Imagine trying to navigate these really complex
currents of religious scholarship, political
commentary, and mainstream media, all while challenging
conventional wisdom, sparking, you know, intense
debate. Today we're diving deep into the life
and work of a figure who really embodies this
very journey. Our deep dive today is into Reza
Aslan. He's an Iranian -American scholar, writer,
television host. And his career has consistently
well pushed boundaries and provoked thought.
He's known for his insightful analyses of religion,
culture, politics. but also, yeah, for his remarkable
ability to stir the pot, sometimes quite dramatically.
And we've gathered quite a wealth of information
for you today. We're looking at Aslan's entire
career, really, his academic journey, all his
writing, his TV projects, and even the major
controversies he's faced along the way. Our mission,
basically, is to extract the most important nuggets
from all this material to help you understand
not just what he's done, but maybe more importantly,
why it matters and the broader implications of
his, well, multi -faceted career. It's about
giving you a kind of shortcut to truly grasp
his unique impact. Exactly. We're going to journey
through his personal story, explore how his academic
rigor actually informs his popular works, unpack
the significant impact of his media presence,
and even delve into some of the really intense
debates surrounding his approaches. It's a journey
that reveals a lot, I think, about the intersection
of scholarship and public life. So settle in
because this is where it's really interesting.
OK, let's unpack this journey by starting at
the very beginning. laying the foundations, so
to speak, of his multifaceted mind. Reza Aslan
was born in Tehran, Iran. That was May 30, 1972.
But his early life took a dramatic turn when
his family fled the Iranian Revolution in 1979,
a huge upheaval. They eventually settled in the
San Francisco Bay Area, and he graduated from
Delmar High School in San Jose back in 1990.
I mean, I can only imagine what that displacement
and cultural adaptation must have been like,
fleeing a revolution, relocating across the world.
He's even spoken about something quite poignant
from that time about pretending to be Mexican
in the 1980s, apparently because of the discrimination
faced by Iranian Americans then. Yeah, that detail.
about pretending to be Mexican. It isn't just
a poignant anecdote. It really offers a raw glimpse
into the immense pressures of assimilation, the
complex social dynamics faced by immigrant communities,
especially during periods of, well, heightened
tension like the post -revolution hostage crisis
era. What's truly fascinating is how this early
experience, this displacement, and the fundamental
need for cultural adaptation likely profoundly
shaped his perspective. This personal struggle
to navigate different cultural narratives, different
identities, to understand where you fit and how
you're perceived, it very likely fostered his
ability to bridge those gaps in his later work.
It allowed him to understand the nuances of identity
and cultural friction in a way that maybe purely
academic observation might not capture. It gives
him an inherent lived empathy for the challenges
of belonging and difference. And that's a powerful
lens, right, for viewing his later studies on
religion and society. Absolutely. That early
navigation of identity clearly seems to have
laid the groundwork for an incredibly impressive
academic trajectory, which is nothing short of
a scholarly deep dive itself. He's got a BA in
religious studies from Santa Clara University.
Okay. Then a master of theological studies. That's
an MTS from Harvard Divinity School. Impressive.
Then a master of fine arts and MFA in fiction
writing from the University of Iowa's Writers
Workshop. That's a different direction. And then
a PhD in sociology from the University of California
Santa Barbara. His 2009 dissertation, Global
Jihadism as a Transnational Social Movement.
A theoretical framework focused on contemporary
Muslim political activism. Honestly, that makes
my single degree feel a bit inadequate. How does
one even manage such a breadth of without feeling
completely pulled in different directions. It's
truly remarkable, isn't it? This incredibly diverse
educational background. I mean, spanning religious
studies, theology, creative writing, and sociology.
It provides him with a truly unique interdisciplinary
lens through which he approaches complex subjects.
And to your point, how does it all connect? Well,
that master of fine arts in fiction writing from
Iowa, no less. That's a crucial detail here,
I think. Yeah. How so? It suggests an early and
probably deep emphasis on narrative and communication.
Not just what happened, but how stories are told
and how they resonate with people. That skill
set would prove absolutely critical for his later
success in popular media. because, you know,
it's not enough to simply know complex subjects.
You have to know how to tell the story of that
knowledge, make it engaging, accessible, capture
a broad audience. He's a scholar who fundamentally
understands the power of narrative. That makes
sense, the storyteller aspect. Exactly. Now,
his PhD in sociology, despite his strong religious
studies background, that's actually a specific
point of academic debate we'll unpack a bit later.
It highlights the complexities of academic credentialing
itself. But if we connect this to the bigger
picture, right? This blend of rigorous analytical
tools, from sociology understanding societal
structures, social movements, combined with the
narrative power of fiction writing, and the contextual
depth of religious studies. It equips him not
just with vast knowledge, but with that rare
skill. the skill to articulate complex historical
and religious phenomena to a broad audience.
He makes dense topics understandable, captivating,
essentially translating academic insights into
relatable human stories. And that's incredibly
valuable in today's media landscape. That rich
academic tapestry is, well, it's further colored
by his personal spiritual journey, which has
been anything but static, it seems. He was born
into a Twelver Shia Muslim family. That's a significant
branch of Shia Islam. But then at age 15, he
actually converted to evangelical Christianity.
