In a world where lies are mass produced and broadcast at the speed of light, I am waging a relentless jihad for truth. It is a struggle of intellect, conscience, and courage to expose propaganda, confront power, and stand with the oppressed wherever they are.

Jihad at its core means exertion and struggle, and it is not confined to the battlefield. It is the exhausting, often lonely work of pushing against injustice, corruption, and moral decay, whether through actions, words, or principled resistance. Many scholars and teachers have stressed that there is a jihad of the self and a jihad of the tongue, where a person fights apathy, fear, and compromise by speaking and defending what is right. In a time when regimes, occupying forces, and their media machines try to control every narrative, this nonviolent jihad for truth becomes a frontline of its own.

Speaking truth to power is not a slogan; it is a deliberate, risky, and disciplined practice. It means looking directly at governments, corporate media, militaries, and intelligence services and refusing to accept their preferred story about war, security, and stability. It means refusing to sanitize genocide as self defense, ethnic cleansing as border security, or economic strangulation as sanctions. Anyone who commits to this path knows the costs can include censorship, smears, attempts to silence them, and even threats to their safety, but they walk it anyway because silence would be a betrayal of both conscience and history.

The war on Palestine has become one of the defining moral tests of our generation. The world has watched entire neighborhoods erased, families wiped from the civil registry, and basic infrastructure like hospitals, schools, and water systems systematically destroyed in the name of security. Legal experts, human rights workers, and people on the ground have warned that the scale and pattern of violence meets the threshold of mass atrocities and plausibly genocide, yet the machinery of international law sputters and stalls. Western capitals that preach human rights and a rules based order continue to arm, fund, and shield these crimes, revealing a hypocrisy so brazen that even many who once trusted the system can no longer ignore it.

Palestine is not an isolated tragedy; it is a mirror held up to the global order. In Sudan, Yemen, and other places, entire populations are trapped between foreign backed warlords, proxy conflicts, and economic collapse, while the same powers that lecture the world on democracy treat their lives as expendable. Media attention comes and goes, but the underlying structures of arms trading, resource theft, and geopolitical bargaining remain in place. In each of these places, truth itself is a battlefield, where narratives are twisted to justify intervention in one context and indifference in another.

To wage a jihad for truth in this environment is to accept that the struggle is continuous and multilayered. It begins with the inner jihad, refusing to let despair, cynicism, or tribalism corrode one’s moral compass. That means interrogating personal biases, checking sources, and being willing to correct mistakes instead of clinging to comforting myths or partisan talking points. It requires the humility to listen to people directly affected by violence and oppression, rather than speaking over them or reducing their lives to content.

The outer jihad for truth plays out across platforms, networks, and public spaces. Joining multiple social media platforms was never about chasing clout or building a shiny brand; it was about creating channels to share inconvenient facts, suppressed voices, and counter narratives that challenge imperial storylines. Every thread, article, and long form breakdown becomes a small act of resistance against the mass production of consent. The algorithms may favor distraction and cheap outrage, but consistent, well researched, morally grounded work can still cut through, especially when communities choose to amplify it.

This jihad for truth is explicitly nonviolent, but it is not passive. It demands discipline in reading original documents, reports, testimonies, and investigations instead of relying only on headlines or viral clips. It demands precision in language and calling things by their real names, whether that is occupation, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, or genocide, because words shape what people believe is acceptable. It demands refusing to dilute reality with fake balance when there is a clear power imbalance, and instead centering the experiences of those who are being bombed, starved, or displaced.

There is also a communal side to this struggle. Truth telling is not just about broadcasting; it is about building networks of trust, solidarity, and shared analysis among journalists, researchers, activists, and ordinary people of conscience. When people across different countries cross check facts, translate materials, document abuses, and support each other against harassment, they turn isolated voices into a chorus that is harder to ignore or erase. That kind of collective effort embodies a deeper ethic of jihad, which is to strive together for justice when formal institutions have failed.

For Arab and Muslim societies, this era has exposed not only external domination but also internal decay. Puppet rulers depend on foreign backing rather than genuine public support, so they align more readily with Washington or Tel Aviv than with their own people. Speaking honestly about this betrayal, about security cooperation with occupiers, normalization with apartheid, and the repression of dissent at home, is itself part of the jihad for truth. It means refusing to romanticize any state, bloc, or ideology, and instead holding all centers of power to the same moral standard.

As 2025 turns into 2026, celebration feels hollow while bombs fall on Gaza, bullets tear through Sudanese streets, and hunger stalks Yemeni families. Yet despair is a luxury the oppressed cannot afford, and anyone who claims to stand with them cannot afford it either. The only honest response is renewed commitment to research, documentation, storytelling, and the relentless exposure of the systems that profit from death and dispossession. When that commitment is sustained day after day and year after year, it transforms mere content creation into a genuine jihad for truth.

In the new year, this struggle will continue, not as a branding exercise or a brief wave of outrage, but as a disciplined, long term vocation. The goal is not simply to be right online, but to help shift public consciousness enough that states and institutions can no longer commit atrocities without scrutiny and resistance. As long as there are people whose suffering is hidden, distorted, or denied, the duty remains: to wage this jihad for truth with every tool available, so that future generations cannot say they did not know.

