a Palestinian child

His crime—he's Palestinian.

The pain runs deeper than the cracks in his dry skin, a century of suffering carved into every line. Salt tears have traced the same paths down his cheeks so many times, like ancient creeks cutting through stone.

He will never surrender.

His body—injured, scarred, hollow-cheeked from hunger—yet his soul remains unbroken. His roots tunnel so deep into the holy land that olive trees sprout from his palms, their branches fed by his own blood. Each drop waters the memory of what was, what is, what must be: free Palestine.

He sees his killer's face, knows the hands that loaded the weapon, recognizes the voices that cheered when the trigger was pulled. Their names will be shamed and forgotten.

Nineteen months without real sleep, dreams interrupted by the thunder of bombs. His stomach longs for the weight of bread, his throat for the coolness of clean water. Home exists now only in the scent of dust he carries on his clothes, his school desks scattered like broken teeth across rubble that once was a children's playground.

Everything taken—walls, windows, family photos, the tree his grandfather planted, the key to doors that no longer exist. Everything except the one thing they cannot touch: his dignity, worn like an invisible crown, passed down through generations like a sacred flame that refuses to be extinguished.

His crime—he's Palestinian. His sentence—to remember. His verdict—to endure. His appeal—to the conscience of the world.

And still, he is just a child.

Ahmad Baker 

May 2025

14 miles

I walked back from Central London after the march, tracked the first 22.5 km, which is the distance from Jerusalem to Beit Nuba, my village that was demolished and wiped off the map after 1967 war

14 miles..

 

 just 14 miles from Jerusalem, once stood My village Beit Nuba. Not only were homes and lives erased, but even the olive groves, why do they hate our olive trees, our history markers. 

Fourteen miles, or 22.5 kilometres – a distance measured not merely in steps, but in the immeasurable pain of 58 years of walking through dispossession, and diaspora. It is the vast distance between the ghostly outlines of a demolished village, and the fervent dreams of a brighter tomorrow.

This path stretches to eternity, a reflection of l years of occupation, of refugees, and the silent ruins of towns and villages holding untold stories. Each footfall echoes the steps of my people, Palestinian people. 

Yet, even here, on these clean London roads, my eyes strain to decipher a different narrative. To look beyond the headlines of loss and despair, finding instead the tenacious green shoots forcing their way through cracks in the pavement, a testament to a resilience that blossoms in each solitary, defiant flower.

 

Our hearts bear the crushing weight of what has been stolen: the profound anguish of thousands of martyred children, the ceaseless torment of daily bombardments, the indignity of queuing for water to quench thirst, food to stave off hunger, even a patch of earth for a decent grave. 

Oh Gaza, 

Oh Gaza, 

Oh Gaza.. 

And yet, still, we walk.

 

Unlike the ephemeral dust on a path, the fleeting scribbles on a wall, or the worn markings on a road, what we carry is enduring. We hold within us olive groves, the scent of wild thyme, sweet watermelons, the unwavering determination reflected in the eyes of those children who remain steadfast. Each worn path, even those now lost, is a history etched not in cold stone, but in the very soul of this soil beneath our feet.

And so, we continue on this road. 

Long, long road.

 

We walk, reciting these chants of hope, planting the seeds of freedom, and spreading the call for justice. We find solace in the shared strength of our resilience, a collective spirit that refuses to be extinguished. For even on this seemingly endless journey, each step taken in solidarity reminds us of the destination we strive towards:

A time when we will no longer read the chronicles of suffering, but instead turn the vibrant pages of a free Palestine.

Ahmad Baker

17.05.2025

do something..

Don't be complicit,

Don't just accept the genocide. How many more images of blown up children do you want to see to be convinced that your silence is contributing to the onslaught of Palestinians.

You will say, what can I do? You will say I'm an individual, I can't change things... 6 or 7 billion people are thinking the same. That’s exactly what those in power want you to believe — that your voice doesn’t matter, that your actions are futile. And when millions think this way, injustice prevails. 

There is so much that can be done, silence is not an option. Here are a few suggestions:

1. Talk about it. Don't be shy, talk to friends, family, colleagues, neighbors and people you meet for the first time. Be the new media, the voice of the victims. 

