Come with us to Iran!

Iran does not belong to the trendy tourist destinations. This is a great blessing, because if the stunning beauty of the country, its urban civilization, the kindness of the people, the multitude of historic monuments, the sophisticated music and art, and the great Iranian cuisine were widely known, we would not be able to step away from the many tourists, and would not be able to invite our readers to such exclusive tours, like this one, with which we begin to ramble in Iran.

We begin, I say, because Iran is a huge country. From one corner to the other, two thousand five hundred kilometers, and this is just one way. And at the same time, a very diverse country, with so many attractions, from the spring floral splendor of the Kurdish mountains to the amazing colors of the desert of Kerman, the thousand-year-old cities to the caravanserais of the silk roads, the nomadic tribes to the centuries old bazaars, where in the spring the tribes bring down in colorful procession the carpets woven in the mountains during the winter. To see all this, we must return several times. On our first tour, between 22 October and 1 November, we will travel along the central historical axis of Persia, the chain of ancient cities from Tehran to Persepolis.



Soheil Nafisi: همه فصلن دنیا Hame-ye faslân-e donyâ, “All the seasons of the world”. From the album ترانهای جنوب Tarânehâ-ye jonūb, “Southern Songs” (2010). Already quoted in this favorite post, together with the photo of Alieh Sâdatpur.



Our plane departs on 22 October at noon and arrives in the late evening from Vienna via Istanbul to the international airport south of Tehran, from where we will immediately go by rented bus to Kashan, lying about two hours away. In fact, the next day is Iran’s largest religious celebration, the day of Ashura, and if we are this lucky, we must attend it in a traditional town such as the many-thousand-year-old caravanserai city, Kashan. Apart from the series of celebrations, processions and public ceremonies encompassing the whole city, we ramble in the old town built of clay, see the historical merchant houses, and in the evening we dine in a traditional tea house next to the five-hundred-year-old Safavid garden, a world heritage site. We will stay in a four-hundred-year-old merchant house, transformed by young managers into a traditional-style guest house (we will write more about it, together with an interview).


On 24 October, Saturday we make a bus excursion to the mountainous area south of Kashan. We pass by the Natanz uranium enrichment center (taking photos is strictly forbidden, but looking is not), we stop by the 13th-century mosque of Natanz, built by the Mongol khans, and then we reach Abyaneh, the Red Village. We walk the town and its surroundings, have picnic at the creek (where our friend Hamid, the local hotel owner delivers us lunch on donkey-back), and in the afternoon we get back to Kashan. We look around in the bazaar of Kashan – which will have been closed the previous day for the ceremony –, and in the evening we cook Persian dinner together with Farshad, the young Kurdish manager of the guest house.


On 25 October, Sunday morning, we go by bus to Isfahan, two hours away, while stopping at some beautiful sights and traditional villages. Isfahan is the most beautiful city of Iran, which was also its capital for centuries. In this and the following day we tour the city. From our hotel in the center, through the huge bazaar, we reach the main square, which is considered by art historians to be among the world’s ten most beautiful squares. We visit the Imam Mosque, decorated with the blue tiles of Armenian craftsmen, the thousand-year-old Friday Mosque, we ramble in the eight-hundred-year old and still vivid Jewish quarter, the largest Jewish center in Iran, and we cross the five-hundred-year old Si-o-se, that is, the Thirty-three-hole Bridge, to see the Armenian quarter over the Zayande, that is, Life-giving river. We will visit Persian gardens and palaces, will begin the hopeless attempt of going through the entire bazaar, see nomadic carpets, have dinner in old tea houses, listen to traditional concerts.


On 27 October, Tuesday morning, we go by bus to Yazd, the caravanserai town on the edge of the desert. We submerge into the maze of the old town built of clay, which is even more archaic than that of Kashan, and visit still-working caravanserais, mosques many centuries old, merchant houses, sanctuaries. The Zoroastrian religion of ancient Persia – which is tolerated by Islam as a “religion of the book” – has the most followers in Yazd, so we will visit Zoroastrian shrines and “towers of silence” outside the town, where the bodies of the dead were placed to decompose, so they may not contaminate the sacred elements of earth, water and fire. We will have dinner in a traditional caravanserai, and the next day we will make a bus excursion to the most beautiful part of the Iranian desert, which is a national park.


