Samiullah Malik
A Cry Resounding Through the Halls of History
Upon the forehead of every age, there are questions inscribed with the fire of time — not mere laments but demands for direction. When nations forget their dreams, when communities chase shadows instead of substance, and when hearts fracture not by doubt but by divisions of race, sect, and soil — it is then that a voice arises, one that sends a tremor down the spine of collective conscience.This writing is such a voice — echoing through the chambers of history, awakening the soul of the Ummah from its long and weary slumber. It is not merely a sequence of words but a revival of that sacred dream which once, upon the sands of Badr, humbled the might of arrogance; that coursed through the rivers of the Tigris and Euphrates; that shattered the walls of Constantinople and altered the rhythm of time.It is a narrative that seeks not to bask in the glow of a golden past, but to ignite the architecture of a dignified future — one forged in unity, justice, knowledge, and divine purpose. This is not a knock upon doors, but upon hearts. It addresses every soul that still shelters the last flicker of faith — be he scholar or layman, youth or elder, of the East or the West. This is not a proclamation born of summit halls or diplomatic courtesy; it is a covenant drawn from the wellspring of belief. It aspires to rekindle the dream of the Ummah Wahidah — the single, indivisible brotherhood of faith — long obscured by conspiracies, conflicts, and the dust of division. This foreword is not merely an introduction to a document — it is the herald of a movement. Perhaps, within its lines lies not just the beginning of a text, but the first step towards a renewed chapter in our collective history. So come — let us read not just with the eyes, but with the soul. For who knows? This very page may well become the preface of a new dawn. Campaigning on the Edge of a Blade: Democracy in the Shadow of the BombOn the grand thoroughfares of history, empires have seldom crumbled, and democracies rarely faltered to the murmur of ballots alone; more often, it has been the clangour of steel, not slogans, that has announced their undoing. Today, as India reverberates with the drumbeats of an electoral carnival, and the fires of nationalism are fanned to fever pitch, there emerges a darker resonance — one ominously familiar to the world — the distant thunder of war. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, a seasoned conjurer of political spectacle, now seems poised not merely to seek votes, but to brandish the nuclear card upon the streets of public discourse — a perilous theatre where diplomacy is drowned in demagoguery. This is not a conventional gambit in the chessboard of power; it is, in truth, a flagrant defiance of history, a moral abdication, and a callous gamble with the destiny of millions. India and Pakistan — both nuclear states, both burdened by a legacy of unresolved enmity — now stand on the precipice of a catastrophe whose tremors will not confine themselves to borders alone. Should this incendiary dance ignite, its inferno shall not merely scar landscapes, but sear the very foundations of civilisation. When the democratic square is transfigured into a theatre of war, and the spectacle of suffrage is wreathed in the smoke of cannon fire, it marks not merely the degradation of politics, but the prelude to the ruin of humanity. Under Modi’s stewardship, the Bharatiya Janata Party now treads a path that threatens to engulf not only South Asia, but the fragile architecture of global peace in a haze of radioactive ambition. History has taught us this grim lesson: when fascism is cornered by crises, it reaches for the opiate of nationalism, stirring the masses with martial fervour. Hitler did so. Mussolini followed. Modi, it appears, now stands at the edge of a similar volcano — with one fatal difference: both India and Pakistan possess the means to reduce cities to cinders not with bayonets, but with the breath of annihilation. And yet, as sabres rattle in plain sight, another, quieter front festers — the battle over water. When rivers become weapons, the ruin of nations is but a matter of time. The Indus Waters Treaty, once hailed as a triumph of subcontinental sagacity, now lies imperilled, victim to political expedience and nationalist fervour. The Modi administration, in its blind pursuit of electoral gain, now eyes Pakistan’s rivers as levers of coercion — as if to throttle a nation by the neck of its lifeblood. This is no war of bullets, but of drought. It marches not with tanks, but with parched wells, wilted crops, and hollowed hamlets. And though Pakistan bears the immediate brunt, the inferno it threatens to spark will consume all shores it touches. Pakistan, already beleaguered by economic, political, and ecological despair, now finds itself confronted with hydrological aggression. What was once a treaty symbolic of global diplomatic wisdom is now teetering under the weight of India’s myopic nationalism — no longer merely a