By Daniel Rosen, President of the American Jewish Congress
Published originally in Newsweek.
Even in the aftermath of tragedy and division, history shows us something powerful: when Muslims and Jews stand together, everyone rises.
After the terror attacks of September 11, 2001, New York’s faith communities rallied together in a way many did not expect. Religious leaders—rabbis, imams, pastors—joined a press conference just days after the attacks to speak with one voice against hate and to affirm the shared values of freedom, dignity and respect for all people.
Today in New York City, those lessons feel as urgent as ever. It would be disingenuous not to acknowledge that some of Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s language to date has been troubling to many in the Jewish community and beyond. Those concerns deserve to be taken seriously, not brushed aside. But this moment also carries extraordinary responsibility and opportunity. The mayor is not just leading a city; he’s helping define a moment that could either deepen Jewish-Muslim trust or set it back. That’s why the words and actions of a leader matter—especially a leader who now carries the hopes of communities watching closely, in New York and far beyond.
Mamdani’s election galvanized many Muslim New Yorkers, who saw in his campaign a historic breakthrough and a source of pride. That success brings with it responsibility. The mayor now carries the hopes of a rising generation, and he must do right by them. Moments like these are not merely ceremonial; they carry real stakes. For a new generation watching closely—from local students to civic leaders across the Middle East—this moment will signal whether representation leads to reconciliation, or to retrenchment.
Over the past decade, interfaith programs in this city and across America have fostered meaningful Muslim‑Jewish cooperation: synagogues hosting mosque youth groups; Muslim congregations volunteering at Jewish holidays; and joint civic events that affirm our shared stake in civil rights, inclusion and justice.
These partnerships weren’t symbolic niceties. They were practical alliances rooted in shared experience—both communities have confronted discrimination, both have felt the sting of misunderstanding, and both have a deep investment in building a society where all can flourish.
We must remember something vital: Jewish and Muslim Americans have long stood shoulder to shoulder in defense of civil rights and equal treatment under the law. After 9/11, Muslim communities endured waves of scrutiny and even harassment. Jewish leaders and institutions did not stand idly by—rabbis, congregations and Jewish civil rights groups joined Muslim neighbors in protests, legal actions and public declarations against Islamophobia.
Interfaith councils and coalitions have worked for years to coordinate strategies against both antisemitism and anti‑Muslim bigotry and to protect the rights of religious minorities in the United States.
In moments of crisis abroad, the effects of such partnership resonate even further. Across the Middle East and North Africa, there are Muslim societies increasingly interested in forging new patterns of Jewish‑Muslim coexistence: from Morocco’s historic Jewish communities to dialogues among religious leaders advocating peace. Jewish humanitarian groups have long mobilized to support Muslim communities in crisis. During the Rohingya refugee emergency, Jewish organizations including American Jewish World Service, IsraAID and World Jewish Relief launched coordinated aid efforts for displaced Muslims in Bangladesh and Myanmar. And in the wake of the catastrophic 2005 earthquake in Pakistan, U.S. Jewish groups—including the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, the World Jewish Congressand the American Jewish Congress—raised funds and delivered relief to the millions affected across the region.
Here at home, the work is unfinished. The October 7 terror attack, the Gaza war and its reverberations here in the United States have strained relationships, challenged conversations and sometimes warped public discourse. But that is precisely why we must renew our commitment to cooperation.
Young Muslim and Jewish Americans deserve a legacy of partnership, not polarization. They deserve leaders who understand that the fight for civil rights here at home and the pursuit of peace abroad are not mutually exclusive. They are deeply interconnected.
Leaders who emphasize shared values—justice, compassion, dignity—strengthen the bonds that protect us all. Leaders who allow division to take root risk undoing decades of progress.
That’s why, if Mayor Mamdani governs with a unifying vision for all New Yorkers, his term can become a turning point—one that reinforces the Jewish-Muslim partnership in New York and beyond. It can even help in the Middle East, at a time when Arab and Muslim nations are pursuing partnership and peace with Israel. A credible Muslim-Jewish partnership model led by Mayor Mamdani can strengthen that momentum and show that coexistence and mutual respect are shared American and Middle Eastern values. His leadership can enrich a legacy of solidarity between our communities, one that young Muslim and Jewish Americans will inherit.
So let us stand together, not apart. Let us reaffirm that Jewish‑Muslim alliances are not just possible, but essential. And let those alliances be a model not just for New York City, but for the world at large.
