The stunning mosaic museum of Zeugma

It appears that I have missed the construction of the new museum for the mosaics saved from Zeugma. Since 2011, the Gaziantep Museum of Archaeology has housed the rich collection from the earlier Zeugma Mosaic Museum, and in 2017, the revamped museum finally reopened to the public. With its 1700 square meters of mosaics, it claims to display the biggest collection in the world. 

Zeugma reached headlines in 1990 when the Dam of Ataturk on the Euphrates River reached completion as part of the vast GAP project covering both the Euphrates and the Tigris. This is the fourth-largest dam in the world. As the remains of old Zeugma were to be flooded forever, thousands of people had been expelled from their homes and lands. Archaeologists from everywhere scrambled to save what they could before the river and sediments obliterated the ruins forever. For me, such an act of destruction is unforgivable, and I wrote several blogs on the disasters of building dams (see: My heart is bleeding for Allianoi, Damned dams! and Damned dams, once again) 

Looking at the events from the positive side, I have to admit that parts of Zeugma have been saved and preserved. They include the Hellenistic Agora, the Roman Agora, two sanctuaries, a theater, a Stadium, two bathhouses, and several necropolises. The Romans left their marks with a Legion’s Military Base, the city walls, and a good number of residential quarters. Archaeologists recognize the historical significance of this once prosperous city that has preserved testimonies from the ancient Semitic culture, Hellenistic and Roman occupation, and beyond. 

Since its foundation as Seleucia by Seleucos I, the city was a vital hub on the trade routes and flourished, especially during the 2nd and 3rd centuries BC. It was the Romans who, after their conquest of 64 BC, gave the town the name of Zeugma, which means “bridge” or “crossing” in ancient Greek. In 253 AD, the Persian Sassanids expelled the Romans, and their reign initiated the decline of Zeugma (see:  Zeugma, Border-town along the Euphrates River) 

As can be expected, most of the mosaics exhibited at The Gaziantep Museum of Archaeology date from the 2^nd century BC and are very much Hellenistic in style and imagery. However, there are exceptions where the scenes are purely Roman or display Greek and Roman gods side by side. Less often mentioned are the rare mural frescos that survived the earthquakes and mudslides that led to the abandonment of Zeugma. 

Several exceptional mosaics have been recovered in extremis from one of the residential villas, of which there must be many more. Imagine how much of old Seleucia is being lost because of a dam that will no longer exist, and justify its construction in the next century. How can we condemn IS for blowing up Palmyra and accept the willful destruction of our heritage here in Zeugma? 

Damned dams, once again

On several occasions, I brought up the matter of the disastrous consequences of flooding our history through the construction of dams on major rivers. I have developed the pros and cons in earlier blogs (see: Zeugma, border town along the Euphrates River; My heart is bleeding for Allianoi; and Damned Dams). This is, however, only the very tip of the iceberg and it is very sad that so little is done to bring this matter of utmost importance for the preservation of our cultural heritage to the attention of the general public.

Perchance I found an incredibly interesting presentation on YouTube that clearly illustrates the catastrophic consequences of these dam-building projects using Turkey’s three main dams on the Euphrates River. The problem, however, is not limited to Turkey alone but known all over the Near East.

Although we often believe that much of the city of Zeugma has been rescued and moved to the Museum in Gaziantep, the truth is that only an infinite part of this ancient city has been excavated - most of it is drowned forever. More dramatic is the city of Samsat on the Euphrates founded in the 7th millennium BC and flooded without merci in 1989 when the Ataturk Dam was completed.

This documentary, unfortunately, has not been seen by the number of visitors one would and should expect for such a sensitive and important subject. It is quite amazing – and certainly an eye opener – to see all the dots on the maps where archaeological sites have simply disappeared forever. The crimes of IS received far more attention and indignation around the world than the flooding of our ancestral roots on such a large scale.

The documentary was created by the UNIBO team led by Nicolò Marchetti in the frame of the 2015-2018 EU-funded JPI project "Heritage and Threat".

Please, do visit this site and show your appreciation by clicking on the Thumbs Up!

Damned dams!

