Postcard from Tunis: Why silversmiths remain a precious national commodity

The creations of Tunisia's silversmiths hold a special place in its society, serving not only as an indicator of wealth or status but also as a reflection of the many civilisations that contributed to its culture over thousands of years.

Handcrafted pieces by these traditional artisans – from the ubiquitous hand-shaped pendants known as khomsa, believed to be capable of warding off the evil eye, to the yaz symbol of the Amazigh and the rayhanna necklace worn by most Tunisian women – continue to hold their own against modern, mass-produced designs.

“We are preserving this craft because it is our country’s patrimony and reflects the civilisations that crossed throughout its history,” says Chiheb Ben Jaballah, 70, whose father and grandfather were also silversmiths.

Mr Ben Jaballah says Tunisian women have always considered the ownership of silver items as a source of pride, even after gold became more widely available in the market.

“Brides who come from wealthy families used to leave their family home with at least 18 jewellery pieces made of silver on their wedding gown, as well as 22 items such as a mirror, hair comb, bath kettle and pail. All of it needs to be made of silver with special engravings,” he said.

History and authenticity

Working from a small shop in the western Tunis suburb of Denden, Mr Ben Jaballah is also the last artisan in Tunisia to still specialise in the art of making and engraving swords and daggers whose designs date back to periods in the country's history when it was under the control of the Carthaginians, Amazigh and Andalusians.

“Each of these pieces symbolises something according to its size, shape and engravings. Those intricate details tell you about the specific era they come from,” he said.

While size and patterns vary from one region to another in Tunisia, characteristics such as symbols and shapes that continue to resist time and change are from the Amazigh, North Africa’s indigenous inhabitants who remain its most predominant ethnic group.

Mr Jaballah not only continues the traditional engraving methods taught by his father, but does so using tools he makes himself.

“All of the tools you see here I have created myself for each pattern I carve; they cannot be ordered from any other place and I am the only one that knows how to create them,” he says.

None of Mr Ben Jaballah's children inherited his passion for working silver, so he began mentoring and teaching young artisans amid concern that his family heritage would disappear.

Among them is Wissal Khammassi, a doctoral student in the art of history, who first met Mr Jaballah as an undergraduate in 2008 and has since become one of his most loyal students and friends.

“It all started as a personal passion as I loved creating my own jewellery,” Ms Khammassi says.

“I would drop by after my university classes every day and Mr Chiheb would teach me how to handle the basic materials, both silver and copper, and how to engrave them to create both traditional pieces or techniques through which I could create my own designs.”

Today, Ms Khammassi is skilled enough to make jewellery, with her own touch that appeals to older generations and her peers.

“I would take these traditional models and add my own twist through incorporating things like amber or semi-precious natural stones,” she says.

Teaching the next generation

“We are trying to evolve the craft so that it does not disappear and maintains its charm for people to continue buying,” Mr Ben Jaballah says.

“Crafts are part of our intangible patrimony and are important both economically and culturally. I personally love this craft so much. It is part of our identity – for example, whoever sees you wearing a Khomsa or Rayhanna would instantly know you are Tunisian, you do not even need to speak.”

The skills of Tunisia's silversmiths was recognised by UN cultural agency Unesco in December, when it listed the engraving of metals such as copper and gold in 10 Arab countries on its Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity list.

As is the case with her teacher, Ms Khammassi is trying to inculcate a love for this heritage by organising workshops for children. However, she fears the interest is not wide enough to ensure that all of Mr Ben Jaballah's knowledge and techniques will be passed on.

“Unfortunately, lots of these specific patterns are facing the risk of disappearance as many young people are no longer interested in this craft. I myself could not learn all of it due to how hard it is,” she says.