We all saw this coming.
Not because we hate our neighbors. Not because we fear prayer. But because we understand history. We understand symbolism. And we understand that culture never collapses all at once. It erodes. Quietly at first. Then loudly.
A tweet making the rounds this week shows video of the Islamic call to prayer, the Adhan, echoing through New York City streets at dawn. Five in the morning. Amplified. Projected over neighborhoods that still carry the scars of September 11, 2001. That date is not ancient history. It is living memory.
🚨 ANOTHER ADHAN BLASTS THROUGH NYC STREETS....
— Amy Mek (@AmyMek) February 16, 2026
This is the sound of conquest echoing in New York City RIGHT NOW.
The Islamic call to prayer (Adhan) is being amplified louder and more aggressively - starting as early as 5 AM - invading homes, neighborhoods, and the once-proud… https://t.co/bjqwONQ4ZV pic.twitter.com/Hxtda0xkoD
ANOTHER ADHAN BLASTS THROUGH NYC STREETS....
This is the sound of conquest echoing in New York City RIGHT NOW.
The Islamic call to prayer (Adhan) is being amplified louder and more aggressively - starting as early as 5 AM - invading homes, neighborhoods, and the once-proud skyline where thousands were murdered on 9/11 in Islam's name.
Listen to this new video I just received: The blaring Adhan dominates the streets, forcing every resident - Christian, Jewish, atheist - to hear the declaration of Islamic supremacy multiple times a day.
Under leaders like Eric Adams (who greenlit loud broadcasts for Fridays & Ramadan) and now the push under jihadi Zohran Mamdani's influence - this isn't "religious freedom." It's dawah from City Hall.
It's submission. It's the next stage.
They don't need planes anymore. They're conquering with sound, policy, and silence from those who should defend our values. New York is falling - one amplified "Allahu Akbar" at a time.
Under policies approved by Eric Adams, mosques have been permitted to broadcast the call to prayer publicly on Fridays and during Ramadan without a special noise variance. More recently, activists tied to figures like Zohran Mamdani have pushed for expanded public religious expression framed as equity and inclusion.
Let me clear about something up front, as a Christian pastor. The United States protects religious liberty. That includes Muslims. The First Amendment is not selective. And it should not be. But freedom of religion is not the same thing as forced participation in someone else’s religious proclamation.
The Adhan is not ambient background music. It is a declaration. The phrase “Allahu Akbar” means “God is greatest.” It is a theological claim. It is a call to submission. Practicing Muslims understand this. That is not controversial. That is simply fact.
Now imagine living in lower Manhattan. Imagine hearing that broadcast before sunrise, rolling through concrete and glass, over a skyline where nearly 3,000 Americans were murdered in an attack carried out in the name of that same phrase. Context matters. Memory matters. And if that memory is ingrained in my mind, being in 6th grade and states away at the time, I can't imagine where it sits for those in the city.
We are told that discomfort equals intolerance. That objection equals hate. That if you even question the wisdom of amplifying the Adhan over public neighborhoods, you are somehow anti-Muslim. That doesn't just strike me as ridiculous; it's lazy thinking.
The issue is not private worship. The issue is state-enabled amplification. When City Hall makes policy decisions that allow one religious proclamation to be projected into unwilling homes at dawn, it is no longer just about free exercise. It becomes about cultural dominance. And I didn't mistype, dominance is the word.
No one would accept a church blasting the Apostles’ Creed over city blocks at 5 AM. No one would tolerate a synagogue projecting the Shema across neighborhoods daily through municipal permission. We know this. Noise ordinances exist for a reason. So why the carve-outs?
Supporters say it is about inclusion. But inclusion that overrides everyone else’s peace is not inclusion. It is favoritism. It signals that certain expressions are protected beyond criticism, while others are carefully monitored, litigated, or mocked. This is where the frustration deepens.
New York is not just another city. It is the financial capital of the world. It is the city that buried firefighters and police officers after September 11. It is where families still read names at the memorial every year. That memory should create humility in leadership decisions, not bravado. We were told years ago that multiculturalism meant peaceful coexistence. Live and let live. Practice your faith quietly and freely. But coexistence assumes boundaries. It assumes mutual respect. However, blasting theological declarations over entire neighborhoods before sunrise feels less like coexistence and more like encroachment.
And yet there remains an even deeper concern.
When politicians frame every objection as bigotry, they shut down legitimate civic debate. When critics are smeared, people stop speaking. Silence follows. Then policy accelerates. Doesn't that pattern sound familiar?
This is not about me demonizing Muslim Americans. I do not believe that. Most Muslim families I have met simply want to live, work, raise their kids, and worship in peace. I can respect that. What I am wrestling with is leadership. I am asking whether the people elected to govern New York really understand the emotional and historical weight this city carries.
When I hear amplified religious declarations rolling through neighborhoods before sunrise, I do not just hear sound. I hear symbolism. Sound shapes culture. Repetition normalizes things. I have watched how “limited accommodations” slowly become permanent fixtures in other areas of policy. I have seen how lines move. And if I am honest, that pattern concerns me.
I do not think New York is collapsing because of one broadcast. That would be dramatic. But I do think it is drifting. And drift is how you lose things without realizing it. You wake up one day, and the culture feels unfamiliar, and you cannot pinpoint the moment it changed. It was not a crash. It was a slow slide.
A confident nation does not panic at prayer. But it also does not pretend that symbols are meaningless. Especially symbols tied to deep wounds in living memory. We all saw this coming because we have watched leaders treat every boundary as negotiable and every objection as hateful. When citizens raise concerns, they deserve engagement, not insults.
Religious liberty should protect the mosque and the church equally. It should not empower the state to amplify one faith’s call into unwilling homes.
The question is simple. Can New York defend freedom without surrendering its common space? That debate is not hate. It is citizenship.
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