2. Look for local grassroots movements, join them. Yeah, I know, you are busy, we all are. But surely there is an hour here or there in your week you can spare for some local action. Be the movement you wish it existed. 

3. Boycott products and companies complicit in what's happening. Money and income enable the violence. You don't need to buy these products or support these companies. Let them know you will not allow them to sponsor violence with your money. Be the economic force that hurts this colonial project most. 

4. Write to media outlets, to your local representatives, make supporting Gaza your central political issue. It is a just issue. If your MP doesn't support justice and an end to the violence, would they care about patients in A&E corridors, or inflation? Become political, be the new power. 

5. Show your support. Wear a badge, a symbol to show that you refuse to be silent while innocent children are being harmed. Stand up for injustice. "A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything" malcolm X

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. Do something, don't be complicit. Your silence is complicity.

#FreePalestine #CeasefireNOW #GazaGenocide #stoparmingisrael #SpeakUp

Civilizational Decline and Ethnic Dynamics: A Historical Comparison of Islamic Golden Age and Contemporary Western Society

Civilizational Decline and Ethnic Dynamics: A Historical Comparison of Islamic Golden Age and Contemporary Western Society

The rise and decline of civilizations often follow similar patterns, particularly regarding ethnic dynamics and power structures. I want to highlight the compelling parallel between two significant historical moments: the Islamic Golden Age during the Abbasid period and contemporary Western civilization. Both cases suffered from ethnic superiority claims with and sometimes conflict with civilizational progress.

During the Abbasid Caliphate's golden age, Islamic civilization represented the pinnacle of human achievement. However, it's crucial to note that it was "the greatest civilization of its time" rather than "the greatest civilization ever" - an important distinction that many contemporary thinkers claim about western civilisation nowadays.

The Arab population, as the founders of this Islamic empire, often claimed moral and cultural superiority. However, the civilization's greatest achievements came through contributions from various ethnic groups, for example :

- Ibn Sina (Avicenna), of Persian origin, revolutionised medicine and philosophy

- Al-Khwarizmi, from Central Asia, laid the foundations for algebra and algorithms

- Numerous scientists of Turkish, Kurdish, and other ethnic backgrounds made significant contributions

The tension between Arab cultural dominance and non-Arab achievements created interesting dynamics:

1. The Shu'ubiyya movement (can be loosely translated to Popularism, in reference to population not popular) emerged as a cultural response to Arab claims of superiority

2. Non-Arab rulers (Turks, Seljuks, Kurds) gradually gained political control

3. Some of the most celebrated Islamic leaders, such as Saladin (of Kurdish origin), came from non-Arab backgrounds

Today's Western civilization faces similar dynamics. Some like Douglas Murray, emphasises Western civilization's unprecedented achievements. However, this perspective often overlooks several crucial factors:

1. The multi-ethnic nature of modern scientific and cultural achievements

2. The increasing role of non-Western contributors in technological advancement

3. The global interconnectedness that makes purely "Western" achievements increasingly rare

4. This is only now, things changed in the past and will definitely change in the future 

Shared Patterns between the two ages:

- Claims of ethnic/cultural superiority by founding groups

- Actual progress driven by diverse contributions

- Resistance to changing power dynamics

- The inevitability of multi-ethnic participation in civilisational advancement

The historical parallel reveals that civilizations thrive not through ethnic exclusivity but through inclusive participation. Because an ethnic group started a civilisation does not give them exclusive rights to dominate and control. Just as the Islamic civilization wasn't exclusively Arab despite its Arab origins, Western civilization's future lies not in ethnic preservation but in successfully integrating diverse contributions.

The lesson is clear: civilisational progress requires balancing foundational cultural elements with openness to diverse contributions and adaptation to changing circumstances.

The wheel of time shows that civilisation's advancement requires participation from all quarters. Just as the Islamic civilization transcended its Arab origins to achieve its greatest heights through multi-ethnic contributions, today's Western civilisation faces the challenge of embracing the inevitability and benefit of diverse participation in its future development.

Ahmad Baker