The Cave of King David

In the vicinity of Samarkand, many people believe in a legend that recounts how the biblical King David, after many glorious years of reign over Israel, received a divine command from the Almighty to journey eastward and preach the belief in the One God among the pagans. The tale goes that King David, also known as Hazrat Dawud, was the first to establish monotheism in Samarkand. This proclamation incited the wrath of the local fire-worshippers, who conspired to kill him. In a desperate bid for survival, David fled to the mountains. However, his pursuers were relentless. In a moment of peril, he miraculously parted the rock with his hands and concealed himself in a deep cave.

Hazrat Dawud possessed a magical gift—he had the ability to melt metal and stones in his palms. For this remarkable talent, the craftsmen of Samarkand and Bukhara regard him as the patron saint of blacksmiths. The cave associated with his name continues to attract hundreds of pilgrims who undertake challenging ascents to reach the plateau’s summit.

Forty kilometers south of Samarkand, at the turnoff to the city of Karshi, lies the small village of Aksai. Rising in the barren steppe is a monumental arch adorned with Arabic calligraphy, guiding modern pilgrims in the right direction. A little further ahead stands a barrier that restricts access to the steep serpentine road winding up the mountainside. It was from this very spot that a bus once plunged into the abyss, leading to the regulation that only passenger cars may navigate this treacherous path. Since the restriction was enforced, taxi drivers and minibus operators transporting pilgrims from Bukhara, Samarkand, and Shahri Sabz have found their work easier. They now jokingly claim that they, too, consider David their patron.

From the base of the western spur of the Zeravshan Range, a rocky wedge thrusting into the arid Karshi steppe, a concrete staircase of 1,303 steps leads to the plateau’s summit. At least, that is the number counted by the locals. The mystical significance of this number remains unexplained, yet its accuracy is adamantly upheld. In reality, counting the steps is nearly impossible; one is bound to lose track before even completing half the arduous journey. Even for a fit person, this ascent takes about an hour. Standing at the starting point, one cannot see the end, which is lost behind endless turns.

Enterprising locals offer sick and elderly individuals the chance to pay a small fee to ascend on horseback or on the backs of donkeys. However, few pilgrims accept this offer—not out of frugality, as one might assume. According to tradition, such a mode of transport would greatly diminish the merit of those seeking grace through King David. Elderly women, leaning on wooden staffs, struggle up the seemingly infinite staircase, while the locals dart up and down, offering tourists their souvenirs on the go. Numerous platforms at the bends have been transformed into bustling marketplaces with awnings, where one can purchase miraculous amulets, live snakes, dried lizards, wolf and fox pelts, medicinal herbs, tinctures, and ointments, or quench their thirst with green tea or mineral water.

Interestingly, the staircase from the village of Aksai to the plateau’s summit is not an ancient structure. It is made from modern cement blocks. In hushed tones, locals will reveal that its construction began in the late 1980s under the guidance of a director from one of Samarkand’s industrial enterprises. Later, he was convicted for some criminal offense, but after serving his sentence and being released, he resumed these noble works in the mid-1990s alongside fellow enthusiasts.

For those who reach the plateau’s summit, a breathtaking panorama of the sprawling steppe unfolds. Here, at the very top, a small mosque has been built where pilgrims pray before visiting David’s cave. To reach the cave itself, one must descend another 200 steps—this time down a different slope.