Ancient Settlement of Penjikent

In the suburbs of modern Penjikent, tourists can step into the past and witness a vivid picture of ancient life: a medieval citadel surrounded by residential buildings adorned with wall paintings. Nearby, the remains of a necropolis add to the scene of historical significance. This site, known locally as «Kainar,» takes its name from a nearby water spring.

Archaeological excavations at Penjikent began in 1946, and they revealed a wealth of discoveries. The site uncovered the ruins of an independent citadel that once housed the palace of Divashtich, the last ruler of Penjikent. Alongside it, two large temples, surrounded by extensive courtyards, streets, shops, workshops, markets, and fortifications, emerged from the earth. The multi-roomed, two- and even three-story residential homes, especially the wealthiest ones, were adorned with vibrant wall paintings and wooden statues. These relics offer us a window into the lives of the ancient Sogdians.

What truly stands out about Penjikent is the quality and preservation of its colorful frescoes, despite their 1,300-year-old history. This site has rightly earned the nickname «The Pompeii of the East,» as it contains an extraordinary number of artistic and cultural treasures. In fact, this small settlement may house more artifacts than the rest of Sogdiana combined. The antiquities of Penjikent are now spread across several museums, primarily in Dushanbe and the State Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg.

Like Pompeii or the tomb of Tutankhamun, the significance of Penjikent lies not in its size or wealth but in the extraordinary preservation of its heritage, which fate spared while it ravaged other cities, including the Sogdian capital. Archaeologists have unearthed an encyclopedia of Sogdian life from the ruins, including countless frescoes depicting everything from religious rituals to daily life.

Penjikent was home to two temples, which stood side by side on the city’s main square—one dedicated to Zoroastrianism and the other to a local pagan cult. Sogdiana was not a centralized empire but a loose confederation of principalities, often becoming vassals of stronger powers, such as the Zoroastrian Iran or the pagan nomadic Khaganates. The region enjoyed a relative degree of religious freedom, and Zoroastrianism did not entirely eradicate local beliefs but gradually replaced them. The pagan temple of Penjikent fell out of use about a century before the Arab conquest. When the Caliphate’s warriors, bearing black banners and bent on destroying pre-Islamic heritage, arrived, they found the temple in ruins, its treasures buried in the clay that awaited discovery by archaeologists centuries later.

From this very temple came frescoes in the characteristic red-and-white palette. Both temples’ architecture did not differ significantly from Central Asian mosques: an open iwan adorned with paintings led to two courtyards, each decorated with frescoes. The second courtyard housed the sanctuary, where priests once performed rituals in the open space, with the sun illuminating their ceremonies. One fresco depicts mourners lamenting a deity of dying and resurrecting nature. In the scene, you can see two types of people—fair-skinned Sogdians and dark-skinned Turks. Behind the sanctuary lay a hidden door, leading to the temple’s “holy of holies,” where it was always dark, and a statue of the supreme deity once stood.

The second temple remained in use until the Arab invasion, which explains why almost nothing of it survives today. During this tumultuous period, Penjikent was ruled by Divashtich, who skillfully exploited the natural fortress of the city and the rivalries between the Arab invaders, the nomads, and the Chinese. By the end of his rule, he had become the de facto ruler of Sogdiana, even holding the children of the Samarkand king hostage. However, his luck ran out in 722 when the Arabs captured Penjikent. Divashtich was later taken prisoner in the mountain fortress of Abargar on Mount Mug and executed by crucifixion. In the memory of local people, he remains the last champion of Sogdiana’s independence. Remarkably, Penjikent continued to be a Zoroastrian city for several decades after its fall, with evidence showing that in 750, a wealthy aristocrat or merchant built a large house known for its Blue Hall, or Hall of Rustam, which is now also housed in the Hermitage Museum.

Many of the frescoes, particularly those with a blue background, are linked to the Persian epic Shahnameh and feature its hero, Rustam. The faces depicted in these frescoes are highly expressive, offering a glimpse into the lives of the Sogdians. Due to the absence of taboos against depicting human figures, ancient Sogdiana feels more familiar and comprehensible than the Muslim Middle Ages that followed.

Other frescoes from Penjikent can be found in the Museum of Antiquities in Dushanbe.

Penjikent, a cultural melting pot along the ancient trade routes, was a crossroads of religious and artistic influences, including Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and Hinduism. The art and literature recovered from the site contain a fascinating array of motifs drawn from Greek, Roman, Persian, and Indian traditions. Depictions of narrative cycles from the Mahabharata, Romulus and Remus, and Rustam, as well as scenes from Aesop’s Fables, the Sinbadnameh, and the Pantchatantra, were found on the salvaged temple walls.

The subject matter of the ancient Penjikent artists varied widely. Religious themes, such as celestial bodies (the sun, moon, and other planets), ancestral worship, the water element (symbolized by the Zeravshan River), and Hindu gods like Shiva, featured prominently. Secular paintings depicted battle scenes, feasts, hunting expeditions, sports, music, and dances, as well as the distribution of harvests. Remains of carved wood and clay sculptures were also discovered in the ruins of the temple buildings. The art of ancient Penjikent, influenced by Byzantine, Indian, and Persian traditions, developed its own distinct and original style.

Excavations at Penjikent have been ongoing since 1946, without interruption, even during the civil war of the early 1990s. The work was largely carried out by archaeologists from Leningrad, starting with Alexander Yakubovsky, and later led by Boris Il’ich Marshak, who headed the expedition from 1978 until his death in 2006. In the heart of the settlement stands a small museum chronicling the excavation process, displaying copies of the frescoes. Nearby lies the grave of Boris Marshak, a fitting tribute to the man who dedicated his life to uncovering Penjikent’s hidden past.

Looking at the remnants of the ancient settlement, one cannot help but think that life once thrived here, and people walked these streets, of whom not even their bones likely remain. People with strange names, fair skin, and black hair, dressed in colorful «antique» garments. They were born, grew up, and died; they traded, set off on caravan expeditions and to wars, returning either in silks or clay ossuaries. They prayed to gods, counted their money, and sent letters to distant recipients. And then they vanished into the dust of centuries. How can one not recall the Central Asian belief that the dead turn into clay?

Over 70 years, archaeologists have explored only half of the site, unearthing around 150 buildings. The clay of Penjikent still holds many untold stories of the vanished world of Sogdiana, waiting to be revealed.