Exploring the land of fire
Home to the Jewish Red Village and Baku’s eccentric high-rises, Rupert Parker discovers the different sides of Azerbaijan
HO WOULD have thought that one of the world’s last surviving shtetls would be in Azerbaijan? In Guba, in the north-east of the country close to the Russian border, Qırmızı Qəsəbə is an exclusively Jewish town; also known as the Red Village, it’s the largest completely Jewish town outside Israel.
Mountain Jews have lived here for at least 2,600 years, although some believe they arrived 200 years earlier — 150 years before the destruction of Jerusalem and the First Temple by Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king, in 586BCE.
Around 100 miles north of the capital Baku, the town was founded in 1742, with Jews settling here from different parts of Azerbaijan, as well as Iran, Turkey and Dagestan. Set on the south bank of the Gudialchai River, an arched bridge built in 1894 now connects it to the north bank, where the majority Azeri Muslims live in the main part of the city.
As the population grew, reaching 8,400 in 1916, the town once supported 13 synagogues, with Juuri, a Persian dialect also known as Judeo-Tat, as the main language. These days, only around 3,500 people remain, although there are still two functioning synagogues, including the impressive sixdomed Alti Gumbaz Synagogue, built in 1888 by the architect Hillel ben Haim, and used as a warehouse during Soviet times.
Four others are partially ruined, but the Karchogy synagogue has recently been restored and is now the brand new Museum of Mountain Jews. It houses artefacts collected from all over the Caucasus, along with state-of-the-art multimedia displays telling the history of the community. You’ll also find the largest collection of books in Juuri, now spoken by less than 100,000 people worldwide.
Wandering past the richly ornamented two-storey houses lining the streets of the Red Village, it’s remarkable that the settlement has survived two world wars and the prohibitions of the Soviet Union. Even more impressive is the fact that Muslims and Jews have lived in harmony for centuries, facing each other across the river. At the moment there’s no accommodation here but there are plans to convert one of the larger houses into a hotel. So soon you’ll be able to spend a night in this historic shtetl too.
Most visitors base themselves in Baku, where around 15,000 Jews — out of the country’s total of 20,000 — have also settled on the shores of the Caspian Sea. This vibrant modern city, sandwiched between Russia
and Iran, lies at the crossroads of east and west. Yet it was a sleepy backwater until the Nobel brothers, searching for wood for rifle barrels, stumbled across oil here in the 1870s. They partnered with the French branch of the Rothschild banking family, and by 1900, Azerbaijan was producing more than half of the world’s oil.
Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, money from that same oil has fuelled a building boom in Baku. There’s a spanking new airport that looks like a crystal goldfish bowl and, on the way into town, the buildings lining the wide boulevards are all illuminated. I’m overwhelmed by a skyline of thrusting high-rises, in particular the iconic Flame Towers, which dominate the city from every angle. But perhaps the most impressive is the Heydar Aliyev Center, designed by Zaha Hadid. A sea of waves and crests, it changes from whichever angle you view it.
And Azerbaijan’s synagogues haven’t missed out. The Mountain Jewish community had its ageing building rebuilt in April 2011, and now features two floors with prayer rooms for men and women. Even more imposing is the synagogue of Ashkenazi and Georgian Jews in Baku where the two communities worship on different floors. The synagogue, which was designed by architect Alexander Garber and opened in 2003, is one of the largest in Europe.
Wherever you look, there are reminders of the role oil has played in the city. Revenue from this black gold financed the first architectural boom here in the late 19th century. Grand buildings, in the style known as Baku Gothic, sprang up all over and include what is now the Azerbaijan History Museum and the Baku Municipal Duma, both designed by Polish architect Joseph Goslavsky.
A prime example of Soviet architecture is Government House. Dating back 1938, this vast building dominates the seafront Baku Bulvar (or Boulevard) like a majestic wedding cake. But recent buildings provide the real shock of the new; at Crescent Bay, opposite Port Baku, the Crescent Hotel is shaped like a gigantic upside-down crescent moon with its points almost touching the surface of the Caspian Sea.
Strolling along the Bulvar itself — a wide promenade planted with palm trees and home to Soviet-era cafes complete with backgammon players — you can watch pleasure boats pull up here offering sunset cruises, while lovers gaze out over the water. Around 35 miles off the
coast is one other remnant of the oil boom, a derelict city of interconnected oil wells and Soviet-style housing blocks propped up on scuttled ships.
Known as the “Oil Rocks” by the Russians, it’s the oldest offshore oil platform in the world.
Thankfully, Baku’s old city, a stop on the ancient Silk Road, has been safely preserved. Enclosed inside medieval walls, its narrow winding streets, mosques and monuments are Unesco listed, although much has been reconstructed in recent years. At its heart lies the complex of sandstone walls and domes of the Palace of the Shirvanshahs. During the Middle Ages, Azerbaijan’s ruling dynasty held court here and a restoration in 2003 added artefacts and audio-visual displays.
The iconic 29-metre-high Maiden’s Tower sits right next to the sea and dates from the 12th century, although some parts are even older; the walls are five metres thick and were virtually impregnable, hence its name. These days you’re welcomed inside and educational panels on each floor detail its history, before some impressive views over Baku Bay and the Old City if you climb to the top.
The country’s oil and gas reserves have even given Azerbaijan its nickname of the “Land of Fire” and a few kilometres north of the city, you’ll find Fire Mountain, or Yanar Dağ. While the name does sound grander than it is, gas has been spurting out from the base of the rock and burning since before the time of Herodotus, some 2,500 years ago. Today, the ten-metre strip of fire is overlooked by a viewing amphitheatre where they stage musical performances against this unusual and impressive flaming backdrop. Just as impressive is the Ateşgah, or House of Fire, a temple constructed in around the 13th century by worshippers of Zoroaster, or Zarathustra. The main building, complete with a central burning flame and four chimneys, is surrounded by monastic cells, where they’ve rather imaginatively erected mannequins completing tasks the monks once did. The people are very dark, supposedly blackened by the fire, although these days the flames are provided by gas.
For a rather different volcanic landscape, the mud volcanoes of Dashgil lie around 45 miles from the city. Crossing the railway tracks and climbing up a dirt road leads to what looks like a post-apocalyptic world. All is quiet, apart from
the belching and farting of volcanic mud pools bubbling out of cone-shaped mounds; each has a constant stream of mud down the sides and, just like lava, it solidifies as it flows. Beware that when it rains this area turns into deep mire and is completely inaccessible.
Nearby, the area known as Gobustan is home to over 4,000 rock carvings dating back 12,000 years. They depict people hunting, boating and fishing and even dancing at the Stone Age disco.
Guides help you make out the various figures in the landscape as they lead you on trails across the rugged ridge, while the excellent museum provides background information on the Paleolithic people who lived here.
It’s a long way from the hightech modern derricks dotted off the coast of Azerbaijan today, but as even a short visit proves, you don’t have to look far to discover a uniquely fascinating country.