✒️:. Javid Hassan Beigh
“We’re not going to have any casualties.”
This was the confident assertion made by George W. Bush before the invasion of Iraq. He further assured the world that it was unlikely there would be internecine warfare among Iraq’s religious and ethnic communities. Dick Cheney, equally enthusiastic, declared that American forces would be “greeted as liberators” and that the war would conclude swiftly—“weeks rather than months”—with the streets of Basra and Baghdad erupting in joy.
History tells a very different story. By the time President Bush left office in January 2009, 4,539 American servicemen and women had lost their lives, and nearly 31,000 had been wounded in the Iraq War. The Iraqi toll—civilian and military—was exponentially higher, leaving a nation shattered and a region destabilized.
What makes this tragedy even more troubling is the absence of any direct Iraqi involvement in the events of September 11, 2001. Not a single Iraqi national participated in the attacks, nor was Saddam Hussein or his government implicated. Why, then, was war imposed upon Iraq?
The American government offered two justifications: first, that Saddam Hussein was linked to the 9/11 attacks, and second, that Iraq possessed—or was on the verge of developing—weapons of mass destruction. Both claims later collapsed under scrutiny.
In truth, the roots of the invasion stretch further back. In 1998, during President Bill Clinton’s administration, a letter signed by several prominent Republicans urged the removal of Saddam Hussein to safeguard American interests in the Gulf and ensure the security of Israel and other allied Arab states. When George W. Bush assumed office, Paul Wolfowitz, then Deputy Secretary of Defense, advocated striking Iraq as soon as “the right way” could be found. Around the same time, Pentagon consultant Michael Ledeen bluntly remarked that every decade or so, the United States needed to “pick up some small crappy little country and throw it against the wall” to demonstrate its power.
Such thinking was reinforced by deeply troubling rhetoric. Senator Lindsey Graham once framed global conflict in starkly religious terms, portraying Islam itself as an existential enemy that could not be negotiated with or accommodated. Statements of this nature did not merely justify war abroad; they also legitimized fear, suspicion, and hatred at home.
The consequences of this mindset are now visible across the world. With each passing day, planet Earth is becoming a more dangerous place. Followers of the Abrahamic faiths—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—find themselves locked in cycles of mistrust and violence. Even within these communities, internal divisions frequently erupt into conflict when an external enemy is absent.
At this critical juncture, the responsibility of religious leadership becomes paramount—particularly within the Muslim world. Muslim clerics hold immense moral influence over their communities. Their words can either soothe wounded hearts or inflame already smoldering resentments.
This is not a call for surrender, silence, or the abandonment of faith. Rather, it is an appeal for wisdom. The Qur’an repeatedly emphasizes justice, restraint, and mercy, even in times of adversity. Fueling hatred—whether toward other faiths or among fellow Muslims—only serves the interests of those who profit from endless conflict.
In a world eager to divide, religious leaders must choose to heal. By promoting dialogue over denunciation, understanding over anger, and shared humanity over rigid hostility, Muslim clerics can play a vital role in preventing future generations from inheriting a planet permanently at war with itself.
True strength lies not in perpetual confrontation, but in moral clarity, patience, and the courage to rise above the politics of fear.
About the Author :. Javid Hassan Beigh is MLA Baramulla