In a world where lies are mass produced and broadcast at the speed of light, I am waging a relentless jihad for truth. It is a struggle of intellect, conscience, and courage to expose propaganda, confront power, and stand with the oppressed wherever they are.

Jihad at its core means exertion and struggle, and it is not confined to the battlefield. It is the exhausting, often lonely work of pushing against injustice, corruption, and moral decay, whether through actions, words, or principled resistance. Many scholars and teachers have stressed that there is a jihad of the self and a jihad of the tongue, where a person fights apathy, fear, and compromise by speaking and defending what is right. In a time when regimes, occupying forces, and their media machines try to control every narrative, this nonviolent jihad for truth becomes a frontline of its own.

Speaking truth to power is not a slogan; it is a deliberate, risky, and disciplined practice. It means looking directly at governments, corporate media, militaries, and intelligence services and refusing to accept their preferred story about war, security, and stability. It means refusing to sanitize genocide as self defense, ethnic cleansing as border security, or economic strangulation as sanctions. Anyone who commits to this path knows the costs can include censorship, smears, attempts to silence them, and even threats to their safety, but they walk it anyway because silence would be a betrayal of both conscience and history.

The war on Palestine has become one of the defining moral tests of our generation. The world has watched entire neighborhoods erased, families wiped from the civil registry, and basic infrastructure like hospitals, schools, and water systems systematically destroyed in the name of security. Legal experts, human rights workers, and people on the ground have warned that the scale and pattern of violence meets the threshold of mass atrocities and plausibly genocide, yet the machinery of international law sputters and stalls. Western capitals that preach human rights and a rules based order continue to arm, fund, and shield these crimes, revealing a hypocrisy so brazen that even many who once trusted the system can no longer ignore it.

Palestine is not an isolated tragedy; it is a mirror held up to the global order. In Sudan, Yemen, and other places, entire populations are trapped between foreign backed warlords, proxy conflicts, and economic collapse, while the same powers that lecture the world on democracy treat their lives as expendable. Media attention comes and goes, but the underlying structures of arms trading, resource theft, and geopolitical bargaining remain in place. In each of these places, truth itself is a battlefield, where narratives are twisted to justify intervention in one context and indifference in another.

To wage a jihad for truth in this environment is to accept that the struggle is continuous and multilayered. It begins with the inner jihad, refusing to let despair, cynicism, or tribalism corrode one’s moral compass. That means interrogating personal biases, checking sources, and being willing to correct mistakes instead of clinging to comforting myths or partisan talking points. It requires the humility to listen to people directly affected by violence and oppression, rather than speaking over them or reducing their lives to content.

The outer jihad for truth plays out across platforms, networks, and public spaces. Joining multiple social media platforms was never about chasing clout or building a shiny brand; it was about creating channels to share inconvenient facts, suppressed voices, and counter narratives that challenge imperial storylines. Every thread, article, and long form breakdown becomes a small act of resistance against the mass production of consent. The algorithms may favor distraction and cheap outrage, but consistent, well researched, morally grounded work can still cut through, especially when communities choose to amplify it.

This jihad for truth is explicitly nonviolent, but it is not passive. It demands discipline in reading original documents, reports, testimonies, and investigations instead of relying only on headlines or viral clips. It demands precision in language and calling things by their real names, whether that is occupation, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, or genocide, because words shape what people believe is acceptable. It demands refusing to dilute reality with fake balance when there is a clear power imbalance, and instead centering the experiences of those who are being bombed, starved, or displaced.

There is also a communal side to this struggle. Truth telling is not just about broadcasting; it is about building networks of trust, solidarity, and shared analysis among journalists, researchers, activists, and ordinary people of conscience. When people across different countries cross check facts, translate materials, document abuses, and support each other against harassment, they turn isolated voices into a chorus that is harder to ignore or erase. That kind of collective effort embodies a deeper ethic of jihad, which is to strive together for justice when formal institutions have failed.

For Arab and Muslim societies, this era has exposed not only external domination but also internal decay. Puppet rulers depend on foreign backing rather than genuine public support, so they align more readily with Washington or Tel Aviv than with their own people. Speaking honestly about this betrayal, about security cooperation with occupiers, normalization with apartheid, and the repression of dissent at home, is itself part of the jihad for truth. It means refusing to romanticize any state, bloc, or ideology, and instead holding all centers of power to the same moral standard.

As 2025 turns into 2026, celebration feels hollow while bombs fall on Gaza, bullets tear through Sudanese streets, and hunger stalks Yemeni families. Yet despair is a luxury the oppressed cannot afford, and anyone who claims to stand with them cannot afford it either. The only honest response is renewed commitment to research, documentation, storytelling, and the relentless exposure of the systems that profit from death and dispossession. When that commitment is sustained day after day and year after year, it transforms mere content creation into a genuine jihad for truth.

In the new year, this struggle will continue, not as a branding exercise or a brief wave of outrage, but as a disciplined, long term vocation. The goal is not simply to be right online, but to help shift public consciousness enough that states and institutions can no longer commit atrocities without scrutiny and resistance. As long as there are people whose suffering is hidden, distorted, or denied, the duty remains: to wage this jihad for truth with every tool available, so that future generations cannot say they did not know.