u. s. senate

DEARBORN, Mich. — Campaigning relentlessly across Michigan, Abdul El-Sayed didn’t highlight the possibility that he could become the first Muslim elected to the U.S. Senate. But with victory in hand, he savored his triumph over the vitriol aimed at him and his fellow Muslim Americans.

“They tried to demonize people because of how they pray,” he told the Associated Press on Wednesday. “And Michigan — the whole Michigan — clapped back. People don’t want that. They’re sick of it.”

He showed his pride in his victory speech, declaring: “My name is Abdulrahman Mohamed El-Sayed.”

Twenty-five years after the Sept. 11 attacks and their aftermath yanked anti-Muslim sentiment into the forefront of American life, those emotions are shared by many Muslim Americans in Michigan and across the country.

They saw a surge of anti-Muslim rhetoric after Zohran Mamdani’s election as New York City mayor a year ago, and they saw the attacks intensify as El-Sayed became the new prime target. President Trump called him a “jihadist” who was “on the side of the terrorists.” Dozens of Trump’s fellow Republicans in Congress formed a Sharia-Free America Caucus, depicting Islam’s religious code as a threat to the U.S. Constitution.

But now, after El-Sayed’s defeat of GOP rival Mike Rogers was confirmed early Wednesday, there is a pervasive sense that a broader victory is at hand.

The outcome “represents a historic turning point for American Muslim political engagement and a historic defeat for the politics of hate,” said Nihad Awad, national executive director of the Council on American-Islamic Relations.

“Anti-Muslim extremists, Israel lobby groups and even the president of the United States used every smear in the book to paint Dr. El-Sayed as a Muslim bogeyman,” he said. “None of it was true, and none of it worked. Anti-Muslim hate was on the ballot, and it failed.”

In Dearborn, talk of ‘a beautifully American story’

Excitement over El-Sayed’s victory was palpable in Dearborn, a city near Detroit with a sizable Arab American population. The mayor, Abdullah Hammoud, said residents showed up at the ballot box in huge numbers.

“What a beautifully American story,” Hammoud said. “One of our brightest and best earned the support of the majority of Michiganders who participated in yesterday’s election. And regardless of the direction in which he prays, they’re sending him to the U.S. Senate.”

Hammoud, who has known El-Sayed for more than a decade, said although his win was important for many Arab Americans, people voted for him because of his platform, not his identity. He cited support in Dearborn for independent Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders’ 2016 presidential campaign. Sanders, who is Jewish and caucuses with Democrats, ran on a progressive platform.

In El-Sayed, residents of Dearborn “finally saw themselves and a candidate who appealed to them, but it had to do with far more than just his ethnicity or his religion,” Hammoud said. “It was honestly because of the policies and building a coalition with this community in an honest way.”

When Zaynah Jadallah, 26, canvassed for El-Sayed in Dearborn, she said most people told her they already planned on voting for him before inviting her in for water or food. She credited the name recognition to El-Sayed’s grassroots campaigning and his pride in his Egyptian heritage.

“He’s always been proud of his identity. He never shied away from it or from saying his name,” Jadallah said.

Yasmin El-Sayed, no relation to the senator-elect, took her two daughters to the Detroit watch party from New York. She teared up after the victory speech.

“Having grown up in a post-9/11 world, being Muslim, being Arab myself, never in a million years did I think we would see what we saw today,” she said.

In a time of suspicion of government, a message of representation

El-Sayed depicted his election as a victory for all those “who don’t see themselves reflected in our government or who’ve been told that they don’t belong for some reason or another — not just how they pray but who they love, how they identify, the color of their skin, where they grew up.″

“I didn’t run to be the first Muslim senator. I ran to be the next senator of the state of Michigan who happens to be Muslim,” he said. ″But I also know that democracy is constantly about the conversation about who we are, who we want to be.”

“Michigan proved just how big we are. Rejected a hateful, spiteful campaign that had nothing to say about the issues and only wanted to point to my name and my face,” he added. ″I want all of those folks out there who have been told that America’s not big enough for them to reflect on that. America really is big enough for all of us.”

