Doha: The New House of Wisdom of the Middle East

By: Avraham Burg

Between stereotypes and reality, Qatar emerges as a space where tradition and modernity do not clash, but rather combine to create a new regional model. Doha offers a global arena for dialogue, cultural confidence, and an open Islam—an alternative that challenges the familiar dichotomies of our era.

It is not easy for an Israeli to reach Qatar these days. Not because of a complicated flight schedule, but because of the emotional baggage Israelis carry whenever encountering the Arab world in general, and Qatar in particular. The road to Qatar is paved with prejudices, misconceptions, and a deep sense of suspicion. In the West—and in Israel especially—people are used to viewing Qatar as the “funders of Hamas,” the ATM of terror organizations and antisemitism.

And so, you embark on the journey with a clenched stomach, expecting to meet a closed, fanatical, hostile, and suspicious religious society—at least as hostile as our own Israeli society. For Israelis, Qatar is the mother of all problems: from Netanyahu’s office to Hamas’s tunnels. A frightening and hostile political octopus.

Then real life arrives, and reality insists on showing how little we truly know about the people behind the images we have created. In Doha, the Israeli visitor discovers not the neglected backyard of the world, but one of its emerging, highly influential centers. A fascinating arena for a new kind of identity—complete modernity that is not Western at all, one that does not cancel its traditions in the face of Western power.

This is an alternative modernity—completely different, and far more intriguing than Israel’s inward-looking traditionalism. I know this is not the full picture; they too have less flattering sides. Who doesn’t? Israel with capital punishment and the crimes in Gaza? The United States with Guantanamo? China? Russia? Or perhaps Germany, where the Nazi right is rising? Only few nations have developed an alternative that tempers their darker sides as the Qataris have done.

Anyone who does not follow what is happening in our region will be surprised to find here a self-confident Islam. Unlike Iran or Jewish fundamentalists, Qatari society is not driven by insult or inferiority complexes, and does not rely on anti-Western sentiment to define itself by negation. It is a faith-based Islam rooted in a culture that knows its worth—connected to its traditions, unafraid of science, technology, or global norms. Quite the opposite. Hard to believe, but everyone here is religious and happily studies core subjects. Everyone speaks English, is professionally skilled, and cultivates culture and aesthetics. Doha showcases a model where one can be part of the world without being swallowed by it—religious and modern at the same time.

The twentieth century convinced us that progress must mean Western liberalism, and that tradition is a historical burden restricting growth. Qatar offers the opposite model. Its public sphere, breathtaking architecture, academia, media, and culture project an Arab identity full of confidence. The result is a moderate Islam that does not apologize for its existence, but presents itself as a strategic cultural resource for the entire world.

Once a year, Doha hosts the Doha Forum, an international conference bringing together world leaders, policymakers, business leaders, and activists to discuss the world’s most pressing challenges. This year’s theme was justice in practice—moving from statements to actual steps on inequality, conflict resolution, and human rights. Contrary to what was reported in the Israeli media, Israel was not the focus of the event, and the conference was not “against” her.

And because Doha is free from Israeli political bullying, the remarks made about us were rather accurate. Israel is a disruptive rather than a constructive force in the Middle East, and there is no reason not to say it. Not every criticism is antisemitism, and not every critic is Hitler’s brother. In fact, the few scattered criticisms voiced against Israel were far more restrained than the attacks Israel’s own coalition members make about the country and its institutions. (Sorry friends, but sometimes the sun shines elsewhere too. We are not the center of the universe, despite Israeli egocentrism.)

The Doha Forum reflects the Qatari worldview. Rooms packed with curious, knowledgeable people; bustling corridors; and informal encounters everywhere. Official “enemies” drink coffee and speak amicably. Everyone with everyone, without barriers. Representatives of rival powers, ministers from conflict zones, tech entrepreneurs and contemplative philosophers, statesmen and scientists, financiers and social activists—politicians from countries with no shared language converse and most importantly, listen.

In a world where discourse is becoming polarized and binary—for or against, us or them—Doha offers an in-between, mediating space that does not seek to dominate. A place that understands that dialogue is not weakness but a powerful tool. And in an era where power is no longer measured only by weapons or economic size, this is a crucial insight.

Scenes that once seemed impossible become routine here. And what dominates the three days of discussions is content—not propaganda, not provocation. Israelis like me ask questions to senior Iranian officials, past and present, and they answer. Real, honest dialogue takes place about the Jewish world after Gaza—a conversation impossible in contemporary Jerusalem. The Syrian president meets the global press and leading analysts. And in a fascinating panel, participants present principles for a new partnership against hatred of Jews and Muslims. Many believe that hate against Jews stems from Palestinian or Muslim incitement; yet both Jews and Muslims are threatened by the global rise of a Christian conservative, fanatical right. This is why Doha’s doctrine is fascinating: it outlines a completely different strategy. Instead of “Jews and Christians versus Muslims,” it proposes a coalition of the open versus the closed. There are open Jews and closed Jews. Open Muslims and closed Muslims. And interreligious and intercultural alliances must be formed along this new line.

Doha has made itself the compass point at the center of circles that do not meet anywhere else. In closed-door discussions, a new picture of the world emerges. It is no longer divided between East and West, but between open and closed. The open camp exists within every culture and religion—people who understand that flourishing requires encounter, curiosity, and collaboration. On the other side stands the closed camp of the fearful, the entrenched, and the fanatical. Doha has clearly chosen to join the open world. Qatar has become a state that exports not only oil, but mediation and prevention models.

After decades in which Europe served as America’s diplomatic arm, the Gulf states are now filling that role—diplomacy of mediation and sophistication, preventing wars by creating shared interests. Religious and economic stability that enables bridging between enemies rather than deepening hostilities. This is a model where moderate Islam is a functional bridge to the world, not a wall protecting against it.

Geopolitically, this is a far-reaching insight. The Doha encounter reveals a combination we were not familiar with: fully modern people unashamed of their traditions and unafraid of different ways of life. On Doha’s beautiful promenade, at sunrise, women fully covered from head to toe walk briskly alongside men and women wearing nothing but short tank tops. The mall stores are filled with every luxury imaginable—including items not exactly “appropriate” for Muslim buyers. So what?

If this is the new House of Wisdom, it is worth returning to

At one moment, a strange and moving feeling arose in me: perhaps we are witnessing a revival of an ancient institution—the House of Wisdom. The legendary intellectual center of classical Islam in ancient Baghdad. A meeting point where Jews, Christians, and Muslims once engaged in productive dialogue governed by one requirement: never to rely on any source of authority other than reason. One of the most glorious chapters in human history was written there. Doha is not trying to be New York or Paris. It offers a different wisdom—a global brain emerging from the Middle East. A place where tradition and modernity sit together at the same table, without suspicion. Because suspicion is neither logical nor useful.

Is it possible that in the future, when historians recount the early twenty-first century, they will identify this moment as the point at which the Middle East offered the world not only oil and conflict, but a profound idea challenging the dichotomies of past troubled centuries?

Perhaps this is the axis on which a renewed encounter between Judaism and Islam—between Jerusalem and Doha—can occur. An encounter of possibilities, rooted in the ability to imagine a reality where tradition and modernity are not enemies, but partners that nourish one another. Where faith is not a wall, but a bridge.

If this is the new House of Wisdom, it is worth returning to it. To learn from it a lesson in sobriety, humility, and openness. A lesson teaching us that the Middle East can be not only a stage for crises, but a source of inspiration for the entire world. Qatar is already there; the Emirates are with her; Saudi Arabia is on the way. Israel is very much not. One can only hope.