Tunisia's Impressive Roman Legacy - El Jem

posted on: Jul 18, 2018

By: Habeeb Salloum/Arab America Contributing Writer

Driving northward in the early morning hours, we left Mahdi, tucked away like a precious jewel between Sousse and Sfax, on our way to visit the Roman Amphitheatre at El Jem.  We had enjoyed this attractive port with a prestigious and adventurous past and the capital of Tunisia in the 10th century. Often attacked by Genoese navies and Sicilian forces, it was liberated by the Berbers, who subsequently, repelled numerous attacks by Maltese and Spanish knights.  For us, it was not the city’s historic past, but its myriad of first class hotels, strung along one of the finest beaches in Tunisia, which had given us pleasure.

I was thinking of how ancient Mahdi had evolved into a modern resort town when, all at once we could see towering above El Jem’s structures, its famous Roman arena.  I was somewhat disappointed. This first glimpse was not as breathtaking as seeing it from a low flying plane during my first visit to Tunisia in 1961.  Located on a flat plain, from above, it appeared like a huge battleship on an expanse of ocean. That initial sighting had made such an impression on me that I had always planned to return and explore it in detail.

The Emperor Gordian began the construction of this massive coliseum during 238 A.D. in the North African Roman city of Thysdrus.  In that era, at the apogee of Roman power in Africa, it was one of the richest towns in the Empire with a population of 30,000, serving an area of 1 million inhabitants.  The numerous luxurious villas that have been unearthed attest to the wealth of Thysdrus and its affluence produced mostly from the surrounding olive groves that still cuddle the city, now known as El Jem – a sleepy town of some 16,000.

Despite the fact that Gordian only reigned for a few weeks before being deposed by the Emperor Maximinus, his immense amphitheater has enshrined his name in history.  Gordian’s sprawling gigantic stadium, the largest of all Roman monuments in Africa and once the third largest coliseum in the Roman world, is better preserved than its twin in Rome.  With the exception of a tiny older arena, foundations of villas and parts of cisterns and baths, it is almost all that remains of the city of Thysdrus. Everything else has disappeared.

In the 7th century, Kahena, a Berber queen renowned for her beauty, in her battles against the Arabs, made the amphitheater her headquarters.  She led a number of successful campaigns, always returning to El Jem in triumph.  Eventually, after her defeat she confined herself with a small army in the coliseum.  After a year’s siege, rather than surrender, she killed herself. Folklore has attributed her long hold out to a 25 km (16 mi) tunnel to the sea, which has never been found.

This mighty edifice from the time of its completion remained in good condition until the beginning of the l8th century when a Turkish tax collector employed artillery to subdue some rebels holding out inside.  The resulting breach in the walls almost toppled the structure. Thereafter, much of the fallen stones became a part of El Jem’s buildings, but what remained of the amphitheater was later repaired, hence, saving it from total destruction.

In its days of glory, this tremendous oval structure measured 149 m (489 ft) long and 124 m (407 ft) wide.  Its three tiers of superimposed arches, topped by a fourth story of windows rose to a height of 36 m (l18 ft), and the arena 65 m (213 ft) by 37 m (121 ft) could hold from 30,OOO to 45,000 spectators who came to watch defenseless gladiators being torn apart by starved animals.

Both the gladiators and the wild beasts were kept in subterranean chambers below the coliseum.  The compartments were in the form of a cross in the centre of which, it is said, stood the statue of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius (161 – l8O A.D.).  Within them, lions and other untamed animals were kept separated from their victims until the day of the performance.

The gladiators fought each other or tried to overcome wild beasts for the amusement of all classes of society.  They allayed the boredom of the wealthy and released the frustration of the poor. If not saved by the whim of the governor, the performers met horrible deaths.  How Roman audiences enjoyed these ghastly games seem to be beyond the comprehension of modern man

Over the centuries, the limestone of the amphitheater has been baked by time and the sun into an attractive brownish colour.  Birds nestle in some of the broken capitals and almost all the tiers of the original seats have disappeared. However, one of the tiers and the walls have been partially reconstructed.  Yet, from a distance the view of the coliseum, which seems to have been erected only yesterday, is breathtaking.

The sheer size of this ochre structure and its aura of grandeur draw the admiration of almost every visitor.

Standing a short distance from the walls one is amazed how the amphitheater still thrusts an enormous silhouette up into the sky.  This seemingly ageless Roman colossus, its huge bulk standing out like a small mountain, haughtily dominates the small modern town.

Today, a section of the seats inside the coliseum has been reconstructed – enough to hold 4,000 spectators who instead of the cries of the martyrs and beasts now listen to the fine music of some of the best orchestras in the world.  “How times have changed!” our guide remarked as he talked about the evolving taste of humans through the ages.

After exploring its bottom sections, I climbed up to the higher parts of the ruins, in places appearing very unsafe.  The view into the arena from the high archways was awe-inspiring. I stood a long time reflecting on when this mighty arena was full of activity.  In my imagination; the ruins came to life and my thoughts ran riot. The shouts of men and women becoming excited watching their favourite sport seemed a living reality. Their cries punctuated by the screams of human beings struggling with frenzied beasts filled the arena.  I could almost detect the smell of blood, which had for hundreds of years thrilled Roman audiences.  Suddenly, I awoke from my trance feeling relieved that the circus – the opium of the Roman masses – was only a momentary apparition.