Shushtar’s waterworks in Iran

Lately, pictures of the Shushtar waterworks in Central Iran keep circulating, underscoring that they are registered as a Unesco World Heritage Site. More importantly, they have been dated back to the 5^th century BC and were probably initiated by King Darius the Great. 

[Picture from Wikipedia]

Localizing Shushtar on a map is one thing but linking it to a known city or river is another matter. Then I read that the water was diverted from the Karun River using manmade canals dug through the natural rock. 

The Karun River rings bell as I spent a night in the city of Ahwaz not far from Susa and could see this river from my hotel room (see: The Zagros Mountains and the Persian Gates in Alexander’s footsteps). The memorable city of Susa (see: Susa with its unique glazed brick walls) where Alexander organized his lavish wedding ceremony in 324 BC, lies no more than three kilometers away from the Karun River (Pasitigris in antiquity), and joins the Tigris River further south. In those days, these waterways were navigable and a priceless connection to the Persian Gulf. 

The above makes me believe that Alexander must have seen this intricate water complex. Thanks to a systems of qanats (see: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind), the river provided water for domestic use and irrigation of the surrounding agricultural fields. Surprisingly, the main crop was sugar cane. 

Over the centuries, the infrastructure was improved with more canals, tunnels, dams, and watermills. In the early years of the Sassanid Empire, starting in 224 AD, Shushtar occupied an island in the middle of the Karun River and became the summer capital of the kings. The city was reachable from the east, west, and south through entrance gates and bridge crossings. 

Three large dams were built by the Sassanids between 224 and 651 AD. They regulated the river and the manmade channel’s flow to supply water to the city and cultural land around it. 

The largest dam, constructed by Roman soldiers and engineers was about 500 meters long. It dates from 260 AD, shortly after the glorious victory of King Shapur I over the Roman Emperor Valerian (see: Sassanid reliefs tell a story of their own). The dam was the core structure of the Shushtar Water System. It is said to be the most eastern Roman construction of its kind. The bridge with Roman arches supported the road that led from Pasargadae to Ctesiphon, the capital of the Sassanid Empire (now in Iraq). 

To prevent erosion, the riverbed above the dam was paved with large slabs tied together with iron clamps. 

[Picture from Tehran Times]

The pictures of Shushtar reveal how impressive these waterworks were. Later Arab conquerors defined Shushtar as one of the wonders of the world.

Alexander the Great was here, and so was I by Leonidas Argyraspid

Alexander the Great was here, and so was I by Leonidas Argyraspid (ISBN 9789090339016) is obviously my own work.

The book, as a  matter of fact, was conceived in the wake of my travels and the stories I shared on this blog. As expected, the work can be used both as a travel guide, as well as a historical guide to follow Alexander the Great on his way through history.

Since my earliest visits to Greece, Alexander was my faithful travel companion. Eventually, I was able to follow him into modern-day countries such as Albania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, Egypt, Libya, Iran and Uzbekistan.

I realized that standing on the banks of the Granicus, skirting the Zagros Mountains, or crossing the Oxus River on foot gave me a unique insight into the world Alexander conquered. Those occasions created a perspective of his whereabouts that shed an entirely new light on the events recounted otherwise.

After each trip, I returned home with scores of stories about the heritage left by Alexander and the Hellenistic Era he initiated. It is those stories that I have bundled together in my book, which I have richly illustrated with a selection from my extensive picture collection. The choice of my photographs was a difficult one but my readers can enjoy many more views by picking their choice from the Picture Gallery list on this blog.

Visitors to my blog certainly know that my travels and encounters with Alexander were a most wonderful and exhilarating experience, which I have developed further in Alexander the Great was here, and so was I.

It is with great pleasure that I share my many impressions with my appreciative audience.

P.S. For those who can’t wait, a select extract of approx. 25 pages of this book is available (free of charge) at Academia.edu.

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.

In as far 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, are 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!

The Zagros Mountains and the Persian Gates in Alexander’s footsteps

Upon arrival in Tehran, my first thought was: can I see the Elburz Mountains from here? Tehran is known to be rather polluted, hence my question. But I was very lucky because on this early spring morning, the wind had swept the skies clean, and from a vantage point near the Azadi Tower or Freedom Tower, I was widely rewarded with a magnificent panorama of the snow-capped Elburz Mountains. This is what Alexander must have seen and I could almost feel his yearning to cross this barrier to discovering the lands on the other side.

