Dura Europos, last stop on the Euphrates

After Deir Ezzor, Rasaffa, and Halabia, I am heading for Dura Europos, Syria's most southeastern frontier garrison on the Euphrates. The landscape is as barren as the northeastern desert corner of Jordan, and it is hard to imagine that Mesopotamia once was so fertile and consequently so prosperous. Instead, I suddenly see a row of sand dunes, but so straight that they must be manmade. And they are, for these are drift-sands that accumulated against the walls of Dura Europos, the only original Hellenistic fort in the abovementioned series. Approaching from the land side, it is not apparent to appreciate the unique location as the Euphrates only reveals itself once you have penetrated the very heart of the city.

Like Apamea and Deir Ezzor, it was founded around 303 BC by Seleucos. He wanted to build a reliable control post on the Euphrates and new trade routes with his recently founded cities of Antioch-on-the-Orontes and Seleucia-on-the-Tigris. He must have remembered the lessons of his master, Alexander.

Being Hellenistic, it is no surprise that Dura Europos is set up according to the Hippodamian plan with right-angled streets around the large central Agora. The Parthians conquered the city by the end of the second century BC. They stayed till the arrival of the Romans in 165 AD. People of different origins lived in Dura Europos, as testified by papyri and parchment inscribed in Greek, Latin, Aramean, Hebrew, Syriac, the language of Hatra, Palmyrene, Persian, and Pahlavi. But it is mainly the Macedonians who left their indelible imprint on this place.

The main entrance is through the Palmyra Gate, which, although only partially preserved, gives an excellent idea of how this stronghold was conceived. The surrounding massive nine-meter-high ramparts are interrupted by a series of defense towers built, like in Halabia, with the same pink crystal-like gypsum. But it is difficult to get a good overall picture of the site since most of the city is half-buried under the sands. However, on the far left is where the Roman military camp from the third century is located, complete with the commander's palace. 

Following the main street in the direction of the Euphrates, I am pointed to the right, where most of the sixteen temples were situated, worshiped by Christians and pagans alike. The oldest synagogue of Jewish origin is among them, dating according to Aramean inscriptions to 244 AD. Every inch of its walls and ceiling were covered with wonderfully well-preserved frescoes depicting scenes of the Last Judgment. Men and animals from the oldest bible stories are illustrated with vivid images and colorful pictures. The inside of this synagogue has been entirely dismantled and moved to the Archaeological Museum of Damascus, which is worth a visit if only for this synagogue!

Besides the synagogue, there are temples dedicated to Mithras, Baal, and Adonis, proof that Jews, Christians, and pagans lived together in this multicultural city. The first traces of the Mithras Temple go back to the period 168-171, i.e., Roman times. Still, the wall paintings clearly show Parthian influences because Mithras wears Parthian trousers, boots, and a pointed bonnet. It is known that, although the Mithras cult originated in Iran, this God was very popular with the Romans. More exciting finds were made in other buildings, like mural frescos, inscriptions, military outfits such as painted wooden shields, and a complete horse harness, also exhibited at the Museum of Damascus.

 At the bottom of these temples, a small museum has been set up. Although the best pieces are in Damascus, I am happy to see the mural marriage ceremony with priests wearing their funny-looking Phrygian hats – a copy of the original in Damascus. Here, at least, I am allowed to take a picture! Interestingly, the graffiti from the Palmyra Gate helps to better understand the real one.

A last attempt to save Dura Europos was made during the siege of the Persian Sassanids led by King Shapur I in the year 256. The local museum proudly exhibits a copy of a relief from Bishapur, Iran, portraying Shapur in state riding his horse - a man with presence. During the siege, he devised a masterly strategy when he dug tunnels underneath the city walls to undermine them. In a desperate attempt to increase their survival chances, the Romans immediately filled all the buildings and spaces behind the city walls with sand to reinforce them. At the same time, they worked with might and main to fill up the Sassanid tunnels underneath, but there were simply too many corridors and ramifications, leading to the ultimate defeat of the Romans. This is how Shapur conquered Dura Europos. He razed the city to the ground and sold its population as slaves. Part of the destroyed walls is still visible in the southwest corner. However, many survived since the Romans had choked all the buildings close to the walls with sand. Among them was the synagogue with its famous frescoes.

Dura Europos was never rebuilt and disappeared from history until it was rediscovered in 1920. Serious excavations started in 1932 when said frescoes from the synagogue were brought to light. It is pretty unique that the wall paintings display animals and people, together with a Torah shrine on the western wall, i.e., the direction of Jerusalem.

Close to the Euphrates, one cannot miss the elongated remains of the fine Seleucid Citadel, strategically set on its own outcrop, guarding the bend in the river. Such great builders! 

