A Silent Ummah, a Burning Land: The Strike on Iran, Israel’s Dance, America’s Fire, and the Collapse of the Muslim World
By Raja Zahid Akhtar Khanzada
The moment has finally arrived—one that had long smoldered beneath the ashes of history.
When B-2 bombers carved through the sky, and Esfahan screamed from the earth.
When the secrets buried deep within mountains were laid bare by firelight,
And a child in Tehran’s alleyways asked his mother:
“Mama, are we next? Will we become the next Gaza?”
When the ground trembled beneath Fordow, Natanz, and Esfahan, it was not just the mountains that shuddered
It was the graves of civilizations, where hope was once laid to rest and faith fell silent.
This was not merely an assault on nuclear sites.
It was a bombing of an idea—an identity rooted in centuries, now being erased,
Not through weapons alone, but through the indifference of a world grown numb.
This was no ordinary military operation.
It was a sin a sin witnessed by the United Nations, who chose silence over justice,
And by the Muslim Ummah, who bowed their heads and sealed their silence with passive approval.
The attack on Persia, cradle of civilization, was led by that Western coalition which claims the banners of justice, law, and liberty.
But when B-2 bombers descended upon Iran’s slumbering valleys,
And when 30,000-pound bunker busters tore through dreams buried deep within the earth,
Not one council, not one institution, not a single resolution dared to speak against this massacre masquerading as peace.
And what a spectacle it was—those bombs weren’t meant to destroy facilities alone.
They aimed to shatter Iran’s dignity, erase its memory, and crush the soul of its civilization.
But even today, in Tehran’s streets, people whisper:
“We are made from dust, but we will not become dust.”
The United Nations an institution with “human rights” engraved on its walls—
Once again stood as a mute, blind clown in a circus of injustice.
Just as it remained silent after 38,000 Palestinians were massacred in Gaza,
Today it stands, wordless, over the ruins of Fordow, Natanz, and Esfahan.
The conscience of the UN died long ago When it watched Israel tear through the fabric of human rights and yet only affirmed “Israel’s right to defend itself.” And now, as nuclear facilities lie in rubble, the same tired phrase returns:
“We urge all parties to exercise restraint.” If only that institution were a mother, watching her two sons tear each other apart At least then, her tears would have been real.
I no longer know whether the Muslim Ummah is wounded or already dead.
This was the same Ummah that once shook Pharaohs on the battlefield of Badr, That once fixed its gaze upon Jerusalem as the beating heart of faith. Now it is reduced to verbal condemnations, symbolic summits, and hollow tweets.
This is the Ummah in whose name millions were martyred,
Whose flag bears the words “La ilaha illallah” yet whose heart sleeps soundly.
In the wake of this crisis, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and Oman issued their ritual condemnations.
Turkey, once a vocal champion of Gaza, now remains in contemplative silence over Iran.
And Pakistan?
It stands precariously on the brittle bridge of global balance Unwilling to sever ties with Iran, but equally reluctant to displease America.
No Gulf monarchy dares let go of its oil wells,
No sultan embraces the anguish of the Iranian people as his own.
Some seek to pave new trade routes;
Others boast of begging for Israeli technology as if it’s a badge of honor.
Is this the same Ummah whose companions once shouted “Ya Rasul Allah!” and broke the gates of Khaybar?
Are today’s rulers descendants of Umar, Ali, Salahuddin, or Nuruddin Zangi Or merely the custodians of their names, engraved on palace walls?
Has our sense of honor been reduced to guarding borders alone?
Will we only awaken when the fire falls upon the pulpits of our mosques?
At This Moment, Iran Weeps While Israel Laughs, Iran, once a towering beacon of knowledge and civilization for centuries, now lies buried beneath ash and silence.
By raining missiles upon Yazd, Bushehr, and Ahvaz, Israel has declared openly: defense is no longer the goal preemptive aggression is now part of its ideological mission.
And the very West, which mourned Nazi atrocities for decades, now watches silently or worse, applauds—the destruction of Iran, Palestine, and Lebanon at the hands of Israel.
But amid the darkness, a few lamps still flicker.
In the streets of New York, London, Berlin, and Paris, awakened Western souls stand in protest.
A Jewish child holds a placard that reads: “Not in our name.”
An elderly Christian woman chants against the bombings under London’s drizzling skies.
A Berlin schoolteacher tells his students, “This is not peace it is devastation.”
These are consciences still alive—souls with no religious connection to Iran, but a human one.
And today, they hold up a mirror to the Muslim world’s silence.
For oppression is not just the act of the tyrant; it is a system. One that strikes Iran today… but may land at another doorstep tomorrow.
Pakistan now stands at that historic crossroads where every direction spells danger:
To the east, India’s cunning Israel’s strategic partner;
To the west, Iran a brother and a test of resolve;
To the north, China—silent yet ever-watchful;
And to the south, the Gulf states shielded by oil wealth and the American umbrella, trembling beneath their own shadows.
Pakistan, a nuclear power cloaked in diplomatic fragility, today watches as a quiet spectator, clutching a fragile stick of balance. Yet in that balance lies the burning earth of Iran, the heat of Saudi interests, the pressure of America, and the shadow of Indian maneuvers.
And so the question stands:
Is this Pakistan’s test or its apathy?
The threat is not merely economic; it is ideological.
If Pakistan remains silent today, tomorrow this same fire may knock at its own door. And then, perhaps, answers will be far harder to give.
Iran, a nation that symbolizes 2,500 years of civilization, philosophy, and resistance, is not merely a pile of bricks and rubble today. It still breathes with wisdom, patience, and strategic acumen. Iranian leadership has made it clear: retaliation will come but at a time, and in a manner, of their choosing. And perhaps the real strike will be the one that comes just when the world believes Iran has lost.
Iran now stands before three paths:
First, immediate revenge glimpsed already in the missiles that struck Tel Aviv and Haifa;
Second, quiet preparation waiting for the enemy’s moment of weakness and complacency; Third, diplomatic maneuvering returning to the global stage under the shelter of China and Russia.
But the most powerful response is often the one delivered in silence when it echoes loudest. If Iran truly closes the Strait of Hormuz, it will choke the world’s energy lifeline.
Oil prices may soar to $130 per barrel.
The global economy may tremble.
Inflation will surge across Europe.
And nations like Pakistan will be crushed between the millstones of economic collapse, unemployment, and social unrest.
If the United States launches more attacks, they will not only strike Iran—
They will strike the very principles upon which the United Nations was built. These would be assaults not on a nation, but on the moral conscience of humanity.
And perhaps yet another Arab nation will once again be reduced to ashes in the name of democracy—
Where human rights plaques are hammered atop ruins.
Iran burns today.
And when a civilization burns, it is not only buildings that are los. It is the hands of humanity that blister.
The question is not just what happened
But what did we do?
When the ashes of Fordow settle,
When the walls of Natanz cease to testify. Will we merely scroll past the news? Did we tweet? Did we fall into prayer? Or did we raise our voices against injustice?
This is not merely a war on Iran. This is a war on our conscience. This is not a battle of bombs. It is a battle for the soul of humanity. Are international laws only written for the powerful?
Are nuclear weapons only acceptable for those with veto power? Is the Muslim Ummah nothing more than a faded story in old books?
And if the answer to these questions is silence.
Then hear this:
One day, history itself will scream the answers aloud. And perhaps… by then… we will no longer be able to hear them.
