The renaissance of  Arabic typography, For decades, Arabic type design was restrained by the limits of the western matrix - but no more, By Razmig Bedirian

Every day, we are bombarded with typography. Typefaces swarm us across printed media, signposts, and billboards. They form the visual identities of brands, corporations and even cities.

Understandably, most people become so engrossed in the messages and information typefaces impart that they gloss over their particulars: the design choices that are often symptomatic of larger cultural struggles.

In the region’s process of cultural decolonisation, Arabic typography is a somewhat overlooked frontier. It is, however, one of the most pivotal and emblematic.

Iraqi calligrapher Wael Al Ramadan uses a stylus to produce a sample of Arabic calligraphy in his studio in Basra. AFP

Iraqi calligrapher Wael Al Ramadan uses a stylus to produce a sample of Arabic calligraphy in his studio in Basra. AFP

Typography and type design are often used interchangeably but there is an important distinction. Typefaces are a tool used in typography, which is the art of arranging type while accounting for point sizes, line lengths and spacing. The discipline of creating typefaces, meanwhile, is type design.

The development of Arabic type design was, for decades, pinioned by western tenets, as the practice had to adapt to imported technologies and aesthetic sensibilities. This led to language’s simplification. Arabic was pigeonholed into a matrix that stifled its lilt and flow. The intricacy of the language was whittled into dulled essentials. Regional designers did their best to give Arabic its due, but there was only so much they could do against technological limitations.

As the printing press was a western invention, significant compromises were needed to adapt the Arabic script to the metal type matrix. Photo: Khajag Apelian

As the printing press was a western invention, significant compromises were needed to adapt the Arabic script to the metal type matrix. Photo: Khajag Apelian

In the digital age, however, Arabic typography has been undergoing a “renaissance,” as Lebanese-Armenian designer Khajag Apelian, founder of Beirut-based studio Debakir, says. Designers have been aiming to reintroduce the richness and intricacy of the Arabic language, while accounting for the needs of the modern age.

The foundation of typography

To understand the development of Arabic type design requires a brief overview of the discipline’s emergence for Latin script with the printing press.

In the 15th century, Johannes Gutenberg, a German craftsman, invented the movable-type printing press, heralding a new era for the proliferation of the written word. With his invention, Gutenberg aimed to make books – specifically the Bible – available to wider masses, and also to make money for himself. Printing more books meant making more money. But to do that efficiently meant having to further standardise the Latin script.

German printer Johannes Gutenberg, who lived from around 1400 to 1468, invented the movable type printing press. Getty Images

German printer Johannes Gutenberg, who lived from around 1400 to 1468, invented the movable type printing press. Getty Images

Until the invention of the printing press, scripts came in as many forms as the hands that scribed them. Gutenberg aimed to instill a uniformity to the script to streamline the production process.

This was, of course, necessary due to how the technology functioned. Metal types were arranged in a matrix, applied with ink and pressed against paper with two plates, thus resulting in a printed page. The less varied metal type pieces were, the better. These metal types marked the advent of typography.

In early printing, metal blocks containing letters would be arranged, inked and pressed against sheets of paper to produce many copies. Getty Images

In early printing, metal blocks containing letters would be arranged, inked and pressed against sheets of paper to produce many copies. Getty Images

“Since then, there has been 700 years of development,” Apelian says, noting the slow and steady trickling of Latin script “between the pen and typeface design”.

In the context of the Arabic language, things were drastically different. Most of the development of Arabic type design has only unfurled over the past few decades. The discipline has undergone marked transformations in a significantly short span of time, especially when considering that in the West, they took place over centuries.

This is primarily due to the region’s hesitance in adopting the printing press, and the reasons for that partly lay within the sacred significance of the Arabic language.

Surat Al Isra, copied by 13th century calligrapher Yaqut Al Mustasimi in Muhaqqaq script with Kufic incidentals, in a Quran produced in Baghdad in 1282-3. Photo: The Khalili Collections

Surat Al Isra, copied by 13th century calligrapher Yaqut Al Mustasimi in Muhaqqaq script with Kufic incidentals, in a Quran produced in Baghdad in 1282-3. Photo: The Khalili Collections

“Writing has been a big part of the Arab, and particularly the Islamic, identity for a really long time,” Riem Ibrahim, an assistant professor at the American University of Sharjah and co-founder of Dubai-based Mobius Design Studio, says.

