“Carthago delenda est.” So bitter was the rivalry between Rome and Carthage that famed Roman orator Cato the Elder ended every speech to the Roman Senate with these words. Carthago delenda est. Carthage must be destroyed. And so it was.
By the end of the Third Punic War in 146 BCE, the arguably most successful Mediterranean trading empire in history lay in ruins. Conquest wasn’t enough for Rome when it came to this rivalry. Every remnant of the mighty city-state Carthage had to be destroyed. It is even said that Rome salted the earth so that crops would never again grow outside the former walls of Carthage.
A hundred years later, a new Carthage emerged, this one a Roman city, the capital of the African province, built atop the ground that once held the only real rival that Republican Rome ever had. Surely nothing would remain of the old Carthage, right?
Today, Carthage is an upscale suburb of Tunis, capital of Tunisia. Palatial homes sit on top of Roman ruins, mostly still awaiting uncovering, something that takes time and money the country doesn’t have. And underneath those are a few scant remains of the original Carthage. This was my top priority to visit, and my guide Ahmed Bensaid of Didon Tours takes me to the only two places visitors can actually experience that pre-Roman city.

First, a bit of background. Carthage was established in roughly the ninth century BCE as a trading colony of the Phoenicians, a seafaring people from what is now Lebanon. (Read more about the Phoenicians here, as seen from a visit to Motya in Sicily.) The site was chosen for its strategic location, sitting between the eastern and western Mediterranean. The city grew quickly, made wealthy by trade, and established its own colonies from Sicily and Sardinia to Spain.
With the rise of Rome, it was inevitable that the two mighty Mediterranean powers would come into conflict. This culminated in a series of wars, known as the Punic Wars, during which – despite Rome nearly falling in the Second Punic War courtesy of Hannibal – Carthage was soundly defeated, losing territories and then, in 146 BCE, being razed to the ground.
Carthage’s power came from its navy. (The Carthaginian army was mainly mercenary troops from the Numidian kingdoms of North Africa, ancestors of today’s Berber peoples.) And that navy was centered on a system of two harbors (one commercial and one military) here in Carthage itself. The military harbor was actually located through the commercial, better to surprise the enemy when warships emerged from a place they weren’t expected. That harbor still exists today, and a stop here is mandatory for those seeking to experience the Carthage of old.

The facilities here are build in a circular fashion, and while during Roman times it was a second commercial harbor that was more about design than function, for Carthage it was the ultimate in naval engineering. Each ship (ranging in size and capabilities, with weaponry mainly in the form of rams and catapults) had its own berth with access to the water via a ramp for quick launch. The entire facility was covered for protection from the elements and enemy bombardment, and held dozens of ships at a time.

While the ruins here are mainly from the Roman period, including a temple, one intact boat ramp with the remains of the columns that marked its berth is still in evidence, and dates back to pre-Roman Carthage. It is not lost on me where I am standing. From this exact point, Carthage would have launched its fleets, eager to take on the Roman navy.

Less than a mile away is the Tophet, a Carthaginian cemetery that largely survived in its entirety, though the mass of funerary stelae here have been relocated from below-ground chambers where they were discovered. Part of Roman propaganda said that Carthage participated in child sacrifice due to these sorts of burial markers, many of which depict children being offered to the gods. Modern analysis has determined that the children buried here were those who died at birth, made as offerings so that their mothers would have other living offspring.

Ahmed says that while very few Carthaginian ruins have been excavated, he believes that if one were to dig beneath the Roman ruins lying above, more would be found. But a) that takes time and money, and b) doing so means destroying Roman structures to try to find what is below. So it is a painstakingly slow process, one made harder by the wealthy homeowners of modern Carthage not wanting – understandably – to give up their homes and land for the undertaking.

In the year 49 BCE, Rome apparently decided that enough time had passed. Needing a modern capital for their African province, Carthage was built again, and over the next three hundred years, it would actually become a larger city than its namesake predecessor. Again, remains are probably all over, but mostly still covered, so we journey to the best excavated and preserved site: the Antonine Baths.

This bath complex sits along the sea, and probably used the Mediterranean itself as part of its facilities. It is done in two basically equal sides, one for men and one for women, and while the raised floors that tend to mark Roman baths are no longer present, the overwhelming majority of walls delineating the different bathing areas of varying temperatures are in evidence.

