Bukhara is one of the oldest cities in Central Asia. In its heyday in the 9th and 10th centuries the city boasted 250 madrassahs, 200 minarets and a mosque for every day of the year. At that time the city was the centre for Persian culture and science.
All of this was destroyed in 1220 by Genghis Khan’s Mongol invaders, however, he did spare the Kalyan Minaret which was built in 1127. He was awestruck by its magnificence and ordered it spared from Mongol destruction. The minaret still stands tall today, although it was damaged by a Soviet shell in 1920.
Because of the city’s significance, its revival was of deep importance. Bukhara had long been a crossroads for traders from the East and the West on the Great Silk Road routes trading in silk, porcelain, spices, ivory and rugs. When Niccolo and Maffeo Polo, father and uncle of the more renowned traveller and writer, Marco Polo, passed through Bukhara en route to service with the Great Kahn in the East, Kublai, they found life was calm within the city walls but all around, chaos ruled. As a result, their stay in Bukhara lasted three years before they were able to continue their journey eastwards.
Bukhara was also a spiritual and religious centre described as the Eastern Mecca of the Islamic World and thus remained a significant economic and political centre.
As Temur’s authority over the region strengthened during the 15th century, he had great respect for the city as it was his mother’s birthplace, but it was never more than a shadow of his great capital, Samarkand.
In the early 16th century, Temur’s great, great, great grandson, Babur briefly held sway against the more popular authority of the Uzbek clan leader, Mohamed Shaybani Khan, until he was routed in a battle at Gijduvan which forced him to flee Transoxiana for good. He then devoted himself to the conquest of India and the founding of the Mughal Dynasty.
It was during the 19th century that Bukhara was brought back into the limelight again and onto the world political stage. Anglo-Russian rivalries were becoming more strained and a long procession of disguised pilgrims, merchants and clergymen arrived in Bukhara to find out what was going on and with a view to gaining favour with the Emir.
The most notable early visitor was William Moorcroft, a 60 year old Englishman, who arrived in 1825 in an attempt to enhance trading links. His mission lasted five months. He failed in his bid to trade in horses and eventually left the city empty-handed for Balkh in Afghanistan. He never arrived as he was murdered en route.
Moorcroft’s escapades were overshadowed in 1832 by the arrival of Alexander Burnes, a captain in the Indian Army, disguised in Afghan dress, but with a mission to gather as much military and strategic information on the city as possible. Almost immediately upon his arrival, his presence having aroused deep suspicion, he was summoned to meet with the Grand Vizier. He had to sidestep a series of searching questions especially about some of the map-making equipment he was carrying, such as a sextant and a compass. He was able to call the Vizier’s bluff and stayed in Bukhara for one month but never got to meet the Emir himself. Despite this, he was able to leave with a wealth of useful information.
He used this information to compile the classic account of his adventures called ‘Travels to Bukhara’ which, when he returned to England, earned him a Gold Medal from the Royal Geographic Society, a private meeting with the King and a subsequent knighthood. It was probably just as well that Burnes had not met the Emir, Nasrullah, because he was one of the most viciously and violently deranged rulers the region had ever seen. He was known by his subjects as ‘The Butcher’, a nickname he earned following the murders of 28 of his relatives in the blood-stained scramble to become ruler.
It was under the rule of Nasrullah that Bukhara became the setting for one of the most notorious incidents in the whole Great Game period. In 1837, a British envoy, Colonel Charles Stoddart, arrived in Bukhara on a mission to build a political alliance between the Emirate and Britain.
Stoddart was more a soldier than a diplomat and quickly offended the Emir with an ignorance of cultural protocol and an absence of gifts from Queen Victoria. He had ridden in full regimental regalia to the Emir’s Palace instead of dismounting as was customary. Remaining in the saddle, he saluted the Emir who did not take kindly to this breach of protocol. Needless to say, Stoddart’s first meeting with the Emir did not go well and afterwards he found himself thrown into a vermin-infested dungeon at the back of the Ark Citadel. He was held here, on and off, for two years, including at one point receiving a visit from the Emir’s executioner, who was tasked with beheading him, unless he embraced Islam in exchange for a relaxation in his custodial surroundings.
Incredibly, whilst incarcerated, Stoddart managed to get several letters to his family smuggled out saying that he was putting on a brave face in spite of his challenging environment.
