nations share uniform political objectives is as flawed as suggesting that Christian-majority countries like Russia and Ukraine, or Venezuela and Poland, have aligned interests. 

Jordan's alliances, particularly with the United States and through its peace treaty with Israel, are strategic and based on mutual benefits rather than religious solidarity. The kingdom has chosen peace and pragmatism over conflict and ideology—a stance that has preserved its stability in a tumultuous region.

Jordanians, like all global citizens, certainly have a role in supporting their Palestinian neighbors, and more can be done. But to demand Jordan risk its own existence for a broader conflict between Iran and Israel is both unreasonable and irresponsible. Iran's decision to target Israel was not out of solidarity with Gaza but was a response to an alleged attack on their embassy, further complicating the narrative.

Jordan’s interception of Iranian weaponry was not a betrayal but a necessary act of self-preservation. It is a reminder that Jordan must continue to safeguard its sovereignty against external pressures to maintain its role as a bastion of stability in the Middle East. The international community must recognize and support Jordan's right to defend itself, as the consequences of failing to do so could be disastrous not only for Jordan—but for the entire region.

The geopolitical landscape of the Middle East is at a critical juncture. Iraq stands at a crossroads, facing a pivotal choice that will shape its future: will it become a province or a proxy under the expanding influence of the Islamic Republic of Iran, or strive towards being an independent state, pursuing its own interests and sovereignty? Iran's influence in Iraq has been growing steadily, especially after the 2003 U.S. invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein. This influence is not merely political but extends to economic, cultural, and military dimensions. Iran has capitalized on the religious and cultural ties it shares with Iraq, especially with the majority Shia population. Tehran’s strategy has been to support various Shia militias and political groups, effectively creating a proxy network that can sway Iraqi politics in favor of Iranian interests. The result is a shadow state within Iraq, one that undermines the central government's authority and sovereignty.

On the other side of the spectrum is the aspiration for an independent Iraq—a path that entails following its own national interests and maintaining sovereignty over its decisions and resources. This choice aligns with the sentiments of a significant portion of the Iraqi population, as demonstrated by the protests that erupted in 2019. These protests were not just against economic hardship and corruption but were also a clear expression of resentment towards foreign interference, particularly from Iran. An independent Iraq would mean a stronger central government, a focus on national unity irrespective of sectarian divides, and policies prioritizing Iraq's developmental and geopolitical interests.

The United States, in its foreign policy towards Iraq, faces the challenge of supporting Iraq’s sovereignty without overtly making Iraq a proxy for its interests. The US policy should aim at bolstering the state institutions of Iraq, away from the influence of the Islamic Republic, both in Iraq and the broader region, including Lebanon. This approach involves supporting the voices of change—those who rose in the 2019 protests demanding a more independent and transparent government. The goal should not be to create a pro-American Iraq but to nurture a pro-Iraqi Iraq, one that is capable of making decisions that serve its people, free from external pressures, be it Iranian or any other.

Unlike many other protests that happened across the region, the main flag my friends were carrying that year was the Iraqi flag. What surprised me was the emergence of significant interest in liberal literature and values. This development inspired my organization, Ideas Beyond Borders, to mass print the short version of On Liberty by John Stuart Mill in order to make it widely available to Arabic-speaking youth in Iraq. The young protesters had a voice for a short time that was snuffed out the moment Iranian-aligned militias started shooting at many of these protests, killing not just the protesters themselves, but aiming to destroy the spirit of the youth writ large. 

Despite all the pressure, that spirit is still there, waiting for its opportunity to be heard and realized. Iraqi youth want change. Liberal coalitions were formed in an attempt to institutionalize the movement's goals despite increasing pressure from the government and its Iranian proxies to silence dissent. I was a part of the coalition, meeting with members during one of my recent visits home. I was happy to discover I wasn’t alone in my desire for an Iraq that is diverse, multicultural, secular, and free.

How can the United States and its allies support the growing movement of Iraqi youth advocating for sovereignty and democracy? The answer is simple: a weaker Iran means a stronger Iraq.

