I drove through the rain into a full parking lot on Mercer Island, a wealthy enclave located a short drive from the metropolis of Seattle. I was there to attend a fundraising event hosted by the REACH Education Fund (REF), a tobnonprofit headquartered in Worth, Illinois. Once inside the Mercer Island Community and Event Center, I saw REF founder Walid Mizyed mingling with attendees while volunteers directed guests to their seats and handed out small bags of Arabic sweets as children darted between adults. The air smelled of shawarma and perfume. In the bathroom, young women adjusted their hijabs and makeup, preparing for their moments on stage.
The underlying agenda was hostile to American values.
REF’s Ties to Hamas
So far, everything fit in with REF’s portrayal as a humanitarian organization established to offer university scholarships to Palestinian students in need. But as the January 31, 2025, event progressed, I discerned a well-orchestrated effort to use anti-Israel sentiment as a tool to foster unity within the local Muslim community and extend solidarity efforts to progressive allies. It wasn’t just a charity event—it was a convergence of religious devotion, political activism, and social outreach, designed to build a broader coalition around a common cause of anti-Israel activism. While REF claims to focus on education and humanitarian aid, its leadership, affiliations, and fundraising practices reveal deeper connections to a Hamas-aligned fundraising network within the United States.
As Sam Westrop, director of the Middle East Forum’s Islamist Watch Project, reported in 2023, Baitulmaal, a Texas charity which funds Hamas proxies, has pledged $250,000 to REF. Moreover, REF officials have expressed open support for Hamas and violent antisemitism. Westrop reports that REF’s Palestine Director, Ahmed Gebreel, once “posted a picture of a swastika, and referred to himself as a follower of Hitler, cheerfully noting the Nazis had wiped out millions of ‘impure’ Jews.”
Westrop adds that REF’s then-chairman, Ayyad Yassin, “has posted ‘congratulations to all our people in Gaza’ following the Hamas’s (sic) killing of Israeli soldiers, as well as praise for a terrorist attack by Hamas’s Qassam Brigades. Many of REF’s scholars and staff are affiliated with the Islamic University of Gaza, a Hamas-founded institution that Israel has identified as a key training hub for Hamas operatives, Westrop reports.
In a subsequent interview with Focus on Western Islamism’s managing editor, Mizyed asserted that MEF’s previous reporting on REF was “baseless propaganda” and that the organization he leads is a humanitarian, educational foundation. “The Reach Education Fund is a non-political, non-religious organization” that provides educational and humanitarian assistance to underprivileged young people in Gaza regardless of their religious background, he said. Characterizing MEF’s previous reporting on REF as “baseless propaganda,” he acknowledged that Gebreel’s social media postings were “ugly” but that REF activists will abide by whatever peace treaty is ultimately agreed upon between the Palestinians and Israel even as “We all talk about proudly of ‘liberation of Jerusalem’” and believe they “have a right to Palestine.” In response to former REF chairman Ayyad Yassin’s posts congratulating Palestinians for the death of Israeli soldiers, Mizyed declared that Yassin is no longer with the organization. “He was our chairman,” Mizyed said. “He’s not with us anymore.”
Recruiting Progressives to the Cause
REF’s support for the Palestinian cause was on display in the foyer to the banquet hall where, at one table, SCM Medical Missions, a Seattle-based non-profit, solicited donations for medical aid in Gaza by selling keffiyehs and children’s books. At another table, activists from the Palestinian Youth Movement (PYM), notorious for organizing disruptive protests blocking highways and airports, sold posters and tote bags adorned with classic Palestinian resistance imagery. Clearly these people were committed to excluding companies that did business with Israel—there wasn’t a Pepsi or Coca-Cola in sight, only cans of Shasta soda.
Jewish Voice for Peace and other Attendees
The attendees were predominantly Arab and Muslim, with most women wearing the hijab, but a small sample of progressive allies were also present. One speaker lauded the presence of Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP) at the event, apparently referring to Alice Rothchild, a retired OBGYN who serves on JVP’s Health Advisory Council and who has written numerous books harshly critical of Israel. The presence of JVP, criticized for allegedly supporting convicted terrorist operatives and for blaming Israel for the October 7 attack, indicated that REF had garnered substantial support for its event.
