'The Mosque That Saddam Built'

Funds From Hussein in Another Era Prompt Suspicions in Time of Fear

When a generous benefactor donated $500,000 to help build a teal-domed mosque amid the rolling tobacco fields of Southern Maryland, nobody paid much attention to the source of the money.

But a quarter-century and two Gulf Wars later, there is considerably more interest in the philanthropist: former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein.

Hussein's donation came at a time when he was a quiet U.S. ally, not a bitter enemy. Now, with Hussein on trial in Baghdad for crimes against humanity, it has caused unexpected problems for the tiny Muslim community in Calvert County, an overwhelmingly Christian peninsula where some view the donation as the mosque's original sin.

In recent years, vandals have smashed the building's windows and spread vicious -- and false -- rumors that its members were terrorists or agents of the Iraqi government. The attacks have slowed, and many Calvert residents have rallied behind the Mosque That Saddam Built, as the Southern Maryland Islamic Center is referred to privately by some of its neighbors. But some suspicion lingers.

Most worshipers there decline to discuss the mosque's genesis: an Old Testament-sounding tale that began with an unexpected visit from a foreigner in flowing robes, who turned out to be Hussein's uncle, and culminated with a fateful journey to a distant Middle Eastern palace.

"We don't deserve this persecution," said Emad R. Al-Banna, 67, the mosque's imam, who said he fled his native Iraq before Hussein had some of his relatives killed. "We didn't do anything wrong. We have no connection now to Saddam Hussein and no connection to Sept. 11."

The particular circumstances of the Southern Maryland Islamic Center might be unique -- experts say they are unaware of other mosques in the country funded primarily by Hussein -- but the deep-rooted fear among its members underscores a more widespread concern among Muslims: They worry that their communities, on some level, still view them as terrorists.

When Al-Banna arrived in Calvert in 1971 to work as a doctor, only three Muslims lived in the county. He came because Issam Damalouji, a doctor and native Iraqi who lived in Calvert and knew Al-Banna's father, said it was an ideal place to live.

Al-Banna, who was born in Mosul, in northern Iraq, and moved to the United States in 1966, wasn't sure at first that he wanted to live in a rural enclave dominated by tobacco farmers and watermen. "I thought it was the end of the world," he said. "There was nothing here."

There weren't enough Muslims to form a proper prayer group, so Al-Banna and the others worshiped in their homes. As he began to fall in love with the county, other Muslim doctors arrived. Soon the half-dozen Muslims at Calvert Memorial Hospital requested permission to meet in the chapel and hold Friday prayers there.

Still, they longed for a building to call their own.

Then one day about 25 years ago, a tall stranger in a long Middle Eastern robe walked into Damalouji's office. The man had an ulcer and asked Damalouji to help him.