Exploring Tyre in Lebanon

 

Despite its glorious past, the city of Tyre – located in the south of Lebanon, just a few kilometres away from the borders with Israel – does not enjoy at present the recognition that it deserves. Once a mighty port and a stronghold for each of the numerous forces that passed by its land, Tyre today has been reduced to just another modern town along the Lebanese coastline – chaotically expanded and ugly to its largest part – hosting thousands of refugees, entangled, as seems to be its perpetual fate, in regional politics.

Antiquity

Tyre (or, otherwise, Sur) and Sidon (or Saida) were the two powerful port-cities from where the Phoenician commercial ingenuity spread throughout the Mediterranean, transferring goods, knowledge, ideas, and values. Among other things, Tyre was famous for the production of the so-called “Tyrian purple”: a rare and expensive purple dye produced from the murex shellfish and reserved only for the royal families and the aristocracy.

The Tyrian merchants were considered the first who navigated beyond the pillars of Hercules (that is, the entrance to the Strait of Gibraltar) and formed numerous settlements on the northern coast of Africa, Sicily, Corsica, and Spain. This expansive approach towards the Occident was reflected in mythology, particularly in the tale of Cadmus, Prince of Tyre, who, in his quest for his sister Europa (abducted by Zeus), travelled to the west, founded new cities, and spread the Phoenician alphabet.

Initially, Tyre was split into two parts. On one side, there was the central city which was erected on an island: a rocky formation surrounded by the sea, blessed with the presence of two ports (one of which still exists). On the other side, in the mainland, there was a smaller settlement that supplied the island primarily with water and timber. Water had always been Tyre’s Achilles’ heel: its presence or lack determined the city’s fate several times throughout its history.

Being part of the Persian Empire since the 6th century BC, Tyre was unavoidably attacked by Alexander the Great during his campaigns towards the East. Thanks to its strategic location, the city was practically impregnable. It took more than seven months and significant losses in men, time, and supplies for Alexander the Great to conquer it, which he finally achieved by building a causeway that connected the island with the mainland and allowed his men to reach the fortifications. Over the centuries, this causeway has increased in size so much so that today one cannot make the distinction between the two original parts of the town.

Tyre followed the ups and downs of the regional history, coming under the Hellenistic, the Roman, and the Byzantine occupation, while from the 7th century onwards it turned into a primarily Muslim city, its leadership alternating between the Sunni Seljuks and the Shia Fatimids. All this, until the arrival of the Crusaders whose presence reshaped the dynamics in the area, and offered Tyre the opportunity to, once more, leave an indelible mark in the annals of the region.

The era of the Crusades

When the first Crusaders marched into the Middle East, they found the Muslim Arabs divided, too engrossed into their tribal quarrels to grasp the magnitude of the danger they were facing. Thus, at first, most coastal cities – Tyre included – expressed their alliance to the invaders, believing that they should not disperse their energy to combats other than those in which they were already entangled.

Things changed fast after the fall of Jerusalem in 1099 and that of Tripoli ten years later, in 1109. The invincibility of Tyre attracted many people from Tripoli, Beirut, and Saida who, as they saw their cities falling into the hands of the Franj, rushed to fortify themselves in the only town where they believed, they would be safe. It was precisely this diversity and the ingenuity of these newcomers (especially that of the Tripolitans) that reinforced Tyre’s resistance for another fifteen years. So, while the Arab world was at a complete loss, scattered, disorganised, and disillusioned, two cities – Tyre and Ascalon – became the shining examples of the Arab resistance. The moment that Tyre managed to inflict a defeat on the Franj despite being under siege for 132 days marked the beginning of the Arab revolt against the invaders, while the final capitulation of the town in 1124 sealed the completion of the Frankish invasion.

Fifty years later, and as Sal’ad dhin marched triumphantly into Jerusalem, Tyre became for the Franjs (much as it had been for the Arabs) the haven in which they could live in safety. Despite his strategic vision, Sal’ad dhin failed to grasp the importance of seizing Tyre. He left the city untouched, focusing his attention, energy, and resources on other cities, allowing the Crusaders to keep their stronghold in the region for a hundred more years. It was at the end of the 13th century that Sultan Khalil managed to dismantle once and for all the weakened Franj states in the Middle East, finally annexing Tyre to the Mamluk Empire.

Exploring Tyre today

It was on a summer day – hot and humid as are all summer days in Lebanon – that I visited Tyre for the first time. The road towards the city traversed fertile plains covered in banana and orange tree plantations, while the sides were dotted with countless itinerant merchants selling watermelons, fresh almonds (with their soft green shell), seasonal vegetables, and bottles of rose water or orange blossom.

We parked the car next to the ancient port (the one of the two that still exists) and walked into the alleys of the old town. The churches and the numerous niches that host statues of the Virgin indicated that this is still a Christian district – a remnant from the era of the Crusades. I was slightly taken aback, as I was not expecting to find such a community at the heart of the Lebanese South, but, after all, Lebanon is a patchwork of tribes and different religious populaces who, despite the various clashes, manage to live most of the time in delicate harmony.