On 29 October, Thursday, we go by bus to Shiraz. This is the longest stretch of our journey, about 400 kilometers, but we do it on highway, while repeatedly stopping at beautiful sights, historical monuments, and, most importantly, at Persepolis, the capital of ancient Persia, magnificent even in its ruins. There I will offer a very detailed art historical tour about the well-preserved buildings, reliefs and royal tombs. Late in the afternoon we arrive at Shiraz, where on that day and the next morning we visit the old city, the bazaar, the beautiful mosques and merchant’s houses. In the afternoon we go back to Tehran on a domestic flight.


In our last day, 31 October we summarize our impressions in Tehran. In the young capital, founded in 1790, there are not many historical monuments, so we will walk in the modern downtown, have a picnic in the Taʿbiat Park, at the world’s largest pedestrian bridge, opened in the past year, and in the evening we will have our farewell dinner a thousand meters higher, under the mountains and next to a brook, in a traditional tea house of the Bohemian quarter of Darband. We fly back in early morning via Istanbul, arriving in Vienna about noon.


On Iran and the Persian culture we have already written a great deal in río Wang, and we will write even more, especially about the places we intend to visit. The posts about Persia are continuously collected in the post Persian letters, look back again and again. And if you are curious about anything, tell us. We are happy to write posts on order, too.

The participation fee, which includes the hotels with breakfast (one bed of a twin/double room), the long distance and rented buses, the domestic flight from Shiraz back to Tehran, and the guide-craft of a Persian-speaking and Iranian culture-savvy art historian, that is, me, is 700 euros. Add to this the cost of the flight ticket (Vienna–Istanbul–Tehran and back is now 330 euro, but you can of course take the flight which is most convenient for you), and the cost of the Iranian visa, which is about 100 euros. The deadline for application is 20 August, Thursday, at the usual e-mail wang@studiolum.com.

Armenian Iran: New Julfa

Earlier: • Armenian Iran: from Tabriz to Julfa • Armenian monasteries in Iran • Armenian cemetery in Julfa

To reach the Armenian quarter of Isfahan, you must first cross the river, the Zâyandarud, which crosses the oasis where Isfahan developed.

From the main square of Isfahan, the Naghsh-e Jahân, you descend straight to the south. The avenue that runs through the gardens, reaches the river at right angle. The four gardens – Chahâr Bâgh –, the extension of the Safavid palaces intended to shape the city as a figure of the paradise.

The map of the Maidan-e-Shah (or Maidan-e Naqsh-e Jahan, the Image of the World) and its extensions built between 1590 and 1602 by Bahaʿ ad-Din al-ʿAmili for Shah Abbas. The various axes of the plan point to an essentially palatial urbanism. The rest of the city was only a disordered aggregate of buildings at that time. The orthogonality of the squares, palaces, canals and gardens is in contrast to the strange curvature of the bazaar that stretched towards the old town, dominated by the ancient Friday Mosque. The Armenian neighborhood of Julfa was built in the following years on the other side of the river, to the southwest of the city.

Under the shady paths, along the fountains, people look at you, smile at you, talk to you. Young girls are playing ball under the trees, old men are having a rest in the grass, children are running. A man I meet every day asks me each time whether he could be photographed with me. And every day someone takes a photo of us with my camera, a photo he does not look at and he will never see, with his hand on my shoulder, and a twisted smile on his lips.

Close by, I pass by a building place, next to which a group of workers are standing on the sidewalk. When I am passing by them, one of them turns to me, with a slice of watermelon in the hand, and he hands it to me. He says nothing, and I do not remember whether he smiled or even looked at me.

I only remember the gesture of the arm that reaches toward me, the watermelon, red like blood, the sunny street with low trees, the deep gap, like a trench, where in the spring a stream has to run. In August, there were only leaves in its bottom.