A while ago, I read the book, The Road to Oxiana, in which Robert Byron describes how refreshing that part of the country was after having traveled for weeks in a row through dust and desert. He compares it to Austria till the rolling hills turn into the marshy reed fields around the Caspian Sea. I was itching to see all this for myself, but my itinerary was to take me south.

I picked up Alexander’s route in Susa which he reached in 331 BC on his way from Babylon to Persepolis, a distance of some 800 km. Somewhere south of Susa, the Macedonian army crossed the Pasitigris River, known today as the Karun River, which was and still is navigable all the way down to its confluence with the Tigris River, which in turn empties into the Persian Gulf. I feel quite excited when spending the night in the city of Ahwaz I can see this river from my room. By magic and in spite of all the oil plants and other polluting industries on its banks, this river in my imagination returns to its “natural” setting from antiquity.

We all know that Alexander was unstoppable but being here makes me realize the huge distances he had to cover with his entire army and the inevitable baggage train - an exploit by itself. Traveling here in the comfort of an air-conditioned bus for three long days is hard enough, but it is only when I get out of this protective shell that I can taste a little of what he had experienced. On this journey, we were hit by a heavy sandstorm for a full day. Visibility was very low; the sands from the Mesopotamian Valley in modern Iran were carried through the air and hit my face and body. My clothes flapped around me as if they were to be torn away any moment; the wind whistled through the lunch place and the sand battered the windows. Alexander must have known days like this but weather conditions are not a topic for a history book.

Like Alexander, I was skirting the Zagros Mountains as the modern road generally follows his route and I just can’t get enough of it! These mountains are very rugged and barren, hostile if compared to the Taurus Mountains, for instance. When the road bends away it is not uncommon to see the snow on the highest peaks; driving through these foothills I see lots of loose rocks ready to be rolled down on the enemy in the canyons below as mentioned by our writers from antiquity. I was truly moving through history!

When still preparing for this trip I got rather confused between Arrian’s description of Alexander’s crossing the Zagros at the Persian Gates as opposed to what is told by Diodorus and Curtius making me wonder if there were three separate skirmishes in these canyons. Since these stories are vague, I wondered how I could figure this out. Apparently, I was not the first to be taken by surprise here and I am grateful to A.B. Bosworth (see:”Conquest and Empire. The Reign of Alexander the Great”) for having tackled the problem. He is certain there were three separate encounters with the Persians in the Zagros Mountains.

Once Alexander had crossed the Pasitigris, he entered the territory of the Uxians. Their lower fertile lands were occupied by agriculturalists and were governed by a satrap, a relative of Darius to keep matters in the family. The mountainlands, mainly grazing fields for cattle, did not fall under Persian rule, except that the Great King would pay a passage fee when he crossed this territory. Alexander first encountered the lowlands’ satrap blocking the highway. He attacked these forces head-on while a detachment of his army circumvented the enemy using a side path leading them to a higher position above the enemy. The satrap withdrew to a fortress from where he negotiated terms involving Queen Mother Sisygambis to mediate – successfully so.

Alexander next encountered the mountain people who demanded money for his passage through their lands. He invited them to meet him at the canyon entrance, but unknown to his enemy he force-marched his troops to sack and loot the nearest Uxian villages. At the same time, Alexander himself occupied the canyon entrance before the Uxians could man it; Craterus with his men held the heights above the pass. The Uxians were trapped on all sides and the majority of them were killed; the survivors were condemned to pay a heavy annual tribute of livestock to Alexander.

This tactic against the mountain Uxians is indeed the very same as applied by Alexander when forcing the Persian Gates further south. I cannot take my eyes off the road and the landscape, fully aware that Alexander and his troops must have marched around here.

