Planning for Intangible Cultural Heritage in Tourism: Challenges and Implications

Abstract

This empirical article is the first to consider tourism planning for tourism products based on intangible cultural heritage (ICH). It identifies two sets of factors that affect related tourism planning, the accessibility of ICH-based tourism products for visitor market(s), and the perceived appropriateness of ICH for use in tourism. The factors are derived using a qualitative, ethnographic method, implemented in the Qeshm Island Global Geopark in the South of Iran. Theoretical and practical implications address the requirements for tourism planners to extend the tourism planning arena, the integration of planning efforts for tourism and heritage preservation, and the need to involve stakeholders who co-create value from both tourism and heritage preservation perspectives. The impact of the article lies not only in its originality but also in its contributions to the literature on cultural (heritage) tourism as well as tourism planning.

Keywords

intangible cultural heritage tourism planning tourism management planning challenges local community cultural heritage

Introduction

The linkages between cultural heritage and tourism are as old as tourism itself, and cultural heritage is still one of the most powerful driving forces to induce travel (Hafstein, 2009; Kaminski, Benson, & Arnold, 2013). Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (1998, p. 151) suggests that heritage has the potential to transform locations into destinations and that “tourism makes them [the destinations] economically viable as exhibits of themselves.” Cultures comprise interdependent material and nonmaterial assets; in both the tourism industry as well as tourism studies, these two types of heritage are seen as accompanying each other and interlinking. Although the focus of promotion and consumption is clearly on tangible heritage in tourism destinations, intangible cultural heritage (ICH) products feature increasingly prominently as tourism products (Esfehani & Albrecht, 2016). Reasons for this disproportion are inherent in the nature of ICH, for example, in the difficulty of accurately describing, demonstrating or evaluating ICH (Arizpe & Amescua, 2013; Lixinski, 2013). As a consequence, visiting or experiencing ICH can be difficult. Experiencing the materiality of built heritage like, for example, a shrine, is straightforward. Perceiving the traditional knowledge required to build and appreciate the shrine, and its meaning in terms of local cultural values and related behavior patterns, however, is more difficult or, arguably, impossible for tourists unfamiliar with the local cultural context. This is particularly the case for tourists who usually have very limited to no knowledge of local cultural attributes associated with material heritage.

Despite the undoubted attraction of ICH for tourism, tourism research has been slow in exploring this niche. Indeed, “limited interest has been shown by academics in the relationship between tourism and intangible cultural heritage” (United Nations World Tourism Organization, 2012, p. 12). Certain aspects of the ICH–tourism relationship have been covered to some extent (du Cros & McKercher, 2014; Esfehani & Albrecht, 2016; López-Guzmán & Santa-Cruz, 2016; Sun, Wang, & Bu, 2017) but there is still a “lack of focus on what ICH does and what it can do” (Eoin & King, 2013, p. 654). Importantly, the scarcity of knowledge extends to the context of planning for ICH in tourism and managing related tourism products. For the context of urban heritage, for example, Petrova and Hristov (2016) argue that there have been few attempts from tourism planning and management to go beyond the material aspects of a building and to consider the qualities of a place and intangible aspects of heritage.

This article will address this gap by (a) showing that the provision of ICH-related products in a destination can be challenging in ways that are different from conventional tourism products, (b) identifying what factors can drive the emergence of these differences, and (c) proposing tourism planning and management approaches that consider the specific characteristics of ICH in tourism products. In order to address these aims, the article draws on the empirical work outlined in the “Method” section as well as three strands of literature: ICH, tourism planning in a general sense, and planning specific to heritage tourism and ICH in tourism.

Intangible Cultural Heritage (General and in Tourism)

After almost three decades of international negotiations on the different possible paths of protecting traditions and folk culture, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) meeting in Paris in 2003 adopted the Convention for Safeguarding Intangible Cultural Heritage (Alivizatou, 2016). This convention introduced a new category of cultural heritage to shift the emphasis from the Western-based way of interpreting and exploring cultures (Abungu, 2012) which mainly focuses on the materiality of heritage to a holistic view that incorporates living sociocultural practices, knowledge, and events that shape the platform of collective identity and memory of society (Terrio, 2016).

According to the Convention for Safeguarding Intangible Cultural Heritage, ICH manifests in five different domains: (a) oral traditions and expressions including language as a vehicle of intangible cultural heritage; (b) performing arts; (c) social practices, ritual, and festive events; (d) knowledge and practices concerning nature and the universe; and (e) traditional craftsmanship (UNESCO, 2003). These five domains include a wide range of cultural elements with a focus on those tightly linked to everyday life (Arizpe & Amescua, 2013). Communities perform ICH in response to their constant interactions with their surrounding environment, and according to their historical conditions of existence (UNESCO, 2003). ICH is thus interactive, dynamic, inclusive, and cohesive (Davis & Stefano, 2016; Kato, 2006), presenting characteristics that Alivizatou (2016, p. 35) sees in great contrast to “the more static nature” of physical heritage.

