Afghanistan, where history keeps repeating itself

The war in Afghanistan is no longer making headline news since the U.S. withdrew its troops in a sudden and short-term operation. What’s new, we might ask. The answer is nothing. 

Alexander spent three years of his life in Central Asia fighting an ever-elusive enemy of tribes that no longer fought each other but joined forces against the invader. In the 5th century, the Huns wreaked havoc; Genghis Khan, at the head of the Mongols, rampaged the region in the 13th century; Tamerlane repeated the operation a century later; and the Mughal dynasty followed suit in the 16th century. Even Islam spreading brotherhood among men could not achieve any result. The more recent invasions by Britain in 1839-1842 and 1870-1880, the Soviet Union in 1979-1989, and the United States in 2001-2021 only repeated their predecessors’ fatal outcomes.  

Who are we to call Alexander’s campaign in Central Asia a failure when later invaders with far more sophisticated means did not fare any better? Alexander was a military genius, and no one has been able to surpass him – certainly not here in Afghanistan. 

Those looking for a complete analysis on the situation in Afghanistan will find useful information in Frank Holt’s book Into the Land of Bones, Alexander the Great in Afghanistan. The author draws an excellent comparison of Alexander’s achievements with those of later invaders. He asserts that the only way to rule the country should imply that the conqueror subdues every warlord because one single exception would erase all previous successes. Isn’t that precisely what Alexander tried to achieve? 

The French archaeologists who worked in Afghanistan early last century upon the invitation of King Mohammed Zahir were confronted with the double face of the local population. During the day, they gathered around to look and give a helping hand, while at night, they would destroy the statues and steal the precious artifacts. Tribal elderly, generally strong Islamic believers, destroyed many human statues as soon as they were unearthed. Altogether, many unique artifacts were destroyed overnight or disappeared on their way to the Museum in Kabul (see: Le trésor perdu des rois d’Afghanistan by Philippe Flandrin). Typically for Afghanistan, not even the king could overrule the tribe elderly! 

Under these circumstances, it is impressive that the gold treasure from Tillya Tepe, a tomb hill in the northwest corner of Afghanistan, has survived. The content of these six tombs was barely rescued when the Soviet Union entered Afghanistan in 1979 and safely transferred to the Museum in Kabul (see: Bactrian Gold, the Hidden Treasures from the Museum of Kabul). The Museum suffered greatly from the ensuing civil wars and was repeatedly plundered, and artifacts were stolen. The worst, however, was still to come when in 2001, the Taliban decided not only to destroy the huge Buddha statues at Bamyan but also to annihilate the 2,500 statues and reliefs of the Museum. However, a handful of brave Afghans rescued the Tillya Tepe treasure and locked it away in the vaults of the Presidential Palace. They managed to keep the place a secret. By 2004 the government of Afghanistan decided that the situation was safe enough to bring the gold artifacts out in the open again, but the Museum in Kabul was no longer fit to shelter this precious collection. Based on their earlier collaboration, they contacted the Musée Guimet in Paris and, together, they agreed to send these rich finds on a traveling tour around the world. 

Today, with the ruling Taliban, the country is still dominated by its warlords, who consistently cling to their traditions and mistrust all foreign intrusion.

Hidden treasures of Central Asia

In a recent article, The Greek Reporter focused on the achievements of the prominent archaeologist Viktor Sarianidi (which they misspelled as Victor Sarigiannidis). 

His name is closely tied to the excavations at Tillya Tepe in Afghanistan, which had to be interrupted when the USSR invaded the country. The treasures from that tomb were safely transferred to the Museum of Kabul for safekeeping. When the Taliban rose to power in 2001, they decided to destroy the 2,500 statues and reliefs kept at the Museum. The Afghans managed to move and hide the precious artifacts from the tomb. In 2004, the government of Afghanistan decided the situation was safe enough to bring the gold treasures out in the open again. As the Museum in Kabul could no longer shelter this precious collection, they agreed with the Musée Guimet in Paris to send these rich finds on a traveling tour (see: Bactrian Gold, the Hidden Treasures from the Museum of Kabul). The Greek Reporter mentions that the artifacts have instead disappeared!

