For decades, marketers tried to persuade consumers that brands meant more than the products they sold. A soft drink was supposed to represent happiness, a coffee shop community, a fast-food restaurant familiarity, a pair of shoes identity, and a technology company a set of values about the future. That strategy worked so well that companies now face an uncomfortable consequence: consumers increasingly judge brands on things that have nothing to do with taste, convenience, packaging, or price. The Palestinian solidarity boycotts that expanded across the Middle East and beyond after the war in Gaza became one of the clearest demonstrations of this shift. Consumers did not simply ask whether they liked a product anymore; many began asking what purchasing that product represented.

By 2024, this was already measurable at a scale too large to dismiss as social-media noise. An Edelman survey of 15,000 consumers found that more than one in three respondents globally said they were boycotting brands because of perceived positions around the Gaza war, with that figure reaching 72 percent in Saudi Arabia and 57 percent in the UAE. The same research found that 60 percent of respondents globally were choosing or rejecting brands partly according to political considerations, while 78 percent said a company's country of origin could affect whether they bought from it. Whatever marketers think about consumers making political decisions through shopping, the behavior itself became commercially important. A brand strategy built around the assumption that customers would neatly separate geopolitics from breakfast, coffee, soda, burgers, or entertainment no longer reflected the market. 

A Purchase Became a Tiny Political Statement

Consumer boycotts are obviously not new, including those connected to Palestinian rights, but the latest wave has lasted far longer and spread through a much more connected media environment than many earlier campaigns. Social platforms allow boycott lists, screenshots, company histories, product alternatives, accusations, corrections, and shopping recommendations to circulate almost instantly between markets. Someone in Cairo can discover an alternative drink from a TikTok, someone in Doha can compare boycott lists in a WhatsApp group, and someone in Beirut can photograph a local coffee shop opposite an international chain and turn an ordinary purchasing decision into public content. The boycott therefore becomes visible to other consumers in a way that private purchasing decisions once were not. Shopping is not merely behavior anymore; it can become communication.

This visibility matters because social accountability is one of the mechanisms that can make boycotts last longer than ordinary changes in consumer preference. TIME reported in 2024 that researchers studying boycotts generally find many campaigns fade relatively quickly, but the Gaza-related movement had already outlasted the typical pattern and was giving consumers enough time to establish new habits. Food and beverages are particularly susceptible because consumption often happens socially, making product choices visible to friends, colleagues, and family. A person ordering a local cola at a restaurant may be making an individual decision, but everyone at the table can see it. Once the choice acquires social meaning, the product is no longer competing only on flavor. 

Not Every Boycott List Is the Same

One important distinction is often lost online: the Palestinian-led Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement does not treat every company appearing on a viral boycott graphic as an official priority target. Its current guidance distinguishes between priority consumer boycott targets, companies targeted by broader grassroots campaigns that BDS supports, and companies subjected primarily to pressure campaigns. McDonald's and Coca-Cola appear in the movement's category of grassroots organic boycott targets, along with companies such as Burger King, Pizza Hut, Papa John's and Domino's. Starbucks is different because it has been widely boycotted by consumers but has not been listed as an official BDS consumer target in the same way. That difference matters if the conversation is going to be based on actual corporate behavior rather than simply whatever list happens to circulate most widely. 

That distinction actually makes the marketing story more interesting, because it shows that centralized campaigns are only one part of the phenomenon. Consumers can build a reputational narrative around a company without waiting for an organization to formally designate it. Corporate statements, franchise actions, employee disputes, viral claims, historical business relationships, and perceptions about a company's home country can all combine into a simplified conclusion that travels far faster than the underlying corporate structure. Sometimes that conclusion is well documented, and sometimes misinformation becomes mixed into it. From a marketer's perspective, both situations matter because reputational damage is produced by what consumers believe while corrective communication has to deal with what can actually be substantiated.

Coca-Cola and Pepsi Lost Something More Valuable Than a Sale

Few products demonstrate the power of habit better than Coca-Cola and Pepsi. In large parts of the Middle East, ordering one of them had become almost automatic, which is precisely the kind of default position marketers spend generations trying to create. Consumers did not necessarily evaluate the entire carbonated-drinks market every time they sat down to eat; they asked for Coke or Pepsi because those names had become part of the category itself. The Gaza boycotts interrupted that automatic behavior and forced millions of consumers to reconsider a decision they had barely recognized as a decision. For regional competitors, that represented an extraordinary opportunity.

