

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
When powerful men and women with microphones and platforms tell the public that Muslim Americans are enemies, invaders, and less than human, some people listen. Some people act. Two teenagers in San Diego just did.
A hate crime had struck close to home. On the TV screen, more than four dozen police cars, blue lights swirling in a cold, mechanical rhythm. The news ticker crawled across the bottom of the TV screen, sanitizing horror into a newsbreak: police responding to an "incident" in San Diego's Clairemont Mesa neighborhood. An incident. I didn't think much of it at first. Then my phone rang. A friend. I couldn't bring myself to answer. Moments later, a text came through, cryptic, short and to the point: "Check on the Imam, shooting at the Islamic Center."
The world stopped.
I scrolled through my contacts, found the number, and dialed. My heart hammered against my chest with every ring. Then his voice. I closed my eyes. "We are okay. The school children are safe. We evacuated the mosque," Imam Taha said.
I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding. But okay, I would learn in the minutes and hours that followed, that was not the whole story. Three men who had been okay that morning would never be okay again.
The politicians who run their election campaigns casting American Muslims as enemies owe this community more than thoughts and prayers.
Under the steady and visionary leadership of Imam Taha Hassane, the Islamic Center of San Diego has grown into far more than a place of worship. It is a living, breathing hub of culture and education, a place where faith leaders of every denomination and neighbors of every background have always found an open door and a welcoming table. It is, in the truest sense of the word, a community, one that has spent decades building bridges in a city that repaid the generosity with bullets.
In less than 10 minutes, hate stole the life of three human beings. Amin Abdullah, who welcomed you with a curious smile when you came in, a father and a husband. Mansour Kaziha, a husband, father, and grandfather who greeted his community every day from behind the mosque store counter. And Nader Awad, who, as bullets tore through the air around him, ran into the fire to save others. Three men. Three families shattered. A community in mourning.
This hate crime did not occur in isolation. It comes amid an unprecedented and metastasizing culture of Islamophobia in the United States, where politicians have discovered that Muslim hate is a reliable path to election and commentators have built empires of followers on the broken backs of a vilified community. The names attached to this campaign are not fringe figures shouting into the void from dark corners of the internet. They are sitting senators. Elected congressmen. A president of the United States and his closest advisers. They speak from podiums, not podcasts, and have press secretaries, not anonymous accounts. And they have never—not once—been made to answer for what their words have unleashed.
As a presidential candidate, Donald Trump claimed that “Islam hates us." His close associate Laura Loomer wasted no time making the blood of victims useful to her agenda. Hours after the shooting, questioned the shooting calling it “The mosque that was 'supposedly' shot up today… people who attend this mosque want us all to be killed." Three men were murdered, and she called the victims a threat.
Sen. Tommy Tuberville (R-Ala.) says of Islam, “The enemy is inside the gates.” Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) wants Big Brother to monitor Muslim neighborhoods. Congressman Randy Fine (R-Fla.) is the most explicit in spewing hate, declaring, “We need more Islamophobia, not less.”
Imagine the cry if another congressman said we need more Jewish hate.
A Washington Post investigation found that since the beginning of 2025, more than 100 members of Congress have mentioned Muslims or Islam in social media posts, with two-thirds of those posts referencing radical Islam, Sharia law, extremism, or terrorism. According to the Council on American-Islamic Relations, these statements have amplified Islamophobia and created an environment that fosters discrimination against Muslims. Hate and Islamophobia appear to be a winning election strategy for Republican candidates in November.
When powerful men and women with microphones and platforms tell the public that Muslim Americans are enemies, invaders, and less than human, some people listen. Some people act. Two teenagers in San Diego just did.
I will say something that many might find abhorrent, but that I believe with every fiber of my being: The murderers Cain Clark and Caleb Vazquez were also victims. Not of the same order as Amin, Mansour, and Nader, for nothing diminishes what was taken from those three men, their families, and community. But victims, nonetheless. Victims of a political and media ecosystem that fed them a steady dose of dehumanization, paranoia, and hatred of Muslims. They were radicalized by adults who knew exactly what they were doing but faced no accountability for it. Trump, Loomer, Tuberville, Fine, and many others did not pull the trigger, but they loaded the gun with the bullets of hate and pointed it at a place of worship. The blood of five people—including those two teenagers—is on their hands.