Parmenion with the heavier units and the baggage train took the long paved road around the mountains and must have followed the natural terrain of the modern road to reach Persepolis. Alexander, in a hurry to reach the capital before the treasury was looted by the satrap of the province of Persia, took a shortcut through these mountains, a passage known as the Persian Gates. At some point, and certainly not exactly where Alexander turned off the highway, my road enters the Zagros Mountains through deep cuts between the narrow towering walls. When the walls recede the hillside is strewn with heavy loose rocks at times only held in place by precarious bushes that could easily be cut or uprooted. In my mind, I am in the thick of the fight!

But let’s go back to our history books that give a far more detailed description of the king’s strategy at the Persian Gates than during his fights with the Uxians, were it only because the stakes were much and much higher in the case of Persepolis.

The ruling satrap Alexander had to face was Ariobarzanes, who had already built a defense wall across the pass and manned it accordingly. Alexander tried to assault the pass but had to give up because the place was too well defended and he lost too many of his men. From his prisoners-of-war, he learned of another way round – a mere track, rough and narrow, but that’s all Alexander needed. Craterus remained behind with instructions to attack after receiving the trumpet signal from Alexander when he was safely around. For the king and his troops, this must have been quite an exploit, scrambling over this terrain at night (seeing it by daylight is bad enough!). At a certain point, he directed Philotas over a different road towards the Persian defenses to lead the second assault. Ptolemy was left to the north of the passage to deal with stragglers trying to evade Alexander. The masterly plan worked to perfection. Alexander led the front attack, destroying two advance fortifications and forcing the Persians to retreat behind the third one on the mountainside. He then directed his attention towards the Persian camp proper while trumpeting Craterus into action from the other side. The Persians were caught in between the two armies and tried to flee to the south, but this is where Philotas was waiting for them. Ptolemy swept up the remnants of the Persians, although Ariobarzanes managed to escape with a small party seeking refuge at Persepolis. The city’s garrison refused to let him enter and eventually, he was killed by the advancing Macedonians.

To me, all these canyons look alike, and for many years, scholars discussed the possible location of these Persian Gates, without much success. Until Jona Lendering was finally able in 2004 to confirm that Alexander had actually fought through the Tang-e Meyran Pass not too far from Yasuj, based on earlier reconnoitering carried out by Henri Speck.

Most travelers will find this long drive along the Zagros Mountains rather boring and very dusty, but for me, it brought Alexander’s genial attack to life when he outwitted and annihilated the Persian forces who were supposed to defend Persepolis.

[Click here to watch all pictures of the Zagros Mountains]

Susa with its unique glazed brick walls

If you look at the map, Susa is situated almost on the same line as Babylon but away from the Mesopotamian valley, in the foothills of the Zagros Mountains. More importantly, Susa was no more than three kilometers away from the Pasitigris River (modern Karun) which flowed into the Tigris further south and was navigable all the way – a priceless connection to the Persian Gulf.

[Map from Precept Austin]

It had taken Alexander twenty days of a leisurely march to cover the 365 km that separated Babylon from Susa in late November of 331 BC. Here, he installed Sisygambis, Darius’ mother, as well as her grandchildren, who had traveled with him since the aftermath of the Battle of Issus in 333 BC. Curtius and Diodorus mention that Alexander provided teachers for them to learn the Greek language. Nobody ever tells us whether over the years the Macedonian king learned the Persian language but he must certainly have picked up some of it, being as smart as he was.

Immediately after his victory at Gaugamela in early October 331 BC, Alexander sent his trusted officer, Philoxenus, to Susa to make sure that the city would surrender with its legendary treasures. Apparently, the mission was successful for upon reaching the banks of the Pasitigris River, Alexander was met by the satrap of Susa, Abulites, who brought him splendid gifts including camels and elephants, and escorted him personally to the winter capital of the Achaemenid Empire. Here, the Treasury of Susa was handed over, intact. This meant a bullion of 40,000 talents of gold and silver and 9,000 talents in gold darics, the largest amount Alexander ever collected in one take.

I have no idea what is left of the city of Susa itself if anything at all. What I find is a scorching hot plateau with neatly reconstructed mud-brick walls up to one-meter high belonging to the palace with at its heart the Apadana. Like its namesake at Persepolis, this Apadana is filled with stubs of columns only. Bits and pieces of columns and their capitals have been piled up together on the side, except for one lonely double-headed bull capital placed under a protective roof. I remember the capital, now at the Louvre Museum in almost perfect condition. My heart aches to look over the remains of this once so grand a palace – hard to imagine what it must have looked like. Interestingly the very stone on which the king’s throne once stood is still in situ.

