Gaza at the Western Ballot Box
The question today is no longer whether Israel’s war on Gaza has changed Israel’s image in the West — that much is already evident in opinion polls, on university campuses, in the streets, and in the media, and most clearly among younger generations. The more important question is: has this shift moved from the moral and protest arenas into the political and electoral ones? Are we looking at a wave tied to the war that could later recede, allowing the Zionist movement to regain the initiative — or is what is happening deeper, touching one of the most important historical pillars of Israeli power: its capacity to influence Western policy, and American policy in particular?
In this context, a recent Sunday Times report on the Palestine solidarity campaign in Britain offers a useful entry point for an answer — and its significance lies precisely in the fact that it was written from an apprehensive, even hostile, angle toward the campaign. This begins with the headline itself, which speaks of local councils’ “obsession” with Gaza, and extends to a search for an alleged Iranian connection, without offering any evidence of Iranian funding. Yet paradoxically, the information the report itself provides reveals a different and more significant story: the campaign, founded decades ago, is no longer merely a framework for organizing marches and protests but has moved into a more advanced phase of political action — pressuring council members, influencing elections, mobilizing the pension-fund divestment issue, and building networks with Greens, independents, and the left. Its income rose from roughly £700,000 in 2023 to millions of pounds after the Gaza war, while dozens of local councils have become arenas for debate over Israel and Israel-linked investments.
The new Western generation is no longer confined within the traditional Zionist narrative that took shape after the Second World War.
Alongside this, British Palestinian political presence has itself developed, most notably through the British Palestinian Committee, which operates differently from the solidarity movement but converges with it in outcome — shifting the Palestinian cause from the street and protest into the space of policymaking and institutional influence. We are, then, witnessing a gradual transition from “solidarity with Palestine” toward building a more organized Palestinian, Arab, and Muslim political influence within Western democracies. Perhaps the most telling phrase in the newspaper’s own report is that “Gaza has become a line on the ballot paper.”
This phenomenon is not confined to Britain. The American picture matters more, because the United States has been and remains the center of gravity of Israel’s external power. The rise of Zohran Mamdani in New York and Abdul El-Sayed in Michigan, and before them Rashida Tlaib and Ilhan Omar, should not be reduced to the rise of two Muslim politicians or politicians of immigrant background. Rather, it reflects a new political and social alliance in which the Palestinian cause converges with the progressive Democratic current, and with issues of social justice, immigration, economic inequality, criticism of major corporations, and lobbying groups.
What happened recently in Michigan offers a case worth pausing over. AIPAC and affiliated groups spent tens of millions of dollars in the Democratic Senate primary. Yet they were unable to prevent the victory of Abdul El-Sayed, who was backed by Bernie Sanders and the progressive wing.
This does not, of course, mean the end of AIPAC or the collapse of the pro-Israel lobby, but something important is shifting: the political money that once made criticizing Israel a costly electoral gamble is no longer always able to deter or defeat candidates, nor to control the media in the way the Zionist messaging machine once did — a machine now in a state of fragmentation as social media grows in its role of reshaping the image and the narrative for new generations in America.
The numbers appear more telling than the slogans. In a Gallup poll from February 2026, 41 percent of Americans said their sympathies lay more with the Palestinians compared with 36 percent with the Israelis; among Americans aged 18 to 34, that gap widened to 53 percent for the Palestinians versus 23 percent for the Israelis. Among young Democrats the picture is even clearer: Pew Research Center data showed 72 percent view Palestinians positively compared with 26 percent for Israelis.
These figures reflect a shift deeper than a stance on any particular war. The new Western generation is no longer confined within the traditional Zionist narrative that took shape after the Second World War — one that presented Israel as the small, besieged state locked in a permanent existential struggle. Instead, the new generation follows events from an entirely different vantage point: a devastated Gaza, children and victims and famine, the settlements and the West Bank. Social media has broken traditional media’s monopoly on image and information, allowing the Palestinian narrative to enter directly into the Western public sphere.
This brings us to Ilan Pappé’s important analysis of the erosion of the political and cultural environment that historically provided the Zionist project with exceptional support in the West. Still, it is premature to declare the end of the pro-Israel lobby; it retains an enormous network within Congress, both parties (Democratic and Republican), think tanks, and economic and media institutions. Moreover, the American-Israeli military and strategic relationship runs far deeper than any single demonstration, election, or new generation of politicians could overturn.
On the other side, another shift of no less importance is under way. As sympathy for Israel declines among segments of liberals and Democrats, a force that had historically stood behind the pro-Israel Jewish lobby has moved to the front ranks: evangelical Christian Zionism. This movement has today become a core part of the Republican base and the Trumpist coalition, offering support for Israel built on a mix of religious, civilizational, and political considerations. Yet even this camp is no longer as unified as it once was; the Gaza war, followed by the Iran war, exposed a contradiction within the MAGA movement — between evangelicals who support Israel in almost absolute terms, and the “America First” current, which poses a different question: why should the United States be drawn into Middle Eastern wars for Israel’s sake?
The success of Mamdani, El-Sayed, Tlaib, and Omar does not mean the Democratic Party is adopting their positions — Israel and Palestine may instead become one of its central fault lines.
The picture, therefore, is more complex than a simple decline of the Zionist lobby and rise of a “Palestinian lobby.” What we are witnessing is better described as major political fluidity within both American parties: a progressive wing of growing strength inside the Democratic Party facing off against the more traditional establishment closer to Israel; and, on the other side, a strong evangelical wing inside the Republican Party facing an isolationist or populist current that questions the cost of America’s commitment to Israel. Gaza has become one of the battlegrounds of these internal struggles. At the same time, it is essential to keep in mind that the rise of the pro-Palestinian current carries its own contradictions: the success of Mamdani, El-Sayed, Tlaib, and Omar does not mean the Democratic Party is adopting their positions; indeed, “Israel and Palestine” may instead become one of the party’s central fault lines. What gives progressives momentum in New York, Michigan, and California may, in other regions, turn into mobilizing material that Republicans use against Democrats — especially once the Palestinian cause becomes entangled with questions of immigration, Islam, and American identity.
In conclusion, a profound shift is underway in Western politics. Traditional polarization once revolved primarily around class: workers and unions and the left against capital and conservatives. Class has not disappeared today, but it has become deeply intertwined with questions of identity, culture, immigration, religion, and race. In this way, Palestine itself has become part of the Western “culture war” — for segments of the left, tied to colonialism, justice, and human rights; and for segments of the right, tied to immigration, Islam, Western identity, and security.