As a Middle Easterner, I see millions of people across my region softly singing melodies of sorrow and longing, not just today but every few years, as history continues to repeat itself.
 
These days, in Lebanon, people sing “Li Beirut Min Qalbi Salam” (“To Beirut, from my heart, peace”) by the legendary Fairuz, a song that echoes the pain and beauty of a city wounded by war yet full of love.
 
In Iran, anxious voices worried about the possibility of a war, rise with “Vatan Parandeh Sar Dar Khoon” (“My homeland, a bird covered in blood”) by the beloved singer Dariush, capturing the heartbreaking imagery of a homeland trapped in endless cycles of oppression and corruption.
 
The tragic irony is that these poems and songs were not written recently. They were composed decades ago. Yet, as the suffering in our region never truly ends, they remain just as powerful and relevant.
 
As Lotfi Bouchnak said in an interview, “the artist is a witness of his time, a witness to the suffering of people everywhere, in the wars, destruction and blood all over the world”.
 
Our beautiful homelands, trapped in the grip of radicalism and violence, are ruled by corrupt and incapable tyrants. Yet, we, the people of the Middle East, are far closer than we often realise. What unites us is far more powerful, far more profound, than what divides us.
 
Beyond race, beyond religion, beyond sectarian differences, we are one. What binds us is our shared culture and music, our ancient civilisations that have shaped the course of history.
 
Each of our homelands is the cradle of a civilisation stretching back thousands of years. From Jerusalem to Baalbek, from Damascus to Baghdad and Istanbul, from Cairo to Persepolis – we share a legacy that transcends borders, one that continues to live within us, regardless of whether we speak Persian or Arabic or Hebrew.
 
Only when we truly embrace this core of unity, setting aside the meaningless divisions of being Arab, Persian, or Jew, will we find peace.
 
Being Muslim, Jewish, or Christian is secondary to our identity. Our shared culture should always take precedence over religion, race, or ethnicity.
 
The diversity of our religions and ethnicities should enhance the beauty of our Middle Eastern culture, not overshadow it.
 
We are all children of this land. Arabs, Jews, and Persians alike have ancient roots that run deep through this region.
 
 These are the things that connect us, the simple joys and shared heritage that bind us together, far stronger than any labels that divide us.