There are some more remains southwest of the Apadana and it seems that recently one of the entrance gates has been restored, evidently in mud bricks, but without a proper plan I cannot really figure this out. French archaeologists excavated the site in the 1890s and the agreement at that time was that they should leave everything gold and silver in Iran, but that they could take everything else with them. They obviously did. To make things worse (at least in our concept of the 21st century), all the leftover mud bricks and debris were used by the French archaeologists to build their living quarters and storage areas. This building that looks like a castle has been converted into a local museum.

Knowing the superb glazed-brick reliefs that are housed at the Louvre, I find it even more difficult to imagine the splendor and grandeur of this palace in Alexander’s and Sisygambis’ days. After all, it was the setting for the Susa mass wedding that took place here in 324 BC after Alexander returned from India.

Seven years after he had left the Persian Royal princesses in Susa Alexander arranged not only his own wedding but that of about ninety members of his court as well. The stage was set for an elaborate, colossal, and most expensive marriage ceremony. Standing here on the Susa plateau, I wonder where the famous ceremonial tent was set up, most likely somewhere at the foot of this plateau for how else could the ninety-two bridal suites be fitted in, more so since the whole hall was almost half a mile in circumference. In any case, it has been recorded that the hall contained a hundred bedrooms, each furnished with a lavishly decorated bed with linen sheets, and each worth half a talent of silver. Alexander’s bed, of course, had legs of gold – nothing less. The hall was framed and trimmed with sumptuous draperies woven with animal figures and gold thread, hanging down from gilt and silver rods; purple carpets embroidered with gold were spread out. The huge tent was held up by thirty-foot-high columns that were gilded and silvered and set with precious stones.

Alexander sat at the very center surrounded by the other bridegrooms and all his personal friends sat opposite. He took two princesses as his wives, Barsine (renamed Stateira) the eldest daughter of Darius, and Parysatis the youngest daughter of Artaxerxes III. His close friend Hephaistion married Drypetis, another daughter of Darius. The idea behind this marriage was that Alexander wanted their children to be nephews and nieces. The wedding was performed in Persian style; the grooms would have a drink (I suppose a kind of toast) after which the brides were led inside to take place next to their respective husband-to-be. The bridegroom would then take his lady by the hand and kiss her, Alexander being obviously the first to do so. That sealed the marriage.

The ceremonies lasted five days and the banquets were announced by the sound of trumpets. Many entertainers from Greece and Asia performed for Alexander and his noble guests. There was music, songs and recitations, theatre performances with tragedies and comedies in which the greatest artists of those days appeared.

Each of the newlywed couples received a dowry from the king, and on this happy occasion, Alexander even had a special thought for all his Macedonians who had taken Asian wives during his campaigns and granted them a gratuity.

These are the thoughts that rush through my brain as I stand among these scant sun-bleached ruins. There is no sound rising from the city below, no bird, not even a fly to give this site a sense of reality. It seems even the spirits have abandoned the place.

Arbela, near the Battlefield of Gaugamela

Erbil or Arbil is the capital of modern Kurdistan, an independent province in northern Iraq. In antiquity the city was named Arbela, situated north of the Mesopotamian plain where the Battle of Gaugamela took place in 331 BC between the armies of Alexander the Great and Great King Darius III of Persia. Erbil claims to be the world’s oldest continuously occupied settlement (older than Damascus, I wonder?) going back at least 6,000 years.

To the naked eye, Erbil has very little to offer to the curious archaeologist as many houses from the 19th and 20th century are cramped inside the old city walls, right on top of previous constructions. Most everything that is known about this city comes from ancient texts and sporadic artifacts found at other sites in Mesopotamia.

