A Journey to the World’s Smallest Butterfly (before it goes extinct)

Feature

A Journey to the World’s Smallest Butterfly (before it goes extinct)

Have you ever been to Saint Catherine, Sinai, Egypt?

I hadn’t. At least not until a two-hour conversation with a longtime friend, Esraa. I last spoke to her a couple of years ago during the screening of her film “I’ve Known Rivers,” a poetic slow cinema portrayal of North African deserts, specifically in Egypt and Tunisia. She told me a startling fact: Saint Catherine is home to one of the world’s smallest butterfly species, and they’re on the brink of extinction.

Esraa Elfeky is a traveler, visual artist, and director whose practice is rooted in her interest in Egypt and North Africa’s desert landscapes. She moves across video, sculpture, sound, and installation, exploring the intersections of nature, the body, and urban life through themes of decay, apocalypse, and rebirth. Her creative process is anything but linear and everything but classic, which takes shape in her latest publication, “What is Beyond You? أنا لا أعرف,” …a poetic meditation on the creative process and spiritual seeking, in deep connection with nature.

“It all started when I went on a solo trip to Sinai six, seven years ago. A Bedouin local asked me, ‘Have you ever seen the world’s smallest butterfly? It lives here, in the heart of Saint Catherine.’ Since that moment, I have wanted to learn more.” Esraa shares.

Storytelling runs in the veins of the Bedouins. In Saint Catherine, where the mountains hold centuries of memory, fact and fantasy often weave together. Esraa kept that short encounter in her notebook. Years later, she returned to it with questions — could Sinai really be home to one of the world’s smallest butterflies, or is it only the truth of a story?

This rare butterfly species called Sinai baton bluescientifically known as pseudophilotes sinaicus, lives under very specific conditions. It inhabits a narrow range in the Saint Catherine mountains, surviving only at a precise altitude between two valleys. Above or below this range, it cannot survive. Their lifecycle is sadly short: the butterflies emerge from their caterpillars for just one or two months each year (starting early May), and only under very specific weather conditions. Their diet depends exclusively on “Za’iteran زعيتران” , a certain wild plant that they need to survive.

“Not all butterflies have such a harsh life like this one. That’s why if you want to observe them, you have to do so during those one or two months only—or wait until next year.”

You might wonder: why choose to camp in the middle of the desert? What’s so appealing about a cold, empty void? This very question fuels Esraa’s artistic practice.

“People always think the desert is a soulless void, but it’s quite the opposite. It’s full of life—thousands of non-human animals that inhabit it, each with their own stories. Even the land and mountains are alive in ways many people overlook.”

Esraa begins by exploring a place, seeking a spiritual invitation from it. Once she feels that connection, she truly gets to know the place by being present—learning its history, connecting with the land’s natives, and listening to their stories, whether from indigenous people or observing the native animals and creatures themselves.

“To learn more about this butterfly, a friend connected me with the manager of the Saint Catherine Protectorate. I also wanted a scientific perspective for this project, so I collaborated with an Egyptian researcher from the protectory on this segment. While there isn’t much research overall, most existing studies have been conducted by foreigners who visited Sinai, observed, and documented their findings.”

But just to clarify, “What is beyond you?” is not a scientific publication or a formal reference. It’s a documentation of Esraa’s personal journey to discover this rare butterfly species. The drawings in her 2025 follow-up exhibition blend reality with her own interpretation, capturing the butterfly’s details with a precise vision unique to her.

“The phrase ‘أنا لا أعرف I don’t know’ was actually inspired by a Sufi drama. It carries many meanings. The Sheikh gave his student this phrase to repeat, as a reminder that the soul genuinely doesn’t know anything. This phrase guided me in life — and also in the world of nature, because no matter how much you learn, you genuinely know nothing.”

Esraa’s relationship with hiking and nature is purely spiritual. Seeking solace in nature was never about art. Exploring harsh environments, like the desert, is a spiritual practice. A way to connect with herself, with God, and with non-human beings. The phrase captures her approach to the mountains and deserts.

“This is why the phrase ‘I don’t know’ mirrors my relationship with the world of nature. It’s a constant reminder that no matter how much you learn, you truly don’t know anything.”

Esraa shares the journey of reaching the butterfly, documenting her notions inspired by Sufi literature and spiritual practice.

The sociopolitical history of the region is something Esraa takes seriously, especially while working on this publication.

“You can’t ignore the political, social, and religious history if you want to understand Sinai’s full complexity, as well as its geological and biological wealth.”

It’s disheartening to realize that this butterfly could be just one of hundreds of species whose stories remain unknown to most of us. Its resilience, how it adapts and struggles to survive despite the limits of its biology, is quietly remarkable. Yet as its numbers fall rapidly, most people, most Egyptians, will never even hear about it. Through this project, Esraa unintentionally invites us to pause and witness the stories of these creatures and to rediscover the rich biodiversity hidden in places we usually overlook. If we take a moment to truly look, we might uncover beauty in the most unexpected ways.

Related Articles

A Journey to the World’s Smallest Butterfly (before it goes extinct)

A Journey to the World’s Smallest Butterfly (before it goes extinct)

“Remember Me, Will You?” An Ode to Forgotten Maternal Lineages

“Remember Me, Will You?” An Ode to Forgotten Maternal Lineages

Carving a Legacy in the Mountains of St. Catherine: Hajja Amiriya

Carving a Legacy in the Mountains of St. Catherine: Hajja Amiriya