Opinion | Sarah Milgrim's death was a tragedy. It would be another to distort their legacy.

In a world that was flooded with empty slogans and online posture, Sarah Milgrim was something rarer: a quiet peace manufacturer. She was not looking for headlines. She was looking for dialogue. It was only for a few years of college for her engagement with organizations that brought Christians and Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians together. Her final study research project for master's degree was the role of intercultural friendships in peace construction.

It was precisely this interest that made it possible for our ways to cross less than a year ago in Morocco and only last month in New York City.

This week, those who knew Sarah as horrified that she was murdered alongside her partner Yaron Lischinsky outside the Jewish Museum of Jewish in Washington, which the authorities described as a politically motivated, anti -Semitic attack. The couple was repeatedly shot when they had an inter -religious event about “making pain in the purpose” – a night that is devoted to humanitarian cooperation, including the efforts to help civilians in Gaza. The shooter supposedly called “Free Palestine”. The irony of this moment is so sharp that it almost feels written.

But that's not the memory that I want to hold.

Sarah's legacy must not be co -opted by the person she shot, and not by those who now brand or want to make them for one thing. Sarah's name should neither become a farmer nor a scream of meeting, for those who try to preserve their death for political profits on both sides of this conflict.

The Sarah I knew was a practitioner of so -called peace diplomacy.

I met Sarah on an inter -religious trip to Morocco about 9 months ago during a scholarship organized by the American Jewish Committee and the Mimouna Association, an organization that preserves the Moroccan Jewish heritage and history. Our program brought together Jews and Muslims from the USA, Israel, France and Morocco. It was her first visit to my country. Sarah was an American Jew and I am a French-Moroccan researcher. I am Muslim and my work focuses on diplomacy and peace formation in the Middle East, especially on initiatives such as the Abraham Agreement and everyday relationships with people to people who can become reality. From the beginning of our community it was clear that Sarah believed in the possibility of another Middle East, one on coexistence and not on conflicts.

My first impression of her was how moving she was through the beauty of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca. There she got to know the long-term tradition of the coexistence of Morocco and the deep roots of the Abrahamic dialogue that Jewish-Muslim friendships in the country have promoted for a long time. Out of respect for the local customs and the holiness of the site, Sarah asked a companion to take pictures of her outside the mosque with a veil. At that moment I saw her as the embodiment of a promise – one that was offered by sincere, mutual respect.