It is precisely this dignified nature of Arabic, however, that kept the Arab world from adopting the printing press. Arabic was sacred, being the language of the Quran, and those who worked with language had an elevated social position.

“Calligraphers or people that were able to create those scripts were extremely highly valued in the in the society generally,” Ibrahim says. “They were one of the nobles.”

Riem Ibrahim, associate professor of Visual Communication at the American University of Sharjah and co-founder of Mobius Design Studio. Photo: Riem Ibrahim

Riem Ibrahim, associate professor of Visual Communication at the American University of Sharjah and co-founder of Mobius Design Studio. Photo: Riem Ibrahim

A myriad of calligraphic forms emerged in the centuries after Islam was established in the seventh century. It was by no means a linear process. The foundation of the art form primarily lies in Baghdad in the Abbasid era, with Ibn Muqlah, in the early 10th century, being often hailed as the first great calligrapher. He proposed the six cursive scripts: naskh, thuluth, muhaqqaq, rayhani, tawqi, and riqaa. These would go largely unchanged for centuries. As caliphates rose and fell, and the Arabic script was adopted by the Persian and Ottoman empires, new calligraphy styles found form.

The six Arabic calligraphic cursive styles proposed by Ibn Muqlah: muhaqqaq, thuluth, rayhani, naskh, tawqi and riqaa

The six Arabic calligraphic cursive styles proposed by Ibn Muqlah: muhaqqaq, thuluth, rayhani, naskh, tawqi and riqaa

“One of the interesting facts about the evolution of calligraphy styles in the past was every new empire would have its own almost like signature calligraphy style, and that was a way to establish their status,” Ibrahim says.

However, an almost contradictory phenomenon was that even as new calligraphic styles emerged, experimentation was measured – precisely because Arabic was inextricable from the sacred. “Calligraphy was specifically linked to the Quran and the holy scripts, making it difficult for people to innovate,” Ibrahim says. This phenomenon has its echoes in the contemporary era as well.

The printing press arrives in the Middle East

As in the Latin script world, the Bible spearheaded the introduction of the printing press in the Middle East.

According to a 1982 essay by Arab specialist Fawzi Tadros, the first printing press in the region is believed to have been in Deir Qozhaya Monastery, in northern Lebanon. The monastery acquired the press in 1610 from Rome. However, it featured Syriac letters. Printing in Arabic would not begin until almost a century later.

Deir Qozhaya Monastery in northern Lebanon housed the Middle East's first printing press. Getty Images

Deir Qozhaya Monastery in northern Lebanon housed the Middle East's first printing press. Getty Images

“The first Arabic printing press was started in Syria in 1706,” Tadros writes. “But for political, economic, and other reasons, it was short-lived. In Lebanon, the first Arabic printing press was introduced in 1733 in Shuwayr by Abdallah Zakher, an acolyte and liturgical cantor in St John's Monastery [at Mount Lebanon].”

Again, the printing press was almost exclusively dedicated to printing the Bible, and its sphere of influence was limited. There were printing presses in the Ottoman Empire, for instance, but they were far and few. Most printed books that circulated in the empire were printed in Europe, even those in Turkish, Farsi, Armenian and Arabic. Generally, printed books were viewed with some negativity, as Ottoman intellectuals favoured the aesthetics and ornamentation of handwritten books.

A Bible printed in Arabic and Latin, in the Sisters of Nazareth Convent in Nazareth, northern Israel. Getty Images

A Bible printed in Arabic and Latin, in the Sisters of Nazareth Convent in Nazareth, northern Israel. Getty Images

“In fact, it was European punch cutters who created the Arabic metal type,” Apelian says. “Metal type is a matrix conceived for Latin [letters]. The Arabic script was adapted to fit this matrix.”

Printing presses began gaining traction in the region following the region’s colonisation by the West. In Egypt, it was Napoleon’s army that brought the technology to the country in 1798, albeit with propaganda in mind.