[Picture from The Telegraph, CREDIT: ©Thierry Ollivier / Musée Guimet]

Viktor Sarianidi lived an interesting life, to say the least. He was born in Tashkent, then USSR, and now Uzbekistan, to Greek parents. His archaeological career took off in 1949, and he excavated actively in Central Asia and Afghanistan. At this time, he exposed the necropolis of Tillya Tepe. It is noteworthy that Sarianidi proved the intercultural influences of the findings with links to Greece, Iran, India, Egypt, China, and even Siberia! The most striking example is the cute little Greek goddess Aphrodite, complemented with wings conforming to local winged deities and the dot on the forehead that shows influence from India. 

Sarianidi spent the last 30 years of his life excavating in the Desert of the Karakum in Turkmenistan, where he discovered the hitherto unknown Margian Kingdom (end of the 3rd millennium BC). This discovery earned him the Honorary citizenship of Turkmenistan in 2000. Three years earlier, he had received Greek citizenship. These rewards have led to widespread confusion about his nationality, and he is quoted alternatively as Russian, Greek, or Turkmen. 

[Kyzylkum Desert and Oxus River]

With such a background, he promoted the Greek presence in the greater Black Sea area and identified Greek roots in modern Afghanistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan. Sarianidi also developed a theory that Hellenism (I believe he means Greek) influences reached Central Asia some 1600 years before Alexander the Great arrived on the scene. This means that the culture of the Oxus River could be associated with the Minoan-Mycenaean culture. He was a prolific writer, and his books have been translated into English and Greek. 

The Greek Reporter further insists that Sarianidi discovered “the city” of Bactria! This is very confusing because Bactria was a region in Central Asia, and its capital was named Bactra, modern Balkh. Linking Bactra and the vast necropolis of Gonur Tepe apparently confirms Sarianidi’s theory that Greek influences (not Hellenism) were present many centuries before Alexander conquered Central Asia.

Weather conditions during Alexander’s march East

As I so often stated, the weather conditions are not important for historians. We find only a few examples in Alexander's campaigns, like the Monsoon in India and the flash flood in the Gedrosian Desert. Still, in reality, the weather did play a vital role in his campaign East.

Throughout their march from Greece to India, the Macedonians must have been plagued by recurrent earthquakes that disturbed their advance or campsite. Alexander could sacrifice to the gods, but he could not prevent or control these natural disasters. 

Speaking to one of the locals in Turkey, I remember him pointing out that he preferred to be “in the open” rather than inside any building when an earthquake occurred. Being outside, he would witness boulders rolling downhill and trees being shaken, but none of the rattlings would be as frightening as when sitting inside a house or shack.

It is easy to imagine how, in Alexander’s campsites, the army tents would collapse, banging up the occupants. Frightened horses and pack animals would try to run if they were not adequately secured by their attendants. When an earthquake hit the troops on the march, they could immediately react accordingly.

Another natural threat is the wind, which may not sound so dangerous, but the situation could be life-threatening when it creates a storm.

This idea occurred to me during my trip to Iran when I skirted the Zagros Mountains. In the winter of 330 BC, Alexander marched south using approximately the same route I was following a little later in the year, i.e., in April (see: The Zagros Mountains and the Persian Gates in Alexander’s footsteps).

I was plagued by a severe sandstorm that blew relentlessly during my three-day journey. Visibility was very low as the sands from the Mesopotamian Valley in modern Iraq were carried through the air. My clothes flapped around me as if they were to be torn away any moment while the sand was stinging my face and hurting my body. The wind whistled through the lunch place and the sand battered against the windows.

