Arabia has been famously fragrant since ancient times, writes Juliet Highet, thanks to the luxury trade in frankincense
PHOTOGRAPHY JULIET HIGHET
It is one of the oldest luxuries known to man.
Its fragrant white smoke was spiralling upwards in Sumerian temples 4,500 years ago. For millennia, frankincense – a resin derived from beneath the bark of scrubby little trees that grow in arid, semi-desert regions either side of the Gulf of Aden – was as important to the economy of Arabia as oil is today. During the time of the Roman Empire, at the height of the trade, Oman was called Arabia Felix, “Fortunate Arabia”, thanks in part to its abundance of the coveted incense. Three thousand tons of the stuff were exported annually from Dhofar to Rome alone.
Frankincense was the foundation of the international multi-billion pound perfume industry – the word “perfume” comes from the Latin per fumum, meaning “through smoke” – but it was far from just a pleasing smell. It also symbolised divinity. It was believed the perfumed smoke, as it rose, took the prayers of the people to the gods. In ancient Egypt, the unguent derived from the gum resin was used cosmetically against ageing, while in the traditional medicine of many cultures – from North Africa to China – frankincense was considered efficacious against plague, leprosy, meningitis and a raft of other serious conditions.
But hauling frankincense from southern Arabia to markets elsewhere was exorbitantly expensive. Merchants travelled thousands of miles across vast, inhospitable terrains of desert and mountains to reach Alexandria on Egypt’s Mediterranean coast, embarkation point for Europe. Along the way, they incurred expenses for accommodation, food and camel fodder, as well as for protection money to local chieftains and gratuities to temple priests. As a result, frankincense was, literally, worth its weight in gold.
The visit, in the 10th century BC, of the Queen of Sheba, from her Sabean Empire in today’s Yemen, to King Solomon was almost certainly to secure an agreement on trade in frankincense and myrrh that was advantageous to both parties. Sheba’s stunning wealth depended on control of this trade along the so-called “Incense Route”. The great Nabatean valley culture of Petra grew rich too, by control of the route passing through what is now southern Jordan.
After Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire in the 4th century AD, the use of incense burnt on altars declined. But, even today, many rural Arab homes are still censed at sunrise and sunset to keep away insects and protect those inside against evil spirits. In lands traditionally short of water, clothes and bed linen are stretched over a special frame and censed. A Dhofari woman who blends incense, a skill taught by her mother, told me “women drink frankincense water to help deliver babies when they won’t come out and, after the birth, mother and new born baby are constantly censed.”
Frankincense also remains a central constituent in the production of perfumes: it is an ingredient in 13 per cent of up-market female scents – and three per cent of male – both as a sensual, woody, yet fresh, base note and as a fixative. Recently, major-brand Western companies have also been taking a leaf out of the ancient Egyptian’s book and marketing skincare products containing frankincense.
There may be other, more significant, uses for the ancient resin. Frankincense has been found to possess natural monoterpenes, which have antiseptic, anti-inflammatory and astringent properties. It has been traditionally used in the Indian Ayurvedic system of medicine, notably for control of rheumatoid and osteoarthritis. Research trials in India and the USA suggest frankincense might also be effective in the treatment of cervical cancer and tumours.
Unfortunately, production of frankincense in Oman – the ancient heart of the trade and source of the finest quality resin – is in terminal decline. The twin causes are over-exploitation and cheaper exports from Somalia, Ethiopia and India. Much of what is now collected in the annual spring “harvests” is largely for local consumption and it fills the markets throughout Oman. The native people still spend heavily on their scents – splashing out hundreds of dollars on perfumes for special occasions such as weddings.
The age-old trade is also a major contributor to the tourism industry. Recently, UNESCO named a group of archaeological sites in Dhofar, southern Oman, as World Heritage Sites on the grounds that they “represent the production and distribution of frankincense, one of the most important luxury items of trade in the Old World in antiquity”. The recently opened Muscat ShangriLa resort also boasts a spa offering frankincense-and-rose body wraps and tourists can buy a beautifully packaged gift pack at the Frankincense Souk in Salalah for the equivalent of about US$20.
Seventy-year-old Musallam Rehaba, who used to collect the resin from which frankincense is made, told me none of his sons or grandsons have followed him into the trade. “It’s barely a living and the labour’s so hard,” he says. Instead, the young men of Dhofar prefer to dive for the more lucrative marine snails, abalone, which are exported to Southeast Asia. In a two-month season, a diver can earn US$50,000, whereas the annual harvest for frankincense nets about US$150.
Juliet Highet is the author of the recently published Frankincense: Oman’s Gift to the World
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