The richness of the Arabic language allows for the most ordinary, even trivial, matters to be described with grandeur, as though they were the final word on any subject. But what is even more remarkable is how political figures across the Arab world have perfected the art of transforming failure, defeat, and tired rhetoric into a spectacle that stirs emotions and prompts applause—for nothing at all. This is exactly what happens every time the idea of Arab economic unity is resurrected for the hundredth time, long after the dream of political unity has been relegated to the myths of the past.

Last week, the familiar enthusiasm made yet another appearance at what was called the ‘First International Conference for Egyptian-Libyan-Sudanese Partnership’. The event (without questioning its good intentions) fell prey to the same outdated Arab nationalist sentiment that once fuelled grand but empty dreams. Some media outlets even adorned their headlines with the phrase: ‘The Golden Triangle Project between Egypt, Libya, and Sudan’.

In essence, and to be fair, the conference did produce positive recommendations: laying the foundations for economic partnership, focusing on infrastructure projects, facilitating the movement of people and capital between the three countries, removing legal barriers, and establishing a joint committee to regulate labour migration and resolve workers’ issues. It also proposed the creation of a monitoring body to track developmental progress.

But the ambitions did not stop there. The conference went as far as recommending the establishment of a common Arab market, beginning with these three countries as a foundation for a broader African economic bloc. It also urged political coordination to strengthen both the Arab League and the African Union, aiming to transform them into powerful institutions akin to international organisations such as the European Union.

The project, in its simplest form, is positive by all measures. However, dressing it in an oversized robe is a mistake Arabs seem unable to resist—so much so that it has become almost comical. Consider phrases used at the conference, such as: ‘It is essential to involve the people, through civil society organisations, in shaping the concept of partnership, defining its levels, dimensions, and sectors, so that it gains a popular base rather than remaining an elitist idea vulnerable to political fluctuations.’ As if the people of these particular nations have the real ability to engage in such theoretical discourse when it comes to actual implementation.

Another grand statement declared: ‘The potential of these three countries gives them a significant opportunity for economic integration. Together, they possess half the landmass of the Arab world and half its population.’ As if sheer numbers alone dictate power—an assumption as flawed as the Egyptian proverb that likens large quantities to mere lemons. Did no one at the conference realise that the dynamics of power and influence have changed? That a tiny Gulf state, no bigger than a single district of Cairo, now has the authority to dictate, command, unify, and divide at will?

Arabs must abandon this outdated, heroic rhetoric that dates back to the 1950s. Each era has its own realities, and each platform requires a different message. The dream of Arab unity—economic or, heaven forbid, political—remains a noble one. But without it, the region will only sink deeper into the quagmire in which it is already trapped. The only way out is through pragmatic, concrete groundwork that avoids the flowery language of ancient poetry. Trying to cross from the shores of poverty, ignorance, and weakness using a paper boat will take us nowhere—except back to where we started.

This article is originally published by AlBorsa in Arabic and later AI-translated by South Push.