Arriving at the river, the avenue leads across the most beautiful bridge of the city, the “Bridge of Thirty-Three Arches”, Si-o-Se Pol, built in 1608 by the grand vizier of Shah Abbas, the Georgian Allahverdi Khan. However, in August 2013, not a drop of water passed under the thirty-three arches.

Nobody has really been able to explain what happened to the river. A month ago, it was still there, friends could testify, walkers on the shore could assure me. Maybe it had been diverted to irrigate some other place, a young man suggested. Who knows it?

Beyond the bridge, on the southern bank of the river, you have to cross some modern neighborhoods to reach what was once only a suburb, a city within the city, New Julfa.

View of Isfahan. Adam Olearius, Vermehrte Newe Beschreibung Der Muscowitischen und Persischen Reyse (Schleswig, 1656)

The door of the palace and the courtroom. Nicholas Sanson, The Present State of Persia… (London, 1695)

The grand entrance of the bazaar. Jean Chardin, Sir John Chardin’s Travels in Persia (London, 1720); Les Voyages (Paris, 1811)

Julfa along the Aras, the river which separates Iran from the enclave of Nakhichevan, the city of Julfa no longer exists. Even its last remnant, its medieval cemetery was transformed into shooting ground by the Azerbaijani army.

However, the destruction goes back much further in time, when, in June 1604, Shah Abbas occupied Yerevan, and marched against Kars. Unable to face the Ottoman army, he had to withdraw, and he imposed the policy of scorched earth onto the areas south of the Caucasus, and ordered the deportation of their population to Iran.

All the cities, including Julfa were destroyed, and the entire population, perhaps 400 thousand people, were forced to cross the Aras. The following spring, the Armenians were spread in several regions, including Gilan and Mazandaran in the north, as well as in the rural areas between Isfahan, Shiraz and Hamedan.

Abraham Ortelius (1527-1598), Map of Persia, Antwerp 1608

In 1606, when Shah Abbas began the construction of Isfahan, he ordered the artisans of Julfa to be its first builders. He settled the whole population of Julfa next to Isfahan, some 75 thousand people, maybe more. He also estimated, that the knowledge of the Armenians of Julfa, who were masters of the silk trade in the Levant, would be essential to the integration of Persia in the international commerce: their trading skills would enrich the coffers of the Safavid state, while their profit would increase the capital of Persia. Thus, of all the deportees of the Caucasus, the Armenians of Julfa had the best treatment. Shah Abbas gave them enough time to gather their possessions before destroying the city, they received means of transportation, and they could spend the winter in Tabriz. Upon arrival in Isfahan, they could immediately begin to build on the right bank of Zâyandarud what would become New Julfa, and Shah Abbas authorized them to own land. Twelve years later, the Italian traveler Pietro Della Valle (1586-1652) described the quarter as a cluster of vast houses around a dozen churches. The Armenians built six more churches even on the other side, in the city of Isfahan itself.

Not only the churches showed the importance of the Armenian community in the early seventeenth century. Beginning with January 1607, the Armenians organized large processions through New Julfa on the occasion of Christmas and Epiphany. Among the thousands of participants led by two hundred members of the clergy with cross and banners, and singing hymns, there were not only Armenians, but also Safavid dignitaries, and foreign guests. The scene reminds me a painting – perhaps Carpaccio? or Bellini? Yes, the architecture drawn by Gentile Bellini behind the preaching of St. Mark probably originates from the buildings he saw in Constantinople, when, in 1479, he was the guest of Mehmet the Conqueror. However, the mountains in the background seem to be on a better place in Isfahan than in Alexandria. The turbans, the high hair styles of the women, the purple and silk, the giraffe at the stairs of the church, everything evoke the fabulous East, of which Isfahan was a pearl.