Walking back to the Palmyra Gate, I recognize a square Bouleuterion, but the only information I can find mentions a Baptistery on this spot; this square is supposed to be a shallow pool used by Christian believers to be baptized. The public was evidently seated on the tiers around the basin.

 And then, in January 2009,  Dura Europos made the headlines as new research confirmed that during the Persian invasion, poison gas had been used for the first time in history against the Roman defenders. This conclusion was made based on twenty Roman soldier remains at the foot of the city walls. Analysis showed the product was a mixture of bitumen and sulfur crystals set afire. The gases were directed toward the enemy using several bellows and underground chimneys. Previous speculations about this technique existed, for instance, with the Spartans during the Peloponnese War (400 BC) and from Chinese texts about warfare (500 BC). Still, the theory has just been proven. Quite unbelievable, isn't it?

[For more pictures, click on the album Cities along the Euphrates]

Rasaffa, Syria – a Border town on the Euphrates

“All the land west of the Euphrates and his daughter in marriage” is what King Darius III promised to Alexander in exchange for his family, which had fallen into the hands of the Macedonian King after the Battle of Issus. I can’t help remembering these words when I stare at the fast-flowing waters of the River Euphrates on my journey, along with the many remains of mainly Roman forts on the Arabian Limes in Syria.

The first such fortification I meet after leaving Aleppo southwards is (Al-)Rasaffa in the middle of a flat, monotonous desert landscape. The first settlers here were the Assyrians in the 9th century BC, who set up a military camp. It became a desert outpost during Roman occupation whose role was mainly to keep out the Sassanids from Persia. Rasaffa flourished as it was an essential link on the caravan routes linking Aleppo to Dura Europos and Palmyra. After the Romans, it turned into a destination for pilgrims in honor of Saint Sergius. This Roman officer had converted to Christianity and was martyred in 305 because of his beliefs. This happened during the reign of Diocletian, who persecuted everybody who refused to sacrifice to Jupiter.

According to early Christian documents, Sergius and Bacchus were Roman officers and favorites of Emperor Maximian (who co-ruled for a while with Diocletian) till they openly admitted that they were Christians. The punishment for such an insult was horrible. Sergius and Bacchus were ordered to dress up as women and march through the streets. They were chastised so severally that Bacchus died. Sergius’ agony wasn’t over yet, and it is reported that boards were nailed to his feet to force him to walk to his beheading.

By the fifth century, these martyrs were so famous that the church above Sergius’ grave was restored, and Emperor Justinian I changed the name of Rasaffa into Sergiopolis, which is still used alternatively. In 616, Rasaffa succumbed to the Persian Sassanids and eventually the Umayyads. One of their Caliphs, Hisham, was very interested in architecture, and he took care to rebuild the city and elected it as his summer residence. Like its neighbors, Rasaffa was ultimately destroyed by the Persian Abbasids, and the Mongols completed the job in 1247. Today, the only people we see here are the local Bedouins tending their sheep.

The layout of Rasaffa is typical Roman, mainly thanks to the Byzantine Emperor Anastase: a large walled square of 300 x 500 meters sitting on the hard steppe soil at the edge of the desert. What makes Rasaffa unique is the local pink gypsum crystal rocks used for its construction. It is very similar to quartz, and its effect is sublime as its particles reflect the sunlight into millions of sparkles.

The entrance gates are located in the middle of each wall, the northern gate being the principal one with three arches guarded on each side by a square bastion. This is the starting point of the Cardo Maximus with its houses, shops, storage areas, and even the so-called “Tetraconch” church. This church has the shape of the Byzantine cross that was very popular in Byzantine times. It seems that the origin of this kind of church is to be found here in Syria. This church is also known as the Martyrium, a marvelous construction with capitals and arches that look like lacework. 

Further, down the Cardo, I come across three enormous underground water cisterns with their adjacent water distribution system – extremely ingenious! The largest cistern measures 58 x 22 meters, and the water level could rise to 13 meters. The inner walls are still covered with a waterproof coat of cement. Based on these reservoirs, scholars were able to calculate the size of Rasaffa’s population. The city had no spring and no access to running water and depended on these large cisterns to collect the rain that fell mainly in winter and spring.

From here, I make a left turn towards the Great Basilica dedicated to Saint Sergius, dating from 559, where the bodies of Sergius and Bacchus were interred. This church is also shining in its exquisite quartz-like stones. The triple-aisled Christian church is intermingled with the large square hall used in the 13th and 14th centuries as a mosque. Two alcoves of the church were promoted to mihrabs. It is pretty interesting to see how the Christians and Muslims lived side by side during the Middle Ages, as an inscription tells us. Curiously enough, I miss these mihrabs altogether, fascinated by the oval-shaped bema in the very middle of the Basilica, hardly a few steps higher than the surrounding floor – a rather unique feature. This church became an important pilgrimage site in the East. The Byzantine army considered Sergius and Bacchus as their protectors, and many more sanctuaries were dedicated to them. Today, these saints are still the patrons of the Christian nomads. 