In reality, though, the boundary between tangible and intangible heritage is not that clearly marked (Taylor, 2016). For example, Byrne (2008) believes that ICH provides important contextual information for the understanding and interpretation of tangible heritage. Tangible cultural heritage, therefore, incorporates some of the values associated with ICH, though “not all intangible heritage necessarily has tangible feature[s]” (Kearney, 2009, p. 210). Article 2.1 of the 2003 UNESCO Convention for Safeguarding Intangible Cultural Heritage acknowledges these linkages between tangible and intangible cultural heritage in the definition of ICH as the “practices, representations, expressions, knowledge and skills (e.g., musical instruments and artworks) present in a culture,” along with “instruments, objects, artifacts and cultural spaces associated with [it]” (UNESCO, 2003).

Culinary heritage, as well as the (performing) arts, are good examples of ICH for the purposes of this article, not least as both often feature as important components of tourism products. Due to the relative novelty of ICH use in tourism, little is known on how to suitably plan for ICH-based tourism products and related destination development. The following sections provide an overview of tourism planning in general as well as specific to cultural and heritage tourism, the topic areas closest to ICH under consideration here.

Planning for Tourism

Planning is generally viewed as a rational process that entails the envisaging of a desirable future state, and the devising and implementation of steps to attain that state. The planning process insofar it relates to tourism thus entails complex negotiations of decisions and actions pertaining to land and infrastructure use, stakeholder interactions, (tourism) entrepreneurial activity, (local) markets and marketing, among others (Hall, 2000). Once the relevant planning steps are developed, exercising a top-down approach to plan implementation is generally seen as the model option for achieving planning success (Lai, Li, & Feng, 2006). The issues described in the following sections show, however, that the practice is seldom this straightforward.

Each planning environment has a unique grouping of actors; as Murphy and Murphy (2004, p. 189) state, “researchers have identified a consistent handful of stakeholder candidates, but not always the same groups.” Tourism planning situations where the stakeholders operate across various levels of government (e.g., local, regional, and national), as is frequently the case, are particularly, challenging as the knowledge, commitment, the degree of participation, and actions of involved actors are critical determinants of planning outcomes (Albrecht, 2010). The local community participation in tourism planning has been generally acknowledged but whether this refers to community representatives, local government, or tourism agencies is debatable and depends on the administrative and organizational setup of the destination in question. These matters are relevant here as the study setting incorporates stakeholders with varying degrees of involvement in tourism, and different degrees of knowledge about tourism and related business.

The approach of local governments toward tourism development and the degree to which they facilitate community involvement are often critical. Indeed, both financial backing and the ability to exercise influence are factors that affect the potential involvement of community stakeholders (Joppe, 1996). Horn and Simmons (2006) in their study on community perspective and destination management in New Zealand, outline an importance factor in progressing planning goals. This factor indicates the degree of the residents’ recognition of their leading role in a destination tourism development.

This is another relevant factor for the context of the Qeshm Island Global Geopark (QIGG) where the extent to which the different actors can exercise power in the tourism setting varies strongly. A further compounding factor is that tourism planning is often engaged in by actors who do not have much or any previous knowledge in tourism or tourism management. Locals who may have chosen to engage in tourism to broaden their economic activities may find themselves involved in an industry completely new to them; local administrators may have much experience in infrastructure or land use planning but tourism as a cross-sectoral activity may be entirely unfamiliar. Indeed, it becomes evident that under certain circumstances, planning is by no means a rationally driven, goal-oriented, administrative activity but rather subjective, complex, value-laden, and power-driven (Hall, 2000). The next section will consider tourism-related planning in the context of heritage resources.

Planning in the Context of Heritage Tourism, Geoparks, and Ich

Like many (tourism) resources, the heritage resource itself is considered to be a public good (Kerr, 2003; Nuryanti, 1996) and, as a result, the public sector is partly or fully responsible for the provision and management of all infrastructure and the planning thereof. Other stakeholders involved include representatives from the private and third sectors. Planning for heritage requires not only care and expertise but also ongoing funding. With general reductions in public funding, heritage managers increasingly turn to visitation and tourism as potential finance options. This strategy is potentially risky. If heritage managers cannot economically sustain sites, these are at risk of degradation; however, if the development is exploitative, if there is too much visitation, or if visitor impacts are too detrimental, sites may be at even worse risk. It is therefore remarkable that tourism is often overlooked in heritage management. Garrod and Fyall (2000; also McKercher & du Cros, 2008) argue that heritage managers primarily focus on preservation at the site-level, stating that

This [approach] implies a heritage tourism mission that is primarily one of caring for the property and maintaining it in as pristine a state as possible, with issues such as financial solvency and public access entering in the decision-making process only as secondary considerations. (Garrod & Fyall, 2000, p. 684)

McKercher (2001) illustrates the complexity associated with planning for heritage tourism by an opposite example, the case of a cultural heritage riverboat attraction where tourism interest was misjudged and public subsidies needed to be paid to maintain the heritage attraction.

Planning, of course, is not neutral toward the heritage resource it addresses. The way that planning envisages the (future) heritage resource significantly affects possible tourism uses and, by implication, visitor perceptions of the site, marketing opportunities (Boyd & Timothy, 2006), and resultant economic outcomes (Leask, 2010). This underlying relationship is particularly relevant to the type of heritage resource(s) addressed in this article, which is a geopark (see the “Study Area” section). Geoparks explicitly use both natural and cultural resources, and the resulting tourism opportunities reflect the challenges associated with a wide range of issues and challenges (including but not limited to visitor impacts of various kinds, challenges associated with stakeholder management, visitor management and visitor flow, among others (Dowling & Newsome, 2006; Mason, 2003). Planning for geoparks requires the simultaneous acknowledgment of the extrinsic values of tourism and the intrinsic values of heritage as both rely on the very same resources (Liu & Halim, 2011). Indeed, tourism and heritage management are thus mutually interdependent, connected by the planning efforts addressing both (Liu & Halim, 2011). Based on their work in Langkawi, Malaysia, Liu and Halim (2011) therefore suggest that there should be one policy (document) addressing simultaneously both (sustainable) tourism development and heritage preservation.