Having almost given up any hope of redemption, Stoddart became aware, in the winter of 1841, of a one-man rescue mission. A fellow British officer, Captain Arthur Connolly, arrived in Bukhara with the aim of negotiating the release of his friend and colleague. The Emir’s initial cordial reception was soon replaced by a change of mood when he discovered that Connolly had not brought a reply to a letter he had dispatched months earlier to Queen Victoria. This caused him to lose face amongst his court officials and he interpreted this as further evidence that both Stoddart and Connolly, who both claimed to represent the Queen, were imposters and spies.
Nasrullah ordered that both Stoddart and Connolly be thrown back into the pit and shortly afterwards be executed.
Even today, around the back of the Ark Citadel, the pit where Stoddart and Connolly were incarcerated is still visible. A gruesome sight and a reminder of the horrendous acts that were committed there.
After this dark episode, the Russians arrived under General Konstantin Kaufman, cut off the City’s water supply and forced the Emir to surrender to Russian control, whilst being allowed to keep his throne. As Russia gradually tightened its grip, Bukhara was never formally incorporated into its Empire. The Emir still held sway but eventually and inevitably he had to give way. There were noises coming from afar that meant that Bolshevik-supported Communism was taking over and it ultimately found a voice in the region through a group called the Young Bukharans.
Little did they expect a backlash like the one they received as local mullahs called for a ‘jihad’ against the Russian invaders. So much so, the Bolshevik delegation inside the city was massacred and the Russian reinforcements beat a hasty retreat and limped back to Tashkent from whence they had originated.
For the next 2 years, the Russians sent a total of 15 spies to Bukhara to investigate possible collusion with a British-led team of advisers. All 15 spies were caught, tortured and executed.
In 1920, a stronger force of Russian troops arrived at the City gates and this time the Emir was forced to relinquish his throne, fleeing to Afghanistan. Later that year, the People’s Republic of Bukhara was proclaimed. Communism took hold and as the Soviet state grew in stability, so too did its confidence in Bukhara grow. By 1924, and as a result of Stalin’s reorganisations, the Soviet Socialist Republic of Uzbekistan was born.
Today, Bukhara offers plenty of scope for exploration. Restored domes and minarets dominate the skyline and the backstreets still provide evidence of bygone splendour and history.
We arrive at our hotel and are welcomed by the family who run the establishment. We learn that we are the only guests. The rooms are small but beautifully decorated.
My hat takes a rest in Bukhara hotel room
Unfortunately, Montezuma has struck again and a reduced party sets out to explore the City. I’m feeling a bit delicate myself today so I make sure that I am armed with plenty of water. My camera bag has two very useful bottle sized pockets so they are being well used this trip.
I am particularly looking forward to this part of the trip because Bukhara has come through a lot of good times as well as some tough times and it will be fascinating for me to be able to see some of the sights that have had their time and place in history.
Andrew and Diane meet me as I wait outside the hotel, still beaming at the thought that they will be able to take photos using my spare camera. Paul, unfortunately, has been laid low so Jean is on her own today. Mark tells us of a remedy that he uses for an upset stomach – flat Coca-Cola. It sounds horrible but I say I may try it later. Our conversation is overheard by Tom, a retired Army Officer, who swears by a shot of vodka with a pinch of salt mixed in. I say that it would be sacrilege to put salt in vodka, and in any case, the stuff I had yesterday was strong enough to “kill all known germs”, so why put salt in it!
Tatiana calls us to order to tell us where we will be going today. I’m pleased that we will be stopping at the Ark Citadel. For me, this is the hub of where all the history that I have been reading about took place – a bit like the Ichan-Kala in Khiva.
Our first stop is at a small mausoleum which has a great deal of architectural history.
The Ismail Samani mausoleum houses the tomb of the founder of the Samanid Dynasty that oversaw Bukhara’s heyday in the 10th century. It is the oldest and best preserved original building in Bukhara. It is an exquisitely constructed building with basket-weave brickwork. It draws on a combination of ancient architectural styles as well as using some of the arithmetic and geometric advances made by our Khivan friend, al-Khorezmi that would serve as an architectural formula for centuries to come. Each façade is identical, each of which slopes slightly inwards and is adorned on top with a ‘hemispherical cupola’.
Once, one of the holiest burial grounds in Bukhara, where even Emirs were laid to rest, it wasn’t until 1934 when Soviet archaeologist Shiskin discovered the Mausoleum buried under several feet of accumulated sand and earth. The ground was desanctified, the graves removed and the area became known as the Kirov Public Park.
Ismail Samani Mausoleum, Bukhara
Today, it stands in all its restored glory in a slightly sunken terraced area which captures the heat. It is well over 35°C today and unfortunately the heat claims another victim, Mary, so Laura has to arrange for a taxi to take her back to the hotel. This heat is really fierce and I, for one, am certainly not used to such high temperatures. There is no humidity so it is essential to keep drinking water to prevent dehydration.
