Ahmadi Muslims from around the country came to this year’s convention, which featured talks from religious leaders and guests.

WASHINGTON — Ahmadi Muslims have been preaching peaceful practices since the community was founded 120 years ago in India. Now, they say they are just trying to get the rest of the world, including their fellow Americans, to listen.

“Many, many Americans do not trust Muslims,” Naseem Mahdi, a national vice president of the community, told thousands of listeners resting on the carpeted floor in his address titled “Islam and Loyalty to the Homeland.”

This year’s convention in Chantilly, Va., held July 16-18, was also broadcast on the community’s 24- hour cable network, Muslim Television Ahmadiyya.

“Love of your homeland, your place of residence, is part of your faith,” he said, standing yards away from a guarded-tier where the American flag, the Virginia flag, and the community’s flag flew.

The community’s message of nonviolence seemed particularly poignant, after 86 Ahmadi Muslims were killed while worshiping in their mosques in Lahore, Pakistan on May 28.

Mizra Ghulam Ahmad  founded the group in 1889 in Qadian, India, near the Pakistani border. He taught a nonviolent interpretation of Islam, saying that Muslims should wage “jihad of the pen,” not “of the sword. Ahmadis have been called heretics in Pakistan, where they face persecution and are not allowed, by law, to call themselves Muslims. Their slogan is “Love for all, hatred for none.”

It’s a message that leaders say got lost when the community was new to the United States, because it was young and full of immigrants trying to assimilate.

“We cannot be silent anymore,” said Nasim Rehmatullah, another national vice president of the community.

Rehmatullah and other leaders promoted the Muslims for Peace movement, a public awareness campaign. The campaign advertises Islam as a peaceful religion, condemns terrorism, and advocates for the separation of religion and state and human rights. They said they hoped other American Muslims would join the cause.

Organizers said they expected at least 5,000 attendees at the convention, which has two venues and two concurrent programs  — one for the women’s community, one for the men’s.  Cultural practices do not allow the mingling of women and men in a common space.

This year’s convention, which was the 62nd in America, was also a place for members of the scattered Ahmadiyya community to reconnect. Around the perimeter of the central speaking area were stalls offering matchmaking services, homeopathic therapies, and religious book sales, in addition to a large on-the-house food-service operation, staffed entirely by volunteers.

Just across the parking lot from the men’s convention, Tamara Rodney, a convert to Ahmadiyya Islam from St. Louis, stood amid a crowd of festively dressed women who were shopping at fundraising booths and talking. She had recited a poem earlier that day onstage to the same crowd. She said the gathering had rejuvenated her.

“You come, you feel strengthened,” she said.

Looking around the room, she added “We can do this here in America.”