After Allianoi (see: My Heart in bleeding for Allianoi), after Zeugma (see: Zeugma, border town along the Euphrates), and after many uncharted dams destroying our historical heritage, it is the turn to the town of Hasankeyf on the Tigris to be flooded and blasted to pieces because of the construction of yet another dam.

[Picture from Archaeology News Network]

The location of the dam on the Tigris River is a very unhappy one, for Hasankeyf is one of the oldest continuously inhabited settlements in the world. From Neolithic caves to the Roman fortress and later Ottoman landmarks, all are soon to disappear forever as crews have already started blasting the surrounding cliffs in preparation for the construction of this dam.

As before in Allianoi and in Zeugma, the Turkish government does not listen to the pleas formulated by local and international communities to preserve the site. Internationally, it does not ring loud bells like when the giant Buddhas were blown to pieces in Bamyan, Afghanistan, or the more recent dynamiting of the Temple of Bell in Palmyra, Syria, but this heritage is nonetheless very important from the historical point of view.

Of course, officials have their own arguments, and as usual, they underscore the fact that this dam will enable the irrigation of the surrounding land and generate a substantial amount of energy. They even expect tourists to come for scuba diving in the new reservoir in search of the submerged monuments (as if the average tourist walks around with his diving gear in his backpack!). The price tag for this operation is, however, that nearly 200 settlements will be submerged and some 15,000 people will be resettled in the newly built city of New Hasankeyf on higher grounds.

It is comforting to hear that Ridvan Ayhan, who is a member of the Save Hansakeyf Initiative, confirms my earlier worries about the lifespan of a dam, which is only 80 years on average. Nobody is asking the obvious question: and then, what? As I explained earlier when talking about Allianoi, water is of vital importance to our life, but dams are not the one and only solution, and they are not eternal as governments all over the world want us to believe. What will happen in 80 or 100 years from now when this barrage and so many others give way? No water then, no crops, no dams, nobody to take responsibility for, and sadly no historical city to be revived from underneath the sediments. How can we explain this to our children and our children’s children?

In December 2016, the HuffPost published a cry for help with large-sized photos of the area, but as usual, officials turned a blind eye to this kind of plea.

My heart is bleeding for Allianoi

With the change of weblogs, I somehow lost track of Allianoi till I was looking for it the other day and couldn’t find it. Luckily, I still had the original texts on my tablets, and although the news is “passé” by now, I feel that it is never too late to draw attention to what has happened there and is still happening elsewhere in Turkey’s frenzy to build ever more dams. 

It was in October 2010 when I first read that the gorgeous site of Allianoi would be flooded in spite of all the pleas and contacts with "authorities" over the past three years or so. I couldn't believe my eyes, for this is no way to treat our heritage. It is like throwing away the bones of our ancestors. How dare we?

[Picture from the Art Newspaper]

For those who hear the name Allianoi for the first time, I owe some further explanation. Allianoi is located to the northeast of ancient Pergamon, in the vicinity of Izmir, and right in the middle of the Yortanlı Dam Reservoir Area.

Because of its hot springs, the place was known already in antiquity, but the big boom occurred under Roman rule. In the 2nd century AD, Allianoi was one of the largest thermal baths in that part of the Empire that attracted crowds from the nearby Asclepion in Pergamon as well as from more distant areas. In Byzantine times, most of Allianoi was taken down and the materials were reused elsewhere in the city, but the thermal Baths and the Nymphaeum, i.e., the most important buildings, continued to be used as they were. The Ottomans renamed the settlement Paşa Ilıcası (The Thermal Baths of the Pasha), but after that, Allianoi slumbered into oblivion, although the use of the hot spring continued. The nearby Roman bridge was also still used until recently as a connection on the road from Bergama and İvrindi.