As we walk across a small dusty park, I spot in the distance against the vivid blue cloudless sky, a huge white entrance sandwiched in between two sheer sandstone walls. This is the Ark Citadel and from a distance it is ‘Taj Mahal-esque’ in its jaw-dropping splendour.
I have to kerb my enthusiasm because before we get to the Ark, we stop at the Bolo Hauz Mosque. Splendid as it is with its elegant colonnaded façade I am distracted by the magnificence of what lies over the road.
Bolo Hauz Mosque, Bukhara
This is the heart of ancient Bukhara – the original 2000 year old fortress around which the City formed. Destroyed and rebuilt many times over the years, the Ark became home to many ruling Emirs, in a complex housing over 3000 people, providing a palace, a harem, the throne room, the treasury, a mosque and the infamous dungeon.
The imposing gatehouse must have been very intimidating to all those that rode up to it seeking entry, especially those 19th century Great Game players, such as Moorcroft, Burnes, Stoddart and Connolly, who came on various missions in an attempt to curry favour with the Emir, each with fortunate and unfortunate outcomes.
Ark Citadel, Bukhara
Much of the original Ark was destroyed in a fire in 1920 and what remained fell into rack and ruin, however, by using historical archives, the fortress is now gradually being restored.
I stand on the opposite side of the huge expanse that is Registan Square and think back to those days when all that surrounds these walls would have been desert, hostile in temperature as well as being hostile by virtue of the warmongering clans that populated the area. Whilst there was relative calm inside these walls, chaos ruled outside.
Registan Square and the Ark Citadel Walls, Bukhara
The heat, as we walk across the shadow-less Registan Square, is now getting quite intense. I can sense that Andrew and Diane are struggling. Neither is wearing a hat and their faces are getting very red.
We take a detour away from the Ark and the main street that leads to the Kalyan Mosque and Minaret in to the cool shade of a local bazaar. We use this as an opportunity to replenish supplies of bottled water.
I am keen to mix with the locals again as I did in Tashkent. I get into a conversation with a young man named Parvez, who is working on a stall selling potatoes. His English is excellent and he tells me that he has been fortunate to travel to the USA to study. He always intended to come home after his studies with the intention of starting his own business to help other young people to travel like he did. Parvez is working on his father’s farm for the time being until he has earned enough money to start his business. I am impressed with his entrepreneurial spirit and I just hope he doesn’t have to jump through too many hoops to pursue his dream. I shake his hand and wish him well.
Local Market, Bukhara
I buy a small bunch of bananas from a lady wearing a bright orange robe. She seems a bit more reserved than my friend in Tashkent but I still get a beaming smile as I wander down the line where I see t’other Peter bartering for some apples.
These bazaars are so refreshing and rewarding to be able to mix with and experience the local people going about their everyday lives. Parvez was saying to me that they don’t get to see many foreign visitors. I feel privileged to have been a very small part of their lives.
It is pleasantly cool under the canopy of the bazaar but a wall of heat hits me as I go outside to meet up with the others. We continue our walk up to the other main feature of ‘old’ Bukhara, Kalyan Minaret.
This huge tower rises 48 meters and dominates the Bukharan skyline. Over the years since it was originally built in 1127, the minaret has survived the test of time. The original architect did not hurry in its construction, having received the Khan’s commission to build the greatest minaret the world had ever seen. Having laid the foundations, the architect disappeared and did not return for two years at which time he declared the foundations to be strong enough and proceeded to raise the tallest free-standing tower in the world at that time. The Khan was delighted but the perfectionist architect was not satisfied with his work but died before he could do anything about it.
Even Genghis Khan was impressed. He had never seen such an imposing structure, so much so that historians say that the great leader doffed his hat and bowed down at the foot of the tower and ordered it not to be touched as his Mongol hordes set about destroying everything else.
Remarkably it survived until its top was damaged by a Soviet incendiary device in 1920. It was subsequently repaired and made two meters taller. There was further damage in the 1976 earthquake but it has been restored again and the minaret now enjoys UNESCO protection.
The original use for the minaret was to call people to prayer. The muezzins would have to have been fit to climb to the top each day! This, however, was not the sole usage for the minaret, though. In the 19th century, it was given the ignominious name of the “Tower of Death” as criminals were led to the top, tied up in sacking and hurled out to their inevitable death.
