Set Texts, Wider Windows: Why Arabic Fiction Deserves a Place in UK Classrooms

UK secondary English is often described as a broad church. In practice, the reading lists can feel like a narrow aisle: a Shakespeare play, a nineteenth-century novel, a modern drama, a cluster of poems, maybe a contemporary novel chosen for its exam-friendly themes. Arabic literature, whether in translation or written by diaspora authors, rarely appears. That is not because there is nothing suitable. It is because the syllabus, the library budget and the confidence of teachers have not caught up with the books.

As English departments review their curricula for 2026 and beyond, there is a chance to change that without tearing up the exam specifications. Arabic fiction and poetry do not need to be set texts to be taught. Extracts, wider-reading lists, book clubs, unseen prose and A-level coursework can all make room. The argument is not that every student must study Arabic literature. It is that a UK classroom that claims to teach world literature while ignoring one of the world's great literary traditions is leaving a window shut.

The curriculum is not a canon, it is a conversation

Exam boards set texts for good reasons: comparability, support materials, manageable assessment. But the set text is only part of what students read. The wider reading around it is where curiosity grows. A dystopian unit can include Basma Abdel Aziz alongside Orwell and Atwood. A unit on identity and migration can pair Arabic short stories with British diaspora writing. A poetry lesson can compare translations of Mahmoud Darwish or Nizar Qabbani with poems about place and belonging. None of this requires a specification change. It requires a librarian, a photocopier and a teacher willing to read outside the list.

The other objection is language. Teachers worry they cannot pronounce names, cannot check the Arabic, cannot speak to the cultural context. Translation is exactly the point. We teach translated Russian, French and German texts without expecting every teacher to speak the source language. Arabic deserves the same confidence. Good translations come with notes, introductions and translator's afterwords; many have glossaries. The teacher does not need to be an expert in Arab history. They need to be honest about what they know and willing to learn alongside the class.

Five translated works that can work in class

1. The Baghdad Clock by Shahad Al Rawi, translated by Luke Leafgren. A coming-of-age novel set in 1990s Baghdad, full of friendship, fear and small acts of magic. The language is accessible, the chapters are short, and extracts work well for GCSE. Pair it with poetry about conflict and ordinary life.

2. The Queue by Basma Abdel Aziz, translated by Elisabeth Jaquette. A dystopian novel about a crowd waiting outside a mysterious government office. It is a natural companion to Orwell and Atwood at A-level, and it opens up discussions about bureaucracy, censorship and civic courage without spelling everything out.

3. The Open Door by Latifa al-Zayyat, translated by Marilyn Booth. A classic Egyptian coming-of-age novel about a young woman, nationalism and the gap between public ideals and private life. It is rich enough for A-level coursework and pairs well with postcolonial texts and modern drama.

4. The Days by Taha Hussein. The great Egyptian writer's memoir of childhood, blindness and education. Individual chapters are short and teachable; the whole book offers a gentle way into twentieth-century Arabic prose. Use selected chapters rather than the whole text for younger classes.

5. The Bleeding of the Stone by Ibrahim al-Koni, translated by May Jayyusi and Christopher Tingley. A spare, mythic novel about a desert herder, a rare animal and violence on the edge of the Sahara. It is ideal for A-level students interested in environment, folklore and the novel of ideas.

Practical notes for teachers and librarians

Choose for the classroom, not the quota. Read the whole book before you teach it. Check content warnings for violence, sexual content and political trauma. A short novel is not automatically easy; a difficult novel is not automatically unsuitable. Look for translations with useful introductions, and do not assume that a book written for adults will suit GCSE students just because it is short.

Frame the text as literature, not sociology. Students should not be asked to represent 'the Arab world' any more than a class reading Dickens is asked to represent all of England. Ask about narrative voice, imagery, structure, translation choices and the world the characters inhabit. Compare, but do not exoticise.

Use the translator's note. Translation is a visible craft. A short discussion of why a word was rendered one way and not another can be one of the most exciting lessons in the unit. It also gives students a language for talking about power, accuracy and style.

Pair with what is already there. AQA's power and conflict poetry, dystopian fiction, postcolonial writing, migration narratives and unseen prose all offer natural bridges. Librarians can build displays around themes rather than regions: borders, cities, memory, protest, family.

Make the library the second classroom. Stock a few copies, not one. Put Arabic literature in the general fiction section as well as the multilingual section. Include dual-language editions for younger readers. Invite students to request titles. A small, well-chosen shelf is more useful than a large, unread one.

The point is not to add another box to tick. It is to make the English curriculum a little more honest about the world it claims to describe. Arabic literature is not a niche add-on for specialist schools. It is part of the literary air that UK students already breathe, whether through news, music, food or friendships. The classroom should catch up.