Kharga Oasis is far more than a stop in the Western Desert. It is a historical crossroads where the Persian-era Temple of Hibis, ancient irrigation systems, caravan tracks, Roman settlements and Christian cemeteries record changing ways of living beyond the Nile Valley. The Temple of Amun at Hibis was built and decorated mainly in the reign of Darius I, yet archaeologists still debate some proposed Saite beginnings. Desert roads connected Egypt with Sudan and neighboring oases, while late Roman forts and the cemetery of al-Bagawat reveal centuries of later life.
This original, source-led encyclopedia uses the Metropolitan Museum’s excavation history, academic studies from Cambridge and Oxford, and UNESCO’s tentative-list documentation. Four genuine separately identified photographs show Hibis itself, a roof relief, the distinct sanctuary of Qasr el-Ghueita and the Christian necropolis of al-Bagawat. None is presented as a reconstruction of ancient daily life.
Kharga was a crossroads, not a deserted outpost
The archaeological landscape of Kharga in Egypt’s Western Desert demonstrates that an oasis can be remote from the Nile yet deeply involved in the country’s history. Travelers, soldiers, farmers, religious communities and officials crossed and occupied the depression for thousands of years. The best-known stone monument is the Temple of Amun at Hibis, built and decorated mainly under Persian imperial rule, while the routes through the oasis connected Egypt to Sudan and other desert settlements. Later, Roman-period forts, irrigated farms and the Christian cemetery at al-Bagawat transformed parts of the region. These episodes are related but not simultaneous. A single photo montage of temple columns and Christian tombs can hide centuries of difference. The Metropolitan Museum’s Kharga excavations, Cambridge field research and UNESCO’s tentative listing all allow a much more precise picture. This article reconstructs the oasis as a changing settlement and transit network rather than treating a temple as an isolated backdrop. The landscape’s historical importance lies in movement and water as much as in the famous royal names carved in its walls.
Geography: Kharga, Dakhla and the Great Oasis
Kharga lies in a major depression southwest of the Nile Valley. The Metropolitan Museum’s summary places it about 150 miles west of Thebes, and groups it with Dakhla as a large oasis region historically called the Great Oasis. Different ancient and modern labels referred to the oases in ways not identical to today’s governorate boundaries. Water and topography shaped possible routes, settlement clusters and agricultural areas, but human movement did not follow one fixed road through the centuries. Surveyors have documented paths, cairns and ceramic scatters between Kharga and Dakhla, while other routes reached the Nile Valley to the east and more distant areas to the south. An oasis is not a constantly green island unchanged over millennia. Cultivation, water availability, wells and climate have varied. Understanding that variability is essential when interpreting ancient field systems or a ruined fortified settlement. The photographs in this article show specific modern survivals, not every historical landscape phase. A traveller standing near Hibis today sees a location that has changed through irrigation management, settlement growth, excavation and conservation.
Prehistory and the limits of the surviving record
Excavations and surveys establish a human presence in Kharga and nearby desert landscapes well before Egypt’s earliest dynasties. The Metropolitan Museum summarizes evidence of occupation reaching at least the Middle Paleolithic in this wider oasis landscape. This does not mean the standing Hibis Temple dates to prehistory, nor that a present-day irrigated field recreates ancient conditions. Different kinds of evidence survive in different environments: stone tools may endure where houses, textiles and organic food waste have disappeared. Researchers interpret past environmental conditions through geological traces, artifacts and settlement contexts. Broad statements such as “Kharga has been permanently populated for 300,000 years” go beyond the evidence, because the presence of very early material does not establish uninterrupted settlement. Oases could expand or contract in importance as water and wider political networks changed. Some desert pathways linked regions in prehistoric phases, but archaeological documentation must support the dating of any specific route segment. The deeper chronology is important because it reveals how long humans have negotiated the balance between water access and distance in the Western Desert.
