The news from the Levant is, as ever, a lamentable chronicle of destruction. Bridges, steel plants, pharmaceutical facilities - these are the sinews of a nation, the very infrastructure upon which daily life is built. To strike at them is not merely to wage war against an army, but against a populace, against the very possibility of peace and prosperity.

I read of these “strikes” and my mind turns immediately to the formation of such actions. What habits of thought lead men to believe that the demolition of a bridge will build a lasting peace? What instruction has been given that the shattering of a steel plant will forge a better future? This is not the work of statesmanship; it is the work of short-sighted fury, a cycle of demolition that promises only more demolition.

The professed aim, I am certain, is security, or perhaps deterrence. But what conduct does this actually produce? Not security, but fear. Not deterrence, but resentment. One cannot bomb a people into submission and expect them to embrace their aggressor. This is a fundamental failure of understanding, a blindness to the long-term consequences of immediate, violent action.

My work, however humble, has always been to build. To lay the foundations of character through education, to mend the rents in society through charity, to cultivate habits of industry and piety. This is slow work, often unheralded, but it is the only work that truly endures. A bridge can be rebuilt, yes, but the trust that is shattered by such acts of violence is far more difficult to restore. We must ask ourselves, what infrastructure are we truly building with these actions? And if it is only an infrastructure of grievance and retaliation, then we have failed utterly. The true test of a nation’s strength is not in its capacity to destroy, but in its ability to construct, to uplift, and to foster peace. This news grieves me deeply, for it shows a profound lack of such foresight.