Water management in antiquity

Water management is a modern word for something that exists since early antiquity.

We tend to think of the Romans as being the first to bring water where it was needed thanks to the ingenuity and the skills of their architects since they left us a great number of aqueducts and fountains, but they certainly were not the first to “manage” water.

Other civilizations in other climates had to rely on other techniques and other resources. One such system is known as the kareez or qanats, which were first mentioned to me in Libya. There the ancient people of Garamantes, a Berber population that prospered from about 500 BC to 700 AD, used this technique locally known as “foggaras”. It consists of a network of underground tunnels with shafts by which fossil water is led to the desert surface creating sudden magic fertile lands and oasis.

The idea sounded rather abstract till I came across a similar system near the city of Nurata, roughly north between Bukhara and Samarkand in Uzbekistan. At the foot of the Nurata fort (Nur in antiquity) is a holy mosque that boasts about its sacred waters that come from the distant hills through a system of qanats. Here, the qanat is an underground tunnel that slopes gently and transports water from a spot under a distant hill to the lower lands; it is punctuated with a series of vertical access shafts at set intervals through which the channel could be cleaned. (See: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind)

More recently, I was told that it was, in fact, an ancient Persian invention or maybe even older, since similar waterworks were mentioned in Sumerian and Assyrian documents, i.e., at least one thousand years earlier. Yet the invention is generally attributed to the Iranians at some time during the first millennium BC, who heavily relied on the qanats until the middle of the 20^th century. When I was recently in Iran, I was shown a succession of heaps of stones which were the shaft’s entries into the underground channel. Unfortunately, all I saw were these mounds, merely oversized anthills, not a real illustration of this ingenious system.

Striking, however, were the so-called yakhchal or ice pits, which are clearly visible above ground in Iran, like this one on the road between Shiraz and Yazd. The system, said to have been mastered around 400 BC (just before Alexander’s arrival!), is quite sophisticated, as clearly explained in Wikipedia: “they built a wall in the east–west direction near the yakhchal (ice pit). In winter, the qanat water would be channelled to the north side of the wall, whose shade made the water freeze more quickly, increasing the ice formed per winter day. Then the ice was stored in yakhchals — specially designed, naturally cooled refrigerators. A large underground space with thick insulated walls was connected to a qanat, and a system of windcatchers or wind towers was used to draw cool subterranean air up from the qanat to maintain temperatures inside the space at low levels, even during hot summer days. As a result, the ice melted slowly and was available year-round”.

On another front, the water supply system of Petra in Jordan is at present under close scrutiny. The attentive visitor walking through the narrow canyon (Siq) to the heart of the city will automatically notice the water channels at the elbow’s height following the contours of the side walls, interrupted by shallow holes meant to filter the water. Yet the entire landscape around Petra is littered with smaller and larger cisterns using the natural slope of the rock walls and the cracks in the cliffs. I was taken to such a cistern from Nabataean times on the road to Little Petra, nothing more than a square door in a huge rock wall. A narrow staircase led me down into the dark water reservoir, and I could only guess its depth. In its glory days, it is said to hold as much as 1.2 million liters – how can I size that up? Today’s water level is much lower, but the precious water is still being used to irrigate the Bedouin crops in the surrounding fields and to water the animals.

It is rather unusual to encounter a water problem high up the El Deir Temple at Petra, also known as the Monastery. (see: Hellenistic Petra, indirect heritage of Alexander). Where it stands, El Deir always takes the full brunt of any storm that rolls in from across the desert. Besides, this monument is not cut deep enough into the soft sandstone wall and leaves the façade very exposed.

In front of  El Deir, there used to be a catch pool designed to collect the water from occasional downpours, but at present, the very entrance to this pool is obstructed by rubble and soil that accumulated over the centuries. Storms, when they occur, are rather violent and turn into torrents of fast-moving water that create puddles at the base of the façade. Today, the flash floods hit the monument from all sides, and water stagnates at the base of El Deir, whose walls absorb salt and other minerals from the soil, leaving a crystallized crust on the stone's surface. This crust weakens the stone and eventually will lead to its destruction. The Nabataeans clearly were aware of the problem and built that wall with the catch pool. Archaeologists now realize that the reconstruction of this wall is a priority.

Evidently, water is not always where we need it and is not always available in the appropriate amount. Another part of the archaeological project at El Deir aims to clear out dozens of water channels and cisterns in order to restore the Nabataeans’ efficient water management. At the same time, the current inhabitants could profit from the precious water, and this efficient system could eventually serve other desert communities.

Water management is nothing new, and it is quite amazing that in our advanced 21^st century, we can still learn so much from our forefathers! 

Alexander’s Prison?

