Almost a year ago, I was standing in line at the Fiumicino Airport in Rome, waiting to get through the main security check. Having guzzled a hefty serving of espresso and pastry, my patience was challenged, yet alert as I was, people-watching soon occupied me.

Crowded by tourists, adventurers, policemen and security guards, the vestibule of the airport provided an entertaining show of social dynamics. Caught in thoughts about life and the nature of it, I suddenly heard faintly what sounded like a scream.

I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the sound. Everything seemed normal. I continued observing, yet a strange feeling loomed.

No more than a minute later, from behind the security check, I saw two flight attendants walking quickly and conversing nervously toward the checkpoint.

Then, without warning, both of them started running and yelling “Get out! Get out!”

The crowd of people stood bewildered for a moment. Then a moment later, after someone exclaimed that there was a bomb nearby, frenzy and panic ensued.

People started screaming and yelling, running toward the exits. Consequently, the exits became jammed with bodies.

People fell to the ground, got stuck and pushed one another to get outside.

All the while, I was wondering what everyone was thinking: “Is this a terrorist attack?” “Is a bomb going to go off?” “Are we going to die?”

Now, in retrospect, I have asked myself one question: “If people did think it was a terrorist attack, who was the terrorist thought to be?”

More importantly, what comes to your mind when you think of a “terrorist?”

I would guess that in answering such questions, a reasonable portion of respondents will say Islam or Muslims. If indeed it does, another question awaits: Why?

For many, I would guess that thoughts of jihad and screaming fanatics, foreseeing a paradisiacal destiny, come to mind to support the notion.

But, is this what Islam is really about?

If one is to answer the question, it seems proper that an objective understanding of Islam is first achieved.

The Prophet Muhammad, after the Night of Power, humbly and steadfastly preached a message that was profoundly democratic. During an age when overindulgence and a credulity-saturated Meccan society, Muhammad proclaimed equality in the face of oppressive, ruling nobility.

Consequently, persecution ensued. Muhammad was pelted with stones, struck with sticks and left to starve in prison. Yet, in the face of such, Muhammad stood by his message, gained more followers and alarmed the nobility further.

Thereafter, in the year of 622, Muhammad took to the city of Yathrib, later known as Medina, in a migration known in Arabic as the Hijra and thereupon became a humble, remarkable statesman.

Muhammad instilled harmony and cooperation among the citizenry, that in turn enchanted people from every part of Arabia. This resulted in the second year of the Hijra, the Meccan army, many times larger than the Medinese, setting out to pummel Medina.

Victory went to Medina, but a couple of years later the Meccans stormed back to lay siege to Medina.

Again, the Meccans failed; Muhammad’s former persecutors lay in defeat.

When one speaks of jihad, it may suit well to remember the history of Islam.

Following an encounter with the Meccans, Muhammad said of jihad, which literally means exertion, “We have returned from the lesser jihad to face the greater jihad.”

The lesser jihad in this case meant the battle against an external enemy, and the greater meant the battle against evil within oneself.

In this sense, it can be seen that strenuous effort (jihad) was put forth against oppression in the fight for an equality that nurtured an inner peace.

Peace is an ideal of Islam, evident in the standard Muslim greeting as-salamu ‘alaykum (“Peace be upon you”) and such an effort for it stands as a worthy struggle.