The Untold History of Western Bahrain: A Crossroads of Culture and Conflict
Home / Al-Gharbiyah history
Bahrain’s western region is often overshadowed by the glitz of Manama or the oil-rich east, but its history is a microcosm of the Gulf’s turbulent past—and a lens into today’s geopolitical tensions. From ancient Dilmun to modern-day disputes over resources and identity, this corner of the island holds stories that resonate far beyond its shores.
Long before skyscrapers dotted Bahrain’s skyline, the western coast was a hub for the Dilmun civilization (circa 3000 BCE). Archaeologists have unearthed burial mounds near Hamad Town, suggesting a society that traded with Mesopotamia and the Indus Valley. These artifacts aren’t just relics; they’re proof of Bahrain’s role as a pre-oil globalizer—a theme that echoes in today’s debates about economic diversification.
Fast-forward to the 16th century: the Portuguese built the Qal’at al-Bahrain (Bahrain Fort) on the west coast, a UNESCO site that symbolizes the Gulf’s history of foreign domination. The fort’s cannons once pointed toward rival empires, much like today’s military bases in the region (looking at you, U.S. Fifth Fleet). The irony? The same waters that hosted colonial powers are now contested by Iran’s "axis of resistance" and Saudi-led security initiatives.
In the 1930s, Bahrain’s west became a battleground of sorts—not with swords, but with drilling rigs. The discovery of oil in Awali shifted the island’s wealth westward, creating a stark divide between the cosmopolitan east and the more tribal, conservative west. This tension mirrors modern Saudi Arabia’s NEOM project: resource-rich regions demanding a seat at the table.
Before oil, there were pearls. Western villages like Budaiya were once home to divers who risked their lives for the Gulf’s "white gold." Their decline in the 1920s—due to Japanese cultured pearls—was an early lesson in globalization’s ruthlessness. Sound familiar? It’s the same story as Bahraini fishermen today competing with imported shrimp from India.
In 2011, Bahrain’s western villages like Diraz became flashpoints during the Arab Spring. The government’s crackdown on protests—backed by Saudi tanks rolling in via the King Fahd Causeway—highlighted the west’s strategic importance. The area’s Shia-majority population, often marginalized, became a pawn in the Saudi-Iran proxy war.
Here’s a twist: Bahrain’s west is sinking—literally. A 2023 study found that groundwater extraction and rising sea levels could submerge 30% of the region by 2050. The proposed "mega-island" projects near Al Jasra seem tone-deaf when fishermen in Muharraq already wade through flooded streets.
Crown Prince Salman’s "Bahrain Vision 2030" promises glitzy resorts along the western coast, but at what cost? Activists argue that burying Dilmun mounds to build golf courses is like erasing history for Instagram backdrops. Meanwhile, the U.S.-Iran nuclear stalemate looms over the Strait of Hormuz, just west of Bahrain’s shoreline.
China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) has its eyes on Bahrain’s ports, including Khalifa bin Salman Port in the west. Will this turn the region into a logistics hub—or a debt-trapped satellite of Beijing? The answer may lie in those 4,000-year-old trade routes.
From pearl divers to protestors, Bahrain’s west is a living archive of resilience. Its next chapter? That depends on whether the world sees it as a strategic pawn or a sovereign storyteller.