Inevitably my mind drifted back to Alexander as he must have known days like this. Traveling in the comfort of my air-conditioned vehicle was hard enough. However, when I stepped outside of this protective shell, I had a taste of what he experienced – if not here, certainly in other locations.

Curtius seems to be the only one to write about Alexander’s expeditions into the interior of Persia some time in Spring 330 BC, where he was troubled by heavy rain and “almost intolerable weather.” He even was stopped by heavy snow that had frozen solid; not for long, though, as he immediately started making his way, breaking the ice with a mattock, an example that his men promptly followed (see: Alexander amidst the pomp and circumstance of Persepolis).

While we take bad weather as a mere inconvenience, we cannot underestimate its far-reaching impact. That became clear after reading The Road to Oxiana by Robert Byron. Byron traveled to Iran and Afghanistan in 1933, using whatever means of transportation available. The weather conditions commanded his advance to a degree I did not expect. The Macedonian army must have faced similar conditions that hampered their progress to the same extent.

Byron is hit by what he calls a burning dust-storm, a good one hundred miles east of Hamadan, ancient Ecbatana. Near Bisutun, he witnessed great spirals of dust, “dancing like demons over the desert,” stopping his car and choking the passengers. 

Wind, rain, and ice are Byron’s main challenges. He attempted to drive south from Tehran to Isfahan in early February but was stopped some ten miles out. The road turned into a sheet of ice that partly thawed and had frozen again. The scene must have been spectacular, for he writes, “At this moment the sun rose, a twinkle of fire lit the snowy plain, the white range of the Elbruz was suffused with blue and gold,” A beautiful picture but a horrible travel condition.

A few days later, it rained for twenty-four hours. Byron was still stopped in Tehran by a “deluge of rain” in the last days of April. As he traveled further East via Damghan to Mashed, a route that approximately matches Alexander’s, “the rain fell like a bath-waste. For miles at a time the road was a river, the desert a flood, and every mountain a cataract.” The roads turned into fast-flowing rivers.

In Spring, Byron eventually reached Herat and continued due East to Kunduz. On his road to Balkh, where Alexander made camp and wintered in 328 BC (see: A view of the Karakum and Kyzylkum Deserts and Afrasiab, ancient Samarkand), Byron describes how “the rain came down in sheets. … every angle of the mountains was occupied by a cataract. … along that narrow ledge whence the red pinnacles rose into the clouds above, and whole ranges could be seen emerging from the clouds below…” A little further, he continues by saying that “the color of the landscape changed from lead to aluminum… The clumps of green trees, the fountain-shaped tufts of coarse cutting grass, stood out almost black against this mortal tint”.

Mazar-i-Sharif fared much better in his last days of May. He described how the clouds gathered on the mountains each afternoon, although summer should have set in six weeks before. People said they had never witnessed such conditions. The weather one hundred years ago was as unpredictable as today. The rain that fell before Byron’s arrival in the city was enough to close the road to Kabul for a whole month! An entire village had fallen down in a nearby gorge. Just picture Alexander having to cope with such extremes!

After Kunduz, Byron turned West, following the river of the same name to the plain of Bamyan, crossing the stream nine or ten times over wooden bridges. I doubt these bridges existed in Alexander’s days when the army had to find a way through the water. In June, Byron heard that a landslide blocked the other side of the Shibar Pass. In fact, “heaps of liquid mud and pebbles concealing large rocks.” The travel conditions became increasingly drastic. “The crops below the road, already half destroyed by the rivers of mud, were now menaced by a further spate.”

Alexander probably took this same road in the fall of 327 BC when he left Bactria for India by the Shibar Pass (see: Alexander crosses the Hindu Kush a second time). Nobody mentions any landslides occurring, but they were undoubtedly recurrent because further down Byron’s road to Kabul, another dozen landslides prevented him from reaching the city. Was Alexander just lucky and under the protection of the gods, one wonders?

