Mr. President,

"One of your advisors might say that these words have no place in the calculus of power and interests. And they would be right. Therefore, I invite you to read this not as the leader of the most powerful nation in the world, but as a human being who possesses the ability to cultivate meaning in a world that has come to believe only in force. For this letter is not about interests, but about the legacy that remains after all calculations fall silent."

History, as the Lebanese thinker Michel Chiha tells us, is not a narrative that is told, but a force that takes shape. It always favors the strong, yet it only remembers those who master the art of shaping power into intellect, not brutality; into vision, not oppression. For in every century, the world rewrites itself—not with ink, but with the balance of power, and with humanity’s capacity for knowledge, culture, and the rediscovery of man.

On the eastern edge of the world, Stalin lay in a deathly coma, none in his entourage daring to touch him, fearing his tyranny even as he lay dying. A man whose despotism was so absolute that his death outpaced his court's ability to break through the barrier of fear. He died because the rule of force alone neither builds a nation nor founds a civilization.

In stark contrast, the United States was undergoing its own great test: breaking the final chains of racism and declaring that every human being deserves a place in the American Dream. This culminated in the rise of Barack Obama, a man of African descent, to the White House. This was not merely a political event, but a declaration that a great nation is built on the will for justice, not on the color of skin.

In that same moment, a third world was worshiping ancient texts, too fearful to question them, measuring the validity of knowledge by its age rather than its proof. Meanwhile, your nation was unraveling the mysteries of the cosmos, questioning existence itself, and pushing scientists to the very frontiers of the human mind. Thus, science triumphed over superstition, knowledge over stagnation, and humanity over money.

America, from outside the confines of ideology, applied the essence of Marx’s thought by investing in the human being; the essence of the commandments of Christ and Muhammad in fostering justice among people; and the essence of Eastern wisdom when it harnessed the sun and the stars in the service of scientific discovery. It is thus—and only thus—that great nations are born.

Mr. President,

It is no surprise that many disagree with you; great nations are like mountains: they cannot be seen from a single angle. But I speak to you today from another place, from the margins where I was born, from the history of a community that has been wronged in proportion to its love for humanity.

I am Shia, and I am not asking for privileges.

I am the son of a school of thought that began fourteen centuries ago with a man named Ali ibn Abi Talib. He was the leader of the Muslims, yet he was insulted in the streets due to tribal fanaticism, and still, he never sought revenge. For him, the state was a contract between a person and their conscience, not between a sultan and his subjects. He was murdered while praying; on that day, the tribal mind triumphed over justice. Then came his grandson, Hussein. He rose not to seek a throne, but to demand a justice that vindicates humanity. He was overcome by swords, not because he was weak, but because his voice was ahead of its time.

We, their followers, have never been people of armies or thrones. We are a minority that refused the privileges offered by the French and British occupations, choosing instead to stand behind the Muslim majority. Yet we were always at the forefront when sacrifice was demanded, and at the back of the line when spoils were divided. We have never held hatred for anyone, nor have we fought anyone, except in defense of humanity and the land.

Today, some may say that the Shia are to blame for defending the children of Gaza while a billion and a half Arabs and Muslims remained silent. But what logic is this? Had it been Christians suffering such injustice, we would have done the exact same. For we are the ones who cherished the Christian intellect when it wrote of Imam Ali the most beautiful words on justice, even as many of our co-religionists declared us heretics.

Perhaps, Mr. President, we are guilty of our own goodness. Guilty because we still believe that a human being has inherent value. But this guilt does not merit annihilation, nor displacement, nor destruction.

I write to you not in defense of a sect, but in defense of the meaning of justice itself. For history, as Chiha teaches us, has no mercy for nations that act in a moment of madness, because great nations are measured by their ability to restrain their rage.

Before you, Mr. President, lies an opportunity to leave an indelible mark: for it to be said one day that America held fast to its scientific and humanitarian legacy; that it looked beyond the fleeting moment; and that it chose wisdom over impulse. This, and this alone, is the power that builds a new world.

It is neither wise nor a reflection of the balance of power for it to be said that America triumphed over the Shia. Our lands do not equal the size of one of your battleships crossing the oceans. Nor is it a show of strength, as you govern eight billion people, to overpower a mere one and a half million in a third world that needs you to restore its balance.

Mr. President,

When the Second World War struck the heart of Japan, the Emperor realized the futility of challenging the world and announced his surrender to preserve what was left of his people. Perhaps some would say today that the Shia must walk the same path and raise the white flag in the face of the storm.

But the truth, Mr. President, is that the Shia did not enter a war to exit with negotiations, gains, or raised flags. They entered it only because the cries of children being buried under the rubble in Gaza pierced their hearts. They did not think of victory, nor of defeat, nor even of survival. Furthermore, all the flags of surrender in the world cannot equal our grief and pain for the loss of loved ones who were our entire life. And nothing can compensate for the feeling of betrayal in our souls, from people to whom we gave everything we had, only for our fate to be waiting for one of them to turn on us and kill us under the banner that we are infidels or people of falsehood.

Mr. President, because of our noble and selfless compassion, we are living our most perilous existential moments. We are not safe with the West, for we believed the words of the people of the East more than they themselves did, because we are sincere. And we did not know that the people of the East would never accept us, no matter what we did, because we believe there is no difference between a Christian, a Jew, or a Buddhist. For if one is not your brother in faith, he is your equal in humanity.

Mr. President, our sin was to place our bodies and our souls between death and those who cried for help. History is filled with those who were called "fools" because they leaped into a raging river to save a drowning person, or rushed into a burning building to save a child they did not know. But these people, in the final balance, were not fools; they were the rare voice of humanity when all other voices fall silent.

Mr. President,

We have not slaughtered a child. We have not bombed a church or a mosque. Likewise, we have not kidnapped a girl. We have not killed a prisoner. Likewise, we do not possess a project of annihilation, nor one of domination. Our only "danger" is that we hear what the world does not want to hear: the cry of the oppressed human being.

Yes, the Shia rushed to defend the Palestinian—a human being abandoned by his closest kin. But Mr. President, even if the world disagrees with the Shia, the Shia must not be killed. And—what is more dangerous—their humanity must not be killed. Because to kill a human being for taking a humane stance is the moment the world loses the last of its conscience.

Mr. President, if you wish to be immortalized in a world where there is little left to discover, then discover, at this crucial juncture, the wisdom of extending a hand to the Shia—not to punish them for their humanity, but to close a chapter of pain that the Shia people have endured for fourteen hundred years.

With utmost respect,

Naji Ali Amhaz

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