question of canals, but a stranglehold upon a nation’s jugular. This is a nuclear water war in slow motion — an apocalypse without the spectacle of explosions, but with the same finality of extinction. Is the world blind to this? Do the chambers of the United Nations not recognise that water has now surpassed oil as humanity’s most precious commodity? And yet, the silence is deafening. The guardians of peace, it seems, have become spectators at the edge of an abyss. Elsewhere, a new alliance is being inked into the annals of contemporary power — between India and Israel. One, the iron fist of occupation in the Middle East; the other, a claimant to regional hegemony in South Asia. In Gaza, children are buried beneath rubble; in Kashmir, silence reigns like a curfew. Yet the chorus from both is identical: the war on terror justifies all. Israel now stands not merely with its arsenal, but with its ideology, beside India. This is not merely a military partnership; it is a union of moral abdication — a convergence where freedom is cast as rebellion, and oppression paraded as order. Under the shadow of Zionism, Delhi, Tel Aviv, and Washington seem to coalesce into a new, unholy trinity. Where is the global conscience? And the West — those self-appointed custodians of justice and international order — where do they stand now? Once pledged beneath the banners of the United Nations to uphold peace, they now shroud themselves in silence. Edmund Burke’s haunting reminder rings true: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” And that silence today, cloaked in diplomatic poise, rests firmly upon Western lips. For to the West, India is a bulwark against China, and Israel an old and trusted ally. Thus, morality lies entombed beneath the weight of trade, treaties, and tactical alliances. Iran and Pakistan, now aligned in their resistance to Israeli militarism, stand on the frontlines of a moral reckoning. As Israel drenches Palestine in blood and forges deeper ties with India to script a new Hindutva-Zionist chapter, the Muslim world is summoned to a common cause — or, perhaps, entrusted with a historic burden. When India stands armed with Israeli weapons, technology, and temperament, it is no longer a neighbourly squabble — it is a civilisational clash. One side brandishes power; the other bears principle. The silence of global powers is no accident. It is policy. In the Middle East, they sell oil and arms; in South Asia, they craft stratagems to encircle China. The march of profit tramples every precept of justice. 
We do not live in an age of United Nations, but of United Interests. And the powers that be are now too blind — or too invested — to gaze into the mirror of truth. This is the age where Israel is granted the “right to defend itself” after bombing Gaza, but no condolence is extended for the slain children. The same apathy now casts its shadow over Pakistan and Iran — a grotesque repetition of the past, echoing the brutal theatre once staged in Afghanistan. Those who wielded terror there have left in ignominy and shall again. For in this cruel calculus, the oppressed are guilty — guilty, only of resisting. Iran rises, lighting lamps of wisdom from the ashes of martyrdom. Pakistan, wounded by Gaza and Kashmir, holds aloft the sword of dignity. The stirrings of solidarity between them are no longer whispers; they are the imperatives of the hour. And in the flicker of that flame — whether in Iran, Afghanistan, or Pakistan — the powers that be see not hope, but fear. For nothing terrifies tyranny more than the embers of resistance kindling in concert. When the World Stood Ablaze: A Call to the Conscience of NationsIn an era cloaked in uncertainty and shadowed by the spectre of global conflict, two nations stand not as reluctant participants, but as resolute sentinels of resistance: Iran and Pakistan. Amidst the dusk of despondency, a solitary flame flickers — the alliance between Tehran and Islamabad. Iran, a defiant sword drawn against Zionist aggression; Pakistan, besieged by the weaponisation of water — both now march shoulder to shoulder, not under the banner of convenience, but under the standard of conviction. Theirs is a covenant not of commerce, but of conscience; not forged in boardrooms, but born of blood and belief. It is a legacy of Karbala — where the blade was met not with fear, but with faith, and where blood, rather than retreating, etched its place in the annals of eternity. The time has come when we must do more than mourn, more than merely compose elegies to past tragedies. We must rise to alter the course of history — armed not with arms, but with wisdom, foresight, and unity. For one day, when the chronicler takes up his pen, a question shall inevitably be inscribed upon the parchment of time:“When the world stood at the precipice of nuclear fire, did the wise, the powerful, and the eloquent remain silent spectators?” Today, the theatre of politics dances perilously on the edge of atomic destruction. When Mr. Modi’s democracy makes a dalliance with devastation, it