Hey, We Are Arabs. We Have No Ideology.

Don’t waste your time looking for a catalog to decode our actions. It doesn’t exist.

Let’s not pretend anymore.

Let’s drop the veil of solidarity, burn the speeches about unity, and say it out loud, just once—just this once:

We Arabs have no ideology.

We have reflexes. We have theatrics. We have pride soaked in sandstorms and slogans that rot the minute the cameras stop recording. But ideology? Consistency? A spine?

No. That, we do not have.

Let’s take the Emirates.

The United Arab Emirates signed the Abraham Accords with Israel. An act of boldness, many said. A vision for the future, some called it. A redefinition of Arab alliances, perhaps.

And yet—when the sky cracked and Israeli-Iranian tensions turned from whispers to missile trails, the UAE began singing a different tune.

Not only did they release a neutral statement that fell just short of rebuking Israel, but one of Sheikh Mohammed bin Zayed’s own advisors went so far as to lash out publicly:

"The Israeli Finance Minister had the audacity to call on the Gulf and Europe to fund the war."

وقاحة وزير مالية إسرائيل وصلت لدعوة الخليج وأوروبا لتمويل الحرب.

The outrage was not about war. It was about being asked to pay for it.

But wait, the plot thickens. Egyptian social media—never a place for silence—burst into satire. Memes accused the UAE of already funding Israel. Voices in the digital bazaar cried treason, accusing the Gulf of stabbing Palestine in the back with one hand while writing checks with the other.

The irony?

The very people mocking the Emiratis for dealing with Israel are, at the same time, showing sympathy for Iran—an Iran that once sponsored the same militias that targeted Arab capitals, that stoked war in Yemen, and propped up Assad in Syria. The same Iran whose drones are now glorified because they’re aimed at Israel.

So suddenly, Iran—our historical rival—becomes a comrade. And Israel—our new cousin by accord—becomes the enemy again. Why?

Because Iran is Muslim.

Because we confuse religion with alliance.

Because we still live by an old proverb that guides our politics more than any constitution:

“Me and my brother against my cousin. Me and my cousin against the stranger.”

That’s how we navigate power. Through shifting sands, through tribal instincts dressed in national flags.

One day, Israel is our partner.
The next, it is the invader.
One day, Iran is the enemy.
The next, it’s the resistance.

We chant Free Palestine at dawn and buy surveillance software from Tel Aviv by dusk.
We condemn Israeli airstrikes while letting their businessmen build towers in our capital.
We host Hamas in our press conferences and then ban their flags from our streets.

We are not hypocrites by mistake. We have weaponized hypocrisy into a survival tactic.

Some say this is strategic ambiguity. I say it is ideological poverty.

There is no Arab NATO. There is no Arab doctrine. There is no shared vision. There is only self-preservation, polished with holy verses and pan-Arab nostalgia.

We are too proud to admit it.
Too tribal to overcome it.
Too performative to fix it.

And too invested in our contradictions to change.

So yes, we Arabs are a riddle—written in calligraphy, soaked in poetry, and dipped in denial. You may try to understand us. You may even fall in love with our hospitality, our passions, our mythologies.

But don’t waste your time looking for a catalog to decode our actions. It doesn’t exist. Because we have no ideology. Just interests. And memories. And a thousand-year-old fear of standing still.