A lithograph of Napoleon in Egypt viewing a mummy. From a painting by Maurice Orange. Getty Images

A lithograph of Napoleon in Egypt viewing a mummy. From a painting by Maurice Orange. Getty Images

“Napoleon's printing presses in Egypt were to fulfill two important functions,” Tadros writes in his 1982 essay. “First, they disseminated French learning, culture, and ideas, while acquainting both Europeans and the natives with the long-forgotten Egyptian heritage and traditions. Secondly, the presses were used as a useful means of propaganda informing the Egyptians of Napoleon's projects and interests in an effort to win their support against Turkey.”

However, Egypt’s concentrated implementation of the technology came under the rule of Muhammad Ali Pasha, who established the Amiri Press in Cairo’s Bulaq neighborhood in 1821. The press published its first book a year later, an Arabic–Italian dictionary by Syrian priest Anton Zakhur Rafail. The press primarily focused on military books at first, but then expanded its output to include titles in literature, science and textbooks.

Muhammad Ali became Pasha of Egypt after recovering the country from French occupation under Napoleon in the early 1800s. Photo: Bibliotheca Alexandrina

Muhammad Ali became Pasha of Egypt after recovering the country from French occupation under Napoleon in the early 1800s. Photo: Bibliotheca Alexandrina

Nevertheless, the imported printing press was still very much a western device, and significant compromises needed to adapt the Arabic script to the metal type matrix.

“There are some features that the Arabic script has that got lost within the metal type environment,” Apelian says. “Arabic was made to fit in an environment that was foreign to the script, in terms of connectivity, the richness of the shapes, the forms, the way they need to sit together.”

Staff work on the presses at a printing plant in Rabat, Morocco, believed to be in 1899. Getty Images

Staff work on the presses at a printing plant in Rabat, Morocco, believed to be in 1899. Getty Images

Printing presses became even more prevalent in the region in the 20th century, when most of the Arab world came under colonial rule.

“It was actually introduced to these countries by the colonisers, because there was a need for kind of getting the press to the people, to communicate with the masses,” Ibrahim says. “They worked on introducing these technologies to the Arab world. They identified people and designers who could figure out ways to allow the printing press to also accommodate the Arabic language, which was extremely challenging. In many ways, this simplified the very rich calligraphic styles that we were used to,” she adds.

The simplification of Arabic

"There were multiple attempts to simplify the Arabic type […] to get to a number that is manageable for printing. There was also a simplification of form,” says Ibrahim.

This simplification is perhaps best understood in numerical terms. English is one of the easiest languages to deal with, as it has 26 letters segmented into uppercase and lowercase. Other Latin scripts, such as French, add another dimension of intricacy with diacritics.

But the set amount of letters largely remain unchanged in Latin scripts, making it easy to set it on page using metal type.

Some Arabic letters have up to five variations, depending on their use in a word, compared to the standard two (upper and lowercase) in the English alphabet

Some Arabic letters have up to five variations, depending on their use in a word, compared to the standard two (upper and lowercase) in the English alphabet

In Arabic, however, each of the 29 letters in the Arabic alphabet has multiple versions, depending on their placement. Then there are vocalisation marks, as well as diacritics to contend with. The Arabic script is also used for languages like Urdu or Persian, with added diacritics that add another layer of intricacy.

“A typical metal type for a Latin typeface is [divided into] uppercase and lowercase,” Apelian says. “[In English], that’s 26 characters multiplied by two, adding punctuation marks and numbers. In Arabic, there are some 300 characters.”

Arabic type can increase in complexity depending on the inclusion of diacritics and details that assist with pronunciation

Arabic type can increase in complexity depending on the inclusion of diacritics and details that assist with pronunciation

Presses in the early-to-mid 20th century worked to actively reduce the number of metal type they had to work with, reducing the number, Apelian says, to around 160 characters.

In 1936, a conference was held at the Academy of the Arabic Language in Cairo that would mark the first major reform of the script since Ibn Muqlah. The conference saw a need to standardise the transliteration of non-Arabic names. New diacritic dots were added to account for letters that didn’t exist in Arabic, such as “v”. Two years later, the academy spearheaded a wider reform. They saw a need to confront illiteracy in the Arab world. The goal was to print more books that would make the Arabic language more accessible. However, printing more books necessitated the standardisation of typefaces to accelerate production. As such, the academy began looking at proposals on how to go about this.

In some proposals, Latin letters were also appropriated to resemble Arabic counterparts. The letter m’ for instance was flipped to resemble the Arabic letter seen . The o was used in lieu of the letter ha”.

