Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, global media—particularly newspapers—were filled with advertisements targeting non-English speakers in their native languages, inviting them to travel, mostly to the United States and occasionally to Britain, to learn the language and immerse themselves in local culture. These ads were often accompanied by highly appealing images, depicting an idealised, beautiful environment that could tempt even those with no prior interest in such programmes to consider enrolling, if only for the travel and exposure to an attractive new culture.
It is worth noting that this type of investment was largely supported by both the American and British governments, whether through financial and political backing or even direct promotion via embassies and cultural institutions. These campaigns were undeniably successful, drawing thousands of English learners from across the world. The influx of students became an important economic resource for both nations, despite their status as economic powerhouses—something that might surprise those who dismiss such investments as ‘trivial’.
Then the global order shifted. The 11 September attacks brought the Arab world into the international spotlight, turning it into a theatre for the most significant global news stories. Islamophobia spread, and suddenly, anyone who practised Islam or spoke its holy language became the subject of intense scrutiny. This surge in interest made Arabic one of the most sought-after languages for study—not necessarily out of admiration, but because this region of the world had piqued global curiosity. From the United States, which led the latest war against Arabs, to distant countries with no apparent reason to learn Arabic beyond personal interest—Mongolia, for instance—the demand for Arabic instruction skyrocketed.
Egypt, by fortune, became the primary destination for these students. Its dialect serves as a linguistic bridge understood by Arabs across the region, thanks to Egypt’s longstanding dominance in media, which has permeated nearly every Arab household. This, combined with Egypt’s rich historical and cultural landscape, its political influence, and, of course, its renowned tourism industry, made it the natural hub for Arabic language learners.
Yet, a quick glance at the state of this thriving language market reveals severe neglect and official indifference. High-quality Arabic education is offered almost exclusively by a handful of foreign institutions, such as the American University in Cairo, AMIDEAST, and the French Cultural Centre. These organisations attract thousands of students annually, with each individual paying between $2,000 and $10,000 per semester to master the language—a process that, realistically, takes no less than two years.
Al-Azhar does offer Arabic courses for non-native speakers, but according to many foreign students, its methods are far removed from modern language-teaching practices. Similarly, some private language centres provide Arabic instruction, yet they remain far from the level of success seen in other educational investments that capitalise on a country’s cultural assets—resources that, in this case, are available ‘for free’.
More baffling still is the fact that official universities, cultural centres, and research institutions have paid little attention to this readily available investment opportunity. If any initiatives do exist, they are extremely limited and of poor quality. It is astonishing that these institutions continue to turn their backs on an economic resource that could expand exponentially, especially as long as the world continues to keep the Arab region under the microscope.
Beyond the financial benefits, the failure to take charge of Arabic language education has left this sensitive cultural service in the hands of foreign entities, allowing outsiders to introduce learners to Arabic language and culture on our behalf—as if they know us better than we know ourselves. Perhaps it would be wiser for national and official institutions to step up and offer a more balanced representation of our language and culture, fostering genuine friendships and ambassadors who can share a true and nuanced understanding of this land and its people with the world.
This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.