MARI | THE LOST CITY OF MESOPOTAMIA
InfoMari the Lost City of Mesopotamia was located in Syria early in the 20th century. It turned out to be the first of a startling series of archaeological discoveries. A palace and temples followed – and soon an entire city was brought to light.
TELL HARIRI LIES ON THE WEST BANKof the river Euphrates in Syria, 12km (71⁄2 miles) from the border with Iraq. In the early 20th century, people considered the ruins at the site to be of little interest – there were scores of similar sites, or tells, throughout the lands of the Middle East. But in the 1930s, while Syria was a French mandate, a Bedouin foraging among the ruins for a suitable gravestone discovered a headless statue.
The statue bore an inscription in cuneiform – ancient, wedge-shaped writing. The local authorities hurriedly stopped casual digging at the site, and they sent the French archaeologist André Parrot to explore the tell.
Parrot unearthed a large number of alabaster statues of the period known as Early Dynastic III, most of them inscribed with the Semitic names of kings, viziers, and priests. One, bearing a dedication to the goddess Ishtar, was inscribed with the name of the king of Mari – a find that unlocked the secrets of the site. Tell Hariri stood on the ruins of the lost city of Mari.
A MYSTERY IS SOLVED
The name of Mari had already cropped up in the records of the great Mesopotamian civilization of “Sumer”, discovered by earlier archaeologists. “Sumer” was centered on the delta of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, where great cities such as Uruk, Nippur, Eridu, and Ur flourished some 3,000 years before the birth of Christ. Its people invented writing, and in early texts now known as the king-list, they named Mari as one of the dozen or so city-states struggling for supremacy between about 3000 and 2300 BC. But Tell Hariri was a long way from the known centers of “Sumerian” civilization – and its discovery revolutionized thinking about ancient Mesopotamia. Clearly, its culture had been shared by other peoples living much farther up the Euphrates than had been imagined.
While working on the site in 1934, Parrot was visited by Henri Frankfort, a Dutch archaeologist then exploring Tell Asmar and Khafajeh, some 400km (250 miles) to the east. His findings were strikingly similar to Parrot’s, suggesting that a single civilization spanned the entire breadth of Mesopotamia. Parrot went on to reveal the true grandeur of ancient Mari. He discovered two royal palaces, one of which dated back to 2500 BC – the time of the Early Dynastic Period – and a haul of inscribed tablets, which helped to build up a vivid picture of the city’s history.
A COMMERCIAL HEARTLAND
Mari’s importance grew from its key position on the trade route connecting Mesopotamia with Syria to the northwest. The “Sumerian” settlements of the delta were rich in agricultural produce, but they needed crucial raw materials from Syria to sustain their city culture. “Sumer” exported corn, leather, and wool to receive in return scarce building materials such as stone and timber. Silver and lead came down from the Syrian hills to supply “Sumerian” metalworkers. They imported copper from as far away as the Taurus Mountains in Asia Minor and from Magan (the Oman coast) in the Persian Gulf.
As trade expanded, emissaries on military and diplomatic missions traveled to Mari to maintain links with its supply lines. During excavations of the Early Dynastic palace, André Parrot discovered a cache of objects, including several cylindrical seals, which Mesannepadda, king of the “Sumerian” city of Ur, presented to the local ruler. The evidence showed that Mesannepadda sent an important diplomatic mission to Mari around 2500 BC. Mesannepadda sent a scribe as his envoy. The king sent a message of friendship to Mari’s ruler, offering an alliance and rich gifts, including a magnificent blue Anzu bird pendant of lapis lazuli imported from beyond the Iranian plateau and inscribed with the royal sender’s name. Ur dominated many of the other “Sumerian” cities at the time, so nobody would have obstructed the envoy’s caravan. As it traveled up the valley of the Euphrates, the envoy noticed linguistic changes. But the “Sumerian” scholar had no problem understanding the Semitic tongue: Bedouin herdsmen often drove their cattle up and down the valley and mixed freely with the city-dwellers in the south. Ur residents understood their language.
In the dry uplands of the Euphrates, Mari loomed like an oasis, irrigated by networks of canals leading off the great river. A dyke protected the city from flooding, and ramparts of unbaked brick fortified its walls. A royal official greeted the envoy at the gates and conducted him to the newly erected palace.
In the great visitors’ courtyard, the envoy awaited an audience. At the appointed time, a group of dignitaries arrived—scribes, army officers, and relatives of the king—followed by the king himself. The king wore a costume similar to his entourage, consisting mainly of goatskin from waist to ankle, but he distinguished himself with the arrangement of his long hair, plaited in a diadem around his head with a double bun above the nape of the neck.
RICHNESS AND ROYALTY
After a short reception ceremony, the envoy followed the king through several halls to a courtyard with a decorated altar and walls inset with rectangular columns. From the courtyard, two doors opened into a long chamber, the sanctuary, at the back of which was another room containing the sepulcher of the dynasty’s ancestor. Above his tomb was an altar where the reigning king officiated as high priest and god.
