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  • The riches of Syria

    Day Press News , Syria
    April 2 2011


    The riches of Syria
    (Simon Scott Plummer | Dp-News The telegraph)
    The modern state of Syria, now the focus of so much Western interest,
    lies on one of the great crossroads of history. Babylonians, Hittites,
    Assyrians, Chaldeans, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs,
    Ottomans and the French have all made their mark.

    This extraordinary procession of civilizations has left the country
    with an astonishing range of monuments and a mosaic of religious
    beliefs and ethnic groups. The majority of the population are Sunni
    Muslims but there are Shia Alawite, Druze and Ismaili minorities.
    Armenians, Turkmen and Circassians add to the mix.


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    The Christian presence is diminishing but even more varied. The
    skyline of the Jdeide quarter of Aleppo is punctuated by the domes of
    Maronite, Greek Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Gregorian Armenian and
    Syrian Catholic churches. In the village of Maalula, Arabic has only
    recently replaced Aramaic, which was spoken by Christ, as the language
    of communication. And in Straight Street in Damascus, you can visit
    the supposed house of Ananias, where Paul took refuge after his
    conversion to Christianity, eventually escaping the wrath of the Jews
    in a basket lowered from the city walls.

    As well as its demographic mix, history has bequeathed to Syria an
    extraordinary variety of monuments. Many will be familiar with the
    Roman ruins at Palmyra and Apamea, but these are spring chickens
    compared with the Bronze Age sites of Ebla, Mari and Ugarit.

    Looking forward from the classical era, there are the wall paintings
    of the synagogue of Dura Europos, now in the National Museum in
    Damascus; the Byzantine ruins of Serjilla and of St Simeon's
    Monastery, where one of the sternest ascetics in history spent years
    on a platform on top of a column; and the fortresses thrown up by the
    Emperor Justinian in the desert and on the cold, green waters of the
    Euphrates at Resafe and Halebiye.

    For those with an interest in medieval castles, Syria is the
    apotheosis. For its site, beauty of stone and ingenuity of design,
    Krak des Chevaliers must take the palm. But in Marqab, its walls as
    black as the volcanic rock on which it stands, Sahyun, with its 90
    ft-deep rock-cut ditch, and the massive rectangular keep of Safita,
    western Syria, has a wealth of castles second to none. They are only
    rivaled by the fortifications built by Edward I in North Wales, but
    these cannot match the scale of their Crusader cousins.

    Gigantism is a feature of Syrian monuments and in this respect the
    Arabs have proved no slouches. The centre of Aleppo is dominated by a
    citadel standing on a mound reinforced by a stone glacis and
    surrounded by a huge ditch. Its gateway is a masterpiece of Arab
    military architecture.

    In the south of the country, near the Jordanian border, the fortress
    at Bosra encompasses within its walls and towers a Roman theatre with
    room for between 8,000 and 9,000 spectators. That combination sums up
    the historic splendour of Syria.

    Then there are the great civilian structures, outstanding among them
    the souk at Aleppo; the Ummayad Mosque in Damascus, with its shrine to
    John the Baptist and its tower named after Jesus; and the Ottoman
    legacy of steam baths, none more splendid than the Hamman al-Nasri in
    Aleppo.

    In Aleppo, we wanted to stay in Baron Hotel, patronised by Lawrence of
    Arabia, Agatha Christie, Charles Lindbergh, Amy Johnson, Theodore
    Roosevelt, and my 85-year-old uncle, Nigel Davidson, who had been
    posted to Syria as a Scots Guards officer during the war.

    I suggested that he played the veteran's card. The receptionist was
    melancholic but said he could give us two rooms on the first floor.
    The hotel was at that time extremely dilapidated. The wiring was
    primitive and the bulb in the bedside lamp emitted only five watts of
    light. Removing the plug from the bath simply let the water out onto
    the floor. And the iron railings of the balconies rocked in their
    wooden supports.

    Two nights later, my uncle and I went to a nightclub which he
    remembered from the 1940s. Called the `Casbah Folys', it featured a
    bored Russian troupe and a charming Syrian belly dancer. When we left
    the place, my uncle regretted not having bought her champagne.
    It's a country that leaves an impression like no other. Let us hope
    that, however the present crisis is resolved, it is without more
    bloodshed and destruction.

    http://www.dp-news.com/pages/detail.aspx?l=2&articleId=79642




    From: A. Papazian
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