By Abdikarim Haji Abdi Buh

The stark disparity between the nearly two billion Muslims around the world and the six million Jews in Israel often leads to a haunting question: why have the Muslims, despite their numbers failed to shift the balance of power in the Middle East? The answer lies not in population figures, but in a complex web of political fragmentation, strategic clarity, global alliances, and disproportionate influence—particularly in the United States.

The Muslim world, despite its size and spiritual unity under the banner of Islam, remains politically fractured and economically dependent. National interests routinely trump collective action. Disagreements between regional powers such as Iran, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Turkey, compounded by sectarian divides and external interventions, have eroded the idea of a unified front against Israeli occupation or expansion. From the Gulf monarchies that pursue normalization with Israel to countries mired in internal conflict like Syria, Yemen, and Libya, the lack of cohesive direction has undermined any collective geopolitical leverage.

Israel, by contrast, has maintained an extraordinary level of cohesion and strategic vision. It operates with clear objectives, cutting-edge military capabilities, and the unflinching support of the United States. Despite its small size, Israel commands significant influence over Western policy—especially in Washington. This support isn’t merely rhetorical. The U.S. provides billions in military aid, vetoes virtually every UN resolution critical of Israel, and lends diplomatic cover in every international forum.

But what drives this unwavering American support, even when a large segment of U.S. citizens—especially students, academics, labor unions, and progressive Jewish groups—stage mass demonstrations calling for an end to American complicity in what many now describe as genocide in Gaza and the West Bank?

The answer lies in the deeply entrenched influence of pro-Israel lobby groups such as AIPAC, and the immense political donations that come from wealthy segments of the American Jewish community. These donors bankroll candidates at every level of government, from the presidency to Congress and the Senate, ensuring that those who challenge the status quo rarely succeed. Some analysts have gone so far as to argue that U.S. foreign policy is, in effect, partially written in Tel Aviv.

President Donald Trump’s administration underscored this alignment. His move to relocate the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem, recognize Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights, and publicly defund American universities perceived to support the Palestinian cause were stark illustrations of how far the U.S. government would go to silence dissent. Even now, under a different administration, little has changed. Despite the horrors reported from Gaza, American-made weapons continue to flow, and diplomatic immunity remains intact.

This has led many Americans to ask an uncomfortable question: if their tax dollars fund a war they oppose, do they truly live in a democracy? Campus protests across the country—from Harvard to UCLA—have attempted to hold universities and political leaders accountable for supporting what many now label as war crimes. But instead of addressing the concerns, authorities often respond with repression, surveillance, and threats of defunding. This was made clear when Trump targeted pro-Palestinian voices by threatening to strip university funding, further blurring the line between foreign influence and domestic policy.

Israel’s military advantage is undeniable. With cutting-edge technology, a nuclear arsenal, sophisticated intelligence agencies, and elite air and ground forces, Israel has created a force multiplier effect that neutralizes its demographic disadvantage. Meanwhile, Muslim-majority nations often lack comparable capabilities, and many are mired in internal unrest, corruption, or economic instability.

Economic dependencies further paralyze political will. Muslim countries tied to Western markets or reliant on foreign aid find it diplomatically dangerous to challenge Israel openly. When normalization deals like the Abraham Accords emerged, they further fragmented the once unified stance on Palestine. This normalization, while defended on the basis of national interest, has left Palestinians increasingly isolated—abandoned even by those they considered allies.

Internal divisions have also been costly. The ideological split between Sunni and Shia powers, the rivalry between Islamist and secular movements, and the competition for regional dominance have created an environment where Palestine is often used as rhetoric, not as a real cause worth unified sacrifice. With some Muslim governments prioritizing regime survival over foreign policy principle, it becomes easier for external powers to exploit these rifts.

Meanwhile, Israel’s diplomatic machinery continues to function with precision. Through bilateral trade, intelligence sharing, cultural diplomacy, and media influence, Israel has cultivated allies across the globe. Its ability to frame itself as a beacon of democracy surrounded by hostile neighbors appeals to Western sensibilities, even as that narrative erodes under the weight of evidence from Gaza, the West Bank, and inside Israel itself.

In this imbalance, the Muslim world finds itself at a crossroads. Protests in Western capitals, particularly in the U.S., continue to swell. College campuses have become battlegrounds for free speech and moral clarity. Yet, the political establishment remains largely unmoved, protected by a system that rewards loyalty to the pro-Israel narrative and punishes deviation. The complicity of mainstream media further reinforces this silence, often labeling Palestinian resistance as terrorism while ignoring the systemic violence of occupation.

The failure to overcome Israel’s dominance is thus not rooted in faith or demographics but in strategy and political will. The Muslim world must reckon with this reality: as long as unity remains elusive and strategic coordination absent, numbers alone will not yield justice. Even the most impassioned moral argument will fall flat if not backed by concrete policy, coordinated action, and long-term vision.

The world’s response to Gaza will only change when the Muslim world, in concert with a truly mobilized global conscience, decides to act with purpose and resolve. That means investing in education, media, diplomacy, and technology—matching the tools of influence that Israel has used to secure its global standing. It means refusing to allow foreign powers to dictate internal policies through aid conditionalities. And it means recognizing that protests alone, while powerful, must be connected to political transformation at home and abroad. Until then, the imbalance persists—not because the world is blind, but because those with the power to see clearly have chosen to look the other way. The question is no longer why two billion Muslims can’t defeat six million Jews—but why they haven’t yet chosen to mobilize with the unity, discipline, and strategic foresight necessary to tip the scales of history.

Abdikarim Haji Abdi Buh 
Email: abdikarimbuh@yahoo.com