I mean, talk about a shift. A huge shift. Then,
the summer before attending Harvard, he converted
back to Islam, specifically identifying with
Sufism, which is often described as the mystical
introspective dimension of Islam. He completed
his Harvard degree in 1999. By 2013, his views
had evolved even further. He described Islam
as, and this is a direct quote, a man -made institution
and a set of symbols and metaphors for expressing
faith. emphasizing that it's not more right or
more wrong than any other symbols and metaphors.
He even said, it's that all religions are nothing
more than a language made up of symbols and metaphors
to help an individual explain faith. And it's
symbols and metaphors that I prefer, but it's
not more right or more wrong than any other symbols
and metaphors. It's a language. That's all it
is. His personal journey through these different
major phase, Shia Islam, Evangelical Christianity,
then back to Islam, but with an adherence to
Sufism, that's absolutely crucial for truly understanding
his work. This direct lived experience with conversion,
with reversion, it lends a unique empathetic
insight into different belief systems. It's far
beyond just an outsider's academic observation.
Right. He's been on the inside of several traditions.
Exactly. He has literally wrestled with faith
on a deeply personal level from within multiple
traditions and this deeply held view of religion
as a man -made institution offering symbols and
metaphors rather than some absolute singular
truth. It's a core philosophical stance. It profoundly
informs his scholarly approach. It allows him
to analyze faiths comparatively, sociologically
without ever claiming one is inherently superior
or exclusively true. He sees them as different
languages, you know, for the same human impulse
toward the divine or toward meaning. So what
does this offer you, the listener? Why is this
personal journey so important? Well, it provides
vital context for his analyses. It suggests a
scholar who hasn't just read about faith in books.
He's experienced it, lived it, struggled with
it. That can make his explanations more relatable,
perhaps more resonant, even when he's discussing
dense theological concepts or historical details.
This personal stake can make his analyses connect
more deeply. especially when he's challenging
conventional understandings or assumptions. It
highlights that his scholarship isn't purely
theoretical. It's informed by a profound personal
quest for meaning. This profoundly personal understanding
of faith, it undoubtedly shapes how he approaches
writing about religion, which leads us directly
into his impactful literary career. His early
works really made a splash, didn't they? Deconstructing
Islam for a Western audience, often challenging
the prevailing narratives of the time. His 2005
book, No God But God, The Origins, Evolution,
and Future of Islam. That's a nonfiction work
describing the history of Islam and advocating
for a more liberal interpretation. It controversially
attributes current controversies within Islam
to factors like Western imperialism and what
he calls self -serving misinterpretations of
Islamic law by past scholars. This was a direct,
powerful challenge to the whole Clash of Civilizations
thesis that was so prevalent, especially post
9 -11. Absolutely. A very direct challenge. Yeah.
Then in 2009, he published How to Win a Cosmic
War. God, globalization, and the end of terror,
which was later re -released in 2010 as Beyond
Fundamentalism, confronting religious extremism
in the age of globalization. This book delved
into the ideology of groups like Al Qaeda and
the Taliban examining religious violence across
Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. So a comparative
approach. Aslan argues, and this is key, that
the U .S. war on terror actually parallels the
very cosmic war rhetoric of its adversaries.
That mirroring effect. Exactly. He makes a crucial
distinction between Islamism, which he argues
has legitimate political goals and can potentially
be negotiated with, and jihadism, which he says
dreams of an idealized, unattainable pan -Islamic
past and is fundamentally different. His prescription
for winning this cosmic war involves engaging
moderate Islamic political forces in democratic
processes, stating, quote, Throughout the Middle
East, whenever moderate Islamist parties have
been allowed to participate in the political
process, popular support for more extremist groups
has diminished. The New Yorker praised it as
a thoughtful analysis, and the Washington Post
called it a very persuasive argument. So it got
attention. It definitely did. And these early
works clearly demonstrate Aslan's deep commitment
to reframing the public's understanding of Islam,
particularly in that post -911 era when so many
simplistic, often fear -based narratives were
taking hold. No God but God is that direct challenge
to reductionist views, offering a much more nuanced
historical theological perspective, pushing back
against the idea of Islam being monolithic or
inherently violent. Then, How to Win a Cosmic
War provides that critical lens on the language
of conflict itself. His core insight there is
fascinating. When we, in the West, frame conflicts
like the war on terror in absolute good versus
evil terms, we inadvertently mimic the cosmic
war rhetoric of our adversaries. Yeah. He highlights
the idea of cosmic war as a kind of ritual drama.
where earthly battles are seen to reflect heavenly
ones, and how American rhetoric inadvertently
created this cosmic dualism with al -Qaeda's
jihad narrative. So understanding that helps
avoid fueling the fire. That's the argument.
By understanding this mirroring effect, we could
avoid inadvertently empowering extremist narratives.
We can pursue more nuanced strategies instead.
His distinction between Islamism and Jihadism
is a key analytical tool he offers. It invites
a more sophisticated policy approach than just
a blanket condemnation of all Islamic political
movements, urging instead an understanding of
their diverse motivations and goals. And his
concrete policy suggestion about engaging moderate
Islamist parties, that's a strong, actionable
takeaway, even if complex to implement. So these
books, they offer you, the listener, a framework,
not just for understanding Islamic history or
extremism, but also the broader dynamics, religious
conflict, global politics. They challenge simple
narratives and provide tools for more critical
engagement with the news, with discourse around
these topics. Exactly. It encourages looking
beyond those surface level interpretations to
grasp the underlying ideological structures at
play. A deeper dive, really. OK, so from reinterpreting
Islam's past and present, Aslan then turned his
scholarly gaze to a figure at the heart of another
major world religion. This led to one of his
most widely discussed and certainly debated works,
Zealot, The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth.
