Jaffa Clock Tower

Stand still for a moment and listen. Car horns from Yefet Street. The rattle of a delivery trolley over paving stones. Somewhere nearby, the hiss of a coffee machine and the smell of fresh sesame bread. Then lift your eyes. Above all this noise rises a slim tower of pale limestone, warm and honey-coloured in the sun. Its clock faces look out over the square, as they have for more than a century. This is the Jaffa Clock Tower, and for many people it marks the true doorway into old Jaffa.

The tower is not very tall. It has three storeys, and each one is a little narrower than the one below. That stepped shape gives it a light, almost delicate look. The stone is local limestone, the same stone you will see on walls and arches across Jaffa. Run your eye up the corners and over the window frames. You will notice careful carving, small arches and neat mouldings. It looks more like a piece of fine furniture than a public monument.

To understand why it stands here, we need to travel back to the early twentieth century. At that time, Jaffa belonged to the Ottoman Empire, the vast Turkish state that ruled much of the Middle East for about four hundred years. In 1901, the Ottoman sultan, Abdul Hamid the Second, marked twenty-five years on the throne. Across his empire, towns celebrated this silver jubilee with new public works. Fountains, schools and clock towers appeared in many cities.

Jaffa's tower was one of these jubilee monuments. It was completed in the first years of the twentieth century. Here is the first surprise. This was not a one-off. Similar Ottoman clock towers rose in other towns of the region, including Acre and Haifa to the north. Jerusalem had one too, above the Jaffa Gate. But the British removed that Jerusalem tower in the 1920s. So the tower in front of you is one of the survivors of a once-common family of buildings.

Why a clock? For a sultan who wanted to show his empire was modern, a public clock sent a clear message. It said that this town ran on shared, measured time. The railway, the post and the port all needed schedules. Before towers like this, most people told the time by the sun and by the five daily calls to prayer. A big public clock in the main square was a statement of order, progress and imperial power, all in one piece of stone.

And Jaffa was a place where time and trade mattered. This is one of the oldest ports on the Mediterranean coast. The Hebrew Bible names it Joppa. In the story of Jonah, the prophet sails from this harbour before the great fish swallows him. By the late nineteenth century, Jaffa was busy again. Pilgrims, merchants and new immigrants arrived by sea. Crates of Jaffa oranges left for Europe. The square around this tower sat right at the meeting point of the old town, the port road and the growing new districts.

Now look at the windows of the tower. Many visitors walk past without noticing them, and this is the second surprise. The windows hold coloured stained glass. These panels were added during a restoration in the 1960s, long after the Ottoman era had ended. They show scenes from Jaffa's long history and legends. If the light is behind them, the colours glow softly. It is an unusual mix — an Ottoman tower with modern Israeli art set into its walls.

Turn slowly and look around the square. This open space was the civic heart of Ottoman Jaffa. Close by stood the Saraya, the old government house where officials ran the town. In January 1948, during the fighting that came before the founding of the State of Israel, a bomb destroyed much of that building. Today you can still find traces of old walls and foundations nearby. The square holds layers of very different memories, and different communities remember this period in very different ways.

Across the road, look for the white walls and slender minaret of the Mahmoudiya Mosque. It is older than the clock tower. It dates from the early nineteenth century, when a powerful local governor rebuilt much of Jaffa after years of war. The mosque, the tower and the old stone buildings around them belong to the same Ottoman townscape. Together they give you a sense of what this crossroads looked like before Tel Aviv grew up to the north.

And Tel Aviv did grow, very fast. In 1909, a group of Jewish families founded a new garden suburb on the sand dunes just outside Jaffa. That suburb became Tel Aviv. Within a few decades, the young city was far larger than the old port town. In 1950, the two were joined into one municipality. That is why the official name today is Tel Aviv–Yafo. The clock tower now stands at the southern edge of a modern city, but it still marks the old centre.

Walk a few steps south and east of the tower and the mood changes. Here begins the Jaffa flea market, a grid of narrow streets full of furniture, lamps, old radios, rugs and brass trays. Shopkeepers drag their wares onto the pavement. Cafés and small restaurants fill the gaps between shops. In the evenings, the area often fills with music and conversation. The tower is a handy landmark here. If you lose your way in the market lanes, just look up and find it again.

To the west, the ground rises toward the old hill of Jaffa. Stone alleys climb past galleries and churches to a park with wide views north along the coast. From up there you can see the beaches and towers of Tel Aviv stretch away in a long curve. Below the hill lies the small fishing port. Out in the water sits a cluster of dark rocks. According to an ancient Greek myth, the princess Andromeda was chained to one of them before the hero Perseus rescued her.

Before you leave, take one more look at the clock faces. They still keep time for the square. Delivery drivers check them. Tourists photograph them. Teenagers arrange to meet beneath them. A tower built to honour a distant sultan has become simply a part of daily life. Notice how the limestone changes colour as the sun moves. It is creamy in the morning, golden in the late afternoon, and almost pink just before dusk.

So stay a moment longer. Listen again to the traffic, the voices and the clink of glasses from the cafés. The tower above you has watched empires leave and a new city arrive. It has seen this square bombed, rebuilt and filled again with life. Now it simply marks the hour. When you walk on, toward the market or up the hill, glance back once. You will see that slim stone tower, still standing at the crossroads of old Jaffa.