Talking with attendees, I learned that one couple was not from the community but had been invited by a friend. A young Muslim couple discovered the event through REF’s social media. Another man learned about it from his daughter, a University of Washington student. Another young Muslim woman admitted she didn’t know what the event was about—she was only there because her family had brought her.
An older white couple who caught my attention were none other than Cindy and Craig Corrie, the parents of Rachel Corrie—the American International Solidarity Movement activist who was killed in Gaza in 2003 while protesting home demolitions. Speakers would acknowledge them, saying, “We have the Corries here. Rest in power, Rachel Corrie!” The Corries, who had reportedly driven over an hour and a half to attend the event, nodded in appreciation as they made conversation with other attendees at their front-row table.
Flexing Political Muscle
The program began with a call to prayer, followed by a du’a (supplication) from Imam Akram Baioumy of the Muslim Association of Puget Sound (MAPS) Seattle.
After focusing on the suffering of women and children in Gaza, Baioumy made an oblique, but unmistakable attack on Israel, calling for the “humiliation” of oppressors and invoking powerful religious imagery to tie the community’s faith to its political stance. He prayed that if such oppressors continued to break their covenants, they should ultimately meet the same fate as the Gazans. One statement stood out clearly: “May the Azan (call to prayer) ring from all the minarets of Al-Quds (Jerusalem).”
Rami Al-Kabra, Deputy Mayor of Bothell and founder of Seattle’s first CAIR chapter, took the stage next. Wearing a t-shirt that read “Gaza – Soul of My Soul,” he exemplified the blending of political activism and personal faith, stating that this shirt was his uniform even while conducting government business. His speech wasn’t just about Gaza—it was about mobilizing local power.
He bragged about Bothell being one of the first cities to call for a ceasefire, his advocacy with WA democratic senators Maria Cantwell and Patty Murray, and praised the international students facing the threat of deportation under President Trump for disruptive campus protests. He called for the release of all hostages— “both Israeli and Palestinian”—emphasizing the importance of referring to them both as such. During his talk, Al-Kabra—who did not respond to a journalistic query from Focus on Western Islamism (FWI) despite repeated attempts to procure a response for this article—offered a nod to local progressive Jews thanking them for their efforts to combat a “genocide” from taking place in Gaza. In doing so, he masked a serious and false accusation within what appeared to be a gesture of gratitude, maintaining a veneer of inclusivity.
The heart of the event was in the personal stories designed to humanize the cause and elicit solidarity. REF founder Mizyed took the stage and told the crowd he was brought to Palestine when he was five because his parents wanted him to be part of the culture and “part of the cause.” He said after living there illegally for eleven years, he returned to the U.S. and went to college. When a friend from Palestine came to visit he realized his friend would never have the same opportunity to pursue higher education. Thus, he claims REF was born.
Anti-Israel Paranoia Displayed
Then Imam Akram returned to the microphone to draw a parallel between Prophet Muhammad’s Medina migration and modern Gaza. He said that Gaza had demonstrated spiritual wealth to the world, “true reliance on Allah,” and what it means to fully embrace “la ilaha illallah” (There is no God but Allah).
Ghada, a young woman from Gaza and REF scholarship recipient, shared her survival story from the “2008 genocide and the 2012 genocide”—hyperbolic and inflammatory references to Israel-Hamas fighting—as well as her struggles during the 2018 earthquake. Her speech wasn’t just about personal hardship—it was a call for empathy, unity, and action, with a bit of anti-Israel demonization thrown in.
As a student, she said she applied to REF, providing them with all her personal information, but didn’t hear back for some time. She started to worry, recounting the experience she said, “Oh my God, did I just give all my information to Mossad?” When she said this, I laughed out loud—probably too hard—thinking it was meant as a joke. A few others softly chuckled as well, but I immediately got the instinctual feeling that it wasn’t entirely meant to be funny and perhaps she really believed that the Israelis were spying on her. She explained that a few days later she finally received confirmation from REF that she had been awarded the “life-changing” scholarship.
As people spoke, expertly produced videos highlighting REF’s work in Gaza, including footage of schools it funded were projected on to the wall behind the stage.
