Those Who Hold onto the Burning Ember
Steadfast in the Face of Hardship
Adel Bashqawi
August 4, 2926
In every era, there are individuals who refuse to abandon their principles, even when the cost of holding onto them feels as searing as a burning ember. They stand firm in moments when truth is inconvenient, when justice is delayed, and when identity is threatened. These are the people who carry the weight of history with unwavering resolve — not because it is easy, but because letting go would mean surrendering the very essence of who they are. Their endurance becomes a testament to the strength of conviction, a reminder that some causes survive only because a few choose to bear the heat others cannot withstand.
Among our patient nation are those who refused a life of exile and diaspora — a fate forced upon their forefathers in 1864 when their homeland was occupied, their people subjected to genocide, and the vast majority of survivors displaced. These individuals chose to return to their homeland decades later, under any circumstances, despite the reality of occupation, cultural alienation, and the marginalization of their national identity. They made this choice even though they were returning to a homeland fragmented in its geography, demographics, and administrative and political structure. They returned under unenviable conditions, yet they were the ones who took the initiative to forge a path back to a homeland that loved them — and was loved by them — remaining ever-present in their thoughts until they finally rejoined it and reunited with their fellow countrymen; those whom God Almighty had chosen to stand guard over the land of their forefathers until their peers could return from the lands of diaspora and exile.
Here, the returnees were confronted with a bitter reality. They returned to a place whose character had been drastically altered by the occupiers — names, centers, administrative bodies, systems, and imposed laws — most of which were alien to the time, the place, and even the indigenous population. Worse still, the returnees were compelled to master the occupiers’ language — Russian — and their children were required to attend Russian schools, institutes, and universities that had perfected the cultural erasure of dozens of subjugated non‑Russian peoples and nations, including the Circassian nation.
A striking irony of fate has emerged in the Circassian homeland since the onset of Russia’s war on Ukraine. A people whose homeland has been under occupation since 1864 are now being forcibly conscripted and driven into a Russian colonial war to which they are not a party. How can such conscription be imposed on a people whose homeland was seized by fire and steel, half of whose population was exterminated, and 90% of the survivors displaced to the Ottoman Empire — eventually becoming minorities scattered across dozens of countries worldwide? Attention must also be drawn to those who returned to the homeland under the right of return; they, along with their children, have been exploited and forcibly conscripted, sent into the furnace of a war belonging to others.
A case in point is that of brother Khaled Karaev, a Circassian returnee currently residing in Nalchik. He learned of his son Nejm el‑Din’s detention through a phone call from an unknown number. The caller spoke in the Circassian language — an attempt to intimidate the family — and declared that the son would be sent to assault units. He warned that the father would never see his son again unless he ceased his social activism regarding Circassian issues. This placed the family in an unenviable and harrowing predicament.
May we and they be spared all evil and harm. May God grant our people steadfastness, patience, and unwavering faith in the ultimate victory that will inevitably come to our nation, regardless of the magnitude of the hardships and challenges.
They are like those grasping hot coals, facing a ferocious enemy and its mercenaries with hearts overflowing with love for their nation and homeland. This vile enemy feels no shame in confronting them and conscripting their children, thereby exposing both parents and offspring to danger, injury, or captivity — all for the sake of the same colonial objectives. They are the descendants of a people whose homeland was occupied and whose nation was subjected to genocide, displacement, and dispersal.
Here, we can only appeal to international human rights organizations to shed light on the tragedy of the Circassian nation — a people whose homeland was occupied and whose population was decimated and scattered across the globe. Even those who remained within their homeland were not spared the depredations of the occupiers or the attempts to eradicate their identity, culture, and very national existence on the land of their ancestors. We therefore call for the Circassian nation to regain its legitimate rights — rights that are not subject to any statute of limitations.
