Voice of British Muslim Women

Iffat Mirza, Raynes Park

A drop in the ocean is enough for one to drown in.

At least that’s what it felt like when, with one rather nonchalant raising of the hand, the prospect of a ceasefire in Gaza was blocked during the UN Security Council’s vote in December 2023. The reality is that the faith many had in supranational organisations such as the United Nations was already diminishing, and this moment – an image that will haunt some forever – seemed to serve as the nail in the coffin.

This has of course been queried in the past, with His Holiness Mirza Masroor Ahmad (May Allah be his Helper) stating, with immense foresight, in 2012 at Capitol Hill,

“However, today we find that there is division and separation between powerful and weaker nations. For example, in the United Nations we find that there is a distinction made between certain countries. Thus, in the Security Council there are some permanent members and some non-permanent members. This division has proved to be an internal source of anxiety and frustration and thus we regularly hear reports of certain countries protesting against this inequality.”

In moments like this this, optimism, faith in humanity, belief in light triumphing over darkness, everything that seems impossible, becomes paramount. It becomes a matter of life and death.

When millions across the world cry for justice and call for a ceasefire, only to be shut down with one hand, it truly feels like one individual can triumph over a huge collective. It seemed, for a moment, we did not need a whole ocean. For a moment it truly seemed that one treacherous drop was all it took to drown a whole nation in.

But the very oceans that we fear to drown in also carry great vessels which have carried ideas and beliefs across the world. The oceans that facilitated dialogue and, vitally, solidarity.

In what felt like a David versus Goliath moment, the seemingly powerless nations of the world, mostly those designated as (most problematically) ‘Third World’ nations did not take such a defeat lying down and demanded the question of a ceasefire be put before all member states of the UN, leading to an overwhelming vote in favour of a ceasefire. We were reminded of the value in rooting for the underdog, that such optimism does not go wasted, and most importantly, that the collective – when on the right side – can overpower any oppressor, no matter how powerful it may be.

No matter how tall Goliath stands, David stands on the side of justice and indeed is victorious.

His Holiness (May Allah be his Helper) has continued to talk about this imbalance of power, in 2019 stating ‘rather than being content with their own wealth, powerful countries seek to assert their control over weaker nations,’ and indeed such categories of strong nations and weak nations begin to blur in moments like this.

I am reminded of what Portuguese sociologist and professor, Boaventura de Sousa Santos, wrote as he expressed a sense of collectiveness, stating, ‘our time is the time of the return of the humiliated and degraded.’ (1)

He asks the question ‘who are we?’ and powerfully responds, ‘we are the global South, […] We are present at every cardinal point because our geography is the geography of injustice and oppression.’

Indeed, such solidarity, such a reminder that it is not ‘I’ but ‘We’ which will triumph and, justice, when spoken of, in a voice no matter how quiet or meek, will be heard.

Indeed, the voices of peace will be heard ever louder.