Published in 2013, this book offers a historical
account of Jesus, portraying him not just as
a spiritual leader, but as a political, rebellious,
and eschatological Jew whose proclamation of
the coming kingdom of God was essentially a direct
call for regime change against Roman rule and
the corrupt aristocratic priesthood in Roman
Judea at the time. It was immensely provocative,
to say the least, and certainly challenged many
conventional Christian understandings of Jesus.
Provocative is definitely the word. A bold scholarly
move. It's really interesting and quite controversial.
The media firestorm part. July 2013, Aslen was
interviewed on Spirited Debate by Fox News chief
religion correspondent, Lauren Green. Green,
well, she seemed clearly unsatisfied with Aslan's
credentials, or perhaps his background. She repeatedly
questioned why a Muslim would write a book about
Jesus. Mm -hmm. The central focus of the interview,
really. Right. Aslan, understandably, defended
himself quite strongly. He stated, quote, because
it's my job as an academic, I'm a professor of
religion, including the New Testament. That's
what I do for a living. The interview, it lasted
about 10 minutes, focused much more on his background
than the actual content of the book, Zealot.
And it went viral. massively viral. It did. And
that virality, perhaps ironically or perhaps
predictably in today's media climate, it propelled
zealot up the charts. Number four on the New
York Times hardcover bestseller list, number
one on Amazon's U .S. bestseller list. It was
an accidental but incredibly effective marketing
campaign, wasn't it? Absolutely. But The incident
sparked significant debate, right? Not just in
the media, but within academia itself. Oh, yes.
Elizabeth Castelli, she's a professor of religion.
She criticized Green's, quote, anti -Muslim bias
and the conflation of the academic study of religion
with personal religious identification, which,
as you highlighted, is a common misunderstanding
in public discourse. Her point was that a scholar's
personal face or lack thereof shouldn't automatically
invalidate their academic inquiry. That's basic
academic freedom. But Castelli also raised some
questions about Aslan's credentials, didn't she?
She did. She expressed some concern over Aslan
describing himself simply as a historian. She
suggested he could legitimately claim expertise
in history of religions, which aligns more closely
with his UCSB sociology, PhDs, interdisciplinary
nature, but felt that his claims are more grandiose
than that, that the label historian implied a
different kind of training. OK. And the Washington
Post journalist Manuel Roig Francia echoed this
critique, noting UCSB doesn't offer specific
degrees in history of religion per se. So there
was pushback even from within academia about
how he framed his expertise. There was. But it's
important to acknowledge the counterpoints that
emerged too. Aslan's own dissertation advisor,
Mark Juergensmeyer, who's a very respected scholar,
robustly defended Aslan's characterization of
his doctorate. He pointed to the inherently interdisciplinary
nature of UCSB's program and Aslan's extensive
coursework in religion. The Philadelphia Inquirer
also observed that UCSB's program allows students
to, quote, tailor their studies around a topic,
not a department. Which supports the idea that
his chosen field of study was effectively the
history of religion, just housed within a sociological
framework. So the debate itself really highlights
the complexities, maybe even the occasional silliness
of academic boundaries and labels. Okay, on one
hand, zealot itself represents this bold scholarly
move, challenging traditional Christian interpretations
of Jesus, placing him firmly in his historical
Jewish context as a revolutionary figure. It
forces us, or you, the reader, to consider Jesus
through a different historically grounded lens,
whether you ultimately agree or not. Right, it
sparks that critical thinking. But on the other
hand, the Fox News interview became this massive
flashpoint. illustrating a broader public misunderstanding
or maybe, sometimes, a deliberate mis -framing
of academic expertise in religious studies. It
powerfully highlighted the discomfort some audiences
and some media outlets have with scholars from
outside a particular religion studying its foundational
figures. It raises really critical questions,
doesn't it? Absolutely. This entire episode serves
as a powerful case study for you, the listener,
on the potent intersection of scholarship, media,
and public perception. It raises truly critical
questions we all need to consider. Like, can
a scholar's personal faith background legitimately
invalidate their academic research? Or is that
itself a form of prejudice? How do media narratives
shape the reception of scholarly work, especially
when that work challenges deeply held beliefs?
And perhaps most importantly, how do we, as consumers
of information, evaluate expertise? Especially
when that expertise comes from an unexpected
source or challenges our own in -grade perspectives.
It encourages a deeper look at the whole public
square of ideas, how information is presented
and received. That's I see. OK, so while zealot
certainly catapulted him into the public consciousness,
Aslan didn't stop there. He continued to explore
the vast landscape of faith and other significant
works. In 2017, he released God, a human history.
Here he explores the history of religion, theorizes
how humans began to conceive of supernatural
beings, and eventually God, all presented in
that accessible scholarly style he's known for.
Right, tackling the big concept of God itself.
Then he turned to a more specific historical
narrative in 2022 with an American martyr in
Persia, the epic life and tragic death of Howard
Baskerville. Kirkus Reviews called it an intriguing
read that breeds life into a pivotal moment of
Persian -Iranian history, connecting back to
his heritage there. A fascinating lesser -known
story. And most recently, in 2024, he published
a kid's book about Israel and Palestine. I mean,
that's quite a reign, isn't it? From the conceptual
history of God to a specific historical biography
to a children's book on a deeply complex ongoing
political issue. It really is an impressive breath,
and each work offers a unique facet of his intellectual
curiosity and his commitment to communication,
God. A human history, for example, showcases
his ability to synthesize vast amounts of anthropological,
archaeological, theological information into
a compelling narrative about the evolution of
human spirituality. It shifts the focus from
specific doctrines of individual religions to
that universal human impulse. The impulse to
understand the divine tracing how our conception
of God has changed over millennia. It's not just
about what people believe but why we believe
and how those beliefs evolved. That seems fascinating.