Walking through the narrow streets of Yazd (Iran), I was surprised to find a signpost pointing towards Alexander’s Prison. What does it mean? Alexander never was in Yazd as far as I know, but he may, of course, have sent one of his generals here with explicit orders; this would make the connection with Alexander plausible – but still.

The formal explanation I received from the local guide is that during the reign of Alexander, a number of Persian nobles resisting his domination started a revolt in Rhagae, near modern Tehran. Alexander had them arrested, and on his way to Yazd, he imprisoned them in this fortress with a deep well in its courtyard.

Who knows what really happened, but it is a strange story since Alexander marched from Persepolis past Isfahan to Ecbatana, and from there via Qazvin to Raghae. Yazd is, however, located some 300 km east of his route Persepolis-Isfahan, which contradicts the local story that he was on his way from Raghae (Tehran) to Yazd in the south. In any case, the so-called Prison of Alexander in Yazd is still standing and has been converted into a school.

The Lonely Planet relates a story similar to that of my guide but mentions that it might have emerged from a poem by Hafez, who, together with Saadi, is one of the greatest poets Iran has ever known. Today, Hafez is still the most popular poet in Iran, and everyone can sing or recite one of his poems.

Whatever truth is hidden behind this tale, I never heard of this prison in Yazd or of its connection with Alexander, but then the same story or fable is told about Balkh in Afghanistan, whose origin would also be a prison established by Alexander. One thing is certain: the King of Asia is still very much alive in those parts of the world. There are many other examples like the one about the Alexander Fort at Nurata, the ancient city of Nur, which he founded in 327 BC. Uzbek sources relate that Alexander instructed one of his generals, a certain Farhangi-Sarhang, to build a fort that even he could not take, and he was successful at that! (see: Sogdian Rocks and Alexander’s Fort near Nurata). Another of those legends is about the Alexander River (Iskander Darya) that flows out of an Alexander Lake (Iskander Kül), also in Uzbekistan. It is believed that he built a golden dam to create the lake and that gold particles can still be panned further downstream. Another story tells how Alexander and his trusted horse Bucephalus rise from this lake every full moon to cross the sky (see: March to Maracanda).

These are all fascinating anecdotes that are being told over and over, keeping the name and the memory of Alexander the Great alive.

Sogdian Rocks and Alexander’s Fort in Nurata (Central Asia 12b)

[11b - In early 327 BC Alexander attacks the Sogdian Rocks of Ariamazes (= Sogdian) and Chorienes (= Sisimithres). Arrian and Curtius disagree on the location and the chronology.]

It is great news when I hear that I’ll be visiting an Alexander fort! No, not any of the Sogdian Rocks that went down into history, but one I never heard about. Local legend or true history, I don’t know what to think of it or what to expect. These past days I have seen many a fort and I had all these visions of Alexander’s army marching through the desert and the rough terrain followed by the inevitable baggage train – all moving in Alexander’s care. A gigantic task. You have to see this land to realize what it meant.

Yet here I am told that Nurata, the ancient city of Nur, was built in 327 BC by nobody less than Alexander the Great and it is here that I’ll be visiting one of his forts built on top of the nearby hill. That must be something! We drive through the outskirts of Nurata when at the end of the lane I suddenly see the hill topped with remains of earthen walls, with at its feet a well-kept Muslim sanctuary including a Djuma Mosque (Friday Mosque) and hamam (khamom). The round mosque from the 10th century with a cupola of 16 meters in diameter is said to be the largest in Central Asia, and is built on top of a spring. As it turns out, the entire story evolves around this spring…

According to the Muslims, the spring emerged when Hazrat Ali, the son-in-law of Prophet Mohamed, hit the soil with his staff. The water is said to possess healing powers and since ages pilgrims flock in from far and wide to cleanse themselves with the holy water – hence the adjacent hamam. Striking fact however is that throughout summer and winter these waters remain at a constant temperature of 19.1 degrees Centigrade. The fish (only Allah knows where they came from) that thrive in these crystal clear spring waters are holy as well, meaning that no one is allowed to catch them – just like in SanliUrfa (Turkey).

Nurata itself owes its life to the so-called kareez, i.e. a combination of surface and underground canals that basically slush water from a spring, lake or ground water to a city or surrounding fields. Thanks to these underground galleries, it was possible to collect melting snow or rain from the nearby mountains in order to turn these arid lands into flourishing oasis (also read …). This extensive introduction finally brings me to Alexander as the story goes that he was the one who gave instructions to detour the waters from below the mountains behind Nurata through underground corridors and canals in order to irrigate the fields. This antique system seems to be several kilometres long. In fact, it is a combination of horizontal passages and vertical shafts as clearly explained in this drawing made by the Heritage Institute. Even today, the system is still effectively used by the local population thanks to thorough recent cleaning and restoration. Amazing to hear that such an intricate irrigation work is still in working order many thousands of years later as it seems to go back to times from before the Achaemenid’s empire. Alexander most probably helped to maintain the system. 

