Transcript

A Christian and a Muslim Walk Into a Bar | This American Life | Episode 879

From This American Life · Episode page · Watch on YouTube

· 59 min · 9,171 words · 160 timestamped sections

This is the full, timestamped transcript of "A Christian and a Muslim Walk Into a Bar | This American Life | Episode 879", an episode of This American Life published January 19, 2026 (59 min, about 9,171 words). It mentions 11 people, works and ideas, including Sharief Holmes, Maliki Mardinali, Aean Oana, Styia, Aleppo.

What this episode is about

The content explores the experiences of Sharief Holmes, a stand-up comedian in Syria, who faced censorship under the brutal regime of Bashar al-Assad, where political jokes could endanger his life. Following the unexpected overthrow of Assad's regime and the emergence of a new leadership promising change, the narrative reflects on the newfound freedoms and uncertainties in post-revolution Syria.

Key takeaways

  • In a country where jokes could mean death, silence was golden—until now.
  • The Assad era bred fear; now, comedy is the unexpected rebel telling risky truths.
  • Comedy tours in post-revolution Syria: laughter as a weapon against a history of oppression.
  • From a dictator to comedians: the irony of newfound freedom fueling a volatile stage.
  • Even humor has its casualties; comedy in Syria is a tightrope walk between risk and reconciliation.

Who speaks in this episode?

What is discussed, and when

  1. – 5:00: Sharief Holmes, Aean Oana, Styia, Ahmmed al-Shar
  2. – 10:00: Maliki Mardinali, Aleppo, American Life
  3. – 15:00: Aleppo
  4. – 20:00: Aean Oana, American Life
  5. – 25:00: Be a Great Standup, Harry Potter
  6. – 40:00: Aean Oana, American Life
  7. – 50:00: Aleppo
  8. – 58:46: Aleppo, American Life

Notable quotes from "A Christian and a Muslim Walk Into a Bar | This American Life | Episode 879"

  • Sharief Holmes is a stand-up comic in a place. It's not really known for its comedy scene, Damascus, Syria. As maybe you've heard, the place was run by a dictator for a long time, Bashar.
    about Sharief Holmes · at
  • Groups overthrew the regime in just 12 days. Assad, his wife Asma, and their family flew to Russia. The rebels were led by an Islamist group called Hayet Tier Al-Sam, HTS for short.
    about Hayet Tier Al-Sam · at
  • For everybody, comedians, the audience, they're all figuring out what's okay to say out loud. Aean Oana, a reporter based in Damascus, heard about all this.
    about Aean Oana · at
  • No, no, no. This is Maliki Mardinali, one of the founders of the group along with Sharief.
    about Maliki Mardinali · at
  • Dentist, a university lecturer, an engineer, students. They are mostly in their 20s and 30s. The group's name is a combination of Syria plus hysteria because that's what it…
    about Styia · at
  • I'm most scared of is Aleppo and Hama.
    about Aleppo · at
  • The Assad regime. It shows you how much things have changed in Syria this last year. It's about Asal Assad, the dictator's wife, who had breast cancer.
    about Asma al-Assad · at
  • Be a great standup is the name of the book.
    about Be a Great Standup · at

Who and what is mentioned in this episode?

People

  • Sharief Holmes — Person · Main subject (comedian) / primary interviewee · 1 mention · first at
    He is the stand-up comic whose experience before and after Assad frames the story: self-censorship under dictatorship, new freedoms, and new forms of pressure under the post-Assad authorities.
  • Maliki Mardinali — Person · Main subject (comedian/organizer) / tour manager · 1 mention · first at
    He co-founded the troupe with Sharief and functions as the operational lead—permits, negotiations, and risk management—making him central to the conflict with local authorities over what comedy is allowed.
  • Aean Oana — Person · Reporter / narrator (embedded on tour) · 4 mentions · first at
    He is the journalist who travels with the comedians, narrates the episode’s acts, and documents the evolving boundaries of speech in post-Assad Syria.
  • Ahmmed al-Shar — Person · Referenced political figure (post-Assad leader) · 1 mention · first at
    Presented as the interim president figurehead of the new order; his stated promises and the government’s posture toward criticism set the new (uncertain) rules for speech.
    Surprised everybody again by not immediately becoming another repressive regime. HDS leader Ahmmed al-Shar says he's acting as interim president and has promised to hold…
  • Asma al-Assad — Person · Referenced political figure (Assad family member) · 1 mention · first at
    She is referenced as the subject of a newly-possible joke (about her bra and breast cancer), illustrating how taboos have shifted since the regime fell.

Books & papers

  • Be a Great Standup — Book · Referenced work · 1 mention · first at
    A book Sharief used to write standup material while in prison.
  • Harry Potter — Book · Referenced work · 1 mention · first at
    Mentioned as part of the decor in Sharief's room, taken from the Assad palace.
    Malaki points to them. A Harry Potter poster and a painting made by a small child. That's for from Karim Assad room, sons of Bashar.

Companies & orgs

  • Styia — Company · Business focus · 1 mention · first at
    The comedy group at the center of the episode, planning a nationwide tour in Syria.
  • Hayet Tier Al-Sam — Company · Case study · 1 mention · first at
    An Islamist group that led the rebels to overthrow the Assad regime.

Places & events

  • Aleppo — Place · Setting · 5 mentions · first at
    A city in Syria mentioned as a dangerous stop on the comedians' tour.

Media & podcasts

  • American Life — Media · Host · 4 mentions · first at
    The podcast hosting the episode, providing the narrative framework.
    From WBZ Chicago, this is American Life.