Bellini, The preaching of St. Mark in Alexandria, Pinacoteca Brera, Milan

In New Julfa, the ten thousand Christians were isolated from their Muslim neighbors, while in Isfahan itself, where there were about a thousand Armenian families, the living together was much more tense. The churches, the ringing of bells, the planting of vines offended the Muslims, who obtained the expulsion of the Armenians from the city to its suburbs under the reign of Shah Abbas II (1642-1666). New Julfa was thus enlarged by seven new neighborhoods: Tabriz, Gâvrâbâd, Šamsâbâd, Gask, Kʽočʽēr, Laragel and Yerevan. The entire quarter extended on the both sides of a long avenue oriented east-west, cut by nine north-south streets, which encircled about twenty areas, sets of lanes and courtyards. The main gate was closed at night. The quarter was ruled by the heads of the noble families of the city.


Islamic law recognized the personal and communal rights and freedom of worship of the Christian Armenians – like of a monotheistic minority (ahl al-ketāb, “people of the book”) –, as long as they paid their personal tax. The security of the site was assured by a Muslim police chief (dāruḡa), whose main task was the collection of this tax. He also had to ensure the maintenance of order, and was charged of the criminal cases and the conflicts between Christians and Muslims.

Some pages of the Voyages de monsieur le chevalier Chardin en Perse et autres lieux de l’Orient dedicated to Jolfa (BnF)

Half a century later, beginning with 1686, the French Huguenot traveler and goldsmith Jean Chardin spent a few years in Isfahan. He described the city at length in his Voyages de monsieur le chevalier Chardin en Perse et autres lieux de l’Orient (Travels of Mr. Knight Chardin in Persia and other places of the East), completed in 1711. In the third volume, dedicated to the architecture of the city, Chardin described in detail each quarter of the city, including le bourg de Julfa.

According to him, New Julfa had nearly 30 thousand inhabitants. This population was ruled by the clerics and nobility, the twenty richest families of the community, the princes (išxān), nobles (malek or beg) and lords (paron or āqā). The rest of the population were dependent on them, or, like the poorest, their servants.

On the lower grades of the social ladder, there were the great merchants, who were either dependnt on, or independent of the great families, and the craftspeople – painters, goldsmiths, jewelers, sculptors, scribes and illuminators, watchmakers –, who worked in large workshops.

At the bottom there were the more ordinary artisans, those working on the constructions and ornamentation of buildings, the workers and the domestic servants.

The traders of New Julfa maintained a network of agents, mainly in India and Southeast Asia. They traded with raw silk as well as with cotton fabrics. Their most striking trade route led up the Volga, linking Isfahan to Amsterdam via Arkhangelsk.

They say that in New Julfa once there were more than a dozen churches, schools and scriptoria. Later there were presses, newspapers and libraries as well. The city was long the heart of the production of books in Armenian, hence the many scribes and illuminators. The Primate of the Armenian Church of Isfahan, Xačʽatur Kesaracʽi was invited in 1629 to Lemberg at a theological dispute within the Armenian community of Poland, and he brought back the first printing press, which was set up in the Monastery of the Savior in 1636. The monastery still has a small exhibition showing the manuscripts below.

At the beginning of the 18th century, the situation of the Armenians of Isfahan underwent a dramatic change. The economic difficulties, and the religious tensions related in part to the presence of Catholic missionaries from Portugal and Italy, drove out much of the Armenian merchants. The major setback for the Armenian community came during the Afghan invasion in 1722, which devastated New Julfa, causing a mass exodus of the Armenians. A part of their descendants, who have not left Iran even after the 1979 revolution, still live in the suburb reserved to them by Shah Abbas.

In the hot afternoon, the shops have lowered their curtains, and everything seems deserted. Although the neighborhood is still largely populated by Armenians, the signs are subtle – some shop labels, a menu in the window of a closed restaurant.

From the sixteen churches that remain, only the cathedral, the Church of the Savior, or Kelisa-ye Vank, completed between 1655 and 1664, is consecrated. No doubt, the same Armenian architects traced the plans of this church and of the mosques on the other bank. In Isfahan, the churches are adjusted to the city, and their architecture has little to do with the churches of historical Armenia: raw brick facades, slightly swollen Persian domes, arched decoration.

