You’re Doing it Again, Kuwait
Demolishing Bayt Lothan to Build a Mall in its Place?
This is an edited version of the article that appeared in the Arab Times on February 23, 2016, page 3.
There is a cartoon image of the demolition of Bayt Lothan making the rounds on Facebook. The replies and captions reflect despair. They focus on our loss of culture and tradition and frequently blame our rising consumerist habits. But there is more to this story than our talent for pointing fingers and our never taking responsibility for socio-political change. There is also our finding absolute comfort in a fake dichotomy that we’ve inherited from discourses on modernity: the binary which separates “culture” from “commerce.”
Who is to blame for demolishing Bayt Lothan: the community service institution whose aim is to nurture arts and crafts in Kuwait?
Us.¹
Not “Kuwait.”
Not even the owners of Bayt Lothan.
But us. You and me, dear reader.
There are 365 days a year, 366 in a leap year, and I wonder how many days each year we (each one of us who is saddened by the destruction of Bayt Lothan) spent actively supporting this institution?
How many shows did we attend, how many events did we organize, how many lectures did we advertise? I think it is safe to say that had we been sufficiently proactive there would have been no need to compare the benefits of building a new mall with maintaining the cultural services at Bayt Lothan. As a result, I’ll exclaim in the voice of Bernie Sanders, “Enough is enough.” No more fingers pointing outward.
There are other points to bear in mind.
- First,
A mall is versatile, since it’s nothing but a mercantile establishment that consists of a landscaped complex of shops which customers frequent to satisfy their needs (whether by procuring items or receiving services, such as eating, watching movies, enjoying the arcades, etc).²
Malls are versatile. Yes you can visit a mall to buy commodities, but you can also coordinate a number of highly creative, academic, or athletic events there as well.
Indie bazaars in parking lots? Check. Reading group sessions in coffee shops? Check. Concerts? Plays? Marathons? Check. Walking tours during Ramathan to help people stay in shape — while enjoying the benefit of air-conditioning? Check. Poetry competitions? Check. Art galleries? Flash mobs? Check and check.
And you can do much more.
You are artists, innovators, and entrepreneurs. Do not let a false dichotomy prevent you from doing what you were born to do. Basically: to innovate, aestheticize, and fulfill real social needs.
- Second,
Malls include inbuilt audiences and enjoy regular visitors. Now before the Kuwaiti elite suffer a heart attack while reading this, let me remind my readers that cultural centers themselves are hierarchized as well. For instance, those who attended Italian opera at Dar al-Athar are unlikely to be the people who visit a young adult science fiction reading session at Bayt Lothan. The situation with malls is similar. Those who shop at Al-Hamra Mall or Al-Thuraya Complex are probably not the customers of Kuwait Magic. Spillage does occur of course, and it is a beautiful thing. But one can be sure that one’s art gallery or poetry event will find a new venue and still maintain a select audience.
- Third,
No “loss of culture” is taking place in Kuwait.
There is a loss of obsolete spaces and institutions.
There is a loss of archaic habits and ideas.
Countries never remain static, after all, no matter how strongly we feel about our childhood memories.
Rather than “Should we maintain this institution or demolish it?” I suggest reframing the question into, “How can we adapt to modern changes by learning from the lessons of the past?”
This is the point where I would remind my readers that there is, at the moment, a massive cyclone of new art, new culture, new alliances, new collaborations, new ways of viewing, new ways of listening, and new ways of being that are flourishing in the country.
Every day, it seems, dozens of “cultural” events take place. They don’t need to stem from a specific institution or be only nostalgically cultural.
They are mobile, intersectional, and abundant.
We must not perpetuate the old mistake. We must not ignore the renaissance that artists, musicians, writers, sculptures, and performers are experiencing in Kuwait until something happens and they lose funding or confidence, or God-forbid, are even outlawed.
We must not find ourselves in the same place once again, lamenting the “loss” of Kuwait’s creative energy and pointing fingers anywhere but at ourselves.
Let us invest in the revolution that is taking place under our very noses. Let us support our artist friends, spread posters of their gigs, and invite friends to various cultural events. Let us empower, inspire, and advocate by immersing ourselves in this creative cyclone. And let us do this in such a way that, when the time comes to compare the value of maintaining the cultural revolution or suppressing it, for whatever economic or ideological reason, there will be no doubt which is more advantageous for Kuwait.
Let our actions today ensure the outcome of tomorrow.
In sum, if we want cultural centers in Kuwait to remain as they are, or to be improved, we have to be more active.
Second, we shouldn’t fear malls. We should instead devise creative ways to utilize their versatility.
Third, we can still choose to create silos within these malls to build communities of like-minded individuals to increase and strengthen the bonds between artists, intellectuals, and innovative communities in Kuwait.
And we can also choose to influence the general public by creating transformative works of art that draw in new allies, one day at a time, one mall at a time, until no mall in Kuwait can ever be thought of as “un-cultural;” until no one in Kuwait is ever again asked to choose between creativity or commerce.
Notes
[1] Unfortunately, there will be some superficial people who read this article and think that I am recommending malls instead of asking creatives (a) to keep creating wherever they can, and (b) to genuinely support those who are making art today. There is nothing I can do to prevent superficial people from thinking whatever they want. But just in case you’re not one of them, and you are genuinely wondering where I stand on the issue, in 2014 (2 years before this article), I wrote a poem lamenting Kuwait’s consistent demolition of art spaces to build malls instead. The poem was uncreatively called, “They Built a Mall,” and I shared it in CityPages magazine, April 2014.
[2] This is a personal subject for me, since Bayt Lothan wasn’t a nostalgic establishment but a living home for me and my friends. When Q8Books could no longer afford its rent and Kuwaiti lawyer and book lover, Fajer Al-Refai, decided to rescue the establishment, she called me. We met after work at The Regency Hotel to write an email asking if Q8Books could be hosted at Bayt Lothan. Bayt Lothan became a home to many of my friends when Q8Bookstore moved there. Fajer did a remarkable job breathing a creative soul into the neglected establishment. I wrote this article because I was frustrated by the public outcry after the announcement of the impending demolition. I was annoyed by people bemoaning the loss of an institution that they had actively neglected for decades. My friends and I would have loved their support while we were creating and sharing art. But all we got, instead, was social media activism about how people valued the place that they had neglected since the “80s.” Thankfully, the younger creative crowd was less about posturing for social media attention. Instead, they continued to pour their hearts out into their works, forge connections, and support one another – wherever they could. They carried on the creative spirit not only when Q8Bookstore left Bayt Lothan and found a temporary home at Dar Al-Athar al-Islamiyyah, but in any place they could cultivate a safe environment for creatives to be vulnerable and brave. When Q8Bookstore then migrated to Kuwait City, Fajer gave it a new name: Bliss and Paper. It continues to provide the same opportunities for local creatives. In December 2021, in fact, she gave a workshop on how to set New Year’s Goals that impacted my life. As a result of that workshop, I began a 6-months certified coaching program to help serve my creative community better. So let me just reiterate this point from the article: Art and culture is happening every day in Kuwait. If you really care about this community, support creatives.
