Against the Rising Tide of Hate Against Muslims — A Call From the Heart

In a time when anti-Muslim racism, Islamophobia, and bigotry are rising at alarming speed, I feel compelled deep in my heart and core to speak. Not to defend God or the Qur’an. They do not need my defense. God has already promised, and continues to fulfill, the protection of His revelation. Islam is not new, nor is its message unfamiliar. It is the continuation of the same divine truth revealed to Jesus, Moses, Abraham, Noah, and so many others, peace and blessings be upon them all. The Qur’an is al-Furqān, the Criterion, the seal of the revealed books. Nothing in its essence has changed or deviated. It is truth, and it remains truth.

And yet, I speak not as a perfect Muslim, not as a saint or a scholar, but as a human being striving each day to become better, aware that every breath, every moment, every blink is a sacred gift from God. Life can change in an instant; the stage can go dark without warning. God sends reminders in the most unexpected ways.

Just recently, I spoke with a woman I barely knew who told me of an out-of-body experience, a moment in which she nearly died. She described seeing relatives who had passed on and encountering a divine presence she could not fully perceive. Her story was a reminder: life is delicate, spiritual truths are vast, and the soul’s journey continues beyond this temporary world.

I used to write more fifteen years ago, words came easily, flavored with contemplation and spiritual reflection. But years of political engagement and human-rights work, though necessary, have sometimes pulled me away from that inner stillness. Ignorance surrounds us across the world, yes, but also here in the United States, the country I call home. I have been blessed to meet extraordinary people from every background. Yet I have also encountered profound ignorance, the kind Ibn Rushd (Averroes) warned of when he said, “that ignorance leads to fear, fear leads to hate, and hate leads to violence. This is indeed the equation.”

So I feel a responsibility both moral and spiritual to convey, to clarify, and to engage. I am only a message away, a DM away, from sitting with anyone at your community center, your faith space, your school, your living room to speak about what the Qur’an teaches and what Islam truly represents.

This is not a message of superiority. No one is better than anyone else. In Islam, honor comes only through character, action, and sincere intention. Islam simply means submission to Allah (God), not once, not on Fridays, but in how we walk, speak, eat, feel, forgive, and restrain ourselves from harm. I fail at this often. I make mistakes every day, as we all do, not out of wickedness but out of humanity. We are emotional creatures, oceans of waves, storms, and calm. Yet we must remain mindful of our conduct, for we are accountable.

My journey in America and the world has been long, and the world is full of beauty and inspiration. I observe, listen, reflect, evaluate, perhaps too much and most critically I evaluate myself. Knowledge is vast, as the Qur’an beautifully declares:

“If all the trees on earth were pens, and the ocean were ink, replenished by seven more oceans, the words of God would not be exhausted.” (Qur’an 31:27)

Islam is the pursuit of this knowledge: the pursuit of peace, balance, love, compassion, and surrender to the One who created us all. People call Him different names, God, Allah, Jehovah, the Creator, the Divine but the longing is the same: to find meaning, to live with justice, to treat others with dignity.

This is the same message God sent through Muhammad in the cave, Jesus in the cradle, Moses at the Red Sea, Noah at the ark, and Abraham in the desert. Philosophers, scholars, and sages have reflected on these truths for centuries. I, too, have spent years in mountains, forests, along oceans, hugging trees, listening to the whispers of the natural world trying to hear and understand. I still err, but I try to be gentle with myself, and I hope you do the same.

This is not a call to convert, proselytize, or persuade. It is simply an offering of sincerity at a time of growing hostility. Because I must ask: Why so much hate? Why so much ignorance? Why so much fear of your Muslim neighbors, people who want the same things you do: safety, family, dignity, and peace?

Many fall into ignorance not by choice but by environment like their homes where stereotypes were served at the dinner table, religious gatherings where political propaganda masqueraded as gospel, and pulpits where hate was preached instead of the compassion and honesty such spaces demand.

And to those who shout at Muslims to “go home,” I ask gently but firmly: What home? What gives you the right to tell anyone to leave a land that belongs, ultimately, only to God? Do you forget that the man Christians follow Jesus was a brown Palestinian, a refugee, a man of humility and justice? Do you not see how fragile you are, how temporary we all are? We are dust on a floating rock in a vast universe.

God reminds us of this human family: “O humanity, We created you from a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another. The most honorable of you in God’s sight is the most righteous.” (Qur’an 49:13)

And the very first word revealed to the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) was not “fight” or “obey” or “submit.” It was: “Read.” (Qur’an 96:1) Read. Learn. Expand. Engage.