Close to this Basilica and the breach in the southeastern corner of the city walls, I find the remains of the palace which Caliph Hisham built for himself. In this square building, all the rooms lay around the central courtyard. Unfortunately, consecutive destructions have destroyed most of the palace.

Otherwise, not much remains today to testify to Rasaffa’s grandeur. The city looks pretty desolate with deep pits all around you: craters that testify of unfortunate vandalism. Treasure hunters always managed to find a way to possible hidden fortunes. 

To make the story about Saint Sergius complete, I also visit the Monastery of Mar Sarkis (i.e., Saint Sergius) between Damascus and Homs, just before Maalula. Here the Aramaic language is still very much alive. This 4th-century monastery was built on top of an earlier pagan temple high on top of a nearby gorge. The access door roughly hewn in the crude rock is a low one, meant to impose humility on the visitor, and is said to be “very old” – just how old remains vague, for everything inside looks timeless. The church is divided into three aisles and is definitely Byzantine. Its walls are reinforced by wooden beams incorporated horizontally between the layers of stone to make the construction earthquake-proof. So smart! Thanks to these wooden beams and carbon-dating technology, it has been established that the church is 2,000 years old. Initially, these walls were enhanced with frescos, and a few exposed parts reveal scenes with wonderfully fresh colors.

A striking element is a central altar in the shape of a horseshoe dedicated to Saint Sergius, entirely made of marble with a 7 cm high border, typical of an early Christian example. In fact, it has all the elements of a pagan altar except that there is no gutter to evacuate the blood of the sacrificed animals. I find this terribly exciting – never heard about it and certainly never seen any! The northern altar is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, a simple square shape with an edge of 4 cm high and without the pagan gutter. Otherwise, several original Byzantine icons represent the Mother of God, a double icon of the Crucifixion of Christ and the Last Supper, and one of a sitting John the Baptist smiling – quite unusual. Well, so much for Saint Sergius or Mar Sarkis anyway.

[Click here for more pictures of the cities along the Euphrates]

Zeugma, Border-town along the Euphrates River

Looking at the map of Syria, it is undeniable that most of its cities are concentrated in the west, along or close to the Mediterranean Sea. As soon as we turn to the east, the landscape becomes pretty desolate until we reach the Euphrates River, where a narrow stretch of land on either side is cultivated thanks to irrigation. The only road here follows the river's bends, dotted with occasional settlements frozen in a timeless time.

The Romans handily used the river as a natural frontier and built an entire string of forts in the style of the “limes” along the Rhine River, the Arabic Limes. They needed them as protection against possible invasions, mainly by the Sassanids from Persia. Looking at the map, we find a succession of towns and strongholds erected on the Euphrates River's western bank. Starting upstream, I read names like Zeugma, Hierapolis, Barablissos (on Lake Assad), Sura (where the Euphrates turns east), Rasaffa, Halabiye, Dura Europos, all the way down to Babylon in today’s Iraq. I think it is worthwhile to take a closer look at these names to see what they stand for and what heritage they have left for us.

Although there may have been some kind of fort at this location, it is generally agreed that Zeugma was founded by Seleucos I Nicator, one of Alexander’s generals, in 300 BC under the name of Seleucia-on-the-Euphrates. It was a strategic location on the trade route to the east connecting Antioch-on-the-Orontes with China. In 64 BC, this prosperous city was conquered by the Romans, who named it Zeugma, meaning as much as the “bridge of boats,” probably because of the pontoon bridge across the Euphrates River, which constituted, at that time, the border with the Persian Empire.

In 66 AD, the Romans had a particular legion (the Fourth Legion Scythica) stationed at Zeugma to protect their empire against invasions from the Parthians and Armenians. The soldiers must have spent their money lavishly if we consider the wealth in mosaics and frescoes that have been discovered. By the time the Romans annexed the Commagene Empire in 72 AD, the city had reached its highest prosperity, and the population must have risen to 80,000 people at least. But, like always, good times don’t last. In 256, Zeugma was invaded by the Sassanid King Shapur I with catastrophic consequences from which the city never recovered, especially since its decline was amplified by the violent earthquake that buried most of it. During the 5th and 6th centuries, it became part of the Byzantine Empire, and after ongoing Arab raids, it was abandoned again. We had to wait till the 10th and 12th centuries for a small Abbasid town to arise in Zeugma.

