On Being a Muslim in America Now by Sultan Reza

Dear Friends:

A little over four years ago, when on September 21, 2001, I was detained, interrogated and let go by the New York police and FBI near the Holland Tunnel that was closed after the September 11, 2001 attack on the World trade Center, I wrote a letter to my young friends and relatives, advising them to be calm and collect and to honestly and carefully reply to any questions that they might be asked under similar circumstances.

Later on, I sent a copy of that letter to a South Asian website for wider circulation as a warning to young Muslims besides my friends and family. They developed my letter into an article for their web magazine and I received quite a few comments from its non-Muslim readers. Mostly good but some of them really vicious and a few that challenged my claim that "Islam is the best religion." I chose not to respond to any of these comments directly. The article also got published in the Indian Express.

Recently, when I shared my 9/21 albeit 9/11 experience with Mr. Irshad Salim, editor of DesPardes.com, he requested that I retrieve my article and give him permission to reproduce it on his website also for his readers. As requested, I have sent my article to despardes.com for reproduction with or without comments.

Four years have passed but I am sorry to note that a Muslim in America is as much a suspect now as he was back then when I wrote the article. Osama may have died but his ghost lives to serve the dual purpose of recruiting suicide bombers and sanctioning of funds to bomb countries. I feel like writing another article on our plight and vulnerability but I get frightened by the new policy of torture during interrogation. I am too old to suffer the pain and indignity.

Sultan Reza
Virginia, USA

Here is the article written by me on September 21, 2001----->

When I shared my experience with some friends and relatives about my detention and interrogation by the New York police and the FBI on Friday, September 21, they suggested that I complain to C.A.I.R. But I replied, �I am not going to contact C.A.I.R or any other organization to complain about harassment. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time and it was my fault.�

This was a rude retort to somebody who had offered their help. But I felt that I have no right to complain and protest when someone sharing my faith and religion has caused pain to so many innocent people. Being interrogated for six hours was a small price that I had to pay for being near the Holland Tunnel, which is a restricted area. I think about the worst things that could have happened to me on a day when the New York Times had carried a front page story that the FBI was looking for an elderly person, a senior member of Al Qaeda, who was coordinating the activities of blind followers of Osama bin Laden. I could have been locked up in jail for days if I had not handled the situation with a cool head or if I had lied even once when questions were hurled at me by the police and the FBI.

The question was: what was I doing at the entrance of Holland Tunnel that day at 10:30 a.m. This is what the officers, who surrounded me with six police cars, wanted to know. I will give you the same answer that I gave them.

�I had come to visit my friend's son last night who lives a few blocks away. I was heading towards New Jersey turnpike on observer highway when I saw a sign for Holland Tunnel and panicked. I took a left turn and asked a construction worker for directions to the New Jersey turnpike. He told me to take left and then the next left. When I took the first left, I saw the big sign of the Holland Tunnel entrance and a couple of police officers standing there. I drove up to them and repeated my question. They told me to turn left, which I did. There I came across a barricade and a man there asked me to go back to the police officers.�

When I came back to those police officers, I was asked to get down and open the car trunk. A police car arrived with a dog, which was used to search my car. After that, police cars just kept arriving. After checking my passport (American) and the Virginia car plate number, they handcuffed me and put me in a police car. It was hurting but I saw no point in complaining. I was being suspected of having a hand in the most dangerous crime in the history of America and they were not about to pat my back for it. I was glad that they had not started beating me up. The nation was outraged by the tragedy of September 11. I had to understand this and cooperate with the officers who were trying to arrest the culprits and bring them to justice.

After a short drive, I was taken to a building that had a couple of cells for detention of suspects. After removing the handcuffs from my right hand, I was asked to face the wall with my hands above my head while a detective searched me. He took out my wallet. After that I was motioned to sit on a bench and my left hand chained to it. They started making copies of all the visiting cards, telephone numbers and even the photograph of my 15-month-old grandson that was in my wallet.

