Young U.S. Muslims Strive for Harmony

"Many young Muslim Americans, particularly those who have been raised in primarily immigrant religious communities, struggle to reconcile the seemingly incompatible aspects of their identities," the message said. "At the core of the struggle lies the question, Can one be both Muslim and American? . . . Isolating ourselves by remaining within the safety nets of familiar groups, or allowing ourselves to become lost in the crowd will prevent us from establishing a thriving community in this nation."

Al-Sarraf said they were criticized on both ends -- by non-Muslims who didn't trust them and by Muslims who asked: "What are you doing? Why are you compromising your religion, talking to these people in Washington?' "

U.S. Muslims had for many years avoided politics, Al-Sarraf said, pointing their children toward such fields as engineering or medicine. "They say going into politics is dangerous, you'll get corrupted, you'll lose your religion."

As the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan continued, he said, the idea that "hey, we're killing Muslims" troubled many students.

The communities were also debating whether paying taxes or voting supports a system that is "oppressing Muslims abroad," said Ahmed Younis, national director of the Washington-based Muslim Public Affairs Council and a friend of Al-Sarraf's.

But Younis said Al-Sarraf and his friends represent an evolution of that debate. "9/11 has changed the conversation," he said. Before, people thought they could choose political isolation. But post-9/11, "their political integration is a prerequisite for their ability to make a change in both domestic and foreign U.S. policy."

Integrating With Mainstream Culture

Early on a Friday morning, the sky still dark, a few cars filed into the ADAMS Center's parking lot. Hawa, in a white T-shirt and red sweats, was there for 5:15 prayers, which he attends most days before going to his job as a software company consultant.

Imam Magid led the prayers and then taught a religious class. Hawa had suggested the topic: the life of the prophet Muhammad.

Sitting on the carpet in a small circle of men, wearing a beige robe and knitted cap, Magid put the prophet's view into a 21st-century context.

"No one will enter paradise if his or her neighbors will not feel safe from them," said Magid, his lively cadence accented by his native Arabic. "My neighbor, whether Muslim or not Muslim, must feel I am not doing harm to him, whether by having loud music, or having a fight over a parking space or having water sitting around breeding mosquitoes."

Sitting cross-legged beside his mentor, Hawa took notes.

Afterward, Magid said that he worries when young people go to extremes, staying in the mosque all day and calling movies or sports or social activities haram , forbidden. To him, these are part of a balanced spiritual life.

"All the extremism now in Britain, all this is because people have the wrong idea of what religion is. I tell young people, 'You have three choices in America -- isolate yourself; assimilate and do everything in popular culture that you're going to do; or integrate' -- and that's what we're advising people to do."

Magid does not sanction all mainstream American activities -- adult co-ed swimming and shopkeepers selling alcohol are not all right with him. But he is troubled by those who preach against a long list of American activities, from celebrating Thanksgiving to shaking hands with non-Muslims.

Hawa is constantly making decisions on when to participate and when to excuse himself. He and Ballve don't celebrate birthdays, but they play soccer and go to her parents' house for Thanksgiving.

"Everybody has their own little ways," he said, sitting with his wife and 7-month-old son, Hamza, in their Sterling apartment. "For example, if a female put out her hand to shake it, then I would, but maybe someone else I know who celebrates birthdays wouldn't shake a woman's hand. These are forms of jihad -- struggles we go through."

Hawa votes but has stayed away from public life. His friends send him letters on Muslim causes to forward to elected officials, but he sheepishly admits he's never sent one.

"I don't agree with all the decisions that our government makes. But the reason why I'm here is I do love the country. And it's a land of opportunity. And the life here is much easier than life overseas. I do consider myself an American Muslim."

'Humanizing One Another'

Over the winter holidays, Al-Sarraf visited London and was struck by how second-generation Muslims viewed themselves as more tied to their parents' native countries than to England.

"I didn't get the sense of the British identity being an important aspect," he said.

The isolation among European Muslim communities resurfaced last month when British Muslims were arrested for planning to blow up transatlantic flights. Some experts have said that isolation, and living in tight enclaves, has made young Muslims in Europe more likely to be drawn into such plots.

The ADAMS Center and GWU's Muslim Student Association try to combat that by holding events with Jewish and Christian groups. The MSA has held Eid banquets with campus Jewish organizations and sponsored a dialogue between Muslim and Jewish students.

Al-Sarraf called the meetings "a way of humanizing one another."

He has taken his mission into his professional life. This summer, he worked at the State Department's Israel and Palestinian Affairs Office. This semester, he entered Whittier Law School in Costa Mesa, Calif.

GWU's MSA never did resolve the question of the partition. The debate continues each year, as new people come and go.

Tomorrow: Attacks challenge Salafi Muslims.