Dr. Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera
In 2025, the Muslim Wellness Foundation (MWF) and the Institute for Social Policy and Understanding (ISPU) published a comprehensive qualitative study, Perceptions of American Muslims and Islam Among Black Christians. The study investigates how Black American Christians form attitudes toward American Muslims and Black Muslims specifically and was conducted between March 2020 and June 2021. Through 40 focus group participants and six in-depth interviews with Black Christian and Christian-adjacent individuals, this study illustrates the complex, often contradictory ways that religious identity, racial solidarity, media influence, and historical memory shape perceptions of Muslims within Black American communities. (The study methodology is available here.)
Findings from our study show that participants overwhelmingly located “American Muslim” in a Black Muslim frame. For example:
We go further in this analysis to examine a key finding we call the Islamophobia Index Paradox. Findings from ISPU’s 2019 American Muslim Poll show that Black Americans scored highest on the 2019 Islamophobia Index, yet simultaneously 35% of Black American Christians reported favorable opinions of Muslims, and 51% reported having no opinion at all. In other words, “I like the Muslims I know” coexists with “I still believe a lot of troubling things about Muslims in general.” This reflects a gap between lived relationships and the deep narrative, theological, and media structures that continue to shape how “Islam” is imagined. This is the paradox: personal familiarity should, in theory, reduce prejudice, but among Black Christians in this study, familiarity often coexisted with persistent suspicion, fear, or theological dismissal of Islam as a “false” or “lesser” faith. The result is a split consciousness where Muslims are experienced as beloved individuals and co‑strugglers, while “Islam” remains coded as dangerous, deficient, or untrustworthy in the abstract. That split is held in place by seven reinforcing and interwoven sociopolitical, theological, and psychological factors summarized below.
On the theological side, participants described high familiarity with Muslims (often Nation of Islam aesthetics or symbols) but low religious literacy about Islam. For example, one female participant noted:
“And then my cousin, he’s Muslim… I didn’t know too much about the religion, about the belief and everything.”
Deeply ingrained Christian exceptionalism and exclusivism also play a major role: participants were taught from an early age that Christianity is the only true path and that other faiths are spiritually dangerous or misguided. Christian privilege went largely unexamined with Christian norms treated as universal and not recognized as a form of dominance. One female participant describes her upbringing in a conservative Christian church:
“And so one of the things that I was sort of indoctrinated to do as a young child was to pray against false religions and not just pray, but actively protest. So if there were Muslim communities, we hunted them out so that we could go and pray and tell them that Jesus is the only way, and that was a sign of your faith.”
Psychologically, some participants recounted unprocessed family ruptures when relatives or friends converted to Islam, leaving lingering hurt and feelings of betrayal. One female participant recalled an experience with a friend converting while they were both in seminary:
“I was very sad that when one of my… seminary sisters and mentors, she was a couple of years ahead of me, I really respected, admired, and her preaching shaped me in a very profound way. She converted to Islam.”
Participants named 9/11 and its aftermath as their first intense exposure to Islam, cementing Muslims in memory as potential threats. One male participant noted:
“…most of the conversation just in general… in reference to Muslims has really been post-9/11 conversation about Muslims in the context of—of terrorism”
Further, for many, the Nation of Islam functions as the primary cognitive anchor for “American Muslim”, shaping expectations even when they know other Muslims exist. One male participant responded with the following when asked what comes to mind when he hears the term “American Muslim”:
“Well, when I hear the term American Muslim, I always think of the Nation of Islam…”
Sociopolitically, media and pop culture emerged as the primary source of information about Muslims, with participants emphasizing persistent images of Muslims as terrorists or extremists, and the near complete absence of “ordinary” Black Muslim life on screen. One male participant commented about media portrayals:
“…Every movie where the American soldier is the hero, the enemy is always some Muslim group in the Middle East or Northern Africa.”
A female participant followed up by noting:
“…I feel like he said it all. What I will say, though, is that I don’t know that I see very many representations of Black Muslims in the media. I feel like when they talk about Muslims in really any form of media, it is specifically those from the Middle East or of Middle Eastern descent.”
These factors together explain how Black Christians can experience Muslims as beloved kin and partners in the struggle for liberation, while still endorsing generalized stereotypes about Muslims as violent, misogynist, or un-American when asked in abstract survey terms. The Islamophobia Index Paradox reflects a nuanced and complicated reality: the elevated scores on the Index are the result of structural distance masquerading as familiarity. In other words, the data show that many Black Christians live, worship, or organize near Muslims, recognizing Black Muslims in particular. Yet this familiarity is largely observational and symbolic rather than relational or theological. People see Muslims, hear about Muslims, and consume constant media images of Muslims, but rarely move into sustained dialogue, study, or shared spiritual life. That high familiarity paired with low engagement produces an attitude of benign neglect: Muslims are not necessarily perceived as enemies, but also not taken seriously as conversation partners in faith. High familiarity without depth means many respondents know Muslims are “there,” but engage superficially with them.
