Theme: From Pearls to Skyscrapers – The Journey of Qatar’s History
Welcome to Qatar: where ancient desert whispers meet five-star coffee shops, and where a camel might just photobomb your skyscraper selfie. This isn’t just a country. It’s a vibe. And it’s one that has transformed faster than you can say "Lusail City" three times fast.
Let’s rewind the Qatari cassette tape and journey back to the days before air conditioning and Instagram—a time of caravans, coastlines, and communities deeply rooted in the rhythm of nature and resilience.
Long before oil wealth, Qatar’s fortunes were fished from the sea. For centuries, pearling was the lifeblood of the Qatari economy and culture. Imagine teams of men on wooden dhows (sailing boats) each summer, chanting work songs as they prepared to dive. A diver would clamp a tortoiseshell nose clip, tie a weight to his ankle, and plunge into the green Gulf waters holding his breath. Down on the seabed he’d grope for oysters, hoping to find a lustrous pearl inside – odds were about one in 10,000! This was no small clams (pun intended) – in fact, by the late 1800s, pearling made up 75% of the entire Gulf’s exports and employed almost the entire male population of Qatar.
The Pearl Monument on Doha’s Corniche is a giant oyster fountain celebrating Qatar’s pearling past. Before oil, pearls were the country’s treasure.
The work was exhilarating but perilous. Free-divers stayed underwater as long as humanly possible – sometimes too long. Blackouts and even drowning were an occupational hazard. After hours in saltwater their fingers shriveled, and many suffered malnutrition, anemia, or scurvy from months at sea. “We are all, from the highest to the lowest, slaves of one master – the pearl,” declared Sheikh Mohammed bin Thani, Qatar’s 19th-century leader, capturing how all of society revolved around this marine bounty. Divers often earned a pittance for their trouble. As one old-timer, Saad Ismail Jassim (known as the last pearl diver of Qatar), quipped, “Any pearl, in the old days, I find, I sell and then I eat… I’m not keeping it in my pocket and dying of hunger”. In other words, pearls meant survival, not luxury, for those risking their lives to harvest them.
During the “Golden Age” of pearling (late 1800s–early 1900s), Doha’s bay glittered with hundreds of dhow boats. Entire coastal communities pivoted around the pearl trade: merchants from as far as India would await the seasonal haul, while local families endured long absences of fathers and sons at sea. The divers, called ghawas, and their crews followed a strict rhythm. They dived sun-up to sun-down, grasping as many oyster shells as they could before their rope tenders hauled them up gasping for air. They repeated this dozens of times a day. On deck, ship captains led crew in haunting fijiri songs under the stars, thanking the sea and keeping spirits high. Every retrieved oyster was opened with hope – sometimes yielding pinkish pearls the size of a pea, other times nothing but a scuttling crab.
By the 1920s, however, this way of life was on the brink. A perfect storm hit the pearling industry: artificial cultured pearls from Japan flooded the market (why pay for a wild pearl when a farmed one shone just as brightly?), and the Great Depression crushed global demand. Almost overnight, Qatar’s “pearl fever” broke. The once-bustling pearling ports fell quiet as boat owners went bankrupt. Poverty and hunger struck Qatar in the 1930s after its pearl income evaporated. Yet the legacy of those pearling days was profound. It fostered traits like courage, endurance, and communal support that would carry Qatar through future challenges. Even today, Qatar honors that heritage: the capital boasts The Pearl Monument – a giant fountain of an oyster and pearl on the Corniche – and a whole luxury island named The Pearl on a former diving site. In the National Museum of Qatar (a stunning building shaped like a desert rose), you can find exhibits on the pearling era, including Sheikh Mohammed’s own diving gear and even the Pearl Carpet of Baroda glittering with 1.5 million Gulf pearls. The message is clear: Qatar was culturally rich long before it was materially wealthy.
🎧 Listen while you learn: "The Ocean" by Mike Perry – gentle, rhythmic, and sea-swept, like a calm dive into Qatar's coastal past.
