Shawqi Abdul Amir on why Arabs must use their rich culture

It was once said that language was the greatest non-human innovation, followed by the invention of paper and the printing press. Today, the internet and AI are reshaping the world.

Each of us, whether a poet, singer, creator, politician, or religious figure, contributes under the roof of a smartphone, a device that has absorbed humanity's history and the earth's continents.

Everything symbolic, actual, personal, and immediate has entered under this screen, signifying a cosmic transition. We have moved from the first clay tablet from Sumer, through parchment, stone, papyrus, and paper, to the screen.

This development and profound transition are steering the human adventure, leading us from the Sumerian era to a future we cannot yet fully comprehend. It is this screen that is reinventing humanity, though we do not know where it will take us. As a poet, my primary concern is creating beauty.

Do you then consider yourself capable of creating beauty? 

The ability to create beauty means the ability to create and to face death, because there is no force that faces death other than beauty. 

What are your priorities after taking up your position as director of the Arab World Institute in Paris? 

I lived and worked in France, particularly in Arabic cultural centres, and I also founded a Yemeni cultural centre. For more than 40 years, I've been involved in this field, working with prestigious institutions, including UNESCO. Through this extensive experience, I have reached several conclusions.

We, as Arabs, are often reduced to a negative stereotype, a reduction that all Arabs are subject to, with no exceptions. This stereotype is pervasive, and anyone working in cultural and media environments must consider how to improve this image and counter its implications. This negative stereotype can be boiled down to three elements.

First, we are seen as the children of the past, descendants of Sumer and Pharaoh, out of touch with the modern era. This is often the first impression we encounter abroad.

Second, we are associated with violence, viewed as inhabitants of a region defined by civil wars, extremist movements, and relentless conflicts broadcast on screens in a horrifying, ongoing series. This, too, is a distorted image. We are not the source of these wars and violence; we are their victims.

Third, we are perceived as mere consumers, depicted through contracts, deals, markets, and malls. In the face of this stereotype, we must act. It is the duty of every Arab, within their field of expertise, to confront and counteract this image, or at the very least, to be conscious of it.

As for me, one of my projects at the Institute is to publish a monthly magazine focused on Arab creativity, spanning the entire Arab world and beyond. This publication will be distributed in France and other French-speaking countries, with the possibility of translation into other languages.

It will showcase the richness of Arab storytelling, poetry, cinema, and music. This is my current endeavour, and I hope to see it come to fruition early next year.

We must establish a solid foundation in cultural media. It's not enough to simply translate a novel, publish a poetry collection, or hold an art exhibition. These efforts often reach only a limited elite and are quickly forgotten.

True progress requires consistent, ongoing efforts, building stone upon stone, month after month. This is what I aim to achieve, and it represents a new approach in our cultural dialogue with the West.

The Arab World Institute is one of the symbols of joint Arab cultural action in Europe. How do you evaluate this work, and what needs to be developed? 

The Institute has been operating for 40 years and stands as a rare and unique institution in the world. There is no similar model anywhere in the world's capitals that serves Arabic culture like it.

The very location was a gift from France, and we must acknowledge that this is one of the greatest contributions to culture. It is a stunning ten-story architectural masterpiece opposite Notre Dame, a symbol of French civilisation.

Can any Western or Eastern capital claim to have offered such an edifice to Arabic culture? Furthermore, the majority of the funding comes from France, not from the Arabs! Can you believe it?

Should we accept this unusual situation and remain passive? Of course not. My primary goal will be to rally the Arab presence—rich in thought, creativity, and resources—to rise to the level of this cultural mission, which exists solely to defend our presence in the world.

The institute is the largest platform for such a role. I will dedicate my efforts, in collaboration with President Jack Lang, to invite countries, influential personalities, financiers, and those who are able to contribute.

I will say to them, 'Come, my brothers, let us serve our culture. This place is unparalleled in the world; the Institute is the most important cultural platform for Arabs, and we must invest in it without delay.'

I must also emphasise that the last decade of the Institute's existence has seen a qualitative leap in its presence and role, both within France and globally, thanks to the leadership of President Jack Lang.

He is recognised worldwide as the most significant French Minister of Culture since André Malraux. It is a great fortune for Arabic culture to have a globally respected figure like Lang defending it.

With the rise of the far-right in Europe and the rise of Islamophobia and anti-immigrant hostility, what can culture do in times like these? 

To address the rise of the extreme right and defend the presence of Arabs against this growing tide of racism, we must recognise that our most powerful weapon is culture.

We don't have physical trenches to confront this threat, but through our rich heritage and creativity, we can push back against the inferior view that is often projected onto Arabs.

It is crucial to communicate that this narrow-minded perspective will eventually backfire when the world realises the depth of our cultural contributions, both past and present.

The first step could be through platforms like magazines and other cultural institutions, which have immense potential to showcase the creative power of Arabs.

At this critical juncture in human history, where Arabs may not be leading in science and technology, it becomes even more essential to focus on our strengths in culture. This is the front line where we can innovate and influence.

Investing in cultural institutions is vital. Although Arabs may not be technological innovators today, they have a rich cultural heritage that can inspire and lead.

