Qatar adopted the art and science of mapmaking – which dates back to hundreds of years ago- to traverse the nation’s sand dunes and coastal area.

Long before the rise of new digital technologies, navigation was a skill deeply rooted in Qatar and the region, serving both as a practical necessity and a source of pride.

These traditional techniques, along with the cultural practices that surround them, remain preserved in the collective memory of the Qatari community, thanks to initiatives such as the Sheikh Faisal bin Qassim Museum (FBQ) Museum.

“The art and science of mapmaking has a deep history in the Arab world,” Mahmoud Saber, the education officer at the FBQ museum, told Doha News.

Today, the rise of satellite-based radio navigation systems, otherwise known as GPS, has become a mundane part of modern life. Gone are the days of carrying physical broad maps, which have now been replaced by digital applications that fit in the palm of one’s hand.

Yet the art of cartography has deep roots in the Islamic world, dating back to hundreds of years ago.

In the 12th century, Abdallah ibn Idris Al Sharif Al Idrisi of Morocco emerged as a prominent mapmaker. His work was so influential that it was translated into Latin and became a cornerstone for global studies of the time.

In 1145, Al Idrisi was commissioned by King Roger II of Sicily to create an updated map of the world. The mapmaker combined existing knowledge from Greek and Arab texts with fresh insights gathered from geographers he dispatched to explore and report back on various regions.

Al Idrisi’s atlas wasn’t completed until 1154 C.E.

“Qataris adopted this knowledge from the Islamic Golden Age, as well as from Europe, to traverse the nation’s sand dunes and coastal area,” Saber said. 

One of the tools used for navigation was the astrolabe. Its origins hark back to Ancient Greece between 150 and 220 BCE. The word itself is a derivative of the Greek “astrolabos,” which means “star taker”.

Astrolabes have four main components: the mater, Latin for mother, which contains the degree scale and scale for hours engraved on the edge. The hollowed part of the mater contains latitude plates.

The rete, which derives from the Latin for “marvelous network”, serves both aesthetic and functionality purposes.

“This is not just for decoration,” Saber told Doha News. “Each point contains a positioning of a specific star.” While an off-centre circle within the rete shows the sun’s movement throughout the year. 

The device is also equipped with the alidade – a rotating arm with slots to act as a sight. 

The complex instrument was perfected during the Islamic Golden Age.

“One of the most complicated renditions of the astrolabe is the one developed by Mariam Al Astrulabi,” Saber said.

The daughter of astrolabe-maker Al Ijliy Al Astrulabi, the Syrian was tasked by Sayf Al Dawla, founder of the former Emirate of Aleppo, for timekeeping and navigation within the royal court.

Along Qatar’s 350-mile coast, Mahmoud Saber, education officer at the FBQ Museum, explains the significance of the al kamal, a simple yet effective wooden tool used by Qatari sea communities.

“Al kamal was essential for navigating the open waters,” Saber said.

“It consisted of a rectangular wooden card and a string with knots, used to measure the height of stars above the horizon.” 

Saber further explained how sailors would align the card with specific stars, adjusting the knots on the string to calculate their latitude.

“It was simple but precise,” he said, “and for centuries, this tool guided sailors on long journeys, ensuring they returned safely from the sea.”

In her study of Qatar’s relationship with the sea, Kaltham Al Ghanim described its “soul, sound, power and quietness” being a “muse” of cultural production – narrating the stories of people’s daily experience through folkloric poetry and songs.

In her research, titled ‘The Collective Unconscious The Model of the Qatari Relationship with the Sea,’ Al Ghanim, sociology professor at Qatar University, examined the era when the sea was a major source of income for  Qataris and its cultural legacy.

During the long searches for pearls, holo songs in praise of God echoed through the seas. Holo featured simple melodies and repetition of a lone verse.

Al Ghanim also discussed how popular diving songs gave insights into the conditions faced by Qatar’s men in search of pearls.

Pearling hardship and the difficult nature of the job also created the Nahma and Dawari music genres.

During a 2022 event organised by the Culture Ministry’s Music Affairs Centre division, Faisal Al Tamimi, a musician and heritage researcher, explained that both genres were designed to uplift the men on board.

The former is a traditional maritime singing art form where the ‘naham,’ or designated singer, was tasked with memorising thousands of poetic verses. While Dawari music relied on the rhythm of drums, horns and clapping to laud the sailors.

During this period, women also maintained their own musical traditions, which highlighted the impact of pearl diving on their lives and celebrated the brave divers who risked their lives to reach depths of up to 1.5 metres.

“The one who dies will leave others in sorrow. And the one who lives will pay his debts,” the women used to sing.

There were also songs dedicated to discussing returning back home, otherwise known as qifal.

Alluding to the future, Al Ghanim noted that Qatar’s oil boom didn’t lead to new paradigms in local culture.

“Petroleum did not yield literature, culture, practices, or social customs. All literary and artistic movements in the region at the age of petroleum are nothing but an extension of the two cultures of the sea and the desert,” she wrote.