The exterior of the church seems to be more sober than the excessively decorated interior. The walls and the vault are covered with glazed tiles, the blue and gold dome evokes the Safavid mosques, while the arches have the figures of angels nested in a floral pattern. On the walls, alongside with the images from the life of Christ, they represent scenes of martyrdom of the Armenians in the Ottoman empire – a far cry from the peaceful and inviting Persia. In one corner, an old man with glasses, probably a guard, looks at his newspaper. He yawns, stands up, and goes to chat in the shade of the trees. Birds, flies. A little girl with eyes wide open.

The entrance and hallways, probably because they have not been renovated with the same vigor, seem more welcoming and conducive to meditation. Their motifs come from the Persian miniaturist tradition, along the walls, under the pillars and in the passage, where they align some tombs and funerary monuments. The small cemetery in the backyard has much more recent graves.

As in Julfa, there are very few visitors. A few Westerners, none of the many tourists coming to Isfahan from the Gulf States, no, mostly Iranian families. Persians? Armenians? Who knows? No one asks them, the gate is wide open.

Iran arménien : à la Nouvelle Jolfa

Plus tôt: • Iran arménien: de Tabriz à Jolfa • Armenian monasteries in Iran • Armenian cemetery in Julfa

Pour rejoindre le quartier arménien, à Ispahan, il faut d’abord passer la rivière, le Zâyandarud, qui traverse l’oasis où Ispahan s’est développée.

Pour cela, depuis la grand-place d’Ispahan, le Naghsh-e Jahân, il faut descendre tout droit vers le sud : l’avenue qui traverse les jardins coupe la rivière à angle droit. Ces quatre jardins d’époque safavide qui prolongent les palais, les Chahâr Bâgh, dessinent dans la ville comme une figure du paradis.

Plan du Maidan-e-Shah (ou Maidan-e Naqsh-e Jahan — la place de l’image du monde) et de ses prolongements bâtis entre 1590 et 1602 par Bahaʿ ad-Din al-ʿAmili pour Shah Abbas à Ispahan. On repère sur le plan les différents axes d'un urbanisme essentiellement palatial — le reste de la ville n’étant alors qu’un agrégat désordonné de constructions. A l’orthogonalité des places, palais, canaux et jardins s’oppose l’étrange courbure du bazar qui s'étirait vers la vieille ville que dominait l’ancienne Mosquée du Vendredi. Le quartier arménien de Jolfa fut construit dans les années qui suivirent de l’autre côté de la rivière, au sud-ouest de la cité.

Sous ces allées ombragées, le long des allées, au pied des fontaines, vous croisez des gens qui vous regardent, qui vous sourient, qui vous parlent. Des jeunes filles jouent au ballon sous les arbres, les vieillards se reposent dans l’herbe, les enfants courent. Un homme dont je n’ai pas cessé de croiser la route m’a demandé chaque jour s’il pouvait se faire photographier avec moi. Et tous les jours, quelqu’un nous a photographié avec mon appareil, pour une photo qu’il ne regardait pas, qu’il ne verrait jamais, sa main sur mon épaule et un sourire crispé sur les lèvres.

Tout près de là, j’arrivais à la hauteur de travaux devant lesquels se tenait un groupe d’ouvriers, sur le trottoir. Au moment où j’allais les croiser, l’un d’eux s’est détourné du groupe, une tranche de pastèque à la main et me l’a tendue. Il n’a rien dit, je ne suis pas sûre même qu’il m’ait souri ni même regardée.

Juste le geste du bras qui s’écarte et se tend vers moi, le rouge sang de la pastèque, la rue ensoleillée avec des arbres bas, le fossé profond comme une tranchée où au printemps doit courir un ruisseau. En août, il n’y avait au fond que des feuilles mortes.

Arrivée à la rivière, l’avenue débouche sur l’un des plus beaux ponts de la cité, le « pont aux trente-trois arches » ou Si-o-Se Pol, bâti par le grand vizir de Shah Abbas, le Géorgien Allahverdi Khan, en 1608. Mais en août 2013, pas une goutte d’eau ne passait sous ces arches.