The ancient city of Hibis and the town of the plough
Hibis became a central settlement and religious center in the northern Kharga Oasis. Encyclopaedia Iranica notes that the ancient name has been interpreted as the “town of the plough,” a suggestive association in a region where cultivable land was exceptionally valuable. A name alone does not reveal annual crop yields or prove that every resident was a farmer. The Temple of Amun stood north of the modern town, within a larger setting of habitation, canals and associated archaeological remains. Met fieldwork at Ain et-Turba documented a neighboring settlement that continued into the third and fourth centuries CE, showing that the religious and urban landscape changed long after the Persian building phases. The temple is best understood as one part of a community with economic and ritual functions, not a lone structure built for desert travelers. Local agricultural systems had to be supported through labor, maintenance and water management. Archaeological finds such as ceramics, coins and buildings can illuminate occupation phases, but different excavation areas may preserve different portions of the city’s life. Readers should avoid confusing the name of the oasis capital with the wider depression in which many smaller sites existed.
Darius I and an Egyptian temple under Persian rule
The Temple of Hibis is most strongly associated with Darius I, who ruled the Achaemenid Persian Empire and Egypt in the late sixth and early fifth centuries BCE. The Met says it was built mainly under Darius after about 500 BCE; UCL likewise attributes significant Egyptian projects to his reign. The monument belongs to a distinct episode in which a Persian king acted through the established visual language of Egyptian kingship. Royal cartouches, offering scenes and depictions of Egyptian gods were carved on its walls. This should not be simplified into a claim that the temple was built entirely by Persian artisans using non-Egyptian religious imagery. Conversely, the presence of Egyptian iconography does not erase the fact that the king held imperial authority. The temple illustrates how state legitimacy and local cult could interact across political boundaries. It also connects to Achaemenid administrative investment in parts of the Western Desert. The exact distribution of responsibility among court, local priests, builders and contractors is not fully recovered from the surviving inscriptions. A ruler’s name is evidence of patronage, not a complete payroll for the worksite.
The Saite construction debate: Psamtik II or Darius?
The start of Hibis construction is an active question in archaeological scholarship rather than a fact that every secondary summary describes identically. An Oxford Handbook chapter says construction began in the Saite period, probably under Psamtik II, with later work by Darius and Egyptian rulers. Encyclopaedia Iranica explains why the evidence is disputed: a Horus name associated with Psamtik II occurs on the monument, but there are reasons it may have been used by Darius or in a different building phase. Specialists also note the absence of straightforward recutting of Darius’s cartouches over earlier royal names. It is therefore risky to publish either “Psamtik II built all of Hibis” or “Darius laid the very first stone” as unquestionable fact. The safer statement is that the temple’s main surviving decorated program is strongly linked to Darius I, with proposed Saite beginnings and documented later enlargement and modification. Other named rulers include Nectanebo I and II and subsequent Ptolemaic patrons in various scholarly accounts. This complexity is not weakness. It lets readers understand how archaeologists date architecture using inscriptions, stratigraphy and comparative evidence.
The temple plan: gateway, courts, columns and sanctuary
Hibis developed around a sequence of spaces including courts, hypostyle halls, inner rooms and a sanctuary, with additional chapels in an upper level. Encyclopaedia Iranica describes the plan and later additions such as a more extensive hypostyle area, portico, enclosure and pylons. A visitor approaching the temple today can see how the route from open outer space to increasingly enclosed rooms structured an encounter with the divine. But no single surviving façade photograph can date the entire architectural sequence. Construction and decoration took place across phases, and later restorations affected the modern appearance. The stonework and reliefs represent Egyptian temple design adapted to an oasis location and a changing group of royal patrons. The ritual use of inner rooms differed from the practical passage of visitors through the site today. Architectural descriptions help keep the temple’s components distinct: a roof chapel is not an open forecourt, and a sanctuary wall should not be confused with a freestanding Roman fort. Understanding the plan also offers a basis for interpreting why particular gods and offerings appear in different parts of the building.
Amun, Mut and Khonsu: Thebes in the Western Desert
The principal temple cult centered on Amun, closely associated with the Theban religious world, and included relationships with Mut and Khonsu. That emphasis helps explain connections between Kharga and the Nile Valley near ancient Thebes. Yet the monument contained a far broader range of divine imagery than the Theban triad alone. Encyclopaedia Iranica reports a remarkable collection of divine representations in the sanctuary, interpreted by scholars as a form of cult-topographical mapping of Egypt’s religious landscape. Some accounts mention about 700 gods or divine manifestations represented there. That is a count in published scholarship, not a claim that the temple had 700 separate fully organized cult priesthoods. Egyptian gods could have many local forms and epithets. The king’s offerings communicated maintenance of sacred order within an Egyptian worldview, even under foreign imperial rule. Looking at the religious program helps prevent an oversimplified political reading of the monument as a foreign occupation trophy. Temple theology remained recognizably Egyptian while wider governance and infrastructure were being negotiated in the oasis.
