Before the clock strikes midnight and the bells ring in the New Year, Jordan stands at an extraordinary temporal threshold: not a division between the past and the future, but a confirmation that unity has always been present, enduring, and immortal.
The sounds harmonize from the minarets and churches, hearts are adorned with brotherhood before the lights, and daily practices witness that joy and solidarity do not need permission from the calendar. This is the open mihrab that never closes!
In the 1980s, Tony Hanna used to greet us with his famous song: «Once a year… Christmas or New Year», as if joy were postponed, and gathering granted only by calendar permission before returning to its slumber!
Today, Jordan practically denies this perception: its unity is a daily way of life; it extends in the streets, schools, work, and villages, and pulsates in every detail of life, in every moment where one human finds another human, before any title or classification.
On a Jordanian dawn, when the call to prayer failed in one of the villages; the sound of the bells spoke to hearts in a human experience that melted differences in the crucible of unity.
Our Christians are not a minority, they are the salt of the earth and a cornerstone of national memory, partners in education, the army, culture, and medicine, and every national heartbeat proves that brotherhood is a practice, not just a slogan, and the Hashemite leadership enhances this realization, considering religious occasions as points to affirm belonging and dignity, not just seasonal celebrations.
But, amidst this deep-rooted unity, a fragile question floats every year: "Should we congratulate?". A simple question, yet it probes the legitimacy of shared joy, and reveals a knowledge gap: we live unity but overlook its questions. The answer does not reside in books of religious rulings alone, but in the story of Kerak: where Muslims carried stones to the church as if they were building a mosque for themselves. And in Ramadan feasts, food moves between houses without questioning the religion of the owner. And in the voting booths, Christians run on Islamic party lists, people vote for their conscience, not the sect. These are not fleeting scenes; they are chapters from an epic born from suffering and hope, transforming brotherhood into the fabric of everyday life and unity into shared breaths.
Every moment in this nation is a lesson in brotherhood: a Christian player prostrates with his Muslim teammates in an international match celebrating a goal, a neighbor extends a hand to a neighbor, opponents unite in charity campaigns, and children learn that love and loyalty do not wait for an occasion.
Our unity here is a continuous practice, the pulse of daily life, and an embodiment of a comprehensive national philosophy where brotherhood is a constant choice we live in every act, every moment, every breath.
Jordan does not live its unity in official speeches, but in daily practices: the crescent and the cross coexist in charity marches, and mosques and churches share prayers of joy and sorrow. And all this in facing a common enemy: the Israeli occupation, which does not differentiate in its aggression and brutality between Muslim and Christian, church and mosque. Our unity is not a slogan, but a civilizational shield that protects the nation and humanity.
The Hashemite custodianship of Islamic and Christian holy sites in Jerusalem is not just a historical duty, but a moral, political, and cultural responsibility; protecting Al-Aqsa and the Church of the Resurrection means protecting the memory of the nation, asserting that difference is not a threat but enriching, and that unity is not seasonal slogans but a constant and sustainable act.
In Jordan, every day is a feast, every day a prayer, every day an opportunity to affirm brotherhood and human dignity.
We do not wait for the New Year or a seasonal song to remind us of unity; we live it in every moment, in exchanged looks, in silent help, and our shared life is larger than any occasion and deeper than any ritual.
Let's start the new year with optimism, because optimism is one of the greatest drivers of human and societal growth, it strengthens our bonds, ignites energies, and fuels creativity. Let us look to the future with eyes filled with confidence, because brotherhood is not an event, but a daily choice, a prolonged prayer, and a renewed practice throughout the year, affirming that Jordan is a philosophical and existential experience, an endless epic of brotherhood, an eternal structure in the heart of the world, where land and sky, heart and mind, unite in one fabric of loyalty, freedom, and humanity.
