MARGINALIA: Yemen’s Reordering of Moral Geographies

MAKATI CITY (MindaNews / 7 May) When I first heard the phrase “Ansar Allah is attacking ships in the Red Sea,” my initial thought wasn’t about missiles or military calculations. It was about symbols—and the stories that nations, peoples, and movements tell themselves and others. You see, in international politics, what matters just as much as what is done is why it’s done—and what it means.

Since the Al-Aqsa Storm on October 7, 2023, the Yemeni movement known as the Houthis (or Ansar Allah) has been writing its own chapter in what many have called a global uprising of conscience. As bombs fell on Gaza and homes were bulldozed in the West Bank and East Jerusalem, Yemen—poor, besieged, and war-torn Yemen—took to the seas.

Let’s pause.

The story you’re told in mainstream news is simple: the Houthis are attacking ships, disrupting global trade, threatening “freedom of navigation.” But that’s not how the Houthis tell it. That’s not how millions across the Global South interpret it either.

Social constructivism—an approach in International Relations—teaches us to look beyond material power and ask: What do people believe? What ideas shape their actions? What identities are at stake? In Yemen’s case, their blockade of Tel Aviv-linked ships in the Red Sea isn’t just about flexing military muscle. It’s an assertion of identity, memory, and moral alignment.

Ansar Allah has repeatedly framed their actions as a defense of the Palestinian right to resist genocide, illegal settlements, and forced displacement. This isn’t a cynical ploy. It’s a performative declaration that they are part of the Ummah—a political and spiritual community bound by solidarity against oppression. In other words, they don’t see themselves as rebels without a cause; they see themselves as resistors with a covenant.

But let’s be clear—what Yemen is doing is not just about being part of the Ummah. First and foremost, stopping a genocide and preventing ethnic cleansing is a UN responsibility. Yemen is simply stepping into a moral void left gaping by international inaction.

Since late 2023, U.S. warships have patrolled the Red Sea. Airstrikes were launched. Threats were issued. And yet, the blockade of “Israel”-linked vessels has persisted—months on. Why?

Again, social constructivism offers an answer that realism and materialist theories miss. The U.S. believed bombs could deter behavior. But ideas, once anchored in identity, are far more resilient than missiles. For the Houthis, Gaza is not a foreign issue—it is part of their moral narrative. A narrative that frames Palestine as the front line of resisting imperial injustice. You can bomb a radar station, but you can’t bomb away a belief.

So, while headlines focused on how the blockade was hurting shipping companies and global logistics, what we saw was something more profound: a marginalized, militarily outmatched actor refusing to be silenced. A movement, born in the hills of Saada, now defying the U.S. Navy—and doing so in the name of the Palestinian people.

And here’s what’s even more fascinating. Yemen’s policy since October 7 isn’t just reactive—it’s reconstructive. It’s trying to redraw the moral map of West Asia.

Gone are the days when only powerful states dictated terms. Today, we see a moral inversion: Yemen, often dismissed as peripheral, is suddenly central to the conversation about justice in Occupied Palestine. It has created a new form of leverage—not through UN resolutions, but through moral performance in material space. Every drone launch, every naval warning, every defiant press statement contributes to a narrative: We may be poor, but we’re not powerless.

This reimagining of Yemen’s role is deeply rooted in constructed identities—being part of the Axis of Resistance, claiming the banner of ‘Ashura-infused struggle, reviving narratives of Karbala versus Yazid—all through the lens of contemporary injustice in Gaza and the occupied West Bank.

Despite everything Yemen has done over the past year and a half, political analysts like Sami Hamdi still cast doubt on the Houthis’ intentions—while openly cheering the so-called ‘liberation’ of Syria. Don’t be surprised if these same voices continue to obsess over parsing ‘intentions’ no matter how strategically and morally consequential the Houthis’ blockade in the Red Sea has been—right under the nose of the most powerful navy in the world, in a bid to halt genocide. Enough talk about your ‘correct’ ‘aqidah and ‘noble’ intentions, amigos. Prove them in practice. In Palestine. In other occupied territories. Now.

I write this not to romanticize conflict, but to acknowledge agency. For far too long, policy analysts and diplomats have treated Yemen as a pawn in chess. But pawns sometimes cross the board and become queens.

As someone observing this from Sub-Saharan Mindanao—a land also shaped by struggle and memory—I can’t help but see echoes. We, too, know what it means to resist being erased. To assert our narrative when dominant ones try to speak over us.

So, when Yemen speaks through actions in the Red Sea, it reminds us: International politics isn’t just about tanks and treaties. It’s about meaning. It’s about who gets to say, “This is what justice looks like.” And despite all odds, Yemen is saying it. Loud and clear.

And maybe, just maybe, Trump should start listening.

[MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. Mansoor L. Limba, PhD in International Relations and Shari‘ah Counselor-at-Law (SCL), is a publisher-writer, university professor, blogger, chess trainer, and translator (from Persian into English and Filipino) with tens of written and translation works to his credit on such subjects as international politics, history, political philosophy, intra-faith and interfaith relations, cultural heritage, Islamic finance, jurisprudence (fiqh), theology (‘ilm al-kalam), Qur’anic sciences and exegesis (tafsir), hadith, ethics, and mysticism. He can be reached at mlimba@diplomats.com, and his books can be purchased at www.elzistyle.com and www.amazon.com/author/mansoorlimba.]