Hasankeyf Batman, 2010 - 2017

On the banks of the Tigris River, among steep cliffs and deep valleys, Hasankeyf stood for thousands of years at a crossroads between Upper Mesopotamia and Anatolia. Its rock-cut dwellings, historic bridge, mosques, palaces, tombs and citadel overlooking the river formed a remarkable cultural landscape shaped by successive civilizations.

The precise date of Hasankeyf's foundation is unknown. Archaeological discoveries in the surrounding region, including at Hasankeyf Höyük, reveal traces of settlement reaching back into prehistory, some approximately 12,000 years old. The river, fertile valleys and naturally defensible cliffs made this landscape attractive to communities over many centuries.

Hasankeyf acquired strategic importance along the frontier between the Roman and Sasanian empires. Its defenses were strengthened during the reign of the Roman emperor Constantius II. With the spread of Christianity, the settlement became a center of Syriac religious life. Following the Arab conquests in the seventh century, it was known in Arabic sources as Hisn Kayfa and developed under new political and cultural influences.

One of the city's most prosperous periods came under the Artuqids in the twelfth century. Its position at a crossing of the Tigris encouraged trade, while the great stone bridge, now surviving only in fragments, testified to the engineering achievements of the period. The citadel, palaces, religious buildings and marketplaces were part of a living urban center.

The Ayyubids took control of Hasankeyf in 1232 and contributed to its Islamic architectural heritage. Among the monuments associated with the city's later history are the El-Rizk Mosque, Sultan Suleyman Mosque, Koc Mosque, Imam Abdullah Zawiya and several tombs. Despite Mongol attacks and subsequent political changes, Hasankeyf endured through the Aq Qoyunlu period and entered Ottoman rule in the early sixteenth century. Changing trade routes and regional conflicts gradually reduced its importance.

What made Hasankeyf distinctive was not only its monumental architecture but also its long tradition of life in the caves carved into the surrounding rock. These spaces were not merely archaeological remains: some continued to serve as homes into recent times. Houses, shops and daily activities along the Tigris made the old settlement a lived-in historic place rather than simply an open-air museum.

The construction of the Ilisu Dam brought an irreversible transformation. While the project was presented as a source of energy and regional development, the prospect of flooding the old settlement and its wider cultural landscape prompted years of opposition from archaeologists, historians, environmental organizations and local campaigners. A new settlement was built, and selected monuments—including the Zeynel Bey Tomb and several religious and civic structures—were relocated to a cultural park. Yet moving individual monuments could not preserve the original relationships between buildings, streets, caves and the river valley.

As the Ilisu reservoir began filling in 2019, the lower parts of old Hasankeyf were progressively submerged in 2020. The elevated citadel remained above the water, but much of the riverside settlement, the historic bridge area and the surrounding landscape disappeared beneath the reservoir. The geography of a place inhabited over millennia was profoundly altered.

I photographed Hasankeyf on several visits between 2010 and 2017. In 2010 I joined the 'Save Hasankeyf' campaign and documented historic places accessible during that visit. On later journeys, I was able to photograph certain sites normally closed to the public after obtaining permission from the relevant cultural authorities.

In March 2017, I returned and had the opportunity to document daily life in a cave house that had belonged to the same family for three generations. Through mutual acquaintances, I gained the resident's trust and photographed a home where an ancient rock-cut setting coexisted with electricity, running water and the objects of modern domestic life. The story of this home, subsequently lost beneath the reservoir, is presented in a separate photographic essay: Life in a Cave House — Hasankeyf, 2017.

Looking at these photographs today, I see a record of the final years of a historic environment that has largely vanished. Some monuments were moved, others were submerged, and daily life in the old settlement came to an end. For me, Hasankeyf is not only an archaeological site with a long history; it is also a testimony to how a city's memory and the lives lived within it can be irreversibly changed.