Muslims in Illinois are coping with increased scrutiny and incendiary rhetoric. This first segment of a two-part Illinois Public Radio report visits a Springfield mosque.
The mosque of the Islamic Society of Greater Springfield is in a fairly nondescript building, save for its copper-colored dome. It's tucked away from a main road, nestled in a cluster of small businesses. The local Imam leads a Friday afternoon call to prayer.
About 30 shoeless women and children sit on the floor a carpeted room. The women have scarves covering their hair, skirts that go down to their ankles, and they all have removed their shoes before entering.
There's an inside wall with windows that allow a view into the main room, where a many more men are sitting. Springfield resident and economics professor Baker Siddique is one of them. He says he knows what it's like to be victimized by radical Muslims. He grew up during a time of genocide and civil war, fighting for Bangladesh's independence from Pakistan.
It's estimated up to three million people were killed and thousands more raped and tortured during the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War. "The war was a very difficult experience for us," Siddique says. "I've seen a lot of killings and destruction." Winning independence had repercussions. Some of Siddique's brothers went into hiding for fear of backlash from the extremists they had fought against.
After obtaining a degree, Siddique moved to Canada to pursue more education. Numerous times while living there he was shouted at with racial slurs -- even spit on. "You can say that I got used to it in some sense."
In 1987, he and his wife moved to Springfield so he could work at what was then called Sangamon State University. He says it was virtually impossible to find a landlord who would rent to him: "We'd call and someone would say, 'Yeah, we have an apartment,'" he said. But as soon as the person would see my face, they'd say, 'Oh. It's taken.'" Siddique says that, up until the mid-90s, he'd hear people shout racial slurs and yell for him to "go home," even in the presence of his small children.
Siddique calls himself simply "Muslim." Technically, he is Sunni, as are about 9 out of 10 Muslims in the world. He says his religion is peaceful. From his point of view, no terrorist would be able to accurately identify as Muslim.
Siddique prays five times a day and regularly attends mosque. On this day, Imam Hassan Mohammad's sermon is about fear -- and how to combat it by living openly with one's faith: "More than ever before, people feel insecure," the Imam says. "They are afraid for their families, for their lives, for their businesses." Mohammad especially urges the women not to be afraid to wear their hijabs -- the scarves that cover their heads -- in public.
Maryam Mostoufi has been a Muslim chaplain for two decades and has a doctorate in ministry. She was raised as a Christian but says the Islamic faith called to her early in life: "I love the idea that every act you engage in has the potential for being an act of worship." she said.
When she moved to Springfield in the eighties, she says the Muslim community consisted of a dozen families. Now there are around 300 from an array of ethnicities. She says today's sermon resonated with her, especially as a Muslim woman. "Because of the way in which we dress," she said, "we are easily identified and we can be targets. We can be spit at, have names called, have things thrown at us. Usually those are crimes of opportunity.
"In general, this is the best place for us to practice our religion and to live that American dream."
Discrimination against Muslims is, of course, nothing new. The Springfield Islamic Society's previous mosque was set on fire in the wake of a terrorist attack on American soil. Interestingly, it wasn't 9/11. It was after Timothy McVeigh bombed the federal building in Oklahoma City in 1995, killing more than 150 people.
Immediately following that attack, news reports blamed Muslim terrorists, inciting an intense wave of Islamophobia. However, the response after the attack on the World Trade Center in 2001 was a complete reversal, Baker Siddique says. Following the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Washington, D.C., non-Muslim Springfield residents surrounded the mosque holding hands to protect those inside as they worshiped. "That was something really American," Siddique says.
Siddique says he understands why people these days are increasingly vigilant regarding Muslims. He doesn't consider someone a bigot for questioning the presence of Muslims in America. But he says the current political rhetoric -- especially from presidential candidates -- is scary and irresponsible. It creates an environment of paranoia and fear, which he feels can lead to violence toward more innocent people.
He could be right. The FBI says the number of hate crimes targeting American Muslims -- including murder -- increased last year by 14 percent. Some experts say that number is likely to increase this year.
Siddique's wife, who wears the hijab, has taken a break from substitute teaching for fear of how students might treat her. For now, he says, the best they can do is continue going about their daily routines as much as possible.
"We're not just withdrawing from life," he said, "because, in general, this is the best place for us to practice our religion and to live that American dream."
