A Living Memory
These days, it appears as though St Stephen of the Bulgars’ Church has dwindled in terms of its importance after the fall of the Ottomans. Although the site still retains age-value, a factor that Alois Reigi points out is important for us to note in examining lieu de memoires, it has otherwise become only a place for locals to worship.
Furthermore, the site still retains commemorative value as ‘it is still used by [the Bulgarian community], who keep the marble tombs of the first Bulgarian patriarchs permanently decorated with flowers’[1]. This suggests that the lieu de memoire is in fact still alive in the minds of the inhabitants of the area who pay tribute to figures in their religious history. Again, this corroborates a category of Alois Reigi’s views of what could constitute a lieu de memoire, since here we see that the site has been attributed commemorative value, even if this is only amongst the inhabiting population.
In a guidebook of Istanbul, we are told by a visitor that they ‘didn’t see a single tourist’[2] at the Church, which suggests that the Church’s significant history may have vanished with the tide of time. The last line of the excerpt I chose from Nora’s theory seems fitting for this site in particular since, although the Church encompasses a great deal of history, it appears that the memory of what once was is more prominent. Seeing the site as a palimpsest is helpful as we can see the layers that existed beforehand, such as the initial lack of Bulgarian Church under the Phanar, the initial wooden Church, and then the iron framework that now exists. This gives us a sense of Nora’s vision of a lieu de memoire: an evolving site that represents more than what physically existed, but extended to the history and religious events that surrounded the site.