A few days after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, Ventura neurosurgeon Moustapha Abou-Samra was anxiously awaiting the arrival of his college-age daughter at a near-empty Phoenix airport terminal. A policeman stopped to chat.
He was looking for Arabs and Muslims, the officer said, unaware that he was talking with an Arab Muslim.
At Abou-Samra's hotel, a new acquaintance told the startled surgeon that Arab Americans should turn themselves in to authorities or, at least, volunteer to spy on their countries of origin.
It has been that kind of year for Abou-Samra. Ironic. Unsettling. Disarming. Threatening.
"Since September 11, things are different," said Abou-Samra, whose dapper Mediterranean appearance could pass for European. "I have in some situations not mentioned my name, a name of which I'm proud, in order to avoid conflict."
Abou-Samra, 55, is an immigrant success story--perhaps Ventura County's most prominent neurosurgeon, past president of the county Medical Society and a major donor to local arts and charities since moving here in 1981.
His five children reflect the American melting pot; he proposed to his Irish Catholic wife, Joanie, on her 20th birthday not long after arriving in New Jersey in 1972.
An industrial-sized U.S. flag flies from a pole at the family's hilltop home in Ventura. He is a Dodger fan and a runner entered in the New York Marathon. They own a hay and pecan ranch in Texas.
Two cultures, two religions. Abou-Samra's surgical office adjoining Community Memorial Hospital reflects the blend. It is adorned with two U.S. flags and a multi-hued rendition of the Statue of Liberty by artist Peter Max. A bookcase holds both a Koran and a Bible. A crystal calligraphy work spelling "Allah" was a gift from his sister in Saudi Arabia.
The doctor is an unabashed U.S. patriot, and he attends a Catholic church with his family. He is also an Arab and a Muslim, descending directly and proudly, he says, from the prophet Muhammad.
But after terrorists attacked the World Trade Center and the Pentagon nearly a year ago, Abou-Samra was forced to reconsider what it means to be an Arab in America.
It's a question many of the nation's about 3 million Arab Americans--fewer than half of whom are Muslim--have struggled with since 19 terrorists made them suspect on Sept. 11.
