posted April 07, 2003 04:54 AM
This is not only shameful but scary..
Muslims on edge as U.S.-Iraq war intensifies
Allie Shah, Star Tribune
Published April 7, 2003
God is watching the Friday prayers at the Columbia Heights mosque. So are the police. Squad cars have become a familiar sight at Muslim gatherings -- requested by the congregation to help them feel safe in this time of war.
In Minnesota and across the country, Muslims are on edge, afraid of being attacked, jailed, deported or even just typecast as Public Enemy No. 1.
The war with Iraq is the source of this latest wave of uneasiness, which first emerged after the Sept. 11 attacks.
Since the war with Iraq began, there have been no reports in Minnesota of violence against Muslims, Arab Americans or Sikhs, who often are mistaken for Muslims.
But in Indiana, an Afghan man was set on fire and was burned over more than half of his body. In Illinois, a Palestinian family's van was bombed. Those reports -- and the news that Omar Jamal, a Twin Cities activist and Somali immigrant, had been arrested and faces deportation -- have spread through the community, exacerbating fears.
Faiza Hashim and son, Luqman
Darlene Prois
Star Tribune
New government policies, such as the FBI's project to identify all mosques in the country and the Immigration and Naturalization Service's registration of some immigrant men from Muslim countries, further add to the uneasiness.
"It's a pretty widespread thing," said Faiza Hashim, a 27-year-old mother in Blaine. Her oval face was framed by a violet hijab, or head covering. "People are afraid that for no reason, people are going to crack down on us because we're Muslims. Then you hear about what happened to the Japanese during World War II." Her voice trailed off. "It's an ill-defined fear, but you do feel it."
She and her husband, Salman Waheeduddin, just bought a house, but he tells her they shouldn't buy too much furniture. Maybe they won't stay in this country. It isn't like it was three years ago, when they immigrated from Pakistan.
They worry about what they see as an increasingly hostile atmosphere toward Muslims. For a time, they were seriously considering joining other Muslims in moving to Canada, Hashim says. Her husband still thinks about it. "He wants to keep his options open."
Her in-laws, who live in Saudi Arabia, once sent them a little gift money. Waheeduddin didn't want the local bank thinking that the family had ties to terrorists, so he wrote a note to bank officials explaining where the money had come from, his wife said. It's the kind of thing they wouldn't have felt obliged to do before the war, or before Sept. 11.
Free to speak out?
At protests against the war, Aida Wazwaz finds she is often one of only a few Muslims who aren't afraid to speak out. "The people who aren't active are too scared to express their legitimate disagreement with our government's foreign policy," said Wazwaz, a peace activist.
"We just want to have the same rights as Michael Moore. They may hate him, but they're not going to go to the lengths of putting him in jail."
FBI officials say the mosque tally is part of a larger effort to pinpoint sports stadiums, nuclear power plants and other buildings that could be targets for terrorism or hate crimes. But fears in the community have led to unsubstantiated rumors of agents visiting mosques in Minnesota and elsewhere, taking down license plate numbers and listening to people's phone conversations.
"We're afraid to carry on a normal conversation and have it taken out of context," Wazwaz said.
Recently, at her daughter's school, Wazwaz chatted with another Muslim woman who was careful not to say the word "jihad" out loud for fear of being misunderstood. The Arabic word is used to describe a person's inner struggle between right and wrong, but many people mistake it as referring only to an act of aggression or violence against non-Muslims.
Wazwaz, who also wears the hijab, says she can always tell when the country's terror alert has been raised because of the way she's treated when she's out and about. People stare more, she said, and they're often not very friendly to her.
Could it be that she's more likely to interpret other people's actions as hostile because of her own heightened fears? Yes, Wazwaz said. "We definitely have become more sensitive. We, too, have become more vigilant about who's around us."
Friday, the day of rest for Muslims, is a time when people gather at mosques around lunchtime to pray. A few days before the war started, a smoke bomb was found outside the Columbia Heights mosque run by the Islamic Center of Minnesota. The mosque also has been a target of occasional vandalism, said Hamdy El-Sawaf, executive director of the Islamic Center.
To make congregants feel safe, the Columbia Heights police department often sends a couple of cars to park outside the mosque on Fridays. "This is our agreement with them. They come there, and I feel so good," El-Sawaf said.
Climate of suspicion
Since the war began, Dr. Mohamed Yassin has seen the nervousness some people show when they see his name on luggage tags at the airport. A couple of months ago, he was at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport waiting to board his flight. It was time to say his Maghrib (evening) prayer, so he unrolled his prayer rug in a corner of the waiting area near the gate. He began to pray -- first standing up, then bowing with his hands on his knees, and then kneeling with his forehead touching the floor.
Behind him, he could hear two people talking, wondering aloud what he was doing. Then he heard the same voices telling the security officer at the gate to make sure to check him out.
"Don't worry," Yassin recalled the the officer saying. "I'm keeping an eye on him."
Just before boarding, Yassin said, he was pulled aside and searched.
Unlike some Muslims, who say they've started driving more instead of flying, Yassin says he will continue to fly.
"My kids have asked me a couple times if I should slow down and not travel," he said. "I feel terrorism has done something in this country by making us feel divided. I'm not going to change my life."
Allie Shah is at ashah@startribune.com.