When Conscience Walked Out

Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal
Cruelty is the darkest stain on the conscience of mankind. It has been condemned in every age, every nation, every faith, and every civilization. Yet, though condemnation is universal, silence often prevails, and silence in the face of cruelty becomes its greatest ally. Islam has enjoined upon its followers to resist oppression with courage. The Qur’an commands: “And do not incline toward those who do wrong, lest you be touched by the Fire, and you would not have besides Allah any protectors; then you would not be helped” (Surah Hud, 11:113). To oppose tyranny is not an option but a sacred duty. The Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) reminded his followers: “Whoever of you sees something evil, let him change it with his hand; and if he is not able, then with his tongue; and if he is not able, then with his heart, and that is the weakest of faith.” History is a river flowing with both the blood of victims and the resolve of those who defied cruelty. Some sufferings scar individuals, but others crush entire nations. And yet, even in the darkest hours, humanity has shown its ability to rise in protest, to remind the world that cruelty cannot be allowed to reign unchallenged. Such a reminder was given only two days ago in New York, the towering city of the United States, where the United Nations General Assembly convened. As Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu addressed the Assembly, seeking to cloak oppression in the language of politics, a rare moment unfolded. Representatives of conscience, unable to bear the weight of hypocrisy, rose from their seats and walked out. The silence of their absence was louder than the noise of his words. It was a gesture that pierced the walls of the Assembly and reached the heart of the world. Nearly thirty to thirty-five nations took part in this silent yet thunderous protest. Most were members of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), joined by countries outside the Muslim world who have long condemned the cruelty inflicted upon Gaza and the occupied West Bank. Their message was clear; they would not remain present to dignify words “divorced from reality,” words that ignored the bleeding wound of Palestine. The list of these nations carried great weight. From the Arab heartlands—Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Egypt, Iraq, Kuwait, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates—to the far horizons of Asia—Pakistan, Indonesia, Malaysia, Bangladesh, and Brunei. From North Africa—Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Mauritania, Djibouti, and Somalia—to the shores of South Africa and Namibia, and even Bolivia in Latin America. Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, and Afghanistan also stood in protest. That Bahrain and the UAE, both signatories to the Abraham Accords, chose to join the walkout made the act even more striking. Their message was unambiguous; normalization cannot mean endorsement of tyranny. The protest was a direct response to Israel’s relentless expansion of illegal settlements, its suffocating siege of Gaza, and its contempt for international law. Netanyahu’s words were dismissed as hollow, as the blood of children in Gaza and the cries of mothers in Palestine testified more powerfully than any speech. For too long, Gaza has been a place where the world’s conscience faltered. Its skies have been filled with fire, its streets with rubble, its nights with the screams of the wounded and the silence of the dead. Every stone in Gaza carries the memory of a child’s laughter extinguished, every wall torn down by bombs bears the trace of prayers interrupted. Yet even in its suffering, Gaza has become the lantern of truth, forcing the world to look into the mirror of its own humanity. Now, after years of hesitation, a collective voice has stirred. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “Help your brother, whether he is an oppressor or oppressed.” His companions asked, “O Messenger of Allah, we help the oppressed, but how do we help the oppressor?” He replied, “By restraining him from oppression.” Those who walked out of the Assembly sought to restrain an oppressor by denying him the legitimacy of their presence. If the countries that staged this protest unite with resolve beyond symbolism, they have the power to change history. Allah has endowed them with wealth, resources, and influence. Should they stand together with steadfastness, others will rally beside them. The Qur’an promises: “Indeed, Allah commands you to render trusts to whom they are due and when you judge between people to judge with justice” (Surah An-Nisa, 4:58). The trust of our age is to defend the oppressed and to judge cruelty for what it is. From Gaza to occupied Jammu and Kashmir, from Palestine’s blood-soaked soil to other corners of the world where oppression thrives, the oppressed wait for the dawn of justice. The walkout in New York may be but a beginning, a spark of unity in a fractured world. Yet, it is proof that the advocates of peace are growing in number and that the enemies of peace cannot forever hide behind power. Cruelty is temporary; justice is eternal. The enemies of peace will one day be humiliated, their cruelty turned into their own disgrace. The cries of Gaza, the prayers of Palestine, the blood of martyrs—these will not be in vain. History has shown that no tyrant lasts forever, but every act of resistance, no matter how small, becomes a seed of victory.