7 Places to Meet the Arab World’s Last Traditional Craftspeople

Every year, the black silk covering of the Kaaba is replaced with a new Kiswa, but the immense embroidered cloth is still made using techniques that require extraordinary levels of precision and patience.

At the King Abdulaziz Complex for Holy Kaaba Kiswa in Makkah, artisans work on the elaborate gold and silver embroidery that covers the Kiswa with Qur'anic verses and Islamic motifs. The complex remains one of the world's most specialised centres for this particular form of textile craftsmanship.

The Kiswa is no longer produced entirely through the handwork of a tiny group of individual artisans — the complex employs hundreds of skilled workers and technicians — but the craft retains techniques and knowledge that have been passed down through generations.

Anyone who’s been to Siwa knows that the architecture itself is a craft.

For centuries, the oasis's distinctive buildings were constructed from kershef, a local mixture of salt rock, mud and sand. The material gave Siwa's old settlements their characteristic appearance and helped buildings remain relatively cool in the desert heat.

But the technique has come under pressure as modern concrete construction has replaced traditional materials. For visitors to Siwa, the craft is therefore less about finding a single surviving workshop than understanding the architectural knowledge embedded in the oasis itself, and meeting the younger builders attempting to carry it forward.

Along Oman's northeastern coast, the town of Sur was once one of the great shipbuilding centres of the Indian Ocean.

Its wooden dhows carried cargo and passengers across the Gulf, the Arabian Sea and as far as East Africa and India. Today, fiberglass boats have largely replaced them, and Sur's traditional dhow yards have dwindled dramatically.

The yard still contains traditional tools including awls, bows and caulking irons, even as modern saws and electric drills have entered the process. The result is a living workshop where centuries-old knowledge and modern tools coexist.

Long before palm fronds became the raw material for contemporary souvenirs, date palms were woven into everyday objects across the Arabian Peninsula.

In AlUla, the tradition survives through khous, the practice of weaving dried palm leaves into baskets, trays and other household objects.

The craft is being actively preserved through Madrasat Addeera, a cultural school dedicated to teaching traditional Saudi crafts.

A visit to AlUla therefore offers something slightly different from simply seeking out a “last” artisan.

In Damascus, wood can become a mosaic.

For centuries, Damascene craftsmen have combined different woods with thin pieces of mother-of-pearl to create intricate furniture, boxes and decorative objects. The work requires the artisan to cut and fit hundreds of tiny pieces by hand, transforming what looks from a distance like a simple wooden surface into an elaborate geometric composition.

Few traditional Palestinian crafts carry as much history in every metre of fabric as Majdalawi weaving.

The textile takes its name from Al-Majdal, the historic Palestinian city near Gaza that was known as a major centre of weaving before 1948. At its height, the city had hundreds of looms, with entire families participating in the production of cotton and silk textiles.

Today, only a small number of people continue the tradition.

The story of Majdalawi weaving is therefore also a story of displacement. A craft that originated in Al-Majdal survived through families who carried its knowledge with them, eventually finding a new home in Egypt.

Deep in southern Iraq's marshlands, some buildings are made almost entirely from reeds.

Known as mudhifs, these enormous arched structures have been built by the Marsh Arab communities for thousands of years. They serve as communal guest houses and spaces for ceremonies and gatherings, and their dramatic barrel-vaulted interiors are among the most distinctive examples of traditional architecture in the Arab world.

The technique is extraordinarily specialised. Long reeds are bundled together, planted in opposing rows and bent into enormous arches before being tied together and covered with woven reed mats.

For travellers venturing into Iraq's southern marshes, encountering a mudhif is a chance to see a building tradition that has survived for millennia, and to meet the people trying to ensure it survives for another generation.