The Extraordinary Journeys of Johann Ludwig Burckhardt – from Basel to Petra, Abu Simbel and Mecca - five online talks by John Darlington

From a privileged childhood on Lake Geneva to restless student days in Leipzig and Cambridge, Burckhardt was inspired by stories of discovery and adventure. His family’s fortunes had already been overturned by the French invasion of Switzerland in 1798, which swept away their authority and forced his father into exile. That political upheaval bred in Burckhardt both a hatred of the French and an admiration for Britain and Prussia. Backed by Sir Joseph Banks and the African Association, he was commissioned to seek the source of the Niger, a mystery river that obsessed European geographers. His departure in 1809 took him into a world unsettled by Napoleonic wars and colonial rivalries, pausing in Malta. Here he first adopted the robes of a Muslim merchant, a disguise that would shape his future.

Burckhardt’s apprenticeship in the Levant began in Aleppo, a cosmopolitan Ottoman city alive with merchants, Janissaries and intrigue. He spent two years mastering Arabic and Islamic custom, making forays to Palmyra, Baalbek and Damascus. His progress unfolded against the backdrop of Ottoman decline and Wahhabi expansion, which had disrupted the Hadj caravans for years. He learned how to navigate the suspicion of Bedouin tribes, the avarice of provincial governors and the rivalries of European consuls. Lady Hester Stanhope passed through these same lands, her flamboyant presence a foil to Burckhardt’s deliberate anonymity. By 1812, the shy Swiss had become Sheikh Ibrahim – convincing enough to pass, yet never entirely safe.

In August 1812 Burckhardt persuaded a reluctant guide to lead him through the Siq, where he became the first European since antiquity to set eyes on Petra’s rose-red Treasury. The vision was fleeting, but it established his reputation. Weeks later he arrived in Cairo, capital of Mohammed Ali Pasha. The ambitious Ottoman governor was in the process of reshaping Egypt into a modern state through brutal reforms. Cairo was also a cockpit of rivalry, where British and French consuls, scholars and antiquarians vied for influence and artefacts. Burckhardt manoeuvred carefully between these factions, maintaining his Muslim persona while quietly sending detailed reports back to London.

Heading south, down the Nile, Burckhardt was moved by the great temples at Luxor, where he recognised the monumental statues of Rameses the Great, or Ozymandias as he knew him: ‘King of Kings am I, Ozymandias, If anyone would know how great I am and where I lie let him surpass one of my works,’ read a poignant inscription. In a second courtyard lying in the sand flanking the entrance to the inner temple, was the fallen head of the same Pharoah, a slight smile playing on his lips. Pressing on into Nubia and Sudan, Burckhardt joined camel caravans, passed through slave markets, and repeatedly fended off accusations of espionage. In March 1813 he encountered Rameses once again, this time at Abu Simbel: colossal rock-cut temples, half-buried in desert sand and unseen by Europeans for centuries.

Burckhardt’s last expeditions took him on pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, journeys that demanded complete immersion in the rituals of Islam. His detailed accounts of the holy cities – their mosques, markets and multitudes of pilgrims – remain among the most vivid ever written by a European. Yet these were dangerous times: the Wahhabi movement challenged Ottoman authority, Mohammed Ali Pasha extended his power through conquest, and pilgrims were pawns in wider struggles for dominance. Returning through Sinai and back to Cairo, Burckhardt continued to live as Sheikh Ibrahim until his death from dysentery in 1817, aged just 32. Buried in the City of the Dead, he left journals that reshaped Europe’s view of the Arab world, even as his own name faded from memory.