Personne n’a réellement pu m’expliquer où était passée la rivière : un mois plus tôt, elle était là, des amis pouvaient en témoigner, les promeneurs sur le rivage pouvaient me l’assurer. Peut-être, peut-être avait-elle été détournée pour arroser une autre ville me suggéra un jeune homme. Qui sait ?

Au-delà, sur la rive sud, il faut traverser des quartiers modernes pour rejoindre ce qui ne fut autrefois qu’un faubourg, une ville à côté de la ville, la Nouvelle Jolfa.

Vue d’Isfahan. Adam Olearius, Vermehrte Newe Beschreibung Der Muscowitischen und Persischen Reyse (Schleswig, 1656)

La porte du palais et la salle d’audience. Nicholas Sanson, The Present State of Persia… (London, 1695)

La grande entrée du bazar. Jean Chardin, Sir John Chardin’s Travels in Persia (London, 1720); Les Voyages (Paris, 1811)

Jolfa, au bord de l’Araxe, ce fleuve qui sépare là l’Iran de l’enclave du Nakhichevan, Jolfa n’existe plus. Le cimetière transformé en terrain de tir il y a une quinzaine d’années par l’armée azerbaïdjanaise était de toute façon tout ce qui restait de la ville.

La destruction remonte bien plus loin dans le temps, quand Shah Abbas prit Erevan en juin 1604 et marcha sur Kars. Là, ne pouvant tenir face aux armées ottomanes, il dut se replier et imposa la politique de la terre brûlée sur les régions au sud du Caucase puis il ordonna la déportation des populations vers l’Iran.

Toutes les villes, dont Jolfa, furent alors rasées et la population toute entière, 400.000 personnes peut-être, forcée de passer l’Araxe. Au printemps suivant, les Arméniens furent répartis sur plusieurs régions dont Gilān et Māzandarān, au nord, ainsi que sur les régions rurales situées entre Ispahan, Shiraz et Hamadān.

Abraham Ortelius (1527-1598), Carte de la Perse publiée en 1608 à Anvers.

En 1606, alors que Shah Abbas venait de lancer la construction d’Ispahan, il invita les artisans de Jolfa à s’y installer pour en être les maîtres d’œuvre — et ce fut ainsi toute la population de Jolfa qu’il déplaça à Ispahan — peut-être 75 000 personnes, peut-être davantage. Il avait mesuré que la confiance des Arméniens de Jolfa, maîtres du commerce de la soie au Levant, serait essentielle à l’intégration de la Perse dans le commerce international si on plaçait celui-ci sous leur contrôle. Leur savoir de négociants enrichirait les caisses de l’État safavide tandis que leurs profits ramèneraient des capitaux en Perse. Ainsi, parmi tous les déportés du Caucase, les Arméniens de Jolfa furent les mieux traités. Shah Abbas leur laissa le temps de rassembler leurs biens avant de détruire la ville, ils reçurent des moyens de transport et purent passer l’hiver à Tabriz. A leur arrivée à Ispahan, ils purent immédiatement se mettre à bâtir sur la rive droite du Zāyandarud ce qui allait devenir la Nouvelle Jolfa et Shah Abbas les autorisa à posséder leurs propres terres. Douze ans plus tard, le voyageur italien Pietro Della Valle (1586-1652) décrivait un quartier de vastes maisons entourant une dizaine d’églises. Sur l’autre rive, à Ispahan même, les Arméniens avaient construit six autres églises.

