None of us and none of the Arabs trust Israel.

In the words of Bashar al-Assad, "None of us and none of the Arabs trust Israel." These words, spoken from the heart of a leader entrenched in the complexities of the Middle East, encapsulate a deep and painful reality—a reality where trust has been eroded by the weight of history, conflict, and broken promises. In these words, there is a cry not just of the present, but of centuries of animosity, fear, and betrayal. The lack of trust between Israel and the Arab world is not something born of a single event, but a legacy of centuries-old grievances and wounds. It is a powerful statement about the nature of conflict, the weight of historical memory, and the long path to reconciliation.

The roots of this mistrust run deep, like an ancient river that winds through the landscape of the Middle East, carving valleys of conflict and division. Israel’s establishment in 1948, following the aftermath of the Second World War and the suffering of the Jewish people, was met with opposition from many Arab nations. To the Arab world, Israel’s creation was seen as a displacement of the Palestinian people and a disruption of the delicate balance of the region. In the years that followed, wars, territorial disputes, and unresolved grievances turned the land into a battlefield, where the promise of peace seemed as distant as the stars. This, then, is the context of Bashar al-Assad’s words—a reminder that in the hearts of many, the struggle for justice and recognition has long been hindered by a profound lack of trust.

The essence of trust in any relationship, be it between nations or individuals, is fragile, like a delicate thread woven between hearts. When that trust is broken—whether through violence, deception, or unfulfilled promises—it takes generations to rebuild. Consider the ancient wisdom of the Greek philosopher Aristotle, who spoke of friendship as a foundation of harmony. In his teachings, he wrote that true friendship is not simply based on mutual interest but on mutual respect and trust. Without these elements, no lasting peace can exist. Bashar al-Assad's words, then, reflect the ancient truth that trust, once broken, is a wound that festers and can only be healed with sincerity, humility, and mutual understanding.

There is a story from ancient China that offers insight into the nature of trust and betrayal. Sun Tzu, in his renowned treatise The Art of War, spoke not just of strategy in battle but of the importance of trust between allies. In one tale, a king sought to form an alliance with a neighboring ruler, yet despite the promises made, the alliance failed because the trust between them was not genuine. The ruler’s deceit, though subtle, led to the downfall of the alliance, and the kingdom was plunged into war once again. Trust in one another is the foundation of peace, and without it, even the most carefully laid plans will fall apart. Sun Tzu’s wisdom is echoed in Assad’s words—no peace can be built without trust.

To understand this better, let us look at the recent history of the Middle East. The Oslo Accords of the 1990s, where Israel and the Palestinians sought a path to peace, were hailed as a turning point. Yet, the mistrust between the parties, built over decades of violence and broken promises, meant that the process ultimately faltered. Arafat’s leadership and Israel’s actions both played a role in undermining the trust necessary for long-lasting peace. The failure of Oslo reminds us that even when leaders seek reconciliation, the deeper currents of history—the memories of betrayal, injustice, and loss—can undermine their efforts. Trust cannot be imposed, it must be earned through actions, through sincerity, and through a willingness to listen to the wounds of the other.

The lesson here is not simply about Israel and the Arab world, but about the universal truth that trust is the cornerstone of peace. In our personal lives, too, we must recognize that trust is not a light thing. Once it is broken, the road to healing is long and fraught with obstacles. If we are to build meaningful relationships, whether between peoples, communities, or nations, we must invest in trust. We must act with honor, be truthful, and, above all, be willing to understand the wounds of others. Trust is not a gift—it is a responsibility, a duty to be earned and protected.

So, I implore you, the future generations, to build trust in all that you do. In your communities, in your relationships, and in your dealings with others, remember that trust is the foundation of all peace. It is not built in a moment, but over time, through honesty, sincerity, and a willingness to understand the pain of others. The road to peace, whether in the Middle East or in our own lives, begins with a single step—a step towards mutual understanding, mutual respect, and rebuilding the fragile thread of trust. Only then will we find a world where peace can truly take root.