Besides that, there was also the vertical and horizontal movement of the language to consider. Calligraphers often used a stacked approach when scribing Arabic words. The language moved with a mesmerising quality. This couldn’t be done on metal type. “Arabic was never on a straight baseline,” Apelian says. “It was always on a slanted baseline. That got lost in the metal type.”

However, in the latter half of the 20th century, the newspaper industry within the Arab world found interesting ways to navigate some of the limitations of metal type, particularly when it came to headlines and advertisements While the bodies of texts were printed, headlines and titles would be handwritten. The typefaces used were largely uniform and fell under a group that are referred to as Eilani Arabic, or advertising Arabic.

The founders of Asharq Al Awsat newspaper in London inspect a front page in 1980. Getty Images

The founders of Asharq Al Awsat newspaper in London inspect a front page in 1980. Getty Images

A western point of comparison would be considering the font the Middle East’s version of the functional Helvetica font. Helvetica is a sans-serif font – literally a font without ornate serifs, strokes that are attached to the end of another stroke. It dates from the 1950s, though precursors go back to the previous century.

“The style of Helvetica happened right after the Industrial Revolution,” Apelian says. “There was a need to shout, to say ‘I have this product.’ They were called the Grotesques. It was not seen as a good typeface.

“I showed [Eilani Arabic] to a calligrapher once, and he said we call this the ‘ugly naskh’,” Apelian says, noting its similarity with Grotesque typefaces.

Typeface variations inspired by Ibn Muqla's naskh calligraphy. Photo: Khajag Apelian

Typeface variations inspired by Ibn Muqla's naskh calligraphy. Photo: Khajag Apelian

“But it was not supposed to be good calligraphy,” he adds. “It has a lot of things that typography requires, in the sense that it's about making the best use of space to communicate something. To fit more information in one title. It was designed for practical reasons.”

Another interesting chapter in the development of Arabic type design and typography came at the hand of Arab artists designing for publications. Moroccan artist Mohammed Chabaa, for instance, was as known for his graphic design output as he was for his art. Along with other artists within The Casablanca Art School, Chabaa produced posters in solidarity with those in Palestine, Angola, Chile, as well as works that advertised exhibitions by CAS artists. The posters featured stunning and idiosyncratic examples of Arabic typography.

A display of work from The Casablanca Art School, including that of Mohammed Chabaa, at Sharjah Art Foundation. Photo: Motaz Mawid

A display of work from The Casablanca Art School, including that of Mohammed Chabaa, at Sharjah Art Foundation. Photo: Motaz Mawid

Ibrahim notes that we are now just brushing the surface of the history of Arabic typography. “We were under this delusion that we were actually trying to catch up,” she says. “We are coming to learn that designers of the 1900s were super experimental. The type that we would see in magazines, like the ones that emerged in Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq would be classified today as experimental such as the work produced by The Casablanca Art School.”

Arabic typeface design in the digital age

Many of the challenges that Middle Eastern designers had to wrestle with in the metal-type era were also prominent in the digital age. Computers had broken down many limitations that metal-type imposed, but software was still very much founded on their principles.

“The base of the of the software is still based on the metal type,” Apelian says. “Basically, you have a box, and you need to put the letter inside the box, which is reminiscent of the metal type system. If we're going to go very philosophical, this is already a very western-centric platform for me to develop Arabic. But I’ve made my peace with it. This is how the system is, let's start to make the best out of it while things were being developed.”

Arabic letters on metal type used in printing. Photo: Khajag Apelian

Arabic letters on metal type used in printing. Photo: Khajag Apelian

In the early days of the computer, many designers were West-centric, and tried to impose Latin parameters to the Arabic language. Much like in the days of the metal-type, designers appropriated Latin letters, rotating flipping and cropping designs to make them Arabic.

This perhaps is most potently observed in what designers refer to as Frankenstein Arabic, a term coined by Lebanese type designer Nadine Chahine.

Nadine Chahine is considered a pioneer in Arabic typography. Antonie Robertson / The National

Nadine Chahine is considered a pioneer in Arabic typography. Antonie Robertson / The National

At the turn of the century, as global corporations moved to open across the Arab world, they sought to fit the language within their branding. These included media organisations, such as CNN Arabic and Cartoon Network; restaurants chains, such as Subway; and perhaps most notably fashion brands, such as River Island, Armani and Dior.