Team Discussion Prompts:
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Pearling was dangerous work for meager pay. What do you think motivated young Qataris to become pearl divers? Would you have taken the plunge in their place?
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Pearls shaped Qatar’s identity for centuries. How might the values and skills from the pearling era (teamwork, bravery, navigation, etc.) still influence Qatari culture today?
Just when Qatar’s pearl economy had all but sunk, a new discovery in the mid-20th century turned the tide – black gold. In 1939, on the windswept desert of Dukhan on Qatar’s west coast, prospectors struck oil. World War II delayed things, but by 1949 the first gush of crude was flowing, and with it, Qatar’s transformation had begun. In the span of a few decades, Qatar would journey from pearling boats to private jets – an economic plot twist worthy of a blockbuster.
At first, the changes came slowly. The ruling Al Thani family granted concessions to international oil companies, and foreign experts arrived to map the oil fields. Early production was modest – in 1951 Qatar pumped about 46,500 barrels a day (earning $4.2 million, a fortune at the time). But as more wells came online, the revenues grew, and so did dreams for the nation’s future. For ordinary Qataris who had known only fishing and pearling, the 1950s felt like stepping into a new world. Modern infrastructure sprouted in what had been a largely austere land. Doha got its first power plant, switching on electric lights where oil lamps once flickered. In 1949 the first formal school opened with 50 students and one teacher – a humble start to an education system that would later boom. A year earlier, in 1947, Qatar’s first hospital opened in a renovated beachfront house with 12 beds, treating illnesses that had long plagued the populace. By the late 1950s, the country even built a desalination plant to provide fresh water and a telephone exchange to connect people across the peninsula. These may sound basic, but for Qatar it was like moving from the 19th century to the 20th in a single generation. Elders who remembered curing fish on the beach now saw their grandchildren studying under electric lights and drinking clean water from taps – tangible evidence of progress.
The oil boom also reshaped society. Traditional barasti (palm frond) huts gradually gave way to cement houses funded by oil stipends. Jobs diversified: some former pearl divers retrained as roughnecks on oil rigs, while others joined the growing civil service. The once-empty treasury swelled, enabling the ruling Emir to improve his people’s welfare. Sheikh Ali bin Abdullah Al Thani, who ruled in the 1950s, was known to distribute food and gold coins to families in need during Eid – gestures made possible by petrodollars. By the 1960s, Qatar’s population, which had plummeted when pearling died, began rising again as prosperity encouraged families to grow (and also attracted workers from abroad). One striking statistic: Qatar’s population was around 25,000 in 1950, but over 100,000 by 1970, partly thanks to improved healthcare and living conditions. Widespread poverty and malnutrition receded as oil revenues lifted incomes. “Lunch” for many Qataris was no longer a handful of dates and dried fish – now it could be mandi rice and fresh meat, as imports flowed in and diets improved.
Still, oil had its complexities. Foreign companies initially took the lion’s share of profits, and Qatar had to learn the ropes of the global petroleum market. The ruling family astutely renegotiated terms over time to secure a bigger stake for the state. By the late 1960s, offshore oil fields were discovered and developed by Shell, boosting Qatar’s output to 233,000 barrels per day. With newfound wealth came big decisions: how to invest it? Qatar started building modern roads, seaports, and an airport. In 1969, it launched its own currency (the Qatari riyal) to assert financial independence from neighboring states. The small emirate was growing in confidence and capability, laying the groundwork for independence. When Britain – which had controlled Qatar’s external affairs as a protectorate – decided to withdraw from the Gulf, Qatar was ready. On September 3, 1971, Qatar declared independence, ending the treaty with the British. It was a peaceful transition; the Union Jack came down, and Qatar’s maroon-and-white flag was raised high. After centuries of relying on pearling and decades of foreign supervision, Qatar stood as a sovereign nation, propelled by oil into the modern era.
Team Discussion Prompts:
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Oil wealth brought rapid change to Qatar in the 1950s–60s. In what ways do you think everyday life improved for Qataris during this time? Can you think of any drawbacks or challenges that might come with such sudden prosperity?
