Justiniana Prima

Listen first. Wind moves through the grass on this low plateau, and somewhere below, water runs in a stream between the trees. Under your feet the ground is uneven. Grass and loose earth cover old stone. Pale walls rise only a little above the turf, but they run in long straight lines across the hillside. This quiet field in southern Serbia once held a city built by one of the most ambitious emperors of the late Roman world.

The local name for these ruins is Caričin Grad, which means the Empress's Town. Most scholars identify the site with Justiniana Prima, a city founded in the sixth century by the Emperor Justinian. He ruled the Eastern Roman Empire from Constantinople, the city we now call Istanbul. Historians often call this state the Byzantine Empire. Justinian was born in this region, in a rural Latin-speaking family, and he never forgot it.

Why build a city in a remote valley? The answer is pride and memory. Ancient writers record that Justinian wanted to honour the land of his birth. The court historian Procopius, who wrote about the emperor's building projects, describes a new city near his home village. He tells of aqueducts, churches, porticoes and baths. Exactly where that village stood is still debated. But the ruins around you match the description closely, and that is why most archaeologists accept the link.

This was not only a city of stone. It was also a city of power in the church. In the 530s, Justinian issued a law that made Justiniana Prima the seat of an archbishop. That archbishop had authority over a wide area of the Balkans. So a small, newly built town suddenly stood at the centre of religious life for many provinces. Imagine priests, officials and messengers climbing this same slope, carrying letters and disputes from far away.

Now look at the layout of the site. The city has three main parts. At the top stands the acropolis, the highest and most protected zone. Below it is the upper town, and further down is the lower town. Each part had its own defensive walls. This was a planned city, not a village that grew slowly. Its builders designed streets, gates and public spaces from the beginning, much like a modern new town.

On the acropolis you can trace the outline of the large episcopal basilica. This was the church of the archbishop. Next to it stood a baptistery, the building where new Christians were baptised. In ancient times these floors were covered with mosaics, small pieces of coloured stone set into patterns. Some mosaic sections survived and have been studied and protected. If you see shelters or covered areas, they often protect these fragile floors from rain and frost.

Here is a detail many visitors miss. In the upper town there is a round public square. It is rare to find a circular forum in a city of this period. Colonnaded streets met at this circle, so it worked like a roundabout for people on foot. Archaeologists found the base of a statue in the centre. Nobody knows for sure whose statue stood there. Some think it showed the emperor himself, but that remains a guess.

Walk the main streets if paths allow, and notice how wide they feel. Once they were lined with porticoes, which are covered walkways supported by columns. Shops and workshops opened onto them. People could walk in the shade in summer and stay dry in the rain. Today only column bases and low walls remain. Still, with a little imagination, you can see a busy main street running down this hillside.

The city also needed water, and a great deal of it. Justinian's engineers built an aqueduct that brought fresh water from the hills. They also built cisterns to store it and baths for the citizens. Water from higher ground flowed down to the town by gravity. That is one reason the city sits on this slope. The streams on either side of the plateau also gave natural protection, like a moat made by nature.

And now the second surprise. This grand city lived for only about a century. In the early seventh century, the Balkans faced invasions and raids, including attacks by the Avars and the movement of Slavic groups. The imperial frontier collapsed. Justiniana Prima was abandoned, and it was never rebuilt. For a city created with so much effort, its life was very short. Because no later town grew on top of it, the plan survived almost untouched beneath the soil.

The ruins slept for well over a thousand years. Serious excavations began in the early twentieth century, and they have continued through many decades. Serbian archaeologists have worked here, often together with French teams. Each season adds new information about houses, workshops, churches and streets. Researchers have found more than a dozen churches on the site. That is a remarkable number for a town of this size, and it shows how important faith was here.

The site is also valued far beyond Serbia. It has been placed on the tentative list for UNESCO World Heritage status, a first step toward international recognition. For visitors, the best way to understand it is slowly. Read any signs you find, follow the marked paths, and pause at the high points. From the acropolis you can see the valley around you. The same hills framed the view for the people who lived here.

Before you leave, stand still for a moment. Look at the line of a wall near your feet. Each stone was cut, carried and set by hand, under the plan of an emperor who wanted to honour his home. Then the city emptied, and the grass returned. As you walk back toward the road, listen again for the stream and the wind. They were here before the city... and they are still here after it.