A week ago, Muslims across the world observed the Eid al-Fitr holiday on Sunday, March, 30. Millions celebrated with nice clothes, decorated homes and sweet desserts, as is the Islamic tradition on the Eid holidays. But in Gaza, Eid was observed under the weight of immense grief.
In a searing piece for The New Arab, Palestinian journalist Abubaker Abed, from Gaza, writes:
“For 538 days, I mistakenly believed that the Muslim world would come to our aid… I ask you now: How can you rejoice while we are wrapped in shrouds? How can you wear your finest clothes while we are wrapped in shrouds? How can you enjoy sweets while the children in my neighbourhood draw food in the sand?”needs you.” His words are not an exaggeration. They are an indictment. They are also a warning.
Abed’s piece, written from a state of malnutrition, moral clarity, and raw anguish, is a mirror held up to the Muslim world—a mirror that reflects not just silence, but decay.
What have we really done for Gaza? That is the only question worth asking this Eid.
‘We Care’ is not the same as ‘We Acted’
According to Al Jazeera’s live tracker, since the genocide began, over 61,709 Palestinians have been killed, including 17,492 children, 111,588 injured, with 14,222 reported missing and presumed dead.
These figures do not include deaths caused by starvation, malnutrition, or the lack of medical care, as the majority of Gaza’s hospitals have been destroyed by Israel, as it continues to block the entry of medical supplies and essential medicines.
And yet, the mood in much of the Muslim world, though sympathetic, feels detached.
Empathy without action is complicity. We must ask ourselves: Is anything we’ve done for Gaza and the rest of Occupied Palestine truly enough?
Abed’s words cut deep because they are painfully true: “You never truly stood up against your governments, nor did you pressure them to end their sales and connections with Israel.”
While some may argue that Muslims globally are more engaged than ever before, that engagement has not translated into sustained, coordinated action.
Muslim heads of state issue carefully worded statements. Protestors chant in the streets, but the sound rarely makes it past their own echo chambers.
Many have kept the momentum alive in cities like New York and London. On campuses, students continue to resist at great personal risk.
But these pockets of sustained resistance are exceptions — not the rule.
WhatsApp groups that once buzzed with strategy meetings focused on Palestine have become increasingly rare, drowned out by spam. There is a noticeable dip in energy, urgency, and sustained engagement.
Meanwhile, major Muslim countries have offered no coordinated economic or political pressure on Israel. Instead, many have strengthened their ties. What’s more troubling is the lack of serious public response to hold these governments accountable.
Yes, it’s true: much of the Arab and Muslim world is ruled by dictators, autocrats, or governments reliant on Western support for their survival. But the Muslim world must ask itself: is that a valid excuse?
Must Palestinians give everything while we hide behind fear? And how else will change come if people do not mobilize against massive injustice with massive mobilization?