The US strikes against Iranian proxies in Iraq aim to prevent these forces from transforming Iraq into a global threat once again. This is especially pertinent considering that Iranian militias' treatment of Sunni populations has intensified sectarian tensions, contributing to the rise of ISIS—a group that poses a threat not just to Iraq, but to the entire world. Iraq must stand firm—but it can only do so given the right conditions, which relies heavily upon the decisions of the West. Sanctions are woefully insufficient. The US should continue to attack Iranian proxies to make it difficult, if not impossible, for them to organize and expand. Countries like Iraq have the potential to move in a positive direction, absent the threat and influence of the Islamic Republic. It’s up to us to empower them to take steps toward that future. 

Iraq’s decision at this crossroads is more than a choice between two external influences; it is about defining its identity and future as a nation. For Iraq to flourish and maintain its sovereignty, it must intentionally navigate away from being a proxy to any foreign power. The role of the US should be one of support, not dominance, encouraging a path that respects Iraq’s independence and the aspirations of its people. As Iraq deliberates its future, the international community must recognize and respect its sovereignty, allowing the nation to emerge as a strong, independent entity in the international arena.

The International Correspondent is edited by Reid Newton.

The most significant transformation of the past decade is the evolution of Middle Eastern Gulf states from ideological to transactional. The Saudi Arabia of today is not defined by Wahabism, but by fancy buildings and resorts. Qatar is not defined by its support of the Muslim Brotherhood—but by the World Cup and stadium revenue. The Abrahamic accords demonstrated clearly how, increasingly, states put business and economic national security interests ahead of ideology. Gulf states finished last year with a surplus. Amidst all the talk and virtue signaling from the West about bringing democracy to the Middle East, the Middle East has brought in money and formed alliances with our adversaries.

The remaining ideologues in the Middle East are the region's biggest losers today. Whether it's Iran and its allies or ISIS—those still clinging to regressive religious dictatorship above all else are missing out on key opportunities for the advancement of their nations. Turkey does not discriminate in terms of who it conducts business with; it will meet with NATO on one day and Russia the next, coming out of each conversation having struck business deals with both. In places like Iran, Afghanistan, or Lebanon, the insistence on promoting ideology above progress all but ensures that they will continue to be failed states as more reasonable nations advance in the global economy. Including women in the educational and professional sectors is a simple way to grow an economy and strengthen a society, something Afghanistan and Iran are once again attempting to curtail to their detriment. Iran’s economy is on a downward spiral as it tries to crack down on protests by disaffected youth who feel they have nothing to lose. Afghanistan is regressing further, pushing its population closer to poverty and starvation as a result. Lebanon crumbled. Iraq is a banana Republic going through an identity crisis despite the facade being put forth by the current government. After the abysmal failure of the Arab Spring, the appeal of ideologues has diminished. Now, the region’s leaders tend to take their foreign policy, economic, and national security interests into their own hands and look less to the West for aid or guidance, partly due to the subsequent failures of US involvement in the Middle East post-9/11.

While it might appear positive for nations to have self-determination, in many cases, that vacuum left empty by the disinterested West is being filled by rising powers like Russia and China, who similarly put transactional economic interests above ideological principles or ethical concerns. Whatever a country’s ideological, religious, or political persuasion, everyone understands the language of money and power. 

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The United States and other Western nations should not underestimate how profoundly the Middle East’s rise or fall will impact our economic systems and way of life. Europe is often directly affected by refugee crises, and as the global economy trends away from oil, Gulf states will look to expand their revenue streams into other endeavors. Those conversations are almost certainly already underway, and the United States is certainly not leading them if we are participating meaningfully at all. The political and socioeconomic experiment of the Middle East is reaching critical mass as Western nations are increasingly less interested in meddling in its affairs, and we must take into account the developments that are inevitably coming down the pike. Suppose the Islamic Republic of Iran obtains nuclear weapons. In that case, the consequences will be far-reaching and will have implications that stretch all the way to Russia’s war against Ukraine and the global supply chain writ large. 

Whether in a flawed democratic country like Tunisia or a theocratic one like Iran, youth across the Middle East are not looking for a grand or a holy ideological purpose—they are looking for a job. The solution to propelling the region toward more prosperity and stability does not lie in more international aid or workshops about gender identity. It depends upon investments in functioning economic systems and people who simply want to work toward a better future for themselves and their families.