Then his work on Howard Baskerville, an American
martyr in Persia that demonstrates his continued
interest in Iranian history and cross -cultural
narratives, connecting back to his own heritage,
as you said. This book tells the largely forgotten
story of an American missionary who went to Persia,
now Iran, in the early 20th century. got deeply
involved in Iran's constitutional revolution,
and ultimately died fighting alongside the constitutionalists,
became a hero there. It breeds life into a specific
historical moment, showing how individual actions
can have profound international impact. Wow.
And a kid's book about Israel and Palestine?
That's a fascinating move. It suggests a new
and important avenue for him. Engaging with complex
emotionally charged topics at an accessible level,
trying to foster understanding from a young age,
presumably by simplifying core historical narratives
without taking a definitive side. That's a challenging
task. It certainly is. So these works, taken
together, they really highlight Aslan's consistent
dedication, don't they? making complex religious
and historical topics understandable to a wider
audience, regardless of their prior knowledge
or background. It's clear he's not just writing
for academics in an ivory tower. He's writing
for the general public, seeking to broaden their
perspectives. Exactly. That commitment to accessibility
is a hallmark of a scholar aiming for broad public
impact. not just academic recognition within
a narrow field. And that commitment extends beyond
his own writing, too, right? You mentioned he's
also actively shaped the literary landscape by
curating the voices of others. That's right.
And this is another fascinating dimension of
his work. In 2011, he edited tablet and pen literary
landscapes from the modern Middle East. This
is a major anthology featuring nearly 200 pieces,
poems, short stories, essays, many translated
into English for the very first time from Arabic.
Persian Urdu and Turkish literature the sheer
scale of that project compiled with a team of
regional editors and get this 77 translators
It truly underscores the monumental effort involved
Wow 77 translators. That's a huge undertaking
But what's the core takeaway here? Why does this
work as an editor matter beyond just you know
being a lot of hard work? Well, these editorial
projects profoundly reflect Aslan's commitment
to cultural exchange and interfaith dialogue.
It's a consistent thread running through his
career. Tablet and Pen is a significant effort
to expose Western audiences to the rich, diverse
literary traditions of the Middle East, directly
challenging stereotypes and fostering understanding
through shared human stories, poetry, narratives.
It's a direct antidote to those monolithic portrayals
of the region we often see. Giving voice to the
region itself? Precisely. And simultaneously,
also in 2011, he co -edited Muslims and Jews
in America, commonalities, contentions, and complexities
with Aaron J. Hunt Tapper. This collection of
essays directly explores contemporary Jewish
-Muslim relations right here in the United States,
highlighting his dedication to fostering understanding
in complex intergroup relations, especially at
a time when such dialogue is often fractured
or fraught. The key insight is that he's not
just a commentator, he's an active bridge builder
in the literary and cultural spheres, using his
platform to amplify other voices. This commitment
to storytelling and cultural dialogue extends
far beyond the printed page, as Aslan has also
made significant waves in the world of television
and media production. He founded Aslan Media,
which you mentioned was a platform for alternative
coverage of the Middle East and its global diaspora.
And back in 2006, he co -founded BoomGen Studios
with Mahad Tusi. a studio specifically focused
on bringing nuanced Middle Eastern stories to
American audiences. This sounds like a very deliberate
strategy. These ventures are indeed a testament
to Aslan's proactive approach to shaping narratives
about the Middle East. He recognized, I think,
that writing books, while impactful, isn't the
only way to reach a mass audience in the 21st
century. Right. Visual media is huge. Exactly.
He moved beyond merely writing about it to actively
producing and influencing visual media. BoomGen
Studios, in particular, demonstrates a strategic
effort, integrating diverse cultural stories
into mainstream entertainment, aiming to shift
perceptions, create empathy through the power
of visual storytelling. They've consulted on
major projects like Disney's Prince of Persia,
the Broadway musical of Aladdin, John Stewart's
directorial debut, Rosewater, and the Oscar -nominated
documentary, The Square, about the Egyptian Revolution.
So real mainstream projects. Absolutely. They
even executive produced ABC's biblical epic of
Kings and Prophets, which was a retelling of
King David's story filmed in South Africa, showcasing
this range and ambition. So what does this mean
for you, the listener? Why should you care about
these production ventures? Well, it means that
more nuanced, more diverse stories about the
Middle East are actively being brought to your
screens and stages. potentially enriching your
understanding beyond what traditional news or
entertainment might typically offer. It's a powerful
reminder that who gets to tell the stories and
from what perspective profoundly impacts how
we perceive entire regions and cultures. Aslan's
move into production highlights his deep understanding
of this power and his strategic effort to leverage
it for what he presumably sees as better cross
-cultural understanding. His influence in television
wasn't just limited to production, though. He
also stepped into significant creative and on
-screen roles himself. In 2015, Aslan served
as a consulting producer for the second and third
seasons of that critically acclaimed HBO series,
The Leftover. Ah, yes, great show. He was apparently
instrumental in shaping the protagonist Kevin
Garvey's character arc in season two. That demonstrates
his ability to apply his understanding of complex
human psychology, spiritual searching, to fictional
drama. That's a fascinating application of his
expertise, isn't it? Taking academic insights
and applying them to a character's internal journey
on a major TV show. It really is. It shows how
his deep thinking about religion and meaning
could translate into compelling narrative arcs.
