Mo, Netflix’s groundbreaking series inspired by comedian Mohammed Amer’s life, broke new ground in how Palestinian stories are told on screen. With its blend of humor, heart, and unflinching authenticity, season 2 captured a cultural moment and challenged decades of erasure and stereotype. Yet as Netflix ends the show after just two seasons, the question remains: what happens now to Palestinian narratives in mainstream media?
The long history of erasure and misrepresentation
For decades, Palestinian and Muslim representation on television and film has been scarce, superficial, or steeped in harmful stereotypes. Often shown only through the lens of conflict, Palestinians appeared as faceless victims or one-dimensional villains, while Muslims were largely invisible or reduced to narrow tropes. A 2018–2019 USC Annenberg study found that Muslims, who represent about a quarter of the world’s population, accounted for just 1% of speaking roles in top TV series across the U.S., U.K., Australia, and New Zealand.
Even when Muslim characters appeared in shows like Bodyguard or Homeland, their complexity was often sidelined for sensationalized narratives that failed to engage with authentic histories or diverse lived experiences—particularly those of Palestinians, Muslim or not. This systemic marginalization created a cultural void that Mo was uniquely poised to fill.
Mo: A groundbreaking portrayal of palestinian life
Mo debuted in 2022 as a refreshing, authentic voice inspired by Mohammed Amer’s real life. Co-created with Ramy Youssef, Amer not only starred but also directed key episodes, bringing to life the story of Mo Najjar, a Palestinian refugee living in Houston. From the first scene, Mo distinguished itself as unapologetically Palestinian in humor, heart, and defiance.
Season 2, lauded with a rare 100% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes and reaching number three on Netflix’s top 100 shows, deepened its exploration of asylum limbo, intergenerational trauma, and exile. With its blend of hustle and heartbreak, Mo’s journey culminates in a deeply personal return to Palestine—a homeland he has never truly known. Yet, despite critical acclaim and cultural impact, Netflix announced season 2 would be the final chapter, leaving fans and creators yearning for more.
Cultural specificity as resistance
Authenticity in the media is often promised but rarely delivered. Mo goes beyond authenticity by embracing the rich, lived-in details of Palestinian culture without explaining or justifying them. From the casual mention of tarneeb cards and bottles of olive oil to scenes featuring traditional foods like zeit wa za’atar and bamia, these details are far more than mere set dressing—they anchor identity and resistance through exile.
As someone married into a Palestinian family, I witnessed firsthand the emotional weight these moments carry. Scenes that might seem mundane to outsiders moved my wife to tears because they reflected a life rarely seen on screen. Palestinian mothers, like Mo’s own, remain glued to the news—caught between despair and hope, connection and helplessness. This rare, unfiltered visibility is an act of reclamation, dismantling harmful stereotypes and proving that true authenticity is a radical form of rebellion.
When the personal is political
The political realities surrounding Palestine inevitably shape Mo. Amer considered directly addressing the October 2023 conflict in season 2, but found the tone became didactic and detracted from the show’s essence. Instead, Palestine exists as a constant, subtle presence—a “steady thrum” behind the characters’ lives, embodying sorrow, hope, and everyday humor.
Yet the show’s production itself underscores the inescapable politics: Amer was unable to film in Palestine, remaining just 45 minutes away in Jordan due to safety concerns. Palestinian stories continue to face hurdles in the entertainment industry, where financiers often label them “untrendy.” High-profile advocates like Bella Hadid and Melissa Barrera have faced backlash for supporting Palestine, illustrating how political expression can come with professional risks.
A universal story of resilience and belonging
More than a cultural or personal narrative, Mo situates the Palestinian struggle within a larger story of displacement and colonialism. The show draws parallels between Mo’s statelessness and the experiences of undocumented immigrants, Mexican border communities, and Indigenous peoples in the Americas. Moments like the portrayal of Thanksgiving offer subtle critiques of historical injustice and ongoing occupation.
In doing so, Mo delivers a powerful message about dignity, land, and belonging that resonates far beyond any single community. It reminds us that the fight against erasure and borders is a universal human struggle—one that calls for empathy, understanding, and most importantly, the courage to keep telling these stories.
Demanding stories that matter
The end of Mo on Netflix leaves a profound void in mainstream media—a rare triumph of honest Palestinian storytelling brought to life with humor and heart. But its legacy challenges us all: existence itself is a form of resistance. Now, it is up to audiences, creators, and industry leaders alike to ensure that authentic Palestinian narratives are not only remembered but actively demanded, nurtured, and celebrated. Because if Mo has taught us anything, it’s that these stories matter—and they must continue.
