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Wednesday, October 15, 2008 - 8:53 AM
The Atlantic
Turkish Bath

Après le déluge: This 14th century tower would remain above water—unlike almost everything in this view from it.
(Photo credits: Christina Davidson)
Turkish Bathby:Christina Davidson
Life moves slowly in
Hasankeyf, a town on the banks of the Tigris in the heavily Kurdish
region of far southeastern Turkey. Geography and political unrest have
kept the modern world largely at bay. During my recent visit, Ali, a
local artisan, demonstrated his trade for me—weaving rugs on a loom
built by his grandfather, working in a room hewn from the limestone
cliffs by a more distant ancestor.
Also see:
Christina Davidson explores the ancient treasures of a city soon to be submerged in water
Then the 21st century intruded, in the form of a lumbering Ankara
Express bus. A group of Chinese tourists filed out, then stood in
silence, absorbing the centuries of history before them. Archaeologists
believe Hasankeyf may be one of the oldest continuously inhabited
settlements in the world, dating back some 10,000 years. The cliffs
lining the river are speckled with gaping black holes—homes carved out
of the soft rock by cave dwellers thousands of years ago. What remains
of a citadel built by the Byzantines in the fourth century A.D.,
and later expanded and reinforced by the Artukids and Ayyubids, rises
above the city. Other ruins show the influence of Assyrians, Romans,
Seljuks, Mongols, Ottomans—successive waves of conquerors who fought
for dominance of the lucrative trading routes in northern Mesopotamia.
Hasankeyf may soon be hit by another conquering wave—this time, a
watery one that could drown its history. Fifty miles downstream, near
the village of Ilisu, a consortium of German, Swiss, Austrian, and
Turkish contractors is preparing to build a massive hydroelectric dam
that would catch water from the Tigris just before the river spills
into Syria and Iraq. If all goes as planned, most of Hasankeyf will be
submerged by a reservoir. Ali pointed out the projected waterline—about
halfway up the spire of a 15th-century minaret.
It’s not that the ruins went unnoticed during discussions about the
dam. In 1978, the Turkish government declared Hasankeyf a “first
degree” site for archaeological conservation, mandating legal
protection for its ruins. But within five years—a period that saw the
birth of the militant Kurdish group known as the PKK and the escalation
of fighting between Kurds and Turkish security forces—Ankara had
approved plans for the project. The government argues that the dam
will bring power and irrigation to the region; opponents contend that
much of the electricity generated will go to other parts of the
country, and some view the dam as part of an overall effort to
eradicate Kurdish culture. In 2001, the project faltered after an
international campaign persuaded a foreign export-credit agency to
withdraw its support, prompting the contractors to pull out.
Turkey did not give up, however. In August 2006, Prime Minister
Recep Tayyip Erdogan broke ground on the dam. His government had
assembled a new partnership of European contractors and announced
proposals intended to appease foreign critics. Residents of the
affected areas would be relocated; artifacts deemed to have historical
or cultural significance would be moved to higher ground. Of course,
it’s not that easy: some things cannot be moved, and because little of
the area has undergone archaeological excavation, experts can only
speculate about what lies underground. Last year, in a chamber at the
base of a cliff, a security guard uncovered, purely by chance, a
remarkable Roman mosaic—one of several newly discovered artistic works
contradicting previous assumptions that the Roman presence was strictly
military.
Foreign underwriters have warned Turkey that funding is contingent
on certain conditions pertaining to resettlement, the protection of
artifacts, and the project’s environmental impact. Meanwhile, the World
Monuments Fund has added Hasankeyf to its list of the 100 most
endangered sites on Earth. But plans for the dam are proceeding, and
Hasankeyf is on schedule to be flooded in five to seven years. When
this happens, the government says, the area will find itself with new
tourism opportunities: visitors will be drawn by water sports in and
around the reservoir. And although history-minded tourists may no
longer be able to explore Hasankeyf’s archaeology on foot, they might
strap on scuba gear and take a dive through the ruins instead.
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