Arg-e Bam

A view of Bam before the earthquake, from N. Kasraian, Our Homeland Iran

A visit to Bam citadel is one of the deepest, most poetical and exciting experiences of those who have visited this mud-brick city. It is the experience of a time in the past, with no sign of the present time. At sunset, when the sky of the desert would become red and a red light would cast on the mud-straw walls changing the atmosphere, nothing would prevent you from feeling the sunset of life in these walls — a time when people lived centuries ago in this mud-brick houses. In such a moment you would see all of the inhabitants of the past two thousand years in the alleys, in the tower and ramparts, in the houses and mosques and you would wonder that as long as these structures exist they are not going to die.

The devastation of the citadel is not just the destruction of mud-brick walls. It is the extermination of all those who had continued to live in there for thousands of years. It was more than thirty thousand people lost their lives in the devastating earthquake of Bam and thousands more laid down their lives by the destruction of the citadel. However, one could still hope to save some lives. Any remaining wall or one that could be recovered from the debris can rescue hundreds of historical lives.

Bam is one of the cities that was established on the Silk Road, at the edge of the Lut Desert. Its fame came from its dates and its textiles, particularly the fine cotton fabrics that were traded across the ancient world. The city gained prominence during the Safavid period and continued to thrive until the Afghan invasion in the early 18th century. With a history stretching back more than two millennia, Bam was one of the most significant urban centers in southeastern Iran.

The modern city of Bam had grown around and to the south of the old citadel. Before the earthquake, the city had a population of about 100,000 people and served as the administrative center of Bam County. The city's economy was largely based on date palm cultivation — the Bam date palms, visible in the aerial photographs surrounding the citadel, were famous throughout Iran and the region.

The citadel of Bam (Arg-e Bam) stands on a rocky outcrop at the northern edge of the city. The entire fortified area, known as the old city, encompasses approximately 180,000 square meters and is surrounded by walls with 38 watchtowers, reaching heights of up to 18 meters. Within this vast enclosure, the city was organized in distinct zones: the citadel proper (the governor's quarter) on the highest point, the military quarter with barracks and stables, and the common people's quarter with its bazaar, mosque, and residential neighborhoods.

The governor's residence sat at the highest point of the citadel, commanding a view of the entire city and the surrounding desert. This was a multi-story structure with elaborately decorated rooms, a reception hall, and private quarters. Below it, the military barracks housed the garrison that defended the city, complete with stables for horses and storage for weapons and provisions.

The old city within the walls contained everything needed for urban life: a bazaar lined with shops, a congregational mosque (Jame Mosque), public baths, an ice house that used the remarkable Persian engineering of ice storage without mechanical refrigeration, and residential quarters organized by occupation and social standing. The narrow winding alleys, rarely wider than two meters, provided shade from the brutal desert sun and created natural ventilation patterns.

One of the most remarkable engineering achievements of Bam was its qanat system — a network of underground channels that brought water from the mountains to the north. These qanats, some dating back over two thousand years, were the lifeline of the city and its surrounding gardens. The qanat system fed the city's water supply, irrigated the famous date palm gardens, and sustained life in one of the driest environments on earth.

The qanats were constructed with remarkable precision, maintaining a gentle gradient over distances of many kilometers to ensure a steady flow of water. Access shafts at regular intervals allowed maintenance of the underground channels. This system represented one of the great achievements of Iranian hydraulic engineering and was inseparable from the urban fabric of Bam.

The first restoration efforts at Arg-e Bam began in 1953 under the direction of the Iranian Cultural Heritage Organization. Since then, several phases of restoration had been carried out, particularly between 1976 and 1994, when significant work was done on the entrance gate, the governor's quarter, and the outer walls. The restoration philosophy evolved over time, from early approaches that sometimes used inappropriate materials to later work that adhered more closely to traditional building techniques.

The entrance gate of the citadel had been restored multiple times. Photographs taken before, during, and after various restoration campaigns show the progressive improvement of restoration methodology. The later restorations used traditional mud-brick techniques and were more sensitive to the original character of the structures.

On December 26, 2003, at 5:26 AM local time, an earthquake measuring 6.6 on the Richter scale struck the city of Bam. In a matter of seconds, what had endured for over two millennia was reduced to rubble. More than 26,000 people perished — roughly a quarter of the city's population. The earthquake destroyed approximately 85% of the structures in the city of Bam and its surrounding villages.

The damage to the citadel was catastrophic. The governor's residence, the most iconic structure of Arg-e Bam, collapsed almost entirely. The great tower — the tallest and most recognizable element of the citadel — crumbled. The southern wing of the military barracks, which had recently been restored, was completely destroyed. The bazaar, the mosque, the residential quarters — all suffered devastating damage.

Yet amid the devastation, there were elements that survived. The northern section of the stables appeared relatively intact. The entrance gate of the governor's residence, though severely cracked, remained standing. Some of the older, unrenovated sections paradoxically fared better than recently restored areas, raising questions about restoration methodologies and the use of cement-based mortars in place of traditional mud-brick binding.

The immediate aftermath was one of profound shock. For those who had known and loved the citadel, the photographs of the destruction were almost impossible to bear. The southern walls, which had stood for centuries, now lay in heaps of dust. The carefully restored rooms of the commander's house were reduced to formless mounds. The barracks, with their deep cracks and leaning walls, seemed to be waiting for the next tremor to finish what the earthquake had started.

In the days that followed, international attention focused on the human tragedy. But for those concerned with cultural heritage, another dimension of loss became apparent. Arg-e Bam was not merely an archaeological site — it was the largest adobe structure in the world, a living textbook of earthen architecture spanning two millennia. Its destruction represented an irreplaceable loss to humanity's architectural heritage.

The UNESCO World Heritage Committee inscribed Bam and its Cultural Landscape on the World Heritage List in 2004, placing it simultaneously on the List of World Heritage in Danger. An international reconstruction effort, involving experts from Japan, Italy, France, and other countries, began shortly after the earthquake. The goal was not merely to rebuild walls, but to resurrect a living monument — one that could once again speak to visitors of the centuries of human life that had unfolded within its embrace.