Latest / Great Zimbabwe: The Lost African Kingdom of Stone — Fexingo History / Great Zimbabwe's Soapstone Birds: Symbolism and Mystery
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about the walls, the gold, the kings, but there's one iconic artifact from Great Zimbabwe that we haven't really dug into yet: the soapstone birds. Luna: Oh right, those carved birds perched on pedestals. I've seen pictures — they look almost surreal. Lucas: Exactly. Seven were discovered in the late 1800s, mostly within the Hill Complex, which was the royal and ritual heart of the city. Only one remains in Zimbabwe today, at the Zimbabwe Museum of Human Sciences in Harare. The others were taken — some to museums in South Africa, others to private collections, and a few ended up in Cape Town. Luna: Wait — only one left in the country? That's heartbreaking. Lucas: It is. And it's been a point of contention for decades. There have been efforts to repatriate them, but it's complicated. The birds are carved from soapstone, a soft mineral that's easy to work with, and they stand about 30 to 40 centimeters tall. Each one is slightly different — the carving style, the details on the feathers, the shape of the beak. They're not mass-produced. Luna: What kind of bird are they supposed to be? Lucas: Most scholars agree they represent the Bateleur eagle. That's a bird with a distinctive short tail and broad wings, known for its aerial acrobatics. But they also have human-like features — some have lips, or what look like human ears. So they're not just literal bird carvings; they're composite, symbolic creatures. In Shona tradition, the Bateleur is associated with the spirit world and with the Mwari cult. Luna: So they're religious artifacts? Lucas: Very likely. The birds were probably placed on pedestals within the Hill Complex, perhaps as guardians or as symbols of the Mambo's authority. The Mambo — that's the sacred king — was believed to mediate between the people and Mwari, the supreme deity. The birds might have been physical representations of that connection. Some oral traditions suggest they were used during the coronation of a new Mambo, as part of the rituals that legitimized his rule. Lucas: There's also a theory that each bird represented a specific former king or a lineage. But we don't have written records from Great Zimbabwe itself — the Shona were an oral culture — so a lot of this is interpretation based on later traditions and the context of where they were found. Luna: How were they discovered originally? Lucas: European explorers and antiquarians in the late 19th century, like Theodore Bent and Richard Hall, did some very destructive digging. They weren't careful archaeologists — they were treasure hunters, essentially. They found the birds along with other soapstone objects, like bowls and figurines. Many were broken or damaged during excavation. Because of that, we've lost a lot of context. Lucas: One of the most famous birds, the one that's on Zimbabwe's flag and coat of arms, is actually a composite — the body of one bird and the pedestal of another. It became a national symbol after independence in 1980. So despite the loss, the bird's image endures as a powerful emblem of sovereignty and heritage. Luna: That's fascinating — that a symbol from a kingdom that collapsed centuries ago still resonates so strongly. Lucas: Exactly. The Zimbabwe bird — as it's now called — has become a rallying point. There were calls for repatriation even in the early 1900s, and the issue has resurfaced multiple times. In 2000, South Africa agreed to return four of the birds that were held in museums there, but only one actually came back. The others are still in dispute. It's a very live issue. Luna: So what do we actually know about their original purpose? Is there any consensus? Lucas: The most widely accepted view is that they were symbols of royal power and spiritual authority. They were found in the Hill Complex, which was the royal enclave — the Mambo's domain. The bird, especially the Bateleur, is a sky creature, linking the earthly king to the heavens. In Shona cosmology, the sky is the realm of Mwari and the ancestors. So the birds likely served as intermediaries, or markers of sacred space. Lucas: Some researchers have also pointed to parallels with the concept of the 'spirit bird' in other African kingdoms. For instance, the Luba and Kongo peoples also used bird symbolism in their royal regalia. So it fits a broader pattern of sacred kingship across the continent. Luna: Were the birds ever used in actual ceremonies? Lucas: We think so, but we don't have direct evidence. Shona oral traditions speak of a ceremony called the 'chegwa' that involved a bird figure. And there are later accounts from the 17th century, from Portuguese traders, that mention a bird idol being worshipped. But those accounts are filtered through a European Christian lens, so we have to be careful. Lucas: One thing that's clear is that the birds were not just decorative. They were carved with care, with attention to detail. The soapstone had to be sourced from local quarries, then shaped and polished. It would have been a skilled craft, probably done by specialists attached to the royal court. Luna: So the birds were part of a broader artistic tradition at Great Zimbabwe. Lucas: Definitely. There were also soapstone bowls, some carved with animals, and figures of humans. But the birds are the most distinctive. They're also the most durable. Soapstone weathers well, so many survived even after the city was abandoned. That's how they made it into the archaeological record. Lucas: Another mystery: the pedestals. Each bird sits on a pedestal with a pattern — chevrons, zigzags, sometimes a central column. These patterns are similar to those on the walls of the Great Enclosure. So there's a visual link between the architecture and the portable art. The same symbolic language appears across the site. Luna: It makes you wonder what else we've lost. Lucas: Absolutely. We only have those seven birds, but there must have been more. Some were probably looted or destroyed over the centuries. And because the early excavations were so haphazard, we don't even know exactly where each bird was found within the Hill Complex. That context — which room, which courtyard — would tell us so much. Lucas: Still, what we have is remarkable. The birds are one of the few surviving examples of the symbolic art of Great Zimbabwe, and they connect us directly to the spiritual and political world of the Shona kingdom. They're not just artifacts — they're voices from the past. Luna: It's amazing that a single carving can carry so much meaning. Lucas: It really is. And that's why the fight for their return is so emotional. For many Zimbabweans, the birds are not just historical objects — they're part of their identity. The fact that most are still in foreign museums feels like a continuation of the colonial dismemberment of the kingdom. Luna: Is there any hope for more repatriations? Lucas: There's been some movement. In 2022, the government of South Africa agreed to return a bird that was held at a museum in Cape Town. But the process is slow. Meanwhile, the Zimbabwe Museum has set up a special exhibition for the one bird they have, and it's a major draw. People come to see it, to reconnect with their heritage. Lucas: And in a way, the bird on the flag does the same thing — it's a reminder of the kingdom's glory and resilience. Every time you see the Zimbabwe flag, you're seeing a legacy of that stone city and its mysterious soapstone birds.