The Romans were master builders, as we know. They built the Bath Complex on both sides of the Ilya Creek, and in order to control its flow, they diverted the water to run through a vaulted tunnel. The hot spring has a nearly ideal temperature of about 45-50˚C. The Roman baths, like all other buildings on the site, date from the 2nd century AD. The brave archaeologists have discovered and uncovered many of them, only to be unfortunately buried again. Allianoi counted at least four insulae, a beautiful Nymphaeum much like the one dedicated to Herodes Atticus in Olympia, Greece, a Propylon, an unknown Cult Building, and a so-called Connection Building, along with several streets and the bridge over the creek I mentioned above. Also, remains of a Byzantine Basilica from the 9th century measuring no less than 19 x 21 meters have been located. And yet, all these jewels will disappear forever!

It is quite frustrating to find out that everything on this planet has to make way for politics and money. The average lifespan of any dam is 80 years, I learned, and this one is calculated to last only for 50 years. Is it really worth being built? What will we do fifty years from now? Dismantle the barrage and excavate Allianoi again, at huge costs once more? Haven’t we learned anything from our past dam building? The irrigated lands remain fertile for a short time only, seven to ten years maximum. After that, the soil is highly alkaline, and crops are hardly worth the effort of planting. As always, when it comes to politics, nobody listens to the environmentalists, and nobody takes their analysis seriously. In this case, nobody listens to the archaeologists either.

But that is only one aspect of building a dam. Here at Allianoi, we are voluntarily burying our heritage. Old stones have to make way for new concrete, yet we forget that our concrete will not survive 2,500 years like this old city did. One would expect that enough damage has been done already to other locations, for instance at Zeugma, Turkey, a unique site at the frontier of the Roman Empire on the banks of the Euphrates River. Archaeologists were able to save a handful of gorgeous mosaics and some wall frescos that have found shelter at the Museum of Gaziantep, but they are taken out of their context, and the proud city no longer awaits our embrace.

What will it take to stop this madness of building dams that, in the end, only scar and deplete the land? Water is vital to our life, I agree, but barrages are not the one and only solution, and their lifespan is not as eternal as governments all over the world want us to believe. What will happen in 50 or 100 years from now when this barrage and so many others give way? No water then, no crops, no dam, nobody to take responsibility, and sadly, no cities like Allianoi to be revived from underneath the sediments. 

Meanwhile, the site of Allianoi has been filled up with sand in an impossible dream that this measure will safeguard the precious remains of this two-thousand-year-old wealthy spa resort. The theory is that at the death of the dam, Allianoi can still be re-excavated, but what about the heavy layers of silt deposited on top of these remains? What damage will they have done?

A sad day for Allianoi. My heart is bleeding indeed…

Hopes may have been high still, but by March 2011, the dies were cast. A painful picture of a man sitting on the edge of the 2nd-century Roman bridge in the middle of a nearly flooded city publicized in the Christian Science Monitor says it all. In spite of the pleas and protests formulated by UNESCO, ICOMOS (International Council on Monuments and Sites), and Europa Nostra (the pan-European Federation for Cultural Heritage), it didn’t take long before the entire site disappeared to the bottom of the new reservoir at the foot of the irrigation dam, covered beneath nearly 100 feet of water and silt. The Yortanli Dam is part of another huge hydro-engineering program aiming to keep up with the country's rapid economic development – that is at least what the officials say. 

The positive news is that archaeologists have been able to salvage some 11,000 artifacts after uncovering only about 20 percent of the site that is now lost forever – a rather poor consolation if any. The beautiful mosaic floors of this ancient health center, believed to be one of the largest and best preserved in the world, have disappeared once again. The Turkish government doesn’t seem to care or not to care enough; the race to double their power output by 2020 prevails over the preservation of the country’s and the world’s history.

The site was first filled with sand in an attempt to protect the ruins, although archaeologists disagree. In the last days of 2010, the flooding was set in motion. The water, according to the latest news of early 2011, has risen approximately 6 feet but will eventually reach 100 feet. I am not aware of a more recent update on the site if any. I could only trace this picture of the flooded area taken in June 2012 (from Alberti's Window). Regretfully, we’ll never know the full meaning and extent of Allianoi. Sadly, this is only one example among so many others. How many more will follow?

Click here for the complete article Dams power Turkey’s future, but drown its rich history by Alexander Christie-Miller, which also maps other natural and culturally threatened areas all over Turkey. National Geographic offers some meaningful pictures on this link.