Nestled along Tunisia’s southeastern coast, Gabès has long been a strategic prize for Mediterranean powers. Unlike the tourist-heavy north, this region’s history reveals uncomfortable truths about resource exploitation and geopolitical chess games that still resonate today.
Before Carthage dominated headlines, Gabès (then called Tacape) was a Phoenician trading post as early as 900 BCE. Archaeologists recently uncovered evidence of purple dye workshops—the same Tyrian purple that clothed Roman emperors. This discovery challenges the narrative that Carthage monopolized Mediterranean trade, suggesting Gabès was an early victim of historical erasure by dominant powers.
During the 16th century Ottoman reign, Gabès became a smuggling hub for the Barbary corsairs. European captives described it as "where the desert meets stolen riches." Local oral histories speak of Janissaries secretly trading European weapons to Saharan caravans—an early example of arms trafficking that foreshadowed modern Libya’s black markets.
The 20th century brought industrial-scale exploitation. French colonizers established North Africa’s first phosphate processing plants in Gabès during the 1930s, poisoning the coastline with radioactive byproducts. Today, satellite images show the Gulf of Gabès has 40% less marine biodiversity than adjacent waters—a stark case of environmental racism rarely discussed in climate justice circles.
While history books focus on Tunisia’s northern campaign, Gabès hosted covert operations that shaped the war’s outcome:
Declassified documents reveal Churchill nearly authorized chemical weapon use in Gabès to stop Rommel’s retreat—a decision that could have rewritten post-war environmental history.
Independent Tunisia’s 1970s agricultural policies transformed Gabès into the nation’s "chemical breadbasket." Government-subsidized fertilizers created:
| Year | Phosphate Production | Reported Birth Defects |
|------|----------------------|------------------------|
| 1980 | 2.1 million tons | 12 cases |
| 2000 | 4.7 million tons | 87 cases |
| 2020 | 3.9 million tons | 143 cases |
Whistleblower doctors claim real numbers are higher, drawing parallels to Flint’s water crisis—except Gabès’ pollution continues unabated due to EU fertilizer demand.
While Tunis became the revolution’s poster child, Gabès saw the first environmental protests of 2010. Factory occupations by unemployed graduates presaged the wider uprising, yet post-revolution governments maintained the toxic status quo. The city’s 2023 chlordecone scandal—where banned pesticides were found in olive oil exports—shows how colonial-era extraction models persist under new management.
Gabès’ crumbling economy has made it a departure point for Mediterranean crossings. But unlike Sfax, its migrant stories remain untold:
Local activists argue this exodus isn’t just about poverty—it’s ecological refugees fleeing a man-made disaster.
Recent discoveries of offshore gas have attracted new predators. Italy’s ENI and France’s TotalEnergies are replicating colonial-era patterns:
The bitter irony? Gabès could power Europe while its residents endure daily blackouts.
Amid the devastation, Gabès’ culinary traditions became acts of defiance:
Boukha de Poisson
This fermented fish sauce—once a Phoenician staple—is being revived by chefs using invasive species that survived the pollution. It’s now served in Tunisian embassy dinners as a subtle protest.
Date Leaf Sushi
Innovative fishermen wrap Mediterranean catches in palm leaves to avoid toxic metal contamination, creating an accidental fusion cuisine that’s gone viral on TikTok.
These adaptations reveal how Gabès’ people write their own history through survival—one meal at a time.
As global semiconductor shortages continue, Gabès’ phosphate reserves have gained strategic importance. The U.S. Department of Defense recently classified Tunisia’s phosphates as "critical minerals," raising fears of:
Local hackers have begun disrupting mining software—a 21st-century twist on anti-colonial resistance.
Gabès faces a perfect storm of environmental threats:
Scientists warn Gabès could become the first "sacrifice zone" of the climate era—a cautionary tale for Global South nations.
Historians are racing to preserve Gabès’ endangered memory:
This cultural salvage operation might be Gabès’ most vital industry—one that trades in truth rather than extraction.
As geopolitical tensions reshape the Mediterranean, Gabès stands as both warning and witness. Its layered history of exploitation and resilience offers uncomfortable lessons about how the world manufactures peripheries—and how those peripheries fight back.