Mohamed Gula, CEO of the Muslim American advocacy group Emgage Action, said he was elated by El-Sayed’s triumph after a year of “extremely Islamophobic and disgusting rhetoric being used as a campaign strategy.”

“For Abdul to come out last night and use his full name meant the world to someone who grew up in post-9/11 America, where the Muslim American community was seen through a national security lens,” Gula said.

“Our children, years from now, will be able to run for office,” he said, “to be seen as who they are.”

A debate over the place of sharia law — and its very definition

Among the most frequent targets of anti-Muslim rhetoric was sharia, the religious code that provides Muslims with guidance on how to lead righteous lives. At the Republicans’ midterm convention in Dallas, some of the loudest cheers came after GOP Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas declared: “Sharia law has no place in America.”

Muslim American civic leaders and scholars — in Texas and other states — responded forcefully to the anti-sharia rhetoric that dates back more than 15 years.

They passionately defended sharia — the way it’s practiced in the United States — as positive guidance that shares elements with the codes of other faiths, such as the Ten Commandments and the collective body of Jewish law derived from the Torah. They rebutted the claims of GOP critics that sharia is a coercive code that threatens the Constitution and the judicial system.

Gula noted that Republican Texas Gov. Greg Abbott and Atty. Gen. Ken Paxton were among the leaders of the anti-sharia campaign. Abbott lost his bid for reelection in Tuesday’s voting, and Paxton was trounced by Democrat James Talarico in the race for a U.S. Senate seat.

“I saw this as not just Muslims standing against Islamophobia as never before,” Gula said. “I saw Americans saying hate will not be used as a campaign issue … we are not going to accept hate.”

Asma Uddin, a professor at Michigan State University’s College of Law, has argued that many American politicians are depicting ordinary Muslim religious practices — such as prayer, choice of apparel, family counseling and mosque attendance — as evidence of political danger.

“What I find especially exciting is that El-Sayed won in a political climate where being visibly Muslim can still be a liability,” she said. His victory “gives us real reason for optimism. It suggests that anti-Muslim attacks don’t necessarily carry the political weight that those deploying them assume they do.”

GaNun, Cappelletti and Crary write for the Associated Press. Cappelletti reported from Washington and Crary from New York.

Michigan’s Democratic candidate for the U.S. Senate, Abdul El-Sayed, is many things to many people.

He represents change, part of a new generation of outspoken leaders who aren’t afraid to challenge the status quo.

He represents possibility: As the son of Egyptian immigrants, his trajectory is the American dream realized.

And he represents a threat to those who fear that his Muslim faith means he can’t possibly love America. El-Sayed is a handy bogeyman for Republican politicians who seek to scare their constituents into voting for them instead of the foreboding Arab name on the ballot.

But for people like me — American Muslims, or anyone with roots in the Middle East, North Africa, South Asia or other Muslim-majority regions — El-Sayed embodies the exhausting experience of having to explain yourself over, and over, and over …

We know what’s truly going on when someone discovers our lineage, then apropos of nothing asks, “How do you feel about the Oct. 7 Hamas attack?” In previous eras it was, “What are your thoughts about 9/11? The Iranian hostage crisis? The PLO?”

Regardless of the decade, the underlying question was the same: How American are you, really?

For generations, the insinuation has been that your loyalty lies somewhere else and that you have a predisposed soft spot for groups such as ISIS or Al Qaeda. Beneath that Taylor Swift-loving exterior, there must be a Bin Laden fighting to get out.

It was disappointing but hardly surprising when El-Sayed was asked at a recent town hall in Caro, Mich., if he would “disavow the Muslim Brotherhood.”

The questioner, who identified himself only as Tommy, was referring to a century-old Islamist movement with branches that have been designated as terrorist organizations by various countries and U.S. administrations.

It’s worth noting that El-Sayed was born and raised in Detroit, not Egypt or Jordan. He attended the University of Michigan medical school, not a radical madrassa, and received a Rhodes Scholarship to Oriel College, Oxford, where he completed a doctor of philosophy in public health (not bomb making).

