Mustafa Akyol, is a distinguished American scholar of Turkish origin, author, and public intellectual, whose reformist ideas on Muslim world have sparked deep conversations across the academic world and beyond – But this week, he was in news for a different reason.
Imran Khan, Pakistan’s most popular leader, and former Prime Minister, shortlisted Akyol’s book, “Reopening Muslim Minds: A Return to Reason, Freedom and Tolerance” for study in his prison cell. Khan, contemporary world’s most celebrated prisoner of conscience, has refused surrendering to the diktats of country’s powerful army chief, Gen Asim Munir, and is facing a virtual solitary confinement for more than two years. Politicians imprisoned before him, like Nawaz Sharif, used to demand delicious foods but Khan is different- he demands books.
Humbled to see that my book, “Reopening Muslim Minds,” caught the eye of Pakistan’s former Prime Minister Imran Khan in his jail cell.
I hope that he gets freed soon — and that justice rises above politics in Pakistan and elsewhere. #Freedom #Justice #PakistanZindabad🇵🇰❤️ https://t.co/5iXcAdx4OR
— Mustafa Akyol (@AkyolinEnglish) August 26, 2025
Mustafa Akyol is currently a senior fellow at the Cato Institute in Washington, D.C., where he focuses on Islam and modernity. Over the past two decades, he has written extensively on politics, religion, and philosophy — becoming a leading voice for rethinking the role of reason, freedom, and pluralism in Muslim societies.
Among his influential works is Islam Without Extremes: A Muslim Case for Liberty, which challenged authoritarian and literalist readings of Islam and called for a return to its rich intellectual traditions. But perhaps his most widely discussed book, especially in South Asia, is Reopening Muslim Minds: A Return to Reason, Freedom, and Tolerance. In this book, he traces how Islam’s early rationalist traditions were sidelined, and why Muslims today must reclaim those ideas to navigate the challenges of modernity.
The fact that, Muslim world’s most popular leader wants to read Akyol’s book, tells us something about the significance of Mustafa Akyol’s thought. That it speaks not just to academics, but to leaders, politicians, and millions searching for a more humane, reasoned, and dignified understanding of Islam in the modern world.
Moeed Pirzada, Editor Global Village Space, has invited Mustafa Akyol to understand his ideas — his intellectual journey, his views on reform and freedom, his critique of authoritarianism, and how these resonate in Pakistan and Turkey’s current struggle. This promises to be a conversation at the intersection of faith, politics, and the future of Muslim societies.
Dr. Pirzada: I would like to explore your ideas, your intellectual journey, your views on reform and freedom, your critique of authoritarianism, and how these resonate in Pakistan’s current struggle and also in Turkey’s struggle across the Muslim world. This promises to be a conversation at the intersection of faith, politics, and the future of Muslim societies. Mustafa Akyol, thank you for finding time for my viewers. I am very glad. In fact, let me say that I was looking forward to speaking with you. I have been following your writings, both in the press and in your books, while I was in Pakistan, and for the past several months I was trying to reach out in one way or another. We have not been able to speak before, but I am very glad, and I feel privileged that you are joining me in this discussion today.
Akyol: Thank you very much for this very kind and generous introduction. I am not sure if I deserve every nice thing you said, but that is very kind. I am very glad that we finally have had the chance to meet. We communicated several times in the past couple of years. Thank you for your interest in my work. I have been trying to write about Islam and issues concerning Islam in the modern world, trying to do two different things. One is to offer some new perspectives to Muslims around the world on important issues as I see them, and to bring some positive intellectual change on certain topics, which we can discuss.
The other angle, which I have also found myself working on, is challenging Islamophobic and anti-Islamic narratives in the West, which are very concerning. The more I live in the West, the more I see how important this problem is, because while we certainly have issues within Islam, there are also people who unfairly depict Islam as a threatening religion or who hold militant attitudes against Muslim societies. They do not care about the destruction of our lives, whether in Gaza, Kashmir, or elsewhere. So I try to challenge those anti-Islamic views. At the same time, I also try to challenge certain views within the Ummah that unfortunately justify those Islamophobic claims, because when Islam is portrayed as an intolerant and violent faith, people who condemn it begin to sound as if they have an argument. So I find myself between these two positions.
I began writing on these matters in Turkey, where I am from, and in the past seven years I have been in the United States working at the Cato Institute, which is a think tank devoted to classical liberal ideas such as individual freedom, limited government, markets, and peace. Peace is very important, and I am proud that Cato is a think tank that has opposed militarism, which is otherwise strong in some circles in Washington. My work is about reconciling universal ideas of freedom, human dignity, and human rights with Islamic understandings, which I believe already exist in our tradition. At times, however, these elements are like diamonds buried in the ground, which must be brought to light.
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Dr. Pirzada: So my first question is that Reopening Muslim Minds argues for reviving reason, freedom, and tolerance in Islam. Can you explain what pushed you to write this particular book, and why you felt that this moment in history demanded it?
Akyol: That is a very big question. Thank you. This book is the culmination of perhaps two decades of being a Muslim, reading the Quran, studying interpretations of the Quran and Islamic sources and traditions, while at the same time observing the world, seeing discussions among Muslims, and discussions about Islam in the West and within the Ummah. I realized that we have a richer tradition than what we sometimes narrow it down to. There are important virtues within it, but we often confine our understanding.
People in Pakistan will be familiar with this. I have seen it in Turkey as well. People say, “I am in this sect, I am a Barelvi, I am a Deobandi, I am a Sunni, he is a Shia. They are the heretics, this person is a heretic.” People put themselves in very narrow boxes and cling to them, let alone consider any ideas from outside. Anyone else is quickly dismissed as a non-believer, an infidel, or a Westerner.
Yet our civilization was great one thousand years ago. Every Muslim knows this. We were the civilization that produced the greatest scientists and the most significant achievements in mathematics, philosophy, medicine, and astronomy. We are proud of that. But what was the secret of that golden age?
In the book, I explore this question, and one answer is that we were once an open-minded civilization. We were confident and did not shy away from learning what the Greeks were saying, or engaging with Greek philosophy, or even looking into some Hindu traditions. We did not accept everything, but Muslims translated Aristotle, Plato, and Galen, and brought that heritage into Islam. It was not because it was fully compatible, but because knowledge was universal, and they believed that God gave reason to all human beings. So even if Aristotle was a non-believer, his observations and knowledge about the world were valuable.
This universality of knowledge was recognized by early Muslims, and I believe it was the source of our success. Thinkers such as Ibn Sina, Ibn Rushd, and Al-Biruni carried it forward. But what happened in the past few centuries, even earlier, is that stagnation set in within our tradition. At some point we said, “Enough.” We do not need to think further, we do not need to explore further.” And since then there has been stagnation. For example, in the Ottoman Empire, by the seventeenth century, scholars were saying, “We do not need philosophy anymore. We have the Hanafi tradition, we have jurisprudence, that is enough.” But in the meantime, in Europe, people were building on Aristotle and moving forward with science, technology, and philosophy. That created the great divergence between the West and the Muslim world.
So in my book I argue that Muslims should rediscover their rationalist traditions. I do not mean abandoning Islam, but rather realizing that Islam has always had a rationalist heritage. Think of the Mu‘tazilites, or scholars like Ibn Rushd. Their legacy is still with us, and if we engage with it again, we can revive reason, freedom, and tolerance in our own societies.
What pushed me to write this book at this particular time is that I see the urgency. When I look at Muslim societies today, I see tremendous challenges: authoritarianism, extremism, sectarianism. I also see many Muslims who want a different path, who want dignity, liberty, and peace. I thought it was important to offer an intellectual framework that is rooted in our tradition yet relevant to the modern world. That is why I wrote Reopening Muslim Minds.
Dr. Pirzada: Let me now come in. As you started to speak, you mentioned more than 1000 years ago, the Mu‘tazila versus the Ash‘ari debate, which is something like the tenth or eleventh century. We are now in the twenty-first century. Do you think that is the point where the stagnation began to set in? While the Turks and the Ottomans conquered Constantinople in the fifteenth century, do you think even then we were already on the path towards stagnation? At that time our military prowess was amazing, and Europe, Western Europe in particular, used to shiver. It was afraid of Muslim power. But even then, was mental stagnation taking place?
Akyol: Well, there are different areas and different levels. The Mu‘tazila–Ash‘ari debate is one such example. I am glad that the debate happened, but I am saddened that it was shut down by declaring it out of bounds and silencing the Mu‘tazilites. People eventually even forgot what their ideas were.
