On the one-year anniversary of the Oct. 7 Hamas attack on Israel, I reflect on a day that irrevocably changed my life and the lives of my loved ones. The heinous acts of terror perpetrated by Hamas desecrated the name of Islam and unleashed one of the most vile forms of hatred known to humankind: antisemitism.
The aftermath of the attacks shocked me. Friends and family initially expressed sympathy but quickly shifted to justifying the violence. Many questioned whether Israelis “deserved it” for “oppressing Palestinians for 70 years.” This response horrified me; no one deserves such brutality. Yet, as I listened to these justifications, I realized that much of the rhetoric I was hearing was shaped by misinformation and an unwillingness to acknowledge the complex realities of the conflict.
My journey into activism: Lessons from Jewish allies
Homes destroyed in the October 7 Hamas attack on the Kfar Aza kibbutz in southern Israel have yet to be rebuilt—or torn down. Instead, as seen on Jun 24, they are being preserved as a monument to those killed and kidnapped from the kibbutz.
Jason Fields
My activism began in the shadow of another tragedy—Sept. 11. As a public-school teacher in California, I was profiled at the airport because of my Pakistani origin, just one of the many caught in false database matches. At school, I witnessed Muslim girls being harassed, called “towel heads,” and blamed for the attacks.
In that difficult time, it wasn’t my Muslim colleagues who helped me navigate the rising tide of Islamophobia—it was my Jewish colleagues. They stood by me, offering guidance on how to channel my voice and raise awareness about the growing wave of anti-Muslim sentiment. With their support, I co-wrote a children’s book about a young Muslim girl asking her mother, “Am I a terrorist?” Together, we challenged the stereotypes that were tearing communities apart.
That period of my life planted the seeds of my deep commitment to interfaith activism. My father, a diplomat and journalist, always reminded me of the shared history between Jews and Muslims. He emphasized that the Muslim community thrives when it maintains good relations with Jews. Demonizing or dehumanizing the Jewish people only serves to harm us all.
The turning point: A stand for truth
As the violence in Israel and Gaza escalated, I found myself under increasing pressure from some in my community to take a public stand against Israel. I received phone calls urging me to support the Palestinian cause in light of Israel’s retaliatory attacks on Hamas. Yet, as horrifying images of Hamas’s brutality surfaced, I realized I couldn’t remain silent about the atrocities committed against innocent Israeli civilians. This was not a time for moral relativism or justifications.
While I am deeply saddened by the mounting deaths in Gaza, I know that Hamas bears responsibility for the suffering of the Palestinian people. Hamas has hijacked the future of Gaza’s 2 million residents, using them as political pawns. They knew that provoking Israel into all-out war would lead to countless deaths, deaths they could parade as trophies to the world. This, too, is a truth we must face.
I have long been a Democrat and a liberal American, deeply committed to justice and equality. These values inform my stance now. We cannot allow the complexities of the Israel-Palestine conflict to be flattened into a simple narrative of oppression and resistance. Hamas is a terrorist group; Israel is a legitimate nation-state with the right to defend itself. Yet, somehow, many in our own liberal circles have failed to see this distinction.
Facing backlash and standing firm
The price of my stance was steep. One by one, my board members resigned, distancing themselves from me and our organization. Cultural centers and mosques began to ostracize me, cutting off ties and leaving me isolated. When I was invited to speak at a March for Israel rally in November, I knew the consequences would be severe, but I could no longer stay silent.
The rally drew 275,000 Jewish individuals, and as I spoke to the crowd, I reaffirmed their belonging to our shared humanity. I returned from the rally with a sense of fulfillment, having spoken alongside distinguished Jewish leaders, only to face a wave of backlash the next day. My speech circulated widely on social media, leading to trolling and even death threats. Some questioned my allegiance; others accused me of being financially motivated. Even some of my own relatives turned against me. But I stood firm.
A call for justice and humanity
I know that standing for truth is not always popular. But it is necessary. I refuse to allow narratives of hate to cloud our understanding of coexistence. As a mother, I am deeply troubled that younger generations are being misled by propaganda that demonizes one side while erasing the complexities of this conflict.
As the late Elie Wiesel once said, “We cannot seek to be a part of a world that denies the humanity of some in order to preserve the humanity of others.” I stand by this conviction, even when it leaves me isolated. I am a Democrat. I am a liberal American. My values are rooted in justice, empathy, and the pursuit of peace. These values demand that we condemn terrorism, whether it is perpetrated by Hamas or any other group, and that we recognize the right of all people—Israelis and Palestinians alike—to live in peace and dignity.
In the face of hate, it is easy to remain silent. But silence, in moments like these, is complicity. I call on my fellow liberals to reject simplistic narratives, to challenge the dangerous rise of antisemitism, and to embrace the complexity of the Israel-Palestine conflict with both compassion and truth. Only then can we begin to forge a path toward lasting peace.
Anila Ali is president and CEO American Muslim and Multifaith Women’s Empowerment Council (AMMWEC).
The views expressed in this article are the writer’s own.