Since last year, the first traces of the ancient city have been revealed thanks to ground-penetrating radar. Two large structures in the center of the citadel may be the remains of the well-known temple dedicated to the goddess of love and war, Ishtar, who was consulted by the Assyrian kings for divine guidance. The Temple of Ishtar is mentioned as early as the 13th century BC, although it may rest on a much older sanctuary. It is said that her temple was made to “shine like the day”, a possible indication that it was coated with electrum (a mixture of silver and gold) that reflected the Mesopotamian sun.

Slowly these new finds give us an insight into the history of Arbela and of its growth since the rise of the mighty Assyrian Empire. This old city was located on a fertile plain and was the local breadbasket for thousands of years. It occupied a key position on the road connecting the Persian Gulf to the Anatolian inland. It is obvious that this prime location was coveted by many of its neighbors, of which the Sumerians may have been the first invaders around 2,000 BC. It is here that Alexander the Great became King of Asia in 331 BC after defeating the Persian King Darius in nearby Gaugamela. Later invaders were the Romans, Genghis Khan in the 13th century, the Afghan warlords in the 18th century and the very recent occupation by Saddam Hussein. Yet, Arbela survived, unlike other great Mesopotamian cities like Babylon or Nineveh.

Unfortunately during the twentieth century much of ancient Arbela fell in disrepair as refugees from the region’s conflicts replaced the town’s people who moved to more spacious housing outside the citadel. Now that these refugees also move to more comfortable accommodation, efforts are starting to renovate the largely mud-brick dwellings. Conservation work enables archaeologists to dig deeper into the mound, meanwhile listed as a World Heritage Site. With the help of aerial photos taken by the British Royal Air Force in the 1950’s, American spy satellite images from the 1960’s, and Cold War satellite imagery, combined with the ancient cuneiform tablets help to pinpoint the best locations for future digging.

It is still difficult to have a good comprehensive overview of such a long history. As far as we know now, Arbela was first mentioned on clay tablets unearthed at Ebla (in modern Syria) dating to circa 2300 BC. A few hundred years later, rulers of Ur in southern Mesopotamia claim to have destroyed the city during repeated and bloody campaigns. By 1200 BC, it is known that it prospered as an important Assyrian trading post where copper, cattle, pomegranates, pistachios, grain and grapes were common goods. At the height of its power in the 7th century BC, Assyria was ruled by kings like Sennacherib, Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal. A court poem found in Nineveh praised the city as “heaven without equal, Arbela!”, and its power is supported by a stone relief from the 7th century BC found at Nineveh showing the formidable city walls and arched gate.

By 612 BC the Assyrian Empire was destroyed and the Medes (maybe the ancestors of today’s Kurds), spared and occupied Arbela, which was still intact when the Persian King Darius I came to power about a century later. Soon the Achaemenid Empire stretched all the way from Egypt to India till Alexander the Great defeated King Darius III in the fall in of 331 BC on the plains of Gaugamela. The Persian king fled across the Greater Zab River to Arbela’s citadel to seek refuge in the Zagros Mountains where he was eventually killed by his own men.

Arbela’s oldest fortification had a 20 meters thick wall with a defensive slope, not unlike the one found at Nineveh, for instance. While most fortifications were rectangular, the wall around Arbela was a round one, enclosing both the citadel and the lower town – something we do find more to the south, in cities like Ur or Uruk. As houses in modern Erbil are being abandoned, the archaeologists have a good opportunity to start their investigations. It is very rewarding to discover a tomb with vaulted chamber of baked bricks that can be dated to the 7th century BC and definitely is Assyrian.

Using modern technology, some 77 square miles have been mapped containing some 214 archaeological sites going back as far as 8,000 years! It is not easy to account for a city’s history over such a long period of time, especially when that city is still being inhabited. After the Assyrians were gone came the Persians followed by the Greeks, and eventually Arbela became an essential outpost on the Roman frontier and the capital of the Province of Assyria. With the spreading of Christianity new communities flourished and the Sassanids ruled till the arrival of Islam in the 7th century AD.

Even today, Erbil makes the headlines with the conflicts in northern Iraq. Inevitably a great deal of the city’s heritage is doomed to disappear in modern warfare, but let’s hope for the best. Maybe, just maybe one day we may discover the treasures still buried underneath the old citadel and maybe even a small proof that Alexander and his army were here some 2,400 years ago.

[Pictures from Archaeology]