Standing 5-foot-2 and wearing a Muslim head scarf, Khalilah Sabra doesn't look like a firebrand. 

But the diminutive woman has become the voice for Muslims in the Triangle, and over the past few years has shown she will not be cowed.

She recently took on a spokesman for the U.S. Department of Homeland Security who came to the Triangle to try to smooth relations with Muslims. When the official described to Muslims the new steps his office was taking to ease their security hassles at airports and to respond to complaints about detentions, Sabra was the first to get up and speak.

"It sounds like Habitat for Humanity," Sabra scowled, conveying that she did not accept the rosy picture he had painted. "Don't you think the laws are directed at Middle Easterners and Middle Eastern-looking people?"

Sabra, who converted to Islam 26 years ago, has emerged as one of the loudest defenders of her faith, locking arms with those who have been harassed, intimidated or discriminated against. As the director of the local Muslim American Society's Freedom Foundation, she sees her role as ushering in a new era of Muslim civil rights activism.

If Sept. 11, 2001, woke up Americans to the reality of Islamic terrorism on their own soil, it woke up Sabra to what she saw as prejudice against Muslim American immigrants. Sabra felt uniquely qualified to serve as an advocate. She is American-born, a convert from Roman Catholicism. And she has lived abroad -- in Pakistan in 1989, and in Lebanon, from 1995 to 1997 with her husband and family.

If anyone understood the complexities of the Muslim Americans, she did.

So Sabra, 41, threw herself into community action.

"The day of isolationism is over," she said. "It's time to get involved."

A lack of participation

But Sabra is not only critical of U.S. policies that deprive Muslims of their liberties, she is also critical of her own faith community.

In the days and months after 9/11, Sabra saw her religion vilified in public and few within the local community rising to defend it. There were no Muslims on the local school board, no Muslims on the City Council, and only one Muslim in the state legislature.

"It was our fault," said Sabra, adding, "We were not involved in the realm of politics or community services, and others defined us."

But Muslim Americans had more than an image problem. Sabra began to hear stories of civil liberties denied. They included women turned down for jobs because of their head scarves, and permanent residents whose citizenship applications were permanently on hold.

As the wife of a Cisco engineer with a comfortable salary, Sabra began challenging fellow Muslims by example. She spoke in churches. She encouraged fellow Muslims to register to vote. She began interfaith conversations with local Jews. She marched in the NAACP's rally in downtown Raleigh against racism, poverty and war.

At one event, state Sen. Larry Shaw of Fayetteville heard her speak and later walked up to her. "Sister, who are you?" asked Shaw, the state's only Muslim legislator. Sabra has since adopted Shaw as a mentor.

"We're trying to educate the Islamic community to come of age in mainstream America," said Shaw, a Democrat representing Cumberland County. "If people understand there's not a dime's worth of difference between us, they will embrace you."

The work hasn't been easy, least of all in a community whose members aren't used to speaking out or getting involved, and in many cases view any kind of activism as compromising their values and corrupting their faith.

To Muslims who hold that view, Sabra offers a pointed response.

"If you want things to change, you're going to have to speak up," she said. "And if you feel things are so terrible that you can't speak up, maybe you should chose another country to live in."

Her conversion to Islam

Sabra's activism can be traced to her childhood in Los Angeles as the daughter of a white Navy officer and a black woman. Her birth name was Christina Couzin, and even as a teenager, she was drawn to revolutionary ideas.

In high school, she invited a communist to speak to her Roman Catholic high school class. After graduating, she met a group of Muslims at the local mall. One month later -- and much to her late parents' chagrin -- Christina converted to Islam and became Khalilah.

She soon met Muslims from Sudan, Saudi Arabia and other parts of the Middle East at a mosque near UCLA, and her eyes were opened to the cultural and historical circumstances of Muslims around the world. In 1988, Abdullah Yusuf Azzam, the godfather of jihad and onetime mentor to Osama bin Laden, spoke at her mosque.

Azzam came to the United States to recruit fighters and humanitarian volunteers to help the mujahedeen in Afghanistan in its war against the Soviet invaders. A charismatic leader, he was at the time supported by the U.S. government. Sabra was impressed and eventually agreed to go with him to Afghanistan.

For about a year, she lived in Peshawar, Pakistan, and made regular trips to nearby Afghan refugee camps delivering food and medicine. In 1989, Azzam was assassinated and Sabra returned to the United States. But her days of international travel were far from over.

In Los Angeles, she married Jihad Sabra, a Lebanese man and a U.S. citizen, and the couple moved to Lebanon, where Sabra saw firsthand the consequences of the Israeli and Syrian occupations of that country. It was after a funeral for a child killed by Israeli bombs when it first occurred to Sabra that she might effect change in the Middle East by lobbying her own government to change its policies toward Israel.

"As an American my voice might be heard louder than the Lebanese who suffers," she said.

Sabra, her husband and five children arrived in Raleigh one week before the events of 9/11 when Jihad Sabra was reassigned to Cisco's Research Triangle office.

Her political views, she acknowledges, have evolved. She used to support armed resistance to aggression, and now believes in dialogue and peaceful resistance.

"My opinions 15 years ago were very much different than they are today," she said. "As years go by there has to be adaptation."

But one mission has always been at the center of her beliefs: Helping the underprivileged, whoever they may be.

"She's an amazing, passionate prophetic voice who is willing to stand up and speak the truth as she sees it," said Rabbi Eric Solomon of Beth Meyer Synagogue in Raleigh. Solomon sharply disagrees with Sabra about the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians, but has nonetheless been able to work with her as part of an interfaith coalition to save Darfur, the Sudanese region where thousands have died.

In the Muslim community, where political activism is just getting a toehold, Sabra's efforts are increasingly appreciated.

"We need to be a lot more involved and a lot more engaged in American society," said Nabih Kadri, who owns a courier service in Raleigh. "When you see someone like Khalilah taking action, it's a blessing to the Muslim community."