Next door to the minaret is the Kalyan Mosque. Genghis Khan thought the mosque was the palace of the Emir and when told that it was a house of God, he ordered the Korans to be burned and the building destroyed.
What we see today was completed in 1514 following orders from Amir Temur’s grandson, Ulug Beg, perhaps more notable as a mathematician and astronomer. During the Soviet period, the mosque was used as a warehouse and today a small area has been reopened for prayer but is not frequented by as many people as from the bygone age.
Across the square from the mosque is one of the most prestigious educational establishments in Bukhara – the Mir-i-arab Madrassah. It is off-limits to visitors as it is a working madrassah for around 250 students studying courses in Arabic, theology and the Koran. That means the only way to view the magnificent interior tilework is through a small grill at the entrance, but the two storey exterior façade is sufficient reward to appreciate the grandeur of the building which is topped off by the twin domes adorned with resplendent jade coloured tiles.
Mir-i-arab Madrassah, Bukhara
My neck is beginning to ache having to continuously look up at these breath-taking monuments. It is incredible to believe that these buildings which have so much history attached to them are still in everyday use today. I wonder whether the students and the worshippers are aware, or are made aware, of what has gone on in the past.
Andrew is having a field day snapping away with my camera. I’m glad I’m using digital technology as I am already on my second memory card. ‘Bagless’ Tracey suddenly starts jumping up and down with joy. We all turn our heads in her direction. Laura has just told her that her suitcase is waiting for her in her hotel room. Now that’s what I call service. I think she had half expected to have to get a taxi out to the airport to collect it herself. Well done to all concerned. The system obviously works but it shouldn’t have gone wrong in the first place. We are all delighted for Tracey as she will now be able to wear her own clothes!
Tatiana calls a halt to proceedings and announces that it is lunchtime. A cheer goes up as we are all beginning to wilt in the heat. As we settle down in a nearby restaurant, there are a number of delicate stomachs being very wary about what to eat. I decide to play it safe and stick to some rice with naan bread. I also try Mark’s suggestion of a flat Coke. When the bottle arrives I take the top off and leave it to stand for about 10 minutes before drinking it. It’s nice not to have the normal repercussions of drinking Coke but time will tell if it works. I hear Tom asking for a shot of vodka so he is obviously sticking to his tried and tested remedy.
With renewed energy and suitably refreshed, we head out of town on the bus towards the Emir’s Summer Palace – Sitorai Makhi Khosa.
Sitorai Makhi Khosa, Bukhara
The Palace was built in 1911 by the Russians for the last Emir, Alim Khan, in order to get him out of the Ark fortress as part of their plan to ostracise him from his people. As he clung to power, he began to embrace Russian culture and paid annual visits to the Winter Palace in St Petersburg. He even had a dacha on the Crimean coast.
The Summer Palace here in Bukhara displays a mix of Russian and Central Asian architecture and gives an insight into the lifestyle of an Emir who was trying to bridge two worlds and of an Emirate gradually declining as it fought to cope with this mix.
Eventually the Emir fled to Afghanistan whilst his wife and children were taken to Moscow by the Soviets and, later in the same year, it was in the Summer Palace that the first meeting of the Bukharan Soviet was held, heralding the dramatic political changes to come.
Dinner that evening was with a depleted group as many fellow travellers chose to have a quiet night in. Montezuma is certainly exacting his revenge. The Bukhara doctor is being kept very busy prescribing rehydration remedies so that we will all be fit enough to travel to Samarkand tomorrow. He is providing an excellent service and even comes to the hotel first thing in the morning to check up on his patients. I’m very impressed.
Tatiana takes us to a small restaurant within a madrassah which forms part of the Lyab-i-Hauz Ensemble. The area’s main feature is a square pool around which the madrassahs are sited. There is a small poolside ‘chaikhana’ (tea-house) that many of us had visited earlier in the day. We are eating in the Divanbegi Madrassah that was originally built as a caravanserai but the Khan mistakenly inaugurated it as a madrassah. What the Khan says goes, so it was hastily converted.
Traditional low tables and bench seats are set around the outside of the quadrangle. The meal is quite informal and there are other overseas visitors there too. There is a staged area in the middle of the quadrangle and at the end of the meal we are entertained by a local folklore group who are accompanying a fashion show. Models are showing off locally made clothes and jewellery. It is a very convivial evening to wind up our stay in Bukhara.
I feel I must return to Bukhara at some other time to take in more of the historical features. My impression is that there are just too many to take in in the short time that we have here. As with Tashkent, the local people that we have met have been very friendly and hospitable.