Egypt provides one of the clearest examples. The century-old Egyptian soft-drink brand Spiro Spathis saw demand surge after consumers began moving away from Coca-Cola and Pepsi, with the company reporting severalfold sales increases during the first months of the boycott. Another Egyptian brand, V7, expanded quickly enough that Reuters later reported its exports had tripled, while shops and restaurants increasingly searched for domestic substitutes. In neighboring markets, Jordan's Matrix Cola and Saudi Arabia's Kinza became increasingly visible as alternatives, while Lebanon saw restaurants offer brands such as Jalloul and Zee Cola. The UAE has also seen consumers seeking locally produced options including Shams, while Saudi brands such as Milaf Cola entered a market much more receptive to alternatives than it had been a few years earlier. 

Pakistan provides another useful example because the change was large enough to show up in market-share data. Reuters reported that local brands including Cola Next and Pakola increased their combined share on ecommerce platform Krave Mart from roughly 2.5 percent to 12 percent as consumers looked for substitutes. These are still small competitors beside global beverage giants, but the strategic significance lies in the trial rather than the immediate market share. Coca-Cola and Pepsi had already done the expensive work of teaching customers to consume cola regularly; local brands only needed to persuade them to switch which cola they purchased. The boycott therefore gave competitors access to customers who might otherwise never have had a reason to experiment. 

The Boycott Became a Giant Sampling Campaign for Competitors

Marketers normally spend enormous amounts of money trying to convince consumers to try something unfamiliar. They offer discounts, distribute samples, pay creators, buy shelf space, run introductory advertising, and accept lower margins because the hardest purchase is often the first one. The boycott movement reversed that dynamic because political motivation supplied the trial incentive for free. A shopper who had purchased Coca-Cola for twenty years suddenly had an emotional reason to pick up Spiro Spathis, Kinza, Matrix Cola, V7, Jalloul, or another alternative despite never having considered it before. No conventional launch campaign could easily reproduce that level of motivation.

The long-term question is whether temporary substitution becomes permanent preference. A consumer may initially buy Kinza because of Palestine, but six months later they may buy it because they now like Kinza. A restaurant may switch suppliers for political reasons and later discover that the local relationship is cheaper, more flexible, or easier to promote to customers. This is where the boycott becomes much more threatening to an incumbent than a temporary decline in quarterly sales. Once the customer discovers that the default brand was partly habit, the multinational has to win back a person it previously assumed it already owned.

Some New Brands Put Palestine Directly on the Can

Other alternatives have gone further by making Palestinian solidarity the product's explicit reason for existing. TIME reported that Palestine Drinks, founded by a Palestinian-owned company in Sweden, sold roughly 16 million cans within its first five months, with proceeds directed toward projects supporting Palestinian civil society. Cola Gaza similarly entered the market presenting itself directly as a Coke alternative, using Palestinian imagery as a central part of the brand rather than merely allowing customers to infer a political position. These products demonstrate an unusual form of positioning because the functional benefit is almost secondary. Consumers are buying cola, but the proposition is participation.

That is particularly interesting from a branding perspective because most consumer products spend years trying to attach meaning to something functionally ordinary. Water is turned into lifestyle, sneakers into identity, coffee into community, and cars into status. Palestine Drinks began with the meaning already attached, which gave an otherwise undifferentiated beverage an immediate story, audience, and media hook. The challenge will be whether those businesses can retain customers once novelty and political urgency fluctuate. Political identity can produce trial, but product quality, availability, price, and distribution still decide whether a beverage survives after the first purchase. 

Starbucks Discovered That Corporate Facts and Consumer Perception Are Different Things

Starbucks is perhaps the most useful example of why companies need to understand the difference between an official campaign and a consumer movement. The chain has not operated stores in Israel since 2003, and Starbucks has repeatedly said that it does not fund the Israeli government or military. Much of the modern backlash accelerated after the company sued Starbucks Workers United following a pro-Palestinian social-media post that used Starbucks branding, while rumors about the company spread much further than the details of the trademark dispute. The boycott then took on a life of its own across markets where Starbucks had become a highly visible symbol of American consumer culture. Whether every customer could accurately describe why Starbucks was on their personal boycott list became less important commercially than the fact that they had stopped going. 