Full transcript with timestamps

A quick warning, there are curse words that are unbeeded in today's episode of the show. If you prefer a beeped version, you can find that at our website thisameanlife.org. Sharief Holmes is a stand-up comic in a place. It's not really known for its comedy scene, Damascus, Syria. As maybe you've heard, the place was run by a dictator for a long time, Bashar al-Assad. Back then, there were a lot of jokes that Sharif was not able to tell on stage. Definitely nothing about Assad or Assad's family. Nothing about politics at all. Those kind of jokes could get you killed or disappeared into one of Assad's infamous prisons. So during those years, Sharie kept jokes like that in a folder on his computer labeled Lebanon because he pretty much only felt safe telling them when he would take trips abroad.

There is one joke. I love this joke. I want to bring it back. But there is one joke I used to say uh when I go to Lebanon like listen we have a lot of problem but you don't have a president and our problem is that we have one so maybe if you take him and you can rent him for a bit and if you like him you can keep him you know you cannot say anything like this man that joke if I say it over here we will we will get killed there is no joke with them

Bashar al-Assad's family ruled Syria for 53 years. The last 13 of which were a brutal civil war. Over 300,000 Syrian civilians died. Then a year ago, to everybody's surprise, a bunch of rebel groups overthrew the regime in just 12 days. Assad, his wife Asma, and their family flew to Russia. The rebels were led by an Islamist group called Hayet Tier Al-Sam, HTS for short. And then the new people in power surprised everybody again by not immediately becoming another repressive regime. HDS leader Ahmmed al-Shar says he's acting as interim president and has promised to hold elections in the next few years. And Syrians have been experiencing a freedom that they have not experienced before. I had dinner a couple weeks ago with somebody who was just there and they were talking about how kind of inspiring it is to be there right now. She met lots of people who are moving back, ready and excited to

rebuild their country. But at the same time, parts of Syria are still violent. There was fighting this month in and around Aleppo. Over 150,000 people were displaced. In July, Sharif had to cancel a show in a city called Sueda because of a massacre there. 800 people were killed. And then in October, in the middle of this chaos and hope, Sharie and the other comedians in his comedy group, the group is called Styia, decided to go on tour. They planned 16 cities in 21 days all over Syria in conservative regions in liberal areas like Damascus, areas under Kurdish control, and areas that were once under ISIS control. And they really weren't sure how this was going to go. Nobody had ever done this.

And this is the tricky part. Under the dictator, it was clear what they could not say on stage. But now there seemed to be no rule book at all. If anything, the new government was saying, "Go ahead, you can make jokes about us. We're different from the old regime." But the didn't know if they could trust that. And then beyond that, there are lots of just very conservative, very religious people around Syria. Some of them are figures of authority in towns and provinces. The comedians wondered how they would react to things they heard on stage. They worried about random hotheads hearing about them and things they said deciding to show up with a gun. Even before they left, they got death threats in their DMs. Stuff like, "If you ever talk about about the revolution, we're going to come kill you one by one and blah blah blah blah."

These messages freaked Sharief out. But he got where they were coming from. The country's been through 13 years of war. He and most of the other comedians are from Damascus, city that saw the least of the fighting because it was controlled by the regime. By Syrian standards, they're the soft liberals. I understand because some people, man, they see what we do as a luxury. My house was was I was destroyed and my brother was dead. My mother was dead. And you here in Damascus were we're having fun. You didn't have anything wrong. and you going to make people laugh. This is like luxury, you know.

So, they cannot take the joke. And I understand they have the right to be sad. Any comedy show in Syria right now for everybody, comedians, the audience, they're all figuring out what's okay to say out loud. Aean Oana, a reporter based in Damascus, heard about all this. And he also was very curious to see what the comedians could get away with and whether they would even get all the way through the tour. He hung out with them on tour for two weeks on long van rides across Syria, backstage at their shows. Lots of stuff ended up happening. Stuff I think it's safe to say they did not see coming.

From WBZ Chicago, this is American Life. I'm Glass. We hit the road with these comedians today. And uh with that introduction, here's Aean with act one and actual calling. Too soon. I meet up with the comedians in Sophita, a city about 3 hours drive north of Damascus. They're in a shared apartment that doubles as a green room. The venue owner let them all crash for free. There are several mattresses to a room, suitcases under the beds, and the comics are walking in and out of rooms, getting ready, and telling jokes to warm up.

Hello. Hi, Malik. I need to get naked. No, no, no. This is Maliki is Maliki Mardinali, one of the founders of the group along with Sharief.

You can ask him anything while he's dressing. Okay, Maliki, while you're dressing, I'm going to ask you the same question I just asked Sharief.

Is there a joke you're thinking of saying tonight that you're not sure if you want to say it that might be a bit dangerous?

Actually, there was a few, but uh few minutes ago, we were uh speaking about it. uh here the audience is new to this for uh this kind of art you know so I don't want any joke to be uncomfortable for them you know so I'm going safe side this time uh I feel if I say something on the government it would be a little bit dangerous they will not feel comfortable you know something like this for the sensitivity of this place not because We don't we can't say it, you know, but uh here I don't know how they will react to it.

And what is the joke you're not sure about telling? Uh maybe something about uh how the Ministry of Defense uh dress they don't wear shoes. They only wear the flipflops, you know. That's how they fight. I feel something like this. It's a lot dangerous to see someone feats in in a war. You know,

this is actually a joke about the current government that there are such a rag tag army that they came to power in flip-flops.

Comedy and poetry are probably the hardest things to translate from any language.

I swear to God in Arabic, it's very funny. Just anyone is hearing us right now, it is funny in Arabic. You should learn Arabic and come and watch the show.

