Monday, June 15, 2015

Buryatia | Mongolia | Agvan Dorzhiev

Look behind the curtains of late nineteenth-early twentieth century Russo-Tibeto-Mongolian affairs and you are more than likely to find there, directing the hesitant actors, prompting the tongue-tied, and ready to stride on stage himself whenever necessary, the enigmatic figure of the always-present but paradoxically ever-elusive Agvan Dorzhiev, or Ngawang Losang, as he was known in Tibetan. Dorzhiev was born in the valley of the Uda River, which flows into the Selenga River at the city of Ulaan Ude (in Dorzhiev’s time, Verkhneudinsk) in the current autonomous republic of Buryatia in the Wood Tiger Year of the 14th sixty-year cycle of the Kalachakra calendar (1854 according to the Gregorian calendar). A precocious student with obvious linguistic talents he soon excelled in Russian—his native language was Buryat—and, oddly enough for the time and place, French. He showed an early interest in Buddhism and quickly added Tibetan, the language of most religious texts, to his resumé. At the age of thirteen he received an Amitayus Long-Life Empowerment from a local lama, who also advised him to go to Tibet for further studies.
Agvan Dorzhiev
Tibet, however, was far off; and Dorzhiev’s means were limited. Örgöö [Ulaanbaatar], in Mongolia, was much closer, and it was there that Dorzhiev went a year later, in 1868. He took the precepts of an upsaka, or religious layman, restraining himself from killing, stealing, lying, irresponsible sexual activity, and the use of intoxicants. Apparently at this point he was not totally convinced of his religious vocation and not yet ready to become a fully ordained monk. Instead he soon married a woman named Kholintsog and may have fathered a child—coitus in the married state not being considered irresponsible sexual activity. He quickly discovered that “the household life, both in this and future births, is like sinking into a swamp of misery.” After consulting with his teacher, the revered Mongolian lama Penchen Chomphel, he decided to advance a further step on the path of his religious vocation by taking the vows of a celibate layman, or ubashi. At this point wife and purported child disappear from his curriculum vitae, never to be heard from again.

For the really serious student of Buddhism there was only one ultimate destination—Lhasa, the lodestar of Inner Asian Buddhists. Dorzhiev was nothing if not ambitious and he soon trained his sights on the Tibetan capital, where he hoped to eventually acquire the degree of geshé, the Buddhist equivalent of a doctorate. But here we get the first whiff of intrigue that was to hover like a miasma around Dorzhiev for the rest of his life. Historian of Russian and Tibetan relations Alexandre Andreyev has speculated that even at this early date Dorzhiev may have working for Russian intelligences services. Documents in the archives of the Imperial Russian Geographical Society propose “sending one or more Buryat Buddhists to Lhasa . . . with a Mongolian mission which was to bring back to Urga a new incarnation of the recently deceased Khutukhtu.” The Buryats were to concern themselves with “intelligence gathering.”

According to one source Dorzhiev and Penchen Chomphel left Mongolia for Lhasa in the winter of 1873. They may well have been accompanying the caravan sent to bring back the little Tibetan boy, a relative of the Dalai Lama, who had determined to be the Eighth Bogd Gegeen. As mentioned, all Europeans and citizens of the Russia empire were still strictly barred from entering Tibet at this time, and Dorzhiev, although a Buryat and a Buddhist, was still a citizen of Russia. Thus he went along on the caravan disguised as a Khalkh Mongol attendant to Penchen Chomphel. This was quite a dangerous undertaking for the Buryat. If exposed he would have been subjected to severe punishments, perhaps even ending up in a Tibetan dungeon. Any Tibetan who aided him risked having his property confiscated, or might have even be sewed up in a leather bag and thrown into the Tsangpo River to drown, the fate of Lama Senchen, the Shigatse monk who in the early 1880s had befriended the Indian pundit Chandra Das, who was in the pay of the British.

In Lhasa Dorzhiev found temporary refuge at Gomang College in Drepung Monastery. Here he could blend in with Mongolian monks who would be unlikely to expose him even if they know his true status. We cannot say for sure if Dambijantsan was there at the time. If our chronology is correct he entered the monastery at Dolonnuur around 1867 but we do not know how long he studied there before moving on to Drepung in Tibet. If they were both at Drepung at they had one thing in common; as Russian citizens they were both in Tibet illegally. Dambijantsan, perhaps already at this time a master of assumed identities, did not seem to have a problem, but word seems to have leaked about Dorzhiev’s true origins. His position precarious and running low on funds, he decided to forgo for the moment his dream of pursuing Buddhist studies in Lhasa and instead return to Örgöö. Here the record is clearer; he and Penchen Chomphel did accompany the caravan bringing the little four-year-old 8th Bogd Gegeen to Mongolia.

