Zoroastrijská tradice na Mangyšlaku – podzemní mešita Šakpak-Ata / Zoroastrian tradition at Mangyshlak – underground mosque Shakpak-Ata
Author: Petr Kment
Published: 1 November 2018
The Mangyshlak Peninsula in western Kazakhstan, apart from its remarkable geographical features — including the Karagiye Depression, the lowest point in Central Asia (−132 m) — also possesses an equally distinctive cultural landscape. It is one of the few places where vestiges of the ancient Zoroastrian tradition have survived, albeit transformed by subsequent, predominantly Islamic, influences.
According to local legend, in remote antiquity an ascetic healer known as Shakpak-Ata dwelt in a cave carved into a vast gorge in the northern part of Mangyshlak. Renowned for his miraculous cures, he was said to have possessed the gift of healing any illness. His name, it is believed, was later given to the present Shakpak-Ata cave temple.
For centuries, the caves were inhabited by Zoroastrian fire-keepers who had migrated to Mangyshlak from Persia. Although Islam spread to the region by the tenth century, purification rituals centred upon fire continued to hold significance for many generations. The present sanctuary is strikingly unusual for a mosque, its plan forming the shape of a cross. The symbolism of this form remains open to interpretation: it may reflect early Christian influence, which Sufi mystics often regarded with deep respect; it may represent the four elements—earth, air, fire, and water—embodied in the four orthogonally arranged chambers whose symbols are clearly visible on the walls; or it may derive from an entirely different symbolic system.
Following the Islamisation of the area, a mihrab oriented towards Mecca was carved into the rock, and cells for hermits were added. The present layout of the shrine most likely dates from the fifteenth century.
The central square hall, surmounted by a dome and opening to four directions, creates the illusion that the columns bearing elemental symbols support the vault, although in fact they were hewn directly from the limestone along with the surrounding chambers and thus serve purely decorative purposes.
The artists and stonemasons responsible for the temple faced a demanding task, for it required more excavation than construction. Yet the most remarkable contribution to the site’s beauty belongs to nature itself, whose slow modelling of the valley and the surrounding limestone cliffs produced a landscape of exceptional harmony.
Sufism does not favour lavish ornamentation. The interior of the temple is therefore furnished with deliberate simplicity: felt carpets cover the floor, a few cushions rest against the walls, and a single sacred flame burns steadily.
A flight of steps ascends to the upper terrace overlooking an extensive cemetery where, for centuries, both nomads and settled inhabitants of Mangyshlak have laid their dead to rest.
Along the cliffs runs a narrow path lined with wooden poles to which pilgrims tie strips of cloth — a custom of pre-Islamic origin that endures to this day.
Not far from the sanctuary stands a more recent mosque, beside which lives the shirakshi, the guardian of the sacred fire. In addition to leading prayers with visiting pilgrims, he welcomes them into his home for a shared meal. Pilgrims traditionally bring provisions for the communal table and for the shirakshi’s family. Although the great majority of Kazakh Muslims belong to the Sunni branch of Islam, the influence of Sufism remains tangible — nowhere more so than on the Mangyshlak Peninsula. The Sufis’ openness to other faiths has at times led to their denunciation as heretics by orthodox authorities, both historically and in the present day. As the shirakshi himself remarks: “Indeed, some Muslims call us heretics, but for us what truly matters is not how one prays or what precise acts one performs; it is that God dwells within the heart.”
Remarkably, local Christians also visit the Shakpak-Ata sanctuary: they enter the mosque, tie a ribbon to a post, make the sign of the cross, and join the shirakshi for the communal meal — a quiet testimony to the enduring spirit of interreligious tolerance in this remote corner of Central Asia.
