On September 11, 2001, did American Muslims become America's newest race? This essay offers preliminary observations regarding that question.

Using the word “race” in America is like waving a red flag before a bull. You are likely to get a spirited response. In the context of a national calamity like the September 11, 2001 tragedy, discussing race becomes an even more delicate venture. Accordingly, to reduce prospects of confusion later, this essay begins by briefly addressing some initial concerns about even using the term “race.” The essay acknowledges that race is a complex, multilayered phenomenon. In these circumstances, do not expect these comments to provide definitive insights into the nature of “race.” Rather, because racial worldviews are so pervasive, the essay limits itself to merely attempting to give a sense of how the term “race” is used here.

After briefly dealing with some concerns about race, the essay outlines evidence that, based on what at best can be called racial stereotypes, American Muslims have been singled out for particularly egregious treatment following the September 11 tragedy. For illustrative purposes, the essay draws comparisons between the response of public officials to the September 11 and Oklahoma City bombing catastrophes. The essay then puts these matters in a slightly broader historical perspective by considering several cases which the United States Supreme Court decided in the 1930s and 1940s before and after another calamitous day in American history: December 7, 1941, when the Japanese Empire attacked Pearl Harbor. To round out the historical outline, two contrasting cases involving the jurisdiction of military commissions to try American civilians are briefly evaluated.

I have received your letter and the accompanying photograph, which you identified as that of a section of the frieze in the Supreme Courtroom, located in the capital, Washington, D.C. The frieze (tunf) portrays images of eighteen of the greatest leaders in human history who played a role in either establishing or enforcing laws or Shara'i. One of these images purports to represent the Prophet Muhammad (SAAS). The artist placed the Qur'an in one hand of this image, thus symbolically recognizing it as the source of Islamic legislation. In his other hand, the figure holds a sword symbolizing the power of the state. This second symbol is in recognition of the fact that the Prophet was also a leader of his community.

Growing numbers of people in the United States think it is important to teach about religion in the public schools. Teaching about religion includes consideration of the beliefs and practices of religions; the role of religion in history and contemporary society; and religious themes in music, art, and literature. But what is the appropriate place of religion in the public school curriculum? How does one approach such issues as textbook content, values education, creation science, and religious holidays?

The following questions and answers are designed to assist school boards as they make decisions about the curriculum, and educators as they teach about religion in ways that are constitutionally permissible, educationally sound, and sensitive to the beliefs of students and parents. There are other questions concerning religion and the schools not addressed here, including school prayer, equal access, and how schools accommodate diverse religious beliefs and practices. For a full discussion of these broader issues, please contact the sponsors of this statement.

Since the mid-1990s the debate over the teaching of evolution in public schools has acquired new life, largely as a result of a new generation of critics of evolution. In comparison to their predecessors, today's critics are better credentialed, have published works with respected academic and university presses and periodicals including peer-reviewed ones, and offer much more sophisticated arguments. The purpose of this essay, however, is not to engage the scientific merits of the arguments offered by these maverick scholars. Rather, the purpose of this essay is to explore a problem of jurisprudence, raised by philosopher Alvin Plantinga and responded to by philosopher of science Robert T. Pennock, whose resolution has relevance to the constitutional question of whether the teaching of evolution along with the works of its critics is permissible in a society whose citizens embrace contrary philosophical and religious points of view.

The American people are relative newcomers to the question: What is the proper role of religion in the political process? For we have been wrestling with this issue for only a little over two hundred years. On the other hand, the Jewish community has had some 2500 years to balance our Jewish identity with our citizenship in the Diaspora. The insights we have gained in this process provide some understanding of the confusion which buffets America today. I wish to begin with the basic question: According to Jewish law (Halakhah), how should Jews interact with the legal and political process of a non-Jewish country?

