Zoroastrian Burial Practices and The Problem of History

We are clearly fascinated by the death rituals of ancient cultures. A quick Google search reveals thousands of articles about Buddhist mummies, Aztec sacrifices, Egyptian embalming techniques, and much more. Perhaps these stories harkens back to a time where our relationship with death was supposedly more fluid and open? Let’s assume that none of us would like to see a return of blood sacrifices, but maybe what we see in the past is a commitment to ritual and the care of the dead that still resonates with us today.

Many communities have tried to confront death through elaborate stories and myths pertaining to an afterlife. Peter Berger writes that:

Death presents society with a formidable problem not only because of its obvious threat to the continuity of human relationships, but because it threatens the basic assumptions of order on which society rests. (Berger 1990, 23)

Death practices involved the care of bodies postmortem, including the ritualized positions, cleaning and dressing of bodies as well as burial with material goods. Dating back more than 100,000 years, ritualized burial may have been a way for humans to ease anxieties after death. Grave goods, for example, have been argued to correspond with the belief that the deceased continue to live in a separate realm. These anxieties also include the fear that improper ritual will lead to consequences for the deceased person in the afterlife. Perhaps the highly ritualized nature of body disposal through burial or exposure reinforces our connection to the deceased through belief in something larger than ourselves. Meanwhile, creating immortality for the deceased reinforces the social and symbolic relationships that we have with the dead and our communities. The anxieties over bodies and the afterlife may have provided meaning for many communities and were inexorably connected to everyday life.

However, the problem with studying the past is that life-worlds are hard to piece together. We are stuck with archaeological information, and texts. These texts were mostly written by men or people in power. As we’ll discuss shortly, burial was so problematic for the Zoroastrian community, according to religious texts, that interment could result in punishment – although evidence of punishment is non-existent. Yet, there is archaeological evidence for burial in Zoroastrian communities, as well as irrefutable evidence of burial of Zoroastrian Sogdians in China. If the practice of burial was prohibited in Sogdia, what explains the fundamental shift within Chinese Sogdian communities?

Intercultural exchange, contested spaces of religious orthodoxy and non-Zoroastrian possibilities in Sogdia may explain these discrepancies. These answers complicate conventional reconstructions that have tended to make broad generalizations about the status of Zoroastrianism during the Sasanian era, and to the adherence of religious laws by the community at large.

Zoroastrian Beliefs

Zoroastrian beliefs in the afterlife speak to these ritualized anxieties and continued possibilities in death. Intricate and esoteric, Zoroastrian beliefs reflect larger cosmological themes within the religion. Zoroastrianism, founded by the prophet Zarathustra between 1700 BC and 1500 BC, was (is) a monotheistic and dualistic religion whose doctrines have come down to us in the form of the Gathas (hymns) and Avesta (liturgical) texts. Ahura Mazda, the one true God, upheld all that was good in the world and His adversary Angra Mainyu, was set apart for his cruelty and wickedness. These primal spirit twins, according to Zoroaster, were diametrically opposed, life and non-life. As it was created by Mazda, all of creation was inherently good and in battle against evil. Zoroastrians created complex belief systems to deal with death that reflected Zoroaster’s quest for worldly justice. After death, souls would be judged and either brought to hell for their sins or allowed to move into paradise. Since all creation was inherently good, so was the physical body which would be reunited with the soul in paradise and then brought back to life in the final, earthly resurrection.

This dualistic cosmology was also reflected in Zoroastrian funerary services. Body disposal techniques had to contend with the dualism of sacred and profane realities. The Vendidad book, a collection of laws of moral codes, detailed the best practices for the care of the dead. Death being in opposition to life meant that dead bodies were treated as polluting and polluted. The earth was sacred as it was one of Ahura Mazda’s creations and as such, no inhumation of whole bodies was allowed. To that end, bodies were considered so polluted that the land in which a body was buried was impure for fifty years. Bodies were kept on flat rocks to avoid having them touch the ground and if a body were to touch the earth, that spot would remain impure for several days. The highly ritualized nature of body disposal was essential for the individual to advance towards paradise.

Chinese funerary beds with Zoroastrian designs.

Sogdian Funerary Practices

After an individual died in Sogdia, the Vendidad prescribed that the corpse be washed and dressed in white clothing. The body was then placed on a stone slab in the centre of their home. This area was then considered unclean for several days. A dog with two spots above its eyes was then brought to the corpse as the dog would refuse to look at the deceased if any life remained. The corpse was covered to leave only the face exposed, and it was then removed from the home on a sunny day. The corpse was stripped of all its clothing and placed onto a high rock. After the vultures and dogs finished cleaning off the bones, the remains were collected and placed into a deep pit or ossuary and covered over. Archaeologist Mary Boyce wrote that archaeological evidence has been found from the Seleucid period of large decorated Niches where bones were kept, providing a space for visitation and prayer (Boyce 2001, 91).