The crossings of the Hindu Kush, in turn, have been pictured very well by Steven Pressfield in his book The Afghan Campaign. He describes the pure horror and misery the army endured in their daily lives of survival (see: From Afghanistan into Bactria across the Hindu Kush). Arrian, of course, gives us the facts but Pressfield, with his skills as a military writer, adds the human experience to the expedition.

Picking up Byron again, we read how on the road from Kabul to Ghazni – which Alexander traveled in the opposite direction to cross the Hindu Kush into Bactria – “two lorries were completely wrecked by the stream … the Kunduz ferry has overturned and sunk, drowning five women.”

Reading our history books, we are far from realizing that traveling or leading an army was a dangerous enterprise. Not only because of the enemies that had to be subdued but also because of the terrain and the weather conditions, which, as I said above, were seldom mentioned or recorded.

Wreaths and crowns of leaves or gold

Exploring the rooms of an archaeological museum, one inevitably comes across a concentration of gold and silver jewelry. Among them, the gold crowns with their quivering leaves call for our attention. 

The gold wreaths and crowns originated in ancient times when leaves and flowers were commonly used to mark festive occasions like processions or special dinners. Golden crowns were the privilege reserved for honors on behalf of the community or as funerary reverence. 

Wreaths of leaves were recognized as prizes for those victorious at competition games, marking a moment of triumph for the athlete. The most famous event was the Olympic Games, where the winner received a crown of olive leaves. Variants are laurel, Apollo’s sacred tree, at Delphi, dried celery at the Isthmian games, and green celery at the Nemean games. 

However, they were also appropriate on many other occasions. Those attending a Symposium would wear wreaths made of roses, violets, or myrtle leaves. Such wreaths appear clearly in Oliver Stone's movie Alexander in the wedding scene of King Philip.

They were also a sign of exceptional merit and military conduct and were worn by orators and priests as they performed their sacrifices. The Maenads and other followers of Dionysus wore wreaths of ivy or vine leaves, and so did the Chorus in ancient Greek theater. 

The ritual of crowning even extended to altars, statues, and temples. Wreaths were also part of funerary practices as the deceased would be crowned; the urns containing their ashes had a wreath, or the wreath was placed inside the tomb. 

Many such examples made in gold have reached us and found their way to the museums. For instance, the crown of oak leaves and acorns discovered in the tomb of King Philip in Aegae and the silver funerary urn from an unspecified Macedonian tomb are at the Museum of Vergina. 

However, most of the finds are on display at the Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki (see: Exploring the Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki). The wreaths come, for instance, from Cassandreia, Apollonia, Sedes, Aenea, and the greater area around Thessaloniki and ancient Aegae. These precious grave goods may be the legacy of Alexander’s conquests and the wealth Macedonia amassed in his wake. 

It is a pure pleasure to wander through the museum’s rich collections to find, for instance, two myrtle wreaths, one splendidly executed with colored flowers, and another funerary one with bronze gilt leaves and clay gilt fruit (Aenea) from 350-325 BC. Two olive crowns, one from Tomb A and another very elaborated one with the knot of Heracles from Cassandreia (3rd century BC). The gold ivy wreath was found in Apollonia and dated 350-325 BC. The gold oak crown, very typical for the Macedonian court, was also unearthed in Cassandreia and carried the fascinating knot of Heracles as well. 

Although Athens holds far fewer examples, they may be kept in their reserves. The National Archaeological Museum exhibits a myrtle wreath with berries from the 4th century BC. The lesser-known Benaki Museum displays an oak leaves crown from the late 2nd/early 1st century BC found in Alexandria and another crown with gold ivy and flowers from Macedonia, 1st century BC. 

Eventually, wreaths appeared on funerary monuments or were painted on their walls. In time, a wreath might be carved on the tomb to mark the site. 

