Latest / Great Zimbabwe: The Lost African Kingdom of Stone — Fexingo History / The Domboshava Torque: Gold, Power, and a Lost Necklace
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about the stone walls and the birds, but there's one object from Great Zimbabwe's world that I don't think we've touched — the Domboshava Torque. Ever heard of it? Luna: I don't think so. What is it? Lucas: It's a gold neck-ring, massive — about a kilogram of gold, twisted like a rope. Found in the early 1900s near a place called Domboshava, which is north of Harare, not far from Great Zimbabwe's broader orbit. But it wasn't just a pretty ornament. That torque likely belonged to a king, maybe from the Munhumutapa dynasty, and it was probably loaded with spiritual meaning. Lucas: The name 'torque' comes from European archaeology, but the style is distinctly African — a heavy spiral of gold, worn around the neck as a sign of authority. And the gold itself, that's the key. We know gold was flowing out of this region to the coast at Sofala, then across the Indian Ocean to Kilwa, to Persia, even to China. But some of it stayed here, and it was reserved for the very top of society. Luna: So this torque was like a royal crown, but for the neck. Lucas: Exactly. And it's not just about wealth — gold in this culture was tied to the divine. The Mwari cult, the spirit mediums, the whole spiritual hierarchy — gold was seen as a substance that carried the essence of the ancestors, or even of Mwari himself. So a torque like this wasn't just bling; it was a conduit of power. The king would wear it during rituals, and it linked him to the spiritual world. Lucas: Now, how it got to Domboshava is a story in itself. There's a theory that it was carried north by a mhondoro — a spirit medium — during the upheaval when Great Zimbabwe was being abandoned. The mhondoro would have safeguarded the royal regalia, moving it to a hidden shrine. Domboshava is a rocky outcrop with caves, a place that's still considered sacred today. Luna: So it wasn't lost — it was hidden on purpose. Lucas: That's the thinking. And the way it was found, it wasn't a controlled dig. A farmer or a prospector stumbled on it, maybe in a cave, maybe in the open. And then it went through a chain of hands — a local chief, a colonial administrator, eventually into a museum in Cape Town. And that's where the real controversy begins. Lucas: You see, in the 1920s, a curator at the museum decided the torque was too heavy and too fragile to display. So he had it melted down. Melted. A unique piece of African goldwork, turned into a bullion bar. The gold itself was sold, and the bar ended up in a bank vault. Luna: Oh no. That's devastating. So it doesn't exist anymore? Lucas: Right, the original is gone. But here's the thing — we know about it because of photographs and sketches made before it was destroyed. And there are similar torques that have survived elsewhere, like in the British Museum. So scholars have been able to reconstruct what it likely looked like. But the loss is still felt today, especially in Zimbabwe. Lucas: There are people now calling for the repatriation of other artifacts, and they point to the torque as a symbol of what was lost — not just an object, but a piece of cultural heritage that can never be recovered. Some even say the destruction was deliberate, a way to erase the grandeur of African civilisation. Whether that's true or just neglect, it's a painful chapter. Luna: I can imagine. So what did the torque actually mean, beyond just being royal? Did it have a specific ritual role? Lucas: That's a great question. We know from later Shona traditions that gold regalia was used in the installation of a new king. The torque would be placed on the king's neck by the senior mhondoro, as a sign that he had the blessing of the ancestors. And it was also worn during the annual ceremonies that honored Mwari, when the king would mediate between the people and the divine. Lucas: There's also a possibility it was used in negotiations with foreign traders. You'd show off the torque to demonstrate the kingdom's wealth and power. But its real weight was spiritual. It's not like a European crown, which is mostly about political authority. This was about maintaining cosmic balance — the king's health, the rains, the fertility of the land. Luna: And it was made from gold. Did they have gold mines around Domboshava? Lucas: Not exactly at Domboshava, but the whole region was rich in gold. We've talked about the gold trade before — the mines were mostly in the granite hills to the west and south. The gold was washed from rivers or dug from shallow shafts. The people who mined it weren't slaves, they were free laborers, often working under the authority of a chief or a spirit medium. And the gold was seen as a gift from the ancestors, so there were strict taboos around mining — you couldn't just dig anywhere. Lucas: So the torque was probably made by a highly skilled goldsmith, maybe attached to the court. We don't have names, but we know from Portuguese accounts that these artisans were revered. They would have used lost-wax casting or, more likely, hammering and twisting — the torque's spiral shape suggests a lot of careful work. Luna: It's incredible to think about that craftsmanship, knowing it was melted down. Lucas: Yeah. And the story gets even more layered. There's a theory that the torque wasn't just a royal ornament, but actually had a specific connection to the Mwari cult. The mhondoro who carried it north might have been doing so to establish a new sacred site, a place where the spirit of Great Zimbabwe could continue to reside. Domboshava is known for its rock art, and some of those paintings date back to that era. Maybe the torque was meant to be a physical anchor for that spiritual presence. Lucas: We can't be certain, but it fits with what we know about how the mhondoro operated. They were the keepers of tradition, the ones who could communicate with the ancestral spirits. They would have seen the torque as something that held the essence of the kingdom itself. So hiding it at Domboshava would have been a way to protect that essence during a time of crisis. Luna: So when the Portuguese arrived, did they know about these torques? Did any descriptions survive? Lucas: Actually, yes. There are a few Portuguese chronicles from the 16th century that mention the king of the Munhumutapa wearing gold ornaments 'in the manner of a shepherd's crook' — probably a reference to a torque or a staff. And they describe the gold as being so pure that it could be worked without flux. So they were aware of the splendor, even if they couldn't get their hands on it directly. Lucas: One thing that's interesting is that the torque's design — the twisted spiral — appears in other Shona regalia, like the ivory bracelets and the copper anklets worn by spirit mediums today. So even though the original is gone, the aesthetic survived. It became part of the visual language of authority, passed down through generations. Luna: So it's not just a lost artifact — it's a lost template for an entire style. Lucas: Exactly. And that's why its destruction hurts so much. It's not like losing a single painting; it's like losing a whole school of art. But there's a movement now to reclaim that heritage. Some Zimbabwean artisans are recreating torques based on the old photographs, and there's a push to have replicas displayed in museums alongside the pieces that did survive. It's a way of saying, 'This is our story, and we're not going to let it be erased.' Lucas: And I think that's a powerful note to end on. The torque is gone, but its resonance is still alive. It's a reminder that even the most precious objects can be lost, but the ideas they carry can persist. And for us, it's a window into a world that was far more complex and sophisticated than the colonial narratives gave it credit for. Lucas: Before we let that settle, I want to say something about keeping these conversations going. You know, a couple of dollars a month genuinely makes a difference for us — it helps cover the research, the equipment, the time. If you've gotten something out of these episodes, and you're able, you can find us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. No pressure, just a little fuel for the fire. Luna: Yeah, it really does add up. Every little bit helps us bring you stories like this. Lucas: Alright, back to the torque. There's one more mystery I want to leave you with. Some researchers believe there might be other gold artifacts from the same period hidden in the same region, waiting to be found. Maybe not torques, but things like gold beads, or even a crown. The problem is, any excavation now needs to be done with the utmost care, both archaeologically and spiritually, to respect the ancestors who placed them there. Luna: That would be incredible to find something like that today. Lucas: It would. And it would also be a chance to right some of the wrongs of the past. But for now, the torque's story is a testament to the power of a single object to hold so much meaning — and to the fragility of that meaning when the object is lost. I'm glad we got to share it with you.