Abu Dhabi’s recently launched Literary Project Kalima, with its admirable goal of translating “high quality foreign writing” into Arabic seems to have inadvertently revived the ever-persistent belief that Arab and book do not fit into the same sentence, unless book is preceded by holy.

Kalima’s Press Coverage section is rather incomplete, but one proudly linked article (from Prospect Magazine) contains this tiny little bit of irony. Predictably, in the opening paragraph, there’s the shocking announcement that “a UN report discovered that only 330 books from other languages were translated into Arabic annually”.

But before you get to the opening paragraph you get to read the title: “Reading Lolita in the Arab World?” I’m not entirely sure whether the question mark is intended as a mark of derision, qualification or mere idle allusion. Idle or not though, the allusion to Reading Lolita inTehran, with the “iconic burglary” involved in its cover picture, does make the point quite effectively.

Undeniably, we - Arabs - do not read enough. The UN said so. We know so. Unfortunately, “more books are translated into Spanish a year than have been translated into Arabic in a millennium” translates, for some, into Arabs don’t read. At all. In any language.

As this Cif comment shows: “The real problem about literacy in the Arab world (at least in the Gulf, I have heard it is much better in the rest of the region) is not that books are unavailable, it is that people simply do not read. At all. In any language.” (On the Authority of KrustytheKlown)

The Independent cites the UN’s “widely-circulated statistic” as “one of the triggers which led to [Kalima’s] creation.” Because, clearly, the 2002 Arab Human Development Report, (compiled by a “group of distinguished Arab intellectuals” described as “written by Arabs for Arabs,” and advertised by the Saudi Arab News as “compulsory reading” for every Arab) proved that Arabs don’t read. For a while, it appeared to be Thomas Friedman’s new best friend. Sam Harris still likes to quote it. It is also featured on Jihad Watch.

Some have argued that the report, which admits that “there are no reliable figures on the production of books, but many indicators suggest a severe shortage of writing…” does have its inevitable weak points. For example, that very widely circulated statistic may be wrong. According to Eugune Rogan, in his article on the AHDR, “the figure for Spain is spurious; its total figure for book publishing, of which translations would be a minor part, does not exceed several thousand each year.”

Several other issues Rogan notes are: “the paucity of hard statistics, the normative value assigned to certain types of books, and the unspoken assumption that the Arab world lags behind the rest of the world in intellectual terms for want of a sufficient number of translated works.”Rogan also points to the different levels of the importance of translation in different cultures: “Before embarking on a translation, an Arab publisher would need to be convinced that the “Arabic-only” reading public would buy a given titles in sufficient numbers to warrant translation” as those who can read a book in its original language would probably not want to buy a translation of that book. Conversely, “Because people in the West tend not to read books in languages other than their own, they are dependent on translations to enter the literature of another culture.”

To say the Arab publishing world is thriving and well would be sheer comedy. But to call the Arab book a “threatened species” in the same year that the Cairo International Book Fair “drew 3,125 publishers from 97 countries, displaying 5 million books and attracting 4,350,000 visitors” also seems a little odd.

Whether or not the AHDR was 100% accurate, it is undeniable that we need more translations into Arabic, and so what Kalima is doing is wonderful, of course. Bizarre cover designs, slightly unusual selection of high-quality books, a tendency to see the western canon and foreign writing as synonymous. But, still, wonderful.

From the approving reviews, however, one would think Kalima had invented translating into Arabic. One would also think that Kalima is hopping impatiently from one foot to the other, waiting in the wings for the West’s official ‘Recommended Reading for Ragheads’ list to be compiled. Terry Teachout (Wall Street Journal) obligingly trots out a list to be “distribut[ed]…throughout the Arab world by hook, crook, camel, backpack or parachute.”

Other well-wishing critics and columnists ask readers to leave comments with their suggestions. Earnest western-canon thumpers suggesting titles for Kalima translations include, as a tentative candidate, Shakespeare.