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Imagine you were an advisor to Qatar’s ruler in 1971 as the country became independent. What would you suggest Qatar do to ensure its oil wealth benefits all its people and builds a sustainable future? (Think about education, infrastructure, cultural preservation, etc.)
Every great journey needs leaders at the helm. In Qatar’s story, the ruling Al Thani family has played that guiding role for over 150 years, steering the country through rain and shine (or rather, through drought and oil rush). Their saga is filled with dramatic moments—battles, bargains, and bold reforms—that have shaped Qatar into what it is today.
The chronicle begins in the 19th century with Sheikh Mohammed bin Thani, the first notable Al Thani leader, and his son Sheikh Jassim bin Mohammed Al Thani (often hailed as the Founder of Qatar). In an era of competing empires, Sheikh Jassim proved to be a wily statesman and a desert-hardened warrior. He became ruler in 1878 (Qatar celebrates this date, 18 December, as its National Day) and worked to unite the local tribes under his authority. At the time, the Ottoman Empire claimed Qatar as part of its realm, even stationing a garrison in Doha. Tensions simmered for years. Finally, in March 1893, matters came to a head at the Battle of Al Wajbah. Legend has it the Ottomans marched inland to discipline Sheikh Jassim over unpaid taxes – only to be ambushed and soundly defeated by Qatari fighters on horseback. It was a David-versus-Goliath victory that cemented Sheikh Jassim’s reputation and encouraged the Qataris’ sense of distinct identity. The Ottomans retreated, and although they didn’t formally quit Qatar until 1915, Al Wajbah Fort became a proud symbol of Qatar’s desire to govern itself. Shortly after, Qatar turned to Britain for protection (in those days, the British navy patrolled the Gulf). In 1916, Sheikh Jassim’s son Sheikh Abdullah bin Jassim Al Thani signed a treaty with Britain, making Qatar a British protectorate. The British would handle foreign affairs and provide security; in return, the Al Thani kept internal rule. This arrangement lasted for 55 years, during which the Al Thani rulers carefully balanced traditional ways at home with the modernization that came with oil and global contact.
Fast-forward to the independence era. On Independence Day 1971, the ruler was Sheikh Ahmad bin Ali Al Thani, a grandson of Sheikh Abdullah. But soon a family plot twist occurred. In February 1972, while Sheikh Ahmad was away on a hunting trip in Iran (falcons in hand), his cousin Sheikh Khalifa bin Hamad Al Thani seized the moment – and the throne. It was a bloodless palace coup, executed so smoothly that many Qataris heard the news on the radio after the fact. Sheikh Khalifa’s takeover might sound dramatic (imagine “Game of Thrones” but with falcons and Jeeps), yet it heralded a new policy direction rather than chaos. Khalifa bin Hamad promptly cut back the lavish stipends that had been flowing to other royal family members and redirected funds to national development. Under his rule in the 1970s and 1980s, Qatar built up its ministries and infrastructure, expanded education and healthcare, and began playing a more assertive role in the region. One of the biggest milestones during his era was the conscious decision to develop Qatar’s immense natural gas reserves. In 1971 – the same year as independence – Qatar discovered the North Field, the world’s largest natural gas field, off its northeast coast. For a while, this gas bounty lay mostly untapped (oil prices were high, so gas was secondary), but Khalifa knew it was a sleeping giant that could secure the nation’s future. However, the oil market did hit a snag in the 1980s; a price crash combined with some…let’s say accounting irregularities (the Emir siphoning off funds for personal use) led to economic stagnation. By the early 1990s, Qatar faced financial difficulty despite its resources – an irony not lost on observers. It set the stage for another dramatic leadership change.