The Tibetan monk Luvsanchoijinimadanzinbanchug (1870–1924) was the twenty-third incarnation of Javsandamba and eighth in the line of Bogd Gegeens of Mongolia established by Zanabazar. He would witness the fall of the Qing Dynasty and oversee the rise of an independent state of Mongolia; in additional to his role as head of Buddhism in Mongolia he would eventually be crowned king of Mongolia; and he would live to see his power usurped by the Bolshevik communists who had seized control of the country in 1922. As his life was inextricably intertwined with that of Dambijantsan’s we will have more to say about him later.

By the time Dorzhiev returned to Örgöö he had decided on his religious vocation. At the age of twenty-one he was given full ordination as a monk by Penchen Chomphel and began studies with a number of other venerable monks who initiated him into various tantric practices, including the sadhana of Vajrabhairava, which would become his life-long practice. He also studied at monasteries at Wutai Shan in Shanxi Province, China, a mountain (actually a cluster of five peaks) dedicated to Manjushri, the Bodhisattva of Wisdom. He had not given up his dreams of continuing his studies in Lhasa, however. Informed by knowledgeable lamas at Wutai Shan that the obstacles he had previously faced could be overcome by generous offerings to monasteries and officials in Lhasa, he returned to Buryatia and managed to solicit a considerable amount of alms from his fellow countrymen, duly impressed as they were by the energetic and charismatic monk who already seemed destined for greater things. Part of this booty was given to Dzasak Rinpoche, a high-ranking lama at Wutai Shan. This worthy, who apparently had good connections in Tibet, smooth the way for Dorzhiev’s trip back to Lhasa and even determined an auspicious time for him to leave on his journey.

The twenty-six year old Dorzhiev arrived back in the Tibetan capital in 1880. Upon his arrival he made generous offerings to the Big Three monasteries of Sera, and Gandan, and Drepung, with an extra and especially munificent donation to Gomang College at Drepung. “By this means,” relates his biographer, “which may not exactly have been bribery, but something very much like it, the earnest and energetic young Buryat was able ‘to create favourable conditions for my studies’”. The matter of his Russian citizenship was for the time being forgotten.

Dorzhiev’s subsequent career at Lhasa was nothing short of meteoric. He studied with some of the most distinguished lamas in Tibet and in 1888, just eight years after his arrival in Lhasa, he was awarded the Buddhist equivalent of a doctorate, passing the exams with the highest honors. Normally it took fifteen or twenty year to earn such a degee. “It is . . . a little puzzling how he managed to complete the course so quickly,” observes his biographer, “for there is usually a waiting list and ample funds are necessary to pass the final hurdles. Everything points to Dorzhiev having an influential patron and sponsor. Perhaps money was reaching him from Russia—and perhaps from high places in Russia. Naturally he is reticent about anything of this kind.” He immediately began instructing Mongolian and Buryat students in Buddhistic logic and metaphysic and soon became “a recognized member of the monastic elite.”

All this would pale in comparison to his next assignment. That same year, 1888, he was appointed as tutor of the-then twelve-year old Thirteenth Dalai Lama. For the next ten years he was the Dalai Lama’ ‘inseparable attendant,” himself instructing the Dalai Lama on a near-daily basis and present when other lamas gave him initiations into the highest teachings of Vajrayana Buddhism. He would also eventually rank as the Dalai Lama’s closest political advisor. The fact that he was a Russian citizen had been forgiven but not forgotten. Some in the Dalai Lama’s entourage were appalled that a foreigner should have became the religious leader’s right hand man, and they intrigued to have him dismissed and thrown out of Tibet. But he had the support of the Dalai Lama himself and all their objections were in vain. The Buryat monk who had first slunk into Lhasa in disguise had become one of the most powerful men in the country.

Indeed, to this day Dorzhiev has not been forgotten at Drepung Monastery. When questioning monks there in 2001 about Zanabazar, the First Bogd Gegeen of Mongolia, I described him as “a famous Mongolian lama who had once studied at Drepung.” The monk I was talking to at first thought I was referring to “Ngawang Losang, the Mongolian monk from Russia.” This was of course Dorzhiev. (It turned out he also knew about Zanabazar, and was even aware that the Ninth Bogd Gegeen is now living in India.)

Much of Dorzhiev’s subsequent career lies outside the scope of our narrative. Suffice it to add here that he became the leader of the pro-Russian faction in the Tibetan court, and the British would use his Great Game intrigues with Russia, intended as they were to bring Tibet into the Russian sphere of influence, to justify their 1904 invasion of Tibet by the Younghusband Expedition. The Dalai Lama, accompanied by Dorzhiev, would flee Tibet in advance of the British invasion and eventually turn up in Örgöö, now Ulaanbaatar, the capital of Mongolia . . . 

