The Unsung Digger: Hadji Jorghi and the Tombs of Idalium

Archaeology often celebrates the grand discoveries and the famous figures who lead expeditions. Yet, beneath the surface, countless individuals contribute in ways history might overlook. Their local knowledge, dedication, or sometimes sheer chance, significantly shapes our understanding of the past. One such figure from the annals of Cypriot archaeology is Hadji Jorghi, a native Cypriot from Dali, whose life intertwined poignantly with the extensive excavations led by Luigi Palma di Cesnola in the 19th century.

Cesnola, the American Consul posted to Cyprus in 1865, initially began his explorations in a modest, amateur way near Larnaca. His interest was significantly piqued, however, by an old man from the village of Dali named Hadji Jorghi. Over time, Hadji Jorghi brought Cesnola fragments of sculptures he had found near his village, eventually leading Cesnola to establish a summer residence there, partly to be closer to potential excavation sites.

Hadji Jorghi was, in Cesnola's words, the "pioneer digger of Dali". He had been the one who initially found sculptured remains, which Cesnola later determined had been extracted from a mound of debris left by previous, less successful excavations. It was Hadji Jorghi's initial finds that drew Cesnola's attention to Dali, the site of ancient Idalium.

Life took a harsh turn for Hadji Jorghi. Following a custom prevalent among Cypriots, he had endowed his sons with all his property upon becoming too old to work the fields, leaving himself dependent on their bounty and what little he could earn. His situation worsened dramatically when, having acted as a guarantor in a financial transaction for relatives, he was held liable for the debt. Under Turkish law, this led to his imprisonment. Despite his age, he was marched on foot the fifteen miles to Larnaca and confined for nearly two months. He languished there until a medical officer declared his health was failing, securing his release.

Cesnola encountered him shortly after his return to Dali, finding him seated by the road, "fatigued, hungry, and broken down by grief". The hardship and injustice had taken their toll. The day after returning home, Hadji Jorghi, drawn perhaps by an old habit or a final longing, tottered towards the excavation sites he knew so well. When he did not return, a search was made. He was found in one of the excavated tombs, crouched as if resting, his pipe still in his mouth, having passed away quietly among the ancient remnants he had helped bring to light.

Hadji Jorghi's story is a heartfelt reminder of the human element often obscured in archaeological reports. He was not a scholar or a wealthy patron, but a simple villager whose initial findings spurred significant discoveries and whose life ended tragically, yet fittingly, amidst the very history he helped unearth. His contribution, like that of many unnamed locals, remains a quiet but essential part of the story of Cypriot archaeology.