As geoparks feature both tangible and intangible heritage, all heritage management and related planning addresses both at the same time. This is an additional layer of complexity, after all, there is little knowledge on how ICH can, and whether it even should, feature in planning and management. Indeed, the question of whether ICH components like local traditions, oral history, and such like be subjected to planning efforts at all is relevant and touches on epistemological, moral and ethical issues. From a tourism perspective and for the purposes of this article it is necessary at least to incorporate ICH as a destination pull factor, something that attracts visitors to a destination. As the presence of ICH thus increases pressure on the destination, it must be factored into any tourism-related planning. For example, Sammells (2016) suggests that ICH creates new spaces of engagement with tourists, and the resulting host–guest relationships and social activities need to be carefully assessed as they potentially require planning and management that safeguards the ICH resource.

The only global instrument with substantial influence on ICH policies and practices is currently the 2003 UNESCO Convention for Safeguarding Intangible Cultural Heritage. While the document suggests prioritizing the preservation of ICH elements, it lacks explicit attention to the interrelationships between ICH and tourism (Aykan, 2013). As ICH increasingly features in tourism products, it is surprising that the document has not yet been updated to that effect. The remainder of this article addresses this gap using empirical evidence from Qeshm Island Global Geopark, Iran.

Study Area

The empirical data that form the basis of this article were collected in the QIGG in the South of Iran. The QIGG is the first recognized geopark in the Middle-East. A geopark is

a geographical area where geological heritage sites are part of a holistic concept of protection, education, and sustainable development. [ . . . ] The synergy between geodiversity, biodiversity, and culture, in addition to both tangible and non-tangible heritage are such that non-geological themes must be highlighted as an integral part of each Geopark, especially when their importance in relation to landscape and geology can be demonstrated to the visitors. For this reason, it is necessary to also include and highlight sites of ecological, archaeological, historical and cultural value within each Geopark. In many societies, natural, cultural and social history are inextricably linked and cannot be separated. (UNESCO Division of Ecological and Earth Sciences, 2010, p. 3)

In accordance with the geopark description above, the QIGG features protected landscapes as well as ICH in the form of local traditional lifestyles. Today, the local community presents the island as an iconic tourism destination in Iran. Tourism in the QIGG is authorized by the governmental organization”Qeshm Free Zone.” Two subinstitutional departments, namely the “Cultural Heritage, Handicrafts, and Tourism Office” and the “Qeshm Island Global Geopark Office” are factually in charge of planning, funding, and managing tourism on the island. The QIGG General Tourism Plan emphasizes the need for sustainable development of the tourism industry on the island (QIGG, 2008, 2016).

Again, in line with the stated aims of geoparks noted above, sustainable development is operationalized as development that aligns with community needs and that assumes locals’ ownership of their heritage. Living local culture thus receives significant consideration in tourism planning and policy making. There is evidence that the related policy is translated into planning projects, for example, there are active projects aiming to preserve the traditional lifestyle and its use for tourism purposes. One example is a cooperative project between regional stakeholders such as communities and businesses and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). This project has been running since 2013; it aims to preserve and revitalize the old traditional embroidery technique and related knowledge by increasing local women’s involvement in using the technique and allowing for opportunities to sell their products to tourists. In doing so, the project does not only preserve ICH, it also promotes locals’ livelihood by broadening tourism-related offerings on the island (UNDP, 2013).

Tourism is a recent phenomenon on Qeshm Island. Even though visitation has increased over the past two decades, tourism has become a noticeable presence only from 2008 onward, after large areas of the island were declared a UNESCO Global Geopark for the first time.

Method

This article is the result of a part of a larger qualitative study, on the roles and manifestations of ICH in tourism in a destination. Part of the study addressed planning in the destination. As tourism planning is best understood by examining real-life experiences grounded in detailed accounts of the context (Higgins-Desbiolles, 2018), the qualitative ethnographic approach used enables the researchers to fully explore participants’ perspectives on the subject (Creswell, 2007).

The first author has spent 6 months in the QIGG to conduct an extended ethnography which provided her with opportunities to watch, to listen, and to collect any relevant real-life information (Hammersley, 1995). A multimethod approach comprising 12 qualitative semistructured in-depth interviews, informal conversations, and observation was applied between December 2014 and March 2015. Five interview participants were local officials (codes: LO:x) and seven represented small tourism businesses owners (codes: STBO:x) (see Table 1). Interview participants had to be born and growing up on the island to confirm their familiarity with the location, its heritage, and implications for business. At the time of conducting this study, all participants were involved in local and/or regional tourism planning either as officials or representatives of the private sector collaborating or liaising with a government body.

