By Eng. Said B. Masri
The post–Cold War order is disintegrating. Institutions that once claimed to embody moral authority now stagger under the weight of their own contradictions. In the Middle East, this collapse of credibility is starkly visible: the same Western powers that invoke sovereignty and human rights in Ukraine turn away from them in Gaza. The region’s tragedy has become a mirror reflecting the West’s ethical erosion and strategic confusion.
What began as a conflict over land has evolved into a deeper struggle over values and legitimacy. The government led by Benjamin Netanyahu has effectively confiscated the Zionist project, transforming it from a modern-state experiment into an expansionist enterprise driven by religious nationalism and racial supremacy. Its military campaigns in Gaza, the West Bank, Syria, and Lebanon no longer even pretend to pursue security; they seek domination through devastation. What was once sold as a project of national survival has mutated into a doctrine of permanent siege.
The irony is that this radicalization threatens not only Palestinians and their neighbors but also the very foundations of the Western order that has enabled it. Each bomb dropped on Gaza, each settlement expanded in the West Bank, each incursion into Syrian or Lebanese territory chips away at the West’s claim to universal principles. The far-right ideology of Netanyahu’s coalition has dragged Israel—and by extension its Western allies—into a moral quagmire from which neither military technology nor diplomatic spin can escape.
Across Europe and North America, the reverberations are profound. Generations that grew up believing in liberal ideals are questioning the integrity of their governments and media. Campuses, editorial boards, and civic forums are erupting with dissent, not out of anti-Western sentiment but out of disillusionment with hypocrisy. The collapse of credibility is no longer a Middle Eastern issue; it is a Western one.
Among Jewish and non-Jewish intellectuals alike, a remarkable current of moral resistance is emerging. Economists such as Jeffrey Sachs and political realists like John Mearsheimer have dissected the self-defeating nature of U.S. and EU support for perpetual occupation, warning that moral blindness breeds strategic decline. Within the Jewish intellectual tradition itself, figures like Norman Finkelstein, Ilan Pappé, Peter Beinart, Naomi Klein, Bernard Avishai, Judith Butler, and Susan Neiman articulate an alternative vision—one rooted in justice, coexistence, and universal dignity. Their dissent demonstrates that rejecting Netanyahu’s ideology is not anti-Semitism; it is a defense of the very ethical core that political Zionism once claimed to uphold.
This awakening is not confined to academia. Cultural voices, faith leaders, and rights advocates across the West increasingly view the ongoing devastation as incompatible with democratic values. The images from Gaza and the West Bank are no longer distant tragedies but moral shocks that pierce through ideological filters. The younger generation—raised in a world of instant information and cross-cultural empathy—has begun to re-evaluate long-standing alliances. They are asking questions their leaders can no longer evade: What kind of order defends occupation while preaching freedom? What credibility remains for international law when its application depends on the victim’s identity?
Yet as this moral reckoning unfolds, the Arab world remains largely a spectator. It has not built the intellectual or diplomatic channels to engage these Western voices or to transform outrage into a coherent strategy. Official statements of condemnation are no substitute for a sustained campaign of dialogue, scholarship, and public diplomacy. In forfeiting this space, Arab governments allow others—NGOs, lobbies, or populist movements—to dominate the narrative and shape public opinion in their stead.
The missed opportunity is historic. The West’s crisis of conscience opens a rare window for re-framing the Palestinian question not merely as a regional dispute but as a universal test of justice. By allying with the Western thinkers, activists, and faith leaders who challenge moral double standards, the Arab world could reposition itself from perpetual victimhood to constructive leadership. Instead of relying solely on governments, Arab universities, media, and civil societies could convene forums that pair regional voices with Western intellectuals to draft a shared vision for peace and coexistence grounded in law, empathy, and equal dignity.
Such engagement would also serve Arab interests. The region’s stability and economic recovery depend on escaping the cycle of reaction and victimhood. Re-investing in intellectual diplomacy—through cultural centers, academic collaborations, and policy dialogues—could shift perceptions of the Arab world from a theater of crisis to a partner in global renewal. The moral authority squandered by Western hypocrisy can be partially reclaimed by Arab initiative.
Israel’s current course, meanwhile, is strategically ruinous. By pursuing annexation under the banner of divine entitlement, the Netanyahu government is isolating Israel not only from its neighbors but from the global conscience. Even its Western allies now face growing domestic opposition to unconditional support. The far-right narrative, steeped in theological exceptionalism, has turned a nation once admired for its innovation into a symbol of repression and apartheid. This ideological captivity—where religious zeal overrides political reason—cannot yield security. It breeds perpetual conflict and delegitimization.
In geopolitical terms, the implications extend far beyond Israel-Palestine. The visible double standard in Western foreign policy erodes its credibility in the Global South, accelerating the shift toward multipolarity led by China, Russia, and emerging regional blocs. When Western leaders invoke a “rules-based order,” much of the world now hears a euphemism for selective justice. The vacuum of trust that results invites rival powers to fill the moral and diplomatic void, reshaping alliances from the Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean.
For the West, reclaiming moral coherence requires more than cease-fire diplomacy; it demands confronting the extremism it has subsidized. For the Arab world, meeting this moment requires moving beyond reactive rhetoric toward strategic engagement with the global conscience now awakening. Between Western disillusionment and Arab paralysis lies the space for a new moral alliance—one that recognizes that the fight for Palestinian dignity is inseparable from the defense of global order itself.
If the Arab world seizes this opportunity, it can transform the narrative from despair to direction, from fragmentation to leadership. But time is not on its side. Every act of brutality deepens the fracture between the West’s proclaimed values and its practiced politics. The task ahead is not simply to condemn but to connect: to link Arab moral legitimacy with Western intellectual courage. Only then can the world begin to restore the idea that justice—universal, indivisible, and humane—is still possible amid global anarchy.
