it, why i need to keep wearing it now more than ever. my muslim
friends just understand and right now, i don’t want to have to be
explaining myself all of the time.
Abdul described the first six months or so after 9/11 as a “high-
connectivity” period among muslims. He noted that during those months
“you hung out with muslim people even if you didn’t have many shared
interests. it was because we were going through the same thing.” Over time,
muslims began to “settle in” to relationships with those with whom they had
the most in common. some of the friendships that grew out of the response
to the backlash persisted, but others did not. What clearly remained,
however, was the lingering sense among muslims that the community was
“under siege.” The most blatant acts of hatred may have decreased in the
months after 9/11, but the War on Terror—and the associated government
surveillance programs and inflammatory media coverage of islam—kept
muslims in a heightened state of insecurity.21 muslims thus continued to
cling tightly to other muslims as they attempted to navigate the post-9/11
social environment together.
Representing Islam
Journalist Geneive Abdo, in her book Mecca and Main Street, vividly depicts
the numerous ways that life changed for the nation’s muslims after 9/11.
“For more than a century, muslims had lived in America in peace, blend-
ing into the ethnically diverse landscape,” Abdo argues. “But suddenly, they
were no longer in the shadows as an all but invisible minority. From now on,
their every word would be noted, their every action seized upon by a nation
gripped with fear and inflamed by political manipulation.”22
muslim Americans were well aware of the heavy cloud of suspicion hanging
over their community after 9/11. “We’re all suspects, every one of us” is how
one man described it. Another respondent captured the all-encompassing
nature of the backlash: “your neighbors are watching you. strangers are
156 / Chapter 6
staring at you on the street. police are shaking you down at the airport. The
FBi is spying on you at the mosque.” And another participant said, “it’s like
living your life under a microscope. everything you do is magnified.”
After the World Trade Center crumbled, many Americans started to view
islam through a lens that allowed them to see only the pain, violence, and
terror now associated with the faith. malika, a muslim who lived and worked
in new york City, stated bluntly, “look, we get it that these stereotypes
weren’t created out of nothing. Obviously they’ve been around for a long
time; 9/11 unfortunately served as proof to a lot of people that muslims really
are terrorists and as evidence that every bad thing they thought about our
religion was actually correct. The only way to combat these negative ideas is
from our side.”
so muslims also turned the microscope on themselves. The participants
in this study were virtually unanimous in reporting that they had grown
more mindful of their words and behaviors in the wake of 9/11. muslims
described themselves as “cautious” and “careful,” and, in some cases, they
were unwilling to confront non-muslims for fear that the entire islamic
community would be cast in a negative light. One woman put it this way:
i don’t want to do anything even remotely questionable. if i’m about
to get into an argument with someone about something stupid, like
they sold me something defective, i’m thinking, “Oh my God, if i
start arguing with this guy, he’s going to think that all muslim people
are argumentative.” if i’m driving and i happen to run a red light and
a cop pulls me over, he’s going to think that all muslim people are
law-breaking citizens. it’s like you can’t do anything wrong, because
you’re there for your whole community, and everyone’s going to be
branded in the mind of this person.
Other respondents expressed the same general sentiment:
it’s really hard, but i know i have to be more careful in how i con-
duct myself. like even something as simple as riding the subway. if
somebody shoves you out of the way, you should be able to glare at
that person. But since i feel like i have to represent all muslims every-
where now, i feel like i have to smile at the person and say, “Oh, i’m
sorry, i must have been in your way.” instead of, “Hey! Why’d you
shove me?” Because i have to constantly be the sunny, shiny picture
of friendly islam.
you have to be cautious. i’m beginning to realize that i have to be
aware of how i represent myself, because people are going to infer
Adaptations / 157
from how i act what a typical muslim is like. if i do something
wrong, they’ll say, “Oh, that’s because he’s muslim.” if i do something
right, hopefully they’ll think it’s because i’m muslim and represent-
ing the culture. i’ve been more aware of how i act in situations, of
who i am and what i represent.
in 2002, while speaking to a large gathering of muslim Americans,
former Democratic Congressional representative Jim moody reminded the
crowd that most Americans had never met a muslim before and had never
thought about islam at all until 9/11. He encouraged the audience to show
Americans the “true nature of islam,” with its focus on respect for neighbors,
hospitality, compassion, truth, generosity, justice, and tolerance.23
moody picked up on a refrain that was already common among muslims.
