Which Flag?

Damascus has fallen.

The tyrannical Assad regime, which held power for over half a century, is no more. This regime, infamous for its torture chambers that claimed tens of thousands of lives and its brutal suppression resulting in hundreds of thousands more deaths, has been ousted. After nearly fourteen years of revolution, the rebel factions, united in their cause, have achieved the unthinkable: they have finally brought an end to this dark chapter of oppression.

But what comes next?

The revolutionary factions, united on the battlefield, must now grapple with the monumental task of governing the country. Syria, a land steeped in history and a crossroads of civilizations, has long been central to the Islamic world. From its liberation by the Prophet Muhammad’s (saw) companions (ra) in the 7th century to its centuries under Islamic rule, Damascus stood as a beacon of faith, knowledge, and governance. The stakes are high: will this historic legacy guide Syria’s future, or will it be squandered?

The answer lies in unity. The factions must establish a shared vision for governance. Without agreement on the principles that will underpin the new Syria, the country risks descending into fragmentation, infighting, and renewed strife. Meanwhile, external states remain active behind the scenes, eager to exploit divisions and reassert their influence. These powers aim to maintain the status quo: a secular system that installs local puppet rulers—whether dictatorial or democratic—who prioritise foreign interests at the expense of the people’s welfare and aspirations.

One of the most visible symbols of the new system will be the flag the country chooses. Retaining the current nationalistic Syrian flag, a relic of the Arab Revolt devised by the then British Empire, would signal a continuation of the secular system. This flag, rooted in the dismantling of the Ottoman Caliphate and, with it, thirteen centuries of Islamic governance, represents a fragmented, nation-state model. It stands in stark contrast to the Islamic ideal: a unified ummah without internal borders, governed by a single authority under divine law.

The alternative is clear. To embody the aspirations of the people and align with Islamic principles, Syria must raise the flag of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). This flag, a symbol of unity, justice, and faith, has the power to rally the nation and inspire solidarity across the Muslim world. By choosing this path, Syria can position itself as a beacon of hope and a catalyst for broader Islamic unity.

The choice of the flag is not merely symbolic; it is a declaration of the country’s direction. Will Syria succumb to the pressures of external powers and internal disunity, or will it seize this historic opportunity to lead with faith, purpose, and vision? The decision lies in the hands of its people and their leaders. May they choose wisely.

My Paper Box

I live in a paper box.

Paper walls have surrounded me all my life and I am obliged to see them as my home.

Many activists and thinkers drove the creation of my box, rallying many to flock to it, reaching out to their sense of religious devotion to do so.

You see my box was designed to serve a purpose beyond a mere abode. It was meant to connect me back to my identity and purpose in life, as exemplified by a movement that transformed the world 1,400 years ago. For this reason I and others like me train hard and dedicate our lives for the defence of our box, willing to take to the battlefield and face the enemy on the cry of Iman, Taqwa, Jihad fi Sabilillah.

But at times various issues trouble me. 

Much turmoil have I witnessed, with poverty, exploitation and injustice rampaging the masses across decades, enslaving them to the diktats of powerful families and mafias of the land, as the laws that are followed stand contrary to my deen. A much championed label, however, slapped loudly across my box – ‘no law contrary to Quran and Sunnah’ – seeks to lay my mind at rest.

A people who I saw as my own have been occupied and brutally oppressed. All my life I was determined to defend them, free them from oppression. But a paper wall merely shifted to leave those people on the outside of my box. No longer am I expected by my great ones to worry about clenching my hands and beating my chest, ready for action. Instead I’m told to merely raise these hands, make some dua, and look the other way.

Equally there are another people I feel for, in their own but ever shrinking paper box, sitting on a land which I see as blessed and on whose soil countless prophets have set foot on. They are subjugated to relentless onslaughts year after year, with particularly harsh and symbolic treatment meted out in the holy month of Ramadhan, including within the sanctity of the third most holiest mosque itself. But my tanks, fighter jets and missiles will not see the light of day for this cause, as the colours draped across their box conform not to mine.

I hear sincere and intelligent discussion amongst some though that enough is enough, that the All Mighty is ever observing and noting, awaiting to account, and so how long can we afford to watch our Ummah suffer, in our box or outside our box? That there is a remedy, to do away with our paper walls that give sovereignty to man and instead unify under the one true banner of La ilaha illa-Allah, making our Lord sovereign and uniting our strengths as we did of old. 

But who will be bold enough to make the first move? Who will be the next Saad Ibn Muadh (ra)? Should I forfeit this immense reward to another?

As I decide and as my window of opportunity gradually diminishes, it’s time for another ‘independence’ day celebration, whilst I carry on living in my paper box.