Iqbal Al-Ahmad

She turned to me with a shy smile, and her smile carried deliberate undertones. She asked, “Don’t you comment on what’s happening in this dialogue?” I returned her smile and nodded quietly, as if agreeing with the implication of her question, even though I was certain that much of what I heard in the discussion had no connection to the truth. I told her, “When dialogue turns into an auction of information, with some racing to recount what they’ve heard, what they’ve been told, and what they believe they know, I prefer to remain silent.” Not because I lack something to say, nor because I am ignorant of what is going on, but because I have learned that not every conversation deserves participation, not every false piece of information warrants a battle to correct it, and not everyone who speaks wants to know the truth. Some people engage in discussion to arrive at the truth, while others do so to prove that they alone possess it. Between these two lies a vast distance, one that cannot be bridged by the strength of argument or the abundance of evidence. Some dialogues begin with an exchange of opinions, then gradually turn into a competition over who knows more, who raises their voice louder, and who gets the last word. At that point, the truth is lost amid the noise of words, and self-victory becomes more important than the victory of knowledge. And here I ask myself: What is the point of wasting my time and nerves trying to convince someone who does not want to be convinced? What is the value of correct information if the listener has closed their mind before I even open my mouth? At this point, I must say that silence is not a virtue in all circumstances. Just as there are times when silence is wisdom, there are times when it becomes negligence. We must speak when the truth is at risk of distortion, when the spread of misinformation leads to injustice against a person, harm to their reputation, misleading a community, or making decisions that harm others. We must participate when we encounter minds that ask to understand, and ears that listen not to reply, but to learn. True dialogue is not a test of culture, nor a display of information, but an opportunity for each of us to add something to the other’s knowledge. When we realize that the other party is not seeking the truth, but rather trying to draw listeners into interaction and extract applause from the audience, and that they hear only their own voice, it is better to withdraw from the argument and simply observe the auction of information without endorsing what is presented. Perhaps the most important lesson I have learned over the years is that possessing information does not obligate us to announce it in every gathering, that knowledge does not lose its value if we keep it to ourselves, and that a person confident in what they know does not need to prove it on every occasion. How many discussions have we exited exhausted without changing a single conviction! And how many silences have saved us hours of fruitless debate, preserving goodwill and maintaining the value of respect! But I also believe that wisdom does not lie in always remaining silent, but in knowing when to speak, with whom, how to speak, when to be concise and when to elaborate, and when to limit ourselves to a single sentence before leaving. The goal is not to win every argument, nor to correct every mistake, nor to convince everyone of what we know. The goal is simply not to allow debate to rob us of our peace, nor to let silence make us complicit in misleading others. In the end, there is a vast difference between a person’s strength and their ability to respond, and their ability to distinguish between a stance that warrants speaking and one that does not, so as not to lose our peace for it. Therefore, when someone asks me once again, “Why don’t you participate in the conversation?” I will smile and say, “Because I have learned that some dialogues enrich our minds if we participate in them, while others allow us to preserve our minds if we stay away from them.” * * * Regardless of the reason for the power outages around hospitals, lighting is required in certain locations, such as parking areas that plunge into pitch-black darkness, causing fear. It is also difficult to see directional signs and gate numbers without relying on the lighting of mobile phones or other sources.

Iqbal Al-Ahmad