It is noteworthy that wreaths were sacred objects. It was a sacrilege to wear somebody else’s crown without authorization. It was also forbidden to remove a wreath or dispose of it if you were not supposed to touch it. 

Crowns were not a privilege of Greece. Earlier Thracian gold wreaths were found in Bulgaria and are now at the Museum of Sofia. 

A most striking and uncommon crown surfaced at Tillya-Tepe in northern Afghanistan (see: Bactrian Gold, the Hidden Treasures from the Museum of Kabul). The burial site belongs to some steppe people. It has been dated to the first century AD revealing a true mixture of art from the steppes (possibly Scythian art), Greek, Indian, and Chinese art. The princess’ crown is a travel crown with gold spangles and flowers. It can be taken apart as it consists of five separate pieces mounted around a tiny stem holding flattened branches that fit into the band of the crown itself. The spangles are gently shaking as people walk by, so imagine this crown out in the open steppe where the wind can play freely with every tiny detail! A true gem! 

How many more such treasures remain hidden, waiting for us to discover them?

[Picture from Oliver Stone's movie Alexander. The crown from Tillya Tepe is from the Australian]

The fertile valleys of the Hindu Kush

Atlas Obscura is a newly created site (2021) aiming “to inspire wonder and curiosity about the incredible world we all share”. In fact, it was an article about the preservation of grapes in the foothills of the Hindu Kush that caught my attention. 

The location is the village of Aqa Saray at about half an hour drive north of Kabul – Alexander land, as far as I’m concerned. The place is described as being surrounded by vineyards and fruit trees. 

When Alexander arrived in the area in late 330 BC, he realized that it was too late in the year to march across the Hindu Kush (see: From Afghanistan into Bactria across the Hindu Kush). For that reason, he settled his army near Begram (later being renamed as Alexandria-in-the-Caucasus) at the junction of the Cophen (Kabul) River and the Panshir River overlooking a broad plain framed with snowy peaks. The army got a breather of several months in this valley where they found food and fodder in abundance. 

The fertile soil and dry-warm climate are ideal for apple, apricot and cherry trees to grow, as well as for vineyards. Presently, the production of grapes is officially estimated at 1.5 million tons. Further south, it is mainly pomegranates and melons. In winter, however, the snow falls heavily over the Hindu Kush and the mountains are covered with some twenty meters of snow. 

The climate has not changed much since Alexander’s days, so it is easy to imagine that the local people still live the same way as they did then. 

Here in Aqa Saray, there seems to be a living proof of that old heritage being kept alive. They actually are using containers made of mud-straw which they call kangina to preserve their grapes. The containers actually seal off the contents and keep out air and moisture – not unlike our modern plastic containers. The result is truly astonishing, particularly for the preservation of their grapes as they look perfect and remain fresh for at least five or six months, i.e., all through the winter! 

The above article mentions that this technique existed for centuries in these parts of Afghanistan and I can’t help wondering for how many centuries. Maybe all the way back to the days Alexander and his Macedonians occupied the land? 

The making of these containers has no secret. The villagers use the available clay and mix it with water and straw to obtain the desired consistency to create the bowls. They then are left to dry in the sun for approximately five hours. Once the recipients are ready, the grapes are put inside and the containers are sealed with more mud. The Taifi grape is preferred since it has a thicker skin and is better adapted for this kind of conservation technique. These preserved grapes are one of the favorite dishes served during the Nowruz or New Year meals to the many guests who come together for the occasion. 

It would be interesting to be able to turn back the clock of time, wouldn’t it?

[Pictures are from the Atlas Obscura]

An eye for beauty in spite of the daily challenges

On a lovely autumn day, I was enjoying a picnic high up the hills among the ruins of Tlos, overlooking the Xanthos Valley. My mind automatically drifted away to Alexander, who must have ridden down this very valley towards Patara, Letoon, and Xanthos. I pictured him proudly riding his faithful Bucephalus, who was happily shaking his colorful tassels and twinkling bells.

