I was born in Damascus, Syria. I first came to the U.S. for my studies between 1986 and 1994, later returning in 2005 as a political asylee. In 2016, I proudly became a citizen and cast my first vote for Hillary Clinton. I supported Joe Biden in 2020. And in this election, I’m voting for Kamala Harris. Here’s why.
I’m not a single-issue voter. My guiding concern is the overall wellbeing of the U.S. However, the recent escalation in Israel and Palestine — an issue that’s angering many Arab and Muslim Americans and prompting a backlash against the Biden-Harris administration — compels me to address some difficult truths.
This is a complex crisis that cannot be simplified as a matter of “absolute right” or “absolute wrong.” Many of us responded to Hamas’s Oct. 7 attack with mixed feelings. Some even celebrated it, while urging further escalation by encouraging Hezbollah’s involvement and applauding Houthi attacks. Only a few of us were willing to condemn it outright without recourse to qualifiers.
We can’t ignore the implications this has for American politics or deny the controversy it generates. We think we are not being seen, but we are.
Arab and Muslim Americans have long sought fair representation, and the Biden-Harris administration has responded by appointing more of us to significant roles than any previous administration. Yet now, many of us call President Biden “Genocide Joe,” and some of us are planning to vote for Donald Trump.
By doing this, we ignore the delicate balancing act Biden and Harris are doing. We fail to consider the expectations other American communities hold toward the same Middle Eastern conflicts, the strong support that Republicans offer the current Israeli government and the fact that we are going through a polarizing election season. We simplify U.S.-Israel relations, assuming a quick call from Washington will force a cease-fire. But the reality is, Israel has its own agency and interests. Calls have been made, and yet the conflict continues.
Many of us also demand a halt to U.S. military aid to Israel, thinking it would guarantee a cease-fire. Even if this were feasible, Israel has other options to sustain its war, and the political repercussions here are substantial. When Harris pledged to work toward a cease-fire, she was met with criticism from Republicans for being “anti-Israel.” Some Arab and Muslim Americans deemed her efforts insufficient, switching support to Trump — or opting for Jill Stein, in effect giving an advantage to Trump in certain battleground states. Harris took a principled stand, yet as a consequence she faced backlash from all sides.
Some of us are endorsing Trump, hoping he “believes in peace.” This is the man who moved the American Embassy to Jerusalem, closed the American consulate in East Jerusalem, accepted Israel’s sovereignty over the occupied Golan Heights, and incited a riot at the U.S. Capitol in 2021. He brands his opponents as “the enemy within” and has pledged to challenge the election results if they don’t align with his expectations.
Do we truly believe this narcissistic man who did not utter a single word of sympathy for the Palestinians in Gaza, and who is running his final campaign with no need to worry about backlash, would prioritize Middle East peace or follow through on any promises? It’s no secret that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is hoping for a Trump victory, believing it would grant him free rein to pursue his own agenda.
Harris, in contrast, has repeatedly expressed her sympathy with the suffering of the Palestinians, and promised to advocate for a cease-fire, work toward peace talks and support Gaza’s reconstruction. This is a genuine and challenging commitment that comes at a political cost, requiring significant maneuvering to secure the critical congressional support needed to see it through when the time comes.
In a time marked by culture wars, geopolitical tensions, climate challenges and persistent social injustices, we must consider what is truly best for America. For many of us, that answer is not Trump. The issue of Palestine is vital and deserves our empathy, but we should avoid a decontextualized, all-or-nothing approach that elevates it above all other concerns — as Middle Eastern leaders have so often urged us to, even while denying us our own rights. This kind of misplaced loyalty was a hallmark of Ba’athist and Nasserist regimes, the very legacy that drove many of us to leave.
I’m voting for Harris because I don’t want to see the same divisive thinking that destabilized the Middle East imported here. I lost my birth homeland to populism, violence and corruption — I don’t want my adoptive homeland to suffer the same fate. In Harris, I see the steadiness and prudence, the sanity and sobriety, that America needs to navigate these troubled times.
Ammar Abdulhamid is a Syrian-American pro-democracy activist, parliamentarian and director of policy at the World Liberty Congress.
