The pearl: an ancient myth
The earliest archaeological evidence of pearl fishing in the region dates back almost 4,000 years. In theEpic of Gilgamesh, the secret of immortality that the hero comes to seek in these mysterious islands could be, according to historians, these famous pearls. By the time of Dilmun, Mesopotamian tablets were already referring to "shining stones" from the south. Bahrain took advantage of its seabed and the Pinctada radiata oyster, renowned for producing pearls of exceptional finesse. These natural gems are the result of the oyster's self-defense process: when parasites attack the shell, it protects itself by forming a ball of nacre. These secretions form some of the most beautiful pearls in the world, and they soon attracted the great civilizations of the Mediterranean world - Greeks, Romans, and later the Venetians, Moghuls and Ottomans, who all sought out these rare pearls.
In the 13th century, Marco Polo mentioned the pearls of the Gulf in his stories. Centuries later, they adorned the finery of the elites of Istanbul and Delhi, and later the courts of Europe. In the early 20th century, the House of Cartier made them one of its fetish materials: Jacques Cartier, on a voyage to the Gulf, stopped off in Bahrain to select the finest pieces himself, which he intended for the necklaces of English nobility or the tiaras of the French haute bourgeoisie. Bahraini pearls, irregular but dazzling, rose to the pinnacle of world luxury.
An economy and society structured by the sea
From the 18th century onwards, pearl fishing became the archipelago's main source of income. Every year, the peak season(ghaus al-kabir) begins in May and mobilizes thousands of men. The boats are run by nakhudas - experienced captains - who recruit divers(ghawwās), rowers(saib) and assistants. Expeditions, lasting several weeks or even months, are non-stop. On board, the men sleep under the stars, subjected to sweltering heat, hunger, Gulf storms or sharks.
Using stones as weights, the divers descend to the bottom of the sea, making dozens of descents a day to depths of up to ten meters. Equipped with rope baskets and leather nose pliers, they scrape the seabed, hoping to discover the oyster that hides an exceptional pearl. Most of the shells are empty or contain deformed pearls. Only a tiny minority contain a Dana: a perfectly round, pearly pearl of inestimable value.
A company focused on the sea
The pearling society follows a rigorous, almost feudal structure. Each member of the crew, from the captain down to the youngest assistant, has a precise role and a defined share of the spoils. The nakhudas, both captains and investors, are often local notables, the only ones to know the secrets of the sea, and rely on a network of commercial relations. They recruit their crews on credit, in advance of expected earnings. This system creates a strong economic dependence, particularly for the ghawwās, the divers, whose bravery is certainly highlighted, but who more often than not live in abject precariousness.
The ghawwās are young, robust men, often from modest families in Muharraq or Sitra. Their daily lives are punctuated by extreme physical exertion: they work between ten and twelve hours a day. Freediving is a dangerous profession: syncope, drowning, internal injuries due to pressure... Every time they descend, they risk their lives. But once back on land, they are celebrated as true heroes. Their funeral song(Fijeri) is considered one of the most important legacies of Gulf maritime culture. It is even said that a good diver should know as many songs as diving techniques. These melodies, passed down orally from generation to generation, are both prayers to ensure a safe return to land and legendary tales, evoking the sea as lover, foe or nurturing mother.
Rowers, for their part, are generally less highly regarded, but indispensable to navigation and on-board logistics. The siyub, the person who helps the diver to the surface by pulling the rope, plays a vital role in the ghawwās' survival. This solidarity often becomes an unbreakable bond between crewmen. Relationships that extend ashore: pearl-fishing families are often united by marriage.
Every summer, as the season approaches, the town of Muharraq is abuzz with activity: craftsmen repair the hulls of the dhows, mothers weave the ropes, and imams read verses from the Koran to bless the expeditions. Men set off with a handful of dates, dried fish, a jar of fresh water... They are entrusted with amulets to protect them from drowning. On their return at the end of summer, the whole community gathers on the quayside to welcome those who have been lucky enough to survive - and to mourn the lost.