At the same time, Christian privilege–the unearned social, legal, and cultural advantages that Christians experience in Christian-dominant societies–and normativity mean Christianity is treated as the default; there is little structural incentive to learn Islam on its own terms. Media saturation fills that vacuum with terrorist tropes and one-dimensional storylines, which are then filtered through theological anxiety and the persistent (yet erroneous) belief that acknowledgement of religious diversity within Black communities erodes or undermines Black unity or racial solidarity. Additionally, gender invisibility of Muslim women narrows the mental picture to a small set of hyper-visible men. Thus, while Black Christians may appear to have a large network of Black Muslims, this is only at the surface-level. The number of actual deep connections with Muslims is more limited due to Christian privilege and the gender invisibility of Black Muslim women.
Taken together, these factors create social and theological distance rather than active malice or hostility. However, when Black Christians respond to broad survey items about Muslims, that benign neglect shows up as agreement with generalized negative statements—registering on the Islamophobia Index as bias. In summary, Black Christians can be proximate to, and even in solidarity with, Muslims while still scoring relatively high on an index of Islamophobic stereotypes. This also underscores the value of qualitative research to unpack the nuance within quantitative results.
To address this paradox and further reduce Islamophobia, we recommend the following:
These efforts cannot be done in isolation. Rather, Black clergy, theologians, organizers, and Muslim leaders should co-create Days of Learning, utilizing curricula, ritual, and organizing practices that honor Black religious diversity and strengthen Black Christian–Black Muslim solidarity.
ISPU and the Muslim Wellness Foundation have hosted multiple Day of Learning events, beginning in 2023 and facilitated by primary investigator Dr. Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera and Imam Tariq El-Amin. During these sessions, Christian church and community leaders learn about Islam, discuss Black Christian privilege, and foster positive Christian-Muslim relationships.
To organize a Day of Learning in your community, contact info@ispu.org.
Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera, PsyD
Primary Investigator
Dr. Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera is the Founding Executive Director of Muslim Wellness Foundation (MWF), a nonprofit organization dedicated to promoting healing and emotional well-being in the American Muslim community through dialogue, education and training. Through Muslim Wellness Foundation, Dr. Oseguera has established the Omar ibn Said Institute for Black Muslim Studies & Research, the annual Black Muslim Psychology Conference and the Deeply Rooted Emerging Leaders Fellowship for Black Muslim young adults.
In 2025, the Muslim Wellness Foundation (MWF) and the Institute for Social Policy and Understanding (ISPU) published a comprehensive qualitative study, Perceptions of American Muslims and Islam Among Black Christians. The study investigates how Black American Christians form attitudes toward American Muslims and Black Muslims specifically and was conducted between March 2020 and June 2021. Through 40 focus group participants and six in-depth interviews with Black Christian and Christian-adjacent individuals, this study illustrates the complex, often contradictory ways that religious identity, racial solidarity, media influence, and historical memory shape perceptions of Muslims within Black American communities. (The study methodology is available here.)
Findings from our study show that participants overwhelmingly located “American Muslim” in a Black Muslim frame. For example:
We go further in this analysis to examine a key finding we call the Islamophobia Index Paradox. Findings from ISPU’s 2019 American Muslim Poll show that Black Americans scored highest on the 2019 Islamophobia Index, yet simultaneously 35% of Black American Christians reported favorable opinions of Muslims, and 51% reported having no opinion at all. In other words, “I like the Muslims I know” coexists with “I still believe a lot of troubling things about Muslims in general.” This reflects a gap between lived relationships and the deep narrative, theological, and media structures that continue to shape how “Islam” is imagined. This is the paradox: personal familiarity should, in theory, reduce prejudice, but among Black Christians in this study, familiarity often coexisted with persistent suspicion, fear, or theological dismissal of Islam as a “false” or “lesser” faith. The result is a split consciousness where Muslims are experienced as beloved individuals and co‑strugglers, while “Islam” remains coded as dangerous, deficient, or untrustworthy in the abstract. That split is held in place by seven reinforcing and interwoven sociopolitical, theological, and psychological factors summarized below.
On the theological side, participants described high familiarity with Muslims (often Nation of Islam aesthetics or symbols) but low religious literacy about Islam. For example, one female participant noted:
“And then my cousin, he’s Muslim… I didn’t know too much about the religion, about the belief and everything.”
Deeply ingrained Christian exceptionalism and exclusivism also play a major role: participants were taught from an early age that Christianity is the only true path and that other faiths are spiritually dangerous or misguided. Christian privilege went largely unexamined with Christian norms treated as universal and not recognized as a form of dominance. One female participant describes her upbringing in a conservative Christian church:
“And so one of the things that I was sort of indoctrinated to do as a young child was to pray against false religions and not just pray, but actively protest. So if there were Muslim communities, we hunted them out so that we could go and pray and tell them that Jesus is the only way, and that was a sign of your faith.”