The failure is not at the federal level only. In the City of San Diego, Mayor Tod Gloria's performance of solidarity rings hollow against his record of deliberate exclusion. His administration refused to call for even a symbolic ceasefire as genocide unfolded in Gaza. He declined to meet with Muslim and Arab community leaders, fearing the political cost for acknowledging Palestinian life. Most recently, his City Council moved to adopt the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism, a Zionist tool to silence voices critical of Israel’s malevolent policies. Every one of these decisions sent a message to San Diego's Muslim community: We don’t value you unless you’re dead, and your lives are worth less than the political comfort of those in power. That message was heard far beyond City Hall.
That dismissal, that deliberate erasure was incubated, fertilized, watered, and brought to lethal bloom by years of sanctioned dehumanization of Muslim Americans and sent a signal to every hateful actor watching: This community is fair game.
San Diego Mayor Gloria, who dismissed our cries in life, has no standing to console us in death. The politicians who run their election campaigns casting American Muslims as enemies owe this community more than thoughts and prayers.
The blood in San Diego does not belong only to two lost teenagers. It belongs to everyone who fed them, directly or indirectly, the ideology of Muslim hate.
"When leaders traffic in anti-Muslim rhetoric, violence follows," said one Democratic senator. "We must confront Islamophobia with the urgency it demands."
A pair of teenagers allegedly fatally shot three men at a San Diego mosque on Monday before killing themselves in an attack condemned by many—but welcomed or denied by a handful of far-right figures.
The alleged shooters, who the FBI said were 19 and 17 years old, attacked the Islamic Center of San Diego (ICSD) in the Clairemont neighborhood of California's second-largest city, with officers dispatched to the site at 11:43 a.m., according to San Diego Police Chief Scott Wahl. The center contains a mosque and a school where children were studying at the time of the attack.
The chief said one of the victims was a security guard who played a "pivotal" role in preventing more people from being shot at the county's largest mosque just before hundreds of worshippers were expected for afternoon prayers. The guard has been identified as Amin Abdullah.
Wahl said that two shooters—who have yet to be publicly identified—appear to have died from self-inflicted gunshot wounds. Investigators are treating the shooting as a hate crime.
ICSD director Imam Taha Hassane said that all students and staff members were safely evacuated from the facility.
“It is extremely outrageous to target a place of worship,” Hassane added.
The New York Times reported that investigators recovered anti-Islamic material in the vehicle used by the shooting suspects, and that the words "hate speech" were written on one of the guns used in the attack.
President Donald Trump called the shooting a "terrible situation," while some of his supporters denied or seemed to welcome the attack.
Taheen Nizam, director of the San Diego branch of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, said in a statement after the shooting that “we strongly condemn this horrifying act of violence at the Islamic Center of San Diego."
"Our thoughts are with everyone impacted by this attack," Nizam added. "No one should ever fear for their safety while attending prayers or studying at an elementary school. We are working to learn more about this incident and we encourage everyone to keep this community in your prayers.”
The Jewish Democratic Council of America also condemned the attacks. JDCA said that "we're deeply saddened by the shooting at a mosque in San Diego, and our thoughts are with the San Diego Muslim community and all impacted by this tragedy."
"Attacks on our fellow Americans at places of worship are unacceptable," the group added.
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani was among the Democratic leaders who denounced the shooting, posting on X that he is "horrified by the deadly attack," which he called "an apparent act of anti-Muslim violence."
Several Democratic US lawmakers also condemned the attack.
"What happened at the Islamic Center of San Diego today is devastating," Sen. Chris Coons (D-Del.) said on X. "I’m praying for the victims, their families, and their loved ones."
"This is horrifying, and it did not happen in a vacuum," Coons added. "Muslim communities in this country have been demonized and treated as inherently suspect by those willing to fuel fear for power. When leaders traffic in anti-Muslim rhetoric, violence follows. We must confront Islamophobia with the urgency it demands."
Sen. Dick Durbin (D-Ill.) also took to X, writing, "I condemn the deadly shooting at a mosque in San Diego, California."
"Every American should be able to practice their religion without fear of violence," he added. "We must do more to combat anti-Muslim bigotry."
Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.) said she is "devastated to see the news of this deadly attack on a mosque in San Diego."
"Our places of worship should be safe spaces for all people," she added. "We must all stand up and condemn this attack and all forms of Islamophobia, racism, and hatred that are on the rise in our communities."
Rep. Rashida Tlaib (D-Mich.), who is Muslim and the only Palestinian American in Congress, posted on social media: "I am praying for all the families at the Islamic Center of San Diego. My heart breaks every time senseless violence shatters the safety all of our communities deserve."
Gun control advocates also weighed in on the shooting, with March for Our Lives executive director Jaclyn Corin saying, "We reject the idea that this kind of tragedy is inevitable."