Table 1

Overview of Research Participants

	No.	Age (Years)/Gender	Educational Level	Occupation
Local officials (LO:x)	1	45/Male	University	Government employee
	2	47/Male	University	Government employee
	3	35/Female	University	Government employee
	4	48/Male	University	Government employee
	5	45/Female	University	Government employee
Small tourism	1	34/Male	High school	Boat skipper (mangrove guide)
Business owners	2	33/Male	High school	Traditional restaurant owner
(STBO:x)	3	44/Female	University	Handicraft maker
	4	25/Male	University	Local guide
	5	60/Male	High school	Guesthouse owner
	6	67/Male	High school	Village local guide
	7	63/Male	High school	Traditional restaurant owner

It is noteworthy that none of the representatives of the private sector works full-time in their business roles. This is typical for employment in the QIGG. Purposive sampling was used to identify possible interview participants whose background, knowledge, and work experience suggest that they were sufficiently involved and experienced to address ICH tourism planning. The purposive sampling was implemented as follows: The manager of the QIGG was asked to recommend research participants. The central office of the QIGG has 10 employees, of whom 5 have the background and expertise to be included as research participants. At the time of conducting the research, the total number of STBOs who collaborated with the QIGG was low. Some of them, like the owner of the first traditional guesthouse on the island or the local woman in charge of the only handicrafts workshop, were well known. The purposive sampling was therefore based on advice from the QIGG management as well as the first author’s previous experience with the tourism context on the island.

All semistructured in-depth interviews explicitly addressed the theme of planning and policy to understand the context of and reasons for any challenges in ICH in tourism and related planning and management. Participants were, for example, asked to identify and explain any challenging or problematic situations that they have encountered in their roles as government or business representatives to develop planning for ICH-based tourism.

The interviews lasted between 1 and 1.5 hours. Interviews with local officials were often shorter due to their tight schedules during workdays. Talking with STBOs on the other hand often took longer as they tended to have more free time. Generally speaking, all participants were very positive about contributing to this research as it was partly focused on their homeland and cultural heritage as well as providing an opportunity to discuss tourism and tourism development in relation to cultural issues.

Consistent with the nature of ethnographic research, information obtained through many informal, social conversations substantially added to the researchers’ understanding as well as to the richness of the final data. Such informal conversations could happen at any time during the 6-month fieldwork period; For instance, talking to local women in the guesthouse where the first author lived for 6 months meant friendly conversations about how they were able to create opportunities to present their knowledge on local crafts and traditional cuisine to tourists. To ensure that all information was recorded, the first author took notes during and after such conversations.

Also, the method of observation as the “key element of ethnography research” (Madden, 2010, p. 100) was applied to observe the delivery process of ICH-tourism products in four different known touristic sites in the QIGG. These four locations were selected with regard to their association with different elements of ICH that are shared with visitors. Being Persian herself, the first author was in a unique position to perceive and interpret nuances of the conversations and interactions of hosts and guests, as well as being able to understand and assess the provision of the tourism product as an expert in the field. Detailed notes were taken during each observations day and revised carefully after that. Specifically, the observation was used to assess what elements of ICH were used in tourism, in which ways and to what extent.

The information obtained in informal conversations and during observation enriched the data by revealing additional aspects of ICH as well as tourists’ interaction with ICH, which were not mentioned directly or specifically raised in the interviews. As advocated by Holliday (2002) as a means of creating a dialogue between the researcher and the research setting, the first author spent some time each day on writing and cross-checking detailed notes.

Thematic Network Analysis, an increasingly widespread tool for qualitative data analysis in tourism and hospitality (Esfehani & Walters 2018), was used. Thematic network analysis involves a number of steps, including familiarization with the raw data, generation of codes, and exploration of themes, followed by analysis of the themes to identify logical relationships and interpretations (Walters, 2016). The technique was implemented by verbatim transcribing the interviews, and adding all notes pertaining to the informal conversations and the observation to the body of data. Then, interview transcriptions were compared and cross-checked with the informal conversation and observation data several times. This process has already helped and initiated the familiarization with the data which was the next step.

To facilitate familiarization with the data and obtain a holistic overview, all data were read multiple times with the aim of identifying and creating deeper level themes rather than surface-level codes (Bryman, 2004; Petrova & Hristov, 2016). Themes were formed by bringing together fragments of data that share common subject matters or ideas. It is noteworthy that thematic network analysis was particularly suitable to analyzing data that were collected using multiple methods. With its aim to identify logical relationships within the data, thematic network analysis has allowed the researchers to transcend any subject focus that may have been present in the data from one method and focus on the “big picture” in order to identify relationships between the codes and formalize the final themes. The thus conducted data analysis brought up two themes that are significant for planners dealing with ICH-based tourism. First, the accessibility of ICH, exploring the possible conflicts between tourism and heritage preservation, and second, a consideration of whether all aspects of ICH are appropriate in tourism.

It is important to consider any possible implications of the approach used. In this case, the qualitative ethnographic approach means that ICH is operationalized as whatever the community/ interviewees think ICH is. This may differ slightly from any formal definitions provided above. It may, for example, include ICH elements like some festivals which, as Getz (2012, p. 54) notes “have been initially created for their instrumentalist values that there is no longer an authentic reflection of the community or culture, but of development policy.” This only serves to strengthen the point that there is a wide variety of ICH elements included in the operationalization of ICH here, which represent not only a strong connection to their original sociocultural context but also a considerable potential to be planned and promoted in tourism as a cultural product.