Zeugma reached headlines in 1990 when the Dam of Ataturk on the Euphrates was completed as part of the vast GAP project that covers both the Euphrates and the Tigris. This is the fourth largest dam in the world and belongs with 22 others to this project developed to irrigate a territory as large as Belgium. Thousands of people were expelled from their homes and lands as the remains of old Zeugma were flooded forever. Archaeologists worldwide scrambled to save whatever they could before the river and sediments obliterated the ruins. I consider such an act of destruction unforgivable. A proud city that withstood eons has to make way for money and politics, more so if you think that a dam has an average lifespan of 30 to 40 years, after which the irrigated lands become worthless because of the heavy alkali (salt) deposits in the soil. Besides, other countries located downstream of the Euphrates, like Syria, Iran, and Iraq, are claiming and fighting for their share of the water, with little result, I’m afraid.

The excavation work done in extremis at Zeugma has brought many gorgeous mosaics to light, which have been transferred to the nearby museum in Gaziantep. A few remains of plastered and painted walls have also been saved, together with some columns, statues, and all kinds of smaller household objects, coins, etc.

The mosaics, however, are of exceptional quality and very well preserved. They mainly pertain to one single villa with endless rooms paved with familiar scenes of gods and goddesses. For instance, Poseidon, Oceanus, and his sister/wife Tethys; a large floor mosaic of Oceanus and Tethys together; the classical birth of Aphrodite; Perseus who saved Andromeda from certain death; a lively scene of Daidalos and his son Ikarios; a picture of Demeter from a doorway; the river god Acheloos, King of Euphrates on one of the frames; a very colorful rendering of the wedding of Dionysus; a clearly Roman representation of Eros and Psyche; an absolutely fascinating gypsy girl, Gaia, with penetrating eyes; another Dionysus, this time with Bakkha under supervision of Niké; a devilish portrait of Silenos, companion of Dionysus; another image of Methiokos who was in love with Partenope; the god of the Euphrates in all his majesty; Achilles (Akhilleus) from a courtyard that once held a central fountain; a vivid portrait of Europa; Poseidon on his horse-drawn chariot with a bust of Oceanus and Tethys in the foreground; and many, many more. I had to scramble to see them all within the allotted time for the museum visit, and I didn’t want to miss the various wall frescos that were put back in their original place around the floor mosaics. An exquisite collection that is absolutely worth a visit by itself!

According to the latest news, there may still be some parts of Zeugma that remain visible to the anxious tourist, but I have yet to be there to see them for myself. I was lucky, after all, to have paid a visit to the magnificent collection at the Museum of Gaziantep!

Organized Looting in Syria

Syria seems to be on the verge of a civil war, by itself a most frightening and disruptive situation for all parties involved and especially for the civilians who receive the heaviest blows. Nothing has changed in this world over the centuries, unfortunately. Yet beside the human sufferings and losses, there is always the inevitable destruction of our remnants from the past. Buildings, temples, graves, theatres together with precious statues and artefacts sheltered in the museums are now under threat. Testimonies that go back hundreds and thousands of years, which have been meticulously and lovingly restored and returned to their glorious days of eons past are now succumbing to shooting, looting and other destructions.

Places with ringing names like Palmyra, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, are now being damaged by the ongoing internal conflicts. In Palmyra, the Syrian Army has set up a base on the hill just behind the Roman ruins and firing on them from the ancient strategic position of the citadel and there is nothing we or the UNESCO can do about it. A group that goes by the name “Syrian Archaeological Ruins in Danger” has set up a Facebook space for people to share the news and make us aware of the destruction that threatens the cultural heritage of Syria, especially since reports of actual gunfire on the ruins came through.

Looting is another problem, although not a new one but with no strict reinforcement whatsoever, it is easy to smuggle artefacts over the border to antiquities markets in Europe and the United States. Recently a memo written by the Syrian Prime Minister Adel Safar addressed to the ministers of Culture and Finance as well as to the Governor of the Central Bank has leaked. Safar claims that “professional international gangs” have brought “equipment and satellite communication devices for stealing manuscripts and robbing museums, safes, and banks” (see Global Heritage Fund). Well, whether international or local communities are at fault or not, repeated looting is unfortunately a fact.

In the same article I read that security in Syria’s 25 antiquities museums is being compromised by the ongoing conflict. Provincial museums are hit the hardest as they are spread all over the country near the pertaining excavation sites. Moving their contents to safer locations seems not to be feasible in the present circumstances. I recall the remote locations along the Euphrates, Rasaffa, Halabia, Deir Ezzor, Dura Europos and most ancient Mari … All so close to the Iraqi border, still looking out over the bare desert from their lonely spot. What a mess!