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Turkey | Iraq | ISIS and Mor Behnam Monastery

A year ago I wandered by Mor Behnam and Mort Sara Church in the city of Mardin, located in the Tur Abdin Region of southeastern Turkey. 
 Mardin, in southeastern Turkey (click on photos for enlargments)
Mor Behnam and Mort Sara Church in Mardin
In recounting the history of the church in Mardin I mentioned the tombs of Mort (Saint) Sara and Mor (Saint) Behnam at the Monastery of Mor Behnam, located on a hill near Nimrud, about twenty miles south of Mosul, in Iraq.
Tombs of Mort Sara and Mor Behnam near Nimrud, in Iraq, before the arrival of ISIS. Photo courtesy of Gates of Nineveh
Now comes news that ISIS has destroyed the tombs of Mort Sara and Mor Behnam. See What We’ve Lost: Mar Behnam Monastery. Other monastery buildings have apparently survived,  but now ISIS has taken control of the complex and there are no longer no any monks in residence. 
Ruins of the tombs of Mort Sara and Mor Behnam. Photo courtesy of Gates of Nineveh

There is also a Mongol connection with the monastery:
In 1258 the Mongols under Hulagu Khan sacked Baghdad and ended the Abbasid caliphate, but the monastery was unaffected because the vassal ruler of Mosul quickly submitted to Hulagu. In 1295, however, Hulagu’s grandson Baidu Khan marched on Mosul and then attacked Erbil. Mongol raiding parties traveled throughout the Nineveh plains. One party plundered the monastery of Mar Mattai. Another party visited Mar Behnam. Rabban Jacob, the chief of the monastery, went to Baidu Khan to complain about the looting. Surprisingly, Baidu agreed to return all the looted goods, and in return the monastery added an inscription in Uighur above Mar Behnam’s tomb which read “May the happiness and praise of Khidr Elias befall and settle on the Il-khan and the [Mongol] nobles and the noblewomen!”
The mention of Khidr here is curious, since Khidr belongs to the Islamic tradition.
Two explanations have been advanced for this: The first is that the monks deliberately cultivated the association with Khidr as a cover story to protect the monastery and tomb from Muslims, and the second is that the association with Khidr represented a form of religious syncretism.
Khidr is the teacher of Moses who some people think is eternal and who still roams the earth. According to one legend, everyone meets Khidr once in their life, but few are aware of it. (Tip off: he is usually wearing something green.) Interestingly, Khidr is also the Patron Saint of MarijuanaIn any case, it would appear that Khidr now offers no protection against ISIS.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Cyprus | Paphos | Roman Mosaics

In 45 a.d. the Apostle Paul, he of Road to Damascus fame, and Barnabas, later Saint Barnabas, visited Larnaca and appointed Lazarus as the first Christian bishop of Cyprus. From Larnaca Paul and Barnabas proceeded along the southern coast to Paphos, on the western end of Cyprus Island. I decided to follow in their footsteps.  First I took the bus forty miles to Limmasol, where as most of you will recall Richard the Lion Heart of England married Berengaria of Navarre on May 12, 1191, and there transferred to a bus going another forty miles to Paphos. By noon I was comfortably ensconced in the Kiniras Guesthouse in Upper Paphos.  
 Guesthouse where I am staying in Paphos (click on photos for enlargements)
Beefcake dished up at the entrance to the guesthouse restaurant
Patio dining room of the restaurant
 Statue in the restaurant of woman displaying her delectable treats
Statue in restaurant of three young women from the Isle of Lesbos.
After a couple of Cyprus coffee bracers I took the bus two miles or so to Nea Paphos, also known as Katos Paphos, which fronts on the sea. From 58 b.c. to 330 a.d. Cyprus was part of the Roman Empire and much of the time Nea Paphos served as the capital of Cyprus and the residence of the Roman proconsul to the island. The proconsul and other important Romans lived in magnificent mansions, many of which had spectacular mosaic floors. Some of the floors have survived to the present day and are now among the main tourist attractions in Paphos. Three of the mansions are located in what is now the Paphos Archeological Park. The first one I visited was the House of Aion, believed to have been built in the early fourth century. 
 Mosaic floor in the House of Aion
Detail of mosaic floor in the House of Aion
 Detail of mosaic floor in the House of Aion
 Mosaic floor in the House of Aion
 Detail of mosaic floor in the House of Aion
 Near the mansions wildflowers grow in profusion
More wildflowers
Still more wildflowers
That evening I had dinner in the restaurant of the Kiniras Guesthouse. The house wine came in an unlabeled bottle. Turns out it was made by the father of the owner of the guesthouse from indigenous Ophalmo grapes. The father owns a small vineyard in the mountains north of Limmasol. I ordered only a glass but the server (who was also the cook) put a bottle on my table and told me to help myself if I wanted more. I can in all honesty say it was one of the best wines I have ever drank. 
Mixed Grill at the Kiniras Guesthouse

