Last week, New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani said his administration had reviewed whether New York City could execute the International Criminal Court’s arrest warrant for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. He concluded that the city does not have the legal authority to do so, called on the federal government to execute the warrant instead, and said Netanyahu was “not welcome in New York City.” Those remarks came as New York was already facing record levels of antisemitic incidents.
According to the Anti-Defamation League, the state recorded 1,160 antisemitic incidents in 2025, the highest number of any state, while physical assaults reached a record high. The recent stabbing of a Jewish man outside a synagogue during Tisha B’Av added to those concerns. Taken together, these events point to a troubling reality: Antisemitism is becoming increasingly visible in America’s largest city. Hatred rarely begins with violence. It grows through language, repetition, social hostility, and the gradual dehumanization of people.
I am an Emirati Muslim, and I am not writing about how America should govern itself. What I care about are the people. Over the years, I have met Americans from both political parties, as well as people who do not strongly identify with either side. I have found decent people who genuinely want what they believe is best for America, even when they disagree with one another. Disagreement is normal. Opinions, preferences, and even biases are part of any society. What is not normal is allowing those differences to become a reason to hate or dehumanize people who think differently.
As an Emirati, I believe my country offers one perspective worth sharing because we live in a region that has experienced the consequences of extremism firsthand. Those experiences shaped the choices we made as a society. In the United Arab Emirates, our laws and culture emphasize tolerance and coexistence because we have seen what extremism does to countries. The murder of Rabbi Zvi Kogan was a painful reminder that antisemitism is real. Emirati authorities acted quickly to investigate the crime, arrest those responsible, and make it clear that such hatred has no place in our country. Long before that attack, Sheikh Abdullah bin Zayed al Nahyan repeatedly emphasized that combating antisemitism and confronting hate are shared international responsibilities. In the UAE, protecting religious communities is not viewed as a political choice. It is part of protecting society itself.
Sometimes people promote extremism while sincerely believing they are fighting it. I often find discussions about extremism surprisingly shallow. People often choose one enemy while failing to recognize the forms of extremism much closer to their own beliefs. Social media has reinforced this pattern by allowing us to spend more time listening to people who already agree with us. My concern is not whether people criticize Israel or disagree with its government’s policies. My concern is when political leaders use rhetoric that they know cannot realistically be implemented. It may energize supporters, but it does not improve the lives of Palestinians, protect Jewish communities, or bring anyone closer to peace. It is much easier to make a political point than it is to make a meaningful difference.
Our experience also shaped the way we confronted terrorism. After the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, Zayed believed terrorist groups had hijacked Islam and distorted it for their own ideological purposes. He insisted that the UAE stand alongside the United States because remaining silent while extremists spoke in the name of our religion was never an option. We practice Islam, care deeply about our families and communities, build for the future while learning from the past and remain committed to confronting terrorism, especially when it claims to speak in the name of Islam.
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That experience also shaped the way I think about antisemitism. Discussions about antisemitism become complicated because of the way people understand Zionism. But Jewish identity is not for outsiders to define. For many Jews, Zionism is closely connected to their identity, history, or understanding of Jewish self-determination. Whether one agrees with those beliefs or not, no one has the right to dictate what Jews believe about their own identity. For that reason, I believe it is important to oppose every form of discrimination and hatred, including antisemitism.
This is not about the political Left or the political Right. History has repeatedly shown what happens when ideology is placed above people and when disagreement turns into dehumanization. The lesson I draw from my country’s experience is simple. A society is judged not by how it treats those with whom everyone agrees, but by how it protects those who become vulnerable when emotions are running high. If the UAE, a Muslim-majority country, can insist that antisemitism has no place within its borders, every democracy should be able to do the same. Leadership is measured not by slogans or symbolic promises, but by the willingness to prevent hatred from becoming normal before it becomes something much worse.
Mozah Alkindi is an Emirati writer and speaker with an interest in politics, philosophy, and literature. She serves as a board member of a Scout mission and is a member of the Social Media Pioneers Committee and the UAE Journalists Association.