Maliki plays it safe that night in Safita. He skips the flip-flop joke. Stiria is a small crew, around 20 comics. Two of them are women. Some still keep their day jobs. There's a dentist, a university lecturer, an engineer, students. They are mostly in their 20s and 30s. The group's name is a combination of Syria plus hysteria because that's what it felt like to laugh in Syria when the group got together 3 years ago. A manic release. Sharief and Malaki do this full-time. Sharief is the group's spiritual leader, the one who used to have a folder labeled Lebanon. He's got a laid-back stoner vibe, covered in tattoos, light beard, 33 years old. Maliki is the one running the tour. He's 29 years old with dark hair and a cheeky grin. He's the Paul McCartney to Sharief John Lennon, more tightly wound. He's the fixer, lining up venues, negotiating with government officials, driving the van, keeping track of permits, schedules, and

constantly updating the list of things that could go wrong. He worries out loud, cracks jokes as he does it. A kind of nervous humor that makes it clear he's holding the whole operation together.

I feel that he actually thinks they're going to be fine on this tour. I don't think something bad will happen to us because nobody cares about it. Let's state the obvious. Nobody cares about who the [ __ ] we are. I'm not like a superstar. I'm not George Clooney on the tour. Me, that's nobody cares about us. Nothing bad will happen to us. A few people telling some jokes, let them. But there are two stops on the tour he's worried about.

I'm most scared of is Aleppo and Hama. Aleppo and Hama. Those two cities are very dangerous. Very dangerous. O man. So we have to be careful dealing with I don't know the uh mind. I don't know what it's the term minefield.

Minefield. Yes. Yes. Yes. So it's a minefield in Hammer is a conservative city, stop seven on the tour. Aleppo is stop nine, a city divided by different factions. Before they could go on the tour, Malakei had to sign what he translates as an obligation with the Ministry of Tourism, a pledge to avoid certain jokes. Unlike during the old Assad regime, they're allowed to make fun of the current leaders. The pledge is a promise not to use hate speech and to avoid jokes that could rile people up and cause civil unrest like jokes about religion. It's a written commitment tied to the permit. If they breach it, the Ministry of Tourism can cancel the show or penalize the group.

The first four shows go pretty smoothly, playing in mostly liberal towns where they didn't expect problems. One gets oversold because the app they use to sell tickets malfunctions, which is a huge pain in the ass, but mostly it's sold out rooms. So far so good. Stop five on the tour, Latakia. A sunny port city with a beachfront and blue Mediterranean waters. Fish restaurants and clubs line the shore. It's been called the Miami of Syria, and it would be except for what happened here last March when sectarian violence killed around 1,500 people. That's the stage the comedians are walking into tonight.

Fun, but tense. Okay, it's Wednesday, the 15th of October. We're in Latakia. We're just arriving at the venue to see Sharif Malaki and the guys as they set up. It's a beautiful venue overlooking the sea.

My friend, hello. Welcome. Welcome. Hi. Hi. How are you? Good. What's happening?

Uh, we're preparing for the show. Sharief is unloading equipment and making sure everything is in place, working. Maliki is putting up posters and banners at the entrance.

I told you we're the logistic. We're the reservation. We are the comedian. We are the management. We are the president of Syria.

We are Syria. The same. We are Syria. So, we're preparing the show and we just learned we might have we cannot do our show in Hammer.

Hammer, one of the cities Maliki was worried about. Man, this is insane. This is insane. This is crazy. Oh,

you're pissed off. Yeah. Yeah. Very, very, man. Very angry about it. They had gotten a call from their fixer and Hammer, the guy setting up their show there. He said he had gone to pay the fees for the show but was told the local government and Hammer wasn't going to allow it

because we got a report that we are this is a new one prepared fresh it's a fresh we are supporting the gay rights in in uh in in Syria or in Ham

why we don't know like the one who preparing the venue in uh in Hama they sent him to the

they are assuming we we didn't say anything about this kind topic ever gone like uh like me talk to the guy in the government tell him bro like this is really offensive like if you tell me I'm threatening the the people the religion anything I'm talking against politics I understand but gay rights why like when you see

so we don't know why don't the stereo comedians can talk about whatever they want in their sets their only rule is no hate speech

but still nobody campaigns for any rights of any kind in their shows. Listen imagine like you cannot think about supporting any rights like like you see gay right vegetarian right any right so so the idea we don't know much they care about hama because it's symbolic a full house in a town with a conservative reputation a real test of what they can or can't say in the new Syria they weren't even going to play hammer when they planned the tour conservative too many ways it could go wrong. This is the place where in 1982 Hafes al-Assad, Bashar's father, crushed the Muslim Brotherhood uprising.

Thousands were killed. Many disappeared. People there still carry that history. It shapes what you can say in a room. But then a fan of the group DM Sharief, begging him to come. We like you here. We want you here. We want to change the conservative stereotype of our city. So Sharief said, "Okay, [ __ ] it. Let's do Hammer." They figured if they could play Hammer, it could open the doors to other conservative cities, too. And they sold out the Hammer Show. 230 tickets. It's Wednesday. The Hammer Show is supposed to happen Monday. So Maliki calls the guy in charge of culture in Hammer. A local bureaucrat he calls the shake to convince the shake to not cancel the show.

I am beyond worried right now. Uh my mind in that night they still have a show to do.

It's a simple format. Six comedians, 7 minutes each. The room is full, maybe two, 300 people. Maliki opens the show. He asks the audience not to take videos or photos or post on social media because they just got in trouble with the government for promoting homosexuality.

Maliki tells a version of the flip-flop joke. How security forces have been fighting for 14 years but keep their toes out. It gets a big laugh. Then he hands the mic over to Sharif. Shariff tells a joke that definitely would have gotten him into trouble under the Assad regime. It shows you how much things have changed in Syria this last year. It's about Asal Assad, the dictator's wife, who had breast cancer. Technically, it's about her bra. Here's the setup. December 8th, 2024. The Assads flee for Russia. Syrians go to the abandoned presidential palace to loot it, taking little trophies, souvenirs.