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Iran | Alamut | Assassins

Wandered by Alamut, the old stronghold of the Nizari Ismailis, better known in the Occident as the Assassins. The fortress was founded in 1090 by Hassan-i Sabbah and lasted until 1256, when it was finally conquered by Khülegü Khan, grandson of Chingis Khan. 
Elburz Mountains west of Alamut (click on photos for enlargements)
The village of Gazor Khan on the left and the Alamut massif on the right
Sign welcoming tourists to Gazor Khan
The Alamut Massif
When we arrived at the village we were told by local people that there had been a big snow storm the week before and the backside of the massif was still covered with deep drifts. They claimed it was impossible to reach the fortress at the top. We decided to try anyhow and started up the first of the staircases leading to the summit.  We had not gone far when a group of Iranian tourists, three men and two women from Tehran, came stumbling down. They confirmed that it was impossible to reach the fortress because of the snow. This was quite a disappointment, considering that visiting the ruins of Alamut was one of my main reasons for coming to Iran.   
The first staircase. Although it does not look so daunting in this photo, it was actually quite treacherous. Above this staircase, the back side of the mountain was completely drifted shut.
The massif of Alamut in the foreground
Another view of the massif. The fortress buildings can just be seen at the top
Another view of the fortress at the top of the massif
Another view of the fortress at the top of the massif (middle of photo). The column-like structures on the snow covered ridge behind the massif look manmade, but actually they are natural rock formations. 

Friday, March 13, 2015

Cyprus | Larnaca | Church of St. Lazarus

The day after I visited the Statue Of Zeno I wandered into town again, but instead of walking the whole way down the Phinikoude I turned left a block past the Fort and proceeded a couple of hundred yards to St. Lazarus Square. The Church of St. Lazarus, one of Larnaca’s most famous landmarks, fronts the square on the west. Although the square is on the southern edge of the highly developed area behind the Phinikoude it serves as the symbolic center of town. Saint Lazarus, who according to the Christian Bible was raised from the dead by Jesus of Nazareth, was supposedly buried here, and over the last 1500 years or so three different churches have stood over the site of his tomb. The current church is used by a local Greek Orthodox congregation. It is also visited by many pilgrims from all over the Orthodox world and figures in most tourist itineraries. As I walk by a service is in progress, and I can hear the chanting of Greek Orthodox priests. I want to view the interior of the church but decide to come back later after the service is over.  As it turned out, I soon moved from my guesthouse out in the hinterlands to a small “boutique” hotel fronting the square itself and thus had ample opportunities to visit the church. 
 View of the Church of St. Lazarus Square and church from the balcony of my hotel (click on photos for enlargements).
 Frontal view of the Church of St. Lazarus
Another view of the Church of St. Lazarus
First, however, I visited the cafes on either side of the square. The one on the north side, with the chi-chi name Da Vinci’s, had captured the tourist trade with  a menu of waffles, freshly made pie, cakes, iced coffee drinks, and mint tea. They also touted an “England Breakfast”, an abomination of burned eggs, undercooked bacon, baked beans (!) and white bread toast. This meal in itself was enough to explain the decline and fall of the British Empire. All of their outdoor tables facing the square were often full. On the other side of the square was a cafe which called itself Stoa. I assume this was a reference to the Ancient Stoa In Athens, where the philosopher Zeno had first lectured on Stoicism. For whatever reason tourists resolutely avoided this place. Most of the habitués were old men who appeared to have taken on the outward attributes, if not the inner meaning, of Stoicism; that is to say, they ordered a Cyprus coffee and then sat staring into space for the next hour or two. 

