46 - Impressions Of Istanbul, Or How History Never Ends

Summary

Its very name is magic…Istanbul. All its old names are magic…Byzantium …Constantinople. They conjure images of ancient civilizations, always fighting each other, and sometimes enriching each other. But in the end, they had to merge to leave a skyline that fascinates any visitor to this city; and a cultural wealth that takes any person's breath away.

How does one not love those minarets? They may be somewhat ubiquitous, but they never fail to catch one's interest. How not to be awed by the Blue Mosque, by Hagia Sophia, by the Walls of Constantinople? By the Archeological Museum? By the food?

How does one best describe this enchanting place where northern waters join southern seas, and where eastern paths separate from western roads?

Is this where East and West assemble, or is this where East and West split?

Today, the answer does not seem important. Walking at an end-of-season late summer's day down the famous and fabulous 3-kilometre long promenade, İstiklâl Caddesi, from Taksim Square in the north down to the exciting Karaköy fish market beside the Golden Horn by the Galata Bridge, one is struck by how this sprawling city is Central Asian, Middle Eastern and Mediterranean, all at once. It is Muslim, it is Orthodox Christian, it is Greek, and it is Roman. It is imperial.

Of Turkey's 77 million people today, 15 to 19 million live in Istanbul. This means that every fifth Turkish citizen resides in this city. And despite oversimplifying official figures telling us that as many as 99% of Istanbul's residents are Sunni Turks, the profound ethnic mix is all too obvious.

In short, I am seeing before me not only the end product of 500 years of Ottoman ethnic integration, but that of many more centuries of painful intermingling before that. The names of ethnic groups and kingdoms mentioned in the amazing Istanbul Archeological Museum, for example, and who existed in Anatolia and its surroundings read like the Bible and more. Crusaders have been here, Vikings have been here. Huns, Persians, Arabs, you name it, they have been there.

The proud faces one sees are not easy to place. For people living in what is often called a crossroads, they seem to belong so infinitely to the place though.