“More than 3,800 years of Jewish history keeps yielding the same bracing lesson: In the long run, we’re alone,” wrote Bret Stephens in his Nov. 8 New York Times column titled, “For America’s Jews, Every Day Must Be Oct. 8.”

Betrayal by the very institutions that Jews have helped to build and by the very people whose friendship Jews felt they have earned was delivered with startling speed after Hamas attacked southern Israel on Oct. 7. University presidents, the media, and intersectional allies were either silent, equivocating, or celebrating, even as Israelis were still identifying charred remains and reviewing the terrorists’ GoPro footage.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow — that the abandonment must have been baked into the relationships all along. But perhaps the loneliness many American Jews feel shouldn’t come as such a shock. Ironically, it was comedian Dave Chappelle who said, “You got to be careful of the company you keep.”

Like everyone else, I feel enraged by those who tear down posters of child hostages and alarmed by the moral confusion on our campuses and city streets. But one thing I don’t feel is alone. Maybe that has something to do with the company I keep.

I never marched with Black Lives Matter or put one of their signs in my window. The Marxism and anti-Israel rhetoric in BLM’s charter seemed disqualifying. Those Jews who did pledge to “do better” and expected reciprocal consideration for their pain watched in horror as BLM chapters giddily posted images of Hamas paragliders online. The loneliness of the Jewish BLM activist is palpable.

My experience with black-Jewish relations has been different. I found common cause with the National Black Empowerment Council, and it turns out that partnerships based on shared ideals, rather than shared victimhood, are more reliable.

“Dear Israeli and Jewish Friends,” wrote NBEC President Darius Jones on Oct. 17 in Tablet magazine. “In these unprecedented times, we, at the NBEC, want to express our unwavering solidarity with you. … Just as you have fought with Black leaders for justice and equality, we will stand with you to see that Jewish people the world over live in peace and security.”

Likewise, I never believed the Council on American-Islamic Relations was the appropriate partner to consult on President Joe Biden’s “National Strategy to Combat Antisemitism.” Those who did and who dismissed CAIR’s links to the Muslim Brotherhood woke up in an Oct. 8 world “to discover who our friends are not,” as Mr. Stephens put it. CAIR has been busy blaming Israel for Palestinian Islamic Jihad’s bombing of a Gaza hospital and lobbying the Biden administration for an immediate ceasefire to prevent Israeli “genocide.”

There were always other Muslim allies to choose from. I heard Dr. M. Zuhdi Jasser, founder of the American Islamic Forum for Democracy, give a lecture years ago about Islamism and its war on the West. His is a voice I have followed ever since. On Oct. 8, Dr. Jasser posted a statement on LinkedIn that reminded me just how not alone American Jews are.

“Today, I would like to say, ‘We are all Israelis,'” he wrote. “The people of Israel have not even had an opportunity to defend themselves after a launch of a massive terror attack and the apologists for the Hamas Islamist terror organization are already in full propaganda (pro-terror) mode.”

Most American Jews have been unable to fully embrace the solidarity of millions of American Christians whose partisan political interests don’t always align with their own, but whose support for Israel has been steadfast. Many lonely Jews in America today should consider reordering their priorities.

Their social media feeds might soon come to be populated with hundreds of posts like the ones an American-Israeli father with professional ties to Christian groups around the globe received after writing about his five sons currently serving in the IDF. “May God keep a circle of protection around them and bless them,” reads one comment. “Do they need anything?” asks someone else. Lonely is not how this father feels.

At a rally for Israel in Dag Hammarskjold Plaza in New York City on Oct. 10, I bumped into Luke Moon, deputy director of the Philos Project, a group committed to Christian advocacy in the Middle East. He was standing on the sidewalk waving a large commingled American-Israeli flag he had made.

Moon’s presence contrasted sharply with the glaring absence of representatives from the Women’s March and other movements, which not long ago enjoyed widespread Jewish support. “The problem,” Moon said to me with a wink, “is that the Jews like the friends they don’t have, and don’t like the friends they do have.”

I try to imagine how lonely Moon and others like him must feel. Perhaps now Jews will remedy that and, simultaneously, address their own feelings of loneliness and isolation by choosing to keep better company.

Rebecca Sugar is a writer living in New York. Her column, The Cocktail Party Contrarian, appears every other Friday in the New York Sun.