So in that joke I say people went to Bashar Assad to steal some watches, some expensive painting. Me I go what I get Assad bra and I have it one piece.

He holds up half of a bra. the other half is missing because she got one breast taken because she had cancer and people start to laugh and feel shy and I say don't feel sorry about her she have cancer feel sorry for the cancer you have a smile I said people like I love the joke biggest laugh of the night afterwards I talked to a few members of the audience How was the show tonight?

Tremendous. Extraordinary. I haven't witnessed anything the same in my life. It was amazing. It was unbelievable. It's a um you no one expected this. They say things that um that you cannot say especially in Latakia. They're amazing.

One guy said he was depressed before the show. But after five minutes in the show, I felt myself like flying in the night sky.

The only criticism I heard was that they were not political enough. I would like to hear more about politics because uh the more you talk about the about politics, the more you are free. I don't think that in the in the coming years they will be able to mention the same jobs. I don't believe that they are going to be free like this. I feel that Syria now is going to be uh like the Assad period.

Some Syrians have told me that they feel as though they're speaking on borrowed time. They're happy the old regime is gone, but are unsure about the future. Syrians are setting precedents for what can be said, post by post, room by room. But maybe it's a bubble. They can joke for now, but there's real trepidation about what comes next. By the end of the night, the comedians haven't heard back from the shake. The fate of the Hammer show is still on the line.

Eman Okana coming up, the comedians head into Hama Province, the Shakes Province, and the Shake brings all the boys to the yard. Figuratively, I mean. Stay with us. Just American Life. If you just tuned in, reporter Aean Oana hit the road with a group of Syrian comedians on their first nationwide tour since the Assad regime fell a year ago. We have arrived at act two, the drama in Hama. Here's Aemon. The comedians have a two-day break after Latakia, so they go back to Damascus to recuperate. They still don't know what's going to happen with their show and Hammer. I meet up with them at Sharief's place in Damascus, his family's house. It's big in a nice leafy neighborhood.

How you feeling? I need massage. Sharif's parents are drinking tea in the living room with his aunt and uncle.

This is my place. This is my room. This is my family. My uncle, his wife. We step into Sharif's bedroom, the operating base for Syria. Maliki, Sharief, and Omar, another founding comedian, have all kicked off their shoes and are drinking coffee and discussing what's to come. They are waiting for the shake to call with an update on Hammer. Malaki's phone stays face up on the table. Psychedelic Stoner posters are taped to the wall. A desktop computer obscures the window. A few childish pictures sit on the mantle. Malaki points to them. A Harry Potter poster and a painting made by a small child. That's for from Karim Assad room, sons of Bashar.

Oh wow. So this is taken from the palace. Yes. And I have few stuff also from his house. Uh what we get also milky we I get from his house. I took shitty stuff and not something with it value to me more than it value in the real world you know because that day was magnificent man. Yeah. Yeah. I say this in my standup. I said I really hope we don't have to feel this feeling again of us getting liberated because in order to feel it again another dictator will have to come. So in that day I felt totally free. It was total chaos man. Like I spend from 6:00 until 6:00 at the evening I was outside in the road with my friend celebrating.

We went to Alad home. You see I have his bra, his painting and stuff. We went to the parliament to the ministry of defense. His wife uh

So that's really his wife's bra. You're not kidding. Yeah, I'm not kidding. I brought shitty stuff for me. I has and the half of the bra. I give it to my girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend because

I thought you were joking. No, no, no. It's it's a it's a it's a it's a real [ __ ] I I turned it into a joke.

Let me show you. Let me show you the book of my standup comedy. When I was inside, it's found.

When Sharif says he was inside, he means prison. Sharif was jailed in Dubai for a little more than 3 years from 2018 to 2021. He hands me a paperback book with a worn cover.

So this was with me in the inside. See what I write. Be a great standup is the name of the book.

Oh wow. It's covered in handwritten notes. This is your notes. This is my notes. This is me writing standup in the inside. So, you're inside your cell just reading about comedy and writing in this book.

Yeah. Yeah. I can I can show you I can show you a book where I writeed what I want to do when I was I'm going to go out.

So, this is a notepad you had in prison. Yeah. Yeah. And you can see in English I say new laptop writing and standup comedy. And uh I read here some gem never never speak the plan. What's never never speak the plan.

I used to talk a lot, man. This is what got me into [ __ ] The [ __ ] is a narcotics charge. Sharief was dealing drugs in Dubai and got caught by the authorities.

I got greedy and I got caught by a by a kamine by an ambush and they gave me marked money and it was all a play and all a game. I was I was the one who burned. According to court documents, Sharief sold drugs to an undercover cop. A snitch had tipped off the police. He was arrested and given a life sentence, which in the UAE is a common penalty for drug offenses, no matter how small. He says he got out because his father wrote a mercy petition, a letter to the prosecutor begging to let him go.

My name was 71. It was 70 people who meant to go out and they added my name after 3 years and 3 months and uh

thank God. And then you came out and you were like I know what I want to do. I'm going to be a comedian.

Actually the first year I was an animal. What do you mean? You know you're basic. I want to eat. I want to have sex. I want to hear some music. It was taken from me. And after 9 months, I was going into them the same cycle that get me into jail.

A friend called him out for how he was acting. Sharief said enough and broke the cycle by focusing on saving money for his comedy dream, taking any job he could.

And when that happened, uh, everything started to happen. Like someone asked me to do standup comedy between parties and stuff and I was like, I want to do this. And I thought if is it possible in all Syria in all the darker humor and [ __ ] we have I am the only one in Syria or Damascus that want to do standup comedy. Just let me put the news out and see who is are interested like I needed a team to so I can start so we can do something.

