In
Afghanistan, 900-foot Sleeping Buddha eludes archaeologists
But researchers are finding and preserving other ancient riches.
By Mark Sappenfield | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
BAMIYAN, AFGHANISTAN
After the Taliban fell, France sent Zemaryalai Tarzi to this Afghan
valley on a quest bordering on the mythological. His goal: to
find Sleeping Buddha, the reclining sculpture that, at 900 feet
long, would be nearly 10 times the size of the Buddhas destroyed
by the Taliban in 2001.
He
brought the ultimate treasure map the journal of a 7th-
century Chinese pilgrim who recorded every major monument in painstaking
detail.
But
six years later, there's no Sleeping Buddha. When it comes to
this prize, the journal is frustratingly vague. And, Dr. Tarzi
freely acknowledges, he has been otherwise occupied as he and
other archaeologists have found, preserved, and worked to understand
Afghanistan's other ancient riches, starting right here in Bamiyan.
What
he has found are the remnants of the culture that built the Buddhas
one of the most lavish and powerful kingdoms of ancient
Central Asia.
Recently
Tarzi's colleague, archaeologist Mickaël Rakotozonia, stood
in a steady drizzle, surrounded by mud-brick houses, and gestured
to two ancient towers almost lost amid the jigsaw of earthen walls
here.
Between
these two towers, he speculated, might have been a gate into the
Kingdom City of Bamiyan, home to the creators of the two stone
Buddhas carved from a nearby cliff some 1,500 years ago and destroyed
by the Taliban.
But
the Buddhas are only the most obvious example of this country's
ancient riches.
"My
new discoveries have put old discoveries in the background,"
says Tarzi.
He
and Mr. Rakotozonia will continue searching for the Buddhist's
Kingdom City this summer and autumn and the team will perhaps
also begin excavating test pits near Shar-e Gholghola, the citadel
capital of the Ghorid Empire, which followed the Buddhists.
The
white hill city, encrusted with the ruins of centuries past, was
destroyed in the 13th century when Genghis Khan conquered Bamiyan.
According to legend, he was so furious that his son was killed
in the siege that he killed even the mice of the city, leading
to the name Shar-e Gholghola, which means the City of Screams.
To
the north, archaeologists are excavating the city of Balkh, supposed
birthplace of the prophet Zoroaster and location of Alexander's
marriage to Roxana in 327 BC.
But
archaeology in Afghanistan makes for some peculiar working conditions.
There are still mines on Shar-e Gholghola from 20 years of war.
The same is true of the Red City, a three-tiered, 3rd century
BC palace complex hewn from red stone and clinging to a cliff
1,500 feet above the floor of the Bamiyan Valley.
Sayed
Nasir Modaber of Bamiyan's Department of Monuments says demining
projects should begin this month.
Also
conspiring against them is open warfare in much of the country
and perhaps worse a decades-old network of smuggling
that is systematically looting the relics of Afghanistan's past,
sometimes to finance warlords and insurgents.
"If
we add up the values of numerous objects looted and illegally
sold these past two decades, it amounts to several billion dollars
worth of art objects belonging and constituting Afghanistan's
wealth and national heritage," said Abdul Wasey Feroozi of
Afghanistan's Institute of Archaeology at a 2004 seminar.
More
unusual, still, is the practice of refilling every site with dirt
after an excavation is finished.
Indeed,
when Rakotozonia stood beneath the two ancient towers of what
could be the Kingdom City, there was no hint that he stood on
last year's work.
He
helped excavate this patch of ground last year, finding what appeared
to be a warehouse for the Buddhist kingdom that ruled this valley
from the 3rd to the 10th centuries AD. Now, it's as flat as a
courtyard.
It
is better than the alternative, though. Mir Zaka has become synonymous
with the perils facing Afghan archaeology. During the civil war
of the early 1990s, the treasure of the 5th century BC Greek fort
was sold to finance warlords.
Mohammad
Rasuli, director of the Institute of Archaeology in Kabul, remembers
visiting the site, disguised as a businessman, and seeing bags
of historical coins so heavy that two men needed to lift them.
Ornaments, statuary, and stamps were packed away in containers
and protected not only by men with machine guns, but also with
antiaircraft guns.
In
all, he estimates, some 4.5 tons of archaeological artifacts were
lost, some of them even popping up in local markets. But even
from such calamity, Mr. Rasuli draws optimism: "Afghanistan
has hope that we have lots of Mir Zakas."