On a sultry night in July, Asra Q. Nomani was summoned to the large brick mosque near the university here for the start of a hastily planned inquisition. In a bow to the Muslim imperative for modest dress, she wore pants and a dark sweat jacket with the hood up, tied tight around her face.
Sitting around a large table were members of the executive committee of the Islamic Center of Morgantown, which her father helped start 23 years ago. One member was a woman who joined her in April in passing out fliers promoting "an inclusive and tolerant community for all Muslims."
The meeting was called because 35 mosque members had signed a petition demanding that Ms. Nomani be expelled. The mosque president held up a plastic baggie from which she was to draw the names of the panel that would make its recommendation on whether to ban her. The petition capped nine months in which Ms. Nomani had unsettled Muslims here and set off tremors in some other mosques across the country.
Last October, on the eve of the Ramadan holiday, she had entered the mosque through the front door. A mosque leader told her, "Use the sisters' entrance" - outside, up a flight of wooden stairs and at the rear of the building. She refused.
Eleven days later, she sat in the main prayer area, behind the rows of men, at the right edge of the room but not in the rear. This time she was told to move to the women's prayer area in the balcony.
The mosque was brand new, and leaders were proud that after years in which the women had no space, they now had a balcony. The women can hear from there, but they cannot see over its solid, rib-high wall. Ms. Nomani refused to move.
"This is part of the war within Islam for how it's defined in the world," she said. "Since 9/11, I've seen that if we don't assert ourselves, we're relinquishing our religion to be defined by those who speak the loudest and act the toughest."
The spot along the right wall of the main prayer area has become hers. For nine months, she has prayed there on many Fridays, sometimes with her mother, her sister-in-law and her son, Shibli, now 21 months.
Ms. Nomani's campaign might have ended there. In June, Mosque leaders quietly reversed their policy, allowing women to pray in the main hall behind the men. For the first time a woman won a seat in the executive committee election.
But the dispute did not end. Two things inflamed Ms. Nomani's detractors. She did not hide the fact that her son was born out of wedlock, which in some Muslim countries would earn her a death sentence. And she was taking notes.
A former journalist for The Wall Street Journal, Ms. Nomani submitted essays about her civil disobedience and what she said was an extremist takeover of her mosque that were published in The Washington Post and The New York Times.
Three executive committee members said in an interview in the mosque that the effort to ban Ms. Nomani could easily fail, and perhaps should. The panel has not yet convened to hear the case against her. Even if it recommends that she be banned, the mosque's board will make the final decision.
However, the committee members said they understand the motives of those seeking her expulsion. Ms. Nomani had challenged Islamic tradition, Hany Ammar, the president, said.
"In our prayers we kneel down to the floor,'' Mr. Ammar said. "We stand side by side. Our shoulders touch. Men want to be private from women.'' He later added, "Many people are very unhappy about the publicity."
Female members who once supported her cause are both angry and sympathetic. Some see her as a publicity seeker. One theorized that Ms. Nomani was still traumatized by the kidnapping and assassination of her friend Daniel Pearl, also a Wall Street Journal reporter. Mr. Pearl and his wife had been staying at Ms. Nomani's rented house in Pakistan when he disappeared.
On the Friday after the meeting, Ms. Nomani was searching for her car keys at home to drive to the mosque for the communal prayer. Her father, saying he was sick and weary from all the conflict, was preparing to pray at home. Her son stood on the stairs babbling, "Abooba abooba."
Ms. Nomani's father was suddenly exultant. His grandson was clearly imitating the call to prayer, "Allahu Akbar."
"This is what Asra is fighting for," he said, "the next generation."