Arabic - Text.com Page
In a cramped office overlooking the bustling streets of downtown Beirut, a small team of linguists, developers, and calligraphers is trying to solve a problem that has haunted the Arabic language for two decades. The problem isn’t a lack of speakers—Arabic boasts over 420 million native speakers and holds official status in 22 countries. Nor is it a lack of heritage—from pre-Islamic poetry to the golden age of science, Arabic has long been a language of precision and art.
“You open the same news article on three different phones,” says Leila Haddad, the 34-year-old founder of , “and the letters break, the kashida (tatweel) vanishes, and the hamza floats in the wrong place. We’ve accepted a broken digital mirror for too long.”
“I used to spend hours manually reordering broken Arabic product descriptions on our e-commerce site,” says Ahmed R., a backend engineer from Dubai. “Now I run them through Arabic-Text.com’s API. It’s not a luxury. It’s infrastructure.” No discussion of Arabic text is complete without tashkeel —the small marks above and below letters that indicate short vowels. Most Arabic writing omits them, assuming native readers will infer pronunciation. But for learners, the Qur’an, legal documents, or poetry, diacritics are non-negotiable.
Arabic-Text.com began as a simple web form. Paste garbled text in, get clean Unicode out. But users quickly demanded more. Students wanted to strip tashkeel for readability. Poets wanted to add it back for precision. Transliterators needed to convert between Arabic script and Latin-based Arabizi (e.g., "7abiby" for "حبيبي"). Editors needed to reverse strings that had been mangled by left-to-right software. Arabic - Text.com
On a recent afternoon, Haddad received an email from a retired schoolteacher in Morocco. He had used the platform to digitize his late wife’s handwritten recipe book, adding tashkeel so his grandchildren could read the vowels.
“Thank you,” he wrote, “for making my language legible again.”
“We realized we weren’t just building a tool,” says Haddad. “We were building a .” II. Beyond Utility – The Aesthetic Turn What sets Arabic-Text.com apart from command-line scripts or GitHub repositories is its obsession with beauty . In a cramped office overlooking the bustling streets
Arabic-Text.com’s is its crown jewel. Unlike older tools that simply inserted random fatha/damma/kasra , this engine uses a bidirectional LSTM model trained on a 10-million-word corpus of fully vowelized classical and modern texts. It achieves 94% accuracy—higher than any open-source alternative.
By Nora Al-Mansouri
“My parents speak Arabic at home, but I never learned to type it,” says Samia, a 22-year-old user from Michigan. “Arabic-Text.com lets me write ‘keefak’ in Latin letters, and it converts it into ‘كيفك’ in proper script. Then I can copy it into a text to my grandmother. That’s huge.” “You open the same news article on three
Moreover, monetization is delicate. “We will never paywall the core text tools,” Haddad insists. “Arabic belongs to everyone. We make money from API calls, font licensing, and enterprise support. The web-based converter is a public good.”
Launched quietly in late 2023, Arabic-Text.com has grown from a niche tool for typographers into a full-fledged ecosystem for Arabic text processing, conversion, and aesthetic rendering. But to understand its rise, you have to understand the quiet crisis it addresses. Right-to-left (RTL) scripts have always been the ugly stepchildren of the early internet. While Latin characters enjoyed ASCII stability, Arabic letters—with their four contextual forms (isolated, initial, medial, final) and reliance on diacritics ( tashkeel )—often broke in databases, emails, and basic text files.
(End of feature)
“We don’t claim perfection,” Haddad admits. “Arabic has too many exceptions. But we do claim to save hours of manual markup.” One of the platform’s most controversial features is Arabizi ↔ Arabic Script conversion . Some purists see Arabizi (writing Arabic with Latin numbers, e.g., 3 for ‘ain, 7 for ح) as a corruption. But for diaspora youth, it’s a lifeline.