That's how he met Malakei. They both grew up in Damascus. Sharif is Muslim. Maliki is Christian. They had mutual friends but didn't know each other. Maliki was working in a bank at the time, but they both dreamt of being stand-up comedians. Here's Sheree. Someone sent me his Facebook and I went to research his Facebook. He had some bad content on Q media. Then I find him start to do standup comedy. He tried in 2020 alone.

How do you start to do standup comedy on your own? I don't know. I don't know. You just got up in the bar and

actually actually this is a very good one. I don't know if I told the guys of it. Uh Kamal, my friend, we were uh having a drink in Mad Monkey Pop. So, we were talking and I'm I don't know. I'm just saying stories and something like this. He started to laugh laugh very hard. So he called Bisan, the owner of the place, and told her that uh I'm should start uh doing standup comedy at her venues. She refused it, of course, I'm I'm not.

But then a week or so later, the owner of the bar changed her mind. Maliki's friend called and told him

and that was just because you're like a funny guy and people for you. That's it. I don't know [ __ ] about standup at that time. Like I'm coming from NOS's and bank background, you know. So you you worked in a bank but you told jokes to your friends and your friends were like

yes yes most most of uh my jokes come from that I'm a good roster at I was at the bank so

and how did it go at Mad Monkey your first gig [ __ ] [ __ ] [ __ ] man pure [ __ ] it's the purest [ __ ] you will ever seen in your life

did people laugh the people were sick not laugh they told son come on turn on the music on man

maki had decided to quit the bank, tired of counting other people's money. And out of the blue, Sharief called him to invite him to a stand-up workshop he was hosting.

At the same day, man, at the same day, 2 uh p.m. I signed that paper 4:00 p.m. Sharif called me

at the same day. And I remember when I called, he say I cannot I cannot come at this time.

This is the shake is calling Malakina. Hello. Hello. Maliki answers the phone. Shariff paces the room, smoking and listening carefully. The call lasts about 15 minutes. God.

So what just happened Maliki? Oh my god man. This is insane. This is insane. 15 minutes on the phone just to talk just to say that uh you are not allowed to do your standup in Hama. Okay after after this he will reconsider the the things.

What the shik said in the call was that he didn't know who canled the show but he understood why someone would cancel it. He'd actually seen their set in Muhad a few months back and he thought some of the content was inappropriate and certainly it would be for Hammer but not because of anything to do with LGBTQ material.

So what were the kind of things he was saying to you? Man, this is insane. He he told me that h you can't say your material in Hama because it it's offensive to the family values because we are talking about our parents. So he felt that oh they are breaking the bonds between the families. They are affecting the people that who watch this kind of shows that we are we are a threat that that's how we we are a threat to the family you know we are a threat to the family value. This is this is much more insane than than the LGBTQ support thing man. This is this is really new man. This is really new. All of us have jokes on our parents, man. Everybody, this is insane. It's my dad, man. It's my dad. If if I can't speak on my dad, what should I speak of for what I should I speak? This is my family. This is my my culture. This is we are doing standup comedy for the sheh, not for the people,

you know. This is how things are now going. The first three months we had freedom.

Yeah. What was that like? Amazing. It's like coming from dark to the light. Then we are slowly uh closing the window now. Slowly closing the door. Slowly closing the curtains. This is this is bad. This is bad.

Like if if it's better if I never had it. Yes. Wow. You know. Wow. Oh [ __ ] Here we go again, you know. Oh [ __ ] Here we go. Another Assad regime. On the call, Maliki told the Shake they wanted to perform in Hammer to show that Hammer isn't just some strict and conservative city where nothing happens. The Shake said he'd look into it and get back to them with a final answer soon.

So, he's going to call back in a few hours with his decision. I think I think he will call the brothers.

The brothers is Malik's sardonic way of referring to the Islamist officials now running things.

They will call the Brotherhood. uh he will call them and uh will have their advice.

The next day we hit the road again, piling into a bright yellow van with stickers lining the side saying in the font of Grand Theft Auto. Malakei is driving. Sharief sits behind him. There's so much equipment in the back that Malaki can't see out the rear window. It's about 3 hours to Salamir, stop six on the tour, depending on checkpoints. What's the latest with the sh

sent me a screenshot that he is pushing also in Mard to stop you? Yes. Muhard is the show tomorrow night. The shake is now saying that show might be cancelled as well.

I think a few hours I'm going to make some phone calls to understand what the hell is going on. And what's your strategy with the sheh? How are you going to convince him or control him or influence him?

He's going to turn to Islam. You're going to convert to Islam. I hope I don't have to because if the sheh they didn't kill me, my parents will. So I'm dead either here or there. I told them I told him we will not stop. So if they want to stop, let them stop us. If it's going to go to jail, please take me to jailb. I miss it.

And with all this drama, do you want to perform in Hammer? Yes. Our show is sold out in Hammer, man. There is 200 people right now. The only entertainment they have here is us so far beside killing each others, you know. So we are a must, not an eat.

A few minutes later, still on the road to Salamir, Maliki gets a text. The sheh just texted me that uh not going to be a show in Hama. This is final decision. So, what are you going to do?

We're going to tell the people in Hama to come uh to our show in Are you going to tell them why?

Uh, yes, of course I'm going to tell them why. For them, this isn't over. They could let it go, but Maliki won't. They decide to test the limits another way, make it public, and see who's stronger right now, the government or the people. They want to use public opinion to force them to reinstate the show. The stereo comedians are all pretty young. They think in Tik Tok and Instagram. They believe a big enough online following will give them protection from government officials trying to silence them. They have hundreds of thousands of followers on Instagram.

