A few months ago, I stood at the now partly privatized beach at Damestan. I asked myself, "What are we doing?" 

After multiple conversations over the past couple of months, particularly more intensely in recent weeks, with those who have been part of Mawane and those still contributing to it, as well as with trusted friends and confidants, we at Mawane have decided to close down the platform. Below are the reasons for this decision, reflecting my views, some or all of which are shared by others who have been part of these discussions. 

When any grassroots initiative is formed, it should have the capacity to grow. A platform that has no space for growth will eventually cease to exist; it will have taken in all the air it is allowed and will then begin to contract. This situation can be frustrating for those involved because it is like taking water from a well only to pour it back in. The current cultural landscape does not support such growth.

The second point is that I have come to see the impossibility of a truly civil society within a neo-liberal cultural landscape, especially when coupled with the current political climate. Any attempts to envision otherwise are illusions. The only spaces available within this landscape are institutions, which now bear the responsibility not only to promote themselves as entities but also to find ways to fill the role traditionally played by civil society. These institutions must also grapple with the paradoxes of what an active civil society outside of them would look like.

A few years ago, a close friend and contributor to Mawane wrote about civil society within the region with hope and emphasized their agency in bringing about societal change. An academic on the region that I follow noted, however, we are perhaps neither here nor there. Civil societies are only as strong as the capacity of their members to work collectively for genuine change, and not just an illusion of change. Without this collective effort, honesty about where we truly stand, no meaningful transformation can occur, and we will remain consumers of imported ideas rather than active drivers of change. 

Over the past decade, there has been a gradual decline in faith in humanity, which has steepened significantly in recent years. This has left many of us questioning the nature of the systems we inhabit and are part of. I feel defeated, but I see this not as a negative thing. I prefer a sense of defeat over a false sense of victory. In defeat, we are able to retreat, contemplate, and reflect. We question our actions, unpack them, and understand what worked and what did not. If we choose to re-engage, we can alter our trajectories and approaches. If a wave is heading towards you in the ocean, you do not resist it; you allow it to carry you, hoping it will take you towards better shores. Recognizing defeat is better than propagating fake victories. Defeat offers an opportunity for learning and growth.

Yet I am also reminded, and want to remind others, that we are not passive beings in this world. The world we live in was shaped by others for us, but we also have the power to create it anew, in the ways we envision and aspire to. Or to quote an author I like:

“The ultimate, hidden truth of the world is that it is something that we make and could just as easily make differently”. We have agency, and I am still searching for the meaning of the word in Arabic, both figuratively and literally. 

To leave this note on a more positive note, that is equally true. I am grateful for the past eleven years for Mawane, because it has taught me so much. It has brought people together, in Bahrain and beyond. It has enabled engaging in deep conversations and learning opportunities. It has opened the path for engaging with communities in Bahrain that are often isolated and learning up close from those who we share this land with. We learnt with each project about legislations, conditions of different groups in society, and how both the built environment and our lives in public are regulated. It was community driven, rooted in place, but it did transcend the rising discourse of nationalism, thinking of inclusivity, the feature of an island that once welcomed many people to its shores, became a home to everyone, where no one was a foreigner.

We have produced an abundance of research, learnt about where information is, and how to access it. From histories of the built environment to the condition of public spaces today. I would have liked to end this period in Mawane with a book series that contains this research, or at least part of it, but I will not make promises that I cannot keep. I can be available to provide professional consultation that are rooted in this knowledge if someone needs it. 

Mawane has made me aware of others' efforts, because I know that whatever is put out there takes a lot of preparation. That everyone is trying in their own way to dream up new spaces and worlds, and we should encourage this when we encounter it, we should support those who can imagine something different. Knowing the backstage of working in these spaces, that there is no financial gain, in fact, the opposite, which should make us more appreciative of those trying to create change, whether it is with virtually no resources or limited ones. There are many new initiatives taking place, and I look forward to watching how they develop and evolve. They might be more innovative in finding ways to continue and grow beyond the limits that we have encountered. 

Many people have contributed to Mawane over the years, and each is appreciated. But I would like to thank a few people whose support was extremely useful. Ahmed Taleb, because of whom I started Mawane. He approached me over a decade ago to work with him on a research project for Khosh Housh. At the time, he was more involved in research and doing beautiful work. The project did not go through, but this was the nucleus from which Mawane grew. 

I would also like to thank the Damestan Beach committee, who have welcomed us over the years to use the beach and its amenities. We ran various workshops and meetings there. They would often offer us trips on their boat. We tried to work with them to develop a design for the beach that they could use to advocate for maintaining the beach as a public space. They have given everyone who encounters them lessons in how to cultivate, with love, the land. 

Thanks to two women who have cultivated two different types of spaces and cultural landscapes that have enabled us and many others to thrive in the past. Bayan Kanoo and Alriwaq, which was a space of connections and Shaikha Mai, who created an interesting and dynamic scene for cultural practitioners. Mawane has benefited directly from their support and understanding of the need for critical spaces and indirectly from their patronage of culture.

I am honoured to have known every contributor. Many of our core community members have left Bahrain; both they and the ones here are currently working on interesting projects of their own. It is an honour to have known them, worked with them, and to be a witness to their growth and evolution in their respective practices. 

We conclude Mawane today and celebrate everything that has been achieved over the past eleven years.

Thank you to everyone who was part of Mawane,

from 2014-2025.

Suha Hasan

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