Psychologically, some participants recounted unprocessed family ruptures when relatives or friends converted to Islam, leaving lingering hurt and feelings of betrayal. One female participant recalled an experience with a friend converting while they were both in seminary:
“I was very sad that when one of my… seminary sisters and mentors, she was a couple of years ahead of me, I really respected, admired, and her preaching shaped me in a very profound way. She converted to Islam.”
Participants named 9/11 and its aftermath as their first intense exposure to Islam, cementing Muslims in memory as potential threats. One male participant noted:
“…most of the conversation just in general… in reference to Muslims has really been post-9/11 conversation about Muslims in the context of—of terrorism”
Further, for many, the Nation of Islam functions as the primary cognitive anchor for “American Muslim”, shaping expectations even when they know other Muslims exist. One male participant responded with the following when asked what comes to mind when he hears the term “American Muslim”:
“Well, when I hear the term American Muslim, I always think of the Nation of Islam…”
Sociopolitically, media and pop culture emerged as the primary source of information about Muslims, with participants emphasizing persistent images of Muslims as terrorists or extremists, and the near complete absence of “ordinary” Black Muslim life on screen. One male participant commented about media portrayals:
“…Every movie where the American soldier is the hero, the enemy is always some Muslim group in the Middle East or Northern Africa.”
A female participant followed up by noting:
“…I feel like he said it all. What I will say, though, is that I don’t know that I see very many representations of Black Muslims in the media. I feel like when they talk about Muslims in really any form of media, it is specifically those from the Middle East or of Middle Eastern descent.”
These factors together explain how Black Christians can experience Muslims as beloved kin and partners in the struggle for liberation, while still endorsing generalized stereotypes about Muslims as violent, misogynist, or un-American when asked in abstract survey terms. The Islamophobia Index Paradox reflects a nuanced and complicated reality: the elevated scores on the Index are the result of structural distance masquerading as familiarity. In other words, the data show that many Black Christians live, worship, or organize near Muslims, recognizing Black Muslims in particular. Yet this familiarity is largely observational and symbolic rather than relational or theological. People see Muslims, hear about Muslims, and consume constant media images of Muslims, but rarely move into sustained dialogue, study, or shared spiritual life. That high familiarity paired with low engagement produces an attitude of benign neglect: Muslims are not necessarily perceived as enemies, but also not taken seriously as conversation partners in faith. High familiarity without depth means many respondents know Muslims are “there,” but engage superficially with them.
At the same time, Christian privilege–the unearned social, legal, and cultural advantages that Christians experience in Christian-dominant societies–and normativity mean Christianity is treated as the default; there is little structural incentive to learn Islam on its own terms. Media saturation fills that vacuum with terrorist tropes and one-dimensional storylines, which are then filtered through theological anxiety and the persistent (yet erroneous) belief that acknowledgement of religious diversity within Black communities erodes or undermines Black unity or racial solidarity. Additionally, gender invisibility of Muslim women narrows the mental picture to a small set of hyper-visible men. Thus, while Black Christians may appear to have a large network of Black Muslims, this is only at the surface-level. The number of actual deep connections with Muslims is more limited due to Christian privilege and the gender invisibility of Black Muslim women.
Taken together, these factors create social and theological distance rather than active malice or hostility. However, when Black Christians respond to broad survey items about Muslims, that benign neglect shows up as agreement with generalized negative statements—registering on the Islamophobia Index as bias. In summary, Black Christians can be proximate to, and even in solidarity with, Muslims while still scoring relatively high on an index of Islamophobic stereotypes. This also underscores the value of qualitative research to unpack the nuance within quantitative results.
To address this paradox and further reduce Islamophobia, we recommend the following:
These efforts cannot be done in isolation. Rather, Black clergy, theologians, organizers, and Muslim leaders should co-create Days of Learning, utilizing curricula, ritual, and organizing practices that honor Black religious diversity and strengthen Black Christian–Black Muslim solidarity.
ISPU and the Muslim Wellness Foundation have hosted multiple Day of Learning events, beginning in 2023 and facilitated by primary investigator Dr. Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera and Imam Tariq El-Amin. During these sessions, Christian church and community leaders learn about Islam, discuss Black Christian privilege, and foster positive Christian-Muslim relationships.
To organize a Day of Learning in your community, contact info@ispu.org.
Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera, PsyD
Primary Investigator
Dr. Kameelah Mu’Min Oseguera is the Founding Executive Director of Muslim Wellness Foundation (MWF), a nonprofit organization dedicated to promoting healing and emotional well-being in the American Muslim community through dialogue, education and training. Through Muslim Wellness Foundation, Dr. Oseguera has established the Omar ibn Said Institute for Black Muslim Studies & Research, the annual Black Muslim Psychology Conference and the Deeply Rooted Emerging Leaders Fellowship for Black Muslim young adults.