Despite the rising tide of misinformation about the Prophet Muhammad, history preserves the clarity of his character with astonishing consistency. He was born into a society steeped in ignorance, “Jāhiliyyah” where tribal arrogance, idol worship, and cycles of vengeance shaped daily life. Yet he responded to mockery, persecution, exile, and violence not with cruelty, but with humility, patience, and unwavering commitment to justice. The Quraysh tribe hurled insults at him, boycotted him and his followers for years, attempted to assassinate him, and left the early Muslims in great distress and despair.

Still, the Qur’an instructed him: “Repel evil with what is better” (41:34) a command he embodied with remarkable grace. His companions followed him not because of force, but because of the moral radiance he carried: truthfulness, gentleness, courage, and dignity.

His compassion extended to all people, Muslim and non-Muslim alike. One day, as he sat with his companions, a Jewish funeral procession passed by. Out of respect, the Prophet Muhammad stood. His companions, surprised, said, “O Messenger of God, he was a Jew.” And the Prophet replied, “Was he not a human soul?” (Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 1250; Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, 961). In a single sentence, he shattered the boundaries of tribalism and religious exclusivity that dominated the era. He honored treaties with tribes that opposed him. He forgave those who persecuted him. He visited the sick, fed the poor, protected the vulnerable, and showed mercy even to those who had harmed him. His life was a testament to the Qur’anic command: “We have not sent you, O Muhammad, except as a mercy to all worlds.” (21:107)

And in his final sermon on Mount Arafat, his last message to humanity he declared words that remain timeless: “No Arab has superiority over a non-Arab, and no non-Arab has superiority over an Arab; no white person has superiority over a black person, nor does a black person have superiority over a white person except in righteousness and good deeds.” In that moment, long before modern discussions of equality, civil rights, or universal human dignity, he articulated a vision of humanity rooted in spiritual equality and moral responsibility. These are not the teachings of a man seeking power or division. They are the teachings of a messenger of God whose truth continues to touch hearts across the world not because it claims superiority, but because it illuminates the innate longing for justice, compassion, meaning, and unity placed in every human soul.

So I invite you: read the Qur’an not summaries, memes, or political propaganda, but the message itself. Engage with it directly. Meet a Muslim. Share a coffee or tea. Visit a mosque with an open heart. Then make your own informed decision. You may not accept Islam, and that is your right—“There is no compulsion in religion” (Qur’an 2:256), but you will see Islam for what it truly is. And with that understanding, you will see the immense intellectual, scientific, mathematical, astronomical, philosophical, and artistic contributions that Muslims have given to civilization for over fourteen centuries. At a time when much of Europe was in its Dark Ages, the Muslim world in places like Andalus, Baghdad, Samarkand and Cordoba served as the engine of global knowledge, preserving ancient wisdom and generating new discoveries that later fueled the Renaissance. The more knowledge you acquire, the more your heart expands, and the closer you come to truth. Muslims are ordinary human beings with extraordinary diversity, and Islam is a faith with an extraordinary legacy one rooted not in superiority, but in light, learning, justice, and timeless spiritual truth.

But I also know healing is needed. Many who hate Muslims were misled by politicians, media, institutions, and yes, some religious establishments that either spread bigotry or stay silent while others do. To you I say: learn. Read. Reflect. Open the window to light. And if you seek further wisdom, the Qur’an is rich with guidance:

“Respond to evil with what is better.” (Qur’an 41:34)

“Feed the poor, even when you yourself are in need.” (Qur’an 76:8–9)

“Speak kindly, even to the ignorant.” (Qur’an 25:63)

“Do not insult others’ gods.” (Qur’an 6:108)

“Do not kill a soul unjustly.” (Qur’an 6:151)

“Do not force anyone into faith.” (Qur’an 2:256)

“If they incline to peace, then you must also incline to peace.” (Qur’an 8:61)

This is Islam: mercy, justice, charity, humility, accountability, and peace.

I offer my hand, my voice, and my heart not to convert, but to connect. Not to argue, but to illuminate. Not to preach, but to remind. Because in the end, we will all return to the same God, and the question we will face is not “What group did you belong to?” but “What kind of human were you?”

And so, I end with the divine reminder from the Qur’an itself, a message not of coercion but of invitation, an appeal to the mind and heart: “Do they not reflect upon the Qur’an, or are there locks upon their hearts?” (47:24). God repeatedly calls on humanity to ponder, to think deeply, to contemplate the signs within themselves and in the world around them. These words are left for those who seek understanding, for those willing to look beyond the noise of hatred, beyond the distortions of fear, and into the clarity of truth. And with that, I forward this divine call to you in the hope that you, too, will reflect, contemplate, and learn. May it broaden your horizons, draw you nearer to compassion and unity, and deepen your understanding of the human family we all belong to.

May we choose understanding over ignorance, compassion over fear, and truth over hate.