Safwan Sultan
Secretary-General of the National Bloc of Parties and Political Components, member of the Political Bureau of the Justice and Development Party, and researcher in political affairs.
On September 26, 1962, Yemen ushered in a new dawn after centuries of isolation. The revolution was not merely a transfer of power but a decisive break with an idea deeply rooted in Yemen’s political culture: that ruling power was the exclusive right of a dynasty claiming “divine authority,” while the rest of the people were condemned to obedience and silence.
Before the revolution, the Imamate exercised authority as a form of heavenly guardianship, where politics and religion fused, and the ruler was seen as an intermediary between humans and God, with obedience to him considered part of faith. This model framed opposition as sin and reduced Yemenis to subjects without rights. The image was not far from what Europe had known in its dark ages, when the Church monopolized scriptural interpretation, granted indulgences to the obedient, and excluded anyone who thought beyond its walls. Just as Europe’s liberation began when its mind freed itself from such guardianship, September was first and foremost a liberation of the Yemeni mind, even before it was a revolution against the Imamate.
More than six decades later, the scene is repeating itself in a new form. Under the banner of “Wilayah” (divine guardianship), the Houthis seek to revive the same idea: power derived from lineage rather than social contract. They employ pulpits, curricula, and media to instill the notion that their authority is a divine destiny not to be contested. School curricula have been rewritten to entrench the concept of “guardianship of rule,” Friday sermons have been turned into political platforms, and any criticism is portrayed as hostility to religion itself.
The danger of the Houthi project, however, extends far beyond Yemen. Its organic ties to Iran make it an extension of the “exporting the revolution” strategy announced by Khomeini decades ago. In this vision, the nation-state is not an end in itself but a transitional stage toward broader dominion. The Houthis’ control of coastal areas gives them direct capacity to threaten one of the world’s most vital maritime corridors—the Bab al-Mandab Strait—through which nearly 10% of global trade and a significant share of energy exports pass. This dimension makes the issue far more than a domestic Yemeni matter.
The world’s experience with al-Qaeda and ISIS offers a clear lesson: ignoring the early seeds of extremism allowed them to grow into global threats. Today, history risks repeating itself. The sectarian rhetoric may differ between the Houthis and other groups, but the core idea is the same: an absolute fusion of religious and political authority that justifies repression in the name of doctrine and divides society into “obedient followers” and “deviant outsiders.”
Houthi terrorism is not confined to Yemen’s borders. Alongside well-documented violations against journalists, women, and dissidents—including arbitrary detentions and restrictions on freedom of movement through the imposition of a male guardian (mahram)—the Houthi project seeks to acquire instruments of regional and transnational leverage. Attacks on oil tankers in the Red Sea and strikes against infrastructure in Saudi Arabia and the UAE are clear signals that the group views its control not as a local matter, but as a transnational tool of coercion.
This is why returning to September today is more than a historical commemoration. The revolution was not just an uprising against an old regime, but the founding of the first modern school, the first university, and the beginnings of civic institutions that established education, citizenship, and work as rights, not privileges. It was a moment that declared belonging to the nation was based on equality, not lineage or class. Today, as the project of “Wilayah” is revived, Yemenis realize that the battle of September is far from over; it was never merely an event of the past but an ongoing trajectory that determines the fate of the state.
The values embodied by September—freedom, equality, and dignity—are not uniquely Yemeni. They are the same values for which European peoples fought in their struggles against the guardianship of the Church, and the same values that underpinned the Universal Declaration of Human Rights after World War II. From this perspective, confronting the Houthi project is not just an act of solidarity with Yemenis, but a defense of universal principles and of an international order built on state sovereignty and equality among nations.
The anniversary of September 26, then, is an alarm bell resonating far beyond Yemen’s borders. It reminds us that freedom is not granted, equality is not purchased, and complacency toward a project rooted in “divine right to rule” means opening the door to the return of authoritarian darkness in a new guise. And Yemenis, as they did six decades ago, now stand at a historic crossroads: either to protect their republic and renew their national covenant, or to allow authoritarian darkness to spread—not only over Yemen, but across the region and the world.
