Golden Samarkand - Arrival in the Registan

“Death has no repose Warmer and deeper than that orient sand Which hides the beauty and bright faith of those Who made the Golden Journey to Samarkand.” (James Elroy Flecker)

In truth, Samarkand is a name to invoke more poetry than either Khiva or Bukhara – and yet I was surprised to discover how much of a modern city it is; in Uzbek terms of course. As Khiva is a memorial to times past, Bukhara a crumbling backwater filled with delights – Samarkand is a vibrant city, where daily life goes on around structures from the past, much as life in Rome or Athens seems to disregard the extraordinary sights around every corner. Although it is debateable as to whether this is by arrogance or nonchalance.

Samarkand is the second largest city in Uzbekistan and is of the same generation as Rome, Athens and Babylon. Following Silk Road prosperity ancient Arab manuscripts referred to it as the “Gem of the East” and it has been under Persian rule for much of its history. It was also at the forefront of intellectual scholarship, being dubbed “The Land of Scientists” by Europeans and when Alexander the Great first saw Samarkand, he exclaimed “I heard that the city was beautiful but never thought that it could be so beautiful and majestic”. And that’s from a man who got around a fair bit.

Founded c. 700 BC it was already the capital of the Sogdian satrapy under the Archaemenid dynasty of Persia when Alexander tipped up to conquer it in 329 BC. From the 6th to 13th centuries it grew larger and was populous than modern Samarkand. During this time control of the city fluctuated between the Western Turks, Arabs, Persian Samanids, Karakhan Turks, Seljuk Turks, Karakitav, and Khorezmshah before it was sacked by the Mongols in 1220. They probably needed a breather after that. A small part of the population survived, but Samarkand suffered at least another Mongol sack by Khan Baraq as he needed a swift buck to pay his army. The town took many decades to recover from these disasters and it is astounding that it still exists at all!

In 1370, Timur made Samarkand the capital of his projected world empire Movarounnahr, extending from India to Turkey. For the next 35 years, he indulged in a light spot of urban regeneration, rebuilding the city, populating it with artisans and craftsmen from all the places he had captured and surrounding it with a green belt of gardens. Even elephants were employed in the building works! These gardens were extensive and magnificent, with fruit tree orchards, flower gardens, ornamental pools and a sophisticated irrigation system. They caused Spanish envoy Ruy Gonzales de Clavijo to remark in 1404: "A traveller who approaches the city sees only a mountainous height of trees and the houses embowered among them remain invisible" – sounds rather nice. Samarkand today remains one of the greenest cities in the country, but then again, it is a country of deserts and mountains, so there isn’t that much competition for the title of “Uzbekistan in Bloom”.

Somewhat surprisingly, given his blood thirsty reputation west of the Caucasus, Timur gained a local reputation for wisdom and generosity and Samarkand grew to become the center of the region of Transoxiana. His grandson, Ulugh Beg then ruled the country for 40 years. This extended period of stability enabled Ulugh Beg to create a scientific school that united outstanding astronomers and mathematicians. He also ordered the construction of an observatory; containing a gigantic but precision-made marble sextant with an arc length of 63 meters – amazingly this is still in situ and is able to produce readings with an error margin of only a fraction of a second.

In the 16th century, the Uzbek Shaybanids moved their capital to Bukhara, and Samarkand went into decline. After an assault by the aptly named Persian warlord Nadir Shah, the city was abandoned in the 18th century; but was forcibly resettled at the end of the 18th century by the Emir of Bukhara.

In 1868, the city came under Russian rule when the citadel was stormed by a force under Colonel Abramov (1836-1886). Shortly after, the small Russian garrison of 500 men were themselves besieged. The assault was led by the Bek of Shakrisabz, and the attack was beaten off with heavy losses.

Nowadays things appear slightly calmer. The Registan (main square) remains and is spectacular, very impressive, but unnaturally clean! It was once the main trade and public centre of the city, and is now sited next to a main road full of Uzbek commuter traffic – hardly the aspect the builders imagined. In Uzbek, Registan means ‘sandy place’ which takes one’s mind back to how this would once have seemed – an oasis of power and beauty set into an arid wasteland. No wonder Lord Curzon, Viceroy of India called it “the noblest public square in the world.” Interestingly, the perfect beauty and grandeur of the Registan is achieved not through symmetry – as with the Taj Mahal – but by balance. The Registan is enclosed on three sides by perfectly proportioned structures, with the fourth left open to add to the feeling of space and to lure the visitor in.

Once the visitor has got their breath back from the initial impression they are able to mentally take a step back and observe the sparkling turquoise - a colour known as ‘kok’ in Samarkand - tiled buildings that line 3 sides of the square:

Ulug Beg Medrassa (west) - was finished in 1417 under Ulug Beg himself, and contains mosaics with astronomical themes. About 100 students were taught the sciences, astronomy, and philosophy in addition to theology there. The building is fronted by a majestic portal, flanked by fine minarets. Over the gateway are sumptuous tiles worked into complex geometric patterns.

Sherdor Madrassa (east) – the ‘Lion Bearer’ medrassa was completed in 1636 by the Shaybanid Emir Yalangtush as a mirror image of Ulugh Beg Madrassa, except with the unusual decoration of tiled roaring lions, in blatant violation of Islamic rules

Tilla Qori Madrassa (north) – also known as the Golden Mosque madrassa, was completed in 1660, with a golden dome and a pleasant courtyard. It was here that the pilgrims stayed on reaching their goal of Golden Samarkand.

In Arabic Medrassa means “medieval university” and the interior and exterior facades of these biuldings are decorated with ornamentation of glazed brick, mosaic and carved marble. The square is considered an architectural gem representing the finest in Islamic art.

My first impressions of the Registan are those of awe. It is the sort of place you want to stand in the middle of, gaze up, and spin around like a child. Just drinking in the splendour and revelling in the balance and harmony. Your presence is counter point to the vastness of the monuments and your eyes are blinded by the intricacy of the detail on the tile work. But it is not gaudy. It is beautiful in the same way that a garden is, oozing sublime calm and reflection from every aspect.

In the midst of all this history and amazement, you are brought down to earth by having to put up with the dodgy police sidling up with a “psst – you want climb minaret?!”, snotty-nosed beggar children who grab hold of your sleeves (quite depressing) and the local cafes selling luminous green drinks. We did try some of this noxious liquid, but even though The Aussie was very impressed by the colour – neither of us could finish it. Even the wasps seem repelled by its vile hue.

Despite all the distractions you can’t argue with the impression the Registan makes on you. Unusually (for Islamic art) the tile work includes representations of various animals cavorting across the front of the medrassas – and even human faces. It is a work of great beauty and a thought provoking reflection on these people’s faith. Building such incredibly perfect domes and producing such intricate patterns on tiles would be a feat of design and architecture today and must really have been the pinnacle of engineering and faithful rapture in the past. I can hardly imagine the effect it would have had on travellers arriving dusty in the city at dusk and seeing not just a thriving metropolis, but a square that silently embodied so much power.