The great trade routes which link Europe to Asia have always crossed Turkish territory. One of the most widely traveled of these highways formerly connected the classic shores of Ionia to the fever-laden coast of the Persian Gulf. It was the road to India. The spices, gems and silk of the East reached European buyers by way of this trunk land route. For countless centuries caravans have plied back and forth over the barren plateau of Asia Minor and the sweeping plains of the Mesopotamian depression. This traffic is still maintained although it is now much on the wane. Long files of camels proceeding leisurely at a swinging gait are met occasionally by the traveler in Anatolia. A patient ass leads the way as of old. The turbaned driver plods along unmindful of the historical associations accumulated over his path. He knows however that the steam engine, devised by western ingenuity, is about to deprive him of the scanty pittance which his journeys yield.
Germany is essentially a land power. It was natural that the country should seek to establish land routes over which its control would prove as effective as England’s oversea highways. With this aim in view, the German government lent unreserved support to German captains of industry striving to obtain sole mastery of the great Turkish trunk line. Asia, teeming with thickly populated districts, lay at hand. Britain’s unrivaled sea power afforded its people adequate transportation to these centers of consumption. The Germans realized that a land power could not compete successfully with rulers of the waves. They resolved to acquire commercial supremacy in Asia by the creation of a land route. The Bagdad railroad is the outcome of this realization.
The road starts at Konia at the southeastern terminal of the Anatolian railroad, also a German line, whose tracks reach the Asiatic suburbs of Constantinople. Konia lies in the very heart of the Anatolian plateau, a stern and melancholy land, destitute of trees and sparsely peopled. Here at an average elevation of 2,500 feet above sea-level, the tracks are laid over the ancient highway which leads to Syria. In spite of its mournful scenery, the region is a veritable paradise to the archeologist. It is studded with prehistoric ruins and contains secrets of Hittite history which await the scholar’s investigation. Here and there along the line the dilapidated remnant of a Seljuk building reminds the traveler of the peculiar charm of Mohammedan art.
Beyond the plateau the road plunges into a tangled mountainous district known as the Taurus. The famous Cilician Gates are the only practicable gap provided by nature among bold and abrupt peaks in this region. The armies of Pagan, Christian and Mohammedan monarchs have marched through this gorge in the long struggle between the East and the West which enlivens the history of the ancient East. Cyrus with his retinue of Persian lords and his bands of Greek soldiers found it a convenient opening. Alexander the Great stepped between its narrow walls on his way to conquer the world. Detachments of Crusaders under Tancred and Baldwin bore the banners of the cross through the rugged pass. Later Mongolian hordes sang of loot as they swarmed through the mountain cut.
Unfortunately the ride through this mountain section of the Bagdad line will not be made uninterruptedly in broad daylight. The engineering problems involved are of considerable magnitude. The mountain can be conquered only by means of tunnels and the cost of this method of advance is naturally enormous. It has been estimated at a minimum of $140,000 per mile. In addition to tunnels considerable stretches of very heavy earth-work are required. If the undertaking delights the engineer’s heart, it is on the other hand apt to dismay the capitalist.
The drive through the Taurus does not end the difficulties of construction. This mountain is succeeded immediately by the equally lofty and precipitous Amanus range. Another arduous tunneling section is encountered. Of the two the last is the most difficult and costly. An idea of the heavy expense incurred in this construction work is conveyed by the cost of the wagon road built to reach the mouth of the first tunnel. It has been estimated that over one million dollars have been spent in this preliminary work.
The descent towards the Cilician plain is steep. To the west Tarsus, the birthplace of the Apostle Paul, looms a blot of white over the grayish green of the surrounding land. The change from the dreary scenery of the plateau is a delight to the eye. The valleys leading to the Mediterranean coast are wooded. Vegetation soon assumes a southern aspect of luxuriance. The sensation of finding oneself in an altogether different country is especially felt on hearing the sonorous accents of Arabic now spoken in place of Turkish.
From the site of the Amanus tunnels to Aleppo the line was completely built in 1915. Thence it strikes eastward only to turn south after reaching the Euphrates river. From here on to Bagdad trains will run through the great alluvial flood plains of Mesopotamia. This is a rainless district. The present large cities, Mosul, Bagdad and Basra, have no important share in world affairs in comparison with the political and cultural influences which radiated far outward from the precincts of ancient Nineveh and Babylon.
Between Konia and Bagdad the railroad is 1,029 miles long. For convenience of operation it is divided into sections of approximately 130 miles in length or more correctly of 200 kilometers. Construction on the first section was begun shortly after the award of the concession. This portion of the road was opened to traffic in 1904. Building was abandoned until 1910 owing to lack of funds. In May of that year operations were resumed at different points of the line. By the middle of 1913 about 400 miles had been completed.
Since the beginning of the European war, construction has been pushed with increasing speed. In northern Mesopotamia the construction of a bridge over the Euphrates at Jerabluz allows the laying of tracks with a fair degree of rapidity in the northern stretches of the Syrian desert. Work was also undertaken at Bagdad in a northerly direction. In the last days of 1914 trains were running regularly in the valley of the Tigris between this city and Samarra. Since then, according to reports, the tracks have advanced farther north.