Then, in 2016, 2016, he hosted Rough Draft with
Reza Aslan on the Ovation Network. This was a
talk show where he conversed with acclaimed authors,
writers in film, TV, journalism, positioning
himself as an intellectual interviewer, leveraging
his natural curiosity and communication skills
to extract insights from other storytellers.
Right, showcasing another side of his communication
skills. Showing yet another facet of his work,
he co -wrote a sitcom pilot called Allah and
the Family, which was based on his own experiences
as an Iranian immigrant growing up in Oklahoma.
ABC actually bought the pilot, though it hasn't
been produced yet, as far as we know. But still,
that's a stark contrast to consulting on a dark
drama like The Leftovers. These projects truly
showcase his remarkable versatility, don't they?
And his continuous drive to engage with ideas
across different forms and genres. From the profound,
almost esoteric discussions on belief and suffering
in The Leftovers, to the potentially relatable
and comedic exploration of immigrant identity
in Allah and the family. It's a compelling demonstration
of how he translates his scholarly insights into
accessible entertainment. Aiming to connect with
diverse audiences on multiple levels, drama,
interview, humor, he understands that different
mediums require different approaches to effectively
communicate complex ideas. However... It was
a different television project that would thrust
him into one of his most significant public controversies,
one that really became a major flashpoint. This
was CNN's spiritual travel series Believer, which
premiered in 2017. The show followed Aslan as
he immersed himself in and experienced various
fringe and often, let's say, disreputable or
misunderstood religious traditions internationally.
He himself compared it to Anthony Bourdain. Parts
Unknown, a show known for its immersive, sometimes
edgy, cultural experiences. Like setting a certain
expectation. The very first episode, which focused
on the Aghori sect of Hinduism in India, became
a massive point of contention almost immediately.
Aslan was heavily criticized for sensationalism
for alleged anti -Hinduism, notably for that
infamous scene where he ate part of a human brain
while meeting Aghori Sadhus, which was widely
seen as a provocative stunt. That scene got a
lot of attention. The backlash was swift and
severe, coming from numerous Hindu -American
organizations. The United States India Political
Action Committee stated the show characterized
Hinduism as cannibalistic amidst what they described
as rising anti -Indian hate -fueled attacks at
the time. Context matters there. Vamshi Juluri,
a professor of media studies, called the episode
reckless, racist, and anti -immigrant. Strong
words. While Aseem Shukla of the Hindu -American
Foundation accused Aslan of being And the criticisms
didn't stop at just the general tone or that
one specific scene. Critics pointed to specific
alleged mischaracterizations and inaccuracies
in the portrayal. For instance, the show calling
Varanasi the City of the Dead, which While it's
a major site for pilgrimage and cremation, critics
argued reduces a deeply spiritual and vibrant
city to a morbid cliché. They also mentioned
referring to the sacred immersion of ashes in
the Gantes River as dumping, which sounds disrespectful
rather than ritualistic. Furthermore, critics
argued the show portrayed the Agors, a very small,
extreme sect, almost as representative or as
an exception in the struggle against the caste
system in a way that was misleading. and that
it fundamentally misunderstood the distinction
between Varna, the four broad classes in ancient
Indian society, and Jati, the far more numerous
specific hereditary groups or castes. Complex
social structures being simplified. Right, nuances
lost. They also accused him of misrepresenting
the very notion of God in Hinduism itself, which
is incredibly diverse. And adding another layer
to the controversy, organizations like American
Hindus Against Defamation and the Hindu American
Foundation questioned why Aslan's own religion,
Islam, was not covered in the series, asking
if there was a double standard. How did Aslan
respond to that? Aslan responded that he had
actually planned to cover the Ashura Festival
in Pakistan for the show, but had to abandon
it due to prohibitive insurance costs related
to security concerns there. And he pledged to
cover Islam if the series continued. But, well,
it didn't. This entire controversy really serves
as a microcosm, doesn't it? Of the huge challenges
in presenting nuanced cultural and religious
practices to a mass audience, especially when
filtered through a Western media lens, and especially
when focusing on practices considered fringe
or shocking. The Aghori episode exposed that
very fine line between immersive journalism and
outright sensationalism, igniting a significant
debate about representation, cultural sensitivity,
and the potential perpetuation of harmful stereotypes,
particularly about on Western religions. And
then things escalated further, leading to the
show's cancellation. On June 9, 2017, CNN canceled
Believer's Plan's second season. This happened
after Aslan posted some profane anti -Trump tweets
following the London Bridge attack. Aslan called
President Trump, quote, a piece of shit and a
man baby. Very strong language. Very strong,
very public language. Aslan issued a statement
afterwards saying, I am not a journalist, I am
a social commentator and scholar, and so I agree
with CNN that it is best that we part ways. He
also defended the Aghori episode itself in a
separate Facebook post. But for CNN, the tweets
seem to be the final straw. It really shows how
a public persona, especially a politically -charged
one, can clash with a major media organization's
brand identity. Exactly. And that cancellation
highlights a crucial point, how an individual's
commentary, even if made outside their primary
professional role, maybe on their personal Twitter,
can have significant repercussions in today's
highly polarized, politically -charged media
landscape. Aslan's distinction, his argument
that he's a journalist versus a social commentator
and scholar is key to understanding his perspective
on this fallout. How so? He was essentially arguing,
I think, that his academic and commentary roles
allowed for a different kind of expression, a
more opinionated stance, perhaps more advocacy
than a traditional journalist might typically
adhere to, where impartiality is often seen as
paramount. But clearly, CNN disagreed about where
that line should be drawn when he was representing
their brand on air. Right. The platform matters.
