Syria and USA: Lessons from the Fall of Roman Empire
by Trish Schuh
PALMYRA, Syria-- For a brief brilliant moment, like a flickering sunset on the horizon, Palmyra was a mercantile crown of the fading Roman Empire. Situated near an oasis at the nexis of east and west, water and caravan tarriffs insured its rising importance. By the 3rd century A.D. Rome had designated the city 'the capital of the province of Syria.'
Palmyra, "the place of palms" was geared to religious tourism and commerce. Its delicate colonnaded boulevards connected sacred funerary tombs at one end of the city to a monumental entrance arch at the other.
The Temple of Bel, a Babylonian god imported from what is now Iraq, still stands in an affluent district on the east side of town. The Temple's design inspired the Neoclassical trend that was all the rage in the late 1700's. This in turn spawned the later 'federal-style' architecture of many a Wall Street bank.
At the town's heart is a beautifully intact theater and the ancients' trading floor, The Agora, where merchants from as far as China peddled silks, spices and perfume oil. More recently, merchandise from around the world sailed up and down the Tigris and Euphrates, migrating back out again via the Mediterranean or down the Persian Gulf. Today, the West's thousand-year argument with modern day Persia (Iran) continues concerning safe passage through the Straits of Hormuz.
At Palmyra's main intersection, I run into a jewelry salesman I'd met three years ago. He remembers my name and the date of my last visit. The first question he asks is "Wane balidee? Intie Russie?" Arabic for "What is your country? Are you Russian?"
I ignore the Russian jab- I've adopted a new ID.
Several days ago at the Damascus airport, I encountered the Iraqi National Soccer Team and congratulated them on their recent Asia Cup championship. They politely gave autographs, while quietly voicing their opinion. "Bush is a criminal," one said. "He stole everything from us," said another. "He even stole the air we breathe."
Travelling with the players was an Iraqi priest who knew a friend of mine from Baghdad- Fr. Doug. Before the war, Fr. Doug's church was thriving in a rich Baghdad neighborhood. By the time I visited him again in 2005, the rectory had been bombed and the street was closed off with barbed wire for protection. Over his living room door knob he had slung an AK-47, with a candy dish full of bullets on the coffee table for back up. The Iraqi priest told me Fr. Doug finally evacuated to Irbil.
Now when asked "which country?", I cut to the chase, address anti-American blowback, and apologize for the Iraq War/Bush all in one: "Ina shatanea," I say. Slang for "I am of the Great Satan..." Usually that defuses the situation. "No, No!" the jewelry salesman laughs. He reassures me: "Only your goverment."
"But you promised before that you would buy some jewelry and you didn't. Why? Why did you do that?" He looks genuinely hurt. "We have so few customers now," he says.
Because of the influx of millions of Iraq War refugees, and America's increasing sanctions campaign against Syria, its already weak economy has suffered further. Modern Palmyra looks pretty empty, thanks in part to the Great Satan. Now I really feel guilty.
"What about those tourist groups in buses?" I suggest hopefully. "Spanish- no money," he explains. I had seen an Asian man (Japanese? Japanese=rich) on a side street handing something out. It turned out to be a Moonie distributing peacenik literature and trying to convert people.
"OK, well what have you got thats new?" I ask. He pulls out stone beads and camel bone necklaces. "Don't you have anything a little more exotic?"
"Well, I have camel teeth chokers," he says pulling out what looks to be a set of dentures on a string. "Or just one tooth alone." Grabbing a cigarette lighter, he flames over the single tooth to prove it won't melt. "Not plastic. Not made in China."
"That's perfect. I'll take the full mouth's worth." My friend rides off into the sunset on his moped, waving.
Next to cross my path are some kids on camels. Their father is walking beside them. When they find out I am American, the father notes that the West has been invading them for centuries. He points to the ruins. "This- America's future too..."
He's not alone in his opinion. Comptroller General of the USA, David Walker recently issued a warning of "striking similarities between the end of the Roman Empire and the downfall of America", especially regarding possible fiscal collapse from an over-extended military.
