Mansour Al-Somadi
Journalist
It is no coincidence that the flag of the Republic of Yemen was raised simultaneously in the squares of Toronto, Berlin, and Stockholm by young Yemenis chanting in unison, “Repeat, O World, my song,” while at the same moment other youths lit the torch of revolution in the squares of Taiz, Marib, and Say’un, and on rooftops and mountain peaks across Yemen’s countryside. It is a powerful visual scene that transcends geography and time: one generation in exile and another at home, united in celebrating the anniversary of their homeland’s glorious September 26, 1962 Revolution.
Through this scene, Yemeni youth reaffirm to the world their faith and commitment to their Republic, proving that the revolution, now 63 years old, remains youthful and alive, not yet aged or extinguished.
The September Revolution was not merely the overthrow of a tyrannical theocratic ruler cloaked in the so-called “divine right to rule.” It was a historic turning point that ended centuries of oppression, ignorance, and closure, and opened to Yemenis new horizons through which they breathed the meanings of dignity, freedom, justice, and equality.
It was also far more than a declaration broadcast on Radio Sanaa. It marked a new social contract with the future—one that renews itself every year, especially after history, with its tragic irony, brought back in the ill-fated coup of 2014 a distorted version of the past. In that moment, remnants of the old Imamate system, with its dark archaic ideas, demolished the gains of the revolution and its republican order, dragging Yemen back into eras of theocracy, tyranny, and isolation.
Today, the 63rd anniversary of this great revolution arrives, not as a fleeting memory recited in official speeches or sung in patriotic songs, but as a living compass in the conscience of all Yemenis. This is especially true for youth scattered by wars across the world. For them, exile is no longer simply distance from their homeland; it has become a new battlefield where the saga of the Republic is being written. Exile has turned into an amplified source of energy: politicians, journalists, students, refugees, writers, and artists—each sees themselves as heirs to the revolutionaries of yesterday, united by the single goal of defending the values of the revolution from erasure and distortion.
The relapse of 2014 was a shock strong enough to awaken an entire new generation to the truth: their struggle today is not new, but rather a continuation of the struggle of their grandparents, a struggle never completed and never ended.
This is why many in the Yemeni diaspora communities devote their energy to counter-campaigns dismantling the narratives of the Houthi coup militia, exposing the reality of its regressive theocratic project, inspired by the archaic Imamate rule, built on myths of “divine right to rule” and hereditary supremacy.
Each year, digital campaigns on social media, launched under revolutionary hashtags celebrating September 26 and vowing loyalty to the Republic, demonstrate this vividly. A simple act—youth unifying their profile pictures with the insignia of September 26—reveals their conviction that the revolution is a renewed social contract, sustained through awareness, mobilization, and resistance.
Nor did it stop there. Many established organizations, human rights initiatives, student and professional associations, and cultural forums dedicated to exposing the new Imamate project and defending the September Revolution. They have held seminars and photo exhibitions, published reports documenting violations, produced short films, authored studies, research papers, articles, and stories, and organized solidarity campaigns.
They also built bridges with international media, NGOs, and research centers. Others turned to art—writing poetry, composing songs and chants, and creating traditional zawamil—forming a cultural resistance network and influential media platforms despite their geographic dispersion. In doing so, they redefined the Yemeni presence abroad, not merely as migrant communities struggling for survival, but as a force of pressure and a voice for silenced rights.
Ironically, every attempt by the Houthi militia to extinguish the flame of revolution has only fueled it further. When they banned patriotic songs, people sang them in secret. When they criminalized lighting the torch, thousands of rooftops, villages, and mountains lit up with small flames, beacons of hope.
When they eliminated pluralism, repressed freedoms, and confiscated rights, the echoes of condemnation resounded globally. When they plundered museums, renamed streets and schools, altered curricula, and tamed national memory, they inadvertently proved that September lives on—confronted by an enlightened new generation waging a fierce battle of awareness through all available means: reading the history of the revolution, analyzing its mistakes, drawing inspiration from its spirit, and collecting documents and testimonies in preparation for a renewed revolution that uproots the Imamate once and for all.
The most hopeful sign is that today, on its 63rd anniversary, the September Revolution is no longer a passive historical event recalled in social media posts. It has become a matter of life itself, a continuous struggle renewed in every youth initiative, media campaign, cultural activity, and human rights effort refusing to surrender to the new Imamate project.
It is no longer a static past but a binding social contract with the future, renewed by every generation—especially when shadows of the past attempt to obscure or usurp it. It is a deferred promise of a civil state without class or hereditary privilege, a state where freedom and dignity belong to every human being, not to a lineage, and where justice and equality are recognized as fundamental rights, not postponed gifts.
Thus, our battle with the Houthi militia today is nothing but a direct continuation of the forefathers’ struggle against the first Imamate. It is an open-ended struggle for self-determination and equal citizenship that can only end with the complete eradication of the theocratic Imamate project and the reestablishment of the republican order in all its principles, values, foundations, and achievements.
If the revolutionary generation of 1962 carved the path to freedom with their blood, then the post-2014 generation—inside Yemen and across the diaspora—carries the torch today with renewed awareness. They see the revolution not as nostalgic memory, but as a vital cause of survival, practiced daily through action, resistance, sacrifice, and thought.
Today’s youth know more than ever that September is unfinished, but not dead. They recognize that safeguarding its legacy means not only honoring the past, but reshaping the future with greater strength, resilience, and depth.
So when torches of September are lit on rooftops in Atmah, Al-Maseela, and Marran, and when flags of the Republic wave in the skies of Paris, Amsterdam, and Riyadh, it is not mere commemoration. It is the proclamation of a new promise: a promise of a republican Yemen worthy of the sacrifices of its ancestors, reclaiming from the rubble of war and the greed of looters the essence of a state that belongs to all.