Dr. Pirzada: What was the debate? People forgot what their ideas were. What exactly was that debate?
Akyol: In the book I emphasize the Mu‘tazila, the early theological school of Islam, actually the pioneers of Islamic theology, what we call Kalam today. People now study Ash‘ari Kalam or Maturidi Kalam, but the Muslims who built Kalam in the first place were the Mu‘tazilites. And Mu‘tazilism was not outside of Sunni Islam, although people sometimes perceive it that way today. The early Mu‘tazilite scholars were mostly Hanafis. There was an interesting early Hanafism with Mu‘tazilite influences, as well as Murji‘ite influences, which I also discuss. Then there was a reaction against these schools on certain points.
In the book I try to show what the debate was about and why it was important. On some issues, I believe the Mu‘tazila were right, and I make that case. People sometimes ask me, “Are you a new Mu‘tazilite?” I say no. I do not subscribe to any one school. On some issues they were wrong, and they certainly erred when they used government power at one point to uphold their views. That was a mistake. So it is not that everything they said was correct.
But here is one particularly important debate: the question of husn wa qubh, as scholars would say. This is a very interesting philosophical question. God has commandments. We know Allah has said, “Do not kill, do not steal,” or that zakat and charity are good. The question is, are these things good and bad because He said so? Or were they good and bad even before revelation, and God is simply teaching us about them? In other words, does the law indicate values that exist independently?
This is called the Euthyphro dilemma. It was discussed in Christianity and in other traditions as well. The Mu‘tazila, and later to a large extent the Maturidis, said yes, things are right and wrong even before revelation. There is an objective moral order. The Ash‘arites, on the other hand, said no, things are right and wrong only because God commands them. Beyond the Sharia there is no ethical value out there in the world. It is revelation that establishes ethical value. Ultimately, the Ash‘ari view largely prevailed in Sunni Islam.
Now, why is this important? Because if you say ethical values are established only by revelation, then why would you study Aristotle’s ethics? Why would you think that someone who is not a Muslim might have a good idea? You would say, “Only my religion, only revelation shows me what is right and wrong,” and therefore you would stick only to the text. Whereas if you believe that there are objective values, then you are open to engaging with other sources of wisdom.
Dr. Pirzada: If I am not mistaken, the Muslim civilization heavily borrowed from Greek philosophy and Greek thought in the initial three or four hundred years. Muslims actually translated almost everything that was produced by ancient Greece into Arabic.
Akyol: Exactly, yes. Muslims were the ones who ultimately brought that heritage into Europe. From Andalusia, through the writings of Ibn Rushd — known in Europe as Averroes — the works of Aristotle entered back into Europe. That played a major role in starting what would become the Renaissance, and ultimately the scientific revolution and the Enlightenment.
Of course, later some aspects of Greek philosophy itself were rejected, and new perspectives arose. But the methodology of studying the world, inferring laws, the idea of causality, the belief in human nature and universality — those ideas came from Greek philosophy. I believe many of them were sound. Not all of them, of course. The Greeks were not monotheists, so they had many metaphysical ideas that were wrong, and it was right to reject those.
But here is the crucial point: as Muslims, we believe the Qur’an is revelation, just as the Bible was revelation. But is this the only way God has shown human beings a way forward? Is this the only source of wisdom? If you look at the Qur’an, you find something else called fitrah, human nature. One verse says God has revealed to humanity both fujur, the tendency to sin, and taqwa, the way to stay away from sin and walk the right path. That is embedded in human nature.
So even someone who is an Eskimo, a Swede, or a Japanese person can be ethical, upright, and build a good civilization. As Muslims, we should be able to engage with that, recognizing that not everything out there is correct, but also not rejecting it simply because it comes from outside.
Dr. Pirzada: I want to come back to this. And I also realize that many of our viewers will be eager to discuss what Imran Khan might gain by reading your book in his jail cell. But before we come to that, I have something in my hand. This is a printout from your book. Let me read a passage, which will also appear on the screen.
“This faintness of theology, which we will call Kalam from now on, among Sunnis is not an accident. After the initial centuries of Islam, which were intellectually diverse and vibrant, there was a significant decline and marginalization of Kalam among Sunnis. Instead, jurisprudence became the primary discipline. As a result, Islamic culture became a legalistic culture, focusing on proper behavior rather than proper belief. Today, most Muslims live within this legal culture, which entails a plenitude of do’s and do not’s regarding prayer, fasting, almsgiving, ritual hygiene, dress codes, dietary laws, family laws, and most controversially, criminal laws. Even non-Muslims now also focus on this legal culture, because some of its rules conflict with modernity.”
How do you reflect on this today?
Akyol: What I am trying to say in the book is that I aim to bring some important Kalāmī issues to popular understanding. The issue of husn wa qubh — what is good and bad — is one example. Another is predestination versus free will. I try to show that there have been consequences to saying “yes” or “no” to these questions in our religious thinking.
In the first centuries, Kalam was more vibrant and diverse, with different views in circulation. Ultimately, certain views came to dominate, and others were pushed aside as heresy. But whose heresy is it? One Muslim’s heresy is another Muslim’s sincere faith. As I often say, for Salafis, all Kalam is heresy. For mainstream Sunnis, Ash‘arism is the correct position, while other views are not. Among Shi‘a, there are different perspectives again, often with negative views about rival schools. In other words, we put ourselves into boxes and declare the others wrong.
I believe Islam is full of amazing ideas. I am a Sunni Muslim, but I can learn from a Shi‘a scholar who lived ten centuries ago or one who is alive today. We may disagree on who was the rightful heir to Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, but we study the same Qur’an, the same Hadith, and we can engage with similar theological perspectives.
Now, regarding fiqh. Once Muslims lost sight of ethical perspectives that were grounded in universal reason, independent of religious texts, they attached themselves exclusively to the texts. The result has been literalism. That is ultimately what came to dominate fiqh.
Dr. Pirzada: Explain this literalism.
Akyol: Let me give one clear example, which I also give in the book. If you ask a Sunni scholar in Pakistan or elsewhere — Hanafi or otherwise — whether a Muslim woman can travel alone for a distance of three days, many will say no. She cannot do this without a mahram, a male guardian such as her father or husband. Why? Because there are Hadiths in Sahih al-Bukhari and elsewhere that say a believing woman should not travel alone without a mahram for a distance of three days. In some versions, it is one day.
Classical scholars calculated what “three days’ journey” meant in their time, usually on horseback or camelback, and they determined it to be about forty miles. Based on that, they concluded that women cannot travel alone beyond that distance. Many scholars still hold this view today, and they apply it literally.
But there is another way of approaching this. Some Turkish scholars have argued — and I agree with this — that we need to understand why the Prophet, peace be upon him, may have said this in seventh-century Arabia. Between Mecca and Medina there were bandits in the desert. An unaccompanied woman would be vulnerable to attack in such a dangerous environment. Women did not carry weapons at that time, and it was indeed unsafe.
So the ruling was about security in a specific historical context. In fact, there is another Hadith that says a time will come when a Muslim woman will be able to travel to Hajj alone, in safety. That points to an evolving reality.
This is the approach of maqasid al-shariah — looking at the higher objectives or intentions of the law. Instead of taking the words literally, we ask: what was the purpose behind them? Both the Qur’an and the Sunnah operated in a historical environment. They always pointed to the right and moral path in that context. But if you simply replicate the rulings literally today, you may end up with unjust or harmful results — such as preventing a Muslim woman from visiting her sick father because she cannot travel alone.
Dr. Pirzada: Apart from the literal meaning of words, there is another problem, which is cultural. When I was living in Islamabad, in one of the posh and expensive F-sectors, my daughter — who is now nineteen but was sixteen at the time — wanted to go for a walk one hot summer evening. She asked me to accompany her to the park. I told her she could simply walk on the street, as I do. She looked at me with a sense of horror and said, “Daddy, are you mad? I cannot go out alone.”
In Pakistan, women — whatever their age, unless they are very old — do not feel safe walking outside their homes, even in cities like Islamabad that are considered relatively safe. But when we came here to Washington, she became free to walk around, visit different places, and not feel threatened.
So what are we to think of Muslim societies like this? Apart from cantonments and certain military areas in Pakistan, women are not free to walk on the footpaths.
