Adnan Zaid Al-Kadhim... The intellectual has departed, but the pen remains loyal to the homeland

Adnan Zaid Al-Kazemi has departed this transient world for the eternal abode. The noble man, the intellectual armed with the pen and adorned with knowledge, lived faithfully to his country, his family, and his values. May God have mercy on Abu Nizar and grant him a spacious place in His paradise.

It is not easy to write about a departed friend, nor to attempt to condense the life story of a man you knew for nearly three decades into a few words. Some men, when they pass away, leave behind not only a void, but a place in memory that no one can fill, and a grief in the heart for which words are insufficient.

I knew Abu Nizar for about 30 years. Our relationship began through journalism and the written word, but over time it evolved into friendship and affection, mutual visits, and eventually a familial bond through marriage, linking our families alongside our friendship.

Therefore, what I write today is not merely words of mourning for a beloved man who has passed, but a testimony of truth about a man I knew closely, whose character I experienced, whose sincerity and loyalty I witnessed, and whose love for his country and family I came to understand.

How could Adnan be otherwise? He is the son of the late Zaid Al-Kazemi, who served as a member of the National Assembly in 1963 and 1967. Abu Nizar grew up in a distinguished family known for culture, politics, ethics, kindness, generosity, and resolve. This family had a clear impact on shaping his personality and the values he carried throughout his life.

Abu Nizar was a man weathered by life, who witnessed successive generations of Kuwaitis and the major transformations the country underwent in the post-oil era and the beginnings of the modern state. Yet, he remained as I knew him: simple in his interactions, profound in his thinking, modest in his presence, generous in his emotions, and sincere in his relationships. He was, may God have mercy on him, among the finest of men in both outward conduct and inner character, the most pleasant to sit with, and the most humble. His gatherings combined knowledge with familiarity, serious discussion with the spirit of friendship.

What struck me most about Abu Nizar was his relationship with books. In his library, filled with foundational texts, he lived with books as if living with old friends. He exchanged love with the pages, dove into vocabulary and phrases, and lingered long over meanings and implications. He was not a casual reader seeking mere information, but a contemplative and reflective reader who sought to understand what the author intended to say, what remained unsaid, and what ideas and nuances lay hidden behind the words. He tried to mimic the author’s mind, to probe the depths of the text, and to reach beyond its surface, without imposing undue burdens on it or over-interpreting it to the point of straying from its intended meaning. In my view, this is one of the most beautiful traits of a true intellectual: to read with an open mind, to respect the text, and to seek meaning rather than to vindicate a preconceived opinion.

Consequently, Abu Nizar’s articles were not merely words written in a newspaper that fade with time. In many of the articles he wrote more than fourteen years ago, his words remain present, sounding like alarm bells in memory whenever the country faces the same questions again.

His motto for his articles was “Truth... the greatest friend,” and how true this motto was in describing its author. For Abu Nizar, truth was not just a headline for an article, but a stance, a responsibility, and a duty he saw as incumbent upon the intellectual toward his country and society.

Among the finest pieces he wrote is his article titled “Selling a Nation,” published on January 25, 2012, in which he warned of the consequences of escalating corruption and the dangers that could threaten the country when public interest yields to private interests. He later wrote his article “Where Is the Nation Heading?” in April 2012, a piece that, despite the passage of many years, still seems to pose questions that remain before us. He wrote, “After calamities have closed in, the fires of blind sedition that loom on the horizon have ignited and flared, and noble souls have withdrawn, awaiting what is to come, we must ask with fear and anxiety: Where is the nation heading?” He then proceeded to warn against political disagreements turning into factional, partisan, and sectarian conflicts; against immediate interests taking precedence over the nation’s interests; and against the accumulation of development and infrastructure problems until their burdens become heavier for future generations. His article culminates in a clear national cry when he states, “The issue has become one of life or death for the nation, God forbid. We must cling to the exhausted fabric of the nation, preserve its gains even if diminished, and nurture the returns of its wealth even if reduced, or even if they vanish and melt away due to the mismanagement of our wealth’s revenues.”

His warning against sedition was clear, as he viewed it as the greatest danger that could overwhelm nations. In his article “Manufacturing Sedition and Death,” published on February 28, 2012, he cautioned against the risks of lying, deception, fraud, and manipulation, as well as the factors that could make the region’s countries and societies more fragile in the face of seditions and conflicts.

He understood that our region is surrounded by numerous triggers for explosion, and that playing on the strings of religion, sectarianism, racism, and tribalism could open doors that are difficult to close.

In a sincere national gesture, he concluded his article “Political Nonsense,” published on August 5, 2012, with a phrase laden with concern for the nation and deep love for it: “Ah... it is a cry from believing hearts... keen to spare the country the pitfalls of dangers and external conspiracies that push millions into the filth of this transient world... to dismantle the country’s structures and foundations, and prepare the grounds for further destruction and the eradication of the beloved nation.”

Abu Nizar wrote because he believed that the nation deserved to be defended with words, and that an intellectual cannot stand idly by when he sees flaws widening or feels that the nation is heading toward a zone of danger.

We may disagree or agree with some of his views, and circumstances and events may change, but what remains constant is the sincerity of the motive and the nobility of the intent. He wrote from the heart of a man who loved his country, feared for it, believed that words carry responsibility, and viewed the pen not as a means for self-promotion, but as a trust.

Today, as I write these words, I feel that I am mourning not only a friend, but also a part of a generation’s memory. Some people we only realize the magnitude of their presence in our lives after they are gone. When they depart, we return to their old photographs, their gatherings, their laughter, their words, and we discover that the small things we had overlooked were, in fact, the most beautiful legacy they left us.

Perhaps the most fitting thing to say about a man who lived for culture, the pen, and the nation is that his absence could not erase his presence. Death takes the body, but it cannot take the impact. And so, today, after nearly 30 years of acquaintance and friendship, I find myself writing about Abu Nizar, my pen heavy with sorrow, as if I am trying to reclaim through words some of the presence of a man whom words cannot restore. He was a dear friend, a generous brother, an authentic intellectual, and a man who remained faithful to what he believed in.

May God have mercy on you, Abu Nizar. May God have mercy on the noble man, the loyal friend, the intellectual who loved books, the journalist who believed in the power of the word, and the citizen who carried the burden of his nation in his heart and pen.

You have departed for the Abode of Truth, leaving behind memories that will never fade, and words that still remind us that the nation is greater than our differences, that truth is more precious than self-interest, and that the pen can bear witness to its era, and serve as a conscience when consciences fall silent. Rest in peace, O Abu Nizar. You have left among us a pen that will keep your memory alive, a book that will preserve your legacy, hearts that miss you, and a homeland you loved until the end of your days.