Will This Two-Year Nightmare Finally Be Over?

Blessed be the peacemakers, for they carry the heaviest burden and receive the smallest applause. But history, in time, remembers them differently—as the ones who stood steadfast in the storm.

Months before the horror of October 7th, the Middle East seemed to be standing on the precipice of a new chapter. When Mohammed bin Salman sat down with Fox News, he spoke with a confidence that suggested a new regional order was being written. He signaled an end to old hostilities and the beginning of something that could finally bridge the great divides of our time. He spoke the language of possibility, of choosing pragmatism over paranoia.

Israeli businesses were opening in the UAE. There was talk of joint ventures, innovation, and exchange. Flights that were once impossible became routine as airspace opened up. For a brief moment, the dreamers among us believed that the region could finally be defined by cooperation rather than conflict. The headlines spoke of normalization, but beneath the surface, something more sinister and deeply rooted was stirring.

What we could not see then was how much resentment still festered below the façade. It was an ancient, inherited anger that never truly died, only slept. When it awoke, it did so with fire and vengeance. October 7th shattered lives and dismantled lofty illusions. The world watched in horror as the region once again descended into hatred and war. Every ounce of progress, every handshake, every whisper of coexistence was swept away by a tide of blood.

What emerged in the aftermath was grief combined with spiritual exhaustion. Those who had dared to hope were ridiculed. Those who had spoken about peace were accused of weakness. Extremists on all sides grew louder. Hatred was reborn as virtue, and vengeance was once again dressed in the language of justice.

For those of us working at Ideas Beyond Borders, this period was more than just a geopolitical tragedy; it was deeply personal to us. Our mission has always been to promote understanding, critical thinking, and hope in places where despair has long been the norm. But during these two years, it often felt like trying to plant flowers in a firestorm. Every day brought new statements dripping with venom, new activists consumed by rage, new divisions between people who once stood together. Our team mourned, but we pressed forward—more convinced than ever of why our work matters.

We saw organizations crumble under pressure, friendships dissolve in ideological battles, and coalitions fracture beyond repair. Tens of thousands of lives were lost. And those who profited most were not the moderates or the reformers, but the zealots and tribalists who thrive in the turmoil. They celebrated chaos while preaching purity. They seized the opportunity to solidify power out of a period of extreme polarization.

The cost of this madness can’t solely be measured in blood—but in belief. The psychological toll was immense. Many who once believed in the promise of a freer and more prosperous Middle East began to withdraw. They became silent, or worse, cynical. Hope itself became suspect. Words like “coexistence” and “dialogue” began to sound like naïve fantasies, and they were derided as such.

But I refuse to give up on them. Because if cynicism wins, if the extremists and the absolutists get to define what is possible, then everything we have fought for becomes meaningless. The alternative to hope is not realism; it is surrender. And surrender is precisely what the region’s most destructive forces have always desired.

At IBB, we were often told we were “too moderate,” as if moderation were a flaw, as if refusing to dehumanize the other side rendered us irrelevant. But history remembers those who persist in truth when it is hardest to do so. To build bridges while bombs fall is to insist on our shared humanity.

We continued our work through the noise and the hate because the alternative was unthinkable. We translated books that open minds. We supported creators who challenge dogma and entrepreneurs who see in the ruins not just despair, but opportunity. We did it not because it was easy, but because it was right.

This dark period must never be repeated. The past two years should stand as a warning of how quickly humanity can regress when we abandon dialogue and empathy. We are not destined to be indefinitely divided, allowing hatred to fuel our ambitions. It is a choice, cultivated through fear, ignorance, and manipulation.

The tragedy is that so many intelligent, well-meaning people fell for it once again.

The truth is, we are not the same people we were two years ago. The war changed us all. Some became hardened, others more introspective. For many, faith in peace was broken. But perhaps through this suffering, we have learned what peace truly demands. Photographs of leaders shaking hands do not suffice. It takes patient, lonely labor to rebuild trust in societies where betrayal and vengeance have become second nature.

The extremists may have won these past two years, but their victory is hollow. They can destroy, but they cannot create. They can silence, but they cannot inspire.

The real power lies with those who still dare to imagine a better future for this region. Those who still believe that Arabs and Israelis, Sunnis and Shias, and liberals and conservatives can coexist without the sword between them.

Blessed be the peacemakers, for they carry the heaviest burden and receive the smallest applause. But history, in time, remembers them differently. It remembers them as the ones who stood steadfast in the storm and refused to move.

The Middle East does not need another generation of martyrs. It needs a generation of builders, people who turn anger into ambition, and pain into progress. The nightmare of the last two years has tested everything we believed in. Yet even in the ruins, there are seeds of renewal waiting to grow.

Perhaps this is the true lesson: peace was never supposed to be easy. It was always supposed to be fought for.

Middle East Uncovered is powered by Ideas Beyond Borders. The views expressed in Middle East Uncovered are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Ideas Beyond Borders.