Rock Star Entrance
When the event broke for dinner, keynote speakers Dr. Omar Al-Thawini and Dr. Mohamed Al-Kandari of Kuwait, who have a combined Instagram audience of over 2 million followers, entered the room like rock stars. Attendees queued to take selfies with them while others got in line for dinner. After dinner was served, the keynote began. Translation headsets were provided for attendees who needed them, as the Kuwaiti speakers presented in Arabic. Sadly, the translation quality was inconsistent.
The doctors recounted their on-the-ground and fundraising experiences in Gaza throughout the three trips they conducted over the past year and a half. They said that by October 10, 2023—three days after the massacre—they had raised $10 million for Gaza and sent 55 planes of aid before shifting their operations to Jordan when the borders to Gaza were closed. Once inside Gaza, they stated that they were treated “like celebrities.” They told the crowd they had collected several million dollars’ worth of donations during the last 10 days of Ramadan in 2024.
When asked why they were so committed to Gaza, they explained that Kuwait has a deep bond with the Palestinians because they are “our teachers, our engineers,” and contribute to Kuwaiti society. Their commitment was summed up in what they told the Gazans, “If you die, we will die with you.”
They also spoke about the incredible generosity of the Gazan people emphasizing that Gazans would “never ask for help in any way that would take from another person.” Illustrating this, they shared an anecdote about how this was the only trip where they had actually gained weight, despite being in a war zone. When asked how that was possible, they explained that it was because the Gazans were so hospitable and generous that they always insisted that their guests were well-fed.
They played another high-production video showcasing the work of the two doctors in Gaza, depicting them walking through devastated areas and comforting the elderly. The video shifted to more graphic content and the injuries shown were so intense that several women began to cry. The video also showed aid trucks displayed the logo of Rahma Worldwide, the Michigan-based charity accused of collaborating with organizations tied to Hamas and Al-Qaeda, including Kuwait’s RIHS, which the U.S. designated as a terrorist entity in 2008.
Fundraising Begins
The event then transitioned into a fundraising segment in which a local attendee began rallying the crowd, promising great generosity from Seattle. He started calling out donation amounts “Can I get $20,000? $20,000 to help rebuild Gaza! This is important—who will give $20,000?” When a table would raise their hand, he would respond with “MashaAllah! May Allah bless you! May Allah bless you!”
He continued his chants, working down to smaller contribution amounts. He appealed to their commitment to the BDS movement, “Who here has been boycotting? If you’ve been boycotting, you’ve been saving money. Now is the time to take that money and give it back—this money that you donate will feel better than any money you could ever spend on yourself.” At one point, he referenced a Hadith, paraphrasing its message: “Every dollar, every gift, serves as a shield against the hellfire. Please, please give,” he said, emphasizing the spiritual reward of charitable giving.
The fundraising goal for the night was $300,000, and the room itself wasn’t that large. From a rough count of the tables, there were about 150 seats, and based on crowd size, there were around 200 attendees, likely more. Still, by the time I left, they had reached $257,000, and that was only from people who publicly raised their hands to pledge. I noticed Cindy Corrie, seated at a table of honor, handing a donation pledge slip to a volunteer.
As I left the building, I reflected on my experience. In many ways, it felt like a typical charity event, and I felt completely safe there. But the underlying agenda was hostile to American values. The explicit themes of martyrdom, religious obligation, the talk of “humiliating the oppressors,” the constant delegitimization of Israel, and the presence of groups like JVP and PYM was troubling, but it’s a familiar pattern within the Islamist anti-Israel movement in the U.S. The event never once differentiated between Palestinian civilian suffering and Hamas’s role in the war, instead presenting Gaza’s plight as a one-sided act of aggression.
The mask came off, however, when Bothell Deputy Mayor Al-Kabra bragged of using his political position to advance this cause. It was unsettling not just because of his alignment with hostile narratives overtly biased against Israel, but because it revealed how deeply these sentiments had permeated local governance. Hearing an elected official openly boast about using his public office to push what many consider extreme rhetoric at an event for a Hamas-aligned charity demonstrated that his activism had infiltrated political decision-making.
As I walked out of the venue, this thought lingered as I walked through groups of families wrangling their kids. It struck me how this event wasn’t just about fundraising—it was about shaping narratives and identities, passing them on to the next generation. Events like these aren’t simply charitable gatherings—they’re orchestrated efforts to reinforce a worldview inimical to Western democracies.