The last segment of the method section addresses rigor and trustworthiness in this study. The concept of rigor is conventionally associated with quantitative research, a fact that is frequently criticized (Davies & Dodd, 2002; Golafshani, 2003; Padgett, 2016; Stenbacka, 2001). Rigor and trustworthiness in qualitative research are assessed by different means, and this study has used triangulation and prolonged engagement to ensure scholarly rigor.

Creswell and Miller (2000, p. 126) define triangulation as “a validity procedure where researchers search for convergence among different sources of information to form themes or categories in a study.” Our use of multiple methods including interviews, informal conversations, and observation is thus an important means by which rigor was ensured (Golafshani, 2003). Furthermore, the sources of information for the formal interviews included two groups with different perspectives: local officials and business owners in the QIGG. In a similar vein, the observation focused on four different touristic sites across the island. Employing several methods yielding data from a variety of relevant participants and sites has led to a valid, reliable and diverse construction of realities and understandings of the research focus (Golafshani, 2003).

Prolonged involvement and persistent observation are proposed as effective means by which to establish rigor (Long & Johnson, 2000). Spending a significant amount of time in the field, a typical characteristic of ethnography research, allows the researcher to gain familiarity with the social context, to establish trust, and to identify any possible challenges. Even more important, persistent observation enables the researcher “to identify those characteristics and elements in the situation that are most relevant to the problem or issue being pursued and to focus on them in more detail” (Guba & Lincoln, 1989, p. 237). We therefore argue that the 6-month fieldwork stay in the QIGG was a successful way to not only collect the aforementioned data but to also ensure its credibility.

Accessibility of Ich as a Basis for Tourism

It is in the nature of ICH to be practiced in everyday life, and to be an inclusive part thereof. As such, ICH components evolve constantly. The omnipresence of ICH for local populations does not mean, however, that these cultural assets are always available and accessible for tourism. It is therefore not surprising that the accessibility of ICH resources emerged as one of the themes indicating that there are related planning challenges. For example, the ICH temporal and spatial dependency affecting cultural and spiritual beliefs, which require that some features of ICH are practiced and performed only at a specific period and/or in a specific place, mean that these are difficult to transfer into tourism products in a conventional sense. The periodicity of certain events occurring challenges traditional notions of tourism product development and offering on the supply side, and of consumption on the demand side. This research identifies similar issues; 8 out of the 12 participants brought up accessibility as a supply issue that adds difficulty to tourism planning. This section addresses the Nowruz Sayyad festival as an example of an ICH element that is challenging to include in local and regional tourism planning.

Nowruz Sayyad is celebrated by the QIGG local communities in mid-summer when the temperature is hot and there is high humidity. Women and men from different villages contribute to this whole day collective cultural event by helping to set up the venue, contributing food, music and dance groups, and attending the prayer ceremony at sunset.

As a part of the tourism development plan, the festival has been promoted widely in the national media as an attractive and unique cultural event. Although, the festival increasingly hosts nonlocals, officials and event organizers are not satisfied with the number of visitors.

The first author had the opportunity to attend and observe this festival, and she found that the mid-summer heat in this part of Iran must be extremely tough for nonlocals who are not used to the island. Interviewees confirmed that the local climate appears to present a significant barrier to outsiders accessing this festival. Locals believe that although outsiders might be interested in attending the festival due to its representation of a vibrant and unique cultural environment, they would be prevented to do so by the climate (“[ . . . ] people miss this amazing festival only because the summer weather is not bearable for the majority of non-locals” [STBO:1]). An exacerbating factor is the fact that although Nowruz Sayyad could act as a fundamental tourism marketing tool (Higgins-Desbiolles, 2018), its seasonal aspect even deters tourism operators: “Tour operators are not willing to work on the island in low season [summer] when Nowruz Sayyad takes place” (LO:5). Interviewees explained how some tourism operators even requested from officials to change the timing of the Nowruz Sayyad festival or, at least, hold an alternative festival in winter where the festival proceedings could be reperformed. This is significant, and it has different implications. First, if implemented, the local heritage would be artificially changed for commercial reasons, certainly an undesirable event as far as heritage preservation goes (e.g., Staiff & Bushell, 2013; Teo & Yeoh, 1997). Second, again if implemented, such planning for tourism would inevitably put into jeopardy and indeed undermine the very authenticity that any visitors would come to experience (Rodzi, Zaki, & Subli, 2013). Assessing how “[t]raditional festivals are increasingly commodified and contemporary festivals may draw upon some local heritage to gain acceptance,” Ma and Lew (2012, p. 19) suggest that “[ . . . ] maintain[ing . . . ] heritage authenticity, requires maintaining an acceptable level of congruence between the tourists’ expectations and an event’s time and place origins” (p. 15).