The famous relief of Seth fighting a serpent
Among the frequently discussed sculptural scenes at Hibis is a depiction of the god Seth in a falcon-headed form striking a serpent, often interpreted in a protective and solar theological setting. A genuine photographic record of the temple’s imagery is more useful than a fantasy rendering of a desert battle. Seth’s role in Egyptian religion was complex and changed over time; he could appear as a dangerous opponent in one narrative and as a powerful protector in another. It would be misleading to call every depiction a direct illustration of the same myth or to declare that the temple proves a single fixed moral opposition between “good” and “evil.” Identifying a particular serpent and the ritual meaning depends on inscriptional context and careful specialist readings. The relief’s survival also illustrates how image and architecture worked together. It was not an isolated picture hung in a museum for general viewing, but part of a decorated building with specific religious spaces. This is why our image caption points to the real relief and temple area, with the modern photographer and exposure date, rather than treating the source photograph as a scene from the Persian king’s reign.
What the ancient priests and workers may have done
A functioning Egyptian temple required specialist activity involving priests, ritual equipment, food offerings, maintenance and the management of a built precinct. Agriculture in an oasis would have been crucial to provisioning such institutions, although the precise landholdings of the Hibis temple cannot be invented from its preserved decoration alone. Stoneworkers and scribes contributed to the fabric and inscriptions, and different phases of work likely involved different crews. Archaeological pottery and small finds provide evidence for surrounding economic life. An Egyptian king offering to Amun on a relief demonstrates a ritual ideal rather than proof that Darius personally stood before the sanctuary performing the depicted gesture. Daily life at a temple is reconstructed from texts, comparative material and excavated traces, not simply from the largest figures carved on the walls. This approach gives people who rarely appear in royal inscriptions a role in the story. The temple existed because inhabitants of the oasis and wider state networks maintained the conditions needed for sustained religious use. A spectacular preserved pylon is therefore the visible part of a much larger social system.
Ancient qanats and the technology of survival
The Western Desert posed fundamental problems of water supply. Scholars document subterranean water-management systems in Kharga commonly called qanats, which could bring groundwater through gently graded underground channels. Encyclopaedia Iranica describes Persian-period temple sites and related irrigation remains, while the Oxford Handbook discusses the possibility of connections between this technology and people or ideas arriving from Iranian regions. A qanat is not simply any hole in the ground, and a channel’s date and origin need archaeological investigation. The existence of underground systems does not establish that one particular Persian engineer invented irrigation in Egypt or that every kharga field was watered in exactly the same way. Wells, canals and other practices contributed to oasis settlement across different periods. Water channels required surveying, excavation and maintenance, and their performance depended on geology and available groundwater. Their importance to society was direct: without reliable water supply, permanent cultivation and large settlements would be much harder to sustain. Studying these systems alongside temples turns an apparently remote political monument into evidence for broader investment in local infrastructure.
Darb al-Arba’in and the long-distance caravan geography
Kharga lay on a major north–south desert route traditionally called Darb al-Arba’in, which connected areas toward Sudan and the Nile Valley. Cambridge research on late Roman Kharga describes how the route could cut across the desert from Wadi Halfa toward Middle Egypt, avoiding a large eastward bend in the Nile’s course. Another network of paths connected Kharga westward with Dakhla and eastward with the valley. The fact that the name means “Forty Road” in common translation should not be turned into a claim that every caravan always spent exactly forty days between fixed stations. Distance, equipment, political safety and water access changed. Camel transport was important in later phases, but one cannot assume that every prehistoric or pharaonic traveler used the same animals or followed identical tracks. Ceramics, cairns, rock inscriptions and settlements help archaeologists identify routes more securely than legends about anonymous treasure caravans. The road was an organized geographical opportunity precisely because its hazards made stopping points and water supplies strategic. That history connects the oasis to Nubia and parts of inner Africa, not simply to isolated Egyptian tourist maps.