Palmyra's demise was also the result of its invasion of middle eastern lands, led by an ambitious ruler. The city was sacked by Rome in retaliation, and fell in A.D. 271.
by Trish Schuh
PALMYRA, Syria-- For a brief brilliant moment, like a flickering sunset on the horizon, Palmyra was a mercantile crown of the fading Roman Empire. Situated near an oasis at the nexis of east and west, water and caravan tarriffs insured its rising importance. By the 3rd century A.D. Rome had designated the city 'the capital of the province of Syria.'
Palmyra, "the place of palms" was geared to religious tourism and commerce. Its delicate colonnaded boulevards connected sacred funerary tombs at one end of the city to a monumental entrance arch at the other.
The Temple of Bel, a Babylonian god imported from what is now Iraq, still stands in an affluent district on the east side of town. The Temple's design inspired the Neoclassical trend that was all the rage in the late 1700's. This in turn spawned the later 'federal-style' architecture of many a Wall Street bank.
At the town's heart is a beautifully intact theater and the ancients' trading floor, The Agora, where merchants from as far as China peddled silks, spices and perfume oil. More recently, merchandise from around the world sailed up and down the Tigris and Euphrates, migrating back out again via the Mediterranean or down the Persian Gulf. Today, the West's thousand-year argument with modern day Persia (Iran) continues concerning safe passage through the Straits of Hormuz.
At Palmyra's main intersection, I run into a jewelry salesman I'd met three years ago. He remembers my name and the date of my last visit. The first question he asks is "Wane balidee? Intie Russie?" Arabic for "What is your country? Are you Russian?"
I ignore the Russian jab- I've adopted a new ID.
Several days ago at the Damascus airport, I encountered the Iraqi National Soccer Team and congratulated them on their recent Asia Cup championship. They politely gave autographs, while quietly voicing their opinion. "Bush is a criminal," one said. "He stole everything from us," said another. "He even stole the air we breathe."
Travelling with the players was an Iraqi priest who knew a friend of mine from Baghdad- Fr. Doug. Before the war, Fr. Doug's church was thriving in a rich Baghdad neighborhood. By the time I visited him again in 2005, the rectory had been bombed and the street was closed off with barbed wire for protection. Over his living room door knob he had slung an AK-47, with a candy dish full of bullets on the coffee table for back up. The Iraqi priest told me Fr. Doug finally evacuated to Irbil.
Now when asked "which country?", I cut to the chase, address anti-American blowback, and apologize for the Iraq War/Bush all in one: "Ina shatanea," I say. Slang for "I am of the Great Satan..." Usually that defuses the situation. "No, No!" the jewelry salesman laughs. He reassures me: "Only your goverment."
"But you promised before that you would buy some jewelry and you didn't. Why? Why did you do that?" He looks genuinely hurt. "We have so few customers now," he says.
Because of the influx of millions of Iraq War refugees, and America's increasing sanctions campaign against Syria, its already weak economy has suffered further. Modern Palmyra looks pretty empty, thanks in part to the Great Satan. Now I really feel guilty.
"What about those tourist groups in buses?" I suggest hopefully. "Spanish- no money," he explains. I had seen an Asian man (Japanese? Japanese=rich) on a side street handing something out. It turned out to be a Moonie distributing peacenik literature and trying to convert people.
"OK, well what have you got thats new?" I ask. He pulls out stone beads and camel bone necklaces. "Don't you have anything a little more exotic?"
"Well, I have camel teeth chokers," he says pulling out what looks to be a set of dentures on a string. "Or just one tooth alone." Grabbing a cigarette lighter, he flames over the single tooth to prove it won't melt. "Not plastic. Not made in China."
"That's perfect. I'll take the full mouth's worth." My friend rides off into the sunset on his moped, waving.
Next to cross my path are some kids on camels. Their father is walking beside them. When they find out I am American, the father notes that the West has been invading them for centuries. He points to the ruins. "This- America's future too..."
He's not alone in his opinion. Comptroller General of the USA, David Walker recently issued a warning of "striking similarities between the end of the Roman Empire and the downfall of America", especially regarding possible fiscal collapse from an over-extended military.
Palmyra's demise was also the result of its invasion of middle eastern lands, led by an ambitious ruler. The city was sacked by Rome in retaliation, and fell in A.D. 271.