Akyol: Well, that shows the kind of context in which one might argue a woman “needs a mahram,” exactly as you said. But it is, of course, very sad that we do not provide that security to Muslim women. In some parts of the Muslim world, or in places in the West, women do enjoy that security.
Not every problem in our societies comes from religion. There are also non-religious factors — a culture of male domination, aggressive masculinity, and the idea of women as prey. That is not unique to Muslim societies; it exists elsewhere too. But it is troubling to see it so entrenched in places like Pakistan, and to some extent in Turkey and other parts of the Muslim world as well.
There is also the presumption, unfortunately common, that a woman who is not fully covered with hijab — or even niqab — is somehow not “modest enough,” and therefore open to harassment. That is a very distorted and damaging interpretation of religion.
There is one verse in the Qur’an that our Muslim brothers too often overlook. In Surah al-Nur, the first command is directed not at women, but at men: “Tell the believing men to lower their gaze.” Lowering the gaze means not looking at women in a sexually interested or abusive way. Sadly, many Muslims skip over this verse and focus only on the following verse, which addresses women’s covering. That verse itself has multiple interpretations, which I respect, and Muslim women can choose their own understanding.
But the Qur’an first told men to lower their gaze — in other words, to stop harassing women in the streets. Unfortunately, we have emphasized certain issues while neglecting the deeper wisdom of the Qur’an. I think this is one such example.
Dr. Pirzada: Let me now come to a very interesting situation. In the past forty-eight hours, we learned that Imran Khan, while in prison, requested certain books he had been asking for over several weeks. They were initially denied to him, but then finally delivered. Someone took a photo of the list, and one of the books was your 2022 work, Reopening Muslim Minds.
What does it mean to you that a popular Muslim leader in a country of 250 million people — with nearly 80 percent public support — is trying to read your book in search of answers? What do you think he is hoping to find?
Akyol: First of all, I was humbled. It is an honor to know that someone as prominent as Mr. Imran Khan, the former Prime Minister of Pakistan, chose to read my book. Whether he will agree with it, enjoy it, or find it helpful is, of course, up to him. He requested a list of books, and mine was only one of them.
That said, I sincerely hope to see him free as soon as possible. I do not take political positions in Pakistan, nor do I support any political party there. My concern is for Pakistan as a country, as a fellow Muslim nation. But when popular politicians are jailed on charges that many people believe are more political than real, that is not good for the country. It undermines rule of law and erodes public trust in the system.
I have seen similar problems in Turkey. Unfortunately, my own father spent months in prison after the coup of 1980. Turkey is a beautiful country with many accomplishments, but for more than a century it has also been at war with itself through political purges and cycles of repression. If we could fight less among ourselves, we would be happier and contribute more — both to the world and to the Muslim ummah.
So whenever a politician ends up in jail, his supporters naturally feel a sense of injustice. And that is not healthy for any society, even without knowing the exact legal details of the case.
Dr. Pirzada: Have you been to Pakistan?
Akyol: Unfortunately, not. I have been invited a few times, but never had the chance to go. I would love to. I have many friends from Pakistan here in the U.S. — we often meet, and I have learned a lot from Pakistani scholars. I have also read widely, from Allama Iqbal to Fazlur Rahman Malik, who I believe was one of Pakistan’s great intellectual contributions to the Muslim ummah. He later taught at the University of Chicago until the late 1980s.
I continue to follow Pakistan’s politics and public debates. I think it is a fascinating country — one built on a strong Muslim identity — and I have great hopes for its future, despite its many challenges.
When I was a child in Turkey, there was a very popular song, Jeevay Pakistan, which I remember singing. I know Pakistan has lived under the constant shadow of conflict with India, and I wish for those disputes — including the long-standing Kashmir issue, where Muslims have suffered persecution for decades — to be resolved peacefully. Inshallah, one day I will visit Pakistan. Not yet, but I sincerely hope soon.
Dr. Pirzada: You said Pakistan is a country built on a strong Muslim identity. Do you think countries can be built on religious identities?
Akyol: Well, in reality, countries are built on history and collective identity. If you go to Bulgaria, for example, it is built on the Bulgarian identity, closely tied to the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. Or Greece — its dominant identity is Greek, historically tied to the Greek Church.
In the former Ottoman geographies, you often see one dominant identity, whether ethnic or religious. In Turkey, for instance, the dominant identity is “Turkish,” which almost automatically implies being Muslim, even if one is secular.
Now, the key issue is this: a dominant identity is natural, but it must be respectful toward minorities, treating them as equal citizens. Of course, the majority identity will be more visible — it may define the official language, for example — but that should never justify discrimination.
Turkey itself has struggled with this. We have Kurds, Armenians, Jews, and Orthodox Christians. Their numbers have declined over the past century, and Turkey has not always respected their rights, which I have been openly critical of. Similarly, Turks in Greece or Bulgaria were also persecuted.
So yes, countries often have a “main color,” so to speak. But the measure of justice is how minorities are treated. That is what truly matters.
Dr. Pirzada: But Mustafa, you also have a majestic 600-year-long Ottoman history. How do you reflect on the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire? Many Pakistanis see it as a Western conspiracy — especially a British one. The Khilafat Movement in India, as you know, mobilized millions of Muslims in support of the Ottoman Caliphate. That legacy is still taught in Turkish school textbooks.
When I visited Turkey, I felt very much at home — Pakistanis love Turkey, and Turks seem to feel warmly about Pakistan as well. But how do you personally reflect on the fall of the Ottoman Empire, which united Arabs and non-Turkish Muslims under one banner, and the transition into the Turkish nationalist Kemalist state?
Akyol: First of all, I must say that we Turks — and certainly I myself — fondly remember how the Muslims of India heroically and selflessly supported Turkey during its War of Independence. Women even sent their gold to Anatolia to help us resist foreign occupation. We have never forgotten that, and there are strong bonds of memory and affection between our peoples.
As for my own identity, when people ask me who I am, I often say: I am an Ottoman Muslim. I am ethnically Turkish, though my roots also trace back to the North Caucasus. Turkey itself is a mix — Bosnians, Albanians, Circassians, and Turks together. I take pride in that Ottoman heritage, because the Empire was not only the protector of much of the Muslim ummah but also a refuge for others.
Jews, for example, found a safe haven in the Ottoman Empire when they were expelled from Spain. Many Christians, Armenians included, lived and contributed within the Empire for centuries — until the tragic events of 1915, when they were expelled and massacred in what was a horrific consequence of rising nationalism.
And that is the key point: what really destroyed the Ottoman Empire was nationalism. The urge to create separate nation-states began in the Balkans — Greeks, Serbs, Bulgarians, and later Albanians. The Ottomans tried to counter this with the idea of “Ottomanism,” seeking to create a shared identity that included Muslims and non-Muslims alike.
The Tanzimat reform era was central to this effort. It sought to abolish the dhimmi system, grant legal equality to non-Muslims, and even introduced a parliament. These were remarkable reforms within a still-caliphate Ottoman state. But it was too late. Nationalist movements prevailed, leading to the Balkan independence struggles, the Armenian tragedy, the Arab revolts, and finally the disintegration of the Empire.
Dr. Pirzada: Speaking of the Arab revolts, which are much closer to the Muslim consciousness — do you think they were inevitable given the rise of nationalism? Or were they more a result of British manipulation, Lawrence of Arabia, and European designs?
Akyol: There was definitely British manipulation. The British viewed the Ottomans as an obstacle and believed Wahhabism might produce a kind of “Protestant Islam,” more compatible with their interests. Their writings from that era reflect this view.
Dr. Pirzada: So the British capitalized on Wahhabi Islam?
Akyol: Exactly. But it is important to note that the story is more complex than “the West destroyed the Ottomans.” In fact, throughout the 19th century, Britain and France were allies of the Ottoman Empire against its real enemy: Russia.
There were over a dozen Russo-Ottoman wars. Russia consistently sought to seize Ottoman lands and fueled nationalist uprisings in the Balkans. Against this, the Ottomans allied themselves with Britain and France. In the Crimean War of 1853–56, Ottoman, British, and French troops fought together against Russia — in Crimea, the very territory Russia occupies again today.
So the Ottomans did not see “the West” as a monolithic enemy. They made alliances pragmatically — with Britain and France for much of the 19th century, and later with Germany in the early 20th century, when Britain aligned itself with Russia.
I emphasize this because today many Muslims hold a categorical anti-Western sentiment, saying “the West destroyed us.” But the Ottomans themselves did not think this way. They navigated alliances strategically.
