But not everyone sees it that way. I can also picture a merchant from Al-Balad, maybe in his early 30s, shaking his head and calling the festival “rowdy,” a betrayal of the Islamic traditions that have shaped Saudi society for centuries. Sheikh Al-Sudais, known for his conservative views—like once blaming women’s behavior for a drought in 2006—stands as a symbol of that tradition. His silence on these cultural shifts feels deafening to some, who question how raves and concerts can coexist with the kingdom’s religious identity. I’ve heard voices invoking the Prophet Muhammad’s teachings, arguing that even sharing images of such events is a form of corruption. It’s a perspective that carries weight, rooted in a desire to preserve the values that give Saudi Arabia its soul.
What strikes me most is the contrast with other parts of the region. Take Turkmenistan, for example. I came across a story about a Turkish pop star who performed there recently, trading her usual bold outfits for a modest, traditional look to honor local customs. It made me think about the scrutiny women face, no matter where they are. In Turkmenistan, she covered up to fit in, but in Saudi Arabia, a performer’s sheer bodysuit sparks outrage. Women are criticized when they dress openly, and sometimes even when they cover up—can’t we just let them be? The double standard feels exhausting, and it’s a reminder of the broader struggle for agency in a world that’s changing faster than ever.