becomes not just an Indian problem, but a global crisis. The lovers of peace — across continents, cultures, and creeds — must rise. This is not an hour for mere deflection of tyranny; it is a call to defeat it on every front — intellectual, diplomatic, and civilisational. We must demonstrate that the fate of the subcontinent shall not be sealed by Hindutva, nor by the bomb — but by peace, reason, and solidarity. Time has not yet abandoned us entirely; there remains a slender margin for redemption. Let the voices of the world converge — of poets, journalists, diplomats — pouring water on the flames of war rather than fanning them.History remembers not only the deeds committed, but the silences that permitted them. Let us, then, break the silence — not with hatred, but with enlightenment; not with weapons, but with dignity. For at the threshold of history, a moment of moral clarity outweighs centuries of compromise. Let us not allow the morrow’s children to ask, with accusing eyes:“When the world burned, where were you?” O Muslim world! The hour of awakening has arrived. This is no mere lament, it is a cry — a plea, a charge: When once the call to prayer echoed under the skies of the Kaaba, even the palaces of Caesar and Chosroes trembled. And yet today, their inheritors — Pakistan, Iran, Turkey, and Afghanistan — are ensnared in the fog of slumber, counting their wounds behind their own ramparts. O keepers of the fragrance of Hijaz! The enemy wishes not to conquer your lands, but to render them insensate. Modi, Netanyahu, and Trump — three shadows, three sorcerers, three seducers — conspire not merely against your rivers and mountains, but against your wisdom, your honour, your very soul. Pakistan’s nuclear capability is the thorn in their eye; Iran’s indomitable scientists, the targets of their missiles. Turkey’s sovereign path threatens their hegemony. Afghanistan’s geography blocks their imperial designs. The “New World Order,” guided by Zionist power and imperial greed, is a dark dream — a realm without prayer, without freedom, without honour, built upon the cruel altar of usury. Beware: if today we fail to raise the banner of Islamic brotherhood, tomorrow even our mosques, seminaries, and sanctuaries shall be reduced to dust. That day is not far when the very walls of the Haram may be pawned for debt, and the shadow of Al-Aqsa remains only in photographs.O Muslims! Tear down the veils of language, race, sect, and school — and gather beneath the one banner once raised at Badr, the banner that would not fall even in Karbala, though its bearer was beheaded. Begin with Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan, and Turkey. These four pillars, united at one centre, may give birth to a new Majlis al-Shura, an Islamic council capable of defending not only their own peoples, but of rekindling the shattered mosaic of the Ummah. China and Russia are not blind to these machinations. The Arab world, though trembling, still harbours a heartbeat for truth. Their trust shall be rekindled when they see one who rises, one who speaks, one who acts. Let us lay the cornerstone of a new dawn — a morning where no Muslim is identified by nationality, but by unity — by the singular bond of being part of the Ummah of Muhammad ﷺ. Do you remember the day you cried, “Labbayk Allahumma Labbayk”? The time has come to live that pledge. Let not your strength lie in uranium, but in your unyielding faith. Let not your power rest in petroleum, but in your unity. Guard not merely your borders, but the boundaries of the Ummah. By God! If you rise with sincerity, the angels shall descend to your ranks, the skies shall echo your cries, and the earth shall shimmer with your honour. Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan, and Turkey — you are the four lamps from which light may yet be rekindled. Rise, for the hour is not yet lost — lest history brand your foreheads with the scar of servitude. Listen well: a voice is calling to gather the scattered stars of this Ummah into a single constellation. Let us now unmask the smiles of our enemies and recognise the snares behind them. O heirs of those who once proclaimed the call to prayer upon the shores of Andalusia! O descendants of those who trampled the crowns of Caesar and Chosroes! Where are you now? Where is that blood that flowed at Uhud and Saffin? How do you sleep when Gaza’s daughters are buried without shrouds? How do you stay silent when Kashmiri children become corpses in their mother’s arms? The enemy has clothed you in the garb of nationalism to rob you of the crown of faith. They have split you into Shia and Sunni, Persian and Arab, Turk and Afghan — and in so doing, shattered the Ummah.Today, the enemy controls media, money, and munitions. And you? You wield apathy, disunity,and mutual disdain. Modi, Netanyahu, and their imperial patrons — these are the satans who have danced upon the ruins of the Ottoman Caliphate, and now plot to reduce Pakistan, Iran, Turkey, and Afghanistan to rubble.Pakistan’s crime is that it dares to possess the