Ali Hamad Al Marri
In today’s fast-paced digital world, the Qatari dialect—the rhythm, tone, and spirit of our everyday speech—is slowly fading into the background. As young Qataris scroll through global content, study in English-medium schools, and engage in multilingual workplaces, the soft power of our dialect is under silent threat.
This change is not an attack, but a natural result of globalisation. English has become the dominant language in academia, business, and even social media. For many youth, fluency in global languages is seen as essential for success. While this opens doors, it also presents an unintended consequence: our native dialect becomes less used, less understood, and eventually, less valued. But here lies the critical question: can a nation remain strong if its voice becomes unfamiliar to its own youth?
For centuries, the Qatari dialect was passed from majlis to majlis, from parent to child, from storyteller to eager listener. It carried wisdom, humour, history, and the deeply embedded values of Qatari life. It wasn’t just language—it was a way of seeing the world. The dialect shaped not only how we spoke, but how we connected to each other, built communities, and passed on memories. Today, however, many children grow up speaking a hybrid of Arabic, English, and sometimes even Hindi, Tagalog, or Urdu.
This is not a cry for linguistic purity. Qatar is proudly multicultural, and that diversity enriches us. But even within this global embrace, we must protect our own voice. A language that disappears takes with it stories, emotions, and a cultural map that no translation can replace.
The solution does not lie in isolation or resistance, but in celebration and innovation. We must make our dialect visible, valuable, and vibrant—not only in traditional spaces but in digital ones. Imagine animated children’s series produced in Qatari Arabic, TikTok influencers popularising authentic phrases, or YouTube creators interviewing elders about unique expressions. Public schools can dedicate time weekly for students to share family stories in dialect.
Social media platforms, often blamed for eroding tradition, can become digital majlises—spaces where dialect-based poetry, jokes, and micro-stories are proudly shared. A trending hashtag in Qatari Arabic might reach further than a government brochure. When culture adapts to the medium, it survives.
Furthermore, national institutions like Katara, Qatar Foundation, the Ministry of Culture, and the Qatar National Library can play a transformative role. They can initiate a comprehensive Digital Dialect Archive—an online platform that records voices of elders, captures local proverbs, documents regional variations, and teaches the next generation how to speak from the soul, not just the script.
This isn’t nostalgia. It’s preservation. Just as we protect falcons, dhow boats, and traditional songs, we must protect our words. Our dialect is the emotional memory of our people. It is our link to the past and our gift to the future.
Preserving our dialect does not mean rejecting others. It means recognizing that our cultural DNA must be safeguarded even as we engage with the world.
Because once a language fades, so too does a piece of the soul behind it. And when that soul weakens, so does the unique fingerprint a nation leaves on the world.
Our dialect is not a relic of the past—it is a living identity. It tells the world where we come from, what we value, and who we are becoming. It tells our children that they are part of a lineage that speaks with meaning, pride, and authenticity.
The time to act is now—before the voice of Qatar is heard only in recordings, not in conversations.
— Al Marri is an employee at the Ministry of Environment and Climate Change's Reserves and Wildlife Department.
Al Marri is an employee at the Ministry of Environment and Climate Change , Reserves and Wildlife Department.
