Rising boldly amid the modern bustle of Istanbul’s Çemberlitaş district, the Column of Constantine — once the centerpiece of a Roman imperial forum — still commands attention nearly 1,700 years after it was first raised.
Rising boldly amid the modern bustle of Istanbul’s Çemberlitaş district, the Column of Constantine — once the centerpiece of a Roman imperial forum — still commands attention nearly 1,700 years after it was first raised.
It was erected in the year 330 AD by Emperor Constantine the Great to celebrate the founding of his new capital, Nova Roma, which soon came to be known as Constantinople. The column marked the spiritual and political heart of the city. At its summit stood a towering bronze statue of Constantine, dressed as the sun god Apollo, gazing over his shining new empire.
In the Byzantine era, the column was more than just a monument — it was a symbol of divine authority and imperial destiny. It anchored the Forum of Constantine, the ceremonial square where emperors were hailed, processions marched, and festivals lit up the imperial capital. It was even said to enshrine sacred relics: including the True Cross, the axe of Noah, and other legendary items believed to protect the city from harm.
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It was erected in 330 AD by Emperor Constantine the Great to celebrate the founding of his new capital, Nova Roma, later known as Constantinople. It marked the city's spiritual and political heart, topped by a bronze statue of Constantine as Apollo.
In the Byzantine era, it symbolized divine authority and imperial destiny, anchoring the Forum of Constantine. Emperors were hailed there, processions marched, and festivals occurred. It was also believed to enshrine sacred relics like the True Cross, protecting the city.
After the Ottomans captured Constantinople, the column remained. A fire in 1779 damaged its base, leading to its reinforcement with iron hoops. This structural addition gave it the Turkish name Çemberlitaş, meaning “the Hooped Stone.”
Its survival is attributed partly to luck and partly to reverence. Over centuries, it was never torn down, seen not merely as a relic of a fallen empire but as an integral part of the city’s soul, a vertical memory.
Long before the domes and minarets of Ottoman Istanbul rose above the skyline, the heart of the ancient city beat in a very different place: the Hippodrome of Constantinople. Built in the early 3rd century by the Roman Emperor Septimius Severus and vastly expanded by Constantine the Great in the 4th century, the Hippodrome was more than an arena — it was the stage upon which the fate of empires danced.
Hidden beneath the bustling streets of modern-day Istanbul lies a forgotten world — the ceremonial heart of a mighty empire. The Great Palace of Constantinople, once the nerve center of the Byzantine realm, now whispers through mosaics, shadows, and ruins. This is the story of a vanished masterpiece — its rise, its fall, and its silent fragments that still breathe today.
Tucked near the Sea of Marmara in Istanbul’s historical peninsula stands Little Hagia Sophia, once known as the Church of Saints Sergius and Bacchus. It was built between 527 and 536 AD by Emperor Justinian I, just before he commissioned the grand Hagia Sophia. In many ways, this church served as a test model. Its central dome and innovative spatial design were prototypes for what would soon become the architectural marvel of Byzantium.