Today, I find myself living in downtown Portland, Oregon. I’ve often joked that I’ve lived through the Iraq War, Al Qaeda, and ISIS, yet, downtown Portland is a bit more terrifying. Portland is a unique city of beer, coffee, incredible nature, and blue-haired people (purely based on personal speculation.) But what makes the city even more remarkable is the coexistence of two opposing groups: Antifa and the Proud Boys. 

To make a long story short, Antifa is on the far left, and the Proud Boys are on the far right. Neither group seems particularly open to dialogue, and neither group seems like they would be fun to invite to parties. Yet, each of these groups is allowed to exercise their first amendment right to assemble and protest to their heart's content, as long as it’s peaceful.

In any number of American cities, you might witness a parade of the LGBTQ+ community or a neo-nazi march on the same day. Free speech does not discriminate. This does not mean that either one of these movements is endorsed by the government; that is not a function of the government. The government’s role is to protect the right of the people to express themselves freely.

In the Middle East, many people are frustrated with some of the anti-muslim, pro-LGBTQ+, or pro-democracy rhetoric from the West. They believe that Western governments endorse these narratives to undermine Islam or Middle Eastern culture. Take the recent example of Salwan Momika, an Iraqi immigrant who publicly burned the Quran in Sweden. The backlash was staggering, and Sweden was heavily scrutinized for allowing the burning to happen.

Yet, no Swedish law prohibits the burning of any sacred religious text, including the Torah, the Bible, and the Quran. The Swedish government did not single out the Quran; it just happened to be the sacred book of choice by Salwan Momika. I personally disagree with this act. To quote my colleague, Faisal Al Mutar, “Destroying things is easy. Building them, however, is hard.” No matter how misguided I believe Momika’s actions were, this act is and should remain legal. No matter how unwise or offensive I may believe the burning of the Quran to be, I prefer to live in a society that allows its people to freely express even their worst opinions, so long as it doesn’t incite violence. In our current world, it’s worth repeating: the actions of one do not represent a whole country. 

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A culture of suppression and censorship has been cultivated in the Middle East for decades. Socialist Arab parties have heavily dominated the region on one side and oil-rich monarchies on the other. Neither side has allowed for free speech or government criticism. Speaking up could mean prison time, torture, or even death for you and your loved ones. It’s no wonder that free speech can be misunderstood or frowned upon in the Middle East. When someone in Iran hears that people are burning the Quran in Sweden, they assume the act must be government sanctioned.

Nothing of the sort would be allowed to occur in Iran without the express support of its government. The consequences for defying government messaging would be swift and brutal. In countries like Iran, there are censors at the ministries of information that examine every movie and book being published within their country’s borders. One can assume that anything being printed in an Iranian newspaper has been expressly approved and endorsed by Islamic Republic officials. When Iranians observe the burning of the Quran in Sweden, they have good reason to assume that the Swedish government approves of this behavior. It’s hard to imagine having freedom of expression when you have never experienced it.

The reason why freedom of expression matters in the Middle East is because the principle directly challenges decades of religious statism, socialism, and authoritarianism. Every book translated, every article published, and every act in the pursuit of freedom we take will transform the region. The Middle East is responding; Saudi Arabia is loosening their laws, Iranian women’s demands are louder than ever, and the Afghan people continue the fight against authoritarianism using social media. Achieving freedom of speech in the Middle East will not be a walk in the park; the other side will be fighting back, and they don't fight fair. More often than not, our words and articles are met with stabbings and bullets. That's precisely what makes the work of organizations like Ideas Beyond Borders important. The more people in the Middle East understand the benefits of freedom of speech, the more they will desire and pursue it.

Last week, I spoke with my friend Dave Rubin of The Rubin Report about my journey from Iraq to the United States; my appreciation for American values; my work in promoting freedom and liberal ideals in the Middle East; my gratitude for the opportunities I have received in America; my disappointment with some Americans who take their freedoms for granted; the current situation in Iraq and the potential for progress and stability in the region; the decline of the secular humanist movement and the division within the secular community; why capitalism and coexistence are key to progress and that the separation of religion from the state is important; my concern about the polarization and dehumanization in American politics and the potential for further division and conflict; and much more.

It was a pleasure to sit down with Dave in Miami and discuss these issues, and I look forward to our next conversation!

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