Fear in Our Hearts
What Islamophobia Tells Us about America
Caleb Iyer Elfenbein
NEW YORK UNIVERSITY PRESS
New York
NEW YORK UNIVERSITY PRESS
New York
© 2021 by New York University
All rights reserved
References to Internet websites (URLs) were accurate at the time of writing. Neither the author nor New York University Press is responsible for URLs that may have expired or changed since the manuscript was prepared.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Elfenbein, Caleb Iyer, author.
Title: Fear in our hearts : what Islamophobia tells us about America / Caleb Iyer Elfenbein.
Description: New York : New York University Press, 2021. | Series: North American religions | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020015032 (print) | LCCN 2020015033 (ebook) | ISBN 9781479804580 (cloth) | ISBN 9781479804610 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781479804627 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Islamophobia—United States—History—21st century. |
Muslims—United States—Social conditions—21st century. | Hate crimes—United States—History—21st century.
Classification: LCC E184.M88 E44 2021 (print) | LCC E184.M88 (ebook) | DDC 305.6/970973—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020015032
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020015033New York University Press books are printed on acid-free paper, and their binding materials are chosen for strength and durability. We strive to use environmentally responsible suppliers and materials to the greatest extent possible in publishing our books.
Manufactured in the United States of America
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Contents
Preface
Introduction
1. Public Lives
2. Rehabilitation of Public Hate
3. Policing Muslim Public Life
4. Public Aftermaths of September 11
5. Humanizing Public Life
Conclusion
Acknowledgments
For Further Reading
Notes
Index
About the Author
Preface
I’m Not Muslim. So Why Am I Writing This Book?
For the last twenty years, I’ve devoted my professional life to studying, teaching, and writing about Islamic traditions and the histories of Muslim communities.
I’ve studied Arabic and spent time in the Middle East.
I’ve taught courses about the modern history of the Middle East, about the debates that have animated life in the region during the modern period—debates about religion in public life, gender and sexuality, the nature of national identity, and the relationship of societies in the region with Western powers, including the United States.
I’ve also taught courses about Islamic devotional traditions. I’ve explored with my students how Muslims have read and experienced the Qur’an in different times and places, and how Muslims in different times and places have understood what it means to live a good life and be a good person.
I’ve written about debates in Muslim societies about what people need to thrive as human beings—and whether the government should be involved in providing those things.
Throughout, I’ve learned that one of the most meaningful things about studying communities of people in different times and places is what we can learn about ourselves in the process. The debates that I describe above aren’t necessarily particular to Muslim communities in the Middle East or elsewhere. Some of the details may be, but the debates themselves are not. Societies around the world, including the United States, grapple with where religion fits in public life; struggle with questions of national identity, especially in times of great change; and wrestle with disagreements about gender roles and sexuality.
People around the world think about what it means to live a good life and be a good person. Learning how people different from ourselves think about these kinds of questions can be incredibly illuminating about our own communities, our own societies, our own journeys through life. Let me give you an example from my own personal experience.
I was once invited by a local church to talk about Islam. I decided that I would describe how, as a non-Muslim, studying Islam has left a mark on my own life. In the talk I described what I find to be a really beautiful idea in Islamic devotional traditions: that God is closer to us than our own jugular.
I understand this idea to mean that God is always with us, is part of us. God is an ever-present witness to what we do, what we think, how we approach living with others in the world. God is, in other words, the ultimate conscience. This conscience doesn’t expect perfection (thank goodness). This conscience expects that at the end of our lives we can rest knowing that we’ve done more good than harm in the world. I find that a realistic standard, and I’ve taken it as my own in many important respects.
I don’t think this requires that I become Muslim myself. I’m not even sure that it requires a firmly held belief in God. I’ve translated the idea of God-as-conscience into something that makes sense to me—that reflecting on what I do and why I do it is an essential ingredient of being a good person.
For some reason, the way that this idea comes through in Islamic devotional traditions really made sense to me in a way that Jewish and Christian version of ideas never really did (despite all the time I spent in synagogue and Catholic mass growing up, which is perhaps its own story!). Studying Islam, and the ways that different Muslim communities have brought Islam to life, has helped me learn about myself and my own communities in meaningful ways.
Studying Islam has enriched my life by helping me think about what it means to live a good life and be a good