Naturally I became an regular at this place. After the second day the old men would slowly swivel their heads in my direction when I entered, nod almost imperceptibly, and then return to their meditations. After the third day the young woman who ran the place brought me my coffee without asking and sat it down without saying a word. No one ever attempted to start a conversation, for which I was grateful. The main real reason I came here, however, was for the one Euro Cyprus coffees. Cyprus coffee is the same thing as Turkish coffee—slightly boiled, unfiltered, and served in a demitasse—but here in southern Cyprus references to Turkey are not appreciated. On menus it is alway Cyprus coffee. In Istanbul nowadays a Turkish coffee can run more than two dollars, and the quality is lamentable in most places. Here in this place it costs one Euro ($1.06), which seems just about right for what was basically a shot glass of thick coffee, and unlike so many places in Istanbul it is excellently prepared. Most mornings I would linger a half an hour or so over one cup of coffee. (Curiously, I have noticed that it a bad form to actually order a second shot of coffee in these places; these are not American diners with the bottomless cup. If you need another hit you move on to another establishment.) Then I would wander over the Church of St. Lazarus. By then the morning service was over. I would go in, buy a small candle, and light it as an offering. I am not Greek Orthodox of course, or even a Christian, but I do like to cover all the bases. Then I would take a seat an indulge in historical ruminations about Lazarus. 
Interior of the church
Those of you who were paying attention in Sunday school and not pulling the pigtails of the girl in the seat in front of you will no doubt recall that Lazarus was born in Bethany, a small town just east of Jerusalem. Jesus of Nazareth was a friend of the family and had visited Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha on numerous occasions. According to Luke X, 38-42), while Martha "was distracted by her many tasks,” Mary sat "at Jesus’s feet and listened to his preaching.” It was Mary who had anointed Jesus’s feet with spikenard oil and dried them with her hair. There has been rampant speculation in some quarters that Jesus had a thing going on with Mary. The Gospel of John, more discretely, tells us only that “Jesus loved Martha and her sister” (John XI, 5). During Jesus’s last trip from Galilee to Jerusalem he received an urgent message from the sisters informing him that their brother was seriously ill and probably dying. He made a detour to Bethany in hopes of curing Lazarus but did not arrive until four days after he had died. “Deeply moved in spirit,” he stood in front of Lazarus’s tomb, and through his spiritual power he managed to bring him back to life, even though the body had begun to decay and there was a bad odor. (John XI, 44)

There are, of course, historiological  problems with this account. I will not question the historicity of Jesus of Nazareth, although of course this issue continues to be debated by some. In light of subsequent events, Lazarus would also appear to be an historical character, and not simply a figment of imagination on the part of the Gospel writers. The event in question is Lazarus’s resurrection from the dead. Whether or not Jesus of Nazareth was capable of performing this miracle will have to remain a question of faith. A more mundane explanation, that Lazarus was simply in a deep coma and that Jesus managed through non-miraculous means to revive him, would seem to be ruled out by the detail, reported by John, that by the time Jesus arrived on the scene the body of Lazarus had already begun to decay and was giving off a foul odor. Of course, John may have invented the entire story of Lazarus’s resurrection, including the detail of the decaying body, simply as a means of adding luster to Jesus’s reputation as the Son of God who was capable of performing miracles. 

But Lazarus, raised from the dead or not, refuses to leave the stage. We are told that he became one of Jesus’s biggest supporters and actively attempted to convert others to the new faith of the Nazarene: “. . . for on account of him, many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and putting their faith in him.” (John XII, 10-11). Faced with defections from their flock, “. . . the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus . . .”  It is possible that the historical Lazarus was a staunch follower of the Nazarene who converted others to his new faith and as a result he did earn the hatred of the local priesthood. John may have later invented the whole resurrection tale as a means of also adding luster to Lazarus, one of Jesus’s main early supporters—assuming of course we do not buy the miraculous version of the story. 

In any case, according to tradition his two sisters Mary and Martha, fearing for the life of their brother at the hands of the local pharisees, spirited him away from Bethany. Reaching the coastline, they placed Lazarus in a small boat and put him out to sea. His tiny craft eventually came to shore on Cyprus Island, here at Kition (modern day  Larnaca). Assuming that he began his sea voyage somewhere along the coast west of Jerusalem he would have had to cross about 210 miles of open sea to reach Kition. 

Lazarus’s escape from Judea was been dated to 33 a.d., or around the time St. Stephen, The First Christian Martyr, had been stoned to death by pharisees. According to Acts XI, 19, the Christians of Judea who had “been scattered by the persecution in connection with Stephen, traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus, and Antioch.” According to tradition, Lazarus was thirty years old when he fled Bethany. After his escape to Cyprus he lived another thirty-three years, making him sixty years old when he died in 63 .a.d. 

Lazarus was a well-known figure in the Christian community of Kition by the time the apostles Paul, he of Road to Damascus fame, and Barnabas, a Jew who had been born on Cyprus Island, now returning a converted Christian, arrived in Cyprus in 45 a.d. They soon appointed him as the first bishop of Cyprus. He had an uphill battle in promoting the teachings of the Nazarene, facing opposition from both the pagan elements who continued to worship Greek deities, first and foremost Aphrodite, and the large and well entrenched Jewish community, for whom Jesus was an impostor and false prophet, or worse.

