Messages popped up on my WhatsApp account from New York, Gaza, Pakistan and Australia. Friends and colleagues were following Michigan’s Senate race, talking excitedly about Abdul El-Sayed. As the results from Wayne County sealed his victory on Tuesday, I felt something I had rarely felt before in American politics: not a muted relief that someone had lost but genuine joy and hope that someone had won.

El-Sayed, a physician and former Detroit health director, defeated Republican Mike Rogers. He will be the first Muslim ever elected to the United States Senate. As a Muslim American from Michigan, this hit home.

Like many in Michigan’s Muslim community, I knew of Abdul long before he became a fixture in national headlines, from his 2018 gubernatorial campaign to his Friday sermons in local mosques. As Ramadan began this year, I attended one of his town halls for Muslim constituents. Before a few dozen community members and leaders, Abdul pledged to fight for all Michiganders. His sincerity and commitment to that pledge remained evident even as the pressures of the campaign intensified. I have seen him attend funerals for community members near my home and watched him go from person to person, greeting people with kindness. Even in the final days of an exhausting campaign, he responded personally to messages from the community, including mine.

We attended the same university, the University of Michigan, where he once helped lead the Muslim Students’ Association. I later served as a college student body president there. Just days before the election, Muslim alumni (including me) invited him to a football tailgate party with students, parents and graduates. His former teachers and students have spoken to me with pride about the person they knew.

Muslim Americans are often asked to celebrate any politician who occasionally says “salaam” or appears in a mosque before Election Day. Abdul was not an outsider to our community coming to court us. He belonged to it.

During the campaign, I welcomed hundreds of local Muslim community members, out-of-state political candidates canvassing for him and members of his staff into my home. People heard from those closest to him what this race could mean for Muslim Americans. The enthusiasm felt different from the familiar, dispiriting bargain of voting mainly to stop someone worse.

Two years ago, I wrote about why I would vote against genocide in the 2024 presidential election. That decision was shaped by my work with Palestinian healthcare workers, by witnessing the realities in Palestine firsthand and by outrage at the Biden-Harris administration’s complicity in the genocide in Gaza. Neither I nor many of Michigan’s Muslims have forgotten. But this time, the ballot offered something other than just a protest vote: a candidate who had opposed Israel’s genocide against Palestinians from the outset while also caring about the range of issues affecting Michiganders.

His willingness to speak truth to power attracted immense hostility from Washington’s elites. President Donald Trump repeatedly mocked Abdul’s name, treating “Muhammad” – his middle name, meaning “the praised one” – as an insult. Political opponents and even some voters insinuated that his faith alone made him suspect, recycling unsubstantiated allegations tying him to groups and movements he did not belong to.

Abdul responded with dignity and directness. When critics made his name the issue, he spoke about groceries, housing, healthcare and affordability. When challenged over his opposition to genocide, he questioned the premise that wanting children to live free of bombs was somehow hateful. He did not accept the proposition that a Muslim must disown his community or Palestine to qualify for public office.

And most importantly, he fought back. Many Muslim voters I spoke to felt they had found someone willing to fight for them, to challenge the presumptions and racism of journalists, pundits and media outlets rather than accept their unjust framing.

His victory speech began with the words his opponents had tried to weaponise: “My name is Abdulrahman Mohamed El-Sayed.” He recalled having said “inshallah” – “God willing” – whenever he was asked about winning. Now, he said, it was time for “alhamdulillah”, or “Praise be to God.”

That moment was electric, not because Arabic phrases alone are a sign of solidarity – even former President Joe Biden said “inshallah” in a debate before proceeding to commit genocide against Palestinians and aid the bombing of mosques and burning of Qurans – but because his Muslim identity had survived a countrywide effort by special interest groups and racists to make it disqualifying. His faith, Islam, is a value system he actively chooses every day, a commitment he strives to live out in public life. His being Muslim mattered to me more than his Arab ethnicity or ancestral origins, a simple happenstance of birth.

There was money behind the attempt to stop him too. The American Israel Public Affairs Committee’s (AIPAC’s) affiliated super PAC spent roughly $30m in Michigan’s Democratic primary, an extraordinary investment to defeat someone who openly opposed US support for Israel’s genocide and apartheid. In his victory speech, Abdul thanked AIPAC for the chance to beat it twice. One loss will not dissolve the lobbying group’s power. But Michigan demonstrated that AIPAC spending need not amount to a veto over who can win.

After Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s victory in New York, sceptics suggested that a Muslim candidate outspoken about Palestine could only win in a liberal metropolis, not a state that Trump carried in 2024. El-Sayed travelled from small towns and villages to industrial cities and suburbs, visiting churches and mosques, and he won statewide.

Michigan has long been a centre of Muslim American life, from Dearborn’s famous Arab restaurants and coffee houses to Hamtramck, the first Muslim-majority city in the US. Generations have built mosques, schools, businesses and institutions while enduring suspicion and discrimination. There is irony in Michigan electing a Muslim alumnus of the University of Michigan, which has faced legal challenges over its treatment of antigenocide protesters. Some of the voices that were treated as dangerous on campus found a home at the ballot box for the first time.

Other Muslims across the country made history too. My mentor, friend and colleague Adam Hamawy, with whom I served on a medical mission in Palestine documenting harm to people’s health, won his congressional race in New Jersey and travelled to Michigan to support Abdul. Darializa Avila Chevalier, Aber Kawas, Nabeela Syed and so many others won seats in Congress and state legislatures across the country, refusing to accept that their silence on human rights abuses is the price of participation.

Yet our celebration does not mean we have suspended all judgement. Some Muslims I spoke with vehemently opposed Abdul’s decision to campaign alongside former Vice President Kamala Harris and former President Barack Obama. Their administrations’ policies, from facilitating the genocide in Gaza to conducting drone strikes against civilians in multiple Muslim-majority countries, remain at the forefront of people’s minds. I understood their anger and shared their apprehensions about normalising the killers of children. Yet many of us still voted for Abdul because we believed in his sincerity and because he had repeatedly made clear that he did not agree with every policy of those backing his campaign. I am under no illusion that one senator alone will end the systems and structures of exploitation that fund war machines abroad and fail their own communities at home. Muslim representation risks becoming hollow if mistaken for the only tool for liberation.

And that is precisely why the substance of his campaign matters. Abdul connected the fight against endless war to the fight for healthcare, clean water and a liveable wage. He spoke of a mother trying to keep her children on lifesaving medication and a worker fighting for a union. He insisted that the money spent destroying someone else’s children has a cost for children in the US too. His politics asked whether Americans could both recognise their own self-interest and show humanity towards others.

His election does not make US government policies any more just overnight. It does not bring back a single Palestinian child. It does not absolve the Democrats, Washington or any of us of complicity. And it certainly does not entitle Abdul to six years in the Senate without scrutiny.

But it destroys one convenient lie: that Muslim Americans must choose between being unapologetically Muslim and belonging fully to American public life.

For years, we were told to lower our voices, soften our names and reconsider what we advocate for if we wanted to succeed. On Tuesday, Michigan delivered its verdict. The man they tried to make unelectable will now sit in the US Senate. Alhamdulillah, he does not need to become less Muslim to serve his state – and the rest of us do not need to police who we are to demand a better future for ourselves and the generations to come.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.