The effects became substantial enough to affect the company's regional operating system. Reuters reported in March 2024 that Alshaya Group, which operates Starbucks across much of the Middle East and North Africa, planned to eliminate more than 2,000 jobs after what the company described as challenging trading conditions associated with boycott-driven declines. Starbucks also acknowledged that conflict-related perceptions had negatively affected traffic and sales in the Middle East. The local employees losing jobs were not responsible for international politics, which demonstrates one of the uncomfortable economic realities of consumer boycotts: pressure on multinational brands also passes through local franchisees, suppliers, workers, and landlords. That does not make the boycott economically meaningless, but it does make its consequences more complex than a logo on a protest graphic suggests. 

Then Stories Coffee Was Sitting Across the Street

In Lebanon, one of the most visually perfect illustrations of the shift appeared in Zalka, where Lebanese chain Stories Coffee operates almost directly opposite a Starbucks. Stories was not created because of the Gaza boycott; it had been founded by Lebanese entrepreneur Tarek Nasser in 2021 and was already expanding before the latest wave of consumer activism. Yet the company's representatives acknowledged that the boycott positively affected sales, while customers interviewed by The National explicitly described choosing Stories because it allowed them to avoid Starbucks without giving up the café experience they wanted. By early 2024, the company had nine branches, employed around 150 people, and planned further expansion. A geopolitical consumer movement had effectively become customer acquisition for a local brand that happened to be ready when the market shifted. 

Stories is strategically interesting because it demonstrates that consumers are rarely asking to sacrifice the underlying need. People who boycott Starbucks do not necessarily want to stop drinking iced coffee, sitting with friends, opening laptops in cafés, or buying pastries. They want another company to provide the same occasion. This means the true beneficiary of a boycott is often not ideological purity but competitive substitution. A local business that can match the convenience, consistency, environment, and quality of the global chain can transform political anger into ordinary repeat business.

McDonald's Exposed the Weakness Hidden Inside Global Branding

McDonald's spent decades teaching customers that the golden arches represented the same essential brand wherever they appeared. That consistency is one of the company's greatest achievements, but the Gaza boycott exposed the reverse side of the strategy. When one franchise associated with the brand announced that it had provided free meals to soldiers, customers thousands of kilometers away did not necessarily distinguish between a local franchisee, a regional licensee, and McDonald's Corporation in Chicago. They saw McDonald's. The company later emphasized that the franchise decision had been made independently, while franchise operators across Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Kuwait, Qatar, Egypt, Jordan and other markets distanced themselves from it and announced donations for Palestinian relief. 

The clarification did not prevent a measurable commercial effect. McDonald's chief executive acknowledged a “meaningful business impact” across several Middle Eastern markets, and the company reported dramatically weaker sales growth in its division containing the Middle East than analysts had expected. Boycott-related weakness continued affecting results later in 2024, alongside broader economic pressures. McDonald's subsequently agreed to acquire the 225 restaurants operated by the franchise whose actions had become a focal point of the controversy, although the company did not say the boycott alone caused that transaction. The situation demonstrated that legal separation is not the same thing as brand separation. 

Local Fast Food Did Not Need to Invent a New Appetite

The opportunity for local fast-food businesses followed the same logic as the beverage market. Consumers did not stop wanting burgers, chicken, fries, or convenient meals; they simply became more willing to look at who else could provide them. In Egypt, local restaurant Tafwela responded unusually directly, publishing an offer to hire workers who wanted to leave McDonald's during the boycott moment. Other local operators used their domestic identity as part of their appeal, while established regional companies already offered alternatives, including Saudi Arabia's AlBaik and Saudi burger chain Burgerizzr, which today operates more than 120 branches across 25 cities. Not every regional restaurant has publicly reported a boycott-driven sales surge, so it would be misleading to claim that every local chain grew because of Palestine, but the competitive environment clearly shifted in their favor by giving consumers a reason to reconsider global defaults. 

That distinction is important because the strongest marketing outcome may not be the creation of one “new McDonald's.” The boycott can fragment demand across hundreds of local restaurants rather than transfer it neatly to a single competitor. Cairo, Beirut, Amman, Riyadh, Doha, Kuwait City and Dubai already contained substantial independent and regional food scenes before the boycott, but multinational chains benefited from extraordinary habitual recognition and standardized convenience. Once consumers deliberately began searching for alternatives, local operators gained visibility they did not need to manufacture through traditional advertising. The market did not need a new appetite; it needed a reason to redirect an existing one.