In 1995, a new chapter of the Al Thani chronicles began. Khalifa’s son, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, decided it was time for a generational shift. In June 1995, while the father Emir Khalifa was vacationing in Switzerland, Hamad orchestrated a coup d’etat without bloodshed. The son simply took charge, and the surprised father remained abroad. Thus began the reign of Sheikh Hamad, who would accelerate Qatar’s sprint onto the global stage. Hamad bin Khalifa (age 43 at the time) ushered in a period of energetic reforms and projects. He fast-tracked the full development of the North Field gas, which proved game-changing for Qatar’s economy. By the mid-2000s Qatar went from a minor gas producer to the world’s largest LNG exporter– fueling not only power plants around the world but also Qatar’s own leap to the highest per-capita income on earth. Sheikh Hamad also took a bold step in media by founding Al Jazeera in 1996 (more on that soon), giving Qatar a loud voice in regional affairs. He modernized the country socially too: women were granted the right to vote and run in municipal elections by the late 1990s, and a new written constitution was approved by public referendum in 2003. The Al Thanis’ style of rule also evolved – still absolute monarchs, but increasingly focused on “soft power” and international branding rather than insular governance.
In another unusual twist, Sheikh Hamad chose to voluntarily abdicate in 2013 in favor of his son, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani. This peaceful handover – a rarity in Gulf politics – was framed as Hamad’s decision to let the next generation lead while he was still alive to advise. In a televised address, Hamad (then 61) said it was time for fresh ideas and new energy, and he had full confidence in Tamim. Thus Tamim, at 33, became one of the world’s youngest heads of state. The transition was marked by streams of well-wishers lining up in Doha to pledge loyalty to the new Emir and thank the outgoing one. Under Emir Tamim (2013–present), Qatar continued on the path set by his father but also faced new challenges – including a regional diplomatic crisis (the GCC blockade) that would test the nation’s resilience. Through all these changes, the Al Thani family has remained at Qatar’s helm, providing a sense of continuity. From the era of pearl divers under Sheikh Jassim to the era of mega-skyscrapers under Sheikh Tamim, the Al Thanis have navigated Qatar’s ship with a mix of pragmatism and ambition. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing (family disputes and attempted counter-coups did occur, such as a foiled effort by ex-Emir Khalifa in 1996), but their dynasty’s stability has been a cornerstone of Qatar’s journey.
Team Discussion Prompts:
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The Al Thani family has ruled Qatar for over a century and a half. What might be the advantages of having one continuous leadership guiding a country through rapid changes? Are there any potential disadvantages? Discuss with examples from Qatar’s history (e.g., 1972 or 1995 power shifts).
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If you could witness a key moment in Qatar’s past leadership (such as the 1893 Battle of Al Wajbah, the 1971 independence, or the 1995 coup), which would you choose and why? How do you think that event changed the course of Qatar’s history?
With oil and gas catapulting Qatar’s wealth sky-high, the country set its sights beyond its borders. In the late 20th and early 21st century, Qatar embarked on a mission of “soft power” – using culture, education, media, and sports to make a mark on the world. After all, Qatar may be small in size, but it wasn’t about to be small in influence. This strategy gave rise to some of the most surprising and headline-grabbing aspects of Qatar’s journey, turning the once-obscure emirate into a global household name.
One of the first moves in this direction was the launch of Al Jazeera in 1996. Having just assumed power, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa wanted to put Qatar on the media map. Al Jazeera started as a scrappy Arabic news channel operating out of Doha, but it broke the mold of Middle Eastern state media by offering uncensored, debate-style programming beamed across the Arab world. Before long, Al Jazeera became the voice of the “Arab street,” broadcasting interviews and viewpoints that other regional channels wouldn’t dare (from Israeli officials to outspoken dissidents). This was a daring gamble: tiny Qatar was asserting a leadership role in information and dialogue, much to the irritation of some neighboring governments. The gamble paid off in spades as viewership skyrocketed. Today, Al Jazeera has grown into a media network in multiple languages (Arabic, English, and more) reaching around 260 million homes in 130 countries. It’s often cited as a classic example of soft power – a small country projecting influence not by force, but by narrative. Al Jazeera gave Qatar a global voice and “brand” far beyond what its population of ~300,000 citizens might suggest. It even arguably shifted geopolitics: during the 2011 Arab Spring, for instance, Al Jazeera’s coverage emboldened protests and showed the world Qatar’s clout in shaping discourse.