Legends about miracles which Lazarus performed while living at Kition abound. One concerns a huge and highly productive vineyard located on outskirts of what was then Kition. Wandering through the vineyard one day, Lazarus asked a woman for some grapes to quench his thirst. She refused, saying that there were no grapes available. When Lazarus pointed to a basket full of grapes, she replied that the basket contained only salt. Outraged by the woman’s duplicity, he miraculously turned the entire vineyard into a huge salt lake. This lake became one of area’s most famous features, and indeed during the middle ages the current-day city of Larnaca was called Saline, a reference to the saline water in the nearby lake. Now the lake, located near the airport, is one of the first sites visitors see when they arrive by plane. Regardless of whether or not it was miraculously created, an aura of sanctity still emanates around the lake. The mosque of Hala Sultan, regarded by some as Islam’s fourth holiest place, after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem, is to this day found on its shores (I’ll get to this story later).

There’s another legend, one not recorded in New Testament, that Mary the mother of Jesus visited Lazarus while he was here in Kition. According to this tale, Lazarus, dearly missing Mary, whom he apparently had met earlier, sent a ship to Judea to bring her to Cyprus. She set out on the sea voyage accompanied by the disciple John and other early Christians. Their ship was blown off course and they ended up in the Aegean Sea. They made landfall near Mt. Athos, in what is now Greece, and here Mary managed to make many new converts. They were the foundation of the devout religious community that continues to live at Mt. Athos to this day. Eventually she and her party did reach Cyprus and she presented Lazarus with a bishop’s robe she herself had woven. A variant of this story suggests Mary visited Cyprus before proceeding on to Mt. Athos. In either case, this yarn may well be apocryphal. Mary is credited with visiting innumerable places all around the Mediterranean, including France. It is hard to believe she had the time and means for so much travel. Of course there is also no firm evidence that she did not visit Cyprus. 

During his years in Kition Lazarus became famous for his lachrymosity. Supposedly his melancholia was a result of witnessing the fate of the unredeemed souls he had seen in Hades during the four days when he had been dead. During the thirty years he lived on Cyprus he was seen to smile only once. This was when he saw a thief steal a clay pot. “The clay steals the clay,” he observed, with a smile on his face. Obviously he had a highly refined sense of humor.

After his death—for the second time if we chose to believe the Gospel of John—Lazarus was buried here in Kition (now Larnaca). His sepulcher may have been part of a larger cemetery. Around the mid-sixth century a church was built over his tomb. This first church, built in the shape of a three-aisled basilica, was probably destroyed during the Arab incursions that started in 649. At some point in time a smaller church was built over the site of the sepulcher. In the 890s Byzantine Emperor Leo VI the Wise heard rumors about the tomb and sent agents to Cyprus to investigate. They soon discovered a marble sarcophagus beneath the church inscribed with the words: “Lazarus, the Four Day Dead and Friend of Christ.” Leo was apprized of the discovery, and he ordered that the sarcophagus and the remains of Lazarus be brought to Constantinople. In return, he provided money and craftsmen to build a new church—the third—on the site. This was the foundation of the church which exists on the site today.

The sarcophagus and most of the remains and relics of Lazarus were taken to Constantinople and in a grand procession were brought to the great church of Hagia Sofia, which of course exists to this day, although as a museum. Leo then had a new church built in honor of Lazarus in Constantinople to house his remains, including his skull. Relics associated with his sisters Mary and Martha brought from Ephesus, in what is now Turkey, were also placed in the new church. (I have not been able to locate this church; either no longer exists, or has been converted into a mosque).

When Crusaders led by Venetian opportunists attacked their fellow Christians and sacked Constantinople in 1204 they carted off the remains of Lazarus along with so much else, and the relics finally ended up on Marseilles, France. They eventually disappeared and their current whereabouts are unknown. Apparently, however, not all of Lazarus’s remains were removed to Constantinople back in the 890s. Tradition maintains that locals held back some the relics associated with the famous saint of their town. A new marble sarcophagus was crafted to contain these remnants and placed in the crypt beneath the new Greek Orthodox church which had been built by order of Leo VI. During a renovation of the church in November of 1972 these relics were discovered. The sarcophagus can now be seen in the crypt beneath the church.