From a conceptual perspective, this example confirms the perceptible divide between planning for tourism and heritage planning which aims at preservation. In the case of the Nowruz Sayyad festival on QIGG, the festival organizers and practitioners resisted any suggestions, and the festival timing has not been changed. They ultimately subscribed to the belief that “according to the traditional fishing calendar, the correct time for holding this festival is exactly in the middle of summer” (STBO:2). One tourism business owner states that

Our oral tradition tells us mid-summer is a specific day when all rivers strive to reach the sea [Persian Gulf], and it is the day when the sea rests. . . . In this day we pray to God and thank God for giving us the uncountable bless from the sea. (STBO:2)

A different strategy was proposed a few years ago when the festival was to be held indoors in order to escape the forbidding climate. However, it was soon realized that this strategy was infeasible as, based on traditional beliefs, “this festival must be held on the beach close to the sea because it is all about valuing water and respecting all aquatic creatures” (STBO:4). Indeed, altering the time or the place of this festival to suit tourists would threaten its core sociocultural meaning:

It is the way Nowruz Sayyad has been inherited from our forefathers, and we like to deliver it to our children the way that it is . . . what we have after changing the time of this festival won’t be Nowruz Sayyad anymore. (STBO:4)

Technically Nowruz Sayyad [festival] is the biggest festival and in my opinion the most attractive event on the island. If we manage to re-perform it during high season, it will surely become a great economic driver on the island . . . but I always wonder if tourists would like to visit a fake cultural heritage? (LO:1)

Locals in Qeshm Island are welcoming and open-minded about developing heritage tourism in their homeland. They are also very sensitive about a few parts of their traditions like Nowruz Sayyad [festival] . . . We know that no tourism strategy would success without their [local community] collaboration. (LO:3)

Inherent in the above quotes is the interconnection between the two concepts of time and place, coupled with the notion of heritage authenticity. Addressing the issues around the commodification of heritage is inevitable for planners and policy makers dealing with ICH-based tourism and related products. While the stakeholders in the example shown here have decided to prioritize their heritage event over tourism, it appears that elsewhere ICH transformation is seen as less problematic, unavoidable, or sometimes even reasonable. Taking such a contrary position, Eoin and King (2013) suggest that ICH even requires a certain degree of commodification to be accessible as a tourism product. More recent, in her exploration of new approaches to heritage authenticity, Alivizatou (2016, p. 16) discusses the need for more “fluid and flexible understanding of culture, heritage and tradition.” Looking at modern preservationism she suggests “the idea of going beyond concepts of decay and loss and engage with cultural change as a new heritage value” (Alivizatou, 2016, p. 16).

While perfectly acceptable as conceptual standpoints, these perspectives pose difficulty in planning practice. For example, there are no indicators or measures to monitor and evaluate heritage modification, and to gauge the degree to which (generally irreparable) commodification may be reasonable in using ICH for tourism. As a result, concerns over the dangers of overcommodification of ICH in tourism exist (Lixinski, 2013; Pietrobruno, 2009), and they are likely to remain for the foreseeable future. To borrow from McCannell (1973), if overcommodification happens it destroys the authenticity of cultural aspects of a community not only for the locals but also for any visitor who might otherwise have been attracted.

The planning challenges arising from the catch-22 between tourism development and heritage preservation are also illustrated by the example of Nowruz Sayyad explained in this section. There is no doubt that the cultural significance of the festival gives rise to tourism product development issues related to “time” and “place” of ICH being present and visible. It is therefore noteworthy that local tourism planners do not appear to pressure the community into accommodating the travel season and visitor preferences into their cultural calendar. Indeed, five out of the seven local officials included in this research have openly rejected modifications to the festival. This may also reflect the decision to have mostly local officials in charge of decisions related to local heritage in tourism, rather than outsiders. Interviewee LO:2 stated that transforming heritage into a commercial tourism product has never been an option in any tourism planning objectives. Rather, “communication with the local community to discuss any possible solution and their agreement in taking any action due to their heritage is of crucial importance” (LO:2). The temporal and spatial dependency of ICH in the form of Nowruz Sayyad is thus acknowledged, and the consequence in the form of less tourism development is accepted.

This example thus demonstrates three distinctive challenges for planners who negotiate ICH preservation and tourism development: First, the temporal and spatial dependency of ICH introduces a new, different type of seasonality. Conventional markers of seasonality (like the weather) cannot necessarily be taken into consideration in promoting ICH for tourism. Second, authenticity is key as the heritage event is still first and foremost for the community; the current (tourism) planning in place suggests that visitors are not prioritized. Third, in the example shown here, community perspectives and community negotiations were a critical part of the decision-making process. This is likely to be a common feature of planning for ICH in tourism as ICH-based tourism is inherently dependent on community input and interactions. It is important to note that there appeared no difference in perceptions and responses between the community in general and local tourism operators. Although prioritization of heritage is sometimes seen as a constraint on entrepreneurial operations and development (Suntikul & Jachna, 2013), this does not appear to be the case in the QIGG.

Appropriateness of Ich as a Tourism Product

This section explores the appropriateness of ICH elements as potential tourism product components, with specific reference to tourism planning implications. It demonstrates that there is some ICH that local communities do not wish to share for a variety of reasons. As interviewee STBO:2 suggests “Some ICH features of the local community in Qeshm Island are better not to be introduced in tourism.” He is referring to Jen-giri, the Persian equivalent of exorcism, “a custom of expelling the evil spirit from the body of a person who is suffering from a chronic disease” (LO:2). Although Islam, as the dominant religion of the island, rejects Jen-giri as it is considered a sin, there are residents, especially among elders, who practice it in the QIGG.