Dr. Pirzada: Coming back to political science — your field. Many Muslims, especially in Pakistan, yearn for a Khilafat. They imagine it as a kind of confederation or federal system. After all, the Indian Union holds together 1.4 billion diverse people under one federal framework, and the United States expanded into a quasi-imperial order from its 13 colonies. So is a modern “Muslim Empire,” or confederation, possible?
Akyol: You are asking very big questions! Let me try to unpack this.
As a Turk, I personally believe it was a mistake when Mustafa Kemal Atatürk abolished the caliphate in 1924. By then, Turkey was already a republic. The caliphate could have continued as a symbolic institution — something like the Vatican — with its own budget and authority, serving as a moral and religious authority for Sunni Muslims.
It would not have been the head of an empire anymore, but it could have provided guidance, issued statements, and acted as a center of scholarly authority. Instead, Atatürk abolished it entirely — largely because he wanted all power concentrated in himself. He was an authoritarian leader, and this was one of his major mistakes.
That said, I do not believe the solution to the ummah’s problems today lies in reviving a caliphate. For one, the caliphate is not a religious obligation. It is not mentioned in the Qur’an or Sunnah. It was a political solution Muslims developed after the Prophet’s death. Some caliphs were good, some were disastrous. It is not a divine mandate.
Moreover, many Muslims today argue that “if only we had a caliphate, we would not have lost Palestine or Andalusia.” But the truth is, we lost those lands while we had a caliphate. The Ottoman Empire was a caliphate when it lost Palestine in 1917, the Balkans before that, and Andalusia centuries earlier.
So to think a caliphate is a magical solution is unrealistic. What we really need is greater cooperation among Muslim countries, stronger economies, cultural flourishing, and peace. The “spirit” of the caliphate — unity and shared purpose — might be revived through institutions like the OIC, if strengthened. But appointing a “new caliph” today would only spark disputes — which country, which sect, which lineage? Even historically, the establishment of caliphates was marked by bloody civil wars.
Our problem is not the absence of a supreme leader. Our problem is weak governance, poor economies, and internal divisions. Instead of dreaming of a new caliphate, Muslims should be asking: why do we not have a “Muslim Samsung” or “Muslim Hyundai”? Why can’t we replicate the success of countries like South Korea? That, I believe, is the real challenge.
Dr. Pirzada: That reminds me — when you said Mustafa Kemal should not have abolished the caliphate, it struck me as similar to what Amin Maalouf, the Lebanese writer, has argued: that Muslims lost a moral authority comparable to the Vatican. The Catholic Church, over time, adapted to modernity — it eventually made peace with science and technology, even if reluctantly. But Muslim thought remains stuck in the 8th, 9th, or 10th centuries.
A Pakistani woman today can take a flight from Karachi to London or Washington, change planes in Dubai, and do so independently. Yet Muslim clerics still debate whether she is even allowed to travel without a male guardian. So yes, Muslims are flying by air — but intellectually, many clerics are still debating medieval questions.
Your point about authority also connects with Samuel Huntington’s famous 1993 Foreign Affairs article, The Clash of Civilizations, which later became a book. Huntington argued that the Muslim world’s crisis was its lack of a “core state.” He considered five candidates: Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Indonesia, and Turkey. He dismissed all but one — Turkey — as having the potential to be a model Muslim state, given its Ottoman legacy, relative economic strength, modernity, and proximity to Europe.
But Huntington said Turkey was “holding a begging bowl” at Europe’s doorstep, trying to join the EU. He argued that once Turkey realized its destiny was not in Europe, but in leading the Muslim world, it could play that role. With the rise of the AK Party, many thought that moment had come. You initially welcomed it, but later grew disappointed, as your writings suggest. Did Turkey have that moment, and did it lose it? What went wrong?
Akyol: Turkey, despite all its problems, remains a pivotal country in the Muslim world. I do not believe there will ever be “one leader of the ummah,” but Turkey certainly carries great weight.
Now, my ideal vision of Turkey actually lies in the late Ottoman Empire, especially during the reformist Tanzimat and constitutional periods. In the republican period, Atatürk is a figure I respect as a war hero who defeated invading powers and established the Turkish Republic. But he was also an authoritarian who imposed one-party rule and rigid secularism.
I am in favor of secularism understood as neutrality of the state toward religion — where all citizens are treated equally, without discrimination. But Turkish secularism went much further: closing religious schools, banning Sufi orders, even banning the hijab in public life by the 1990s. That was oppressive. I opposed it, just as I oppose hijab bans in Europe today.
This heavy-handed secularism alienated Turkey’s conservative Muslim majority. That is the background from which the AK Party emerged. In its first decade, it was inspiring. It promised freedom not only for religious conservatives, but also for Kurds, Alevis, and others. Coupled with the EU accession process, it ushered in Turkey’s golden years between 2002 and 2012.
But since then, things have declined — in the economy, in freedom of speech, in rule of law. We moved from Kemalist hegemony to a new conservative hegemony. Even some of the AK Party’s founding members are disillusioned today.
That said, I still believe Turkey has much to offer. It is a society where Islam has thrived under a secular state for a century — proof that you do not need an “Islamic state” for Muslims to live their faith. It has a tradition of elections and democratic struggle. Despite setbacks, I believe democracy will endure.
Turkey will be a better model for the Muslim world not by dominating others, but by showing how a pluralist state can accommodate its secular, liberal, and devout citizens alike. That, to me, is the ideal Turkey — and perhaps the most valuable lesson we can offer to the ummah.
Dr. Pirzada: In the very beginning of this discussion, you referred to yourself as an Ottoman Muslim. Many — I’ve even read a book — refer to Erdoğan as a kind of Turkish Sultan. So whereas you are the Ottoman Muslim, he is now being seen as the Ottoman Sultan. It’s been almost 25 years that he has been the repository for all power in Turkey. How do you look towards the future of Erdoğan and the AK Party?
Akyol: President Erdoğan is, of course, the dominant figure in Turkey. When he eventually loses power, there might be a different political formula in Turkey. I don’t know when that will happen — maybe in the next year, maybe after another term — who knows? I cannot predict the future.
But let me say one thing, not about him personally, but about myself. Yes, I call myself an Ottoman Muslim. The real question is: what do we take from the Ottoman Empire? What do we idealize? What aspects do we want to bring forward into today’s world?
For some people, the Ottoman Empire symbolizes a mighty Sultan — powerful, obeyed by all, conquering new lands. That is certainly a part of Ottoman history. I’m not against acknowledging it, but that is not what I want to revive.
What I would like to revive is the Tanzimat and Meşrutiyet periods, when the Ottoman Empire began moving toward a constitutional monarchy and a parliamentary democracy. The Ottomans established a constitution in 1876 — a pretty liberal constitution for its time — which emphasized equal rights for all citizens and created an elected parliament. Non-Muslims, including Jews and Christians, were part of it. This was also the era of legal reforms, women’s education, and modernization.
Thinkers like Namık Kemal — another hero of mine — studied Montesquieu and Western liberal thought, and tried to synthesize it with Islam. Khayr al-Din al-Tunisi, a great Tunisian thinker who later became a top vizier in the Ottoman Empire, wrote about the importance of freedom and how it benefits society.
So I want to revive that Ottoman spirit — modernity, progress, and freedom in harmony with religion — rather than the idea of a Sultan controlling everything. That process ultimately made the elected parliament and government more important than the Sultan himself. I see that as a positive evolution.
I don’t want to revive the medieval Ottoman Empire. Its power was impressive, yes, but its autocratic system is not something that can work today.
Dr. Pirzada: But Turkey’s quest for leadership of the Muslim world is effectively challenged by the Saudis and their allied states. You may recall that a few years ago, then–Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan joined hands with Erdoğan and Malaysia’s leadership to create a new bloc — dissatisfied with the OIC and Arab leadership, and to raise Muslim issues. Imran Khan, apparently, had to pay a huge price for this. He became unpopular, and Pakistan faced the threat of economic pressure from the Middle East, where a huge number of Pakistanis work, especially in Saudi Arabia and the UAE. So there is in fact an internal rivalry and competition for leadership of the Muslim world. How do you see this?
Akyol: You’re quite right about that. But I think we may have gone beyond the period you are describing — when there was deep suspicion about Turkey in some Arab capitals, including the one you mentioned.