Funerary practices associated with exposure were so commonplace in Sogdia by the 6th and 7th centuries CE that professional services were offered to deal with the dead. Chinese testimony from the 6th century describes Sogdian body disposal customs, claiming that there were over 200 families who:

“bâtissent des pavillons dans lesquelles ils nourrissent des chiens. Quand un homme meurt, ils vont chercher son cadavre, le déposant dans un de ces pavillons et le font dévorer par leurs chiens; lorsqu’il n’y a plus de chair ils recueillent les os et les enterrent, mais sans les mettre dans une bière.” (Shaked 2005, 41)

That dogs were used to clean the flesh of cadavers, a ritual which influenced the practices of 7th and 8th century Chinese Buddhist monks, has also been shown in archaeological evidence by Frantz Grenet (Grenet 1984 228). 

Historical Context

Well into the fifth century, material goods, cultures and religious ideas were spreading from China to the Middle East, west to Byzantium and passing directly through the Persian territory of Sogdia. During this period, the Sasanian Persian Empire institutionalized Zoroastrianism as the State’s official religion with archaeological, textual and historical evidence attesting to Zoroastrian influence in this time. This influence was especially evident in the funerary practices of Sogdians who followed the strict religious prohibitions against inhumation. Why then, in a time when the Sasanians institutionalized Zoroastrianism, with burial considered a punishable offence, is there archaeological evidence in China of first generation Sogdians practicing burial?

Crossing the Chinvat bridge. Shi and Kang – two Zoroastrians living in China – are visible on the left hand side.

In 2003, several burial tombs were discovered that originated from sixth century Tang China. One tomb in Chang’an (now Xi’an) contained the interred remains of Shi Jun and his wife Lady Kang who both died in the year 579 CE (Grenet 2004, 274). Shi Jun, whose Central Asian name was Wirkak, originated from Samarkand; Shi and Kang were Chinese names indicating their Central Asian heritage. Shi was a member of the Sogdian aristocracy who was promoted to sabao by the Tang dynasty and both were first generation Sogdians who chose to be interred in China together, a practice antithetical to Zoroastrian burial laws. Their burial tomb was encased in cement several feet underground, their bodies placed on Chinese funerary beds and their surrounding sarcophagi covered in extensive reliefs. While their burial and ritualized positions atop funerary beds speak to elaborate Chinese customs, their sarcophagi reflect Zoroastrian religious concerns. Two gods trampling a demon flank the doors to the sarcophagi. The figure of a priest-bird, a common motif of Chinese Sogdian burials, reflects Buddhist influence as early as the fifth century with the figure wearing a Sasanian royal crown. Another side of the sarcophagi depicts a fire altar attended by Zoroastrian priests, two dogs visiting a corpse, and the crossing of the Chinvat Bridge into the afterlife (Figure 1). These scenes are on the southern and eastern sides of the sarcophagi, facing the direction of paradise (Grenet 2004, 276).

Chinese and Persian religious practices were particularly syncretic in this period. Sinologist Ogawa Yoichi analyzed letters from the Dunhuang manuscripts and noted many similarities between Zoroastrian and Chinese festivals, including shared statues of deities within their respective religious institutions (Takeshi 2015, 50). One noticeable difference were the practices of body disposal. Judith A. Lerner argues that the acceptance of Chinese burial customs by Zoroastrian Sogdians meant an acceptance of Chinese cosmology to a certain degree. Yet ossuary sized burial chambers as well as clay pots suggest that many Sogdians in China did expose their dead before collecting their bones for interment (Lerner 2005, 9). Complicating matters is Lerner’s assertion that there is not enough evidence to concretely say that Sogdians in Sogdia or China ever practiced exposure. Yet Greek and Chinese sources along with evidence that eighth century Zoroastrians built enclosed structures to expose their dead attest to a different reality (de Jong 1998, 443). Regardless, artistic, funerary and textual evidence strongly suggest that Sogdians in China went against orthodox burial proscriptions while simultaneously retaining important Zoroastrian religious artifacts.

The Problem of History

The victors may not have solely written history, but texts that have come down to us were typically written by societal elites. Priestly texts from many communities reflect the concerns of  men who could read and write. These elites were writing laws and edicts and acting as authoritative intercessors to the illiterate masses. An oral tradition for most of its history, Zoroastrian priests began writing and collecting their traditions and setting them to text with Sasanian support. Zoroastrian institutionalization and textuality paralleled the institutionalization of Sasanian rule in the fourth century (Garthwaite 2005, 93). The scholarly standard of looking to the texts to understand historical communities has become problematic for two reasons. First, historical accounts of communities by those outside that community have often been coloured by prejudice or misunderstanding. For example, the Greek writer Herodotus is a main source for early Achaemenid scholars, yet little corresponding evidence supports his claims (Boyce 2004, 76). Second, religious sources are simultaneously circumspect as they are staking particular authoritative claims. There is often little evidence to back claims that the general population followed laws set down in religious texts (Cohn 2006, 141).

