CAIRO, Jan. 3 (Xinhua) -- Fireworks flared above the Middle East as 2026 arrived, bursting into gold and white over new skylines and ancient quarters alike. From Egypt's desert capital to the Gulf's glass towers and the streets in Damascus, crowds welcomed the Year 2026 with music, phones held aloft, and countdowns shouted in unison.

Yet across the region, the celebrations unfolded against a backdrop of war, displacement, and political strain, underscoring how hope in the Middle East is often tempered by uncertainty.

In Egypt, the New Year was ushered in with carefully choreographed grandeur. Thousands gathered in the country's new administrative capital, east of Cairo, where fireworks exploded around the Iconic Tower, now Africa's tallest building. The Central Business District -- built by a Chinese company and a flagship project of Egypt's partnership with Beijing under the Belt and Road Initiative -- hosted its first major public celebration, complete with Arab pop stars, drone displays tracing national symbols, and family events.

In the Gulf, the mood was similarly confident. In Dubai, fireworks and laser projections cascaded down the Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest skyscraper, in a tightly choreographed show watched by millions. Riyadh and other Gulf cities staged uninterrupted celebrations, images of stability and wealth quickly spreading on social media.

But elsewhere, the New Year arrived more tentatively. In Sudan, where civil war has torn the country apart since 2023, Khartoum marked the start of 2026 with a rare public gathering.

The Khartoum Youth Sports Festival, held under the slogan "Together We Make Life," coincided with the country's 70th anniversary of independence and offered a rare glimpse of communal life returning to a battered capital.

Athletics competitions drew men, women, and children into the streets. Cyclists rode routes once emptied by fear. "This carries messages beyond sport," said Ahmed Adam Ahmed, Sudan's minister of youth and sports, calling it a sign that the country was beginning -- however slowly -- to emerge from the shadow of war.

In Syria, celebration and anxiety shared the same narrow streets. In Damascus's Bab Tuma neighborhood, revelers in costumes threaded through the Old City beneath strings of colored lights. Fireworks crackled overhead as people cheered and filmed the moment.

"For the new year, I wish for security and peace to live among us after abandoning us for so long," said Jumana Issa, who works in tourism. Yet even as she spoke, she worried aloud about prices and instability. "Sometimes it feels like we're moving forward," she said. "Sometimes, like we're going backward."

Those fears were quickly reinforced. On New Year's Eve, a suicide bomber attempted to target a church in Aleppo, detonating his explosives near a security patrol instead. One security officer was killed. Days earlier, a bombing at a mosque in Homs had killed at least eight people, reigniting sectarian tensions and prompting protests and curfews in cities along Syria's coast.

The attacks served as a stark reminder of the fragility of Syria's transition, where hope and fear remain inextricably linked in the rhythm of daily life.

Nowhere, however, did the contrast between the calendar's promise and reality feel starker than in Gaza.

As 2026 began, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians marked the New Year in displacement camps and shattered neighborhoods, many living in tents pitched on bare ground or crowded into damaged buildings. Winter rains flooded shelters, turning dirt paths into mud. Electricity, clean water, and medical care remained scarce.

As displaced families clung to the ceasefire brokered months earlier between Israel and Hamas, their hopes rested on whether it could hold and whether political momentum might finally follow.

"I hope for peace and stability, but hope does not bring certainty," said Ali Abu Harbid, a volunteer with the Palestinian Red Crescent Society, speaking to Xinhua ahead of the New Year. "On the ground, nothing suggests the U.S.-sponsored peace process will succeed."

The foreign ministers of eight Arab and Islamic countries warned that Gaza's humanitarian situation was deteriorating rapidly, urging Israel to ensure continued access for United Nations agencies and aid groups. Flooded camps, collapsing buildings, and malnutrition, they said, were pushing civilians, especially children and the elderly, closer to catastrophe.

Even in the Gulf, tensions simmered beyond the celebrations. In southern Yemen, clashes between the secessionist Southern Transitional Council and the internationally recognized government escalated as the year turned, drawing Saudi airstrikes and exposing rare public rifts between Riyadh and the United Arab Emirates.

So as the Middle East stepped into 2026, it did so unevenly: with fireworks over new capitals and prayers over ruined homes; with festivals reclaiming streets in some cities, and bombs tearing through crowds in others.

The celebrations were real. So were the shadows. And for millions across the region, the new year arrived not as a clean break from the past, but as another chapter in a long struggle to imagine a safer future.