Mystery of the Issyk Golden Prince in Kazakhstan | Secret of the Steppes Episode 1

In the harsh steppes of ancient Kazakhstan, a young prince was once laid to rest. His body, adorned with nearly 4,000 gold ornaments, would lie undisturbed for over 2,000 years. This lavish burial, containing more gold than all other Scythian burials combined, was sealed away in a burial mound called a kulgan. When finally unearthed in 1969, this opulent tomb challenged everything we knew about early steppe cultures. But who was this golden man and, more importantly, what secrets did he take to his grave? This documentary presents historical events based on extensive research and available evidence. While Khan's Den always strives for accuracy, interpretations of history may vary. The Usyk Kulgan, located in southeastern Kazakhstan, dates back to the 4th or 3rd century BC. This period marked the transition between the Sakha culture, a branch of the Scythian world, and the rise of early Turkic peoples in Central Asia in the form of many tribes that constituted the Xiongnu Empire. The Sakha were renowned horsemen and skilled metalworkers, leaving behind intricate golden artifacts that have captivated archaeologists and historians for generations. Their influence stretched across the Eurasian steppes, from the Black Sea even to the borders of China. However, large parts of their history remain difficult to grab, as they barely left any other actual evidence and context behind. The many Kulgans that can be attributed to the Sakha, thankfully, make the exception. And out of all Kulgans, this might be the most significant. The discovery of the Usyk golden man provided unprecedented insight into Sakha craftsmanship, burial practices, and even social hierarchy. The extravagance of the burial suggests that the individual displayed here must have held a position of great importance, possibly a young ruler. Maybe he or she was a spiritual leader, though I suppose that a princely position seems more likely. But the true identity and role of the golden man remain shrouded in mystery, fueling decades of scholarly debate and capturing the imagination of historians worldwide. That being said, the Usyk Kulgan holds much more than just golden treasures. When Soviet archaeologists opened the burial chamber in 1969, they were first met with a sight that defied their expectations. At the center of the chamber lay a skeleton, estimated to be that of an 18-year-old individual surrounded by an astonishing array of artifacts. The body was clothed in garments decorated with thousands of gold plagues, creating a shimmering suit of golden armor. A tall, pointed headdress adorned with golden figurines and precious stones crowned the figure, lending an air of regal authority. But it was not just the opulence that raised questions. The identity, gender, and role of this young person remain hotly debated. Was this truly a prince or perhaps a princess? We cannot say for sure. The androgynous nature of some of the grave goods has led to intense speculation about the societal structures of the Sarka in general. Adding to that enigma, a silver bowl found near the body bore an inscription in a mysterious script. 26 characters that have not yet been definitively deciphered. Could this be an early form of Turkic writing predating known examples by centuries? Or is it evidence of a lost language of the steppes? A study from 2023 suggests that the Scythian alphabet used here could be the link to connect the ancient Sarka language with Bactrian and Sogdian, which were intensely in use in Western and Southern Central Asia until up to the Turkic migrations during the Middle Ages. Conversely, some Turkic scholars posit that the script is actually a form of Proto-Turkic and contend that it was inscribed in an early version of the Göktürk-Orhon script, which most certainly was in use across Central Asia during the Göktürk empires. In his book, History of the Old Turkic Script, the Kazakh Turkologist Altay Amancolov notes that the Issyk script was transliterated in 1971 using the Orhon script as guidance and provides a translation and transliteration. The Scythian text, therefore, would say the following. Aga, sana boğacak, yabancı diz çök, halkta azık bol olsun. Lord, this hearth for you. Stranger, kneel. May the people have plenty of food. However, by making use of Hotanese, a language dialect used in the Tarim Basin and known as the actual Sarka language, the Hungarian linguist, Hanos Halmata, came to a different conclusion. Zamri kolam, mim vam. Vamva pazampana, dey kamim ritonyaka. Mi pazam vamva, vazam na vam. This container contains grape wine, cooked food, and fresh butter. So much so, mortal. Whatever the case may be for the script, the remaining content of the grave obviously also allows for discussion. The gleaming golden armor, for example, also raises perplexing questions. Was it truly meant for battle or did it serve a more arcane purpose? Some whisper of shamanic rituals of leaders who walked between worlds. The armor's intricate designs depict fantastic beasts and mythical scenes, but are they mere decoration or do they hold a deeper, forgotten meaning? The conical headdress, crowned with enigmatic golden