As the post-9/11 backlash grew in intensity, many muslims came to believe
that if they could just show people what a “good muslim” and the “true
islam” were all about, then some of the stereotyping and antipathy would
end. (This feeling was widespread among the muslims that i interviewed
in new york and Colorado.24 Jennifer Bryan found the same thing within
the Arab muslim community that she studied in Jersey City,25 as did louise
Cainkar in her research with muslims in Chicago.26)
muslims used such words as “responsibility” and “duty” when they
described the pressing need to positively represent their faith. This sense of
obligation was especially salient among second-generation muslim Americans.
Their status as muslims and Americans provided these individuals with a
number of resources that they drew on as they attempted to defend their
faith. Because they were born and raised in the United states, these men and
women were intimately familiar with American culture, customs, and values.
They had grown up in communities where non-muslim neighbors, teachers,
and peers surrounded them. in addition, they were college educated, and
they spoke the english language without an accent. marwan emphasized how
important having an “American identity” became after 9/11: “We’re like a
fresh generation. We don’t have a foreign accent. people listen to us differently.
They react differently to us. They don’t shut their ears, because we sound
American, we look American, we act more American. We’ve grown up in this
culture.”
similarly, Kamila emphasized how her background and her knowledge of
islam had shaped her desire to “teach others” about the faith:
i want to teach others about my religion, more than before 9/11,
because now people are hearing a lot of lies and stereotypes and stuff
like that. so i take it more upon myself that it is my duty, especially
since i grew up in America and i have the language. . . . i have some
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of the knowledge of islam, too, because some people grew up here,
but they don’t really know that much about islam, so it is harder for
them to speak about it. so since i have some knowledge, too, i think
it is my responsibility to be talking about it and letting people know
how my religion is.
Symbols and Stereotypes
After 9/11, some observers questioned how muslims would respond to the
fallout that the attacks caused.27 Would the sharpness of the rejection that
muslims felt cause them to shed their most visible signifiers of difference? Or
would they more prominently display their faith? Would muslims attempt to
“melt” into mainstream culture? Or would they rise up and attempt to reclaim
their religion and culture in more public ways than ever before?
Although some women responded to the backlash by removing their
headscarves, and some men shaved their beards, these reactions tended to be
fleeting and were largely induced by profound feelings of fear and/or intense
pressure from family members (see Chapter 5). most muslims who wore
religious attire before 9/11 continued to do so in the aftermath of the terrorist
attacks. And, in the months following the attacks, more, rather than fewer,
muslims began to adopt noticeable symbols of their faith. several factors help
explain these trends.
As the data presented above suggest, muslims experienced a powerful
sense of responsibility to “reach out” and to “educate others” after 9/11. For
this information sharing to occur, muslims either had to approach or be
approached by non-muslims. A few particularly bold interviewees said that
if they saw someone giving them “looks,” they would walk directly up to that
person, introduce themselves, and ask if the individual had any questions.
This gave muslims the opportunity to actively engage with others outside
their faith. This strategy was atypical, however, especially in the first several
months after 9/11. Given the extreme tension that marked that time period,
the thought of confronting strangers in such a manner simply seemed too
risky to the majority of muslims.
Therefore, more often than not, muslims would either use formal
mechanisms to try to educate people about their faith (e.g., hosting mosque
visit days, sitting on interfaith panels, giving media interviews), or they
would wait for non-muslims to approach them. it was the women wearing
headscarves and the men with brown skin and beards (in other words, those
who fit the stereotypical image of “what a muslim looks like”) who most
commonly received questions from strangers about their religion. Because
this opened up a window of opportunity to dispel harmful misconceptions,
a significant number of muslims began to frame being visible in a positive
Adaptations / 159
light. Ameena said the following in reference to wearing the hijab, which she
believed enhanced her ability to “attract” non-muslims who might want to
ask her questions about her faith and identity as a muslim: “This is a gateway
for me to introduce who i am. i can attract more people. They can ask me
questions and find out what muslims are really all about. i hope they can
learn that we’re not out there to kill and be violent.”
Ali, who had a beard and often wore a kufi, was also normally happy
when people would ask him questions: “yes, i get some hostile questions. But
i also get some very educated and polite questions, like ‘may i know what
religion you are from? Why are you wearing this?’ i like it when people ask,
so that i can make things clear for them.”
