Dear Mustafa:

I was so grateful to run into you last week at LibCon2025, because it has been over nine months since we last spoke about the need for greater Muslim/​Jewish dialogue in America. At that point, Oct. 7 and the horrendous warfare in Israel/​Palestine was just over a year old. Now we approach two years, and in that time the strong bonds between Muslim and Jewish institutions and leaders in America have entered the Ice Age. Previously warm relations have frozen over into tense silences or complete avoidance. This is bad on so many levels, and I hope that our chance meeting last week can help us find a way forward. Perhaps with the discipline of writing we can, through an email exchange, illuminate the obstacles our communities face and find ways to overcome them.

Before we get into the heart of the matter, I want to lay my cards on the table. I have three reasons for this work:

First, the estrangement between our communities is personally painful. As you may recall, my congregation has been in conversation with a large local masjid for over two decades. We host one of their satellite locations for Friday prayers every week, and during every night of Ramadan. After Oct. 7, I exchanged messages with their spiritual leader, Imam Mohamed Magid, recommitting to our relationship and addressing the reality that we have avoided open conversation about Israel/​Palestine for way too long. I expressed that, after a reasonable amount of time to heal, we must correct that avoidance. I think that time is now.

Second, our estrangement is extremely bad for American democracy. Jews have long played the role of religious outsider for America. Muslims more recently stepped into that role as Jews became more accepted, and 9/11 acted as kerosene for Islamophobia. But American religious freedom depends upon openness, respect, trust, and a belief that universal human dignity includes diverse ways of faith. If we cannot speak honestly to each other, then how can we speak honestly in multi-faith environments in general? How can we model the moral bonds that hold a diverse citizenry in healthy tension if we choose silence over speech?

Third, our estrangement is extremely bad for Israelis and Palestinians living in the warzone right now. While a complete exploration of the connection between diaspora and indigenous communities is beyond the scope of this conversation, I have seen the ways that American Jews and Muslims model and inspire hope for those living in the Promised Land. The entire culture there is saturated with mistrust, cynicism, despair, and outright fear of “the other.” Given the safety, security, history, and civil structure we enjoy here in American democracy, we have an obligation to at least try to bring some of our light to the darkness over there.

I suppose I have a fourth reason: for too long, we have allowed the public discourse around Israel/​Palestine to be dominated by extremists on both sides here in America. Both partisan Zionists and anti-Zionists have distorted perceptions of the reality of the conflict due, in large part, to political objectives over here. Enough!

So, we must do something. When I asked your thoughts on how to thaw the relationship, your immediate reaction was to say, “We must start with empathy.” I think that is right, but I want to hear more from you on that. So, why empathy?

L’shalom,

Michael

Dear Michael:

Thanks so much for reminding me of our recent conversation at LibCon2025, and for following up with these thoughtful observations. I, too, believe in the need for greater Muslim/​Jewish dialogue in America—and even beyond. And I, too, painfully observe the extremely difficult moment in which we find ourselves.

It is extremely difficult, first and foremost, because we have been witnessing the intense suffering of people whom we feel deeply connected to. For many Jews, the latest and darkest chapter of this century-old tragedy began on Oct. 7, when a terrorist attack on Israel killed hundreds of innocent civilians and took many others as hostages. For many Muslims, it began soon after, when the Israeli response began to devastate the Gaza Strip, killing not just Hamas militants but also thousands of innocent civilians and causing the displacement, agony, and starvation of over two million people, half of them children. People on both sides have been painfully observing all this horror, often only focusing on their own side, and thinking, “This is what they are doing to us.” The result is entrenchment against “them,” denial of their suffering, and delegitimization of their story. It has even led some people—unbelievably—to declare that there are no innocents on the other side.

That is why I believe empathy at this moment is essential. That means seeing the other side not as evil enemies to be crushed, but fellow human beings caught on the opposite side of a tragic conflict. That means realizing that their own suffering is the main reason behind their stance against you. That means understanding that they have some hopeless fanatics on their side—but just as you have yours on your side. That also means deeply feeling that all children are equally innocent, and all their lives are equally sacred, whether they are from Kibbutz Be’eri or from Gaza.

Now, fanatics on both sides hate such empathy. They condemn it as weakness, if not treason. They see it as a hindrance to their war propaganda, and an obstacle to their ultimate victory. But we should all push back, because nothing good can come out of their militancy. Even if our side really wins the “ultimate victory,” it will leave us with a crushing moral burden that will haunt us for generations. We will realize that, without empathy, little has remained of our own humanity.

I hope this is a helpful start from my side, and I would love to hear your thoughts.

All best,

Mustafa

Dear Mustafa:

Thank you for your wise words. This is a helpful framing. We are talking about the tension between a universal belief in human dignity (which would inspire empathy for all people who are suffering), and the natural instinct to circle the wagons, fear the enemy, and restrict empathy to one’s own side. I am with you: all warfare is revolting, and the suffering of war should trigger empathy in all of us. However, as you accurately describe, Muslims and Jews are so deeply traumatized by the violence, suffering, devastation, and degradation we are seeing in Gaza, and by the barbarity we saw on 10/7 and still see in these cruel hostage videos, that we are pushed to limit our empathy only to our side.

Universal empathy competes, within each of us, with tribal empathy.

In the middle of ongoing warfare, a path forward is extremely difficult to find. Attempts to bring our communities to universal empathy, to the belief in the universal dignity of all humans, and especially to the unquestionable right of safety for children, is constantly countered by exposure to the other side’s acts of violence, or