We have been sold a Muslim boogeyman. We are buying into it, and
We have been sold a Muslim boogeyman. We are buying into it, and we are terrified, and that terror is causing people to lash out at comedians like myself or women wearing hijabs, or anyone who seems to defend equality for Muslims worldwide.
In the fierce and luminous words of Maysoon Zayid, we hear the voice of both warning and compassion: “We have been sold a Muslim boogeyman. We are buying into it, and we are terrified, and that terror is causing people to lash out at comedians like myself or women wearing hijabs, or anyone who seems to defend equality for Muslims worldwide.” These words strike at the very heart of a modern disease—fear, manufactured and sold like a weapon. Zayid, a Palestinian-American comedian and advocate, does not speak from theory but from lived experience. In her voice trembles the weight of centuries of misunderstanding and prejudice, but also the eternal hope that truth might yet heal what fear has divided. Her words are a torch in the darkness, calling humanity to awaken from the slumber of ignorance and to reclaim its capacity for empathy.
To grasp the meaning of this quote, we must see what Zayid reveals: that fear is not born in the hearts of the people—it is planted. The “Muslim boogeyman” she speaks of is not a creature of reality, but of imagination—an illusion crafted by rhetoric, media, and politics to justify suspicion, hatred, and war. Through endless repetition, this false image has been made to seem real, so that even the innocent begin to fear their neighbors, and suspicion replaces understanding. Zayid’s words unmask this deception: the enemy we fear is not the “other,” but the fear itself. When terror rules the mind, compassion withers, and society turns its hand against its own conscience.
The origin of Zayid’s insight comes from a long tradition of courage in the face of distortion. For generations, Muslim communities across the world have been defined not by their faith, but by the fears of others. After the tragedy of September 11, 2001, this shadow deepened, as prejudice took root in laws, in workplaces, in the streets. Women in hijabs were harassed, mosques were vandalized, and those who spoke for peace were branded as threats. Zayid, as both a performer and a Muslim woman, experienced firsthand how this terror—the terror of stereotype—erodes the spirit of unity. Her calling as a comedian became an act of resistance; through laughter, she dismantles the fear that ignorance builds. Her words remind us that humor, when born of truth, is not trivial—it is sacred.
History, too, bears witness to this pattern of fear. In every age, those who are different have been cast as monsters by those unwilling to understand them. The Romans once demonized early Christians; the Inquisitions branded thinkers and Jews as heretics; and in more recent memory, the Japanese-American internment during World War II revealed how swiftly a nation can turn against its own in the grip of panic. Each time, the “boogeyman” has changed shape, but the mechanism remains the same: ignorance feeds fear, fear feeds hatred, and hatred blinds justice. Yet each time, too, there have arisen voices—prophets, poets, and truth-tellers—who have stood against the tide. In our time, Zayid stands among them, wielding laughter as her weapon and truth as her shield.
Her words, though born of sorrow, are also an invitation—to reclaim equality, to remember that justice is not a privilege of some, but the birthright of all. She speaks not only for Muslims, but for every community that has ever been dehumanized by falsehood. For when a nation turns upon one of its own, it wounds itself. The persecution of one faith is the erosion of all freedom. Zayid’s voice reminds us that to defend another’s dignity is to safeguard our own, and that equality for Muslims worldwide is not merely a Muslim issue—it is a human one. When she says “we are buying into it,” she is calling us to stop purchasing fear with our silence. She is urging us to become conscious consumers of truth, to question what we are told, and to see with our own eyes.
The wisdom of her words lies in their understanding of how fear transforms both the oppressed and the oppressor. For fear does not only harm those it targets—it corrodes the soul of those who harbor it. When we lash out at others, we reveal our own insecurity, our loss of inner peace. True courage is not in striking back, but in opening one’s heart to understanding. As Rumi, the ancient mystic, once said, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Through the wound of fear, if we are willing, light can enter—light that heals and reconciles. Zayid’s call is not one of anger, but of awakening; she invites the fearful to look beyond illusion, and the wounded to rise beyond bitterness.
The lesson we must carry forward is this: do not believe the stories that seek to divide you from your fellow human beings. Seek truth not in the headlines, but in the eyes of those you meet. Speak out when prejudice is spoken near you, and listen—truly listen—to the voices of those who have been silenced. If fear is a weapon, then understanding is the shield, and love the remedy. As individuals, we must refuse to be merchants of fear; as communities, we must rebuild the bridges that ignorance has burned.
Therefore, let Maysoon Zayid’s words be a light for all generations: We have been sold a boogeyman, but we need not buy it. The market of fear thrives only when the heart is closed. Open it, and the illusion fades. Defend equality, not as an act of charity, but as an act of faith in our shared humanity. For when we refuse to see others as enemies, we restore to the world its lost truth: that all people, of every faith and every color, are threads in the same divine fabric. And when that truth is remembered, fear will vanish like smoke before the rising sun.
AAdministratorAdministrator
Welcome, honored guests. Please leave a comment, we will respond soon