And a female respondent observed, “i know a lot of women who started
wearing the headscarf after 9/11. if you’re not covered, nobody can tell if
you’re muslim or not, so they can’t talk to you about your religion. you lose
that opportunity to share with others.”
Of course, wearing the hijab or any other symbol of islam came with
certain costs. As i describe in the previous chapters, those muslims—and
other religious and ethnic minorities—who were highly visible were most at
risk for physical or verbal attacks after 9/11. maria depicted the double-edged
sword of being easily identifiable as muslim:
What’s good about wearing the headscarf? people look at me and
think, oh, that’s a muslim girl. That’s a good thing, i’m identified for
who i am. They look at me, and instantly they know, she’s muslim.
maria paused for a moment; then she continued:
What’s difficult about wearing the headscarf? The same thing. people
look at me and they instantly know i’m muslim. [ Laughs. ]
even though standing out as a muslim was difficult—and potentially
dangerous—after 9/11, some of the participants were unwilling to stop
wearing what they considered to be religiously mandated clothing. Amani,
who was from Colorado, explained, “personally, my understanding of islam
for both women and men. i know that many people will contest this idea,
and i respect them. i just hope they will respect me as well during this
time. i am going to continue to cover, and nothing can stop that. This is my
religion.”
Women who adopted the headscarf after 9/11 often attributed their
decision to the fact that they had become “more religious.” As muslims started
reading the Qur’an more carefully, spending more time with other muslims,
160 / Chapter 6
and affiliating more closely with islamic institutions, some individuals were
persuaded that wearing the hijab was required and would fulfill a religious
commitment to God.28 “if people would ask me why i started covering [four
months] after 9/11,” a woman from new york City said, “i would tell them
that it was because i started learning about islam, getting more religious. i
was already praying five times a day, but the next step was to wear the hijab.
it allowed me to see that you do things for God, not to please those around
you.”muslims feared for their safety in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks,
but they also felt a strong need to stand in solidarity with other muslims
who were being harassed. shaheen pointed out that her sister began wearing
the headscarf after 9/11 because she wanted to better represent the muslim
community:
i have two sisters. The older one is twenty. i’m eighteen. she didn’t
wear the scarf. When this happened, she said, “you know, i’m going
to start wearing a scarf now.” i was like, “Of all the times, you’re going
to start now?!” she says, “i’m not muslim enough. i can’t support
muslims, because i
don’t seem like them to other people.” regardless
of what the consequences of that were, she was like, “i want to start
now, just for this reason.”
Wahiba, who had never worn the scarf, also started covering after 9/11:
i witnessed my friends being flipped off and glared at, and it made
me want to wear a veil, just to show that they shouldn’t have to change
how they are because this happened. it’s really horrible that people
would relate what happened to the Twin Towers to women who wear
veils in this country, as if they have anything to do with it. . . . They
don’t, but people think they do and mistreat them because of it.
massoud, a pakistani American male, said that he would “only
occasionally” wear ethnic attire before 9/11. But for several weeks after the
attacks, he wore traditional clothing to support his sister and in an effort to
deflect attention away from potentially more “vulnerable” targets:
i wasn’t as concerned about my safety. i acknowledge that, being a
man, i have a lot of privilege and a lot of security that a lot of people
don’t have. my concern was more for my sister. she can very easily be
noticed as a person who’s a muslim because of the head covering, her
scarf. so i personally dressed up in my traditional attire after 9/11.
Adaptations / 161
i wore a green pakistani outfit. i wanted to detract attention from
other people who would be put in a situation where they would be
victims of hate crimes. This is again masculinity when i assume that
i’m more able to bear a violent attack than my sister. in actuality, she’s
probably better prepared, because she knows tae kwon do, and i’ve
never done that. [ Laughs. ] But i decided that i wanted to be as sup-
portive of her and the other muslim sisters as i could.
As has been noted elsewhere, people often react to perceived threats upon
their identity by amplifying the most noticeable elements.29 These elements
then become symbols of their independence and chosen identity. Hafeez
observed this pattern among the muslim students who began attending
Friday prayers after 9/11. After indicating that “attendance doubled” in
the months following the attacks, he said, “it’s like, if you’re muslim you’re
feeling the heat. When people have pressure put on them, they identify with