Captain Osama Shakman

In moments of great tension, nations are tested not by their ability to launch missiles, but by their ability to steady their compass. As a Jordanian citizen first and foremost, I say this clearly: I do not believe war is a path to solutions, nor do I see escalation as a victory for anyone. Yet at the same time, I cannot remain silent when flames extend toward the Gulf states and into the skies of my homeland, the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.

What compels decision-makers in Iran to widen the circle of confrontation? What wisdom lies in drawing Arab countries — which were not direct parties to the conflict — into the equation of retaliation? If the objective is defense, then defense is not achieved by opening new fronts or by threatening the stability of nations that have chosen to remain distant from sharp alignments.

Many Arabs sympathized with the Iranian people during times of hardship, because we look at peoples through the lens of humanity, not politics. But what has happened recently was deeply shocking. When reactions turn into strikes that reach the Gulf and place Jordan within the sphere of tension, the message we receive is not one of strength, but of uncalculated impulsiveness.

Jordan is not a testing ground, nor a corridor in the calculations of others. Jordan is a homeland with sovereignty and dignity — a nation we carry in our hearts before we see it on maps. This country, which has endured storms and built its stability through wisdom and balance, is a red line we will not allow to be crossed — not in word, not in deed. Its skies are not open territory, and its land is not a card in a regional power game.

I had hoped that decision-makers in Tehran would choose a different language — one that preserves what remains of bridges with the Arab world. But uncalculated reactions have severed those bridges in a moment of anger. Trust built over years can be destroyed by a single decision, and respect cultivated through words can be killed by a missile.

We are not enemies of the Iranian people, and we will not be. But neither are we willing to be dragged into a battle that is not ours. We have the right to protect our homeland, and we have the duty to raise our voices when we feel our security is threatened under any pretext.

True strength lies not in expanding the circle of fire, but in the ability to extinguish it. Courage is not found in swift retaliation, but in the wise decision that preserves lives and safeguards neighborly ties. The region cannot endure further escalation, and any reckless step will cost ordinary people far more than politicians.

I write today not out of hostility, but out of devotion to my homeland. Jordan, to us, is not merely borders — it is identity, memory, and dignity. It is the prayer in a mother’s heart, the patience of soldiers standing guard, and the dream of children growing up in safety. Whoever approaches its security approaches the heart of every Jordanian.

My message is clear: we reject war as a principle, and we reject any violation of our homeland as a position. And to decision-makers in Iran, we say that the bridges that have been cut can be rebuilt — but that begins with acknowledging that escalation against the Gulf states and against Jordan was a strategic and moral mistake. The choice is simple: either we choose the path of wisdom, or we leave the entire region captive to a spiral whose end no one can foresee.