Today, I see a different, more positive dynamic. Turkey and Saudi Arabia are actually coming closer to each other, particularly over Syria. Both want a post-Assad Syria that is stable, rebuilt, and engaged with the outside world. The UAE is also, I think, aligned with Turkey on this.
And of course, all these Muslim countries — rightly, I believe — are horrified by the violence in Gaza, the horrific campaign the Israeli government has been pursuing for the past two years. The destruction of innocent life there has brought their positions closer together.
I’m not a political observer, so I don’t want to predict exactly where things are going. But I will say this: Muslim countries have often wasted energy in unnecessary confrontations. For years there was a bitter confrontation between Qatar and Saudi Arabia, which has thankfully calmed down.
We cannot afford petty fights among ourselves, when the world outside is dangerous, and when we should be supporting each other. Look at Syria — more than half a million people killed by the regime and civil war. Instead of undermining each other, Muslim countries should be helping to rebuild and stabilize such nations.
So yes, rivalries existed. But I believe today we are in a better place than before, and I hope to see even more cooperation between Muslim countries in the Middle East and beyond.
Dr. Pirzada: You mentioned Syria, and Turkey has a special interest there. Bashar al-Assad’s government used to challenge Erdoğan by saying, “The Ottoman Empire has ended, and Turkey should not treat Syria as a subject state.” But Syria and Iraq, from the 1960s onwards, were ruled by the Ba’ath Party — ferociously secular, just like Kemalism in Turkey. They were also anti-Western, aligned at times with the Soviets, opposed to Israel. They modernized their societies, promoted education, science, technology, and women’s rights.
And yet, both collapsed. With their collapse, we saw Israel grow more powerful. How do you look at this experiment of modernist Muslim states over the last 50–60 years? Leaders like Jamal Abdel Nasser, the Ba’athists in Syria and Iraq, Saddam Hussein, Gaddafi — all collapsed. They were removed and replaced, in many cases, by more conservative or Islamist-leaning regimes. What kind of change is this?
Akyol: Well, the Muslim world is vast, and Indonesia’s story is a little different, for example. But what you describe is very true, especially regarding the Middle East — Iraq and Syria in particular.
Here is the problem: after centuries of stagnation, when modernization finally came, it came in the worst form — Soviet-style one-party dictatorships. That was the model in Syria and Iraq under the Ba’ath, in Egypt under Nasser, in Libya under Gaddafi. These regimes were dictatorial, traumatized their populations, and stifled freedom.
Yes, they brought some progress — in education, infrastructure, women’s rights. But the cost was very high. The reaction against such regimes created turmoil that continues to this day.
The truth is, the Middle East never tried the only successful model of modernity: liberal democracy. Instead, it tried Arab socialism, Arab nationalism, big-government statism — which all turned corrupt and unsustainable.
Turkey was the exception. Because of its proximity to the West, NATO membership since the early 1950s, and its links with Europe, Turkey evolved — despite coups and problems — toward a more liberal democratic model, at least in certain periods. That is what made Turkey relatively successful: a stronger economy, a more educated population, and a functioning political system. God forbid, Turkey never descended into full civil war.
Turkey’s best years are the ones when it came closest to liberal democracy.
Dr. Pirzada: At what point would you describe Turkey as a liberal, secular democracy? As you yourself noted, from 1923 to 1948, the Kemalist state was a one-party system. Later, Kemalists — with support from the military and judiciary — constantly cracked down on Islamists and their parties. They even hanged Prime Minister Adnan Menderes. They cracked down on anyone who disagreed with them. So at what point would you really describe Turkey as a liberal democracy?
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Akyol: You’re right. The Kemalists cracked down on Islamists, on Kurds, even on Marxists — anyone outside their vision.
But there were periods that I would call Turkey’s golden years. Between 1950 and 1960, under Adnan Menderes, especially the first five years, Turkey lived a brilliant time. He took Turkey into NATO, benefited from the Marshall Plan, opened the country to the West, and also respected Islamic traditions. That’s why Islamic groups supported him. Unfortunately, he was overthrown and executed in a military coup — a terrible, shameful event.
Later, there were good years under Süleyman Demirel and especially under Turgut Özal. My hero in Turkey over the past century is Özal, who governed from 1983 to 1993 as Prime Minister and President. He initiated the EU accession process, took Turkey into the European Court of Human Rights, opened up free markets, attracted foreign investment, and articulated what he called the “three freedoms”: freedom of markets, freedom of ideas, and freedom of religion.
He even tried to lift hijab restrictions in universities. He was a Muslim himself — he even went on Hajj — which shocked the Kemalists.
The early years of the AK Party — roughly 2002 to 2012 — were also good years, when Turkey made real progress.
So yes, Turkey had ups and downs. Kemalism contributed some positive things — for example, women’s rights came early in Turkey. But its authoritarian side left deep scars, especially among Kurds and Islamic groups. That turmoil could have been avoided if Atatürk had been a milder leader, less of a one-man show.
Dr. Pirzada: Do you think Erdoğan is a milder leader than Atatürk?
Akyol: They had very different ideologies, but one similarity: both built one-man rule around themselves. Erdoğan has done some great things, I don’t deny that, but I personally prefer leaders like Özal — more pragmatic, more relaxed, and focused on giving people freedom.
Dr. Pirzada: Mustafa, this brings us to the central thesis of your books — especially Reopening Muslim Minds. Muslim societies either face authoritarianism in the name of Islam — like the Taliban — or secular authoritarianism, like the Kemalists, the Ba’athists, or military rulers such as Ayub Khan. Muslim societies have not been able to strike a balance between Islamic inheritance and modernity. Why is that?
Akyol: This is partly a political science question — societies democratize or liberalize due to economic, political, and historical dynamics. But I’ll focus on the religious side, which is my area of writing.
We need to make our understanding of Islam compatible with liberal democracy. If Islam is understood in a Taliban-like way, secularists fear it so much that they try to suppress it. That suppression then justifies Islamist fears, and the cycle repeats. I call this preemptive intolerance.
I’ve seen this in Turkey. Secularists worried that Islamists would “put all women into hijab” and destroy women’s rights. Sometimes these fears were exaggerated, but not entirely. This fear made secularists authoritarian, too.
That’s why I argue for an understanding of religion built on advice, preaching, and ethics — not coercion. Not forcing women to wear hijab. Not flogging people for drinking alcohol. Not having blasphemy or apostasy laws that punish people for ideas.
We all quote the Qur’anic verse la ikrah fi al-din — “there is no compulsion in religion” — but we don’t fully live by it. That’s why I am writing a new book titled No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions.
For me, Sharia should be something believers voluntarily practice: fasting in Ramadan, not eating pork, praying. That is my Sharia. I don’t want the state to monitor me.
Just yesterday I read news from Malaysia: in one state, men who miss Friday prayers three times could face two years in prison. Imagine the state watching if you attend Friday prayers! This is not all across the Ummah, but it happens there.
Such coercion makes Islam look oppressive, fuels secular authoritarianism in Muslim societies, and even triggers Islamophobia in the West.
Our task should be to articulate Islam in a way that wins hearts and minds, not through fear and coercion.
Dr. Pirzada: Everything you say raises more questions in my mind. When you look at the Muslim world today, you see two basic models. On one hand, you have the clerics in Afghanistan, the Taliban, where women cannot go to school or university, cannot work, and are confined to the home.
On the other hand, you have Saudi Arabia, where Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman is experimenting with opening society: encouraging women to drive, study, work, even as casinos open, concerts are held, and international celebrities perform. But at the same time, political repression is intensifying, with even women intellectuals imprisoned.
And then there is Malaysia, which I once thought was a progressive society. But in your book, I read how the “religious thought police” arrested you, detained you, and took you to a Sharia court — just for writing in the United States that “there is no compulsion in religion.”
How do you explain all this?
Akyol: Well, I would like to see more freedom in every Muslim-majority country — not just on social issues, but definitely on political issues as well. So I’m glad that in Saudi Arabia, women can drive now and are not forced to wear the hijab. I believe it should be a Muslim woman’s own decision to wear hijab or not. I welcome those changes, but as you said, I wish they came with more political freedom, not continued repression.
I don’t want to get too much into specific countries, but this shows why we need to do some rethinking. That’s why I wrote Reopening Muslim Minds. The book begins with the story of how I was arrested in Malaysia by JAWI, the religious police.