Syria's revolutionaries also use social media to rise to power. But now that they run things, they fear it. fear posts that inflame sectarian tempers. Fear looking weak. At the same time, they don't want to look like the old regime, repressive and censoring in public. So, they pressure quietly in private and the comedians answer loudly online. Maliki and Sharief go on the offensive. They post that the Hammer show is cancelled and tell Hammer fans to come to Mahade instead. They'll add seats. They'll arrange buses. They're trying to turn the followers into force. It's a respectful post, not calling anyone out, but they figure their fans will understand why it was cancelled, get pissed off, and put pressure on the government. But then one of the other comedians, Abu Aiz, goes rogue on his personal Instagram account.

So Aziz, you know him, Aziz is much crazy. He's not diplomatic, you know. He is not diplomatic. He did something really funny. very very stupid and very very you know

on Instagram. Abraiz goes off. He rants about the secretariat for political affairs in Hammer. Says they accuse the troop of LGBTQ content and of being a threat to family values. He blames them for cancelling Hammer. We're back to how we were before, he says, which sounds pretty mild, but he's comparing the new government to the old regime, which is dangerous.

Abu Aiz has nearly 300,000 followers. Him posting online left some in the group nervous, but excited Malik and Sharif. The comments start right away, angry at the government. Word gets back. Someone from political affairs calls Abu Aiz. Political affairs also contacts the shake. The shake calls Maliki. Maliki doesn't pick up. So the shake follows with the text.

I didn't answer the same. I will let him. We have canceled this show. But then when uh uh

in an hour answer I think in an hour answer him. I think I will tell I will now leave him in half an hour.

Let things let things boil up, you know. So I leave him now. I think an hour later or maybe in the evening they will tell us do your show in Ham.

Some members of the group are worried by the strategy wishing they had been consulted first. But almost as quickly as they stir up the online [ __ ] storm, Sharief gets a text from the hammer venue owner. No matter what, he won't let them use the venue. It's not worth it to him. He's scared of a visit from the authorities, a fine, a lost license, a knock at the door, or worse, an attack. Maliki and Sharief have officially lost the battle for hammer. They're still trying to direct people to come to the Mahade show instead, but now that might be cancelled as well. They play Salamir that night.

Wow. It goes great. Standing ovation. Then after the show, a call from the Ministry of Media. This guy is furious about Abu Aiz's post and tries to stop the show they've just finished.

Are you worried they're going to stop your other shows? Uh now uh tomorrow it's going to be Mhard. No, they are not going to come to Mahard. Maybe they will do some phone calls and that's it. It's now our move on the chessboard. It's now our move. We have the media. We have the people. They have weapons. Yes.

So Abuiz is very powerful chess piece. No, he is very we call it that the one who like the tank you know this is the first who come into the battle and then people come like snipers and military and everything war. Yeah. In Syria everything is a war. Even the art is a war.

Maliki isn't worried about the show in Mahard. He tells me it's a Christian town, so the shake has no power there. Aean Oana coming up. Muarta, she wrote the comedy show moves on to Moarta. That's in a minute from Chicago Public Radio when our program continues. This is American Life, Myra Glass. Today's show, a Christian and a Muslim walk into a bar. We pick up with a reporter Aean Oana and the comedians of Stereia on their tour of the country for act three and a calling. Is this thing on? It's morning. We're back in the van heading from Salamir to Maharde, a show they hope will still happen and where a busload of fans from Hammer will join them.

We pass a car with a rocket launcher on the roof. This is a rocket launcher on a on a on a HV.

Monuments of Syria's bloody war still dot the roads. We see bombed out buildings and burnt out cars on the way. We have a system for checkpoints. Maliki flashes a big smile and I hide my recording equipment under a coat.

Checkpoint for Okay, checkpoint. I need to take my headphones off. Maliki is flying high this morning. We're leaving the more conservative Sunni Muslim areas and heading to a Christian town. Christians are a minority in Syria, about 10% before the war. And Maliki is Christian. He's relaxed in shorts, grinning as he drives.

This is Mahar. Welcome to the Christian people. [ __ ] you. Hallelujah. Now we are safe. Now we are safe from HTS and all the government. This is a Christian country here. This is a Christian land. No Muslim is allowed to go here. can see it again.

I am an Are you Christian? I am. Yes. Welcome home. You get into town, go into a cafe.

Maliki. Yeah. Have you heard from anyone who's from Hammer who's taking the bus tonight?

I don't know, but I think there's uh 40 50 people something like this. I feel that uh when the evening come it will be 60 or I think 60 70 something like this. I hope uh it's going to be good. This is where we drink a lot. This is the place.

They are very very very generous. Very generous here because they are Christian.

Everyone is happy, smiling. They order pizza. I go back to I love this song. But an hour later, the mood changes. Maliki looks distressed. He has changed back into jeans as conservative Syrians frown upon men wearing shorts.

We get back into the car with the venue owner for the show tonight. Okay, Maliki, tell me exactly what's happening.

Ah, a lot happening. A lot. Let me think about it first. Then I will talk to you just to

The venue owner has gotten a call from the local government in Mahade asking him to come in for a meeting. We drive to the local municipal building. I walk with Malaki but get stopped at the stairwell while Maliki and the venue owner go into an office. A few minutes later, Malaki comes back and says I can come in. Please give it to the boys outside.

Give what? The recording? Yes, the recording and the headset. Okay, sure. I can and your bag also.

Okay. They take my bag, the recorder, everyone's phones. There are two government men inside the office. Beards, shaved mustaches, military outfits. They look straight out of central casting, but they're polite. One asks if we want coffee. Another then brings glass cups of Nes Cafe 3 in1, a sugary instant coffee ubiquitous across the Middle East. My translator waits downstairs, so I don't follow everything, but one of the government guys says he recognizes me. I'd covered the Syrian war and we had been in the same towns in Idlib province. Maliki later jokes that 10 years ago they may have kidnapped me. It's a different country to report in now.