A Global Logo Became a Global Liability

This exposes a paradox at the heart of multinational branding. Companies want the same identity to travel everywhere because recognition creates efficiency, trust, and scale. The consumer should see the logo in Cairo, London, Dubai, Kuala Lumpur or New York and immediately know what to expect. But that same consistency means reputational problems travel across borders just as quickly as product recognition does. You cannot spend decades teaching consumers that every location belongs emotionally to one brand and then suddenly ask them to appreciate the subtleties of franchise law when one part of the system creates controversy.

This is especially difficult in the Middle East because many multinational outlets are operated by local companies employing local people, buying from local suppliers, paying local landlords, and contributing to local economies. Corporate responses repeatedly emphasized this point, and it is factually relevant. Yet consumers participating in the boycott often judged the symbol rather than the ownership structure because the brand itself was what gave the franchise value in the first place. Global branding concentrates reputation, and concentrated reputation creates both enormous commercial power and enormous exposure.

Local Became More Than a Country-of-Origin Label

The boycott also changed what “local” meant in marketing. Buying a regional product could represent support for domestic manufacturing, local employment, Palestinian solidarity, reduced dependence on multinational brands, or all of those ideas simultaneously. That is much richer positioning than the traditional “made locally” message, which can otherwise feel like a weak substitute for an international brand with larger advertising budgets. Suddenly the local brand had a story that the global brand could not easily copy.

The effect was visible beyond food and coffee. In Jordan, Majid Al Futtaim ended Carrefour operations in 2024 and replaced the chain with Hypermax across 34 locations, emphasizing local sourcing and regional relevance, although the company did not publicly attribute the decision to boycott pressure. Social-media users and boycott campaigners nonetheless interpreted the transition through the political environment surrounding Carrefour. The case demonstrates how quickly local identity can become strategically valuable when international brands acquire geopolitical baggage. A retailer that previously competed primarily on assortment and price suddenly also competed on what its name represented. 

Boycotts Turn Brand Research Into a Consumer Hobby

Another reason this movement has been unusually powerful is that consumers became investigators. Social media filled with graphics showing corporate ownership structures, franchise relationships, parent companies, subsidiaries, investments, donations and alleged connections. Some of that information was accurate, while some was badly researched or entirely false. The result was a kind of decentralized brand due diligence conducted by millions of people who had previously never cared who owned the company behind their shampoo, soda or restaurant meal.

This creates a serious challenge for marketers because misinformation cannot simply be dismissed once it changes purchasing behavior. Companies have to correct false claims without sounding as though they are avoiding legitimate questions, while activists also face the problem that inaccurate lists can weaken the credibility of evidence-based campaigns. The BDS movement itself stresses strategic targeting and documented research rather than attempting to boycott every company with any conceivable connection. In a media environment where a colorful infographic can travel faster than a corporate fact-check, accuracy becomes part of both activism and reputation management. 

Corporate Neutrality Became Much Harder to Maintain

For decades, large consumer brands generally preferred geopolitical neutrality because taking a position could alienate part of the customer base. The Gaza war demonstrated that saying little does not necessarily keep a company outside the dispute. Consumers increasingly interpret corporate actions, silence, donations, investments, franchise decisions, employee treatment and executive statements as political signals even when the company insists it has no political position. A brand can therefore become politically associated without intentionally designing a political brand strategy.

This does not mean that every company should issue a statement about every international crisis, because that would create a different and equally obvious form of performative communication. It means marketers need to understand that neutrality is no longer something an organization can unilaterally declare. Audiences decide whether behavior appears neutral, and different audiences may reach completely different conclusions. A corporate statement saying “we do not take sides” can coexist with consumers believing that the company's actual conduct tells a different story.

Then the Same Dynamic Reached the Concert Stage

By September 2026, the intersection between Palestinian solidarity, reputation and consumer behavior had moved well beyond packaged goods and restaurant chains. Macklemore was removed from the remaining U.S. dates of Ed Sheeran's Loop Tour after using his opening set at MetLife Stadium to voice support for Palestinians and say “Free Palestine.” Tour promoter Messina Touring Group said venue owners for forthcoming dates had informed promoters that they would not allow concerts with Macklemore on the lineup. Macklemore said he and Sheeran had held difficult conversations, while reporting from Reuters and other outlets made clear that venue pressure was a central factor rather than a simple story of one artist personally firing another. 

