This April marked Arab American Heritage Month in the United States, however, it passed not with fanfare, but instead with fear.
Across the country, Arab Americans have found it difficult to celebrate, weighed down by the ongoing genocide in Gaza and a growing sense of insecurity at home.
For many, the fear runs deeper than cancelled events or muted celebrations; it is a growing sense of losing the feeling of “home” itself, and they are now left questioning their place in a country they have long called their own.
“We are living through a state of shock,” said Imad Hamad, executive director of the American Human Rights Council. “People are afraid; afraid to speak, to organise, even to gather.”
The idea of celebrating felt not only out of place but almost impossible under the current climate of political pressure and public antagonism.
That fear became painfully visible when, just 48 hours before a major heritage celebration was set to take place at Amazon’s Crystal City campus in Virginia, the Arab America Foundation received a notice informing them that the event was cancelled.
Hundreds of guests, musicians, and volunteers, many of whom had already travelled from across the country, were left scrambling as organisers rushed to relocate the event to a church hall miles away.
The abrupt cancellation was officially blamed on “technical issues,” but organisers say the deeper cause was clear: a growing discomfort with Arab visibility in a political environment that feels increasingly hostile.
“It was devastating,” said Dr Amal David, the co-founder of the Arab America Foundation. “We couldn’t believe it, after all the planning, after all the promises, it was gone in an instant.”
Growing fear
Arab American Heritage Month itself is a relatively recent recognition. For years, celebrations were scattered across different states and cities, with no unified national acknowledgement.
In 2022, President Joe Biden officially proclaimed April as Arab American Heritage Month, a move that many in the community saw as long-overdue recognition of their contributions to American society.
But the political winds have shifted sharply.
With Donald Trump back in power, many fear that the modest progress made under the Biden administration, including public recognition of Arab Americans, is now being quietly rolled back.
This year, no proclamation was issued by the White House, and the silence has not gone unnoticed.
“We tried to reach out several times,” Dr Amal explained, “but by the end of the month, there was still no official proclamation from the government.”
With this week marking 100 days since Donald Trump’s inauguration, the US president is seeing historically low poll numbers reflecting growing discontent across the country, as opposition grows against an increasingly hardline US administration.
And the atmosphere this year reflects that political shift. Organisations that once easily secured proclamations from governors and state agencies now face cold shoulders and bureaucratic hurdles.
“Usually, we get about 150 proclamations, but this year, we barely got a hundred,” said Dr Amal.
Attendance at events has dropped dramatically as well. “Many people are simply too afraid to attend anything labelled Arab,” she added, pointing to a climate where political activism or even cultural celebration can be seen as a risk.
A community in mourning
At the heart of this retreat is not just fear of repression, but profound grief.
The ongoing Israeli genocide in Gaza has cast a heavy shadow over the community, making celebrations feel almost unbearable.
“How can we gather to celebrate when our people are bleeding?” asked Imad Hamad.
For many Arab Americans, the devastation in Gaza is personal, a daily source of sadness that has eclipsed any desire to focus on heritage celebrations.
Instead of celebrating, the community has been channelling its energy into political protests, legal defence efforts for targeted students and activists, and urgent calls to stop the violence. The mood is not one of apathy, but of mourning and resistance.
The fear today, many say, is even more acute than it was after 9/11.
“The challenges we face now are tougher,” said Imad Hamad. “After September 11, it was a dark time, but we crossed that bridge. I believe we can cross this one, too.”
Real action, real power, and real representation
Despite the current climate of repression and uncertainty, Hamad remains hopeful that Arab Americans can emerge stronger, but only if they find new ways to organise, to build collective political influence, and to anchor their identity proudly in American public life.
“We must continue the work,” he said, “because our presence, our voices, and our rights are not gifts; they are the results of struggle, and they must be protected.”
These are difficult times for Arab communities in the United States, but the sense of crisis extends far beyond American borders.
Across the Middle East, the devastation in Gaza and growing political instability have left many questioning old assumptions and searching for new paths forward.
As Imad Hamad reflected, heritage celebrations lose their meaning if they are not matched by real action, real power, and real representation.
For many Arab Americans, the sentiment is the same; the road ahead under a Trump administration will be even harder.
Samah Wattad is an investigative journalist and a Master’s student in Communication at George Washington University, specialising in political communications. With over nine years of experience, her work focuses on politics, disinformation, and media influence