It was during a conference on the issue of apostasy — ridda — asking whether people should be free to leave Islam. Now, as a Muslim, I don’t want to see anyone leaving Islam. But if they do, should I coerce them to come back? My answer is no. And I believe there is no basis for coercion in the Qur’an. There are many arguments on this, but in Malaysia it is a very sensitive issue. So the police arrested me, told me not to come back to Malaysia to talk about these things again, and released me.
Since then, I’ve been a little more cautious about some of my travels.
Dr. Pirzada: What countries are you not traveling to?
Akyol: Well, I should probably ask my wife for the full list. After the Malaysia incident, she told me: “Think twice before you go to countries where people might not like your ideas on religious issues.”
But here’s the broader point: let’s look at the world. Christianity was once worse than us. Christians killed each other for being heretics. Catholics and Protestants burned each other at the stake. How did they get out of that?
When I read John Locke — often called the father of political liberalism — I felt as if he were speaking to our issues today. In his famous book A Letter Concerning Toleration, he argued that governments should not persecute people for belonging to the “wrong” sect or having the “wrong” ideas. Instead, the state should respect everyone equally and leave religion to individual conscience and churches, as part of civil society.
That is how Christians resolved their bloody conflicts. And I think Muslims must go in the same direction. We should truly affirm the Qur’anic principle la ikrah fi al-din — “there is no compulsion in religion.”
That means people should be able to practice Islam as they believe — whether Sunni, Shia, majority, minority. It should be their choice. Of course, we can preach the beauties of Islam. But we should leave it at that. We should not hunt each other down as “heretics” or mubtadi‘ (innovators). We might not like someone’s ideas. We can say, “This is wrong from my understanding of Islam,” but we should be humble about it.
Of course, this is easy to say. The challenge comes when someone cites a particular commandment, or what Imam so-and-so wrote centuries ago. That is what I am trying to wrestle with, along with other Islamic scholars — including some excellent scholars in Pakistan.
This is why I am editing a new book titled No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions. It is not only my book; I wrote a few chapters, but other scholars are contributing chapters as well.
Dr. Pirzada: There are problems when you try to mix theory and philosophy with practical politics. For instance, Imran Khan promoted the idea of an Islamic welfare state — Riyasat-e-Medina, the Medina State. His welfare policies actually borrowed heavily from European models like the National Health Service and Scandinavian welfare states. But by branding it as an “Islamic State,” Riyasat-e-Medina, his critics in Pakistan branded him as “Taliban Khan,” an Islamist threat.
Even Western intelligence circles — in the United States and in India — began to view him as an Islamist. This seems to illustrate the challenge for Muslim leadership today. How do you reflect on that?
Akyol: There is definitely a problem with rigid secularists, who panic at any mention of Islam and immediately label you as “Taliban.” I have faced this myself in Turkey. If you talk too much about religion, for them it’s just one step before the Taliban. You see the same attitude in some Western circles.
Now, I haven’t studied Imran Khan’s discussion in depth, but broadly speaking, I see nothing wrong — in fact, something good — in Muslims taking inspiration from the Prophet. The key question is: what are we taking inspiration from? Which aspect of his example?
Take Medina. Why did the Prophet establish a polity there after the Hijra? Because he and the early Muslims were persecuted in Mecca. They simply wanted freedom to preach and practice their religion, but were denied it. So they migrated, and in Medina they needed to protect themselves.
What is crucial for me is the Constitution of Medina — or the Pact of Medina, as it is sometimes called. After a few months in Medina, the Prophet drafted a document — we don’t have the original paper, but it is cited in the earliest sources. It was essentially a covenant between Muslims, other Arab tribes, and the Jewish tribes of Medina. It stated, “The Jews who join us are one people with us. To the Jews their religion, to the Muslims their religion.”
So Medina was not declared an “Islamic State” in which Islam was the official religion. Rather, it was a civic entity in which different communities coexisted and defended the city against outside threats, mainly the Meccan pagans.
Of course, that was a very different world. The pact was between tribes, not individuals. We cannot copy it wholesale. But the spirit of pluralism is very important. That is what I would like to see revived in Muslim-majority countries today. To Muslims their religion, to others their religion — whether Christians, Jews, atheists, or anyone else. The state should be a civic organization, serving all its citizens and protecting their rights.
Now, today some Islamists say “the Qur’an is our constitution.” But the Prophet himself never said that. He actually made a constitution. Because the Qur’an is not a constitution. It is not a legal charter of government. It is a source of hidaya — spiritual guidance, moral edification.
A constitution, by contrast, is a civic text. It defines borders, citizens’ rights, and the duties of government. That’s what the Prophet created in Medina. And that is the true source of inspiration I see in the Prophetic model.
Dr. Pirzada: When you say “the Qur’an is not the constitution — it is guidance, it is instruction” — in many Muslim countries, this would be shocking. I don’t know how many countries you cannot travel to, but perhaps Iran, or even Saudi Arabia. Maybe MBS has changed things there. But for many Muslims, what you’re saying would be very controversial.
So when you emphasize Muslims living by reason, logic, and modernity — sure, you can discuss these ideas at the Cato Institute in the U.S. But can they be discussed openly in Muslim countries, where they are needed most?
Akyol: First of all, to Muslims who find this shocking, I remind them of the Ottoman Constitution of 1876, established under the Caliphate. If you respect the Ottoman Empire as the Khilafah, note that the Ottoman khilafah had a constitution. And it was not the Qur’an.
It was a legal text defining the structure of the empire. Remarkably, it declared that all citizens — regardless of religion — had equal rights. It also spelled out the duties of the Sultan and Parliament.
So what I’m saying is not new or outrageous. People just forget history and cling to slogans.
Now, can these issues be discussed openly in Muslim countries? It depends. I am not traveling to every Muslim country making public declarations. I write, I publish online, I speak on videos. Sometimes I don’t go physically, especially after the Malaysia incident.
But this is the age of the internet. Ideas can spread widely without physical presence. For example, my book Why, As a Muslim, I Defend Liberty was published in Dari in Afghanistan — after the Taliban took over. We even did a book launch. I did not go to Kabul to check whether the Taliban were happy. It was all done online.
I should also clarify: I am not a mujtahid. I am not claiming to be a mufti or religious authority. I am simply a Muslim thinking about these issues, drawing from our tradition, and trying to highlight sources within Islam that can help us rethink these questions. I am not giving fatwas.
Sometimes I point out that even Imam Abu Hanifa, 12 or 13 centuries ago, did not think like some Muslims do today. Even bringing that up can annoy people. But I believe we need these reminders.
Because in Islam, who “owns” Islam? It is God’s revelation, given to us. The Prophet delivered it, and we have the Qur’an and the Sunnah. Of course, the ulama are important, but the tradition is not frozen. Scholars must know not only the Qur’an, tafsir, and Hadith, but also the modern world we live in — and connect the two.
I am trying to offer perspectives in that spirit, while also learning from other Muslim scholars.
Dr. Pirzada: Are you hopeful about the Muslim diasporas in North America, Canada, the United States, the UK, Australia, New Zealand, and across Europe? Do you think the Muslim diasporas can provide a critical mass of new thinking?
Because in most Muslim countries, the free propagation of stimulating, critical, creative ideas is not possible. I’m not sure what’s happening in Turkey right now, but more broadly, I don’t see genuine debate being allowed in the Muslim world.
Dr. Pirzada: Are you hopeful about the Muslim diasporas in North America, Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand, and across different parts of Europe? Do you think the Muslim diasporas can provide a critical mass? Because in most Muslim countries, the free propagation of ideas is not possible. I mean, I’m not sure what’s happening in Turkey at the moment, but by and large, when I take a broader view, I don’t think any real publication of stimulating, critical, creative, or provocative ideas is possible anywhere in the Muslim world.
Akyol: Turkey is still relatively open, intellectually, on religious issues. There are more modernist or reformist theologians who publish and write. In Turkey, political issues are more sensitive than religious ones, which is why I don’t get into politics much anymore.
As for Muslim communities in the West, yes, I am hopeful, because I see a lot of Muslim academic and intellectual scholarship freely being discussed here. There are excellent scholars—my desk is full of their books. Sometimes they write in a very academic way, but I try to bring their insights to wider public attention.
That said, I also see two problematic dynamics. One, perhaps more common in Europe, is when Muslims close themselves off, forming very tight-knit communities that do not engage with the broader society. That isolation doesn’t help their own intellectual growth, and it also makes Westerners more suspicious of them—creating a vicious cycle.