The analysis of the primary data suggests that there is disagreement among stakeholders on whether Jen-giri was a potential avenue into dark tourism offerings on the QIGG. There is some visitor interest in the ritual; interviewee STBO:6, an experienced local guide with more than 10 years of experience in guiding domestic and international tourists, states that “tourists ask different questions because they are simply curious to know about this odd ritual.” According to local official LO:6, though, “tourists [ . . . ] rarely request to attend the ritual in person.” Tourism planners and policy makers in the QIGG are aware that some destinations offer exorcism-related experiences (see, e.g., Gentry, 2007; Hong-yan, 2008). As such, Jen-giri does undoubtedly carry potential to be planned and promoted as a dark tourism product.

As with the example of the festival Nowruz Sayyad explained above, the local communities hold strong views about the use of Jen-giri, and they chose not to share this aspect of their ICH:

We think that some parts of traditional beliefs and customs are better not to be applied in tourism, as they do not present a good image of our old and rich culture. . . . Jen-giri is one of them . . . it is a scary ritual which is not suitable for many tourists. (LO:1)

A local guide further believes that Jen-giri “leaves negative impacts on tourism development on QIGG” (STBO:4). Overall, 8 of the 12 interviewees have raised concerns about the challenges of Jen-giri as a possible tourism component. One local official thinks that locals rarely talk about Jen-giri among themselves as it reflects a “shallow” (STBO:1) and “only small part of their culture” (LO:3), and, with regard to tourism, that “it shows the visitors neither a rational nor the pleasant aspect of local heritage” (LO:3). It is further noteworthy that even those research participants who were generally in favor of promoting the QIGG as a dark tourism destination were uncertain with regard to the size of the related market niche. Considering “the wide variety of other attractive natural and cultural heritage on the island” (STBO:12), tourism decision makers are unsure of the possible demand for experiencing a ritual like Jen-giri.

Overall then, despite some visitor interest, there is no interest in promoting Jen-giri due to, first, varying perceptions of the custom, and second, fears that tourists might be put off as the island would be presented in a questionable light. This lack of community support has, probably rightly, been identified as the most influential factor in the lack of progress toward promoting dark tourism on the island. As STBO:12 states, customs like exorcism are “not proper to be offered to strangers [tourists].” STBO:3 agrees, stating that “I think presenting such a stupid, superstitious custom doesn’t make sense while there is an abundance of meaningful behaviors and interesting [cultural] heritage in the island.” Promoting and investing into dark tourism in the QIGG, therefore, appears risky and uncertain, and tourism planners have decided to pay heed to local communities and officials. So while there is a broad range of ICH features that can potentially form part of a tourism product, their appropriateness and perceptions thereof vary from case to case based on the sociocultural characteristics of each (destination) community as well as on the related visitor market characteristics. The festival discussed earlier, associated with more mainstream ICH features like local traditional practices and food, is noncontroversial in terms of its content. This example shows that ICH features pertaining to religion or particular cultural behaviors may indeed be controversial, thus, emphasizing a need for planning any related tourism products. Such planning for ICH-based tourism needs to consider (a) local perceptions of the suitability of potential ICH-based products; (b) where such facts are known or can be anticipated, perspectives on the size and availability of potential target markets; and (c) implications on the destination image, where this is deemed necessary.

Discussion and Conclusion

This article aims to contribute to a better understanding of planning and management on ICH in tourism. It emphasizes and builds on the inherent dependency of ICH on the custodial community. The critical importance of not only formal community participation in planning processes but a constant acknowledgment of and attention to community voices in and around ICH-based tourism negotiations and planning is demonstrated.

Tourism planning processes must view and address ICH differently than tangible heritage in tourism throughout their duration. While the need to involve community into the designation of ICH-based cultural heritage areas is already acknowledged (Deacon & Smeets, 2013), this article demonstrates that similar standards apply in planning for ICH-based tourism. The two examples used in this article suggest that relevant local knowledge is important in the preparation of ICH-based tourism (products). While it may be possible to gain such knowledge through preplanning basic research, community involvement that transcends formal participation processes is necessary where ICH in tourism is concerned. The example of Nowruz Sayyad has shown that local community views are powerful, even when there is no formal participation process (as with, for example, the preparation of a local tourism strategy document). From a planning perspective for ICH-based tourism this is doubly significant: First, of course, integration of all stakeholders’ perspectives is reemphasized, but second, it must be noted that tourism strategies and projects have failed where local hosts and operators were excluded (Albrecht, 2010). Horn and Simmons’s (2006) findings from the New Zealand tourism planning context thus apply to ICH-based tourism: The degree to which residents perceive to be in control of tourism development is a significant factor in achieving planning success.