atom. Afghanistan’s sin is its honour. Iran’s fault is its refusal to bow. Turkey’s trespass is the memory of the Caliphate. And they know — as we must know — that if these four powers unite, the very foundations of their New World Order shall tremble.A Covenant of Unity: The Clarion Call of a Dispersed Ummah”The sword, in our age, is no longer wrought of steel, but forged in the furnace of wisdom. War is not waged with gunpowder, but with the authority of a just and truthful narrative.”Today, the might of a nation is not reckoned in megatons, but in the measure of unity among its people. If we, the Muslims of the world, can stand shoulder to shoulder in prayer, why, then, do we stagger in politics, falter in economics, splinter in science and wither in collective resolve? Why does the Ummah remain without a singular helm, a voice to command the tides?The summits of the OIC echo with resolutions yet seldom ripple into resolve. Meanwhile, the noose of debt tightens around Pakistan’s neck; the skies over Afghanistan still tremble with the shadow of drones. Iran’s markets groan under the weight of sanctions; Turkey’s economy writhes under orchestrated pressures. These are not isolated tremors, but the echoes of a broader conspiracy — a design to prevent the rise of another Salahuddin, to bury the soul of Khalid ibn al-Walid, to extinguish the spark that once illuminated Iqbal’s dream, Jinnah’s resolve, Khomeini’s defiance, Ertuğrul’s courage, Tamerlane’s audacity, and Abdali’s fervour.The engines of the global economy are fuelled by your oil, powered by your intellect, adorned by your culture, and reliant upon your youth — and yet, you remain riven by sects, tribes, and flags.O youth! Rise not to outshout one another on social media, but to unveil the masks of propaganda.O scholars and thinkers! Let your pulpits not merely echo moral tales but proclaim a doctrine of unity and love.O statesmen! Fly not only the banners of your own nations — but weave together the fabric of the Ummah. If the world’s powers may forge alliances — the EU, NATO, G7, G20 — shall not the people of Muhammad ﷺ forge a bloc in the name of the Divine? Why should there not be a United Ummah Bloc — with a common defence, a unified currency, a shared judiciary, and a single narrative founded on truth and honour?Let us ink a treaty that binds not merely capitals but minarets — from Makkah to Islamabad, from Qom to Ankara, and from the valleys of Kabul to the domes of Madinah. Let there be no Sunni, no Shia — only “Abdullah”, servant of the One Lord.For God has promised: “If you aid Me, I shall aid you.” So let us set our ranks in order, bind our hearts as one, and welcome a dawn born not of resignation but of resolve. Else, history — that relentless judge — shall not pardon us, and generations yet unborn shall inherit the chains we refused to shatter.Let us, this day, gather not beneath banners of rhetoric, but under the covenant of unity — a pact sealed in the name of the Ummah of Muhammad ﷺ, solemn and sacred as blood, enduring as faith, and mightier than history itself.We, the sons of the Islamic realm — from Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan and Turkey — united not by convenience, but by creed, hereby declare our allegiance to an eternal compact of Islamic fraternity. We pledge:To reject all divisions sown by sect, ethnicity, language, geography, or nationhood.To guard the nuclear strength of Pakistan, the scientific advancement of Iran, the military vigilance of Turkey, and the spiritual resilience of Afghanistan — as shields of the collective Ummah.That an attack upon one shall be deemed an affront to all.To form a joint defence council, a consultative forum for foreign policy, and the groundwork for a political confederation of Islamic power.To strive toward economic unity: a common currency, regional trade, scholarship networks, academic institutions, and a media narrative rooted in truth and tradition. To declare it a sacred duty to defend the oppressed of Palestine, Kashmir, Yemen, Syria, Libya, Burma and beyond — not as charity, but as obligation. We further vow:That our tongues shall not insult one another.Our pulpits shall not sow hatred.Our rulers shall not beg at foreign thrones.Our dignity shall not be auctioned on Western tables.Our grief shall be for the Ummah, our honour shall lie in her integrity, and her defence shall be our foremost duty. O Lord! We are those servants who now gather for the exaltation of Your faith. Grant us sincerity in our ranks, unity in our hearts, and render our enemies disgraced.Bestow upon us that wisdom, courage, and cohesion which once echoed in the Treaty of Hudaybiya, the conquest of Makkah, and the plains of Badr.This is no communiqué of convenience, no declaration for diplomatic optics. This is a solemn oath, penned in the blood of centuries — from Karbala to al-Quds, from Gaza to Srinagar, and from the gates of Mashhad to the hills of Konya.For indeed:اِنَّمَاالْمُؤْمِنُوْنَ اِخْوَةٌ“The believers are but brothers.”And that, history shall not forget.