On the walls, mosaics illustrated New Year festivals in which the king stood in for his god and the queen played the god’s consort, acting out a divine marriage ceremony. If their union proved fruitful, it predicted a fertile year. Artisans carved the mosaic figures from mother-of-pearl imported from the Persian Gulf and mounted them in bitumen on wooden panels. The envoy would have been familiar with the content of the mosaics—New Year’s rites were similar to those practiced at Ur—but he would have found the artistry unusually refined. Mesannepadda intended his diplomatic mission to tighten the bonds between Ur and Mari. Clouds gathered to the west where the king of Ebla (present-day Tell Mardikh) posed a serious threat. This fearsome monarch subjugated his neighbors and conquered many more distant areas.
The king of Mari clearly wanted to show the importance he attached to the visit of the “Sumerian” envoy. His treasury prepared offerings for burial beneath the new palace’s foundations: copper, gold, and silver bracelets, silver pendants, and a series of cylinder seals from the city’s workshops. A king of Syria sent two statuettes of goddesses, one of ivory, the other silver. Both were naked—shocking to a “Sumerian.” They added the cylinder seals and pendant of lapis lazuli from Ur to this hoard of treasures. They placed all these items in a large jug and buried it beneath the courtyard. For the benefit of the gods, this act symbolized the splendor of the king of Mari and the scope of his international relations.
THE COMFORT OF THE FAMILIAR
Over the centuries, Mari underwent developments like any other city. But even in 2400 BC, a century after Mesannepadda’s envoy visited, a “Sumerian” traveler would have found much to remind him of home.
Mari’s narrow, carefully laid-out streets resembled those of Ur. Near the palace stood the temple of Ninni-Zaza, a goddess also known at Ur. Through the temple’s entrance hall was something rather less familiar to a “Sumerian”: a tapering stone set in the middle of the temple courtyard. In Mari, the gods not only took human shape—their presence also dwelled in stone. Mari’s western neighbors shared this belief, which alienated the “Sumerians.” They regularly anointed the stone with oil, and priests placed offerings of sacred cakes nearby. Two doors led from the entrance hall to a chamber where the goddess sat, wearing a horned tiara. Below it, priests poured water into vases sunk into the floor. They placed offerings of food on a nearby table. A host of statuettes carved from white alabaster or limestone stood on a brick bench facing the entrance.
They depicted the notables of Mari in postures of reverence and prayer. One bore the inscription Iku-Shamagan, ‘King of Mari.’ Others represented Salim, the ‘King’s Eldest Brother,’ Mashigirru, the ‘Country’s Grandee,’ and lastly the ‘Royal Cup-bearer,’ ‘Steward of the King’s Household,’ and ‘Great Scribe’ (the prime minister, Ipumsar). The inscriptions used a Semitic language, but the script was “Sumerian” and easy enough to decipher since the symbols represented concepts as much as sounds. Religion at Mari differed in some important ways from that practiced at Ur. Images on cylinder seals found at the site depict the Sun god, the patron deity of Mari, at the prow of a serpent-shaped vessel, brandishing a leafy branch.
The god sailed the celestial ocean, which ancient people believed to span the world and feed the Earth’s rivers. He reigned over the Universe as the master of all life, particularly of plants. In this capacity, he also served as the patron of ploughmen, and they depicted a plow at his side. Ur’s patron deity, the moon god Nanna, appeared in a more down-to-earth fashion. Nanna was the highest in a hierarchy of gods: each deity exercised power through spirits who fulfilled specific roles.
But despite the power of the gods and the alliance with Ur, Mari soon fell. Sometime between 2350 and 2300 BC, invaders destroyed the city. Historians are unsure of who the invader was: some suggest the ruler of neighboring Ebla, while others point to the mighty Sargon of Akkad, who, from his capital near Babylon, conquered lands between the Persian Gulf and the Mediterranean to establish the first Mesopotamian empire. When Mari became part of this empire, builders began reconstructing the ruins. However, Sargon’s supremacy crumbled within a century and was eventually replaced by a “Sumerian” empire based at Ur. From about 2111 to 2003 BC, Mari’s rulers served as vassals to Ur. This period was marked by deep disturbances. Nomadic peoples from the Syrian desert and beyond gradually migrated into Mesopotamia.
They became established at Mari, and one of their princes marched from the city on Ur, joining forces with the Elamites of the Iranian plateau to the east to destroy the last “Sumerian” dynasty. Ur’s glory was at an end. However, the new rulers, the Amorites, adopted the civilization of the conquered peoples and restored the kingdom. At the end of the 19th century BC, the Amorite Yagit-Lim founded a dynasty at Mari. Trade flourished, and the city’s workshops thronged with craftsmen. Mari became famous for its metalwork, producing everything from fish hooks to ploughshares.
