By Firas Al Nassan
Suddenly, I realized that the war with Iran had changed the words we use every day, adding a new vocabulary to our lives, along with the sarcastic lexicon that accompanied footage of people staying up all night watching missiles, hearing air raid sirens, and brazenly dragging missile debris behind them.
My son surprised me with this question just a few days ago. He wasn’t looking for information for a homework assignment, nor was he watching a documentary; he was watching the news with me. I paused for a moment before answering him. Not because explaining the term was difficult, but because I realized that the war hadn’t just changed the political and military landscape, but also the words and semantics now echo in our homes.
Months ago, most of us couldn’t distinguish between a ballistic missile and a cruise missile, and words like “hypersonic,” “drones,” or “air interception” weren’t part of our daily conversations. Today, however, they’re on everyone’s lips. From children to the elderly, from taxi drivers to office workers who start their day by browsing the news.
Even the word “intercept” has changed its meaning. It no longer refers to interrupting someone while they’re speaking, but rather to the success of an air defense system in shooting down a missile before it reaches its target. “Barrage” is no longer associated with rain, but with the number of missiles launched simultaneously. As for “de-escalation,” it has become the most frequently used expression, and perhaps the least achievable.
Remarkably, the war has not only changed military vocabulary, but has also redefined the very concept of place. The Strait of Hormuz, Bab el-Mandeb, and the Red Sea are names that, for many, were merely locations on a map. Now, they have become headline news, determining oil prices, shipping traffic, flight paths, and even market sentiment.
Years ago, anyone who spoke about ballistic missiles or air defenses was considered a military expert or a security analyst. Today, these terms have become part of the general culture, used by people with ease, as if they were words they’ve known for ages.
After I finished explaining the meaning of “ballistic” to my son, it occurred to me that every war has consequences that cannot be measured solely by the number of missiles or the extent of the destruction. There is another, less noisy, impact that lingers with us for a long time: Words.
Wars not only impose new realities on the ground, but they also add new vocabulary to our language. Some of these words disappear with the end of the fighting, while others remain for years, bearing witness to an entire era.
I hope that one day my son will ask me about the meaning of a new word, one unrelated to missiles or air defenses, but rather to travel, exploration, or peace.
The author originally wrote this piece in Arabic and published in Ad Dustour daily in Amman, Jordan