By supporting these cultural endeavours, Arab nations can reshape the global image of their people and ensure that their identity and language are preserved and celebrated.

Wealthy Arab nations have a significant role to play in this. By financially supporting institutions that promote Arab culture worldwide, they can positively influence how Arabs are perceived and ensure that their presence is felt and respected on the global stage.

The Book in a Newspaper project, which began in 1995 and distributed Arab literature widely to the public, ceased funding. Could it come back? 

It is entirely possible that it may return, but this is a separate topic from the Institute. As the owner and founder of this project during my time as a consultant to UNESCO, we are now working to revive it.

The project remains undeniably a hallmark of the modern age of Arabic culture. However, this time, I will be coordinating from the outside, re-establishing and overseeing it remotely due to my numerous responsibilities at the Institute.

I would like to extend my heartfelt appreciation to His Excellency Sheikh Mohamed bin Issa al-Jaber for his significant initiative.

For 17 years, writers contributed to a newspaper that published two million copies annually, distributed freely across the Arab world—a feat unmatched in both the past and present of the Arab community.

It has now become the largest and most influential cultural event of our time. Stay tuned for the New Launch Conference!

You held many diplomatic positions. How did you manage to combine the personality of poet and diplomat and did one overshadow the other? 

Frankly, becoming a diplomat was not my choice; it was born out of necessity. While in Paris, I initially worked in journalism and launched the magazine The Arab World in the French-speaking Press in 1976. The magazine aimed to convey what the French press was saying about the Arab world through translation.

I sold it to embassies and Arab news agencies, which became my livelihood. However, when Saddam Hussein revoked my passport, I found myself homeless and without an identity.

I then approached the South Yemen embassy at the time and took on the role of a cultural attaché. This marked the beginning of my cultural and diplomatic work with the embassy of the poorest Arab country.

Over time, my diplomatic career evolved. I opened the Yemeni Cultural Centre after the unification of Yemen and eventually transitioned to diplomatic work at UNESCO. After the fall of the dictator, I returned to represent Iraq at UNESCO as a permanent delegate.

This journey spanned many years and involved significant efforts to introduce Arabic culture in France. My diplomatic career became a way of life, despite it not being something I planned or studied for. Faith, love, and beauty are the great teachers.

Regarding the intersection of diplomacy and poetry, I often say that we forget how closely related they are—both the diplomat and the poet work within the realm of language.

The diplomat writes, speaks, holds seminars, and prepares reports for his country. Similarly, the poet works with language, but here lies the paradox.

The poet's relationship with language is one of distillation and revelation, an existential and creative connection. In contrast, the diplomat's is about conveying ideas and information in the simplest form, either to his country or to the host nation.

This creates a mutual benefit: the poet learns clarity from the diplomat, avoiding the distraction of poetic reverie, while the diplomat learns brevity from the poet, avoiding unnecessary details in the pursuit and expression of truth.

You once said, "I can't write my texts without falling under the influence of Sumerian literature." How did you translate this influence into your poems? 

Yes, I have a personal connection to this matter. I was born in Nasiriyah, the ancient city of Sumer. Modern Nasiriyah is just 5km from Ur, the capital of Sumerian civilisation.

When I was six-years-old, I had a near-fatal accident in the ruins of Ur. I took my teacher to see these ruins and nearly fell into a hole that I later learned was the tomb of the Sumerian dynasties. It was a majestic site when I returned. What led my young feet to this abyss where they discovered the bones of a lost civilisation?

My relationship with Sumer is deeply personal, as a son of a city that is the cradle of all religions. We saw Pope Francis praying at the ziggurat of Ur (the temple of Inanna), and before him, Pope John Paul II kissed the wall of Abraham's shrine there.

But beyond this, every poet today stands on a pyramid at least 5,000 years high. It consists of the earliest poetic texts, including the Epic of Gilgamesh, the myths of Inanna, the flood, creation stories, and Sumerian love poems.

A poet who writes today without acknowledging this profound heritage is turning their back on an unforgettable legacy.

What we feel today is merely a continuation of the flame ignited by these ancient texts, starting with the first lines of the Epic of Gilgamesh: 'He who has seen everything; Sing of his name, O my land.'

How can we write poetry today and not consider this? It was written not in Arabic but in Sumerian. This means that any poet today reading it only encounters it in translation, though it exists in all living languages. A poet who does not engage with this great heritage makes a misstep and diverges from the global course of poetry.

Between your first publication Conversation for the Singer of Arabia in 1976 and the poetry anthology Betrayal of Pain in 2023, you published more than 20 books. How do you view this journey with poetry today? 

I usually don't dwell on a text after it is created, whether it's a poem or a collection. I believe it will live on regardless of whether people like it or hate it.

Without poetry, I wouldn't experience life as I do now. I wouldn't feel its beauty and depth, or fully appreciate existence, love, nature, and humanity.

If it weren't for poetry, the ceiling above my head would feel oppressive and almost crushing; now, I see it as a sky. Without poetry, these walls would seem confining, but I don't feel trapped.

Poetry has given me freedom and allowed me to experience the most beautiful and profound aspects of life, such as love, discovering others, exploring continents and places, reading the stone with poetic insight, and embracing poetic sensitivity.