History of Vardzia

Three hundred kilometers from Tbilisi, nestled within the Samtskhe-Javakheti region on the left bank of the Kura River, lies one of Georgia’s most extraordinary monuments—a cave city-fortress and monastery known as Vardzia. It was carved into the very heart of the Erusheti Mountain nearly nine centuries ago. Seen from afar, Vardzia evokes a fantastical vision—like a colossal anthill shaped by giant, industrious ants. And yet, this marvel is not the work of mythic creatures but the result of human ingenuity, etched into stone during the golden age of Georgia.

The monastery’s history dates back to the 12th century, during the reign of King George III of Georgia. Seeking a formidable stronghold to defend his kingdom’s southern borders from Persia and Turkey, the king searched long and hard for a suitable site. At last, providence led him to Mount Erusheti—also known as Bear Mountain. Its sheer cliff face, overlooking the valley of the Kura, was composed of soft volcanic tuff, an ideal material for excavation. With royal decree, the mountain was soon humming with activity as artisans began carving into the rock with ambition fit for kings.

What emerged was staggering in scale: more than 600 interconnected chambers—sleeping quarters, storerooms, water reservoirs, dining halls, baths, and libraries—were hewn into the cliffside. These rooms were linked by a labyrinth of tunnels and galleries, with only three concealed entrances to the outside world. Vardzia could shelter up to 20,000 people, well-prepared to withstand lengthy sieges beneath the mountain’s protection.

To comprehend the grandeur of the king’s vision, imagine a multi-story building stretching for a kilometer within the mountain’s depths. The chambers rose up to 19 levels and extended up to 50 meters deep into the rock. But King George III knew that physical defenses alone would not suffice. In his fight against foreign invaders, he also sought divine favor. And so, within this subterranean bastion, he commissioned not only a fortress but also a hidden monastery.

After his death, the monumental task passed to his daughter—Queen Tamar, the wise and legendary ruler whom her father had named co-regent during his lifetime. According to legend, it was Queen Tamar herself who gave the complex its name. As a child, she once played hide-and-seek with her uncle amidst the unfinished caves. When he lost sight of her and began calling out in panic, Tamar cried back from the shadows, “Ak var, dzia!”—“I’m here, uncle!” Her voice echoed through the stone corridors and reached the ears of King George. Taking it as a divine omen, he declared the city be named Vardzia.

While George III had envisioned a military bastion, Queen Tamar transformed the project into a spiritual sanctuary. In her reign, she continued the mission of her great-grandfather, King David IV the Builder, not only defending Georgia’s independence but also strengthening Christianity. She oversaw the construction of churches and monasteries, supported the clergy, and ensured the flourishing of spiritual life. Under her guidance, Vardzia evolved from a fortress into a sacred monastic city.

At the spiritual and architectural heart of Vardzia stood the Church of the Dormition of the Holy Virgin. From this central sanctuary, chambers, galleries, and storerooms branched out through the mountain. Today, only the outer arches of the narthex are visible; the church itself is concealed deep within the rock.

The church features a large central hall with a rounded eastern apse. Beneath the altar lies a hidden passageway, leading to a chamber once used for storing sacred vestments and liturgical objects. The church’s greatest treasures are its frescoes, remarkably well-preserved despite the passage of nine centuries. The apse displays the Virgin Mary flanked by archangels, and beneath them, twelve high priests bearing scrolls. The ceiling of the subterranean sanctuary is adorned with biblical scenes: the Annunciation, Nativity, Presentation at the Temple, Baptism, Transfiguration, Raising of Lazarus, Ascension, Pentecost, and the Dormition of the Virgin. One fresco even depicts King George III and Queen Tamar, immortalized in sacred paint.

The Church of the Dormition was consecrated on August 15, 1185. It once housed the revered icon of the Vardzia Virgin—famed throughout Georgia. On the eve of the historic Battle of Basian, Queen Tamar prayed before this very icon, imploring divine aid for her people. Removing her crown and jewels, she descended barefoot into the Kura Valley to bless her soldiers. Georgian chronicles recall: “Tamar herself, barefoot and in tears, gave her blessing to the warriors…” And indeed, through the Virgin’s intercession, the Georgian army triumphed over Sultan Rukn ad-Din’s force of 400,000 Seljuks.

To fully grasp the scale of this sacred citadel, consider what it once contained. Carved into Bear Mountain were 120 monk cells, 420 auxiliary chambers, 25 wine cellars storing 185 clay jugs of wine. The complex included 15 churches, dining halls, bathhouses, treasuries, libraries, “tone” (Georgian bakeries), grape presses (satsnakheli), and metal workshops.

