Like the center of a five-pointed star, marked by a fountain and surrounded by storefronts, the Muristan Market in Jerusalem’s Old City draws tourists, garment manufacturers, and serious shoppers alike

The Muristan Market, in Jerusalem’s Old City, recently marked its 123rd birthday. Yet the event passed almost unnoticed, especially since most people have never even heard of the picturesque square, its five alleyways veering off like the points of a star. Granted, in a city three thousand years old, a mere century plus is no big deal. Nevertheless, this time it’s cause for celebration, if only because the Muristan is the most likely place in Jerusalem to find genuine European chic – and the conviction that even the smelly Levant has potential.

Modern for the Old City. The entrance to the Muristan bazaar, built in 1903 | Photo: Tamar Hayardeni

Meet Me at the Market

If you’d told the Old City’s 19th-century residents that a spanking-new market was about to rise from the dustheap in the heart of the Christian Quarter, they would have laughed in your face. The mound marked the center of an empty area as big as three soccer fields, the residue of a severe earthquake and subsequent cleanup. The place was never put to good use, inasmuch as the local council’s approach to adversity was “If it’s in ruins, leave it that way.” Photos from the period show piles of refuse and hovels that served as picnic grounds for the poor and latrines for wandering mules.

Then the tide turned together with the century. The Greek Orthodox Church had bought up all available real estate in the area in the 1800s. Now it turned its gaze to the enormous, undeveloped space in the heart of the Old City’s prime residential district, between Jaffa Gate and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

Between prayers, a monk named Euthymius with time on his hands began reviewing architectural projects and land sales in Jerusalem. He hit on the concept of acquiring the entire vacant site from the Ottoman municipality and adding a covered bazaar. In 1902, after five years of rescue excavations, dirt clearance, and mule expulsions, the city finally boasted a brand-new, European-style market with sculpted doorways and corniced walls. Though not quite avenues, broad alleyways cut through the bazaar, meeting at its center like a Union Jack. An ornate fountain was positioned at this focal point.

Unfortunately, with typical Middle Eastern imprecision, one of the diagonals failed to materialize, leaving all the others struggling to intersect. The fountain proved unreliable as well; according to a few dubious accounts, it gushed for three minutes in the autumn of 1903, then dried up.

Nonetheless, the souk miraculously became a commercial success. To this day, it provides tourists with such classic souvenirs as leather sandals, purses and satchels, fabrics, and incense – plus fake artifacts and Dome of the Rock magnets made in China.

The Dajani family’s trinket shop is particularly popular. Overlooking the silent fountain, this establishment lures customers in with free lemonade and clean bathrooms. And do tuck in at one of the four restaurants all serving the same knafeh (spun pastry dough).