Next on Qatar’s global to-do list: become a hub of education and innovation. In 1995, Qatar was still known mostly for oil and gas; by the 2000s, it wanted to be known for brains as well as brawn. Under the patronage of Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser (Sheikh Hamad’s influential wife), Qatar founded Education City on the outskirts of Doha. Starting in 1998, Qatar invited top universities from the US and Europe to set up branch campuses there. Today, walking through Education City is like a world tour of academia – you’ll find Carnegie Mellon University (for computer science and business), Georgetown University (for international affairs), Weill Cornell (for medicine), Texas A&M (for engineering), and others, all in one sprawling campus. The idea seemed audacious: would professors and students really relocate to a desert country for school? But generous funding and state-of-the-art facilities made it a success. Qatari and international students study side by side, and research centers tackle everything from desert agriculture to biomedical science. By building Education City, Qatar signaled that it refuses to be a one-generation oil boomtown – it’s investing in a knowledge economy to carry it into the future. As one Qatari official put it, “Our oil will run out; our minds, we hope, will not.” Qatar also established the Qatar Foundation to promote education, science, and community development, further underpinning its soft power credentials through philanthropy and intellectual output.
Of course, when it comes to global profile, nothing beats sports and mega-events in grabbing attention. Qatar shocked the world in December 2010 when it won the bid to host the 2022 FIFA World Cup. How could a country with no World Cup track record, blistering summer heat, and just over 2 million residents (mostly expatriates) convince FIFA to let it host the planet’s biggest sporting event? Qatar promised the extraordinary: cutting-edge outdoor cooling technology to deal with the 40°C weather, twelve spectacular new stadiums (later adjusted to eight) with designs inspired by local culture, and an entire new city (Lusail) to host the final match. Skeptics abounded – some couldn’t even place Qatar on a map – but Qatar was determined to prove them wrong (and had the deep pockets to do so). Over the next twelve years, the country undertook an architectural and logistical marathon: building metro lines, highways, hotels, and those World Cup stadiums in a burst of construction rarely seen in history. By 2019, Doha’s skyline bristled with over 50 new skyscrapers compared to two decades earlier, and iconic structures like the Museum of Islamic Art (designed by I.M. Pei) and the National Museum of Qatar (Jean Nouvel’s desert-rose design) showcased its cultural ambitions. The World Cup itself, held in Nov–Dec 2022, was a source of immense pride. It was the first World Cup in the Arab world, and Qatar welcomed over a million visitors during the tournament. Fans were amazed by the air-conditioned stadiums and the seamless organization in such a small country. The final match saw Argentina triumph, but in many ways Qatar also won – it introduced millions of viewers to its culture (from camels and falcons on display to traditional arda sword dances at ceremonies) and demonstrated its ability to execute a global event. That said, the journey was not without controversy. In the lead-up, Qatar faced criticism about the conditions for migrant workers building the infrastructure and allegations of bribery in the bidding process. These challenges pushed Qatar to institute labor reforms (such as dismantling the restrictive kafala system) and improve worker accommodations. By the time of the World Cup, many skeptics conceded that Qatar had delivered on its promises, even if debates about migrant rights continued. For Qatar, hosting the World Cup was about more than sports – it was a statement: we have arrived on the world stage.
Beyond football, Qatar has deployed its wealth in other savvy ways internationally. The country’s sovereign wealth fund, the Qatar Investment Authority (QIA), amassed over $170 billion from oil and gas surpluses. Rather than let that sit idle, Qatar went on a shopping spree – not of yachts and gold (well, maybe a few of those) – but of high-profile assets around the globe. Ever been to London? Qatar likely owns a piece of it. Through QIA, Qatar owns The Shard (Western Europe’s tallest skyscraper) and large chunks of Canary Wharf in London, as well as the luxurious Harrods department store. It holds major stakes in companies like Barclays Bank, Volkswagen, Credit Suisse, and Miramax Films. Sports again play into this strategy: in 2011, a Qatari sports investment bought the Parisian football club Paris Saint-Germain (PSG), turning it into a European powerhouse that attracts superstar players. All these investments act as tentacles of influence and prestige, weaving Qatar into the fabric of global business and culture. It’s not uncommon to see “Qatar” in the headlines of the Financial Times, whether for buying a stake in a skyscraper or mediating a diplomatic dispute in a far-flung region.
