Many have taken incredulous positions; that the East and West were always on a collision course, that Muslim loathing and envy of the West could only be assuaged by a despotic outburst of violence, that Islam's trajectory is always one of violence, that America's uncompromising, merciless imperialist's drive justifies any and all types of violence against it. But these hateful narratives existed well before September 11 and will, undoubtedly, continue far beyond this 10th anniversary.

The response to September 11 indicates that it was primarily understood as a religious phenomenon: that it was only made possible by the presence of Islam and its followers.

In situating terrorism by Muslims as a problem of religion, two immediate assumptions were made: firstly, that the identification, regulation and control of Muslims would ensure the safety of our nation; secondly, and perhaps more devastating to our culture as a nation, that if religion was the problem, it was also the solution.

A profound sense of grief has persistently defined that day for me. Not only for the unjustifiable loss of life, but also, over the decade since the event, for the loss of my belief in Australia as a nation where the law assured equality and protection irrespective of one's cultural religious background. In Australia, the consequence of the first assumption was entirely predictable: Muslims were seen as an internal threat, necessitating surveillance, incarceration and creation of laws which deferred the rights of those under investigation.

The criminalisation of Muslims identified them not only as dangerous but also as unwanted members of society. In addition to the camps of unwanted refugees, Australian society divided into camps of acceptable and unacceptable communities - who belonged in Australia and who did not. Each person being allocated an increasingly narrow definition of what it meant to be Muslim or what it meant to be Australian.

Muslims understood their place in this newly divided society most keenly in their everyday existence. Many experienced violence and abuse, others were spat on, while women had their hijabs forcibly removed. Research continues to support what many Muslims already know: that they are generally denied jobs because of their religious identity and are considered generally the least desirable members of Australian society.

Religious conservative forces viewed the second assumption, that religion is the solution to the violence of 9/11, as an opportunity to insert conservative religious doctrine into public debate and government policy - for those who are sceptical, the debate about the right of same-sex couples to marry amply demonstrates this reality. Australia should never be a country in which the personal liberties of its citizens are curtailed by conservative religious forces.

In the beginning, interfaith and faith-based initiatives, despite being the domain of the religious conservatives and almost entirely excluding women, appeared to have some positive effect. But over time, the need receded and people didn't want to see themselves exclusively in religious terms. The vast majority of Muslims wanted to move back into the Australian fold and to be treated equally.

Additionally government either shifted or failed to invest vital resources into basic welfare services; as a Muslim, you were more likely to receive government support if you wanted to host a dinner for religious leaders than if you wanted to establish a service for homelessness or a refuge for Muslim women escaping domestic violence.

Nonetheless, interfaith and faith-based initiates remain firmly entrenched in government policy. Conservative religious groups maintained their presence in the public space and their influence on our highest levels of government, as noted by sociology professor Andrew Jakubowicz, of the University of Technology Sydney, and many others.

While Western countries invest in interfaith dialogues and religious initiatives to resolve matters of conflict and extremism, Muslim majority countries are increasingly trying to limit the influence of religion, instead investing in infrastructure, education, health care and employment.

Muslim countries have learned the hard way that alienation from society comes from inequality and disadvantage, and it is that which sets people off on the road to violence. I believe religion to be important, but religion was never intended as an antidote to all social ills, nor has the interpretation and practice of religion always served the public good.

A decade on from September 11, the growing influence of religion on our public space and over our government can be seen as an ongoing legacy of the terrorist attacks.

The understanding of September 11 as a religious phenomenon and the subsequent increasing role of religion in Australian society will not protect us from another September 11; but it can potentially weaken our commitment to human diversity.

If we want religion to have a greater presence in our society, we have to ask: do we want a religion that preaches exclusion, division and domination in the service of outdated notions of what a good society should be or do we want a religion that supports a society in which everyone is equally valued and has a place?

Joumanah El Matrah is executive director of the Australian Muslim Women's Centre for Human Rights.