One of the oldest surviving works of literature in the world is a Mesopotamian epic about friendship so intense it rivals any romance: Gilgamesh goes down into the underworld to save his friend Enkidu. Friendship, or al-sadaqa, stands out as a vital theme in Arabic fiction, often depicted as a bond characterized by loyalty, sacrifice, and mutual support, reflecting individual values and societal norms. The theme is frequently explored through experiences of betrayal, loss, and the yearning for belonging. From the adventurous tales of Sinbad and his cherished Yasamina to the deeper explorations of friendship in the works of Gibran Khalil Gibran, and more recently in Alān Badaāt Hayati (My Life Has Just Begun) by Sumer Shihada (Egypt: Dar al-Karma, 2025), which was longlisted for the International Prize for Arabic Fiction, the concept of al-sadiq (friend) unfolds as a rich and intricate notion, revealing multiple layers of meaning.
We invite you to share your heartfelt stories, reflections, and artistic expressions centered around the theme of friendship. Whether it’s a touching narrative, a thought-provoking essay, a poignant poem, or a vibrant piece of art, we want to hear about the bonds that have shaped your life and writing. Whether these connections are rooted in childhood, blossomed through shared experiences, or evolved in unexpected ways, your insights and creativity are valuable. Join us in celebrating the many facets of friendship and its profound impact on our journeys.
The Markaz Review seeks stories and essays, art and photography, music, short films and video that speak to the challenges and perhaps surprises of returning to the home that once was. Query the editors by September 10; copy deadline September 18, 2025. No manuscripts will be considered beyond that date.
Query the editors: editor@themarkaz.org
Please use DUOSUMA for submissions.
Nationality is a red-hot issue. The masked men and women of ICE in the US cast their net wide, from Hispanic Americans and undocumented Venezuelan migrants to Irish tourists who overstay their visas, and send them to decrepit detention centers in America’s MAGA-loving south. In Europe, too, nationality is a defining issue. The small boats filled with Kurds, Sudanese, Afghans, and others arrive along the UK coast during a summer of far-right riots in front of asylum seekers hotels. Where people come from and their nationalities have become a defining issue of a world in crisis where people on the move refuse to stop fleeing conflict, civil war, drought, and poverty.
When it comes to securing equal rights for all the people in a land, nationalism is an abject failure as Mahmoud Darwish writes in his poem “Passport”:
All the hearts of the people are my identity
So take away my passport!
More than half the Palestinians in the world remain stateless, and the Palestinians citizens of Israel do not enjoy the same rights as their Jewish counterparts. Their nationalism means inbuilt discrimination and lower life expectancies.
According to the Merriam Webster dictionary, the five aspects of nationalism include national character, loyalty and devotion to a nation; national status and membership to a particular nation; political independence or existence as a separate nation; and people with a common origin, tradition, and language and capable of forming or actually constituting a nation-state or an ethnic group, an element in a larger unit. However, the synonyms for nationality widen and enrich the word’s possibilities: ethnicity, race, family, clan, and kindred, to name a few. In the age of social media threatening, nationality no longer strictly refers to a country, it could mean religion, identity, or pure and simple guilt by association as seen by rightwing conspiracy theorist Laura Loomer’s successful campaign to stop badly wounded and starving Gazan children from receiving medical treatment in the US.
Nationality is the theme of The Markaz Review’s monthly 55, for November. The issue will explore in creative nonfiction, short stories, interviews, poetry, and art the vagaries of nationalism, citizenship lost and found, what it means to have more than one national identity or passport, and to have none. So, who, what, where is your tribe?
Query the editors: editor@themarkaz.org
Please use DUOSUMA for submissions.
The paradox is strikingly clear: the French word “noir” translates to “black,” yet with a slight alteration in pronunciation when adapted into Arabic, it becomes nawwar, meaning “that which radiates a great deal of light.” It is less a genre than a lens — a way of seeing the world through shadow and smoke, and every character is complicit in something. It’s where morality blurs, truth is slippery, and every choice cuts. It speaks in terse dialogue and silence alike, always circling questions of guilt, fate, desire, betrayal, corruption, fatalism, and the cost of survival. In noir, the darkness isn’t just around us — it’s within.
The world today increasingly feels absurd and nihilistic, resembling a dark noir narrative. Each morning, we’re confronted with unsettling images and videos that highlight the genocide in Gaza, a tragedy that has continued for two years, alongside the drawn-out conflict in Ukraine. Meanwhile, we read statements from right-wing leaders and politicians whose views are astonishingly extreme. What’s truly alarming is that it seems as though they have collectively lost their minds — like a sudden sneeze that spreads contagion. This is underscored by an avalanche of news regarding significant advancements in global armament, starting with drones capable of delivering lethal strikes from a distance, and showing no signs of stopping there. We are witnessing developments in this arena that have no parallels in any other humanitarian sector that values human life. This is accompanied by unchecked spending on budgets for potential future conflicts, in addition to the ongoing wars currently taking place.
All of this information comes to us through vibrant screens that we hold in our hands or set on our tables, delivering information (and disinformation) with remarkable accuracy, quality, and speed. As we navigate our daily lives, we often experience tragic events just moments after they occur, creating a sense that we are actually living through them ourselves. Nowadays, every disagreement escalates into a conflict, and many issues spiral into a tragedy. As a result, feelings of uncertainty and anxiety are on the rise, and polarization deepens each day. Many people now believe that the only way forward is through all-out war. Finally, we have the last figure to consider — the orange man. How can one truly grasp the threat posed by the deceiver in chief, the dangerous times over which he presides? This is the paradox. Everything else is dark, reminiscent of the noir we once saw in films and read about in novels, yet it’s presented to us through his radiant orange hair, pale white skin, and vivid red blood. We navigate a colorful, luminous noir every single day.
How do you perceive the world today? How do you wake up each morning and what thoughts run through your mind before you drift off to sleep? Is uncertainty steering your choices? Are there truly reasons to feel hopeful about tomorrow? We’re looking for work that sits in the murky spaces between right and wrong, that questions motive and morality, that understands the human condition isn’t black and white, but infinite shades of gray, and that unravels truth like a confession under a bare bulb.
Query the editors: editor@themarkaz.org
Please use DUOSUMA for submissions.
