By Chris Thornton
Washington File Special Correspondent

Boston -- In the center of Cambridge's Harvard Square, local Arab Americans gather around café tables to argue politics and bang chess pieces late into a warm summer night. In nearby Watertown, a popular market serves as the neighborhood souk, its shelves crammed with Middle Eastern specialties and Arabic newspapers. One town over, veiled schoolgirls scamper and giggle their way home in middle-class Newton.

Immigrants from the Middle East represent an array of faiths, nationalities, and ethnicities that add complexity to the American mosaic: Palestinians from Jordan. Bedouins from the Persian Gulf. Algerian Berbers. Syrians, Saudis, and Moroccans. Maronites, Sunnis, and Shia. A puzzling question of assimilation arrived with these immigrants: How can people of such diversity be encouraged to participate in the civic and political life of a country where a single national identity is still an ideal, and an elusive one?

Eleni Varitimos, chief of staff for Massachusetts State Senator Steve Baddour, a Lebanese American, radiates with enthusiasm when she address this topic.

"We can do more. Legislators can get to know their community leaders. When they drive through their districts they should be aware of demographic changes -- ethnic food markets, the opening of new businesses by immigrant proprietors -- anything that shows that the composition of their district is changing," she said.

Despite the efforts on the part of politicians, Varitimos said a positive response from Arab Americans has been slow in coming.

"I wish Arab Americans would take more time to familiarize themselves with the political process," says Ms. Varitimos. "They are distracted by matters of foreign policy, when they would develop their political skills by working on the issues that affect their daily lives."

Varitimos said that once Arab Americans become involved in American civic life, they would learn the lesson of patience and persistence.

"Government is like society," she said. "It has a history, and change can be slow."

Varitimos said this would lead to a second lesson: that visibility translates into influence. She advises all constituents to be a constant presence in legislators' offices, because of the all-important lesson three: "The squeaky wheel does get the grease."

Robert Karam, a politically active member of the Lebanese community in Fall River, Massachusetts, said learning how to operate the machinery of the political system is key to success. He cites the rise to prominence of Irish and Jewish Americans over the last century as models of the successful immigrant experience.

"They didn't isolate themselves in 'silos of self-interest.' They became involved in the issues that connected them to the rest of society. They learned how to think like Americans, and eventually became major forces in business and government," he said.

One underused tool of Arab Americans, Karam believes, is politicians themselves.

"They should learn how to use their legislators," he said. "They are the 'road signs' that Arab Americans drive past. They are more receptive than many people believe. You approach them with a project, a proposal, something that will benefit your community, and they will listen."

He has experience in this. With the help of Congressman Barney Frank, he has been working to obtain federal funding to build a new campus in the Bekaa Valley for Lebanon's Holy Spirit University.

Ashraf Hegazy, a member of the Boston chapter of the Network of Arab American Professionals, said Arab Americans' political participation is beginning with second-generation Arab Americans.

"They can balance assimilation and cultural identification, for they share the concerns of other professionals, like the loss of jobs overseas. But they also want to correct a distorted image of Arabs in American society," he said.

Most important, what they do not share is the sense of futility and long shadow of fear that their parents' generation, gained through firsthand experience with corrupt and dictatorial regimes, associate with political activity, Hegazy said.

Hegazy is concerned that the major political parties in the United States are missing an opportunity to draw this group into civic life.

"It has interests that would appeal to both parties, and young Arab Americans have no fixed party allegiances. For action on jobs and civil rights, they might look to the Democrats. For lower taxes and smaller government, they could lean to the Republicans," he said.

Hegazy encourages any of the customary methods citizens have used to initiate change: writing op-ed pieces to local newspapers, meeting with elected representatives, and -- most important -- voting. Then, a "trickle up" phenomenon can occur.

Once older generations, who have already acquired social status and economic security, see positive results from their children's experience, they can be more easily persuaded to use their greater influence.

Massachusetts State Senator Thomas George, of Lebanese ancestry, said that in addition to generational change, just the sheer numbers of immigrants from Arab countries will have a positive impact on political participation.

"Immigration is going to increase, and Americans from the Middle East will experience more of American life. A doctor will be nominated to serve on a school board; a businessman may want to fight for a change in the tax code. This can only bring them closer to their communities," George said.

Sherif el-Wakil, chancellor professor of mechanical engineering at the University of Massachusetts, Dartmouth, views the American political system as an intricate network of roads that a younger generation will navigate with greater confidence and familiarity. Is religious difference a wedge inevitably separating Muslim Americans from the larger society? "Not at all," he says "Religion is belief, not lifestyle. It becomes a problem when it is expressed as a way of life, when the line between religion and culture becomes blurred."

Before the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, the Turkish population of Methuen, Massachusetts, was gradually becoming a visible presence in the neighborhoods. Veiled women played with their children in parks; men with unfamiliar accents began working the counters of convenience stores. To prevent any rise in tension, the president of the mosque invited all of Methuen to its annual picnic. The message was simple: Get to know us. We are not so different. The simple gesture was reciprocated. After the attacks, the people of Methuen rallied around the local Turks, encouraging them to report any incident of abuse or harassment.

The participation of Arab Americans in civic life is the latest installment in the larger story of the U.S. immigrant experience, and it shares similar themes: it begins in the community; it takes time; real progress is measured in generations, not success or failure on individual issues. But movement is apparent and welcome.