In my pleasant mental picture, I imagined a good-humored Alexander enjoying the ride and the beauty of the land with Hephaistion at his side. No history book will mention this, of course. The landscape, roads, or weather conditions are no topic unless they reach extremes.

The few such exceptions our historians picked up are, for instance, the blizzards that hit the army on the passes of the Hindu Kush, the never-ending monsoon rains in India, and the flash flood in the Gedrosian Desert. Otherwise, we can only use our imagination, and that is not easy since most of us have not traveled to those faraway lands.

I feel privileged to have trodden in the footsteps of this great conqueror on several occasions, but to truly appreciate what is involved, we would have to venture out on foot. Only a handful of braves have set out on such an adventure. Traveling by plane or car, as is common nowadays, does not allow us to experience the impact of the elements. The wind, the rain, the heat or the cold remain blocked until we step outside of our metal cocoon. We miss out on the smells of the land, the dust, the fog, the crispy frost in the air. The most common sounds of bleating sheep, mooing cows, the songs of the birds, and the laughter of children are stifled entirely.

The topic of the weather fully hit me when I drove south along the Zagros Mountains in a relentless dust storm. The sands from Mesopotamia were carried through the air in sweeping gusts. As long as I sat inside the comforts of my vehicle, I only noticed a hazy landscape, but as soon as I left my protective shell, the grains hit me in the face, stinging me with thousands of needles. The wind was tearing at my clothes, the sand was crushing between my teeth, and breathing became difficult. Alexander must have known such days. 

The role of the landscape and the climate during Alexander’s campaign became even more apparent to me after reading “The Road to Oxiana” by Robert Byron. This book is a true eye-opener when it comes to envisioning the full scale of his daily challenges.

In 1933, Byron traveled from Damascus to Baghdad and crossed Persia to finally reach Afghanistan one year later.  It is quite exciting to discover that long stretches of his route match the itinerary taken by Alexander more than 2,000 years earlier. The landscape is a commanding factor common in both cases. Then and now, roads run along the same rivers, pass the same oases and towns, skirt the same deserts and mountains, and use the same passes and goat tracks. I enjoy his descriptions of the many valleys in full spring bloom in Central Asia, where the fiery red poppies rule the fields as they still do in Alexander’s homeland. They are a welcome breather after witnessing the barren deserts with their frequent dust devils whirling around.

Byron hitchhiked on board lorries but also traveled by car or on horseback. Despite modern means of transportation, he did not move much faster than a traveler on foot would. Roads were often impassable because of flooding or flash floods that washed away entire portions, including bridges or other rudimentary crossings.

He used old caravanserais when there was no local governor or friendly Brit around to offer him a room for the night. Lodging was, more often than not, uncomfortable and dirty. He generously recounts the folklore details of such encounters, and it seems to me that life has not really changed much since the days of Alexander.

As I read on, I search for those landscapes and cities that most likely have seen the Macedonian army marching through. Places like Ecbatana, Persepolis, Pasargadae, Balkh, Kabul, and Peshawar, the crossing of the Elbruz Mountains towards the Caspian Sea, and the perilous trek over the Hindu Kush.

Byron describes a poignant moment as he descends to the Caspian Coast. In a few minutes, the world of stone, sand, and mud he had endured since Damascus turned into one of green-leafed trees and bushes. The everlasting drought made way for moisture as even his body somehow returned to its natural buoyancy. I imagine Alexander and his dust-covered Macedonians must have experienced the same kind of refreshing relief.

Insofar as possible, Alexander used the well-maintained Persian Royal Road. Once beyond that network, it came down to finding tracks and trails. It appears that Byron had a rather similar experience, and his worst progress was made after he left Persia to enter Afghanistan.