Sogdians, depicted on a Chinese Sogdian sarcophagus of the Northern Qi Dynasty (550–577 AD)

During the Sasanian era when Zoroastrianism was institutionalized, the temple and the priestly class were handed considerable power within the empire. Not only did the priestly class interpret religious law, they were given the authority to administer it. Mary Boyce writes that by the end of Sasanian Empire, Persia was “priest ridden”, with the laity probably forced to pay for religious services, rites and observances (Boyce 2004, 144). Yet none of this suggests that the community at large ever followed Zoroastrian laws and ritual practices in any strict sense. Shaul Shaked argues, “it may be bad method to try and harmonize the archaeological and historical data with the legal proscriptions” (Shaked 2005, 48). This is to say nothing of the fact that the Avesta texts that scholars often use as reference were only written during this institutionalized period.

While Sasanian kings were institutionalizing Zoroastrianism and giving the priestly class state powers, they themselves were making provisions for burial (de Jong 2015, 86). Sassanian kings were also persecuting minority communities by disinterring their dead, yet Sogdians in small numbers appear to have been openly buried during this period. Frantz Grenet, Boris Marshak and Valentina Raspopova have uncovered tombs that appear Sogdian in nature, though it has been suggested that they may be from Jewish or Christian communities (de Jong 2015, 86). What is clear however is that these tombs contained full skeletal remains (suggesting lack of exposure) which do not correspond to what would typically be found in a Zoroastrian ossuary.

When Persians moved from Sogdia to China, they quickly adopted foreign customs. Sogdia existed on the geographical fringes of the Persian territory, making it less susceptible to Sasanian and priestly influence (Foltz 1998, 194). While the Zoroastrian temple still controlled many aspects of life in Sogdian Chang’an colonies, evidence of religious, artistic and cultural fusion complicate this. Burial preparations for upper class Sogdians in China would have been a rather public affair, with the hiring of artists, stone masons, the securing of burial space and the construction of the tomb. If the Tang three-tiered system for Sogdian communities, which was centered around the temple, had ultimate say in religious matters, would they have acquiesced to the practice of burial? Truthfully, this is a problematic question as little is known about the temple’s role in day to day life for Chinese Sogdians.

Rather, free from the possibility of punishment and strict religious control, Sogdian Chinese communities were able to dispose of their corpses in a manner more amenable to their new community. The artistic expressions found on burial sarcophagi spoke to the need for Zoroastrian religious expression but incorporated within a form of disposal in line with the customs of their new community. To that end, exposure in the Vendidad texts required commitment, ritual animals and space that could have been easier expressed in artistic form rather than literal practice. When religion is mediated and transmitted through a dominant class, the power imbalance should give scholars pause. Likewise, this imbalance explains inconsistencies in Zoroastrian burial not as anomalies or incomplete data sets, but as real possibilities free from strict orthodox proscriptions.

When a community is viewed through its religious texts alone, it becomes easy to make broad generalizations. Yet the Sogdian reality appears far removed from Zoroastrian and Sasanian authority. Mary Boyce for example, reduced Sogdian life to what she thought was its composite parts and in the process did away with other possibilities. When Boyce was presented with archaeological data of Persian burial, she did not question the tenuous influence of Zoroastrianism but instead attributed the burials to smaller Iranian cults (Shaked 2005, 42). Shi Jun and Lady Kang’s burial tomb speak to the tenuous grasp of Zoroastrianism on Sogdians in the Sasanian period. Jenny Rose suggests that seen as a whole, the artistic, religious expressions on Shi and Kang’s tomb represents their spiritual journey from Zoroastrianism to their later syncretic beliefs (Rose 2010, 10). Zoroastrianism may remain the dominate feature on the stone work, but elements of Hinduism, local Sogdian deities and Buddhism reveal a religious reality which cannot support the binary and strict Zoroastrianism that some scholars have argued for.

When communities moved to other geographical areas, both communities often appropriated customs from each other. Yet, this answer simplifies an interesting phenomenon, especially given the meaning of burial to Zoroastrian practitioners. The cultural and social context of fifth to seventh century Persia and China was ripe for intercultural exchange. Ideas, religious doctrines and cultural norms were all transmitted through the process of commerce, trade and translation. Principles and practices were equally up for trade in the global marketplace of ideas and even the strictly devout were likely not free from local influences. These influences highlight the conflicted space of religious orthodoxy, a conflict reified by essentializing scholarship.

Lastly, while many scholars have conflated Zoroastrianism’s role in Persia, recent scholarship has problematized the religious nature of Sogdia. Historical accounts of religion and ideas along the Silk Road have often been filtered through a binary lens where one community is associated to one religion only. But this codification flattens the dynamic and complex reality of religious life. Sogdia may have been one of the most pluralistic territories along the Silk Road as they incorporated local religion and cult deities to a degree that calling their religious beliefs simply Zoroastrian is a simplification. When the fear of punishment is removed, perhaps burial becomes an alluring option.