As the hope for Arab-Israeli peace slips ever farther from reach and the expansion of the Abraham Accords slows, a new wave of polarization is taking hold. Democratic-socialist, left-wing populist figures like Zohran Mamdani, who rose in a few short years from rap singer to mayor of New York, have seized the moment, wielding their platforms with fierce and relentless hostility toward Israel.
The war in Gaza has become their rallying cry, fueling their rhetoric and intensifying their appeal to ever-wider audiences. Each new headline and heartbreak is quickly woven into a narrative that draws supporters closer, often at the cost of shutting out those who work for peace.
For Arab advocates struggling to foster dialogue and coexistence, the result is acutely personal. The louder the anger and division, the lonelier, riskier, and more painful it becomes to build bridges.
In today’s climate, reaching for understanding takes not just diplomacy but real courage and the willingness to pay a steep personal price.
Beyond politics
The struggles of peace advocates go beyond politics; they cut to the heart of their personal lives and sense of belonging. In the communities where they live, choosing dialogue or engagement with Israel is not simply unpopular; it’s branded as betrayal.
Arab proponents of normalization are frequently called “normalizers,” a term that carries accusations of being traitors or collaborators. The charge of “betraying the Palestinian cause” or “serving foreign interests” is weaponized in ways both public and insidiously private.
As one Palestinian peace advocate confided, “I thought I was helping my community, but the isolation was unbearable. Friends and family stopped talking to me. And I found myself blocked on social media.”
Gossip and online misinformation become powerful tools for opposition, shattering reputations and pushing even those with good intentions to the margins. The price they pay is profound: Close relationships unravel, professional aspirations are dashed, and the social ties that shape identity and dignity are painfully torn away.
For Arab advocates of peace and normalization, finding professional opportunities is a precarious and lonely endeavor. Editors often shy away from publishing their perspectives out of fear they’ll face backlash, while cultural and academic institutions, concerned about their reputations, rarely invite moderates to participate openly.
Even in Arab countries that celebrate the economic successes and technological advancements of the Abraham Accords, those wins do not translate into genuine protection or recognition for grassroots peace activists who carry the torch for normalization.
Stranded voices
Across the Atlantic, especially in the United States, these voices remain stranded: Political support from conservatives and Republicans tends to operate at the diplomatic level, leaving grassroots Arab advocates with little meaningful support or solidarity.
What was once a hopeful vision for a transnational network of moderates has devolved into a harsh landscape marked by abandonment and neglect.
As one Jordanian dialogue organizer said, “It’s a lonely road, but I still believe in building bridges. Silence surrounds us, while hate gets the microphone and the money.”
Their persistence, born of conviction and hope, is rarely rewarded; and more often, it is met with isolation or punishment.
In stark contrast to the isolation faced by peace advocates, those espousing antagonism toward normalization benefit from vast, well-resourced networks. Islamist and anti-normalization groups operate through webs of patronage, advocacy, and funding flowing from the Middle East into major Western capitals.
Amplifying hate
Legal aid, financial backing, and prominent media platforms are readily available to figures who loudly oppose dialogue, resources now amplified in the West by partnerships with influential liberal and left-leaning organizations.
Public calls for boycotts, divestment, and even more radical forms of activism attract funding not only from traditional donors in the region but also from Western foundations and NGOs operating under the banner of “social justice.”
These networks offer everything denied to pro-dialogue voices: legal support, access to the media, financial backing, and the power to lobby institutions. As one Lebanese civic organizer put it, those left behind “navigate a bleak landscape of abandonment. All you can do is keep trying, hoping the world will eventually hear us.”
Mamdani’s meteoric rise epitomizes a dramatic realignment in today’s political terrain, where voices of division and hostility gain amplification, while advocates of dialogue and normalization are sidelined. His campaign was propelled by a tightly coordinated infrastructure: One of his top contributors, the Unity & Justice Fund PAC, is linked to Council on American Islamic Relations (CAIR) and reportedly contributed some $120,000 to the effort.
Though not donating directly, Hungarian-American Jewish billionaire George Soros is alleged to have channeled tens of millions of dollars into groups that backed Mamdani via the Open Society Foundations.
Meanwhile, Bernie Sanders – the Democratic socialist American-Jewish senator from Vermont – publicly endorsed Mamdani as “a new leader of the Democratic Party,” helping to mainstream his candidacy in national progressive circles.
It is therefore no surprise that the Big Apple and symbol of capitalism now finds itself led by a figure embraced by Islamist and socialist coalitions, who is supported by woke funding streams. These realities become evident when one examines the networks behind him.
Setting the tone
In contrast, advocates for peace and normalization frequently endure sustained character attacks, career obstacles, and social isolation, often confronting these struggles alone and without meaningful institutional support, whether at home or abroad.
While New York’s mayor may not dictate US foreign policy, the symbolic and practical significance of the office is immense: New York’s political moves are watched internationally and can set a tone for national debates.
In today’s climate, Mamdani’s victory demonstrates how high-profile platforms and institutional dynamics increasingly reward the most confrontational voices, energizing anti-normalization groups and deepening the marginalization of bridge-builders who seek dialogue and coexistence.
For Arab peace advocates, his win presents not just a setback but a cautionary sign to younger moderates and those considering bridge-building: The risks of speaking up have grown too great. Instead of empowering movements to deepen or expand Arab-Israeli engagement, Mamdani’s win heightens the tide of public shaming, ostracism, and prolonged silence from potential allies.
The result is a chilling climate, where efforts to foster dialogue and expand the Abraham Accords are increasingly stifled, and where those advocating peace are left vulnerable in both their home and adopted societies.
What remains is not just a struggle to be heard but a fight to belong, to reclaim not just policies but the deeper bonds of community that make peace possible. The darkness lengthens over normalization, not because the case for peace is weak but because those who carry it are forced ever further into the margins.■
Najwa AlSaeed is a member of MENA 2050 and serves as a writer and researcher for several leading publications. She has lectured at multiple universities across the MENA (Middle East and North Africa) region. She can be reached at: najwasaied@hotmail.com