 

Tyre’s paved alleys were unexpectedly picturesque, differing from the other coastal towns of the country. There was an abundance of colour and joyfulness coming from the old buildings, the cascading bougainvillaeas, the pots with flowers hanging over our heads, the shady gardens from where the murmur of lazed discussions could be heard, and the touches of creative decorations left here and there as a treat for the eye. The heat had forced everyone to find refuge in the coolness of their homes; only a few tourists – like us – were in the streets, or some Ethiopian maids dragging their feet performing an errand.

We kept walking, sneak-peeking through open doors into yards and houses, trying to get a glimpse of the local life. The population – mostly elderly and female – was engaged in the morning household routine which included cooking and drinking a cup of coffee while chatting with the neighbours, as indicated by the rattling that echoed into the streets. Our gazes – albeit curious – were met with the welcoming friendliness that is inherent in the Lebanese demeanour, and we felt that if we were so bold as to invite ourselves in, we would be greeted as friends. This is how we met Mme Marcella, whom we saw sitting in her garden preparing lunch, accompanied by the tweeting of her birds. She was wearing a hair fillet, and in front of her, there was a pile of zucchini while her fingers were dipped into the minced meat stuffing. Her house was large with tiled floors, high ceilings and old-style furniture, while the yard was dotted with icons and statues of the Virgin, along with narghiles conveniently placed next to small tables and stools. “The secret to a tasty ablama is to fry the zucchini after they are stuffed, before you put them into the pot, and to add laban towards the end when the food is almost cooked so that it turns into a white, creamy sauce,” she explained. She kept on chattering pleasantly while her hands were busied with the preparation of the food, occasionally repeating a heartfelt invitation for lunch – which, unfortunately, we could not accept. Instead, we headed towards the two archaeological sites that were our desired destination for the day.

 

The first site, stretching next to the coastline, was largely destroyed during the 6th c AD earthquake that challenged the whole region. As a result, today many columns can be found at the bottom of the ocean, and any diver can enjoy swimming among them, frequently accompanied – especially in the early morning hours – by three sea turtles that have settled near to the ancient ruins.

The entrance fees were minimal (about 2 USD), but so were the signposts or supportive information that can help the visitor. Any Phoenician remains have long been consumed by the elements and the subsequent human intervention so, what is most visible today is the Roman town that was erected on the spot. The principal axes – typical in every Roman city – were easily detectable based on the still-standing colonnades – some of which were made of the well-known, multi-layered marble of Karystos, and others of black granite from Egypt or white marble from Italy. The forum area was still covered with mosaics, while additional infrastructure – villas, baths, the arena, or vaulted water reservoirs – could be identified in the area.

 

The second site – Vestiges d’ el Bass – stretches in the mainland. It is better maintained and usually has a guide to explain the historical importance of the antiquities. Part of it dates to the Roman times and, the rest, bears the marks of the Byzantine era, the separating point between the two, being the Gate of the Roman Emperor Hadrian with its bigger arch for horses and chariots and the smaller one for pedestrians.

 

The Byzantine part – the area that a visitor first encounters upon entering the site – was a necropolis, covered with innumerable sarcophaguses that exhibited designs from several eras. For instance, in Roman-influenced sarcophaguses, we could note the head of a lion, while on the purely Byzantine ones, we could find carved angels. Some of the tombs were bigger than others; some had Roman inscriptions, and others had Greek ones; a few were in the so-called “columbarium” style, meaning that they were mass, two-storey tombs with several niches to host the remains of numerous people – we even found bones in one of them. The tiles on the Byzantine alleys were made of smaller stones as opposed to the Roman streets, but the mosaics were made of larger chips (compared to the Roman ones) and favoured geometric designs.

 

The main attraction in the Roman part of the site was the Hippodrome – a UNESCO World Heritage Site – which, in antiquity, used to accommodate 20,000 spectators during the chariot races. According to the rules, the chariots had to run the circuit seven times, and suspense would culminate at each turning post which, when rounded at high speed, became the most dangerous and exciting part of the race – often leading to spectacular and deadly collapses or overthrows. The horseshoe-shaped structure (480 metres long and 90 metres wide) is considered one of the largest and best-preserved hippodromes of its type in the Roman world. The seats extend over a long gallery of spaces that used to operate as shops, while a large obelisk made of rose marble from Egypt still stands tall, reminiscing bygone times. Today, the Hippodrome welcomes locals and tourists during the musical performances of the summer festival, their presence breathing life into the old ruins but also leaving marks of their passage on the marbles, where names, quotes, or amorous statements litter the once glorious site.

 

Next to the Hippodrome, the arches of the Roman aqueduct – a testament to the Roman engineering ingenuity – were still visible. To resolve the water shortage that had been challenging the city of Tyre since its early inhabitation, the Romans collected water from the four springs of the region – that still exist today – and directed it through tunnels towards the aqueduct or stored it in vaulted spaces (like the ones detected in the first archaeological site).

 

Today, most of Tyre’s Roman past is buried forever under the modern city, while the remains of the (mainland) Phoenician town seem to be lying under the Palestinian camp of Rashidiyeh, where the ancient water springs used to flow. The political tension that has been brewing over the past decades in the region, the strategic location of the city, and the presence of several Palestinian camps – with all the relevant human and economic implications – do not allow Tyre to shine. Yet, the city has proven to be tremendously resilient over time, and it always manages, like a Phoenix, to miraculously be reborn from its ashes.

Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou.

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