The sudden changes in the weather pattern are widespread in that part of the world, and Byron truly undergoes these extremes. He tells how it rained all night, how the river had subsided but rose again fast, four feet deep at times. Of rain falling like bath-waste turning the road into a river for miles in a row, flooding the desert, and turning every mountain into a cataract. He describes the dark skies as cloud-wracked set against inky jagged hills.

At one time, after passing the Paropamisus, he labors for an hour and a half, ankle-deep in freezing slush, to lever away the rocks blocking the road. Landslides were common, and he mentions how not one but a dozen such landslides prevented him from reaching Kabul overnight. A mile beyond the Shibar Pass across the Hindu Kush, which Alexander also used, Byron hits more landslides, heaps of liquid mud and pebbles concealing large rocks. The crops below the road, already half destroyed by a river of mud, are then menaced by a new spate.

Another exciting feature that is not mentioned in our history books, either, is the qanats. A very recognizable and ingenious water management system from antiquity that still exists today and is still functioning in some parts of the world. The quality of the river water could not always be trusted, but the qanats carried the precious fluid from the snow level high up the mountains or from clean underground water tables (see: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind).

Earthquakes were another frequent occurrence at every stage of Alexander’s route. Surprisingly, the sudden shaking that rocked tents, as well as men and beasts, is never mentioned either. They probably were prevailing events not worth talking about.

No, this way of traveling is definitely not for the faint-hearted. Yet Alexander and his brave Macedonians constantly faced the elements. However, I like to believe that many, and especially Alexander, had an eye for beauty as well. Byron tells us, for instance, that he reached the most beautiful part of his entire journey at the foot of the Hindu Kush. Of all places! After leaving the river, the road constantly climbed not in twists but followed a succession of steeply sloping saddles leading from ridge to ridge. I have seen pictures of this road in a presentation at the exhibition “Afghanistan, hidden treasures from the National Museum, Kabul,” and they entirely match Byron’s description.

On the other hand, flowers must have been plentiful in antiquity, creating landscapes that were familiar to Alexander. Nowadays, they have mainly disappeared from our cities and our concrete roads. I fondly recall the Macedonian fields covered with an array of spring flowers ranging from the white chamomile and pink hollyhock to the deep-red poppies and purple wild onions. The explosion of colors over the rolling hills felt like a homecoming. The land was pleasantly green, crossed by refreshing, clear streams tumbling down from higher elevations under the blue sky filled with fleets of puffy clouds. Yet, I came across the same picture in many other places, further east to Turkey and beyond.

Truly, so much, so very much remains to be discovered and disclosed on Alexander’s whereabouts!

Stunning Gandharan art to be returned to Afghanistan

British Border Forces and London Police have worked together to intercept ancient artifacts from Afghanistan that was part of an illegal shipment entering Britain in 2002.

Among the items, are a number of exquisite sculptures from Gandhara that have been dated to the 4th century BC, mostly heads made of clay and painted. Also confiscated was a wonderful bodhisattva torso in Hellenistic style. These artifacts were discovered at Heathrow Airport where two crudely made wooden crates from Peshawar, Pakistan caught the attention of the authorities.

The 4^th century BC heads discovered at Heathrow airport in 2002 

[Credit: Trustees of the British Museum]

The nine heads and the torso were examined closely by the British Museum and are made ready to be returned home. Pending this operation, the museum is seeking permission from the National Museum of Afghanistan in Kabul to exhibit some of the heads in London. That would be a great opportunity for any art lover.

Previously, in 2011, a collection of 154 Mesopotamian clay tablets from the period between the 6^th and 4^th century BC was seized and entrusted to the British Museum. It has been established that these cuneiform tablets belonged to the administrative archives of Irisagrig, Iraq. This Sumerian site, whose location has not yet been determined, has been very badly looted and hundreds of tablets and thousands of clay bullae have made their illicit way to the U.S. as well.

The clay tablets that are now held by the British Museum will soon return to the Iraqi Museum in Baghdad.

It is lovely to see that at least some of the stolen goods are returning to their homeland.