Absolutely. So for you, our listener, this whole
believer incident is a powerful case study on
media ethics, cultural representation, the responsibilities
of public figures operating across different
platforms. It prompts us to critically examine
how fringe cultures, how non -Western religious
practices are portrayed, the potential for misinterpretation,
for sensationalism, and the broader implications
of a host's personal political statements on
their professional projects. It also challenges
us, maybe, to consider our own biases when encountering
unfamiliar religious practices and how we consume
information about them, a vital lesson in critical
media consumption. Beyond his media projects,
Aslan has consistently engaged with the broader
political and philosophical discussions of our
time, often with equally strong opinions, as
we've just seen. This brings us back to a thread
we first encountered when discussing his book,
How to Win a Cosmic War. Let's revisit that cosmic
war concept and maybe do a deeper dive into his
political analysis there. Aslan's analysis of
the war on terrorism, first presented in that
book, describes al -Qaeda's jihad not just as
holy war, but as a cosmic war. a kind of ritualistic
drama where participants believe they are enacting
a heavenly battle right here on earth. He argues
that American rhetoric of a war on terrorism
inadvertently mirrored this cosmic dualism with
al -Qaeda's jihad, effectively creating or at
least reinforcing the very narrative it claimed
to fight against. This analysis provides a really
sophisticated framework, I think, for understanding
religiously motivated conflicts. It moves beyond
a simple good versus evil binary. By highlighting
the rhetorical similarities between opposing
sides, he challenges conventional wisdom. He
urges a reconsideration of strategy. His core
argument is that by labeling the conflict in
such existential absolute terms, the U .S. inadvertently
played into Al Qaeda's own narrative, their narrative
of a final apocalyptic showdown between pure
good and pure evil. Which empowers them, in a
way. Potentially, yes. His emphasis on democratic
engagement of moderate forces offers a practical,
if obviously complex, alternative to purely military
solutions. It's rooted in a sociological understanding
of how social movements gain or lose legitimacy.
He consistently differentiates between Islamism,
which he argues often has negotiable, sometimes
legitimate political goals, and Jihadism, which
he sees as dreaming of an idealized, uncompromising,
pan -Islamic past. His proposed solution remains
engaging those moderate Islamic political forces
in democratic processes. Because, as he stated,
popular support for more extremist groups has
diminished in scenarios where that happens. It
gives people a legitimate democratic outlet for
political grievances rather than forcing them
into extremist camps. That makes sense, providing
alternatives. Exactly. And if we connect this
to the bigger picture, how might this framework
apply to other global conflicts? where religious
or ideological narratives are deeply intertwined
with political objectives. Think about conflicts,
even seemingly secular ones, where groups adopt
an almost existential us -versus -them narrative,
total opposition. Aslan's framework encourages
us to analyze if, in those situations, both sides
might be inadvertently playing into a similar
ritual drama, where the enemy isn't just an opponent,
but an embodiment of absolute wrong. This forces
a deeper look at the rhetoric, the motivations,
the underlying ideological structures that truly
drive these conflict situations. It's a potentially
powerful tool for de -escalation and promoting
understanding, not just reaction. This nuanced
perspective on conflict seems to extend to his
vigorous advocacy for fundamental human rights
and religious pluralism as well. Aslan has been
an outspoken advocate for religious freedom,
for the protection of religious minorities throughout
the Middle East. He has specifically called for...
That's a significant stance to take, isn't it?
Especially given his Iranian heritage. critiquing
the government there so directly on this issue.
It really is significant. His advocacy here demonstrates
a consistent commitment to universal human rights
that seems to transcend specific religious affiliations
or even national loyalties. His call for the
protection of the Baha 'i community in Iran is
particularly noteworthy given his background.
It highlights his willingness to critique practices
within a country connected to his own heritage,
even when it might be personally or politically
uncomfortable. This isn't just a detached academic
observation. It comes across as a passionate
plea for justice. He also issued a very strong
warning, saying that the persecution and displacement
of Middle Eastern Christian communities represent,
quote, nothing less than a regional religious
cleansing that will soon prove to be a historic
disaster for Christians and Muslims alike. That
underscores the gravity he sees in the situation
for these vulnerable communities and the broader
implications for the region's cultural and religious
diversity. He sees it as a loss for everyone.
So the takeaway for you, the listener, from this
advocacy? It highlights the urgency, really,
of interfaith understanding and the protection
of minorities, especially in conflict zones or
under authoritarian regimes. It grounds these
sometimes theoretical discussions about religion
and rights in very real, very human consequences.
It urges your attention to ongoing human rights
issues, reminding us that religious freedom isn't
just an abstract concept talked about in universities.
It's a matter of life and death, of cultural
survival for millions of people. His strong stance
on religious freedom, his deep understanding
of faith traditions, it naturally led him to
engage, and often clash quite publicly, with
prominent voices in the new atheist movement.