Peak and decline
Bahrain's pearling industry reached its peak in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It is estimated that a third of the population depended directly or indirectly on this activity: in the 1930s, more than 30,000 people made their living from the industry. Bahraini pearls, sold as far away as Paris and Tokyo, became the nec plus ultra of luxury and elegance. When Albert Londres visited the Gulf in the 1930s, he wrote a few enthusiastic lines about these men "who dive to the bottom of the water to seek silence and bring back light".
But this prosperity was brutally interrupted by two major events. Firstly, Kokichi Mikimoto's development of cultured pearls in Japan made natural mother-of-pearl less competitive. Mass-produced, uniform and much cheaper, these industrial pearls flooded the world market. On the other hand, the discovery of oil in Bahrain in 1932 shifted the economy from the sea to the land. The pearling model collapsed: dhows were abandoned, shipyards deserted, know-how forgotten.
A preserved heritage
But the story doesn't end there. Since the 2000s, the Bahraini authorities have been working to restore this fundamental part of their identity. The "Pearl Trail" in Muharraq, listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2012, links 17 historic buildings, three coastal sites and an ancient port over a distance of 3.5 kilometers. It allows visitors to relive the daily life of pearl families, understand the social organization and see the places where expeditions were prepared.
The National Museum of Bahrain exhibits a unique collection of objects linked to this era: diving tools, antique jewelry and navigational instruments. Some pearls date back to the 1st century A.D., while others come directly from orders placed by European jewellers with local merchants. There are even extracts from logbooks annotated by French merchants.
The annual Sea Festival features nautical competitions, traditional diving demonstrations and Fiji singing. Some young Bahrainis still learn to snorkel the old-fashioned way.
The pearl, symbol of Bahrain
Today, Bahrain is the only country in the world where natural pearl fishing is still carried out legally, under strict license and quotas. A few artisan jewelers continue to work exclusively with these natural pearls, the last to be harvested at sea. Offered at weddings and handed down from mother to daughter, pearls are charged with emotion and memory.
But more than that, they have become a key to understanding contemporary Bahraini identity. In a rapidly changing country, caught up in globalization and the radical changes that are shaking up the world, the memory of these men who risked their lives at the bottom of the sea has become a marker of identity. The government, via the Authority for Culture and Antiquities, is resurrecting this past to make it an integral part of the Bahraini national story.
In schools, history textbooks now tell the story of the fishermen of yesteryear. Children visit the restored houses of the nakhudas, listen to recordings of fidjeri and learn to identify traditional tools. A duty to remember, supported and financed by UNESCO and the government among others, which has saved this age-old culture from oblivion: in the 20th century, this island people had turned away from the sea. In Manama, for example, the Dar Al Muharraq cultural center organizes workshops where former divers tell high school students about their life at sea. Perhaps this will inspire new vocations.
In the arts, the pearl is inspiring a new generation of creators: mother-of-pearl sculptures, contemporary installations, refined jewelry and poems singing the beauty of the sea are all making a comeback. Even architects are taking inspiration from the pearl: in Diyar Al Muharraq, a new city by the sea, some buildings are shaped like half-open oysters, while streets are adorned with mosaics depicting ancient sea routes. The pearl has also become a diplomatic object: offered to heads of state or exhibited at international trade fairs, it tells the story of a Bahrain deeply rooted in its history, in contrast to the clichés about the region. For many Bahrainis, memories of the sea remain engraved in the family memory: grandfathers were divers or captains, grandmothers sold shellfish or embroidered sailors' clothes. And it's probably no coincidence that the Arab Spring protesters set up their headquarters in Manama's Pearl Square.
Today, a new generation of fishermen is taking up the torch. Although divers are now equipped with scuba tanks and no longer risk their lives by multiplying snorkeling descents, Bahrain's pearls are still as beautiful as they were 5,000 years ago.
