We've Had Enough of This Nonsense

I walk into a café to meet a friend and find dozens of Jordanian teenagers and young adults, all under the age of twenty. Not a single one is speaking Arabic not even a single word.

Months earlier, I witnessed a similar scene in a supermarket in Amman, where students from a private school had come to buy snacks.

They joked and laughed with one another entirely in English. Watching and listening to them reminded me of my years living abroad and my travels to Western countries.

I spent a considerable period living and working in London. Whether on trains, in supermarkets, parks, or public spaces, I never heard a British citizen speaking to another Briton in French, Arabic, or any language other than English.

If you live among them, it is you who must learn their language not the other way around and understand their culture, just as you value your own.

During a visit to Istanbul and Ankara, I found it equally striking that Turkish citizens communicated almost exclusively in Turkish. Few spoke English, and visitors had to manage with translation tools or find other ways to communicate.

I am not opposed to learning foreign languages, traveling, or engaging with other cultures, On the contrary, I believe knowledge and cultural exchange enrich societies. What concerns me, however, in Jordan and perhaps in other Arab countries as well is what appears to be a gradual erosion of cultural, national, and religious identity.

When Arabs speak to one another in English in an Arab society, it does not necessarily reflect progress or educational achievement, rather, it may signal a growing detachment from their original identity one that extends beyond language to broader cultural and social values.

The author asks why Arabs cannot learn English and use it where appropriate instead of replacing Arabic in everyday conversations within their own communities.

He also questions the connection younger generations maintain with their heritage and the issues affecting the Arab world. He argues that if these language skills were used more often to communicate internationally about issues such as the war in Gaza or regional challenges, they could serve a far more meaningful purpose.

According to Abu Tair, this concern is not rooted in isolationism but in sadness over what he sees as the gradual dismantling of Arab identity.

He argues that abandoning the Arabic language inevitably weakens people’s connection to Jordan’s history, the wider region, and the challenges shaping their societies.

He recalls employing an Indonesian domestic worker who spent months diligently learning Arabic so she could read the Quran correctly.

Every morning she would wake before dawn to perform the Fajr prayer, while, in his view, many Arabs and Muslims were abandoning both the Arabic language and important aspects of their religious and cultural traditions under the influence of globalization.

Language, he writes, is not a symbol of intolerance but a source of spiritual and cultural identity that reflects a nation’s history, present, future, and way of thinking, losing it does not make a person more modern; instead, it risks leaving them disconnected from their roots.

The author also points to the experience of immigrants in Europe, arguing that even those who adopted local languages, names, clothing, and customs were not always fully accepted.

For him, this demonstrates the importance of finding a balance remaining open to the world, learning foreign languages, and benefiting from other cultures without abandoning one’s own heritage, which he believes remains deeply valuable.

He concludes by criticizing the habit of mixing English words into everyday Arabic conversation, describing it as an unnecessary affectation.

In his words, people have “seen this performance before” and have simply “had enough of this nonsense.”