Back in a 2014 interview, Aslan criticized what
he termed the armchair atheism of figures like
Sam Harris and Bill Maher, arguing they lacked
formal training in religious studies and were
therefore, in his view, unable to effectively
comment on how religion actually shapes human
behavior in nuanced ways. questioning their credentials
to speak on the topic. He even called Richard
Dawkins a buffoon in that context, contrasting
them with what he called the philosophical atheism
of earlier thinkers, perhaps like Nietzsche or
Marx, who he said were experts in religion, people
who understood religious texts and history deeply
before critiquing them. It's a strong critique,
focusing heavily on academic credentials versus
maybe popular commentary. It is. And one could
argue, as you hinted earlier, that perhaps a
common person's experience of faith, or their
reasons for lacking faith, is also a valid perspective,
even if it's an armchair observation from an
academic standpoint. Is Aslan's position perhaps
too dismissive of lived, non -academic experiences?
Yeah, that's the counterargument, isn't it? It's
a very fair question, and it really gets to the
heart of that particular debate. Aslan's position,
as he articulated it, reveals him as a staunch
defender of nuanced, contextualized religious
understanding against what he perceives as simplistic
and often prejudiced critiques. His arguments
against armchair atheism center on the importance
of academic rigor, historical context, sociological
understanding when analyzing complex social phenomena
like religion. He believes that without that
deep academic grounding, one risks making broad,
inaccurate, potentially harmful generalizations.
For him, a lived, non -academic experience is
certainly valid for personal belief or non -belief.
But not necessarily for making scholarly judgments
or broad public pronouncements about global religious
trends or the fundamental nature of faith itself.
So it's about the scope of the claims being made.
Exactly. This isn't just a casual disagreement.
It's a fundamental clash of methodologies of
worldviews. pitting a kind of social scientific
historical approach against a more philosophical
or sometimes purely observational critique. And
this clash played out very dramatically on CNN
in September 2014. Aslan criticized comedian
Bill Maher quite strongly for characterizing
female genital mutilation FGM as simply an Islamic
problem. In addition to Maher making several
other sweeping generalizations about the faith
of Islam. Right, that debate got a lot of traction.
Aslan directly challenged Maher, stating, quote,
to say Muslim countries as though Pakistan and
Turkey are the same, it's frankly, and I use
this word seriously, stupid. Very direct. He
also highlighted what he saw as U .S. hypocrisy,
condemning ISIS actions while simultaneously
partnering closely with Saudi Arabia, pointing
out that Saudi Arabia had, according to reports
he cited, beheaded 19 people during the very
time ISIS actions were being intensely discussed,
drawing a direct, uncomfortable parallel that
put Marha on the defensive. That debate became
a significant flashpoint for Aslan's argument.
that generalizing about an entire religion, especially
one as vast and diverse as Islam with over a
billion followers, is not only reductive, but,
in his words, bigoted. He followed up with an
article in the New York Times in October 2014
titled, Bill Maher isn't the only one who misunderstands
religion. Where he wrote, and this is key, Bill
Maher is right to condemn religious practices
that violate fundamental human rights. Religious
communities must do more to counter extremist
interpretations of their faith. So he's not defending
the practices. Right. He acknowledges the problem.
But he continues, failing to recognize that religion
is embedded in culture and making a blanket judgment
about the world's second largest religion is
simply bigotry. No. So Aslan isn't defending
harmful practices themselves. He's attacking
the analytical framework used to critique them,
arguing for much more precision and cultural
context. Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater,
essentially. Okay. But this wasn't a one -sided
discussion, right? There were counter -critiques
to Aslan's points as well. Oh, absolutely. And
it's crucial to acknowledge those counter -critiques
to get the full picture. Eric Sassen, writing
in The New Republic, directly challenge some
of Aslan's claims from that CNN interview with
Marr. For instance, Sassen pointed out Human
Rights Watch reports indicating a significant
rollback of women's rights in places like Indonesia
and Turkey. even though those countries had elected
female leaders at times, which complicated Aslan's
argument about the necessarily progressive nature
of moderate Islamist parties in power. OK, so
pushing back on that specific point. Yes. Saz
also noted that FGM, the issue Maher raised,
is documented as a significant issue in Muslim
-majority Malaysia, not just confined to Central
Africa, as Aslan seemed to imply in the debate,
suggesting the problem was perhaps more widespread
within diverse Muslim contexts than Aslan presented.
David Packman, another commentator, also cast
doubt on some of Aslan's broader claims, particularly
regarding the universality or uniqueness of certain
types of religious violence he discussed. And
Sam Harris, one of the prominent new atheists
Aslan had initially critiqued, fired back as
well. Harris criticized Aslan for what he saw
as a tendency to consistently blame individuals
or political factors or misinterpretations rather
than Islam itself for violence committed in its
name. labeling Aslan's arguments as postmodernist
nonsense that essentially absolve religion of
any inherent responsibility. So a real back and
forth about where responsibility lies, individuals,
interpretations, culture, or the religion's core
tenets. Exactly. This extended dialogue, this
whole controversy, it really challenges you,
the listener, to consider the pitfalls of generalizations.
Especially when discussing vast and diverse religious
traditions, it encourages a critical examination
of both religious defenses and secular critiques,
prompting crucial questions about how we can
discuss sensitive cultural and religious issues
responsibly and accurately. How do we avoid both
uncritical acceptance of problematic practices
and prejudice condemnation of entire groups or
traditions? It's a difficult balance. It is.
