Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.

Inside a cramped railroad apartment near Jersey City’s Journal Square, two Muslim friends spoke guardedly about other Muslims and Arabs in the neighborhood whom the FBI had interrogated. The two alleged the agency was also spying on the community.

"There’s another name for Jersey City," said Ghulam Khan, an Indian computer programmer who has been living there for more than five years with his wife and two children. "They call this place ‘Terror City.’"

It is a lasting effect of the FBI’s campaign against terrorism on one of the East Coast’s largest Muslim and Arab-American communities—the uncertainty, fear and wild rumor that at times seem to be the antithesis of an open, democratic society.