From the soft diplomacy angle, Qatar has carved a niche as a mediator in regional conflicts. Doha has hosted peace talks for factions from Sudan, Afghanistan, Palestine, and Lebanon, capitalizing on Qatar’s image as a neutral, independent player (helped by Al Jazeera’s balanced coverage). While Qatar is a member of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) and an ally of the West (it hosts the largest US airbase in the Middle East at Al-Udeid), it often keeps dialogue open with all sides – for instance, maintaining cordial ties with Iran, with whom it shares the massive gas field. This sometimes irks its neighbors, but it also gives Qatar outsized diplomatic clout for its size. Hosting the 2006 Asian Games and negotiating the release of hostages in international incidents alike, Qatar has shown a flair for punching above its weight. It even introduced the world to Qatar Airways, now a leading global airline (known for its onboard luxury – including a flying onboard lounge on A380 planes). If you’ve traveled internationally, chances are you’ve transited through Doha’s award-winning Hamad International Airport, complete with the giant “Lamp Bear” art sculpture and gleaming duty-free shops. All of these are parts of Qatar’s global branding.
Looking at Qatar now, it’s hard to imagine that 80 years ago it was a quiet pearling backwater. The country has deftly used its natural resource wealth to build universities, media networks, museums, sports facilities, and alliances – the pillars of its soft power. The journey isn’t over, of course. Qatar faces questions like: how to sustain this influence if energy prices fluctuate? Can it diversify its economy further (perhaps become a technology or tourism hub)? And how to handle geopolitical tightropes – for example, balancing relations with both the US and regional powers like Saudi Arabia and Iran. But one thing is clear: Qatar’s global journey from obscurity to the world stage is unique and deliberate. As a popular meme during the World Cup declared: “Qatar: small country, big dreams.”
Team Discussion Prompts:
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Which form of Qatar’s “soft power” do you find most impactful, and why – its global media (Al Jazeera), its educational initiatives (Education City and scholarships), or its hosting of major sports/cultural events (like the World Cup)? How do each of these shape international perceptions of Qatar?
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Hosting the FIFA World Cup put Qatar in the spotlight. In your opinion, what were the biggest benefits Qatar gained from hosting such a mega-event? Do you think these benefits outweigh the criticisms and costs that came with it? Discuss how a country might measure success beyond just dollars spent or earned.
Amidst all the rapid changes – the high-rises and international spotlights – Qatar has held tight to the things that make it feel like home. Three F’s sum it up: Family, Falcons, and (Gulf) Friends. These are the anchors of Qatari identity that have provided stability and resilience, especially in times of regional turbulence. Let’s unpack each one.
Firstly, family is the heart of Qatari society. This is true across many cultures, but in Qatar the extended family (and tribal ties) form the bedrock of social life. It’s common for multiple generations to live close together or under one roof – children, parents, grandparents, plus aunts, uncles, and a flurry of cousins coming in and out. Big family majlis (gatherings) are a daily affair, where everyone sits on plush floor cushions, sipping gahwa (Arabic coffee) and sweet tea, sharing news and advice. Respect for elders is paramount; a young Qatari is taught to greet the oldest person in the room first, often with a kiss on the head or a warm handshake. Decisions (from marriage to business) are frequently made collectively or at least in consultation with the family council. In short, the Qataris take the saying “It takes a village to raise a child” quite literally – except the “village” is usually one giant interconnected family network! This strong familial support system has been a source of resilience. During hard times, like the pearling crash in the 1930s or the recent blockade in 2017, families leaned on each other – sharing resources, housing relatives who were stranded by travel restrictions, and keeping morale high with communal meals and storytelling. Even as Qatar modernizes, these family bonds remain central. While one can spot teenagers in Doha malls texting on the latest iPhones, chances are they’re texting a cousin or an uncle, since family ties double as friendship circles. Socially, weekend desert camping trips are popular, where an entire family convoy sets up tents in the dunes, cooks over open fires, and recounts old tales under the stars. It’s a way of reconnecting with the Bedouin traditions and with each other, reinforcing that sense of togetherness that defines “Gulf feels.”
