Faith and practice: Muslims face tough road in U.S.

"Every weekend, we get some people walking past and yelling 'Terrorist!' or 'Go back to your country! I was born here. My wife is an American citizen. My parents are American citizens. Where do you want us to go?"

Mubarak Bashir with his wife, Antoinette Bashir, and children,
Eshan, 19 months, and Jocelyn, 8, in the background, in the 
prayer room at the Baitun Naseer Mosque in Rochester.
Photo:/ SHAWN DOWD/staffphotographer

Ahmadiyya Times | News Watch |
Source/Credit: Democrat & Chronicle
By Sean Dobbin | Sep. 11, 2011

In Pakistan, they can be sentenced to three years in prison for so much as calling themselves "Muslim."

In Indonesia, angry mobs have murdered worshippers while police officers allegedly looked on and did nothing.

But in the United States, members of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community — persecuted by Muslims elsewhere because they believe in a Messiah who others say was a false prophet — have long been able to practice their religion without fear of persecution.

Though many Muslims in America also do not recognize those in the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community as true Muslims, the religious freedom here has led some Ahmadis to refer to America as "the best Islamic country," said Mubarak Bashir, secretary of faith outreach for the Ahmadi mosque on East Main Street.


"We have the right to practice, freedom of speech, and can do everything without any problems, where in other countries you can't," he said.

Then came Sept. 11, and for the Ahmadi Muslims, many in the country that once offered them refuge seemingly turned on them.

It is believed by many that there are 73 sects of Islam — though some say there are even more — and those sects cover a wide range of beliefs. Regardless of denomination, Muslims in Rochester and elsewhere have said that for the past 10 years, the U.S. has been a tough place to live.

"Every weekend, we get some people walking past and yelling 'Terrorist!' or 'Go back to your country!'" said Bashir, who sets up an informational stand for his mosque every Saturday at the Rochester Public Market. "I was born here. My wife is an American citizen. My parents are American citizens. Where do you want us to go?"

Changing beliefs

Just hours after news of the attacks broke, Muhammad Shafiq, then imam of the Islamic Center of Rochester, stood outside the Westfall Road mosque and denounced the attacks. At his side were members of the Interfaith Forum of Rochester — Jewish leaders, Christian leaders, and others — who called on their faithful not to hold all Muslims responsible for the attacks.

The Islamic Center of Rochester still received a number of hateful letters, and one incident in August 2010, when several teens harassed worshippers at an Orleans County mosque, drew national attention. But Shafiq said that the religious community of Rochester, which stood together that afternoon, has since played a big role in stemming anti-Muslim violence in the area.

"Even those who opposed interfaith dialogue, they appreciated it after 9/11," said Shafiq. "They supported that perspective: that we cannot live in America alone. We need to live with others."

Many mosques also dialed up their efforts to support their individual communities, said Shafiq.

Prior to the attacks, most of the volunteer work done by American Muslims was done to benefit charities in their native countries. But in the past 10 years, many mosques have reached out to their communities, opening soup kitchens and homeless shelters.

Still, despite the efforts, many Muslims that Shafiq has spoken to over the past several years have been discouraged by continuing ostracism. "There's a psycho-depression which exists among some Muslims," said Shafiq. "Even if we do a lot, will we ever be considered as equals?"

'Islamophobia'

George Dardess, a permanent deacon in the Roman Catholic Diocese of Rochester, calls the western world's fear of the Muslim culture "Islamophobia," and said that he himself fell victim to it during the first Gulf War.

As he watched the conflict on television, he realized that he had never met a Muslim.

So he signed up for a Quran study course and found himself driving to the Islamic Center of Rochester. That's when he started to get scared.

"The Islamophobia was in gear and I'd been infected by a lot of negative stuff, and I thought 'What are they going to do to me?'" said Dardess, a Rochester resident.

But he overcame the dread and knocked on the door of the mosque, where Shafiq welcomed him in. The fear was subsiding, but Dardess said one thought that went through his head was "OK, good, I'm not being killed."

Dardess has been studying the Quran ever since, and still visits with Shafiq; the two discuss the similarities of their religions.

Dardess has written four books over the past 10 years, trying to show Americans how they need not fear the religion of Islam. But occasionally, when someone yells out something hateful during one of his sermons on Islam, he's still brought back to the fear he felt 20 years ago.

"I try to keep that in mind to help me be less judgmental about people. Because I've got it in me to be a terrible bigot. It's just the human condition."

Progress

For Bashir, the reaction to the mass murders in Norway committed by Anders Behring Breivik created frustration.

Certain members of the media "said Breivik was not a Christian because these are not the teachings of Jesus Christ. And I agree: Jesus didn't teach to kill people," said Bashir, 30, of Penfield. "But it bothered me as a Muslim, because we've been saying this for the longest time: These terrorists are Muslims by name, not by deed."

But he feels that progress is being made. That's why he continues to set up his stand at the Public Market every week.

We are not a religion of terrorists, he says. "Islam" actually means "peace" and "submission."

"I just hope people don't judge a book by its cover," Bashir said. "Come into the mosque. Ask questions. Stop and learn that this is a peaceful religion."

SDOBBIN@DemocratandChronicle.com

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