I watch the room. The older one sits behind a desk. does most of the talking. Eventually, another brings in a piece of paper and beckons the venue owner to come to him. The owner is nervous and doesn't hesitate to sign it. Maliki explained to me what was going on afterwards.

They were very angry. Um, so they told us that uh we can't do our show in Mhard because there is no permission from Hama political affairs. So now we are uh making some phone calls to have that permission. I hope uh I hope to have it.

Maliki had miscalculated. He figured that because Mahade is a Christian town, the shake and the local Hammer government wouldn't have reach here. But instead, the local politicians in Mahade are telling them if they want to do tonight's show in Mahade, they need to get permission from the shake and the other bureaucrats in Hammer, the ones they started a battle with yesterday, the ones now threatening a liel case.

What was it they made the owner sign? uh obligation saying he promises that he promises that he won't uh let us do the show without a written permission from their office.

Has this ever happened before to you? No. No. When you arrived in Mahar, you were like, "We're free now. No one can stop us." So, how do you feel now?

[ __ ] [ __ ] [ __ ] They have uh more power than I thought here. This is dangerous to yesterday. They were very upset with us doing the show in Salami. So now they are they will prevent us from doing the show here.

I don't know what things would happen the next few hours. Their only path tonight is persistence. If they can get permission from the hammer officials Abu Aiz just insulted, they can still go on in Mahade. It's 3:15 p.m. The show is at 7:00. It's sold out. Buses of fans are supposed to come from Hammer. We get in the car, me, Malaki, and the venue owner, and head towards Hammer to try to talk to the politicians and see if there's any way to save tonight's show in Moad. 10 minutes out, the venue owner answers his phone. I can't tell what the call is about, but he goes quiet, then asks us to turn back.

We head back to Moad to the same cafe. Maliki smokes a cigarette on the street outside defeated. Why did we turn back from Hammer?

Because they started to hurt him now. They start to hit him. I'm sorry, man. I have to stop this because I'm very tired now.

Maliki later told me that the venue owner got a call from his dad. The government is also putting pressure on him. real enough pressure that he got scared and didn't want to cause more trouble by heading to Hammer. To make matters worse, on the way back, Maliki also gets a call. First, they've been told they needed permission from the political affairs office in Hammer to run the Mahade show. Now, the bar moves even farther away from them. Officials are now saying they need three permissions from political affairs and also from the ministries of tourism and culture. And the guy running the local office of the Ministry of Culture is the shake.

All because of what? What have you guys said or done? This is because of jokes.

Yes. This is because of jokes. I I can't think of a place [ __ ] than here. No. I hate this country. I swear to God, I hate it from the bottom of my heart. No. This is a message that you don't play with us. They think you're troublemakers.

Yes. Yes. For them. This is insane. This is insane. I'm tired now mentally and physically tired. I'm using all my connections. And when I do when I put nine on the table, they put 10. I put an uh guy, they put a queen. I put the king, they put an ace. So, it's it's always [ __ ] We're going to wait one more hour and then we will know what to do. We need an hour, I think. Man, I don't know what to do. I don't want to be a fight. I want to be an agreement.

Well, you want to be a comedian and you can't do that. This is the last thing I think of right now. Actually, I swear to God, this is the last thing I think of.

Maliki hasn't eaten since yesterday. He's running on coffee and cigarettes. He's getting impatient with my questions. He and the other comedians start talking in Arabic around a crowded table. The conversation is heated. I find Sharif outside the cafe emotional. Okay, man. I can see you have tears in your eyes. You're upset.

Well, bro, I feel sad. You know why? I'm sad because the people who got influenced now they're they're using Bashar ways to and Bashar law to to stop us from making people have some fun.

Yeah. How is freedom of expression working out for you in Syria now? It's not working like at all like it's not working and uh and the thing are working as not freedom are who have the bigger balls.

How are the other guys taking the news? Some of them are scared. Some of them imagine he's scared he's a doctor in the university. his skill that might reach him in a way that they will let him go from the university. Other want to make money, other want to make fame, other want to make the project continue. It's their own right to to feel and do whatever they want. But for me, I push by myself, you know. So, let's see.

But soon after this conversation, they call it. Maliki can't secure the free permissions in time, so they're forced to cancel just three hours before showtime. They post on Styia's Instagram that the show's off due to unforeseen circumstances, and tell people they'll refund tickets. Now, they're worried the government is also going to cancel their show in Aleppo, which is 2 days away.

I find them hours later in Sharief's hotel room. One of the other comedians is giving Sheree a massage.

So, I see you guys are promoting LGBTQ. That night, instead of doing their show, they get drunk and dance until 3:00 in the morning. The next day, the politicians in Hammer want Abu Aiz to bend the knee, apologize. Maliki says he won't make Abu Aiz do that alone. We get in a car to Hammer to meet Abu Aiz, who's already driven up from Damascus. Malaki is anxious and frustrated.

I didn't sleep well, actually. So, what what are you hoping you're going to see these guys and what

to end this madness, man? To end this madness. I think we've been in this case 3 days now.

Yeah. The [ __ ] is this, man? 3 days. 3 days for a [ __ ] comedy show. They are wrong. Okay. They are the political affair. They are. But um we didn't play well. When we play, we give them our neck.

We get to the political affairs office and inside a large drab concrete government building. At the door, the security guard says they're expecting us and Maliki tightens.

Up a dim stairwell to a large office, three suited officials sit in a row like judges facing out. One of them is the infamous shake. We're shown to chairs by their side. Abu Aiz is already there. Maliki tells me to put my recorder outside again.

Uh, please, we're going to take this outside. Then we're going to talk. All right.