Arabic type has been adapted to suit existing branding for many international companies with a presence in the Arab world. Alamy

Arabic type has been adapted to suit existing branding for many international companies with a presence in the Arab world. Alamy

“So, what designers used to do is they would take the English [language] brands, they would cut it up, and then attempt to construct the Arabic using bits and pieces,” Ibrahim says. “In that sense, it was extremely disrespectful to Arabic typography. It was always about compromising Arabic like, as if the language has no integrity, no essence. As if there were no rules to designing Arabic.”

While remnants of this approach are still visible today, such frankensteining is largely frowned upon now. If anything, it was a gross misuse of the language that preceded the golden age Arabic type design.

Current role of new software

Even in the 2000s, software such as Adobe Illustrator were not equipped to design Arabic fonts.

“Software did not allow for a seamless production that accounted for the intricacies and functionality of the Arabic script,” Apelian says. “A lot of times one software wouldn’t do the job, and we needed different software to do, for example, the vocalisation marks and kerning.”

However, as new technologies have emerged, including OpenType, designers from the Arab world and its diaspora have come to find ways to design more appropriately for Arabic. Software such as ACE (Arabic Calligraphic Engine) has also been introduced, which allow for more functionality and flexibility. However, they have yet to break into mainstream use.

IBM Plex Sans Arabic, designed by Khajag Apelian and Wael Morcos, displayed in Adobe Fonts. Photo: Adobe Fonts

IBM Plex Sans Arabic, designed by Khajag Apelian and Wael Morcos, displayed in Adobe Fonts. Photo: Adobe Fonts

“There is now software that gives the designers the liberty to honour the proportions and the guidelines of Arabic, to help us get back to the richness of the language,” Ibrahim says.

Apelian echoes this sentiment, saying that a driving force is “to go back to our roots and respect the integrity of the Arabic script”.

The aim, Apelian stresses, is not to recreate calligraphy, but to be inspired by it. In fact, many contemporary Arabic typefaces hark back to calligraphic scripts. While Latin typefaces are segmented into serif and sans serif fonts, Arabic designs are generally categorised as fluid/cursive and solid/rigid.

Typefaces belonging in former take their cues from scripts such as thuluth, naskh or nastaliq, for instance. And though two fonts can both be claim inspiration from one style, they are each rendered uniquely. Solid/rigid typefaces, meanwhile, can be traced to the angular and rectilinear designs of Kufic scripts - the earliest style of handwritten Arabic used to record the Quran - and yet again are varied in their own right.

A scroll fragment of the Quran from the eighth or ninth century, during the Abbasid period, written in Kufic style calligraphy. Getty Images

A scroll fragment of the Quran from the eighth or ninth century, during the Abbasid period, written in Kufic style calligraphy. Getty Images

“These are the names of calligraphic styles that typefaces are, let's say, inspired by,” Apelian says. “But if you look at a true thuluth or nastaliq, it’s far from the typographic version.”

Apelian says that with new software, there has been an energetic change of perspective into how designers approach the creation of new Arabic typefaces. He gives a glimpse by delving into his own design process.

When designing a typeface inspired by a calligraphic style, he says he tries to look at its essence, proportions and rhythm. “I try to strip down to the basic essence of the script,” he says.

When commissioned to develop an Arabic typeface to act as counterpart to a Latin font, he says he doesn’t tap into the philosophy of the original font, instead building the Arabic version from the ground up, such as with IBM Plex, which he co-created with Lebanese designer Wael Morcos.

Lebanese graphic designer and type designer Wael Morcos has produced several typefaces with Khajag Apelian. Photo: Wael Morcos

Lebanese graphic designer and type designer Wael Morcos has produced several typefaces with Khajag Apelian. Photo: Wael Morcos

The designers also collaborated in creating a unique cursive Arabic font, they dubbed Lyon Arabic. The font can be viewed as the Arabic counterpart to the famous typeface designed by German-born designer Kai Bernau. Lyon Arabic applies many of the original’s classical Renaissance aesthetic tenets, but in a way that also touches upon Arabic calligraphic approaches.