On the other hand, there are also vicious Islamophobic circles in the West who will hate us no matter what. That’s another challenge. So I believe we need to reopen minds in the West as well—about Islam and Muslims—and work to dismantle prejudices.
It is a difficult time. In fact, I sometimes think this may be one of the most difficult eras in the 14 centuries of our Ummah. But history shows that from difficult times, new roads can open. Look at Christianity: after the Protestant Reformation, Europe went through a century of brutal violence between Catholics and Protestants. Yet out of that turmoil came political liberalism, religious moderation, and the Enlightenment. I hope something similar may emerge for us in due course.
Dr. Pirzada: Have you seen the video of a congresswoman from Texas—I think her name is Valentina—making those anti-Muslim remarks?
Akyol: Yes, I did. It was incredibly ugly—ignorance combined with aggression, and frankly unethical.
Dr. Pirzada: The interesting thing is that she is banking on Islamophobia that has been cultivated across Europe. She talks about beheadings and girls being raped—things not happening in North America—but she is trying to import that fear and hatred. In recent years, especially with the rise of the Trump administration, we have seen an alliance between white supremacists, certain Christian evangelicals, and hardline Zionist groups. Together they have targeted Muslims, immigrants, and people of color—each for their own reasons. Different streams of negative emotion are combining. How do you see that challenge for Muslims and immigrants in the United States, and what do you suggest?
Akyol: There are not a lot, but there are certain pockets of people who see Muslims only through the lens of terrorism—ISIS, al-Qaeda, bombings. They keep lists of “Muslim terror attacks.” I once told one of them: “You know, ISIS bombed my city, Istanbul, more than yours.” ISIS is such a deranged group that even the Taliban fights against it.
The problem is that people often judge a whole civilization by its worst elements. Some Muslims do the same when they say, “The West is only about Crusaders, colonialism, and killing.” That’s part of the West’s history, yes, and it must be criticized—but there are also many good people in the West who oppose those injustices.
So there is a vicious cycle of mutual caricatures. And yes, America also has its own issues—immigration tensions, polarization, cultural divides. But I think our task as Muslims is to be both proud of our faith and humble in our interactions. We need to reach out.
The Qur’an offers a beautiful example. When God sends Prophet Musa to confront Pharaoh—the very symbol of tyranny—He tells Musa: “Speak softly to him, maybe he will listen.” If even Pharaoh was to be addressed gently, then surely we should try to respond to hatred not with counter-hatred, but with calmness and dignity. That, I think, is our contribution.
Dr. Pirzada: That’s very interesting. So how should American Muslims respond to someone like Valentina Gomez and her aggressive, provocative statements?
Akyol: Sometimes the best response is simply to ignore them. People like that often just want attention. And if Muslims respond with anger—or worse, threats—it only “proves” their false claims that Islam is violent.
There are two types of people in this space. Some still have room for dialogue. To them you can say, “Look, maybe you misunderstand us. Did you know that Jesus and Mary are honored in the Qur’an you’re burning?” That might open a door to conversation.
But others are so fanatical that you cannot talk to them. With those, it’s best to walk away. The Qur’an advises believers: when they encounter ignorant speech, they “walk away with dignity.” That should be our guide.
So, when people burn Qur’ans in Sweden or elsewhere, what they really want is outrage and attention. By refusing to give them that, by denying them the reaction they seek, we actually win.
Dr. Pirzada: Let me take you back to some of the very interesting things you mentioned in your book, right in the opening chapters. You talk about a 12th-century Arabic book written by an Andalusian Arab scholar, which was later translated into Latin, and then into English in the 17th century, eventually reaching Oxford University.
I was fascinated by your account of this book. I had never heard of it before. Reading about it, I thought it was a combination of Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe and the character of Tarzan—someone growing up in the wild. I was shocked that a Muslim Arab writer in the 12th century produced such a futuristic, humanistic novel.
You also explain how this book influenced a whole series of 18th-century Western intellectuals, and later even the Quaker movement, which played such an important role in shaping America’s understanding of religious freedom—Pennsylvania, the Bill of Rights, and eventually even organizations like Amnesty International.
And then you raise a very painful question: why could Muslim societies not abolish slavery, even as Western societies were moving in that direction in the 18th century? In Pakistan, where I come from, people often criticize Americans and Europeans for slavery, but rarely acknowledge that Muslim societies also had slavery—and that Muslims did very little to abolish it.
Akyol: Thank you. Yes, my book Reopening Muslim Minds begins—after the introduction—with the story of Hayy ibn Yaqzan. It was written by Ibn Tufayl, a Muslim philosopher and scholar in Andalusia—Muslim Spain. He was the patron and teacher of Ibn Rushd, who later became famous for his commentaries on Aristotle. Ibn Tufayl himself was a philosopher, and his book is often called the world’s first philosophical novel.
It tells the story of a baby left alone on an island with no other humans, raised by animals. As he grows, he begins to observe the world. When the gazelle that nurtured him dies, he tries to revive it, dissects its body, and begins to learn about anatomy and biology. He studies the stars, reasons about the natural world, and ultimately concludes there must be a Creator behind everything.
He becomes a deeply ethical person: he never harms animals, preserves plants, and uses his intellect and conscience to live nobly—without ever having a formal religion. Later, he encounters a human society with organized religion. He recognizes similarities between their beliefs and his own discoveries, but he is also dismayed by the hypocrisy and narrow-mindedness of some believers. So, he returns to his island, choosing a philosophical life of reason, ethics, and devotion to God outside institutional religion.
The message is powerful: humans have an innate dignity and conscience, what Islam calls fitra—a divinely given moral core. Religion can guide us, but even without it, human reason and conscience can lead us to noble, ethical lives.
The book was forgotten in the Muslim world for centuries until a British scholar, Edward Pococke, discovered it in Aleppo in the 1600s. He translated it into Latin and published it at Oxford, where it became an Enlightenment bestseller. It spread across Europe—Amsterdam, Paris—and influenced Locke, Spinoza, and Leibniz. The Quakers loved it, because it echoed their belief that there is an “inner light” in every human being.
Of course, some in Europe were scandalized—asking, “How can you translate from the infidels?” (meaning Muslims). But still, it circulated widely and shaped European thought on reason, religion, and human dignity.
Dr. Pirzada: As you describe, there is also a part where another man arrives on the island from a community of believers. Together they visit his island, but he finds the people arrogant and unreasoning. In the end, he and his friend return to live on the original island until they die. What is the moral of that story?
Akyol: Yes, that part features his friend, Asal. They go to a society of believers, but are disappointed by the hypocrisy and superficiality there. So they choose to return to their island and live a life of reason and devotion to God without the trappings of organized religion.
The point is clear: religion gives us truths, but those truths are also accessible through reason. Some religious people fail to embody those truths, while some without religion may still live noble, ethical lives. That was the philosophical message Ibn Tufayl was putting forward, and it resonated with thinkers of the Enlightenment.
Dr. Pirzada: But here’s the paradox. The Quakers—an intellectually rich movement in the Western world, influenced by this very Muslim book—went on to become champions of human liberty in America. They played a central role in abolishing slavery. Yet Muslim societies never produced such an abolitionist movement.
Akyol: That’s a very important point. It is true—slavery was abolished in Muslim societies very belatedly, and largely under pressure from the outside world, especially Britain. During the Ottoman Tanzimat reforms, for example, British diplomats pushed the empire to ban the slave trade, which it eventually did.
But this came slowly, because much of the ulama at the time considered slavery sanctioned by Sharia. They debated the rules: how to buy and sell slaves, how to treat concubines, how to regulate the institution. Abolishing it entirely seemed to them like heresy. Reformers like Sir Syed Ahmed Khan in the subcontinent, who called for abolition in the 19th century, were accused of bid‘a—dangerous innovation.
Today, almost every Muslim acknowledges that slavery was wrong and that its abolition was right—except fringe extremists like ISIS. But just 150 years ago, abolition was still considered radical. This shows us something important: many values we resist today—such as universal equality before the law regardless of gender, sect, or religion—may seem threatening now, but in time will be recognized as both compatible with Islam and necessary for justice.
As for the Quakers, they valued Hayy ibn Yaqzan because it affirmed universal human dignity. They believed every human soul had worth, regardless of race, religion, or background. That belief led them to champion abolition. By contrast, in Muslim societies, the theological framework to make such a leap was weaker, and so slavery persisted until outside pressure forced change.