And it also powerfully exposes the complexity
of international relations human rights debates,
reminding us that there are rarely simple, universally
agreed -upon answers, and that even the definitions
of things like progress or responsibility or
causation can be intensely debated depending
on your framework. It's a crucial lesson in critical
engagement with public discourse. These public
engagements, from academic debates to media firestorms,
they really reveal a scholar deeply embedded
in the contemporary world whose professional
life intertwines significantly with his personal
journey and, well, public recognition. On a more
personal note, just to round out the picture,
Aslan was previously engaged to the journalist
Amanda Fortini, but that relationship ended back
in 2008. He then married Jessica Jackley in 2011.
She's an entrepreneur and author known for co
-founding Kiva, and she is Christian. So they
formed an interfaith family. They have three
sons together, which really brings home his message
of bridging divides quite literally within his
own home. It really does. His personal life,
particularly his interfaith marriage to Jessica
Jackley, provides a very tangible living example
of the principles he often espouses in his work.
It reflects his broader message of bridging divides,
finding common ground across different belief
systems, demonstrating how diverse faiths can
coexist and apparently thrive within a single
household. It shows a practical application of
his philosophical stance that religion is, perhaps
primarily, a personal language of faith. The
mention of his aunt being the well -known Iranian
-American pop singer Layla Farohar, or his interest
as a fan of Las Vegas Raiders professional football
team. These details also help humanize a figure
often at the center of intense academic and political
debates, reminding us that even public intellectuals
are complex individuals with varied interests,
family ties, passions, just like anyone else.
It gives you a more complete picture of the person
behind the public persona. And it's clear Aslan
is a figure who has not only contributed significantly
to public discourse, but has also been recognized
formally for those contributions. He's received
several awards and honors over the years, including
the 2014 Intersections Honoree, the 2013 Media
Bridge Builder Award from the Tannenbaum Center
for Interreligious Understanding that seems particularly
apt. Ever -fitting, yes. The 2013 Peter J. Gomes
Memorial Honor from his alma mater, Harvard Divinity
School, and the 2012 East West Media Award from
the Levantine Center. These various awards really
underscore the perceived impact of his work in
specific circles, particularly in fostering interreligious
dialogue, bridging cultural divides, challenging
conventional narratives. That Media Bridge Builder
Award in particular highlights his unique ability
or at least the recognition of his ability to
translate complex scholarly ideas into accessible
public conversations across various platforms,
which is precisely what we've been unpacking
today. These honors indicate that despite the
controversies, despite the criticisms, his overarching
mission of promoting understanding and nuanced
perspectives is widely valued. at least within
certain institutions or organizations dedicated
to similar goals, it showcases the duality of
his public perception, a figure who both sparks
significant debate and earns significant recognition.
So where is he now? What's the current chapter?
Today, Reza Aslan remains a professor of creative
writing at the University of California, Riverside.
A role that seems to perfectly blend his academic
background with his narrative skill. He also
serves on various boards, including the National
Iranian American Council, or NIAC, which advocates
for the interests of Iranian Americans. In 2015,
as an NIAC member, he notably supported the Joint
Comprehensive Plan of Action that was the Iran
Nuclear Program Agreement, a highly contentious
political issue at the time and still debated.
Right, placing him firmly in certain policy debates.
Exactly. He is also a member of key academic
organizations like the American Academy of Religion
and the International Quranic Studies Association.
cementing his ongoing standing within the academic
community, despite any public debates about his
specific credentials or interpretations, his
continued academic role at UC Riverside, his
involvement with organizations like NIAC, various
advisory boards. It all demonstrates an ongoing
commitment to both scholarly pursuits and political
advocacy. His support for the Iran nuclear deal
highlights his engagement with real world policy
issues, consistent perhaps with his earlier call
to engage moderate political forces. It shows
a continuity between his academic analysis and
his practical involvement in current affairs.
So, wrapping things up after this deep dive.
Well, what we've really seen today is the journey
of a scholar who simply refuses to stay in any
single link, doesn't he? From navigating deeply
personal religious conversions, to penning bestselling
books that fundamentally challenge historical
narratives about both Islam and Christianity,
to producing television that seeks to illuminate
diverse, sometimes controversial cultures. Aslan
has consistently aimed to unpack complex truths
for a broad audience, even when it means facing
intense scrutiny, professional consequences,
or accusations from multiple sides. His career
is really a master class in intellectual boundary
pushing, for better or worse, depending on your
view. Yeah, he reminds us that expertise isn't
always neatly confined to a single academic department
or a single perspective, and that challenging
established narratives, whether religious or
political or historical, often comes with both
accolades and fear. criticism. It's rarely a
smooth ride. Whether you agree with his interpretations
or his conclusions or not, his career forces
us to critically examine how we understand faith,
politics, history, and media in our incredibly
interconnected, often polarized world. He makes
us ask tough questions about how we consume and
evaluate information and from whom. So maybe
a final thought after this deep dive. You might
ask yourself this. In an age absolutely saturated
with instant information, with very strong opinions
flying everywhere, how much are we truly willing
to engage? To engage with ideas that come from
unexpected sources, perhaps from someone with
a different background than we expect, or ideas
that genuinely challenge our own preconceived
notions about who is allowed to tell certain
stories or what the correct interpretation should
be. That's a question worth pondering, isn't
it? As you continue your own deep dives into
the complex world around you,