beasts, bears an uncanny resemblance to figures on distant, old Iranic reliefs. Could this be evidence that this part of the Scythians did indeed belong to the inter-Iranic cultural sphere as is so often proposed in history books? Perhaps it is merely a sign of shared mythological language that spanned the ancient world and included the northern steppe zone, too. Curiously, among the weapons and regalia, archaeologists discovered a humble wooden comb and a bronze mirror. These seemingly mundane objects in such an opulent burial add another layer to the mystery. What was the point exactly? Were they cherished possessions of the deceased, perhaps serving as magical talismans or as symbols of a dual role that bridged the mundane and the divine? But the greatest mystery lies, of course, in the identity of the golden man himself or perhaps herself. Initial examinations suggested a male of about 18 years old, but subsequent analysis have cast doubt on both the age and gender. Weapons of war lie beside delicate mirrors, blurring the lines of gender and challenging our assumptions. Was this a warrior queen, breaking the mold of traditional power structures? What about a priest-king with dominion over both blade and spirit? Now, we must not forget that during this time period, during the Iron Age, across the steppe, the mighty Cyrus the Great, founder of the Persian Achaemenid Empire, was slain by Tomiris or Tomris, the queen of the Masagate. Her people, in turn, were precisely the Eastern Sakha nomads that this Kurgan has been linked to. If Tomris was so mighty and influential that even the faraway historian Peridot reported about her in ancient Greece, the possibility of even more female rulers among the Scythians is certainly not out of the question. As we delve deeper, more questions emerge. The artistry of the burial goods shows influences from cultures thousands of miles apart. Was the Ussuk Kurgan the final resting place of an important diplomat, a linchpin in a vast network of alliances and trade, perhaps? Or do these eclectic styles point to a more complex narrative of cultural exchange and conquest? The placement of the burial itself is also interesting. Why was this particular location chosen? In the beginning of the video, we mentioned its position in southwestern Kazakhstan, but more precisely, the Kurgan is located near the eponymous Lake Ussuk in Kyrgyzstan. The lake is, in turn, part of the so-called Tianxian Mountains, which are also known as Tengri Tak, the Mountains of God, and hold a special place in the ancient Tengri religion. According to Tengri's tradition, it is this place where shamans from across the steppe gather once a year, climb to the peak of Khan Tengri, and communicate with Tengri himself, the celestial prime deity of this belief system. While evidence of Tengrism during the pre-Xiongnu-Scythian period is very sparse, perhaps the Eastern Scythian and Sakha people at least held this place in high regard in a similar religious sense and chose it as the place to bury their young ruler purposely. The echoes of the Ussuk discovery reverberate through time, casting long shadows over our understanding of the past and present. In Kazakhstan, the Golden Man has become more than just an archaeological find. It is a symbol shrouded in modern myth. Its image adorns everything from coins to monuments, but what truths lie behind this golden facade? As a nation builds its identity on this enigmatic figure, one must wonder what aspects of history are being illuminated and what remains conveniently obscure. The gender ambiguity of the Golden Man poses uncomfortable questions for societies grappling with their own concepts of gender and power. If our assumptions about the past are built on shifting sense, what other truths might crumble under scrutiny? Perhaps the most tantalizing implications lie in the realm of linguistics. The undeciphered script on the silver bowl is a siren song to scholars promising to rewrite the history of written language in Central Asia. What other hidden scripts might be waiting to be discovered and what secrets might they tell? As modern development enroaches on ancient lands, one can't help but wonder how many more golden men or women lie waiting beneath the steps. The Ussuk Golden Man reminds us that history is not a settled account, but a constantly shifting landscape of mysteries where each answered question only leads us deeper into the unknown. As the sun sets over the Kazakh steppes, the Golden Man's secret remains tantalizingly out of reach. Each answer we uncover only deepens the mystery. Perhaps the key to understanding the Ussuk burial lies not in the golden armor or the undeciphered script, but in the broader context of steppe power dynamics. As we peel back the layers of history, we find whispers of other mysterious rulers whose stories have also been lost in time. And one such figure emerged a bit later, far to the east, a leader whose rise to power was as meteoric as it was shrouded in intrigue. The Turks know him as Metehan and the Chinese called him Modu Chanyu, but his original name was Bagatur, hero, and his disappearance would shake the foundations of the steppes. But that is a mystery for another time.