Darb Ain Amur: roads revealed by cairns and pottery
Archaeologists have surveyed routes between Kharga and Dakhla, including Darb Ain Amur and Darb al-Ghubari. A chapter by Salima Ikram in Cambridge’s The Great Oasis of Egypt uses rock art, ceramic fragments, inscribed surfaces, cairns and tracks to reconstruct how these paths changed from pharaonic through Roman times. Each type of trace has limits. A pile of stones may mark a stopping point, a route junction or a later intervention; a surface sherd provides a clue but not automatically a precise year of travel. Together, patterns of finds can show how travelers approached difficult desert terrain and where they had access to water. A survey of the route is not equivalent to finding a complete preserved caravan with named merchants. Nor does a line drawn on a map prove that the road remained equally busy in every dynasty. The archaeological contribution is to replace a generic “ancient caravan road” with a set of documented places and evidence. This also suggests why travelers and state officials valued the northern part of Kharga, where several pathways intersected.
Fortified landscapes of Roman and late Roman Kharga
Roman-period settlements and forts added another layer to the oasis. Cambridge research by Corinna Rossi and others examines sites such as Umm al-Dabadib, Ayn al-Labakha and the Gib/Sumayra complex, considering their strategic positions near water supplies and routes. The study argues that settlement planning could improve control of approaches through the depression. Yet the precise role of each building must be assessed from its architecture, dating and artifacts. A walled compound is not necessarily a purely military fortress, since it may also protect goods, housing or water installations. Researchers examine relationships between forts, farms, villages, aqueducts and routes instead of treating surviving walls as isolated citadels. Some settlements had sophisticated irrigation schemes and planned layouts that reveal economic as well as security concerns. They also demonstrate that the oasis was important during Roman rule, far later than the construction of the main Hibis temple. Calling every fortified archaeological ruin in Kharga “Persian” would therefore misdate a substantial part of its historical landscape.
Qasr al-Ghueita: another temple, another site
Qasr el-Ghueita lies south of Hibis and preserves its own temple enclosure and architectural history. Encyclopaedia Iranica describes a sandstone sanctuary with evidence of Darius I, later additions and a surrounding mudbrick fortification generally thought to belong to a subsequent period. Oxford scholarship points to possible earlier phases and Ptolemaic interventions, while cautioning that aspects of the fortification’s date remain uncertain. The temple was not a branch entrance to the Hibis sanctuary, even though both stood within the broader Kharga oasis network. A separate photograph in this article shows the actual Qasr el-Ghueita stonework, labeled by the source photographer Roland Unger. Such specificity matters for an encyclopedia: moving a photograph between monuments because both happen to have columns would erase archaeological differences. Comparing the two sites shows how the oasis supported multiple centers of religious patronage and how foreign royal names could be adopted within local Egyptian religious expression. Chronology and function need to be established individually rather than assumed from distance alone.
Al-Bagawat and the Christian communities of Late Antiquity
The cemetery at al-Bagawat is a remarkable Christian funerary landscape containing hundreds of mudbrick burial chapels, some covered with domes and vaults. The Metropolitan Museum describes an extensive necropolis in use across Late Antiquity, with a long phase of burial activity from the Roman into Byzantine centuries. It reports 263 chapel structures in its research summary, alongside simpler pit burials and other graves. Some chapels preserved decorative architectural patterns and painting, although much painted material has been damaged or lost. The cemetery is evidence for a vibrant Christian community in the oasis, not proof that every inhabitant adopted the same religion in the same year. Tomb types, burial goods and inscriptions can reveal a society where older Egyptian and newer Christian practices overlapped. The actual Bagawat photograph included here is of historic Christian chapel architecture, not a photo of the earlier Persian temple. Its inclusion illustrates historical change on a regional scale rather than implying one continuous architectural style. For comparison with another Christian site of a different era and setting, see Kemet Vault’s Red Monastery of Sohag study. Both enrich Egypt’s Christian history while requiring separate dates and locations.
Ain et-Turba and the people of third- and fourth-century Hibis
The Met’s excavation records identify Ain et-Turba as part of the ancient city of Hibis, with structures dated in part by coin finds to the third and fourth centuries CE. Archaeologists excavated houses, pottery and other objects that speak to ordinary settlement as distinct from the monumental temple’s ritual imagery. An object found in a late Roman house does not necessarily come from the Persian building phase, even if the structures occupy the same wider district. Material culture from this period reveals connections to the Nile, Mediterranean markets and local craft traditions. The interpretation of rooms depends on preserved fixtures, refuse deposits and associated finds. A large house is not necessarily a palace, and a wall with religious imagery does not prove every nearby family held the same beliefs. The Met’s subsequent exhibitions highlighted multiple communities and the transition from Roman to Byzantine history, demonstrating how much the oasis changed over centuries. These small finds are a crucial corrective to an account focused entirely on famous kings and inscriptions.
