In the history of human civilization, there are periods of stagnation that are not easily overcome. The coronavirus pandemic of 2020–2021, followed by the Russia–Ukraine war over the past four years, and before we could even recover from that, the Iran–United States war began on February 28, 2026.
So today, standing at the end of April, it may feel to us that we are in a very bad state.
The heat is unbearable, electricity comes and goes, and when we enter the market, it feels as though money has lost its strength—almost as if it has turned into something as insignificant as a bay leaf. Inflation, rising prices, increased transport fares—taken together, we may think we are doing very poorly.
That we are not doing well—perhaps no one would object to admitting this. In fact, no country in the world is truly doing well. But the harsh lesson of history is this: what people consider the “worst possible suffering” in the present often turns out to be “bearable” compared to the future.
If well-being is judged in comparison with the past and the future, then perhaps we must now say: All praise to Almighty Allah, we are actually doing quite well!
Because if we truly grasp what the wise and farsighted are saying about the coming days, we would feel this way. At present, the global economy is moving through a deep instability.
The shock that has struck the energy market is not just a temporary storm—rather, in the words of many economists, it is more like an “earthquake.” Unfortunately, what is happening—and what is yet to happen—is beyond our control. In the past year, global oil prices have risen from around $70 to $110–120.
A major global waterway, through which nearly one-fifth of the world’s energy used to pass, is now effectively closed. The reality is that our gas stoves, our electric switches, even our pots of rice depend on that distant maritime route. We do not wage wars, yet we regularly pay their price.
The rise in energy prices does not only increase the cost of electricity or transport—it affects the entire society through higher costs in agriculture, industry, and essential goods.
As a result, the economy moves toward a condition where growth slows down while inflation continues to rise—a dangerous dual crisis. Our economy largely depends on imported energy and remittances from abroad.
If the war continues for a long time, uncertainty will increase in both areas—import costs will rise, and remittance inflows may decline. Consequently, pressure on foreign currency reserves will increase, the currency will depreciate, and the purchasing power of ordinary people will steadily decline.
Along with this comes another, deeper danger—natural forces. The possibility of a so-called “super El Niño” has already entered discussions. History shows that when this fierce face of nature reveals itself, it does not merely alter the weather; it endangers food production, water resources, and the basic security of human life.
Thus, we are facing a dual crisis—on one hand, man-made war, and on the other, nature’s uncontrollable reactions.
Yet behind all this analysis lies a deeper philosophical truth: human civilization has repeatedly rebuilt itself through crises. Within every disaster lies the seed of new possibility. But that possibility only unfolds when people have the courage to face reality rather than deny it.
In this context, we can view the present time in two ways—as a period of hardship, or as a warning signal. The first perspective will lead us to despair; the second will prepare us. And from a positive perspective, we can still say: as we are now—Alhamdulillah—we are doing quite well!