In Osman Hamdi Bey’s luminous painting Young Emir Studying, a young man reclines gracefully on a patterned carpet, wrapped in a robe so vividly green it seems to glow. His yellow turban rests gently atop his head as he bends toward a book, completely absorbed. One hand props his chin with quiet focus, while the other traces the lines of Ottoman Turkish written in elegant Arabic script—an intimate gesture familiar to anyone who has ever lost themselves in a meaningful text.
The painting captures not merely a moment of study, but a portrait of intentional stillness. The young emir—by title a person of privilege, likely surrounded by comfort, attendants, diversions, and ease—chooses knowledge instead of leisure. He creates for himself a private refuge, a sanctuary of learning shielded from the clamor of his world.
And yet, it is tempting to imagine: if this same emir lived today, in 2025, would he still choose a book? Or would a phone’s soft glow pull him into its endless scroll? Would he explore the pages of history, philosophy, or theology—or fall into the swift currents of notifications, viral videos, and digital distraction?
The contrast invites us to reflect on our own relationship with reading. Digital access has expanded the horizons of human knowledge, making libraries’ worth of information available with a single tap. But this blessing is inseparable from its burden: the constant noise, the fleeting content, the erosion of attention. For some, access to online learning became a lifeline—especially for young women in Afghanistan who, after being barred from schools, sought hope through online classrooms. Even that fragile lifeline was cut when the internet was shut down for days.
Meanwhile, in the UAE, the culture of books continues to root itself through decades-old traditions. The Abu Dhabi International Book Fair and the Sharjah International Book Fair—both founded in the 1980s—stand as pillars of cultural exchange, hosting authors, scholars, publishers, and curious readers from around the world. Sharjah’s most recent edition drew 1.4 million visitors from more than 200 countries, underscoring the region’s deep literary heartbeat. Dubai joined this landscape with the Emirates Airline Festival of Literature, inviting conversations, workshops, and stories that span the globe.
Yet numbers alone do not shield a culture from decline. Across the Arab world, the pull of social media often overshadows the slower, more nourishing pleasure of reading. The fast pace of digital life risks creating generations more comfortable with swipes than sentences.
Recognizing this, Dubai launched the Arab Reading Challenge in 2015—an initiative that has since inspired millions of children and young adults to read, reflect, and take pride in their literary journey. But the effort cannot rest on institutions alone; the most powerful influence remains the example of parents, teachers, and caregivers who model the joy of reading in everyday life.
Back at Louvre Abu Dhabi, Young Emir Studying remains one of the museum’s most beloved works. Visitors gather around him daily, some drawn by the emerald glow of his garments, others by the serenity he exudes. The painting’s second version, housed at the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool, shares its composition but lacks the rich palette and emotional resonance of the Abu Dhabi original.
The young emir’s presence has transcended the canvas—his image now found on postcards, posters, and museum keepsakes. More importantly, he has become a symbol of contemplation and purpose in a world that moves at near-chaotic speed.
There is wisdom in the Arabic proverb he embodies: “A book is the best companion.”
For in reading, we rediscover focus. In reading, we reclaim solitude. In reading, we encounter new worlds that shape our thinking long after we turn the final page.
Just as the emir retreats into his book, perhaps we, too, can resist the lure of noise. We can choose moments of quiet learning—opening a book, a magazine, or a newspaper not merely to pass time, but to enrich it. In doing so, we reconnect with the deeper joys of being human: curiosity, reflection, and the simple pleasure of understanding the world a little more than we did before.