The controversy quickly became larger than Macklemore's removal because other opening acts withdrew from Sheeran's tour in solidarity. What began as a decision about one support performer became a reputational problem attached to the entire tour, illustrating exactly the same problem faced by multinational brands. A person or organization can become associated with a political decision even when responsibility is distributed among promoters, venues, partners and other stakeholders. The audience generally experiences one public-facing brand, and in this case that public-facing brand was Ed Sheeran's tour. Attempts to remain outside a political controversy do not always prevent the controversy from attaching itself to you. 

Macklemore Turned Removal Into His Own Product

What happened next is particularly interesting from a marketing perspective. Macklemore announced a Free Palestine Tour with initial dates in Dublin, Paris and London, and all three sold out immediately after tickets went on sale. Proceeds were directed toward Palestinian-related organizations and initiatives, while the tour itself converted the controversy into a clearly defined product for an audience that identified with his public position. The artist had lost access to one distribution platform and quickly created another around the exact issue that caused the conflict. That is not evidence that every artist taking a political stance will be commercially rewarded, but it is evidence that political positioning can deepen demand among a particular audience rather than merely reduce it. 

This is where the language of “bouncing back” is useful but incomplete. Macklemore did not simply recover the same market he had before; he transformed controversy into audience segmentation. People who disagreed with him may have become less likely to support him, while people who strongly identified with Palestinian solidarity had an additional reason to buy a ticket. A smaller but more committed audience can sometimes produce stronger commercial behavior than a larger audience with weak attachment. That principle is not unique to politics, but politics can make the emotional intensity unusually strong.

Ed Sheeran's Problem Was Different

The Ed Sheeran episode also demonstrates the risk faced by personalities whose brands depend on broad universal appeal. Sheeran has generally avoided making politics central to his public identity, which is commercially understandable for an artist with an enormous international audience. The Macklemore controversy nevertheless placed his tour inside a political story because audiences did not necessarily separate the promoter, venue owners, supporting acts and headline performer into distinct reputational entities. Some reporting later emphasized that Sheeran had attempted to mediate and that the removal was driven by external venue pressure, but the narrative had already become attached to his name.

That does not make it accurate to claim that Sheeran personally opposed Palestinian solidarity or personally ordered every decision surrounding Macklemore. It does show why brand reputation is partly uncontrollable once a controversy becomes public. The bigger the personal brand, the more likely decisions made throughout the surrounding commercial ecosystem will ultimately be interpreted through that person's name. Celebrity operates surprisingly like franchising in that respect: audiences see one recognizable identity while the actual business contains many separate decision-makers.

Brands Wanted Values Until Values Became Expensive

For years, corporate marketing embraced the language of values. Companies published purpose statements, celebrated social causes, talked about communities, built campaigns around inclusion, and insisted that consumers should choose brands whose principles reflected their own. Much of that communication emerged because research repeatedly suggested that younger consumers cared about corporate behavior beyond the product. The Gaza boycotts expose the difficult part of that strategy because consumers do not necessarily limit their expectations to the causes corporations find convenient or commercially safe.

A company cannot easily spend years telling customers that values matter and then insist values become irrelevant when the subject is politically difficult. At the same time, no multinational can plausibly satisfy every political expectation across every market in which it operates. The result is an increasingly complicated environment where companies have to decide not merely what they believe but which positions they can defend consistently through actual behavior. The marketing department can write the statement, but it cannot repair contradictions between the statement and everything else the company does.

Boycotts Are Most Powerful When Alternatives Are Easy

The commercial effectiveness of any boycott depends partly on substitution. Giving up something essential with no realistic replacement requires much more commitment than switching from one cola to another, one café to another, or one burger restaurant to another. This is one reason food, beverages and retail have become highly visible parts of Palestinian solidarity campaigns. The individual cost of participating can be extremely low.

That also explains why alternative-brand lists matter so much. Spiro Spathis, V7, Matrix Cola, Kinza, Shams, Jalloul, Zee Cola, Stories Coffee, Tafwela and countless independent restaurants do not all need to share one political philosophy in order to benefit from the same change in consumer behavior. Their strategic advantage is simply that they exist when the customer is motivated to switch. In some cases the brands actively embrace the opportunity, while in others management deliberately avoids political positioning even as sales increase. The consumer supplies the meaning whether the business asks for it or not.

