In 1891, the American portrait artist John Singer Sargent painted Bedouin Women Carrying Water Jars. The scene he depicts, three veiled Arab women holding clay jars above their heads as they walk, would have been completely unremarkable in the Arab world at the time – indeed, unremarkable in many rural areas of the region even today.
But in the Middle East’s cities, as in much of the rest of the world, the water jar has been replaced in the past century with modern plastic bottles and industrial water storage units on rooftops. The ubiquity of these rooftop storage units in the region’s urban skylines, for instance, and the role they play in the household, can even be seen as a cultural expression of the relationship between its cities and their water supply.
Middle Eastern countries are some of the most water-scarce in the world. This partly shapes their relationships with each other and the international community, too. Modern water infrastructure, from the rooftop storage units to larger infrastructure like dams, aquifers and water treatment plants, are a vital part of daily life.

But like plastic water bottles, we know that not all modern water infrastructure in the region has been sustainable, or used sustainably. The clay jars of Sargent’s painting remind us of the historical, nature-based solutions to dealing with water scarcity used in the area throughout history. And they might even help to inspire solutions for the future. There is great potential for more effective infrastructure and sustainable behaviours, inspired by history, to enable the survivability of harsh landscapes.
The Fertile Crescent and the Levant gave rise to some of the world’s earliest civilisations. The world’s oldest loaf of bread, baked 14,500 years ago, was discovered at the edge of the Crescent, in north-eastern Jordan. Wheat growing still holds cultural significance in the region, but poor historical urban planning, desertification and a shrinking water supply mean it is increasingly difficult for urban, rural, settled and nomadic communities to supply their own needs. In Jordan today, for instance, it is often cheaper to buy imported bread.
The bread of the region thousands of years ago was baked – and the wheat it was made of grown – in an altogether different world. Archaeological sites show us that the Fertile Crescent’s thriving ancient civilisations developed varied and often interconnected water infrastructures to mitigate risks that are still common today, like flash flooding and the desertification of arable land.
Another, a more famous Jordanian archaeological site, Petra, has flooded several times in recent years, notably in 2018 and 2022. But those who initially developed the ancient city knew what they were doing. Archaeologists have mapped an interconnected water infrastructure system developed over centuries, and have worked to restore the terracing systems that previously protected Petra from flash flood damage.
North of the Azraq Basin, meanwhile, which is still home to small villages and Bedouin communities, wadi walls or barrages were constructed in the Neolithic period, more than 6,000 years ago, to redirect floodwater to agricultural lands. In the Bronze Age, more than 3,000 years ago, inhabitants of Jawa – Jordan’s oldest site of urban development – built an extensive hydraulic system to capture winter rainfall runoff, redirecting it to manmade reservoirs or cisterns.
Not all ancient or historical examples are helpful in today’s context. Wells are an example. Before the 1950s, Levantine cities were still small and largely supplied by neighbouring springs. The water sources that feed local rivers had not yet been dammed or diverted, and neighbouring countries required less water than they do today.
These factors contributed to reducing groundwater levels, which were further exacerbated by modern patterns of well drilling. Today, illegal well drilling and associated tanker water deliveries threaten the ability to supply water to the population.
But other ancient practices are making a comeback for the better. The Covid-19 pandemic enabled a revival of home gardening in many urban areas as both a relaxing hobby and a low-cost form of food production. Captured and stored rainwater offers a convenient supply for home gardens without pressuring the freshwater supply.
Historical sites and practices help us to make sense of what the regional culture and landscape were once like but can also inspire us to think about the balance between state and individual contributions to water management. That is important as the region’s environment continues to change. Former agricultural lands are becoming increasingly arid, with some countries’ former lush, green landscapes now a figment of living memory.

Many of the successes of the past came out of a shared understanding between the leaders of the time, who directed the construction of innovative infrastructures that improved water access and managed flood risks, and individuals who recognised how their engagements with water and the environment either enabled or hindered their lives.
In the 20th century, the opportunity to use new technologies to maximise water production may have helped drive economic development, but also distorted our cultural relationship with water and, in the long term, may have obscured the wider picture of water security. We might now consider that period of poorly controlled water consumption as a cultural recession of sorts.
But now, more countries’ leaders and citizens alike agree on the need for stability in resource management, and are looking to understand how localised approaches to water management were the foundation of the ancient civilisations that the region is so proud of today. We may soon see a period of revival in many parts of the region’s cultural relationship with water. And that will be critical for a more water-secure future.