Ibrahim says the font is her “go-to” whenever she needs to use an italic Arabic typeface. Of course, Arabic has no italics, but as Apelian and Morcos devised the two cursive fonts under Lyon Arabic, they sought to dedicate one of them to address this gap. “What we did is to create this italic font by using information from styles that have a slant naturally in calligraphy,” Apelian says.

Lyon Arabic Display, a typeface designed by Khajag Apelian and Wael Morcos, appears almost italicised. Photo: Khajag Apelian

Lyon Arabic Display, a typeface designed by Khajag Apelian and Wael Morcos, appears almost italicised. Photo: Khajag Apelian

The golden age of Arabic type design

Over the past two decades, Lebanese designers have been at the forefront of this shift that sought to reinstate the dignity of the Arabic language in typography. They include Nadine Chahine, Pascal Zoghbi, Kristyan Sarkis, Morcos, and Apelian.

Kristyan Sarkis is a type designer and lettering artist from Lebanon based in the Netherlands. Photo: Kristyan Sarkis

Kristyan Sarkis is a type designer and lettering artist from Lebanon based in the Netherlands. Photo: Kristyan Sarkis

However, the movement is now gaining traction right across the Arab world.

“There has been movement of decolonisation, that has been sweeping the region, and you can really see its effects right now,” Ibrahim says. “People, particularly artists and designers, have been waking up to the delusion that we’ve been living in: that the West is the benchmark, that their ideologies are the ones that we should aspire for.”

This movement is not only looking forward, but is also looking back – not to the calligraphic tradition – but rather to the 20th century typographic practices in the Arab world, on which there is little study and documentation.

Even in modern software, Arabic has to account for the Western matrix that came as a result of the printing press but designers are working to free Arabic type from these restrictions. Photo: Khajag Apelian

Even in modern software, Arabic has to account for the Western matrix that came as a result of the printing press but designers are working to free Arabic type from these restrictions. Photo: Khajag Apelian

“The problem that we have faced that is non-existent in the West is that because of the consistent turmoil in the region, we have very little documentation of the visual culture,” Ibrahim says. “We don’t have proper archives. Even the archives that exist institutionally are not well kept.”

Nevertheless, the future is promising. One testament to this is the Arabic typography course that has been offered at AUS since 2020, and which manifested as a direct result of a student petition.

Experimental Arabic fonts produced by students of the American University of Sharjah on display at Dubai Design Week in 2021. Photo: Riem Ibrahim

Experimental Arabic fonts produced by students of the American University of Sharjah on display at Dubai Design Week in 2021. Photo: Riem Ibrahim

“When the school realised that there was such a big demand, it became a permanent part of the curriculum, so that it is not just one course, but with an advanced offering, as well as a lettering iteration,” Ibrahim says. The American University of Beirut started this way earlier than Sharjah. They have a more established kind of permanent part of their curriculum dedicated to working with Arabic type design.”

This demand comes as a refreshing change of attitude, Ibrahim says, especially when comparing to the time when she was a design student. “As a design student in the past, we were scared of Arabic type because it has this very strong connection to sacredness,” she says.

This lack of confidence among Arab designers to work in Arabic script has been slowly giving way, she adds, and there is a marked enthusiasm among youth to explore new frontiers of Arabic typography.

Khajag Apelian is founder of the Beirut-based studio Debakir. Photo: Khajag Apelian

Khajag Apelian is founder of the Beirut-based studio Debakir. Photo: Khajag Apelian

Apelian agrees, saying there is no better time to take up the mantle than now. “There's so much there's so much room to play and experiment,” he says. “Nothing is set in concrete. How you take the written form of the Arabic language and adapt it into the contemporary realm is really up to you as a designer. There is no right or wrong. But what what you need to understand the history and what has been developed.”

Perhaps the primary challenge that future designers face is slowly helping the public more familiar with typefaces that were designed according to western tenets and technological limitations. The struggle is in making changes to do the Arabic language justice, without jarring the public eye.

“Over the past 40 years or 50 years, the reader got used to some things that are considered not good, because of the technology that has affected the script. But they've accepted it and now if we don't do it that way, they're going to find that strange,” says Apelian.

Words Razmig Beridian
Editor Juman Jarallah
Photo Editor James O'Hara and Olive Obina
Photos Unsplash, AFP, Khajag Apelian, Khatt Foundation
Design and illustrations Deepak Fernandez
Sub Editor Donald MacPhail