Not much was reported about the church built by Leo the VI for the next century or two. During Frankish rule (1192–1428), when the Catholic Church became dominant on the island, it may have become part of a Catholic monastery. It was during this time that the southern portico was added to the church, The pillars, crossed vaults, and gargoyles are all of Gothic design, demonstrating Frankish influence. A pair of stone lions in relief, now barely discernible, above the southern entrance to the church also reportedly date from the Frankish era, as does the crossed coat of arms of the Kingdom of Jerusalem found above the northern entrance. The Kingdom of Jerusalem had of course been founded by Occidental crusaders in 1099. After the legendary Saladin defeated of the kingdom’s army at the Battle of Hattin on July 4, 1187, the leader of the Frankish noble house of Lusignan, Guy, decamped from the mainland and set up a new kingdom here on Cyprus. 
 The southern portico added during Frankish times
Interior of the portical with classic Gothic arches
Another view of the portico
Round pillars with cross above from the Frankish era
 Two stone lions in relief above the southern entrance to the church. They are now barely discernible.
Coat of Arms of the Kingdom of Jerusalem above the northern entrance
Around the end of Lusignan rule, from the 1460s to the 1480s, the church appears to have been abandoned.  There is even a report that at point it was used a pig sty. The church was apparently reopened in the 1480s, but travelers in the region continued to report on its derelict condition. After the Ottoman invasion of Cyprus in 1570 the building was turned into a mosque. In 1589 the Ottoman authorities sold it back to the Orthodox Greeks for 3,000 silver Turkish coins. Local Catholics were allowed to perform services in the Church two days a year, reportedly in return for helping in the renovation of the building. This arrangement remained in effect until 1784, when apparently the Orthodox Greeks took complete control. Thus the church has remained active down to the present day. 

Every time I visited the St. Lazarus’s Church a near steady stream of out-of-town visitors were passing through. Maybe half of them were speaking Russian. Many were simply tourists visiting one of Larnaca’s most famous sights, but a good percentage were pilgrims, dutifully lighting candles and praying before the many icons in the church. Most visitors take the low-ceiling staircase down into the crypt to see the coffin of St. Lazarus. The faithful pray and meditate here. Thus St. Lazarus continues to fulfill its centuries-old role as a pilgrimage site.
Icon in the stairwell leading to the crypt beneath the church. The icon painter appears to have conflated two separate incidences here: Mary and Martha, with Mary washing Jesus’s feet, and Lazarus in his tomb. 
Marble coffin in the crypt beneath the church. I have not been able to determine if this is the one that held the relics of Lazarus that remained in Larnaca.
Of course there have been Doubting Thomases along the way. The Roman nobleman Pietro Della Valle, who visited Larnaca in the early seventeenth century, was so bold as to suggest that even if Lazarus did exist he did not come to Cyprus. He said told by the local clergy that Lazarus’s presence on the island “is proved by the miracles which the Saint works in his church daily.” I am not aware of any miracles occurring here recently. 
 Stone plaque on the side of the church
Detail of the stone plaque. Who could the woman be? Anyone have any ideas?
The Church of Saint Lazarus

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Cyprus | 10,000 B.C. to Present

I guess it was inevitable that I would someday end up on the island of Cyprus. It is, after all, one of the great crossroads of the world, linking the seaways between Europe, Asia Minor, the Middle East, and Africa. The northwest tip of Cyprus is just forty-five miles from the coast of Turkey. The coast of Syria is sixty-five miles from the northeast corner of the island. Beirut is 110 miles from the southeast tip of Cyprus; Damascus 160; Jerusalem 228. From the southwest coast of Cyprus it’s 280 miles to Alexandria at the mouth of the Nile in Egypt, and 325 to the Big Bopper, Cairo. All of these places have left their mark on Cyprus. 
©2105 Google Earth (click on image for enlargement)
The island has been inhabited for 12,000 years at the very least. The earliest human inhabitants may have shared the island with dwarf elephants and hippopotami. A well-preserved Neolithic village has been dated to 6,800 b.c. By 2500 b.c the indigenous population was engaged in trade with Egypt, Greece, and the Near East. Mycenaean Greeks settled on Cyprus around 1400 b.c. and by 1000 b.c. the island was largely Hellenized. Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of Love and Sex, was believed to have been born on Cyprus, as was her lover, the dreamboat Adonis. A temple in western Cyprus dedicated to her became one of the great pilgrimage sites of the ancient world. By 800 b.c. the sea-faring Phoenicians, centered around what is now the coastline of Lebanon, set up trading posts along the southern coast of the Island, including one near the present-day town of Larnaca. Then came Assyrians from what is now Iraq, followed by Egyptians from the valley of the Nile. In 545 b.c. the Achaemenids of Iran overran the island. In 333 b.c. the Macedonian adventurer Alexander the Great supplanted them. After Alexander’s death the island become part of Hellenized Ptolemaic Egypt. 

