By Azizah al-Hibri
Boston Globe, 9/11/2002, p.A23

THE RIPPLE effects of the attacks on the United States a year ago continue to unfold. At first there was the enormous loss of life, the malicious destruction of American symbols, and the somber and grief-stricken nation huddling together in unity, defiance, and anticipation.

At the Washington National Cathedral, President Bush invited an imam to join him in the National Day of Prayer and Remembrance. In many American cities, non-Muslims protected neighboring mosques from the wrath of the misguided. They instinctively understood that we were all in this together and that Muslims were victimized by the attacks alongside their compatriots. After all, missiles do not inquire about one's religion.

A year later, consequences continue to build up. Those in charge of our safety inform us that another attack will surely occur, and when it does it will be another horrific one. We feel helpless, angry, and exposed. Yet we go to work every day trying to rebuild the pension nest egg we lost because some corrupt executives cheated the nation out of its delicate recovery. We continue to act as if tomorrow will be just another day.

It is getting harder for Muslims to act that way. Unlike their compatriots, they have had to bear multiple burdens. They suffered human losses and will again. They suffered from growing suspicion about ''sleeper cells'' in their midst. They suffered government raids on their homes and their educational and charitable institutions. There were secret detentions, profiling, and secret evidence used against many of them; devices that stretched our constitutional limits to accommodate urgent security concerns.

Then, when no one thought things could get worse, they did. In July a member of the U.S. Civil Rights Commission reminded Muslims of the possibility of their internment if there is another attack on U.S. soil.

Those comments were rejected by the full panel. But that was only the beginning. An attack from the ''religious right'' followed soon after. It maligned everything the Muslims held sacred. Those who were known for their vehement opposition to intolerance and incivility in the public square tepidly objected. The situation started to resemble that of America in the 18th century, when Islam was freely referred to as a ''false religion'' and our prophet as a great ''impostor.'' Muslim regimes then as now restricted freedom of speech, and they were recklessly viewed as the embodiment of Islamic principles.

It may not be a known fact that some minority leaders have blamed Muslims for the recent erosion of civil liberties. Some Muslims have blamed others within their community because they came from the same ethnic background as the terrorists. Those blamed are in a daze. They have not yet fathomed the horrendous events and refuse to own them. Why should they? After all, how many Christians owned the Oklahoma City bombing?

In the midst of their pain, American Muslims know that they cannot prevent another attack. No terrorist asked for their opinion in the first instance; nor did the terrorists of 9/11 seem to have had the welfare of American Muslims at heart. Otherwise, why would hundreds of Muslims perish in the World Trade Center? Why would the terrorists expose American Muslims to a catastrophic backlash just about the time that Muslims were beginning to find their own voice within this society?

So let us be very clear: These attacks were not about the world of religion and spirituality. They were about the assertion of a brute worldly power, power that willfully harms and destroys people, symbols, and our peace of mind.

The America I knew and loved should not become the casualty of 9/11.

I am not afraid of internment if God chooses it for me. Nor do I have children whose future needs to be secured. When I arrived in this country years ago I read about the McCarthy era, the Japanese internment camps, the forced conversion of enslaved African Muslims, and the genocidal wars against the natives of this country. As time passed, I saw a mature country struggling to get out from under this painful heritage, into the sun of true liberty and remarkable diversity, and I loved it, warts and all.

My country was never perfect, nor will it be, but at least I have the constitutional right and the caring heart to try to make it so. I will not let any terrorist take that away from me or from you. God willing, I shall succeed.

Azizah al-Hibri is a professor of law at University of Richmond and executive director of KARAMAH: MUSLIM WOMEN LAWYERS FOR HUMAN RIGHTS.