Ce ne sont pas seulement les églises qui montrent l’importance de la communauté arménienne en ce début du XVII^e siècle : dès janvier 1607, les Arméniens étaient en mesure d’organiser une large procession à travers la Nouvelle Jolfa à l’occasion des fêtes de Noël et de l’Épiphanie. Parmi les milliers de participants menés par deux cents membres du clergés en grande tenue avec croix et bannières, chantant les hymnes, il y avait non seulement une foule d’Arméniens mais aussi des dignitaires safavides et des personnalités étrangères. Pour ma part, la scène qui me vient à l’esprit sort tout droit d’un tableau — j’hésitais, Carpaccio ? Bellini ? Oui, l’architecture que dessine Gentile Bellini derrière sa prédication de saint Marc trouve sans doute son origine dans les bâtiments qu’il a pu voir à Constantinople quand il y était l’invité de Mehmet le Conquérant, en 1479. Les montagnes au fond semblent plus à leur place en arrière-plan d’Ispahan qu’à Alexandrie. Les turbans, les hautes coiffures des femmes, la pourpre et la soie, la girafe au pied du palais, tout évoque cet Orient rêvé dont Ispahan est la perle.

Bellini, La Prédication de saint Marc à Alexandrie, Pinacothèque de Brera, Milan

A la Nouvelle Jolfa, les 10.000 chrétiens étaient donc isolés de leurs voisins musulmans alors qu’à Ispahan même où vivaient également environ mille familles arméniennes la cohabitation était beaucoup plus tendue : les églises, la sonnerie des cloches, la plantation de vignes offensaient les musulmans qui obtinrent l’expulsion des Arméniens de la ville d’Ispahan vers ses faubourgs sous le règne de Shah Abbas II (1642-66). La Nouvelle Jolfa s’agrandit donc de sept nouveaux quartiers : Tabriz, Gâvrâbâd, Šamsâbâd, Gask, Kʽočʽēr, Laragel et Erevan. L’ensemble s’étendait de part et d’autre d’une longue avenue orientée est-ouest, coupée de neuf rues nord-sud qui dessinaient une vingtaine de domaines, ensembles de ruelles et de cours dont le portail principal était fermé la nuit et que commandaient les familles nobles de la ville. Les chefs de ces familles commandaient à la communauté.


La loi islamique reconnaissait aux Arméniens, en tant que chrétiens, les droits de toute minorité monothéiste (ahl al-ketāb) ce qui leur accordait des droits personnels et publics y compris la liberté de culte tant qu’ils payaient une taxe personnelle (capitation ou jezya). La sécurité des lieux à la Nouvelle Jolfa était assurée par un chef de police musulman (dāruḡa) dont la tâche principale était la perception de cette capitation. Il devait aussi veiller au maintien de l’ordre et était chargé tant des affaires criminelles que des conflits entre chrétiens et musulmans.

Quelques unes des pages des Voyages de monsieur le chevalier Chardin en Perse et autres lieux de l’Orient consacrées à Jolfa — il s’agit de l’édition française de l’ouvrage (BnF).

Un demi-siècle plus tard, en 1686, le voyageur français Jean Chardin, orfèvre huguenot, a vécu des années à Ispahan. Il décrit longuement Ispahan dans ses Voyages de monsieur le chevalier Chardin en Perse et autres lieux de l’Orient qu’il complète en 1711. Dans le troisième volume du récit de ses voyages, consacré à l’architecture de la ville, Jean Chardin décrit précisément chaque quartier de la ville, dont le bourg de Julfa.

Selon lui, la Nouvelle Jolfa rassemblait près de 30.000 habitants. Au sommet de cette population, selon lui, on trouvait les dignitaires religieux et la noblesse — les vingt plus riches familles de la communauté, princes (išxān), grands seigneurs (malek ou beg) et seigneurs (paron ou āqā) dont le reste de la population étaient les clients au mieux, les serviteurs pour les plus pauvres.

En dessous dans l’échelle sociale, les marchants ordinaires — indépendants ou non des grandes familles — et les artisans d’art — peintres, orfèvres et joailliers, sculpteurs, enlumineurs et scribes, horlogers — qui travaillaient dans de vastes ateliers.

Tout en bas, on trouvait les artisans plus ordinaires, tous ceux qui travaillaient à la construction et à l’ornamentation des bâtiments, les ouvriers, les domestiques.