And yes, it should also be acknowledged: Western slavery, especially the American chattel system, was far more brutal than slavery in Muslim societies. In America, slaves had no rights, could be tortured or killed, and families were torn apart. In Islamic law, slaves retained certain rights: they could marry, buy their freedom, and mothers of children gained special status. It was still slavery—far from equality—but it was less dehumanizing than the racialized slavery of the Atlantic world. Ironically, because American slavery was so vicious, it provoked a stronger abolitionist movement there.
Historically, in many respects, Muslim civilization offered more tolerance—religious minorities often fled Europe’s persecutions to Ottoman lands, for instance. But in the last two centuries, while the West absorbed new values from liberalism and human rights, much of the Muslim world looked backward, insisting that “our Imams settled everything centuries ago.” My argument is: if those great Imams were alive today, they would be engaging with the modern world, not retreating from it.
Dr. Pirzada: It’s a fascinating discussion. I would like to continue this discourse. Could it be, from the perspective of political science, that when a civilization is ascendant—rising, confident—it becomes more open and tolerant? And when Muslims were the ascendant civilization, whether under the Umayyads, the Abbasids, or the Ottomans, they were more tolerant of Jews and other minorities. But when a civilization loses confidence, it becomes inward-looking, even regressive. Then we hear: “We have to go back to our roots.”
For instance, I’m perturbed by what I see in the United States. With the rise of the “Make America Great Again” campaign, it sounds like what Muslims often say—that we must return to our roots. For America, that means “we were white, we were Christians, and these immigrants—Muslims, Hindus, others—are hurting us.” Isn’t this the same dynamic? Rome, too, was very tolerant at the height of its power.
Akyol: Yes, definitely, that dynamic exists. It’s not an accident that the openness of Islamic civilization began to decline after the 11th century. Part of it was the Crusaders from the West and then the Mongols from the East—far more destructive—attacking us. Then in the past two centuries, colonialism came, both European and Russian, with endless wars and traumas in the Middle East. This history created an insular mentality: “Let’s just go back to the old scholars, we’ll find today’s answers there.” I don’t mean to disrespect those scholars, but the world today is very different. That path risks a downward spiral.
Precisely because of that, we need to resist the temptation to retreat inward and instead reopen minds. America, too, has voices saying: “We’ll be great not by isolating ourselves, but by engaging the world more respectfully and humanely.” America has made huge mistakes—militarism in the Middle East, and today a blank check for Israel—but it still has the potential to engage the world constructively.
Polarization, however, is a danger. I’ve seen it in Turkey, and it can ruin societies. We need to learn from history: whenever Muslim countries had less internal conflict, less authoritarianism, more freedom to think, write, trade, and engage across sects and religions, societies were more peaceful and prosperous.
Economic development is vital, and it comes not through the state controlling everything, but through entrepreneurship, creativity, science, technology, and education. It’s not rocket science. Look at non-Western success stories: Japan, South Korea, even China economically. Why don’t we have our own Japans or South Koreas? For that, we must stop weaponizing religion. Instead, we should keep religion in a dignified place—learn from it, be inspired by it—but not use it as a political weapon.
Dr. Pirzada: So, one last question. Have you been to Dubai? What do you think of the kind of experiment Dubai represents in terms of city governance?
Akyol: Actually, I’ve never been to Dubai—though I’ve transited through the airport on flights to Malaysia. I’ve been to Doha, Damascus, Baghdad, Cairo, Riyadh—but not Dubai itself. Still, I can say this: economic openness and rationality are valuable, and Dubai has pursued that. We certainly need more of it.
But I always want to add: economic freedoms must be matched by political and social freedoms. These things take time—they evolve rather than change overnight—but that’s the direction needed. Monarchies in the Middle East, like Jordan and Morocco, have actually been more stable and less oppressive than some republics, which often copied the Soviet one-party model and became family dictatorships, like in Syria.
Every society has its own history—monarchical traditions, tribal systems—but ultimately, what allows societies to flourish is freedom. Without it, societies suffocate. Freedom and justice together are key. Justice especially: people must trust that they will be treated equally by the law, no matter their sect, politics, or background.
Dr. Pirzada: That’s a difficult question for you. Given your intellectual growth and contributions—writing, debating ideas about the Muslim world—do you think it would have been possible if you had stayed in Istanbul? If you had not been in the United States these past several years, would you be the same person?
Akyol: I think so, to some extent. I lived in Istanbul until seven years ago, and I wrote some of my books there. But I came to the U.S. because I found a better institutional home to pursue these ideas. As a writer, you need institutions, and I’ve had that here: the Cato Institute, Boston College, the Acton Institute. America has many independent institutions, funded by NGOs, philanthropies, foundations—outside of government control—and that creates a flourishing intellectual scene.
In Turkey, I was a newspaper columnist and a university lecturer, but newspapers became monolithic, and universities less open. Turkey has grown more intellectually closed compared to ten years ago—that’s one reason I moved. But my books are still translated into Turkish, my writings are still read, so I remain part of the intellectual life there.
Dr. Pirzada: But if Turkey is closing down, if the “Muslim mind” there is narrowing over the past decade or so, which other countries remain where a Muslim scholar can still write and publish freely about the Muslim world?
Akyol: I wouldn’t say Turkey is fully closed—it’s going through a bottleneck, especially on political issues. Religion is actually less sensitive than politics. But beyond Turkey, Indonesia is very interesting: the largest Muslim-majority country, with strong scholarship and institutions contributing positively to the Ummah.
Pakistan, too, has remarkable scholars. Some are abroad—for example, Javed Ahmad Ghamidi, whom I had the chance to meet here in the U.S.
Dr. Pirzada: But the government forced him out—first to Malaysia, and then to the U.S.
Akyol: True, but that is the reality of our world. Even John Locke couldn’t publish his Letter Concerning Toleration in England; he had to go into exile in Holland. Sometimes ideas must travel before they can take root back home.
Dr. Pirzada: An Indian writer—Arundhati Roy—you might be familiar with her. She’s a brilliant writer who openly criticizes the Indian establishment and Hindutva, yet she continues to live inside India.
Akyol: Yes, I know of her. But I wouldn’t directly compare those contexts. India, as I see it, is also in a downward spiral. The intimidation and marginalization of Muslims there is a huge problem, and there is a strong Islamophobic narrative in certain circles. I hope India’s long-standing pluralist traditions will be strong enough to push back against that trend.
As for Muslim-majority countries, my personal favorite is Bosnia and Herzegovina, where my wife is from. In my view, it is the freest Muslim-majority country today—a genuine liberal democracy with freedom of speech, religion, and expression. I documented this in a Cato Institute report a few years ago. In North Africa, Morocco has also been experimenting with some interesting ideas.
There are positive and negative trends everywhere. I remain cautiously hopeful, for example, about Syria. After such horrific trauma, I hear the stories of refugees in Turkey and they are heartbreaking. But I hope that Syria can one day rebuild inclusively, respecting its minorities, and that outside powers will not succeed in destabilizing it further.
This is a long-term struggle. We will not wake up in three years to a completely transformed Muslim world. But we can avoid destructive alternatives. Ba’athism, for example, was a disastrous model that wasted decades in the Arab world. Militant Islamism is another, as seen in sectarian persecution, Taliban-style authoritarianism, or the coercion of women in Iran. Forcing religion through repression only leads to rebellion, as we saw with women burning their hijabs in protest.
History shows us that progress is possible, but it takes time. Europe did not suddenly become a continent of peaceful liberal democracies. Its history is full of religious wars, nationalism, fascism, and two world wars. But eventually, Europe learned from those tragedies. If Europe could become liberal, democratic, and prosperous, then I believe others can too.
Dr. Pirzada: Finally, I would like you to conclude with a message for the followers of Imran Khan—many of them see him as a great Muslim leader, and many are reading your book today. What would you say to them at this point?
Akyol: I don’t take sides in Pakistani politics, and I respect Pakistan as a nation. But I will say this: I hope Prime Minister Imran Khan is freed as soon as possible. If he wishes to return to politics, that should be his choice—and the people should decide his future through free and fair elections. If he governs well, people should re-elect him; if he doesn’t, they should vote him out. That is how democracy must function.
To those who oppose him, the answer is not repression but doing better at the ballot box. That is the true spirit of democracy.
I also wish strength and patience to his family. Having a loved one in prison is incredibly painful—I know this personally, as my own father was imprisoned when I was a child. Above all, I wish for Pakistan’s democracy to continue, to grow stronger, and to give all Pakistanis a better future.
Watch the full interview below: