Muslims are winning historic elections in the United States, and the response from some political leaders is starting to sound like the years after 9/11.
That contrast is hard to miss.
Zohran Mamdani became New York City’s first Muslim mayor. Ghazala Hashmi became Virginia’s first Muslim woman elected to statewide office. Abdul El-Sayed won the Democratic primary for a Senate seat in Michigan, putting him on track to become the first Muslim senator.
These are real political victories. Voters made choices. Candidates built campaigns. The ballot counted.
Then came the attacks.
After El-Sayed won his primary, Alabama Sen. Tommy Tuberville called him a “terrorist” and a “radical Islamist.” President Donald Trump called Muslim Democratic candidates “jihadists.” Rep. Nancy Mace wrote that every Muslim holding public office was a threat to national security and the republic.
This is not a policy debate. It is a warning about identity.
Criticism of El-Sayed’s words and record is fair. Criticism of Mamdani’s views is fair. Candidates should face hard questions about Israel, Gaza, public safety, religion, and civil rights.
But calling Muslim officeholders threats because they are Muslim is a different act. It tells voters that faith itself may disqualify a person from public life.
That message is spreading ahead of the midterm elections.
Experts who study anti-Muslim sentiment say the current rise rivals the climate after the 9/11 attacks. The Institute for Social Policy and Understanding said its Islamophobia Index rose from 25 in 2022 to 33 in 2025. A Pew survey found that 51% of Americans now say Islam is more likely than other religions to encourage violence.
Those figures are grim. They also show why the rhetoric matters. A campaign slogan does not stay on a screen. It reaches schools, workplaces, mosques, and homes. It tells people who belongs.
The political machine behind this is easy to see. Some candidates talk about “radical Islam.” Others warn about “Sharia law.” Some say Muslims are taking over towns or public offices. These claims turn ordinary political participation into evidence of a secret plot.
The catch is that these claims do not need to be true to work.
Fear can move votes. It can raise money. It can produce attention. It can give a campaign a new subject when voters are angry about prices, war, or weak results from the party in power.
That makes the moment especially dangerous. A candidate can use a Muslim opponent as a symbol without proving anything about that opponent’s platform. The religious label does the work.
Social media makes this faster. A short post can travel farther than a careful policy plan. A slur can become a fundraising message before anyone checks the facts. The reward is instant attention. The cost falls on people who had nothing to do with the campaign.
The Center for the Study of Organized Hate found that 46 Republican elected officials published more than 1,100 posts targeting Muslim Americans between February 2025 and March 2026. After El-Sayed’s primary win, anti-Muslim posts naming him rose sharply.
That does not mean every criticism of a Muslim candidate is prejudice. It does mean the line is visible. Attack a vote, a plan, or a public statement. Do not turn an entire faith into a security file.
The country has seen this pattern before. After 9/11, Muslim Americans faced suspicion, surveillance, travel restrictions, and hate. Experts now describe a new wave that reaches beyond claims about terrorism. The language increasingly presents Muslims as a wider threat to the nation.
That shift matters.
A democracy should be able to absorb new candidates without treating their religion as an invasion. The election of a Muslim mayor is not proof that a country has been captured. A Muslim Senate nominee is not evidence of a hidden command. It is a candidate asking voters for power, like every other candidate.
And voters can say no.
They can reject El-Sayed’s policies. They can reject Mamdani’s policies. They can reject any candidate who mishandles a serious crisis or makes a hurtful statement. That is the point of elections. The judgment should belong to voters, not to a religious stereotype.
The recent victories also show something hopeful. Muslim Americans are not waiting for permission to take part. They are running, organizing, and winning. Their success expands the picture of who can lead.
I find that thrilling. I also find the reaction deeply troubling.
Because the attacks reveal the catch in this progress. Winning office does not end prejudice. Sometimes it makes prejudice louder. Success can become the reason people claim a group is dangerous.
The midterms will show whether fear can turn that claim into votes. They will also show whether voters are willing to reject a politics that treats Muslim identity as a threat.
The choice is plain. Debate what candidates believe. Debate what they will do. But do not pretend that calling every Muslim officeholder a danger is normal politics.
It is a test of who gets to belong in public life.