When Arabic Sounds Like English Wearing a Thobe (And Why That's A Problem)

A friend once complimented my jacket. Without thinking, I said: "مقدّم" (muqaddam).

She stared at me blankly. She's from the Gulf. I'm not.

"What does that mean?"

"Wait, you don't say that? It means... it's yours. Like, it's presented to you. Because you complimented it."

Two Arabic speakers who speak the same language, but it's still different worlds living inside different words. So, if Arabic doesn't even translate smoothly within itself across areas, how do brands think they can just run English copy through Google Translate and call it localization?

This is the reality I live in and it's exactly why 'translation' is the wrong word for what I do.

Why 'Just Translate It' Is a Red Flag

Here's what my inbox looks like some weeks:

Subject: Quick translation needed

Attachment: Arabic_Social_Posts_Q1

Inside a google sheet are 27 Instagram captions all perfectly crafted in Arabic.

The instructions: Translate to English and keep the same tone and character count.

The problem: you can't.

Take a caption like: "خلك مرتاح، خلك بالبيت"

Word-for-word? "Stay comfortable, stay at home."

But that's not what it means. خلك (khallik) is softer than a command, warmer than a suggestion....almost affectionate. And مرتاح (mirtaḥ) isn't just "comfortable." It's at ease, or at peace.

The feeling is: Let yourself rest. Be home. Be at peace.

But if I write that in English, it sounds like a meditation app, not a home delivery service. And if I write "Stay comfortable, stay home," it sounds like a pandemic PSA.

So now I have to ask: What's the English equivalent of that warmth? That assumption that home = comfort = community?

Sometimes the answer is: there isn't one. English doesn't do that texture of care in the same way. So I either have to write something completely different that feels the same, or I have to explain why the Arabic has to be completely rewritten.

When Beautiful Isn't أجمل

I once had to translate this Arabic tagline into English:

نعمل .. لعالم أجمل

Simple, right? Word-for-word: "We work... for a more beautiful world."

But it didn't land. In English, "beautiful world" sounds like a beauty pageant answer.

But in Arabic? أجمل (ajmal) isn't just "beautiful" or even "better." It carries a sense of aesthetic and moral goodness together. A more beautiful world is also a more just world, a more harmonious world. The word holds weight that "beautiful" in English simply doesn't carry.

And the rhythm of نعمل .. لعالم أجمل has a pause that builds a sense of collective action toward something meaningful.

You can't transplant that into English syntax and expect it to breathe the same way. I tried "Building a better world." Too corporate. "Working toward a more beautiful future." Too long, and "beautiful" still felt wrong. Eventually, the English became something else entirely because the concept lives differently in each language.

The same problem occurs in reverse because language is akin to a worldview in syntax form. And when that worldview doesn't transfer, you're looking at a copywriting problem, not a translation problem.

A Story About a Brand That Got It Beautifully Wrong

When IKEA opened its store in Bahrain, locals noticed the enormous storefront sign that read "Create your perfect night's sleep," and directly underneath it was Arabic text that literally said, "The same as written, but in Arabic."

Was it just instructions that someone forgot to follow, or a well-crafted opportunity? No one really knows, but the internet had a field day.

Regardless of what happened, this isn't a story about incompetence or PR, but about what happens when translation is treated as an afterthought, like something you outsource to the lowest bidder at the last minute.

It was obvious that Arabic was something to be handled in production and not during the creative process. When you treat a language and, by extension, its speakers, as an afterthought, sometimes the mask slips and reveals exactly how the brand sees that market.

Arabic markets deserve the same creative investment that went into the Swedish original.

That's the shift we need to make.

**Your Turn***

Drop us a message and tell us your biggest challenges with Arabic content.

No sales pitches here. Just a conversation about what's actually hard about this work.