The Present State of Culture in Egypt

After the conclusion of the 57th edition of the Cairo International Book Fair, I traveled to Kuwait at the invitation of the National Council for Culture, Arts and Letters to participate in the main symposium of the Al-Qurain Cultural Festival. While in Kuwait, I could not shake the feeling that my mind was still suspended over what had taken place at the fairgrounds this year. Just as debates continued in Cairo—across social media platforms and among those interested in cultural affairs—after the fair’s conclusion, particularly regarding the massive public turnout, these same discussions also became a central topic in my conversations with those I met in Kuwait, where the fair was regarded as the most prominent Arab cultural event of the moment.

There was broad agreement regarding the vitality of the event and the positive, civilized significance of the remarkable public attendance. Yet opinions differed on the best methods of organization and on how to better benefit from this turnout by integrating audiences more effectively with the cultural activities themselves, which most observers agreed require reconsideration, especially in terms of publicity and outreach.

The main symposium of the Al-Qurain Cultural Festival was held under the title: “From Heritage to Creativity: Kuwait and the Journey of Arab Culture.” I participated in the opening session alongside a distinguished group of intellectuals from Kuwait and across the Arab world: Dr. Suleiman Al-Askari, Dr. Saud Hilal Al-Harbi, Mohammed Reda Nasrallah, and Dr. Al-Zawawi Baghoura, with Dr. Ahmed Al-Faraj moderating the discussion.

The term “heritage,” featured in the title of the Kuwait symposium, connects two Arab cultural capitals that once produced a cultural industry whose remnants we still rely upon today. Both cities succeeded in offering a remarkable model of cultural cooperation directed toward the general public with openness and democratic accessibility, without profit as its primary goal. On the contrary, it willingly endured losses in pursuit of enlightenment as its central mission.

To this day, we continue to draw many of our cultural working methods from the foundations established during the period extending from the 1950s and 1960s through the 1990s, before a gradual decline set in. Eventually, these institutions became unable to continue performing their role with the same effectiveness due to stagnant mechanisms and ideas, an inability to keep pace with the rapid transformations in the structure of societies, and the shift of those societies toward modern forms of knowledge and entertainment. This was followed by an even greater and more unsettling transformation: the democratization of tools of expression, whereby the public itself became capable of producing its own art and discourse.

The audience that filled the corridors of the Cairo Book Fair, or the audience that passionately followed Kuwait’s historic publications, is no longer a “recipient” in the classical sense. The fourth wall has completely collapsed. While cultural institutions remained preoccupied with restoring and revisiting their old texts, the streets were creating an alternative culture through digital fluidity. Here lies the gap: we possess a magnificent heritage, yet it lacks the modern “software” necessary to transfer it into the minds of new generations.

In the paper I presented during the event, I stated that: “Kuwaiti cultural action was part of a broader Arab contribution whose ambition was to reposition itself within a turbulent world similar to the one we face today. Therefore, revisiting that history, reviewing how it was formed, and tracing the roles it played is not merely a celebratory act, but rather a necessity for reconnecting with the present moment. In my view, it is essential to link the Kuwaiti cultural product to the historical context from which it emerged, because one of its defining strengths was its interaction with its surrounding environment, making it one of the tools through which we can read the events of the period extending from the 1950s until today.”

Across the various papers presented and throughout the symposium’s discussions, Arab intellectuals, creators, and media figures spoke about Kuwait’s contribution to different cultural fields. They traced its roles and transformations, ultimately arriving at the question: What comes next? It is a question that every Arab cultural capital should adopt, especially those whose cultural action once created fertile ground for thinking about the issues confronting their societies.

For this reason, I believe that the debate surrounding the audience of the Cairo International Book Fair is, to a large extent, misleading. It distracts us from a more fundamental discussion that we, as practitioners of cultural work, must first confront before turning toward the audience and questioning what they are doing among the exhibition halls. What exactly do we seek from this cultural industry in the first place?

During its golden eras, its objectives were clear: enlightenment, strengthening Arab interconnectedness, reinforcing belief in Arab causes and unity of destiny, among others. But what do we seek from cultural action in our current moment before we begin investigating the intentions and plans of the audience?

The importance of Kuwait’s contribution to the trajectory of Arab culture was rooted in the theory of the “committed intellectual” or the “organic intellectual,” and in serious efforts to spread cultural activity on democratic foundations and under the best possible production conditions. Its aim was to broaden the horizon of debate surrounding the Arab questions that have persisted for centuries. This was one of the key points I emphasized during the symposium. Consequently, this leads us to ask what this culture can offer today amid current transformations.

Let us ask frankly: Is it sufficient merely to continue along the same path as before, despite its undeniable importance?

Surely, the millions who visited the Cairo Book Fair were searching for answers to certain questions, even if they did not express them explicitly. By coincidence, these may very well be the same questions preoccupying the cultural community itself. One friend in Kuwait asked me: “Why would anyone endure such a journey if their sole purpose was merely recreation, as some claim?” It is a highly logical question and pushes us to distance ourselves somewhat from our stereotypical perceptions of audiences—perceptions shaped by our own assumptions, convictions, and aspirations that seek to confine this vast diversity under the single label of “the reader,” while asking whether they bought a book, whether they read, and what they read.

Instead, perhaps we should honestly acknowledge that culture is no longer based on the traditional image of the teacher and the follower. Both roles now constantly exchange positions in a world where everyone participates in producing art and culture.

Moreover, we are witnessing a radical transformation in the mechanisms of cultural action—if not in cultural content itself—under the conditions of rapidly changing digital fluidity. Ideas themselves no longer possess the same aura, and the enlightenment role of the intellectual has receded. More importantly than all of this, the human spirit itself has become threatened. Whereas creativity once consisted in arriving at new ideas, innovative solutions, or artistic forms, it is now shrinking into a matter of issuing instructions to artificial intelligence so that it performs on our behalf what we once did ourselves. And it is expected that, after some time, it may no longer even require those instructions.

It is important to remember that the Kuwaiti cultural project distinguished itself through its ability to bring together cultural actors—Arab intellectuals and creators from diverse orientations—upon a shared platform. As is well known, its foundation rested upon Egyptian-Kuwaiti cooperation in establishing the initial framework before the project opened itself to all Arabs. Consequently, ideas and concerns intertwined, producing a continuity of diversity and vitality across various publications while preserving a high degree of intellectual seriousness.

Can we hope to replicate such an experience once again so that we may better comprehend our present moment?