The aroma of hummus, labaneh, and baba ganoush filled the air at ‘Nash’, the café nestled on Sankt-Jakobs-Platz, directly opposite Munich’s Ohel Jakob Synagogue. It was 3:29 PM on March 3, 2026, and as the sun began its descent, a unique gathering was about to unfold. This was not just any Iftar, the traditional breaking of the fast during Ramadan; it was a groundbreaking Jewish-Muslim Iftar, designed to foster dialogue and understanding in a city grappling with complex interfaith relations.
A Sacred Space for Human Connection
The scene was set for an evening of profound significance. Inside the former Stadtcafé, now known as ‘Nash’ (a Yiddish term for snack, echoing the German ‘naschen’ for nibbling), a Muezzin began his solemn call to prayer. The entire, packed venue, filled with hand-picked guests, listened intently. Some turned inward, others observed with a keen, almost educational interest, their eyes drifting across the diverse faces of those who had been invited to, as the organizers put it, ‘leave their comfort zones.’
This pioneering event was the brainchild of Daniel Gitbud, the Jewish owner of ‘Nash’, and the ‘Ausarten’ cultural collective. ‘Ausarten’, meaning ‘to degenerate’ or ‘to get out of hand’ in German, ironically champions the opposite: a shift in perspective through art. For years, this collective, rooted in the liberal Munich Forum for Islam and comprising both Muslim and Jewish members, has been dedicated to fostering respectful coexistence through exhibitions, readings, concerts, and discussions. Erkan Inan, one of its founders, articulated the simple yet powerful motivation behind the Iftar: “One of the first calls I made after signing the lease for Nash was to Erkan. I told him I wanted to celebrate Iftar there to show that we are friends. It’s quite trivial for a Jew to have a Muslim friend and vice versa.”
Beyond Titles: Just First Names
The evening was meticulously planned to create a protected space. Guests were given name tags bearing only their first names, stripped of any titles or functions. “We mix the guests up,” explained Erkan Inan, “to prevent them from staying in their bubbles.” There were no VIP tables, no formal speeches, no hierarchies. The intention was to encourage genuine, human-to-human interaction, free from the usual societal constructs that often hinder open communication.
Initially, the organizers had considered excluding the press to maintain the sanctity of the space. However, they ultimately decided that the story needed to be told, with the strict caveat of no impromptu interviews. Public commentary would only be welcome if individuals voluntarily chose to speak. This approach underscored Erkan Inan’s philosophy: “We want to create a moment where people meet each other as human beings, beyond their political standing, beyond polarization. Otherwise, only their positions speak, not them as people. We want to disarm people, not equip them.”
Breaking Bread and Barriers
The Iftar, also billed as a ‘cultural reception,’ saw people from all walks of life sitting together. “Clemens” (Baumgärtner, a CSU mayoral candidate) found himself conversing with members of the ‘guest worker generation.’ “Verena” (Dietl, a mayor), accompanied by her youngest son, engaged in conversation with an Imam. Verena admitted that addressing people only by their first names felt odd at first, but acknowledged its transformative power: “It changes the conversation; you automatically feel closer.”
The atmosphere was a blend of anticipation and camaraderie. Some guests, initially scanning the room for familiar faces, soon found themselves in lively discussions with strangers. Others, long-time acquaintances, embraced warmly, creating a ‘class reunion’ vibe. The shared meal, rich with traditional Middle Eastern delicacies, became a vehicle for connection.
“Dominik” (Krause, a Green Party mayor) was seated next to “Hannan” (Salamat), a co-founder of ‘Ausarten’ and a respected cultural scholar. The two quickly retreated outside for a smoke and a deeper conversation. Artists, cultural figures with diverse backgrounds, “Mirjam Z.” (Zadoff, head of the NS Documentation Centre), “Jutta” Fleckenstein from the Jewish Museum, Muslim students, and tradespeople all mingled freely.
Asmir Šabić, an artist and board member of the balkaNet association, expressed his appreciation: “We often think we are all alone in our struggles, but this has such a human level that shows we all have our memories, cultures, and identities, and we can bring them together.” Solyman, a medical student from Syria, used the opportunity to network for a student project, noting the elementary school-like simplicity of making new friends. Meanwhile, in a testament to the event’s inclusive nature, 15 young people spread their prayer mats in the hallway for simultaneous prayers, much to the initial surprise of the security staff.
Conversations Beyond Politics
As the evening progressed, the ‘Nash’ buzzed with animated chatter. After the meal and sweet baklava, guests shifted seats, deepening their conversations. A Muslim woman and a Jewish woman, previously strangers, discussed holidays and circumcisions. The 77-year-old Jewish woman remarked, “Similar problems for all mothers, interesting conversations.”
“Anita” (Kaminski) from the board of the Israelite Cultural Community, who co-founded a Muslim-Jewish regulars’ table with Erkan Inan years ago, observed that the political tensions that have escalated since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, and the subsequent conflicts, were largely avoided. “Out of fear that the fronts would harden,” she speculated.
“Clemens” (Baumgärtner), his blue campaign glasses resting on the table, reflected on the unique nature of the event: “I believe the special thing about this evening is allowing the seemingly irreconcilable to happen in one room – that a Muslim prayer takes place in a very Jewish-influenced environment, that we have a Muezzin’s ‘Allahu Akbar’ call directly opposite the synagogue – and nobody particularly cares. The decisive factor is a totally relaxed coexistence.”
A Seed Planted for Future Dialogue
Whether this evening will lead to further action remains to be seen. However, Erkan Inan is hopeful: “If I don’t open these spaces where people can even talk to each other, I can’t break down resentments either.” The immediate goal, he stated, is to encourage other Munich initiatives to embrace similar formats.
As the night drew to a close, the echoes of shared laughter and heartfelt conversations lingered. The Jewish-Muslim Iftar at ‘Nash’ was more than just a meal; it was a potent symbol of hope, a testament to the power of human connection, and a brave step towards building bridges in a world often divided. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most profound changes begin with a simple invitation to break bread and share stories, one first name at a time.
Source: https://www.sueddeutsche.de/muenchen/muenchen-juedisch-muslimisches-fastenbrechen-li.3389897