El-Sayed answered the question without hesitation. “Sure, yeah, absolutely,” he said, then swiftly turned the tables and began interrogating the motives of his interrogator.

“You’re asking the question because implicitly, you assume that I’ll have dual loyalties, right?” El-Sayed said. “You assume that I wouldn’t disavow, or that I’ll have some higher order allegiance than to the Constitution, correct? Tommy, is that what you imply?”

The candidate spent four to five minutes laying bare the political motives behind what was clearly designed to be a “gotcha” moment.

His opponent in next month’s election, former Rep. Mike Rogers, has claimed without evidence that the Muslim Brotherhood funds El-Sayed’s campaign and that his family members have terrorist links. The attacks are on brand with a wider Republican strategy around sinking El-Sayed. Fearing a blue tsunami might flip the crucial swing state, Rogers and his allies have leaned heavily into Islamophobic attacks against the progressive Democrat.

It’s a campaign tactic endorsed at the highest levels. President Trump has referred to El-Sayed as a “radical jihadist” and claimed he is associated with the Muslim Brotherhood, mispronounced his name, infused it with nonsensical babble and called him “Muhammad Al-Fayad.” Trump has defended his racism by stating: “I’m the president. I can call him whatever the hell I want.”

El-Sayed preferred to talk about another president while addressing Tommy’s question at the town hall. He recalled that John F. Kennedy faced similar scrutiny during his 1960 presidential campaign when asked whether his Catholic faith would make him loyal to the pope and Vatican rather than the U.S.

“His answer, famously, was that he was not running to be a Catholic president,” El-Sayed said. “He was running to be president that happened to be Catholic. I’m not running to be a Muslim senator. I’m running for the U.S. Senate and happen to be Muslim.”

The standoff between El-Sayed and Tommy (who has since been outed as Thomas Teepell, the son of a Republican strategist and a former staffer to Republican Sen. Josh Hawley) has gone viral and is now being referred to as a 2026 election Rorschach test because both the right and left believe they prevailed.

It’s unclear to me how anyone might see El-Sayed’s evisceration of Teepell’s means-to-an-end question as a victory for the right. Perhaps it comes from eight years of watching Barack Obama weather insidious and overt racist attacks with the patience of a Shaolin monk. El-Sayed reacted, therefore they won?

On the left, El-Sayed’s articulate defense was widely applauded, but there were still criticisms that he may have come off as condescending. Liberal podcasters and influencers opined that El-Sayed should have just let it slide — for the 1,000th time.

Such an easy solution when it comes from those outside the sphere of suspicion.

But the reason we’re even having this conversation is because El-Sayed is challenging the norm. His rise to a formidable candidate who is willing to publicly dismantle loaded questions like Tommy’s represents progress wrought by successive generations of immigrants who’ve had to explain themselves ad nauseam.

Our parents and grandparents went out of their way to avoid those kinds of questions by taming their accents, changing their hard-to-pronounce names or eating their “ethnic” lunches outside the break room. The hope was that they’d melt into the proverbial pot with as little friction as possible.

My father, who emigrated from Iraq, did what all his Arab friends did here in L.A. — fit in. They used Brylcreem to tame their thick hair, listened to Johnny Cash and used terms like “guys and gals” as if they’d just stepped out of an Elvis movie.

As the next generation, I made it a point to openly embrace what my dad often downplayed — that we are Arab and Muslim. But given the post-9/11 climate, it came buffered with calming disclaimers: We are not a threat. Al Qaeda does not speak for Islam. And dolma is delicious, dammit.

El-Sayed’s refusal to brush off questions aligning him with terrorists may or may not cost him the election, but it’s a victory for all of us who’ve been defusing suspicion since we were kids.

The clip from the town hall ends with El-Sayed asking Thomas if he’s a Christian who has tried to live by Christian doctrine. Thomas affirmed. Then El-Sayed asked, “Do you disavow any attempt to read any religious doctrine into the laws of our country?” Thomas responded, “I do not.”

El-Sayed replied, “I think it’s you who needs to understand the Constitution, not me.”