"We have the power to build a society where hatred is confronted before it turns deadly, where communities are protected instead of targeted, and where every person can worship freely and safely without fear," Corin added. "This moment demands more than grief. It demands courage, solidarity, and a collective commitment to rejecting the violence, dehumanization, and extremism that continue to endanger our communities."
We are facing a creeping ecological and public health disaster—one that has persisted for decades because of political inaction and a lack of cross-border communication and coordination. But solutions exist.
The intense, acidic stench of raw sewage penetrating your nose and clinging to the back of your throat and yellow “Keep Out, Sewage Polluted Water” warning signs have become far too “normal” for us, southern San Diego, California residents. The Tijuana River once carried stories of binational friendship, but now it carries toxic pollution, including human feces and disease, into the United States.
Originating in Mexico, the Tijuana River crosses the U.S.-Mexico border into an estuary and the ocean, shaping the ecology, culture, and identity of the binational communities it touches. But today, it’s a symbol of failure and neglect. The Tijuana River was recently named the second most endangered river in the United States, and for good reason—the toxic mix of raw sewage, chemical runoff, and bureaucratic inaction threatens not only the health of ecosystems but also the health of Southern California residents.
The river has been a dumping ground for untreated wastewater from Tijuana’s overwhelmed sewage infrastructure and for toxic and sometimes lethal industrial chemicals, including cyanide, primarily from U.S. factories in Mexico seeking lower environmental regulation policies. Thirty-five to 50 million gallons of contaminated water per day make their way through the Tijuana River Estuary, one of the largest remaining coastal wetlands in Southern California, before spilling into the Pacific Ocean.
Communities in southern San Diego County, especially Latinos near the river, are on the frontlines of this crisis. Communities impacted by the Tijuana River pollution include Imperial Beach (50.8% Latino), Coronado (19.4%), National City (65.8%), and Chula Vista (60.4%). People in these cities are suffering from coughing, sore throats, asthma exacerbations, skin rashes and infections, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea, headaches, and fatigue just from living in proximity to the toxic river. Even more troubling, many recreational fishers—again, often Latinos seeking affordable ways to feed their families—continue to fish in waters that carry dangerous levels of pathogens and heavy metals, unaware of the health risks.
The Tijuana River may be endangered, but it is not lost. With continued pressure, investment, and solidarity, it can once again become a source of life.
This isn’t just a neighborhood issue. The pollution affects Navy SEALs training at the Coronado naval base and U.S. Border Patrol agents, who frequently report infections after exposure. Then there’s its effect on our wildlife. The watershed is home to over 370 bird species and multiple endangered species that depend on clean estuarine habitats for nesting and feeding. The toxic flow erodes their ecosystems, disrupts food chains, and jeopardizes biodiversity along the Southern California coast.
We are facing a creeping ecological and public health disaster—one that has persisted for decades because of political inaction and a lack of cross-border communication and coordination. Yet solutions exist—and many are already underway—driven by the leadership of Latino residents who are boldly demanding action.
Across Southern California, Latino communities and advocacy groups are raising their voices, organizing town halls, urging local officials to act, and educating neighbors about the health and environmental impacts of pollution from the Tijuana River. Their efforts underscore the urgent need for federal government resolution and robust international collaboration to invest in wastewater infrastructure, enforce existing treaties, and modernize pollution control systems on both sides of the border.
At the same time, we must strengthen protections under the Clean Water Act, not weaken them as the federal government intends, and declare the Tijuana River pollution a national emergency due to the environmental disaster impacting public health. Protecting and restoring the Tijuana River will require viewing it as a shared responsibility between nations and communities. Clean water and health should not depend on your ZIP code or nationality. A river that knows no borders should not suffer from a lack of cross-border care.
Despite the daunting challenges, there is hope. The voices rising from Latino communities in southern San Diego are powerful and persistent, with ever-growing resonance. Their advocacy, led by newly sworn-in San Diego County Supervisor Paloma Aguirre, is making a difference. Federal funds have trickled into the region. Joint U.S.-Mexico commissions are revisiting decades-old agreements. And more Americans beyond California are finally beginning to see this crisis for what it is—a national emergency. Hispanic Access Foundation’s advocacy toolkit provides effective strategies to help address this issue.
The Tijuana River may be endangered, but it is not lost. With continued pressure, investment, and solidarity, it can once again become a source of life. The fight to restore this river is not just a campaign to clean a waterway and entry into the ocean; it is a movement to ensure that every community, regardless of language, location, or ethnicity, can breathe clean air, swim in safe water, and raise their children free from environmental harm.
We owe it to the river. We owe it to each other.