By Mona Eltahawy

BELLEVUE, OH — When a Muslim woman wearing a headscarf tried to place an order at a bakery in Waco, Texas recently, the clerk refused to serve her saying, “We’re at war with your people.” The distraught woman replied she was born and raised in the United States, and appealed to her fellow Americans at the bakery to help her.

Thirteen of them tried — by yelling at the clerk, asking for the manager, or walking out in disgust. Six customers supported the bigoted clerk. Twenty-two just looked away and did absolutely nothing.

The Muslim woman and the bigoted store clerk were actors in a staged segment of the ABC Primetime’s show “What Would You Do?” But the reactions to the ugly scene were real — a snapshot of post- 9/11 America.

Watching such bigotry shatters my heart into a million pieces. The scenario barely begins to convey the complicated picture of life for American Muslims. Not least was the reaction of the father of a soldier who had just returned from duty in Iraq: He was a vociferous defender of the Muslim woman.

For my own chapter of the complicated Muslim life in America, the little town of Bellevue, Ohio (pop. about 8,200) is the setting.

My brother Ehab and his family are the only Muslims in Bellevue, a green and warmly Midwestern town about two hours by plane from my home and its mirror opposite, New York City, a metropolis where I anonymously navigate a tapestry of ethnicities and languages.

Bellevue got its first Muslim family when the town hired my sister-in-law, Abeer, to become its only woman OB/GYN. She is now a local celebrity — featured in the town’s paper and greeted by patients and co-workers alike at the mall, restaurants, and at my niece Danah’s soccer practice, where Abeer points out all the children she has delivered.

Like the Muslim woman in the Primetime segment, Abeer wears a headscarf. It matters little to her patients, who love her and who keep her waiting list as long as my brother’s commute to Toledo, where he is a cardiologist. I like to think that unlike the bigots and the shamefully quiet majority of customers in the ABC segment, Abeer’s patients would speak up if they ever encountered such hatred because they know a Muslim.

Ehab and Abeer moved to the United States from Egypt in 1999. I followed a year later. They were visiting me in Seattle on September 11, 2001. We didn’t leave home for two days because we were worried someone angry at Muslims would try to attack my sister-in-law, more visibly Muslim than I because of her headscarf.

A drunken man did try to set my local mosque on fire. But then residents in the surrounding neighborhood covered the mosque’s entryway with flowers and messages of apology and support. And for almost two months, volunteers stood guard outside the mosque holding signs saying Muslims are Americans.

My memory of that spontaneous support for Muslims from the community is what made the ABC segment so shocking. How could 22 people remain silent before the vilification of an innocent woman?

The ABC segment was just the tip of an iceberg of Muslim-phobia and vilification in America today. Thankfully, there have been no attacks since those on 9/11. But polls show the fears and suspicions are on the rise in America.

Why? A major reason is the use of Muslims and Islam to scare voters. It has become one of the cheapest cards to play in an election campaign: An anemic economy and an unpopular war make it classically requisite for a scapegoat: So, pull out a Muslim punching bag. Barack Obama’s opponents think they can slur him and Muslims with rumors and accusations.

President Bush was commended for visiting a mosque soon after the 9/11 horrors, and saying clearly that Islam was not to blame. But his policies since then have been almost the complete opposite. The Patriot Act has been used to spy and hound inocent Muslims and has ruined plenty of Muslim lives — but led to no terrorist convictions. Guantánamo has become a shameful blight on all that America once represented.

My brother was one of the 8,000 Muslim men interviewed by the FBI in November, 2001. Two years later, he submitted to being fingerprinted and photographed like a common criminal as part of a “Special Registration.” What about him, besides his Muslim faith, warranted such treatment?

During my most recent visit to Bellevue, Abeer told me she wondered if her patients ever thought it was weird they were seeing a Muslim doctor. I told her that her work and her family’s life in Bellevue had undoubtedly humanized Muslims for the town.

My niece Danah and her brother Nour are the first Americans in our family. At the church daycare they attend, the teachers know not to give them any pork. Danah knows that ‘God’ and ‘Allah’ are interchangeable.

We’re eagerly anticipating the arrival of Danah and Nour’s twin brother and sister. Their parents are in heated debate as we speak over Muslim names that work well in English and Arabic. For now, my brother jokingly calls them Tic and Tac.

My hope for the four Eltahawy siblings from Bellevue, OH, is that they grow up in a country where their fellow Americans refuse to be silent witnesses to hatred but will instead fiercely stand up to bigotry.

Distributed by Agence Global.