The Met’s excavations and the limits of early twentieth-century records
The Egyptian government granted the Metropolitan Museum permission to survey and excavate parts of northern Kharga beginning in 1907, with campaigns continuing into the early 1930s. Herbert Winlock directed important early work, and the 1941 publication of Hibis’s architecture and inscriptions became a major source. The period’s archaeology was significant but shaped by contemporary methods, collection policies and recording practices. A modern scholar may be able to re-examine objects collected decades ago, but cannot always recover every discarded context. A 2020 Metropolitan Museum Journal paper reassessed Ptolemaic ceramics from Hibis, demonstrating that older museum collections can yield new information when studied with current methods. This is a useful reminder that an excavation report is not the last word on a site. Chronologies may change as inscriptions are reread, pottery classifications improve or scientific techniques develop. It is also important to distinguish an expedition’s legal excavation permit from the ethics and completeness of the modern collecting record. The strength of a museum-grade encyclopedia lies in citing original documentation while acknowledging why later specialists sometimes revise it.
How oasis life connected different religious traditions
Kharga’s archaeological history includes Egyptian cult temples, imperial-era fortifications, residential quarters and Christian funerary sites. These different types of evidence reflect a sequence of social and religious transformations rather than a single event where one tradition disappeared overnight. The Met notes the presence of Christian communities in late antiquity and cases where older Egyptian funerary objects continued in use among people practicing Christianity. That material overlap challenges simplistic stories in which every social habit changed immediately with a new religious identification. Religious architecture and burial practices can have their own local chronology even when political governments changed elsewhere. Historians ask whether a particular temple was converted for Christian use, what building modifications support that claim, and how a later church related to the surrounding settlement. Broad provincial statements should not be imported into the history of a specific room without excavation evidence. By studying Hibis and Bagawat separately, researchers can trace continuity and difference within the same landscape. The oasis preserves an unusually long record of these transitions, making it valuable beyond the obvious appeal of a desert temple.
Conservation, groundwater and threats to surviving sites
The Global Egyptian Museum notes threats at Hibis involving a rising groundwater table, while official and research accounts describe the difficulties of conserving archaeological structures in an oasis environment. Water sustained historical settlement, but changes in water levels and salinity can also threaten sandstone, brick and wall surfaces. Historic buildings built above or near ancient hydraulic systems may experience moisture, salt crystallization and structural instability under changed environmental conditions. The particular causes at any location require engineering and conservation surveys rather than speculation from a photograph. A restored stone façade may look secure while subsurface conditions continue to demand management. Increased visitor activity can create further pressure if access, touching and drainage are poorly controlled. A serious heritage article should not promise that conservation is finished or that the monument is free of risk because it has been reopened. Preserving a regional landscape is also different from protecting a single temple: roads, cemeteries and settlements need documentation and management across the depression. Such work is central to the site’s future as both historical evidence and a living regional resource.
Kharga on UNESCO’s tentative list: what that status means
Egypt submitted “Kharga Oasis and the Small Southern Oases” to UNESCO’s World Heritage Tentative List on 3 September 2015, under reference number 6067. The submission treats the region as a landscape of archaeological and natural significance, stressing the long history of cross-desert connections. A tentative listing is a preliminary national proposal, not a completed inscription on the World Heritage List. The distinction matters for historical websites, tourist claims and local heritage advocacy. An entry’s presence in UNESCO’s database shows that the state has identified a potential property for possible nomination; it does not mean the World Heritage Committee has formally inscribed the landscape. The nomination also involves a much wider geographical and environmental context than the Temple of Hibis alone. UNESCO’s published coordinates and criteria refer to the larger proposed property, including other southern oases. Describing the submission accurately strengthens a case for research and preservation without misrepresenting legal or administrative status. It also reminds readers that the landscape contains history from multiple eras, not just a single famous temple built for a Persian king.
