Mystery of Armenia’s “Dragon Stones” Discovered: An Ancestral Water Cult in the Highlands

A team of Armenian and European researchers has carried out the first comprehensive statistical analysis of the vishaps, enigmatic prehistoric stelae known as “dragon stones” that rise in the highlands of Armenia. The results, published in the journal Npj Heritage Science, reveal that their construction was an intentional and colossal effort, and that they were deeply linked to an ancient water cult.

The vishaps (Armenian term for “dragon”) are prehistoric stone monuments carved with images of animals. They are found in the high mountain pastures of present-day Armenia and adjacent regions, at altitudes ranging from 1,000 to 3,000 meters above sea level. Carved from local stone, mainly andesite and basalt, these stelae are classified into three main types:

Piscis: Fish-shaped.

Vellus: Shaped like a stretched or hanging bovine hide.

Hybrid: A combination of the iconographies of the two previous types.

With heights ranging from 1.1 to 5.5 meters, most lie today toppled or placed horizontally, but the fact that all of them are carved and polished on all sides except for the “tail” strongly indicates that they were originally erected vertically.

A century-old archaeological puzzle

Scientific interest in the vishaps arose in the early 20th century. The scholar Ash-Kharbek Kalantar pioneered their study in an archaeological context and linked them with other megalithic phenomena. He was the one who launched a crucial hypothesis: that the vishaps marked critical points in prehistoric irrigation systems.

However, the systematic study of these monuments was limited for decades. It was not until 2012 that a collaborative project between the Institute of Archaeology and Ethnography of the National Academy of Sciences of Armenia, the Free University of Berlin, and Ca’ Foscari University of Venice resumed the research with modern methods. The objective: to unravel the function and socioeconomic background of the vishap phenomenon through landscape surveys and stratigraphic excavations.

A key site in this research has been Tirinkatar (also known as Karmir Sar), on the slopes of Mount Aragats, where an exceptional concentration of 12 of these stelae was discovered.

One of the greatest challenges has been determining when these stones were erected. The history of their dating has gone through several stages. For a time, they were considered an “archaic” phenomenon. A crucial finding was the Garni 1 stele, which bears a secondary Urartian cuneiform inscription of King Argishti I (8th century BC), which placed the vishaps, at least in their reuse, in the second millennium BC.

But the definitive breakthrough came with the excavations at Tirinkatar. Radiocarbon dating of 46 organic samples recovered in stratified contexts allowed, in two specific cases, the erection of two vishaps to be dated around 4200–4000 BC, that is, in the Chalcolithic or Copper Age.

This suggests that the vishaps are a product of this period, later reused and reinterpreted in various ways in later times. The Tirinkatar site has thus been shaped as a sacred cultural landscape with an extraordinary concentration of these monuments since at least the late fifth millennium BC.

The analysis: size, altitude, and a tremendous labor effort

The new study focuses on the statistical analysis of two physical characteristics of 115 vishaps documented in Armenia: their size and the altitude at which they are found.

The researchers started from a logical premise: the amount of work required to create a vishap—from quarrying the stone, carving and polishing it, to transporting it—is proportional to its size. Larger stones equate much greater human effort. At the same time, altitude drastically conditions the time available for work. Above 2,000 meters, the snow-free activity window is considerably reduced, making any construction project much more difficult.

However, the results contradicted this expectation. The analysis showed no correlation between the size of the vishaps and altitude. There is no trend indicating a decrease in the number of large vishaps as elevation increases. In fact, some of the largest and heaviest examples (such as Karakap 3, weighing 4.3 tons) are found above 2,800 meters.

This suggests that the builders intentionally dedicated their limited periods of activity in the higher areas to the construction and transport of large monuments that required much manpower, the study notes, despite the added logistical difficulties, such as providing food and fuel for the workers.

Another crucial finding was the altitude distribution of the vishaps. Far from being evenly spread, they show two very marked peaks or modes: one around 1,900 meters and another, even more prominent, around 2,700 meters above sea level.

This bimodal distribution suggests a deliberate and structured placement pattern, linked to specific cultural motivations and not to chance or simple resource availability. These two altitudes represent two very different environmental realities in terms of snow levels and periods of human activity.

The water cult in the summits

All these clues—the association with water, the fish shapes, the location at extreme altitudes despite the cost—point to the same conclusion: the vishaps were cult monuments dedicated to water.

The natural motivation for placing the vishaps at higher altitudes may be related to the cult of water as a life-sustaining force in the valleys located below, the authors conclude. The motivation was cultic. Positioning these monuments near the summits, the main snow reservoirs, had a profound symbolic and practical meaning. The water melting from these summits is what sustains life in the valleys, especially during the hot and dry summer months.

Kalantar’s hypothesis about their connection to prehistoric irrigation systems makes full sense here. The vishaps would not only be near water, but would mark and sacralize the very origin of that vital resource.

The double concentration of stelae at 1,900 and 2,700 meters could be related to patterns of seasonal migration or ritual pilgrimages to these sources of life in the heights. Areas such as Mount Aragats and the Geghama Mountains, rich in water and archaeological monuments, contrast with others such as Mount Ararat, with porous soils and scarce water sources, where cultural remains are much rarer.

The study culminates with a reflection: Human history shows that cults are often associated with significant efforts by their societies.

The analysis of Armenia’s dragon stones goes beyond archaeology to delve into the psychology and organization of the first complex societies. It reveals that, more than 6,000 years ago, the communities of the Armenian highlands were willing to invest an enormous amount of energy and resources in an apparently non-utilitarian project.

But it was not arbitrary: it was an investment in their worldview, in the sacralization of the element that guaranteed their survival—water. The location, size, and shape of the vishaps are not accidental; they are the petrified proof of a deeply rooted belief that mobilized an entire community toward the summits, defying the logic of minimal effort, to erect eternal witnesses of their faith in the sources of life.