Vardzia’s water supply was a masterpiece of ancient engineering. Through clay pipes laid in a specially carved tunnel, the monastery received up to 170,000 liters of water daily. Near the Church of the Dormition flows a spring, delivering an additional 56 liters each day. Locals call it “Tamar’s Tears”—its rivulets run down the stone like tears on a maiden’s face. In the monastery’s western section lies a massive reservoir, capable of holding 700,000 liters. All of this was conceived and built nearly 900 years ago.

And yet, what remains visible today is but a third of the original structure. In 1283, sixty years after Queen Tamar’s death, a devastating earthquake struck the Samtskhe-Javakheti region just before Easter. A massive 15-meter-thick slab broke away from Bear Mountain and crashed into the Kura River. Along with it, the front section of the cave city—its chambers, staircases, galleries, and corridors—collapsed.

The once-hidden monastery complex lay exposed, stripped of its greatest defense—its invisibility to the enemy’s eye.

Efforts to restore Vardzia began in the subsequent decades, during the so-called fourth period (1285–1306). Under the command of Samtskhe’s ruler, Beka Jaqeli, a bell tower and entrance arches leading to the main church were added.

Dark days befell the Vardzia Monastery in the mid-16th century. Time and again, the forces of the Persian Shah Tahmasp surged into Georgia like relentless waves crashing upon a battered shore. Georgian King Luarsab I the Great fought valiantly for every inch of his homeland, yet resisting the might of the Persian horde proved a near-impossible feat.

In 1551, Shah Tahmasp descended upon Vardzia, plundering the ancient monastery. The Persian historian and chronicler Hasan Beg Rumlu, who described Vardzia as “an unprecedented marvel, as unassailable as the Wall of Alexander the Great,” recorded the grim episode in vivid detail. “The Shah – refuge of the faithful – entered the church with his mighty amirs and slew twenty monks within its walls. The bell, weighing seventy mans and forged seven times over, was shattered like the vessel of their lives. Iron and golden doors were torn from their hinges and handed over to the grateful treasury… The fortress was leveled to the ground.”

As if that desecration weren’t enough, the Ottoman Turks completed the devastation in 1578. The once-hidden monastery, now exposed to the enemy’s gaze, fell with ease. The Turks set fire to the main church, burning the monks alive, then destroyed the monastery’s books and looted all valuables they could find. For over two centuries, Vardzia lay in ruin, abandoned and silent. Only shepherds and their flocks would ascend Mount Erusheti, seeking shelter in the deserted caves of what had once been a magnificent underground city.

By 1798, Georgia stood on the brink of collapse. King George XII, fearing that the endless feuds among Georgian nobles would soon leave the kingdom vulnerable to Persian conquest, appealed to Russian Emperor Paul I for protection. On December 22, 1800, Paul I signed the Manifesto of Georgia’s annexation into the Russian Empire. In 1828, Russian troops expelled the Turks from Javakheti.

With this liberation, a glimmer of hope returned to Vardzia. Orthodox monks began to come back. In 1854, a Greek named Hadji George Popondopulo, having escaped from Ottoman captivity, was granted permission by the Exarch of Georgia to restore the monastery. Using his own funds, he cleared out grottoes and connecting galleries, and installed a new iconostasis in the main temple. In 1857, the Exarch Isidore consecrated the renewed sanctuary, and once more, Vardzia came alive as a place of monastic devotion.

But this revival lasted only sixty years. When the Bolsheviks seized power in Russia, they unleashed a systematic campaign against Christianity in Georgia, echoing the earlier brutality of the Ottomans. Religious services were banned, priests were arrested, and in 1938, Vardzia was officially converted into a tourist museum.

It was not until the fall of the Soviet regime that Vardzia glimpsed the promise of rebirth. In 1989, with the blessing of the Patriarch-Catholicos of Georgia, Ilia II, the sound of liturgy and sacred hymns once again echoed within the cave temple by the banks of the Kura River, in honor of the miraculous icon of the Mother of God of Vardzia. There is hope that the monastery may yet reclaim its former glory. But the path to full restoration is long, and the tasks ahead are many and arduous.

Let us pray that the necessary strength and means will be found. Today, four devoted monks live and serve in the monastery of Vardzia. May the Lord grant them endurance and grace in their labors and prayers.