Columns here are not original to the location, although they are Roman, but rather were relocated here to denote the height of the ceiling back when the baths were covered.
Water was delivered by aqueduct, a lower one than many one would see elsewhere in the Roman world due to Carthage’s location just off the coast. And if one follows it just a brief distance away, one can even visit the cisterns that held the city’s water supply. Ahmed of course takes me there.

Africa of Roman times was a wealthy province, supplying the empire with grain, yellow marble, olive oil (Tunisian olive oil still wins awards year after year), and fruit. Cities were found all over what is now Tunisia, with one of the most important arguably being Thysdrus, modern day El Jem. So the following day, again with Ahmed as my guide, I undertake the two hour drive from Tunis to visit this site.
There are several ruins in El Jem, which have yielded a vast trove of Roman mosaics, some of which are here in a small museum, and others at the mighty Bardo in Tunis. A short stop here at that small local museum provides a breathtaking and dizzying twenty minutes of Roman art, and then it is off to the main attraction.

El Jem is best known for its Roman colosseum, thought to have been the third largest in the empire. Built around 238 CE, it is in remarkably good condition. And while the curtain wall isn’t completely intact, enough is to be able to walk about two thirds of the way around, even from atop the third level.

It is smaller than the Colosseum of Rome, of course, with estimates of capacity being around 35,000. But what it might “lack” in size (quotation marks used because it’s still huge, even by modern standards) it more than makes up for in the modern visitor experience, one that begins with the remoteness of El Jem, resulting in my late morning visit having the place almost to myself. There are maybe a hundred other visitors, so it seems rare to have anyone else in my immediate vicinity.

Visitors can not only walk the arena on three different levels and sit on a section of seating, but can also visit the floor where gladiators would have fought, and even stroll beneath it to the cells where men and animals would have been kept prior to appearing above.

The orange-red stone is beautiful, truly setting this place apart from other similar – mainly smaller – arenas of the Roman world.

Back in Tunis, the Bardo Museum is the mandatory climax to my Carthage and El Jem visits. Located in what was once a palace of the Bey, hereditary rulers of Tunisia under the Ottoman sultan, it houses one of the largest collections of Roman artifacts outside of Rome itself. (And the building itself, a portion of which was the palace, is stunning, highlighted by hand carved and painted plaster and wooden ceilings.)

If you thought the collection of mosaics at the small museum in El Jem was impressive, this place will blow your mind. Some, like those in the Marine Mosaic room, are several stories tall! While in various states of completeness, these are easily some of the most incredible Roman mosaics I’ve ever seen, taking up the majority of the second floor of the museum, and even part of the first. (For the best on-site Roman mosaics, travel to Villa Romana del Casale in Sicily. Click here to see.)

Upon arrival, I make a beeline for the Punic Rooms, the collections from ancient Carthage. Not surprisingly, few artifacts from Carthage’s glory days exist, but those that do tell stories of the immense trading networks of the city (as evidenced by pottery from all over the Mediterranean world and even carved ostrich eggs from sub-Saharan Africa) and its people. Highlights are some religious statuary, jewelry, and better preserved funerary stelae than those at the Tophet.

The religious works are especially interesting, since some date to Carthage before the Punic Wars and some to the period following. Thus we learn that Rome allowed Carthaginian deities to continue to be worshipped even after destroying the city, something that we know was a pattern with Roman religion just absorbing other sets of gods from conquered peoples. It is just a bit more surprising here, given the hatred of Carthage.

The collection is vast, and my visit – during which I believe I see every room, even those not of ancient artifacts, as the museum traces the history of the region through the Arab conquest and beyond, although its primary focus is Roman – takes about four hours, not bad for the $5 or so price tag.

My experiences of Carthage and Roman Tunisia are incredible. But even with all I manage to see, I know that it is but a small scratch of the remains of the ancient world here in this wonderful country, to say nothing of the remainder of North Africa. I walk the paths of Hannibal in Carthage, live a Roman life in the Antonine Baths and at El Jem, and marvel at artifacts of antiquity at the Bardo Museum in Tunis. And I can’t wait to see more on my next visit.
Carthago delenda est. Carthage must be destroyed. Well, it still exists – at least in a small way – here in Tunis, and it, along with the rest of the remains of the Roman Empire here, are a mandatory stop to those lucky enough to come to Tunisia.
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Terrific post, as it helped enlighten me about Carthage, and the amazing pieces of its culture left behind for us (you in particular) to offer up for us to enjoy.
Thank you. It was a fun article to write!
Carthage truly is a special place.