The Ptolemaic Greeks eventually lost control of the island and in 58 b.c. it became part of the Roman Empire, during which time it became the plaything of Roman rulers. First, in an attempt to woo them as allies, Julius Caesar gave the island back to Ptolemy XIII and Arsinoë IV, the brother and sister of the legendary temptress Cleopatra and erstwhile rulers of Ptolemaic Egypt. When both he and they were eliminated from the scene the totally besotted Mark Anthony gave the island to Cleopatra, by then undisputed ruler of Egypt, as a token of his love for her, which was only fitting, since Cyprus was the home of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love. (Some say it was a wedding gift; the problem is, Mark Antony was married to someone else at the time and Cleopatra was not the type to play second fiddle. The marriage alleged by some may never have taken place. She did have children with him, however: including the lovely twins Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene. The name Alexander was intended to memorialize Alexander the Great: the name Cleopatra was traditionally given to female contenders for the throne of Egypt. The Cleopatra who so famously felled Julius Caesar and Marc Antony was in fact Cleopatra VII)  

In 46 a.d. the Apostle Paul (Saul) of Tarsus along with Barnabas, a Jew born on Cyprus who had converted to Christianity, visited the island and managed to convert to their new creed the Roman proconsul, Sergius Paulus, making Cyprus the first country in the world to be ruled by a Christian governor. The Greek gods and pagan beliefs were soon superseded by the new teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, the sex goddess Aphrodite giving way to the Virgin Mary. With the division of the Roman Empire in 395 A.D. Cyprus became part of the East Roman, or Byzantine, Empire headquartered in Constantinople. Christianity went unchallenged on the island until 647, when the Muslim invaders reached the island. (Some sources credit the Prophet Muhammad’s father-in-law, Abu Bakr, with leading the invasion and temporarily seizing control of Larnaca, on the southern coast. Abu Bakr, however, died in 634.) The Umayyad Caliph Muawiyah I (r. 661–680) and the Abbasid Caliph Harun-al-Rashid (r. 786–809), he of One Thousand and One Arabian Nights fame, are both said to have made raids on the island. Numerous other Muslim incursions (a total of twenty-four according to Frankish historian Stephen de Lusignan) contested East Roman control of the island for the next three centuries before the Byzantine Emperor Nikephoros Phocas finally reasserted control in 965.

Then came Europeans in the guise of Crusaders. King Richard I (the Lion-Heart) of England captured in the island in 1191, during the Third Crusade, and married his wife Berengaria in Limassol, on the southern coast, on 12 May 1191. He eventually sold the island to the militant order of Crusaders known as the Knights Templar. It was in turn passed on to Guy, leader of the French royal house of Lusignan. The Lusignan Dynasty ruled the island until 1473, when the great trading combine known as the Republic of Venice took nominal control. In 1489 Venice formally appropriated the Island and fortified the city of Nicosia by building the Venetian Walls, which still exist to this day. Then came the Ottomans, who since 1453 had ruled their empire out of Istanbul. On July 1, 1570 they invaded the island and within three weeks the capital, Nicosia, had fallen. For the next 228 years they ruled the island. In 1878 the Ottomans ceded control of Cyprus to Great Britain in return for the latter’s help in fending off the Russians, who were encroaching on the Ottoman Empire from the north. Although occupied by the British, Cyprus remained nominally part of the Ottoman empire until 1914, when the Ottomans sided with Germany in the First World War; thereupon the island was seized outright by the British and finally made a Crown Colony in 1925. 

During the 1950s Greek Cypriots started a movement to make Cyprus a part of Greece. Turkey, which alleged discrimination against Turkish Cypriots by the Greek populace, vehemently opposed a union between Cyprus and Greece. Attempting a compromise, in August of 1960 the United Kingdom, Greece, and Turkey, all signed the so-called London and Zurich Agreement finally granting Cyprus its independence and creating the Republic of Cyprus. It was hoped that as an independent country Cyprus would be able to iron it its ethnic and religious differences on its own. Instead, inter-communal strife between Greek and Turkish elements worsened, resulting in over two decades of domestic violence. In 1974 Turkey invaded the island, ostensibly to restore order. International pressure eventually led to a cease-fire, but by then Turkey controlled the northern part of the island, including the northern part of the capital, Nicosia. In 1983 the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus was created, encompassing slightly more than a third of the island. The southern two-thirds or so of the island remained as the Republic of Cyprus. The two Cypruses, including the capital, remained strictly divided. Not April 23, 2003 was the Ledra Palace border crossing opened in Nicosia, reconnecting the two parts of the capital for the first time since 1974. On April 3, 2008, the Ledra Street pedestrian crossing was also opened, allowing for the first time easy access to both sides of city by locals and tourists on foot. Meanwhile, in 2004, the Republic of Cyprus had become part of the European Union, placing it firmly within the Occidental world. The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus is to this day recognized only by Turkey. 
Map courtesy of Nations Online Project