An intriguing detail is the small Muslim tomb erected at a discrete distance behind the mosque to honor a saint; it is surrounded by seven slim columns in typical Uzbek teardrop style but as a whole is carries a clear Greek influence – or is it my imagination?

In any case, here I’m standing at the foot of Alexander’s fort – with high expectations and my heartbeat racing at 200 miles/hour! This fortress however looks more like a huge clump of earth eroded by rain and wind, baked by the sun. What am I looking for?

Uzbek sources relate that Alexander instructed one of his generals, a certain Farhangi-Sarhang (“Sarhang” meaning as much as “Officer” I learn later on), to build a fort that even he could not take. What a challenge! Alexander left for other conquests and when he returned and saw the fort, he shouted orders to open the gates for him. His faithful general refused bluntly. Alexander I’m sure was far from happy with this response, how dared his general refuse! He had no other choice but to charge the attack, yet to no avail. That certainly must have stirred his blood. I immediately picture a frantic Alexander, pacing back and forth – maybe even having one of his Macedonian fits that some authors attribute to him. To put it mildly however, he certainly must have been quite frustrated and pretty angry for not being able to take this very fort. He gave up. At this point, the general gave orders to open the gates and walked out towards Alexander with a broad smile on his face no doubt, claiming that he had successfully executed his king’s orders. End of story. I have found no trace of this event in any book but my local guide assures me that it is very present in Uzbek’s literature. I find the foundation of Nur and the construction of the fortress south of the town on Wikipedia but no trace of this general unfortunately, but then his name may be Persian and the question is what would the Greek translation sound like. It seems that east and west still have difficulty talking to each other … Many stories from the east have not made it to the Greek homeland hence into our western literature. One example are the recent discoveries made by Edward Rtveladze, member of the Academy of Science in Uzbekistan, who carried out meticulous excavation expeditions to find the traces of Alexander during his campaigning in Bactria and Sogdiana (see above). His conclusions are written down in Russian, I’m still trying to get a hold of them in English!

Today as in Alexander’s time, the location of this fortress at the southern end of Nurata is a very strategic one, i.e. at the very edge where agricultural land turns into wild steppe. In fact, it was an ideal place for the king to gather his army in formation before attacking neighboring tribes, while in later years it was an ideal refuge for rebels and outcasts. This fortress surrounded by large walls and supporting towers must have looked like a small town with an inner core, the Shahristan, measuring 500x500 meters. The Uzbeks say it is one of the most important monuments of Uzbekistan – how far does patriotism reach, I wonder?

I finally start my precarious climb over a smooth surface of thick pounded clay, hard as stone after centuries of weathering. There is hardly any path and this trail is extremely steep and slippery because of the dust with no handrail for security and no tree or brush to stop your fall if you lose grip. I walk over what looks like an ancient wall with a gaping void to my left and an ellipse shaped depth to my right. About halfway small cluster of grass have found a foothold and the courageous pilgrims like me have attached a wish ribbon to the meagre blades, an old habit to ask favours from the gods. Shall I tie my wish also and ask for Alexander’s protection on my climb?

I stop to catch my breath and look over my shoulder, scared to move too much and loose my balance on this narrow edge. Best to ignore my fear. Instead I’m rewarded by a magnificent view over the city of Nurata beneath me, a truly green oasis in this inhospitable land. At last, I reach the top, or rather the basis of the huge earthen clump crowned with a defacing antenna on top (could they not have found another outcrop to plant this mast, I wonder irritated?). In the lower part of this clump I clearly see rows of sturdy adobe bricks, meaning that at the top of the construction the outer core has kind of “melted” these bricks but they still are there underneath – after all these centuries…? From my high outlook post I admire the mountain range which provided and still provides the precious spring water, the desert steppe at its feet and on my left the big blot with the houses of Nurata. It is a lonely windy place though, certainly not the kind of reward any garrison soldier would seek and certainly not any of Alexander’s veterans whom he relocated on so many occasions. History really comes alive up here!

Time to start my descent and I decide to risk my life stepping carefully down the hollow part – not exactly the safest choice, but then Alexander faced greater dangers and I gain courage. I land safely at the foot of what seems to be central building. What a shame they didn’t put up some directions or a map of what this fortress could have looked like – they are asking a lot of my otherwise so fertile imagination. I walk to the back of the fortress where a thick wall once served the defences, now flanked by a modern wall and a row of poplars surrounded by garbage plastic bottles and other rubbish. Here too I can see the sundried bricks at the bottom of the walls and I wonder if they indeed date back to Alexander’s days or if they are from a later date … The sun breaks through and it all looks so much more appealing. What an adventure!

Click here to read Episode 13 of Central Asia