But the city did not stand alone as a major power. During the rule of Yagit-Lim’s son, Yahdun-Lim, the Assyrian king Shamshi-Adad controlled the middle valley of the Tigris from his base at Ashur. Shamshi-Adad looked jealously at the stretch of the Euphrates controlled by Mari, and had Yahdun-Lim assassinated, placing his own son, Yasmah-Addu, on the throne. But the Assyrian prince was weak, and when his father died, Mari was seized by a usurper, Ishar-Lim. The legitimate heir took his opportunity and returned from his refuge at Aleppo to drive out the usurper. The name of the rightful king was Zimri-Lim.
INSIDE THE ROYAL CHAMBERS
Zimri-Lim (c.1780-1759 BC) took over and extended the palace, making it the administrative heart of the kingdom. Contemporaries considered it one of the wonders of the world. Archaeologists found it to be a major discovery. A single entrance flanked by towers provided access to the fortress-like building. Beyond the entrance, a series of quadrangles led to a large courtyard shaded by palm trees.
Scholars refer to this ‘palm court’ as the site of Mari’s old administrative center. From it, a sacred way led to the palace chapel—a shrine built over the ruins of the old palace’s sanctuary. An audience hall opened onto the courtyard. The walls of the courtyard displayed paintings from before Zimri-Lim’s time, depicting Mari’s king making a libation to the Moon-god.
To the west of the Palm Court, Yahdun-Lim and Zimri-Lim added private apartments for the royal family. Servants positioned two terracotta baths beside a hearth in the queen’s chamber to heat water. Near the state rooms, apartments for distinguished visitors contained bathrooms with latrines and well-equipped kitchens.
The building’s plumbing arrangements were remarkable. Builders applied coatings of bitumen on the floors and lower walls of the bathrooms to protect against dampness. Brick gutters were set into the paving, and workers sunk clay pipes lined with bitumen 9m (30ft) into the ground. While excavating the palace, André Parrot discovered the efficiency of the drainage system. A sudden cloudburst soaked the site, creating chaos with mud and water in the pits and trenches, but the waters subsided in minutes, carried away by the 4,000-year-old plumbing system.
The domestic wing and service rooms connected to the royal apartments, and a ceremonial courtyard about 29m (95ft) long and 26m (85ft) wide. An enormous door led from the courtyard to the throne room, which opened onto a vast royal temple. The throne stood on a dais at the back of the temple, facing a gallery. This inner sanctum of the dynastic cult housed royal statues of Mari’s ancestral kings on plinths.
The absence of windows is an interesting feature of the palace. Daylight probably entered through broad doorways opening onto the courtyards or through circular skylights.
LETTERS FROM THE PAST
Tireless scribes of Mari recorded the construction details of the palace, including decrees for building canals, dams, and embankments, and archived them in rooms adjoining the ceremonial courtyard. They have found more than 20,000 tablets, providing a mass of information on court life and royal administration.
Some of the most human touches appear in the letters of wives writing to their lords who were away on military campaigns. They provide family news and express affection and respect. This, for example, comes from a queen identified as Shibtu: ‘May my lord beat his enemies and may my master then return to Mari safe and sound with joy in his heart.’
Scribes also recorded affairs of the state, such as imports and exports, and details of censuses taken to assist taxation and military conscription. Although they accompanied the census with an issue of free beer and bread, the tribes of nomads within the city’s frontiers showed a marked reluctance to be counted.
From the mass of tablets, the kings of Mari emerge as responsible and respected administrators. Inscriptions record many appeals for mediation in disputes and countless gifts from loyal subjects. They seem to have firmly maintained public order. One tablet records that they found a child’s mutilated body outside Mari, and a full inquest was promised.
These documents reveal that the main concern of the kings of Mari was the raids of nomads from the Syrian desert: the savage Suteans, most fearsome of all; the Yaminites (or Benjaminites), who were herdsmen like the patriarchs of the Bible; and the Haneans, who were eventually assimilated and provided excellent soldiers.
Yet the unruly nomads did not bring about Mari’s downfall. In Babylon to the south, a new star rose. King Hammurabi became the master of lower Mesopotamia. Much of what is known of his reign comes from Mari’s archives.
A FINAL GESTURE
At first, Hammurabi and Zimri-Lim controlled the entire length of the Euphrates as close allies. But once Hammurabi conquered central and southern Mesopotamia, he began to look north, towards the valuable trade routes leading from Mari to the Mediterranean. The Babylonian monarch suddenly turned on his ally. In 1759 BC, he defeated Zimri-Lim in battle and reduced him to vassalage.
At first, Hammurabi spared Zimri-Lim. Perhaps to reinforce his waning authority, Zimri-Lim ordered artists to paint a large mural on an outer wall of the ceremonial courtyard, near the door to his throne room. On the upper section, the mural depicts the king, draped in an elaborately fringed costume, honored by Ishtar, the goddess of war. Tall panels with stylized trees, birds, and mythical animals framed the mural.
The painting was the most richly ornamented of any found in the palace, but the gesture was in vain. Two years later, Hammurabi marched on Mari, captured it, and destroyed it by fire. Although Assyrians settled the site in the first millennium BC, they had eradicated its significance—the ancient city was never to rise again to its former glory.