The meeting begins. It's all in Arabic, but my translator is there and takes notes. The government officials are stern and condescending. Their age and authority looms over Abu Aiz and Maliki. They have the room. The men from political affairs tell the comedians they were insulted by Abu Aiz's post that it's unacceptable to compare them to the Assad regime. They ask Abu Aiz how many people saw his post. He says 47,000 and apologizes. Says what he did was wrong. The officials say that in addition to the post being inappropriate, it wasn't true. They never cancelled the show.

Maliki pushes back. That's what his fixer was told when he had gone to pay the fees for the show. Whatever the truth of that, the three officials do have a lot to say about the content of the shows. One of them says that he went to one of their shows a few months back, that he sat in the front row of his son. He says, "I regretted bringing him, but what calmed me was that he fell asleep during the show. From the start, all your jokes were about religion, sex, and sensitive topics that threaten civil peace." They remind the comedians that under Assad, they could joke about anything but politics. Now, they can joke as much as they want about politics or the government, but they can't joke about topics that could disturb the civil peace. They point to a little dance Abu Aiz does at the start of his set. They say it's sexual. They say society's morals have deteriorated.

Abu Aiz apologizes a second time. He tries to break the tension with a joke. He says, "There are three things I love. Ahmed al-Shara, Bashar al-Assad, and sport, but the truth is I only like two of them. You can choose whichever you like." It's a joke because Abu Aiz is overweight, not a big athlete, and it's impossible to both love Shara and Assad. Silence. No smiles, no laughs. It's awkward. The message is clear. This is not a joke. The meeting wraps up after an hour. Afterwards, I ask Abu Aiz about it.

Do you regret the post now? Uh yes, from my I regret my reaction and putting a story because if I do that and comparing them to the old regime, if I do that uh with the old regime, they will I will be killed or forcibly disappeared. Uh but the the new government have at least sat with me uh discussed the issue with me and they let me leave. It says a lot about where Syria is now. Not the old terror, not real freedom either. The state will absolve you if you apologize rather than make you disappear into the prison system. You can post, you can film, you can even argue in a room like that, but you have to bow down to authority, which after 50 years of dictatorship, Syrians know how to do. It seems to me like in Syria today, everyone has tasted freedom for the first time and they're not sure what to do with it. Even the government don't even know what to do with freedom.

Yes, of course you have said it, you a lot. We we are learning and they are learning.

I spoke to the shake afterwards. He reiterated that he didn't cancel the show. He said his remitt is cultural centers only and the comedians are banned from the cultural centers in Hammer, but anything in a private venue, he said, is outside his authority. He never told anyone to stop anything.

He is lying, man. I told Maliki about the conversation. He said it was a misunderstanding. He

No, that what they say after when uh feel the heat, you know. I'm sorry. It's a mis misunderstanding. [ __ ] you. on [ __ ] your misunderstanding. Understand well because you are in a position you have to understand well any misunderstanding can lead to blood. You have to be aware of what kind of business you do.

I also learned the shake is not actually a shake. Do you call all the politicians shake? Not all only the Muslim one.

We tried to figure out who canled the show and hammer and didn't get anywhere either. The next two shows are in Aleppo. And even though Maliki was worried about Aleppo from the start, the shows there are not cancelled. They sell out both shows, a thousand tickets in total. Maliki does the joke about his dad and one about being a Christian in a mosque. Share tells the brake.

See, Malaki was right. They kill in Arabic. Aiman Oana is a reporter in Damascus. We only say goodbye with words. I died 100 times. You go back to her. I go back to I go back to our program was produced today by Dana Chibvis and edited by Fia Benon, David Kenbal with factchecking by Hannie Hassley. The people who put together today's show include Michael Comedy, Suzanne Gabber, Tobin Low, Katherine Rayo, Stone Nelson, Ruthie Patito, Nadia Raymond, Ryan Rury, Francis Swanson, Christopher Sotala, Julie Whitaker, and Diane Woo. Our managing editors Sara Abd Ramen. Our executive editor is Emanuel Barry. Araf Ali Kurs worked with Aean in Syria. Jutah did translations. Our website this americananlife.org. This American life is delivered to public radio stations by PRX, the public radio exchange. Thanks as always to our program's co-founder, Mr. Tory Malatia.

You know, when people walk up to him on the street, before they barely get a word out, he lets them know

I'm not George Clooney. I'm Glass back next week with more stories of this American life.

You go back to life.

Questions about this episode

Who speaks in "A Christian and a Muslim Walk Into a Bar | This American Life | Episode 879"?

Ira Glass (Host), Sharief Holmes (Guest), Maliki Mardinali (Guest), Aean Oana (Guest), Abu Aiz (Guest), Ahmmed al-Shar (Guest).

What is "A Christian and a Muslim Walk Into a Bar | This American Life | Episode 879" about?

The content explores the experiences of Sharief Holmes, a stand-up comedian in Syria, who faced censorship under the brutal regime of Bashar al-Assad, where political jokes could endanger his life. Following the unexpected overthrow of Assad's regime and the emergence of a new leadership promising change, the narrative reflects on the newfound freedoms and uncertainties in post-revolution Syria.

What is mentioned in this This American Life episode?

11 people, works and ideas are mentioned, including Sharief Holmes, Maliki Mardinali, Aean Oana, Styia, Aleppo, Hayet Tier Al-Sam. Each one on this page links to its own page with every episode that mentions it.

How long is "A Christian and a Muslim Walk Into a Bar | This American Life | Episode 879"?

The episode runs 59 min; the transcript is about 9,171 words in 160 timestamped sections.

More from This American Life

About this transcript: the episode's spoken words as captioned on YouTube, split into timestamped sections. Reclip.Me locates every person, work and idea in the text, keeps the time it is first named, and quotes the words around it verbatim. Last updated January 24, 2026.