Next, let’s talk about falcons – the feathered icons of Qatari (and broader Gulf) heritage. In Qatar, owning a falcon is not just a hobby; it’s a statement of cultural pride and a bond between man and bird that harks back to the days when Bedouins relied on these raptors for hunting meat in the harsh desert. Walk through Doha’s traditional Souq Waqif marketplace, and you’ll stumble upon the Falcon Souq: a whole section of shops selling falcons, hoods, GPS trackers, and all manner of falconry gear. Perched on stands are majestic falcons with leather blinders on their eyes (to keep them calm), while their owners – who might be schoolboys or senior sheikhs – fuss over them like proud parents. In fact, it’s not far-fetched to say falcons become part of the family. “In Qatar, falcons are a symbol of dignity, valor and pride… Falcons would be considered part of the family,” notes Dr. Ikdam Alkarkhi, director of the Doha Falcon Hospital. Yes, you read that right – there is a falcon hospital in Doha, a state-of-the-art clinic where falcons get endoscopies, X-rays, and even surgery if needed! Falcon owners spare no expense; a top-quality falcon (especially a prized breed like a gyrfalcon or a purebred saker) can fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the most exceptional have been valued in the millions. To protect these investments (and beloved pets), Qatar even issues falcon passports – since 2004, every traveling falcon needs its own passport for identification when flying abroad. It’s not unusual to see an airline cabin in the Middle East with a row of falcons calmly hooded on their owners’ arms (often in business class!). Falconry is such a big deal that it’s recognized by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage, and Qatar holds an annual grand Falconry Festival where competitions judge the birds’ speed and hunting skill. Historically, falconry taught patience, focus, and partnership with nature – values Qatar still cherishes even as it urbanizes. The image of a falcon adorns Qatari currency and government logos, and many young Qataris, boys and girls, train in the art from an early age, often mentored by elders. It’s a common weekend sight to see SUVs heading out of Doha with falcons and their handlers, going to practice in the open desert. By keeping falconry alive, Qataris keep a tangible link to their ancestors’ way of life, reminding themselves that not so long ago, survival depended on these swift predators and the skill to handle them.
Finally, “Gulf feels” refers to Qatar’s kinship and dynamics with its Gulf neighbors – a mix of fraternity and rivalry, shared culture and the occasional family feud. The countries of the GCC (Gulf Cooperation Council) – Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Bahrain, the UAE, Oman, and Qatar – are like six siblings: they have a common cultural DNA (Arab and Islamic heritage, pearl diving histories, Bedouin traditions), yet each has its own personality and interests. Qatar, being small in land and population, has often had to navigate carefully in this club of giants. For many years, Qatar maintained very warm ties with neighbors; intermarriage among royal families was common, and Qatar was an eager participant in regional initiatives. If you visited Doha in the 1990s, you’d see almost as many Saudi and Emirati weekend shoppers as Qataris, enjoying the corniche and markets. However, Qatar’s independent streak (like launching Al Jazeera, or fostering relations with groups others shunned) sometimes irked its neighbors – particularly Saudi Arabia and the UAE. These tensions came to a head in 2017, when a political rift led Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Bahrain, and Egypt to impose a blockade on Qatar. Practically overnight, Qatar’s only land border (with Saudi) was closed, and air and sea routes were blocked. It was a seismic shock: flights were canceled, citizens and camels (yes, even camels) were expelled from neighboring countries, and imports of food and medicine were cut off. But Qatar did not panic – it dug in and responded with trademark resilience and creativity. Turkey and Iran stepped in to fly in staples, and Qatar’s government urgently established new trade routes (within a month, a new direct shipping line from India brought fresh supplies). Famously, a Qatari company airlifted 3,400 dairy