How to connect Kharga to the wider history of Egypt
The oasis is most meaningful when placed alongside the Nile’s state-building and later imperial systems. Darius’s Hibis reliefs show a Persian ruler adopting Egyptian ritual representations; later irrigation, routes and forts illustrate regional administration; Christian chapels document social change in Late Antiquity. Each connects with a larger chapter of Egyptian history, but Kharga’s archaeology supplies distinctive local evidence. Kemet Vault’s history of Roman Egypt under Augustus gives context to imperial institutions that preceded later Kharga settlements. The Dendera Temple of Hathor encyclopedia provides another example of long-lived temple religion under Ptolemaic and Roman patrons. The two sanctuaries were different in age and local cult, so the comparison should not turn into generic writing about identical Egyptian temples. The wider network also reached Nubia, whose modern heritage challenges are discussed in the Nubian rescue campaign study. Historical geography is strongest when it shows how different places intersect without erasing their differences.
What scholars still debate about Hibis and its desert world
Several issues require care. The earliest construction date of Hibis remains debated, with Psamtik II and Darius I receiving different emphases in major academic accounts. Interpretations of water systems must separate securely excavated channels from general claims about Persian technology. The purpose and date of particular fortified Kharga settlements also depend on ongoing fieldwork. Even the chronology of desert trade can shift as surveys identify new pottery sequences and rock inscriptions. A single photograph of sandstone columns cannot answer those questions, but archaeologists can compare inscriptions, building phases and stratified finds to narrow them. Scholarship also asks how much authority came from imperial institutions and how much depended on local families, priests and farmers. These questions are difficult because surviving elite monuments tend to advertise the legitimacy of rulers more clearly than they preserve the personal names of agricultural workers. New research may refine that picture, but uncertainty should be labeled now rather than treated as an error to hide. Archaeological honesty makes the oasis’s history more compelling, not less.
Chronology of the oasis, carefully separated by evidence
| Period | Evidence | Interpretive caution |
|---|---|---|
| Middle Paleolithic and later | Stone tools and wider archaeological survey | Early presence does not prove uninterrupted settlement |
| Late sixth–fifth century BCE | Darius I’s named work and decoration at Hibis | Saite construction beginnings remain debated |
| Fourth century BCE and later | Temple additions by later Egyptian rulers and Ptolemaic activities | Architectural phases require independent dating |
| Roman and Late Roman era | Roads, aqueducts, forts and towns | Different settlements were not used identically |
| Second through seventh centuries CE | Christian Bagawat cemetery and communities | Religious change was not instantaneous |
| 1907–1930s | Metropolitan Museum excavations and survey | Early excavations may have incomplete context |
| 2015 | UNESCO tentative list submission, ref. 6067 | Not a fully inscribed World Heritage property |
Evidence, references and authentic photographic sources
Metropolitan Museum Objects from the Kharga Oasis; Metropolitan Museum excavations, Hibis and late antique communities; UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List Kharga and Small Southern Oases; Encyclopaedia Iranica scholarly overview of Kharga Oasis; Oxford Handbook Social Impact of Trade and Migration Western Desert; Cambridge Journal of Roman Archaeology late Roman Kharga settlements; Cambridge The Great Oasis of Egypt Ikram road surveys; UCL Digital Egypt Darius historical building record; Metropolitan Museum Journal: Ptolemaic Pottery from Hibis 2020. Image licensing and identification appear below each photo. Source review: October 25, 2026. No ancient date or event is inferred merely from the year an image was photographed; the four figures show their individually identified sites and structures.
Frequently asked questions about Kharga and Hibis
Was Hibis Temple built by Darius I or Psamtik II?
Major surviving decorated phases are securely linked to Darius I. Scholars differ over whether some initial construction occurred earlier under Psamtik II; neither position should be presented without qualification.
What was Darb al-Arba’in?
A long-distance desert caravan network linking routes toward Sudan and the Nile Valley, with Kharga an important intersection. The Arabic name does not prove every journey took exactly forty days.
Is al-Bagawat a Persian temple?
No. It is a primarily Late Antique Christian necropolis with distinctive mudbrick funerary chapels.
Is Kharga Oasis on the UNESCO World Heritage List?
The wider Kharga and southern oases proposal has been on Egypt’s Tentative List since 2015. That preliminary status is not formal inscription on the World Heritage List.
