I bought the hat because it made me laugh. But when I finally get around to taking it out of its plastic wrapper and wearing it in public, I don’t expect everyone to be amused.

From a distance, the white uppercase lettering against a bright red backdrop is enough to instill fear or affinity, depending on the passerby’s politics. Up close, the cap could trigger many non-Muslims and non-Arabic speakers who have been programmed to panic when when they see or hear certain words from one of the most spoken languages in the world.

“Some people love it. Islamophobes hate it. Win, win!” one woman wrote on Etsy of the mixed reactions to her parody MAGA trucker hat that reads, “Made You Look Allahu Akbar.”

“The amount of bozos complimenting me, then immediately taking it back after reading for once in their lives, is worth absolutely every penny!” another satisfied customer relayed of his experience.

“A great hat, a really great hat,” quipped a third.

The Pakistani American who created the $25 cap didn’t set out to throw shade at the president or his supporters, some of whom he counts as friends and neighbors in Bel Air, Maryland.

Rather, the artist, who goes by the nickname Farosty, was interested in prompting conversations with a statement piece that “marries” concepts that aren’t normally aligned — the “Make America Great Again” aesthetic with the Arabic phrase for “God is great.”

What the hat signifies is up to the person wearing it, said Farosty, who recently debuted a slightly more expensive “dad hat” version of the accessory bearing his signature.

“It is MAGA mockery for some,” the 29-year-old told me. “For others, it symbolizes faith above politics. And for many Muslims, it’s a reclaiming of their takbeerat (chanting of “Allahu Akbar”) as a positive” instead of a co-opted expression tied to violence.

The artist who goes by the name “Farosty” wearing one of his signature “Made You Look Allahu Akbar” MAGA parody hats.

Like me, Samah Choudhury also takes her hat off to Farosty for cracking her up.

“It is a work of art,” because it can speak to larger complicated issues through the “dissonance and incongruity it creates,” the faculty member at the University of Chicago’s Department of Race, Diaspora, and Indigeneity said of the hat. “But the entry point is humor.”

Muslims have always been able to take a joke, as Farosty, Choudhury, I and many others who share our faith know.

Making sense of a hostile world

We have no choice, or else we’d cry every time we consumed the news and read bigoted and patronizing social media hot-takes on current events related to Muslims by Trump and others.

“Humor lets us make sense of the hostile world around us, and makes it easier to live in its midst,” Choudhury said.

Choudhury came up with the idea for her upcoming book, tentatively titled “Stand Up Citizen: American Muslim Humor and the Politics of Secularity,” after she noticed a handful of male Muslim comedians gaining traction with mainstream audiences during Trump’s first term.

More than two decades ago, comedians who touched on their Muslim identity and cultural backgrounds were seen as “niche” performers who mostly drew Muslim crowds. When a family friend of mine, Azhar Usman, left his job as a lawyer to focus on his comedy career back then, all our parents thought he had lost his mind.

“A lot of startup founders and investor types who were involved in the dotcom business I was part of while I was in law school made it big and became filthy rich, but they were still miserable. Every lawyer who interviewed me was the same,” Usman said.

He was still doing comedy as a side hustle around 9/11, when a profound quote about the power of art changed the trajectory of his life.

“I heard someone say, ‘politics demonizes. Art humanizes.’ It really resonated with me,” said Usman who has worked on critically acclaimed projects with his numerous collaborators, including Mo Amer, Hasan Minhaj and Ramy Youssef.

Usman, who appears in the just-released Hulu comedy series “Deli Boys,” said he loves Farosty’s prank hat and sent me a picture of himself wearing his own 2017 MAGA gag hat that demands, “Make Allah God Again” when I mentioned what I was writing about.

Classic.

Comedian, actor, screenwriter and producer Azhar Usman in his 2017 MAGA gag hat that reads, “Make Allah God Again.”

Farosty has designed similar satirical merchandise, including a desi twist on John Deere apparel — a camouflage cap with the Urdu word jaan emblazoned across it. Under the Urdu script for the term — literally “life” but also used to address a beloved — is the English translation of “dear” in parenthesis.

Clever as that camo hat is, Farosty’s MAGA-inspired caps are his most sought-after products by a mostly non-Muslim clientele here and abroad.

Now that a larger audience is laughing with us, instead of at us, we have their ears when we tell our stories, which can foster empathy.

And if the humor we dispense doesn’t serve as a “social lubricant,” leading to communal joy and understanding, the “trepidation,” or discomfort it could cause is still a victorious “small act of resistance,” Choudhury said.

I’ll tip my Allahu Akbar hat to that.

Rummana Hussain is a columnist and member of the Sun-Times Editorial Board.

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