Mourners carry an Iranian and a Palestinian national flag during the funeral procession for Iranian military commanders. Photo: Atta Kenare/​AFP/​Getty Images.
By Moussa Al-Sadah – Jul 1, 2025
Historical experience shows that a central pillar of any people’s liberation from colonial rule is the construction of a cohesive national identity. This identity enables the formation of a political community capable of effectively mobilizing military and political tools through a common framework. It allows society to organize itself under the umbrella of a national identity, or what Benedict Anderson calls a “cultural system.” Wars are thus fought by invoking and activating the cultural and historical legacy of this system.
The formation of national identities in the Global South was directly tied to collective efforts towards decolonization. In many cases, identities shaped through war and confrontation, born in opposition to colonial rule, proved more coherent and resilient than those crafted under colonial supervision or permission.
In our struggle against Zionism, the creation of a counter-identity and a unified cultural front remains a key battleground. It is also, arguably, where we have seen the greatest regression: a site of constant dismantling, despite occasional steps toward reconstruction.
Our colonial adversary, the Zionist project, suffers from a structural flaw in its effort to build a coherent national identity. This flaw lies in the very nature of Zionism itself, which, without revisiting its full details, can be summed up as incapable of expressing itself as a modern national formation except through an excess of power. As that power recedes and its crises are exposed, the project reveals itself as fractured, marked by divisions even within Jewish sectarianism. Zionism also shifts in how it presents itself, at times as a modern national group, at other times as a religious community, depending on its global positioning. But within its regional struggle, it clearly tends to view itself and others through a sectarian lens, a logic that overwhelmingly shapes its strategic vision.
These contradictions can be observed in how others respond to Zionism. Within Zionist society itself, periods of strength are often accompanied by an attempt to theorize and normalize its settler-colonial presence, presenting it as a legitimate national project. Dr. Azmi Bishara, for example, characterizes the Palestinian-Zionist relationship as one between “two distinct national personalities and their aspirations,” in his own words.
A second dynamic is Zionism’s ongoing interest in the rise of sectarian identities in its surroundings, whether under the pretense of mobilizing to neutralize them or to co-opt them in the name of reconciliation.
But today, the most significant factor at play is Zionism’s crisis when faced with a cohesive national identity. This is a crisis not only of discourse and legitimacy but of political practice. It undermines the very logic of Zionism’s founding, just as it did during its confrontation with Arab nationalism at its peak.
We do not need to rely solely on historical examples to understand this crisis. The present offers a vivid case: the Iranian national experience. In the face of Zionist-American aggression, Iran demonstrates the power of a robust national identity in two critical dimensions: first, in unifying a diverse and even internally divided population against external threats; and second, in exposing Zionism’s inability to exploit ethnic and cultural fractures, a colonial tactic it has historically relied upon.
In the ideological struggle between identities, Zionism’s narrow and fragile sectarianism is no match for Iran’s deeply rooted, civilizational identity, one that blends historical continuity with spiritual and political conviction.
This lesson is crucial for Arabs, facing deep fragmentation and a steady erosion of national identity. While al-Aqsa Flood operation sparked a partial reawakening of the Arab civilizational consciousness and challenged colonial political borders, the crisis remains unstable and demands urgent reassessment.
The operation reaffirmed the fundamental truth that the struggle against Zionism is inseparable from the adoption of a strong, rooted identity. Fragmented sectarian affiliations are too weak to withstand the Zionist military machine and the massive support it receives from the collective West. As mostly contemporary constructs, fragmented national identities lack the depth to draw on the broader Arab civilizational legacy: limited in cultural scope, disconnected from history and geography, and often failing to genuinely represent their people. In times of crisis, invoking them is like brandishing a wooden sword against a cannon.
This weakness became clear during the Zionist assault on Lebanon, especially in attempts to rally Lebanese national identity as a defense, such as the hashtag “Great Wall of Lebanon” in late November 2024. These gestures signaled a departure from the resistance experience of 2000 and 2006, which drew strength from a broader Arab and Islamic civilizational consciousness. As the martyred leader Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah once said, “You are fighting a people who take pride in their history, civilization, and culture.” That is exactly what Zionists should expect in any future confrontation with South Lebanon.
Sectarian identities are also weak because of their limited and exclusive loyalties, whether ethnic, tribal, or religious. Despite their rhetoric, they often lack deep spiritual grounding. Facing a dominant colonial power requires more than sectarian fervor; it requires a spiritual presence, a faith that can bridge the material disparity with the enemy.
This is not unique to the Arab world. In other anti-colonial struggles, attempts to mobilize tribal or local loyalties, such as recruiting African slaves into fragmented armies, often ended in defeat. By contrast, harnessing spiritual or ideological symbols, as in voodoo during the Haitian revolution, Liberation Theology in Latin America, or global ideologies like communism, produced stronger resistance and wider popular support. Justice and freedom are universal values that cannot be defended within exclusive group frameworks.
One of Gaza’s greatest lessons is precisely this: that a direct spiritual connection to the divine, the Quranic invocation of God as the greatest, strongest, and most supportive, strengthens the moral and emotional resolve of the individual. It makes the resisting subject more steadfast, patient, and willing to sacrifice.
By contrast, sectarian tools of mobilization, while capable of stirring immediate passion and even rage, often reproduce the same fragmented loyalties they claim to resist. They are effective in civil conflicts but falter in the face of a powerful, unified colonial enemy.
The intoxicating effect of identity-based rhetoric on public opinion, and its uncritical adoption by analysts, has skewed our political discourse. Some analysts now measure the revolutionary potential of a group by how creatively it invokes sectarian language, rather than by examining the material conditions or political implications of its actions.
This shallow and infatuated reading of resistance has become increasingly common in recent political and cultural discourse. This should not, however, dismiss the value of drawing on the broader Arab-Islamic historical legacy, Sunni and Shia alike. From Badr and al-Ahzab, to Karbala and Khaybar, from Khalid ibn al-Walid to Imam Hussein, from the Umayyad and Abbasid states to Cordoba, this shared legacy remains a vital foundation for contemporary liberation struggles.
Our cultural history did not end there. Today it is being reinvigorated through contemporary legends, such as Abu Ibrahim al-Sinwar, who fought in the spirit of Sheikh Izzeddin al-Qassam, a century ago. The danger lies in using this heritage to elevate one group at the expense of others, producing sectarian exceptionalism that undermines the collective revival needed for true liberation.
This brings us back to the Iranian model, where Supreme Leader Sayyed Khamenei blends national pride, Quranic faith, and an inclusive Islamic heritage. The ability to weave together cultural memory, political identity, and spiritual conviction across class, region, and sect has made Iran a formidable force against colonialism. This highlights the urgent need to build a strong Arab civilizational identity as a strategic tool in the struggle against Zionism.
An open-minded observer, unburdened by rigid ideological categories, will recognize this ethos of inclusion in the speeches of Yemen’s Ansar Allah and Palestinian spokesperson Abu Ubaida. These speeches transcend narrow borders and social diversity to mobilize a shared cultural and ethical vocabulary that unites rather than divides. These models deserve in-depth studying and accumulative efforts to develop them and directly link them to the urgent need to improve warfare methods during conflict, especially in building a political identity that combines the strongest elements for resilience and survival in this critical historical moment.
