'Time to shake things up': Michigan's Arab Americans vote with Gaza in mind
On Election Day, Arab American voters in Dearborn city line up with a mix of anger and purpose. TRT World captures the voices of a community whose votes could tip the scales bringing a powerful reckoning to the ballot box.
Dearborn, Michigan — The chill settled in thick as dawn cracked over Michigan, with Election Day crowds shuffling into community centres and school gymnasiums in the city of Dearborn.
It felt almost ritualistic: Arab American families in wind-breakers, elders clutching walking sticks, younger ones with their heads down, scrolling news updates.
But this year, the stakes are piercingly clear, and the mood is edgy.
Outside one polling station near First Presbyterian Church on N Brady Road in Dearborn, a group of young men in fall jackets, pausing for coffee, exchanged quiet predictions about what the day would hold.
"I’m voting, but I don't even know why," says Ahmed Dabbous, a 28-year-old second-generation Lebanese American.
He backed Biden in 2020, but Israel's war on besieged Gaza left him feeling let down.
"Maybe it's time for me and some of us to shake things up."
Indeed, anger here is raw.
More than 200,000 Arab Americans live across Michigan, most concentrated in this small Detroit suburb, located in Wayne County.
Once firmly Democratic, many now feel abandoned. And while traditionally, this community has been a pillar for Democratic candidates, this election has upended those allegiances.
The discontent stems from a cascade of bitter events.
The Biden administration's tepid response to Israel's war on Gaza, and the images saturating family WhatsApp chats of bombed homes and hospitals, has stirred up a deep sense of betrayal.
'For many of us, Stein is a protest'
For some, a vote for Green Party candidate Jill Stein is emerging as a form of protest, a quiet but emphatic "no" to the Democrats.
Stein's impact may seem negligible at first glance.
But in a state where margins are razor-thin, siphoning off a few thousand votes from Harris could hand Michigan, and the election, to Trump.
This isn't lost on Amira Hassan, a Dearborn city voter who voted for Stein.
"For many of us, Stein is a protest, a way to say, 'Don't take us for granted.' I know that might mean Trump wins," she says, her voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resolve.
For Trump, the timing couldn't be better. He's made strategic overtures in Michigan, concluding his campaign with a rally in Grand Rapids.
It was classic Trump — leaning into discontent with promises of "real change."
Last week, he stood with the mayor of Hamtramck, a majority Arab American suburb of Detroit, and subtly echoed themes of religious freedom and personal agency that resonated with the community.
Back on North Brady, an older man named Khaled, watching a relative exit the polling station, grumbles about the election.
"When I came to this country, I trusted these leaders would fight for justice," he says, his eyes narrowed. "Now? I don't know. I don't know if my vote will even count in the way I want it to."
He pauses, wiping his glasses. "But today, I will make it count for something."
Nearby, Maryam Khoury, a mother of three, voted early for Harris but wonders if she made the right choice.
"If we don't vote, we lose our voice entirely," she says. For her, it's a battle between frustration and fear of the alternative.
'Real reckoning for our community has just begun'
Near the polling stations, the atmosphere is focused, almost solemn. Election workers guide voters to ballot booths where they mark their choices — choices they've agonised over.
The beeps of the machines registering the votes brought me a strange calm, Asad, a university graduate told TRT World.
For many in Dearborn, though, each click was an answer, each beep a final statement.
More than half the residents trace their roots to the Middle East or North Africa, the Arab American vote here is anything but incidental.
Back in 2016, Trump snatched Michigan by a razor-thin 10,000 votes, edging out Hillary Clinton. Then, in 2020, Biden swung it back, claiming a decisive 150,000-vote lead.
This year, as they line up to vote, the mood here feels charged — a quiet awareness that, once again, their choices could shape the nation's future.
Even a small shift could tip the scales this Tuesday. Tonight, the results will start to filter in, though the winner may remain unknown well into the night.
"It's strange," says Amira, watching as voters pour into the polling station. "It's like the quiet before a storm. But this isn't the end. Whatever happens today, the real reckoning for our community has just begun."