The above evidence suggests that locals should drive any planning for ICH-based tourism. Such a planning approach allows capacity to embody and express the sociocultural climate of the custodial society in a locale engaging in ICH-based tourism; it can take into account traditions as well as value systems. Dredge and Jamal (2015) believe that planning is a socially constructed concept which is highly context-dependent, and such a view of planning is much more appropriate to the planning situation described here than what the majority of the planning literature implies. The example of Jen-giri goes further, it suggests that planning approaches for ICH-based tourism must transcend common societal sensitivity about some aspects of tradition, such as religious beliefs, and instead incorporate the capacity to coordinate and balance differing, equally valid views within the local community and additional stakeholders like tourism planners and managers, among others. Liu and Halim (2011) have suggested that there should be one combined policy (document) that simultaneously addresses tourism development and heritage preservation. This article builds on their recommendation by positing tourism planning for ICH-based tourism as a set of localized, flexible, and creative tourism planning interventions that comply with the local cultural context. Such an approach would then not only allow for the preservation of ICH but can also act as a motivator for local custodians to offer ICH as tourism product(s), in the full knowledge that mechanisms to safeguard its integrity are in place and functional. Tourism development objectives, on the other hand, can be aspired to and reached as their attainment is aided by a generally supportive community.

This article contributes to the literature on heritage tourism as well as tourism planning. While the importance of the local and community are acknowledged in both contexts, the focus on community aspects as deliberate parts of the tourism products is new. Specific implications of ICH-based tourism for the tourism planning literature include the challenging of conventional approaches to seasonality as well as potential target markets and destination image. The locals’ prioritization of some heritage for the inclusion in ICH-based tourism suggests not the only concern for their local image and reputation but also for the authenticity of their cultural heritage. These aspects should generally be considered in the management of cultural heritage and the negotiation of any commercial use thereof (Prangnell, Ross, & Coghill, 2010), but in a commercial setting like tourism with a multitude of changing stakeholders and often unpredictable markets, they may present as particularly challenging.

The main practical contributions of this study are threefold. First, the need for planners in ICH-based tourism to detect possible planning challenges in unexpected places, that is, outside the “usual” planning arena and group of stakeholders, is identified and emphasized. Only then can community trust in the planning processes be retained and a future successful relationship be aspired to. Such planning processes are likely more complex and of longer duration, and due to an increased number of stakeholders they may also be more expensive. They may, on the other hand, result in an expansion of the destination’s tourism product base. Second, integration of planning efforts for tourism and heritage preservation can not only streamline related processes, it can also ascertain a fair representation of each set of, potentially conflicting, values. The planning implications are comparable to those mentioned above. While additional efforts on the part of the planners and locals are needed, they are likely to pay off for the whole destination. Third, and importantly for the case in question, it needs to be noted that while the current form of community participation is well suited to the low level of tourism on the QIGG, there may be a need for more formal structures in the future should visitation increase. This may involve an increase in the number of organizations, both public sector, and NGOs (Broccolini, 2013), thus, further complicating any planning approaches and their implementation. More important, it remains to be seen whether an increase in stakeholders leads to a heightened focus on preservation or development, stakeholder collaboration and the realization of community interests, or the lack of representation thereof. The increase in stakeholders, however, should not solely be perceived as a potentially complicating factor in tourism planning but rather as an avenue into value cocreation (Cabiddu, Lui, & Piccoli, 2013) at the destination level.

Limitations of this study include those generally associated with qualitative research, like a relatively small group of participants, and supposed researcher subjectivity. Also, only the specific set of ICH characteristics which were available in the QIGG could be assessed. However, events such as Nowruz Sayyad often feature in ICH-based tourism, and there are similarities in the nature and function of a variety of intangible cultural assets. The results of this study are therefore applicable to tourism destinations that draw on ICH in their product development.

While there are evident future research needs like the exploration of the recommended planning interventions in other geoparks and destinations offering ICH-based tourism products, or relevant research into ICH in tourism-related fields like hospitality and culinary studies, the authors specifically emphasize the usefulness of the ethnographic approach employed in this study and recommend it for further related research.

Concluding Summary

Even though ICH is increasingly promoted and consumed as a component of a destination’s tourism offering, understanding of the academic and industry implications of this practice is limited. This scarcity of knowledge extends to the planning and management of the related tourism products. Applying a qualitative ethnography methodology, this article examines planning for tourism products based on ICH. It addresses the existing knowledge gap by (a) showing that the provision of ICH-related products in a destination can be challenging in ways that are different from conventional tourism products, (b) identifying factors that can drive the emergence of these differences, and (c) proposing tourism planning and management approaches that consider the specific characteristics of ICH in tourism products. The findings reveal two themes that are significant for (destination) planners dealing with ICH-based tourism. First, the accessibility of ICH, which entails an examination of possible conflicts between tourism and ICH preservation; and second, the appropriateness of ICH use, the consideration of which types of ICH are appropriate for use in tourism. In discussing these two themes, the inherent dependency of ICH on the custodial community is emphasized and, accordingly, the need for a locally driven approach to planning for ICH is outlined. The conceptual contribution of this study extends to the heritage tourism as well as the tourism planning literature. Specific implications of ICH-based tourism for the tourism planning literature include the challenging of conventional approaches to seasonality as well as potential target markets and destination image. The practical contribution of this study suggests the need for a novel and different approach in ICH-based products promotion and consumption, an approach that may differ from the conventional and typical considerations in cultural tourism planning and management.

Footnotes

Minno H. Esfehani, PhD (e-mail: minoo.esfehani@nwu.ac.za), is a postdoctoral fellow at TREES–Tourism Research in Economic Environs and Society, North-West University, Potchefstroom, South Africa. Julia N. Albrecht, PhD (e-mail: julia.albrecht@otago.ac.nz), is a senior lecturer in tourism at the Department of Tourism, University of Otago, Dunedin, New Zealand.

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