Halakhah is the legal system of Judaism, by which the traditional Jew regulates public and private life. Since it arose in a culture which recognized no distinction between “religious” and “secular” law, it was, throughout most of Jewish history, the ultimate, binding source of order in Jewish society. The Halakhah includes rules regarding civil and criminal jurisprudence, ceremonial observances, and day-to-day activities.

“We have it in our power to begin the world over again.” Thomas Paine, pamphleteer of the American Revolution and defender of the French Revolution, captures in this phrase a central insight conveyed in the idea of human rights: we have it in our power to begin the world again. The sentiment is cast in simple declarative form. As such it may seem naive. We are, after all, constrained—are we not—by the inheritance of a world already accomplished, a world whose structures bind us in untold ways? But the intention of Paine's statement is more than aspirational. It affirms a vision of what is possible—and what is desirable—given the deepest character of who we are and what we might become. If we comprehend the full dialectic between self and world, then we have it in our power to begin the world again even as the world is the matrix—the source and the condition—of our power. That's a central insight conveyed in the idea of human rights which has stirred up such controversy, philosophical and political, since it emerged at the beginnings of the modern era.

Since women's rights first entered the agenda of the United Nations (“U.N.”), there has been a running tension between the expression and codification of those rights and the right to freedom of religion. Thus far, this tension has resulted in an uneasy relationship between U.N. instruments regarding religious rights and U.N. instruments on women's rights. The former stand mute with respect to the relationship between women's rights and religion. The latter are encumbered with substantial reservations by countries concerned with safeguarding their religious tenets and traditions.

This paper will examine the tension between women's rights and religious rights as expressed in certain State Parties' reservations to the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (“CEDAW”) that are based on Islamic Law and the extent to which CEDAW can ensure adherence to its norms while recognizing the right to freedom of religion or belief. The article does not purport to offer any authoritative commentary of Islamic law. Rather, its objective is to highlight connections between CEDAW's tenets, the nature of Islam-based reservations, and the course of women's lives in certain reserving countries.

The first thing I thought when I finished reading Stephen Carter's recent book, The Culture of Disbelief, was: This guy needs to get out of New Haven more often. Anybody who believes that America does not take religion seriously cannot possibly be looking at all of America.

When I look at America, I apparently see a very different culture from the one Carter identifies. The divergence in our perceptions is not merely an empirical disagreement; rather, this divergence in fact masks a basic doctrinal difference. I am suggesting, in other words, that it is because we have such different views of legal doctrine that we perceive the place of religion in our society so differently.

This is a legal essay, however. Its subject is thus primarily the doctrinal issues; these issues occupy Parts 3 through 6 below (and, to a lesser extent, Part 2). I argue that American culture is like a religion, with its own texts, its own authorities, and its own values. One of these values is that other religions must remain in their own sphere. While my focus here is legal doctrine, insofar as it is accurate to maintain that doctrinal differences in the realm of religion and the law can significantly drive divergent perceptions of religious reality, then it may be useful to underscore Carter's own view of reality as well as my rather different perception; such an underscoring is the objective of Parts 1 and 2.

Husband and Wife have a fight. It is the culmination of many such fights. In a rage, Husband packs his bags and leaves home. He never returns.

Husband is a reservist in the army. A war breaks out and he is called up to serve. He is sent abroad, never to return.

Husband is the captain of a ship. He leaves home for a long journey at sea. Wife does not join him. The ship sinks and nobody aboard survives.

Husband goes on a business trip abroad. Wife stays at home. Husband does not return when he is scheduled to. Nobody hears from him again.

Husband and Wife are separated during the Holocaust. Wife survives but is unable to locate Husband.

Years pass. Wife gets on with her life. She meets a man who proposes marriage to her. She wants to accept, but may she?

The answer to that question, if she is a traditional Jew who wishes to abide by the halakhah is no. According to the halakhah, Wife is still a married woman. If she remarries without unequivocally ascertaining Husband's death, she will have committed adultery, an act which is absolutely prohibited by Jewish law.