The visa for Pakistan in my American passport became their major concern and a cause for suspicion. I had to explain to them about the partition of India in 1947 and the creation of Bangladesh later in 1971. Because of which I had relatives in all three countries and therefore a trip to Pakistan did not mean shopping for drugs or a tea party with the terrorists. Yet they asked me if I had seen the picture of Osama bin Laden in my friend's house in Islamabad? They also asked for my friend's name, his wife's name and what his profession was. I told them that they were American citizens, doctors by profession, who run a hospital there.

After about two hours, the FBI agents arrived and started questioning me -- they asked for my name, address and the jobs I had held during the last 30 years that I have lived in America. I was also asked if I had ever held a pilot's license and where I was headed that morning. They were very polite and appeared to be basically concerned because of the maps and hotel guidebooks for Massachusetts, New England and California. They asked me if I had been to Boston and when was the last time I had been there. I told them that I was there for the graduation of my wife's nephew at the Harvard Business School in June.

They asked me the names of all the persons whose telephone numbers I had scribbled on pieces of paper just before leaving home. They also enquired about the names of my close relatives and their addresses and contact numbers. This went on for another three hours. As time passed, I was getting more and more convinced that they were going to lock me up, at least for the night. I peeked into the cell and compared it with my king sized bed. I could not decide which was bigger but I braced myself for an uncomfortable night. I was also worried for my family and the shock they would get when informed of my whereabouts. I also imagined local police and federal agents ransacking my house in Vienna.

It was too late to think about my right to remain silent and ask for an attorney to represent my case. At the same time, I was confident that since I did not do anything illegal, there was no need for legal help or for an attorney to represent my case. Yet I asked them if they were arresting me and they said that the FBI officer would determine that after completing his interrogation.

Around 3 p.m. the FBI agent told me, �It looks like you made a genuine mistake in driving into a restricted zone. The number plate of your car is very close to a Virginia number that we are looking for and that is the main reason we detained you. We'll go and search your car. If we find no incriminating evidence against you, you can go home.� Thereafter, he motioned me to follow him and the other officers who were walking ahead of him. I asked him if I should bring the bench along because I was chained to it! He appeared shocked and called an officer to take off the handcuffs.

They searched my car thoroughly and, among other things, found the receipt of the motel bill in Massachusetts where we had stayed. They also found a picture of my wife and me with her nephew at the Harvard Business School campus, taken soon after his graduation. Imagine if I told them that I had not visited Boston this year!

They also found a CD of Quranic verses with the word 'Mohammad' written in bold Arabic letters. They did not ask any question about it. May be because during the early hours of the interrogation, one police officer had asked me if I was a Muslim and how I felt about it? I told him that I was a Muslim and was proud to be one. �In spite of what they did at the World Trade Center?� he persisted. My answer was, �They should be ashamed of what they did. Because my religion does not teach this.� The FBI agent changed the subject and I told myself to calm down.

My message to you all is this: Calm down. Do not feel offended or get mad if you are stopped and asked a few questions. Even if it takes 5 or 6 hours and even if you are handcuffed.

Think of the magnitude of the crime, and the rage and anger that most Americans are experiencing now. Empathize with the people who have lost their dear ones and sympathize with the rest because they need it. This country has been nice to us. Our children are doing much better here than they would have in the countries where we were born. Unlike many of those countries, the law rules supreme here and the leaders do not play politics with the lives of the people.

America is still the best country in the world and let us put our best foot forward to prove that we are worthy of living here. Do not be rude or cocky or defensive if you are stopped and asked a few questions. They are trying to do their job and it is our job to cooperate with them. Always speak the truth and tell your friends to do the same. So that the story will remain the same when it is crosschecked.

God bless you all and may He keep you and your dear ones alive, free and safe.

The views expressed herein are the writers' own and do not necessarily reflect those of despardes.com

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Mr Sultan Reza, is a Bangladeshi-American, freelance writer. He lives in Falls Church, Virginia, USA

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