cows from Europe – on cargo planes! – to quickly start local milk production and replace the 400 tons of Saudi milk that had been daily imported pre-blockade. By July 11, 2017, just a month into the crisis, those cows were being milked in Qatar’s desert dairy farm – an almost comic yet heroic achievement. Qataris rallied around their leadership; the Emir’s image appeared on buildings and car rear-windows with the slogan “Tamim al-majd” (“Tamim the Glorious”). Traditional values of hospitality were evident too: Qatar refused to expel citizens of the blockading nations, saying “We’re all Gulf brothers; ordinary people shouldn’t suffer.” Over the next 3½ years, Qatar not only survived the blockade but in some ways emerged stronger. It became self-sufficient in dairy and poultry, ramped up local industries, and forged new international partnerships. The social unity was palpable – family ties and national pride helped people cope with what could have been a very isolating ordeal. By January 2021, the feud was formally resolved: at the Al-Ula Summit in Saudi Arabia, Gulf leaders (including Qatar’s Emir Tamim) embraced and signed a reconciliation agreement ending the blockade and restoring travel and trade ties. The sight of Qatar’s Emir literally being welcomed with open arms in the same place that had once shut Qatar out was powerful. It underscored that despite political quarrels, the GCC countries are interlinked by history and family (for example, many Qataris have Saudi or Bahraini cousins, and vice versa). “Gulf feels” means that even when they bicker, these nations share a certain warmth and cultural understanding – a bit like siblings who may fight but ultimately can’t cut the familial bond.
For Qatar, the blockade saga reinforced lessons: self-reliance, solidarity, and diplomacy. Qatar did not compromise its sovereignty under pressure, yet it also didn’t turn bitter – once the blockade was lifted, Qatar quickly resumed cordial relations, hosting a victorious Arabian Gulf Cup football tournament in 2019 where Saudi and UAE teams played in Doha to cheering crowds. The episode became part of the national narrative that Qatar’s tight-knit society (family) and cherished traditions (falcons and others) give it roots, while its savvy statecraft gives it wings. In an ever-changing world, Qatar balances the old and new: it deploys cutting-edge tech and policy on one hand, and on the other, it nurtures majlis culture, falconry, and a strong sense of belonging to the Gulf community. A visitor might be dazzled by Doha’s skyscrapers by day, and then at night be invited to sit on a carpet under a tent, eat home-cooked machboos (spiced rice) with a family, and perhaps hold a falcon on their arm – getting a genuine taste of that famous Qatari hospitality that hasn’t changed with the skyline.
At the Falcon Souq in Doha, even young Qataris take part in the tradition. Falcons are tethered on the ground as their owners in thobes (white robes) and bishts (cloaks) discuss and socialize. Falconry remains a popular family activity, linking generations in Qatar’s modern society.
Team Discussion Prompts:
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In a rapidly modernizing country like Qatar, why do you think traditions such as strong family gatherings and falconry remain important? Discuss how these traditions contribute to national identity and personal values for young Qataris growing up amid skyscrapers.
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When Qatar faced the Gulf blockade (2017–2021), what internal strengths helped it persevere? Consider the role of unity (national and familial), innovation (like flying in cows!), and diplomatic patience. What lessons about resilience and self-sufficiency can other countries learn from Qatar’s experience?
🎧 Wrap it up with heart: "World" by Five for Fighting
Qatar’s journey isn’t over. Its next chapter could be written by the very students reading this.
Reflection Questions:
- What surprised you most about Qatar’s transformation?
- If you were designing a museum exhibit about Qatar’s story, what would you include? Pearls? Pipelines? Passport-holding falcons?
📌 Visit the National Museum of Qatar online
From deep dives to high rises, from camel trails to cloud-piercing towers – this is Qatar.
Now cue the next song… and let the Lighthouse Arabia Cup begin.