The Biggest Threat Is Not the Boycott Day but the New Habit

Multinational companies can survive a bad quarter. Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Starbucks and McDonald's possess enormous financial resources, distribution networks, brand recognition, operational expertise and the ability to wait through periods of political pressure. The more serious question is what happens if customers spend several years building relationships with alternatives. A short boycott produces lost revenue, while a long boycott can produce changed habits.

TIME's reporting on the boycott movement captured this distinction through researchers who noted that sustained substitution gives competitors time to become normal. A customer who drinks another cola for a year may not automatically return when political attention changes, especially if the alternative is cheaper or has become socially familiar. A consumer who discovers a local café that they prefer does not need a political reason to continue going there. The boycott may start the trial, but ordinary marketing fundamentals decide what happens afterward. 

Local Brands Still Have to Earn the Second Purchase

This is where some commentary about boycotts becomes too romantic. A local brand does not automatically become good because consumers have a political reason to support it. Poor quality, weak distribution, inconsistent service, unattractive packaging, bad pricing or unreliable supply can eventually send customers back to the multinational they originally left. Political goodwill creates an opportunity, not permanent immunity from competition.

The businesses that benefit most will be those that treat the boycott as accelerated customer acquisition rather than guaranteed loyalty. Spiro Spathis still has to remain available, Stories still has to serve coffee people enjoy, Kinza needs consistent distribution, and a local burger restaurant still has to compete on food, convenience and service. If they do those things well, the political moment can permanently alter competitive structure. If they do them badly, the global brand merely waits.

Palestine Changed the Meaning of Brand Loyalty

This may ultimately be the most important marketing consequence of the past three years. Companies used to think of loyalty primarily as preference built through product experience, convenience, habit, advertising and emotional attachment. Palestinian solidarity campaigns demonstrated that loyalty can also be revoked because of something far removed from the product itself. A customer can still enjoy the coffee and decide not to buy it.

That breaks one of the comfortable assumptions behind traditional brand equity. Strong brand preference was supposed to protect companies from competitive products, minor price differences and ordinary mistakes. It offers much less protection when the consumer begins interpreting the purchase as inconsistent with their values. In that situation, the emotional associations marketers spent decades constructing can reverse direction surprisingly quickly.

The Logo Is No Longer Just a Logo

The politics of consumption are unlikely to disappear when the current news cycle eventually changes. Consumers have learned to investigate corporate ownership, franchise relationships, investments, political donations, supply chains and institutional partnerships in ways that used to interest mainly activists, journalists and analysts. Social media has made that information easier to distribute, while apps and websites increasingly help shoppers scan products or search for alternatives before buying. The expectation that companies can keep business behavior and brand image in completely separate compartments is becoming harder to sustain.

That does not mean every purchasing decision will become ideological. Price, convenience, quality and habit remain enormously powerful, and most consumers are inconsistent about applying their political principles across every transaction. Yet companies no longer need every customer to participate for the effect to matter. Losing a meaningful minority in strategically important markets can change growth rates, franchise economics, media narratives and competitive opportunities.

The Most Uncomfortable Marketing Lesson

For decades, marketers worked extremely hard to make brands culturally meaningful. They wanted customers to love logos, identify with companies, join communities, describe purchases as expressions of personality, and believe products represented something larger than their functional purpose. Palestinian consumer activism demonstrates what happens when audiences accept that invitation but insist on deciding for themselves what the brand means. The same emotional connection that creates extraordinary loyalty can also create extraordinary rejection.

That is why the boycott story is bigger than Coca-Cola, Starbucks, Pepsi, McDonald's, Ed Sheeran, Macklemore, or any single company or celebrity. It is about the transfer of power that occurs when consumers believe spending is one of the few direct actions available to them in response to events that otherwise feel impossibly distant and beyond their control. The purchase becomes a tiny expression of agency, while the alternative brand becomes a way of making that agency visible in everyday life. Marketers may disagree about how much effect any individual boycott ultimately has on geopolitics, but they can no longer reasonably argue that it has no effect on markets.

The final irony is that the marketing industry helped create the conditions for this to happen. Brands spent decades asking people to believe that what they bought said something about who they were, what they valued and which communities they belonged to. Palestinian solidarity movements took that logic seriously and applied it in reverse: if buying a brand says something about you, then refusing to buy it can say something too. That is the part companies cannot solve with a new slogan, a better TikTok strategy, or another purpose campaign. Once the meaning of the purchase changes, the marketing problem is no longer simply how to sell the product, but whether the customer still wants their money associated with the name printed on it.

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