Amid Armenia’s many wonders, one mountain site in the Syunik Province stands apart—mysterious and alluring, bearing the evocative name of Karahunj. The name itself carries a curious resonance, echoing the globally renowned Stonehenge. And the similarities between the two are more than phonetic. Like its famous British counterpart, Karahunj is a prehistoric complex of towering megaliths, whose cryptic purpose remains unsolved to this day.
This ancient monument is composed of several hundred upright, unhewn stones, each just slightly taller than an average person. Experts date its origins to the third millennium BCE, making it one of the most ancient and enigmatic landmarks in the region.
In the beginning, this place was known as Goshun Dash, which in Turkic means “Army Stones.” Eventually, the name evolved into the Armenian “Zorats Karer”—the “Stones of Power” or “Stone Army.” Though the language changed, the meaning remained nearly identical, preserving the idea of strength, gathering, and presence.
Over time, the name Karahunj took root, derived from a nearby village. With this new name came new interpretations. While “kar” still means “stone” in Armenian, the suffix “hunj” is interpreted as “sound” or “voice.” Hence, “Karahunj” became known as the “Speaking Stones.” Another name, “Karenish,” translates more simply to “Stone Sign.”
Systematic exploration of Karahunj began in earnest in the early 1980s. Over the following three decades, it drew repeated visits from scholars and research expeditions. Some teams unearthed compelling discoveries; others left with more questions than answers. Each investigation began the same way: by attempting to count the stones. Sprawled across a site roughly the size of 14 football fields, the megaliths stretch from south to north—posing a formidable challenge to mapping and cataloging.
The andesite stones of Karahunj, draped in moss and lichen, create an uncanny impression. Ranging from 1.5 to 3 meters in height and weighing up to 10 tons, the stones taper slightly at the top, resembling obelisks. In ancient Egypt, such forms symbolized the sun, and could be shaped using the simplest of tools. These elongated, crudely hewn stones from the Neolithic era are known as menhirs—literally “long stones”—with a height that far surpasses their width. In essence, a menhir is nothing less than a Stone Age obelisk.
According to one theory, some of these solitary stones may mark the burial sites of fallen warriors. For a time, the entire complex was considered a memorial cemetery dating back to antiquity.
Gradually, researchers noticed that the layout of the stones was not random. There was meaning in their arrangement. Rows of megaliths converged in certain places, forming avenues that led to a central point and encircled a stone-built elevation—a kind of mound that resembled a tumulus. Tumuli, in many ancient cultures, were associated with burial grounds. Yet this one didn’t quite fit the mold.
From a certain angle, the seemingly haphazard pile of slabs atop the mound took on a remarkable shape: a flower opening in the light of the sun.
What captured the imagination of researchers and laypeople alike, however, were the curious holes—perfectly round openings pierced through some of the stones. These “one-eyed” megaliths sparked a flurry of debate in academic circles. What were these holes for, and who made them?
One prevailing theory posits that these openings were carved by ancient hands to thread ropes through, possibly making it easier for animals or humans to haul the massive stones into place. It’s an unusual but plausible explanation.
Yet the story of Karahunj is not finished. The site continues to invite wonder, to raise questions, and to echo with ancient voices carried on the wind. Whether a celestial observatory, a sacred necropolis, or something else entirely, Karahunj remains one of Armenia’s most haunting and poetic enigmas—its speaking stones forever whispering across the millennia.
