How one island built a global tourism brand and why Africa must go further by building inclusive prosperity.
Bali and Zanzibar are two of the most naturally and culturally gifted islands on Earth. Each offers a stunning coastline, rich traditions, deep history, and a globally recognized name. But today, one is a tourism powerhouse ranked among the world’s top destinations. The other, despite its promise, remains a peripheral stop on the global tourism circuit.
The difference is not in the beaches. It’s not in the culture, or the food, or even the people. The difference is in what each place has done with what it has.
Zanzibar may be decades behind Bali. But the real gap is not time. It is intention.
Bali: A Masterclass in State-Built Tourism
Bali was never destined to succeed. It was a rural, remote island in a developing country, far from Europe and the US, the traditional markets of global tourism. But starting in the 1970s, the Indonesian state made a strategic decision: Bali would be Indonesia’s front-facing cultural brand. It would be nurtured, built, curated, and marketed as a national asset.
The results speak for themselves.
In 2024, Bali attracted over 6.3 million international tourists, about eight times more than the 736,800 who came to Zanzibar. Including domestic tourism, the island saw over 15 million arrivals. It also generated an estimated 17.6 billion dollars in tourism revenue, compared to Zanzibar’s 1.02 billion. That is not just a gap in scale, it is a gap in how effectively each island converts natural beauty into structured economic value.
Bali’s rise was not just about hotels and airports. It embedded itself into global imagination through books, films, yoga culture, and digital nomadism. From Eat, Pray, Love to the globally recognized Bali aesthetic, the island became not just a destination but a symbol of escape, spirituality, and balance.
That visibility was not accidental. Bali cultivated an ecosystem of storytellers: content creators, filmmakers, retreat organizers. It made itself easy to photograph, easy to share, and easy to remember. Critically, it projected a consistent emotional identity: peaceful, artistic, and welcoming.
The state invested in infrastructure ahead of demand. Integrated resort zones, visa on arrival policies, tourist taxes, behavioral codes, co-working hubs, and even a planned subway were all part of the model. Bali is curated, governed, and branded in harmony.
Most importantly, Bali did not erase its culture for tourism. It elevated it. Rituals, architecture, art, and religion are woven into the visitor experience. The result is not just revenue. It is loyalty. Bali is not just a place. It is a story, and the world keeps returning to it.
Still, Bali’s success comes with tension. While Balinese people are highly visible in the mid-tier tourism economy, running homestays, restaurants, transport, and crafts, ownership of high-value assets remains largely foreign. Land prices have risen beyond local reach, and debates about overdevelopment and cultural dilution are now political flashpoints. Bali built scale and visibility, but whether it built equity remains an open question.
Zanzibar: Potential Without Structure
Zanzibar, by contrast, remains a destination full of raw potential but lacking structural coherence. It has it all: postcard beaches, world-renowned cultural heritage, a centuries-old maritime legacy, and deep local traditions. Yet in 2024, it attracted fewer than 740,000 international tourists, a number Bali now sees in a single month.
The issue is not beauty or demand. It is governance, narrative, and strategic direction.
Zanzibar’s semi-autonomous status within the Tanzanian union has created chronic ambiguity in tourism leadership. Responsibilities overlap. Marketing is fragmented. Investors face uncertainty. There is no unified national project around tourism, just a patchwork of agencies and ad hoc initiatives.
That said, change is underway. The government has digitized visas, improved port and airport infrastructure, and created new investment zones. The launch of ZIPA and private developments like Fumba Town and Blue Amber signal a shift toward a more investment-ready posture. These are important steps, but they still lack institutional coordination and whole-of-government execution.
Even where investments occur, they often lack integration. Resorts import their food. Tour operators are foreign-run. Training programs are limited. Local supply chains remain weak. Zanzibar’s tourism economy is expanding outward toward arrivals and foreign capital, but not downward into local linkages or upward into community ownership.
Culturally, Zanzibar has not yet claimed a singular voice. While Bali offers a clear emotional proposition: spirituality, healing, beauty, Zanzibar has no unified story. It is a spice island, a Swahili capital, a Muslim heritage site, a beach escape, but it lacks narrative coherence. Stone Town is beautiful but underutilized. The Swahili identity remains uncurated. Few curated experiences guide visitors through Zanzibar’s deeper layers.
The hesitation is understandable. Zanzibar must navigate religious conservatism, postcolonial tensions, and sensitivities around its union with mainland Tanzania. These are real constraints. But without a coherent and respectful narrative, Zanzibar will struggle to define itself on the global stage.
Tourism’s Harder Question: Who Owns the Upside?
Growing arrivals is only the first question in any tourism strategy. The second and more difficult question is: who benefits?
Even Bali, with all its coordination and brand power, shows the limits of success if it is not broadly owned. Zanzibar has not reached Bali’s scale yet, but that gives it an opportunity. It can design something better from the start, not just bigger.
In both places, the core problem is the same: ownership.
Bali’s tourism infrastructure is largely foreign-owned. Yes, Balinese families are active in the mid-tier economy, running villas, shops, and transport. And Balinese culture is central to the visitor experience. But at the top of the capital stack, luxury hotels, development companies, booking platforms, the control remains external. The symbolism is local. The financial power is not.
In Zanzibar, it is starker. Foreigners own most resorts. Tour operators are based abroad. Profits flow out. The average Zanzibari participates in tourism as a low-paid employee, not as an entrepreneur or investor.
This creates a dual economy: one sleek, profitable, and externally controlled, the other local, informal, and underpaid. Despite generating billions in revenue, Bali’s per capita income is just 3,700 dollars. Zanzibar’s is even lower, 1,374 dollars. Paradise may be profitable, but for many locals, it is a low-wage trap.
That is not development. It is dependency. And both islands must do better.
Zanzibar, and many African destinations like it, must confront this directly. Tourism cannot be a ceiling. It must be a ladder. That means protecting local land ownership through co-investment models. It means expanding access to finance, not just microloans, but real capital for local entrepreneurs to build equity and scale.
It also means investing in training that leads to management and ownership, not just service roles. And it means treating culture as an economic asset, one that locals control, curate, and earn from. The Swahili identity, like so many others across Africa, must be protected and monetized by those who live it, not just displayed for visitors.
Because true success is not measured in tourist arrivals. It is measured in how many locals own a stake in what is being built.
Bali is only truly successful if the Balinese prosper. Zanzibar will only rise if Zanzibaris do.
Final Thought: The Gap Is Not Resources. It Is Resolve.
Yes, Bali had a head start. But what mattered was not how early it began. It was what it did with the time. Zanzibar may be decades behind. But it stands at a pivotal stage, one where bold, intentional decisions could allow it to leapfrog, not just catch up.
The raw materials are there. The growth is underway. But unless Zanzibar makes strategic decisions around governance, ownership, storytelling, and purpose, it risks becoming a beautiful destination owned by others.
Bali was not born better. It was built better. What Zanzibar lacks in time, it still holds in opportunity.
The real gap is not in resources. It is in resolve, storytelling, and strategy.