There was a time when legends came to Damascus.
1972 - Muhammad Ali (RA) stood beside Hafez al Assad (RA), who presented The Greatest boxer with a Qur’an and a sword.
Two champions. A Qur’an in their hands. Damascus behind them.
61 AH — DAMASCUS, SYRIA | THE COURT OF YAZID
After the massacre of Karbala, Yazid ibn Muawiya had the surviving family of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ brought before him as captives.
Imam Hussain (AS), the grandson of the Prophet, had been killed. His companions had fallen. His family had witnessed horrors no human heart should ever endure.
And now, in Damascus, Yazid prepared their final humiliation.
He sat elevated upon his throne, surrounded by his commanders, courtiers and spectators.
Before him stood the women and children of the Prophet’s household, exhausted, grieving and carrying the unbearable memories of Karbala.
He wanted the world to see a victorious ruler and a defeated family.
But he had confused the power to kill with the power to defeat.
Because among those captives stood a woman whose father was Imam Ali, whose mother was Fatimah al-Zahra, whose grandfather was the Messenger of Allah ﷺ, and whose brother was the martyred Imam Hussain.
Her name was Zaynab bint Ali (AS).
She had watched those she loved fall at Karbala. She had endured captivity and stood before the ruler whose authority had brought such suffering upon her family.
Yet she did not beg him for mercy.
She did not flatter his throne.
She did not accept the humiliation he had prepared.
She stood before Yazid and made his own palace a witness against him.
In her famous sermon, she challenged him:
“O Yazid! Do you imagine that because you have confined us, closed the horizons against us and driven us here as captives, we have become humiliated before Allah while you have gained honour?”
Imagine the weight of those words.
A woman standing in captivity, asking the ruler of an empire whether he truly believed that possessing power made him righteous.
She exposed the illusion upon which his victory rested:
That the defeated must be dishonoured, and the victorious must be favoured by Allah.
Then she turned his celebration into a warning:
“O Yazid! Employ whatever schemes you possess. Exert every effort. Exhaust every means at your disposal. But by Allah, you shall never erase our remembrance, nor extinguish our revelation, nor destroy our glory.”
These were not the words of someone begging to be remembered.
They were the words of someone who knew that truth would survive long after its persecutors had disappeared.
And today, fourteen centuries later, we see the same thing…
Look at the betrayal, the innocent being persecuted, the families mourning their murdered loved ones, the displaced, the terrified children and the communities living under the shadow of sectarian takfiri and Zionist violence.
Look at those who celebrate their suffering, those who justify it, and the regional powers enabling or shielding the perpetrators.
The Yazids of our time believe that because they possess the weapons, the governments and the backing of powerful states, they possess the favour of Allah.
But this is precisely the arrogance Lady Zaynab exposed in that palace.
And the Qur’an carries a warning that should terrify every oppressor:
“We only grant them respite so that they may increase in sin.” — Qur’an 3:178
And:
“In their hearts is a disease, so Allah increased their disease.” — Qur’an 2:10
The power you celebrate is not a reward, but the very means through which your sins continue to multiply.
Every innocent person you persecute, every crime you excuse and every moment you spend celebrating another family’s suffering only deepens the account you must answer for before Allah?
You mistake His patience for His approval. You mistake His respite for His blessing. You mistake the suffering of the innocent for evidence of your own righteousness.
Just as Yazid did.
Peace be upon Zaynab, the daughter of Ali (AS) — the woman who entered the palace of a ruler as a captive and left his claimed victory exposed before history.
لَبَّيْكِ يَا زَيْنَبُ
Labbayki Ya Zaynab (AS).
I have been hurt. But I chose to become a shield instead of a sword.
Even while I am still fighting just to stay afloat, my instinct is always to reach out and pull others up. That isn't weakness. It is a fierce, rare kind of strength.