Les négociants de la Nouvelle Jolfa entretenaient tout un réseau d’agents, principalement en Inde et en Asie du Sud-Est. En effet, ils faisaient autant le commerce de la soie brute que celui des étoffes de coton. La route la plus frappante à mes yeux, la plus improbable aussi, est celle qui, en remontant la Volga, reliait Ispahan à Amsterdam en passant par Arkhangelsk.

On trouvait dit-il autrefois à la Nouvelle Jolfa plus d’une dizaine d’églises, des écoles, des scriptoriums. Il y eut plus tard des imprimeries, des journaux, des bibliothèques : la ville fut longtemps au cœur de la production de livres en arménien d’où les nombreux scribes et enlumineurs. Le Primat de l’Église arménienne d’Ispahan, Xačʽatur Kesaracʽi, invité à Lemberg en 1629 lors d’une dispute théologique au sein de la communauté arménienne du royaume de Pologne, en rapporta la première presse d’imprimerie et l’installa au monastère du Sauveur en 1636 — comme en témoignent les manuscrits ci-dessous, exposés au petit musée de l’église du Sauveur.

Au début du XVIII^e siècle, la situation des Arméniens d’Ispahan changea de manière dramatique. La pression économique, les tensions religieuses liées pour une part à la présence de missionnaires catholiques portugais et italiens assez agressifs poussèrent une bonne part des marchands arméniens au départ. Le coup d’arrêt majeur pour la communauté arménienne est venue lors de l’invasion afghane de 1722 quand les afghans dévastèrent la Nouvelle Jolfa, provoquant un exode en masse des Arméniens. Une part de leurs descendants, ceux qui n’ont pas quitté l’Iran non plus après la révolution de 1979, vivent toujours dans le faubourg qui leur avait été réservé par Shah Abbas.

Aujourd’hui, dans l’après-midi torride, les boutiques ont baissé leur rideau et tout paraît désert. Même si le quartier reste paraît-il largement peuplé d’Arméniens, les signes en sont discrets — quelques enseignes, un menu dans la devanture d’un restaurant fermé.

Des seize églises qui subsistent, seule la cathédrale, l’église du Sauveur ou kelisa-e Vank, achevée entre 1655 et 1664, reste consacrée. Les mêmes architectes arméniens ont sans doute tracé les plans de cette église et des mosquées sur l’autre rive. A Ispahan, les églises se fondent dans la ville et leur architecture a peu à voir avec celle des églises de l’Arménie historique : briques de terre crue, coupole persane légèrement renflée, décor d’arcs brisés.

L’extérieur de l’église parait d’autant plus sobre que l’intérieur est extrêmement — exagérément ? — décoré. Les murs et la voute sont couverts de carreaux de céramique vernissée, la coupole bleu et or évoque les coupoles des mosquées safavides tandis que les arcs offrent des figures d’anges imbriquées dans un motif floral. Sur les murs, aux côtés de représentations de la vie du Christ, des tableaux représentent des scènes de martyres infligés à des Arméniens dans l’empire ottoman — bien loin de la pacifique et accueillante Perse. Dans un coin, un vieux monsieur à lunettes, un gardien sans doute, se penche sur son journal. Il baille, se lève, s’en va bavarder à l’ombre des arbres. Des oiseaux, des mouches. Une petite fille les yeux grands ouverts.

L’entrée et les couloirs, sans doute parce qu’ils n’ont pas été rénovés avec la même vigueur, semblent plus accueillants et propice à la méditation. Ils sont peints à fresque de motifs issus de la tradition miniaturiste persane, le long des murs, sous les piliers et dans le passage — là où s’alignent quelques tombes et monuments funéraires. Le petit cimetière dans la cour comporte des tombes beaucoup plus récentes.

Comme à Jolfa, les visiteurs étaient très peu nombreux. Quelques rares occidentaux, aucun des très nombreux touristes venus à Ispahan depuis les États du Golfe, non, surtout des Iraniens en famille — Iraniens ? Arméniens ? Qui sait ? Nul ici ne pose de question, le portail est grand ouvert sur la cour.