Since the discoveries beneath the mound of Göbekli Tepe came to light, the site has become one of the most discussed places globally due to: A) its prehistoric age, B) its massive scale, C) the stunning megalithic structures, and D) the remarkable stone-etched iconography. Dating back to around 11,600 years ago, post-Younger Dryas at the onset of the warmer Holocene, the people here were hunter-gatherers. Over time, the settlement likely transitioned toward an agricultural society, which likely contributed to its abandonment. In the last two decades, Göbekli Tepe has inspired countless books—academic and alternative—featured in TV shows, documentaries, YouTube videos, and dedicated websites. Its unique finds have captivated us, with the decorated T-shaped pillars emerging as an ancient wonder.
The iconography is mesmerizing. For a culture without writing, these pillars, alongside a few structures and stone artifacts, are the sole record of their civilization. But what do the images depict? What stories do they tell? Interpretations include abstract star charts, geographical maps of the Near and Middle East, calendrical markers, or memorials of myths and legends. After extensive research and brainstorming, this analysis, part one of a multi-part series, dives into the details. Any hypothesis about the pillar iconography must be comprehensive. An animal on one pillar must make sense across others. For instance, if a vulture represents a constellation on Pillar 43, it should on Pillar 56, the frieze in Enclosure D, and related statues. If a hypothesis fits one but not all, it’s likely flawed.
While some pillars feature a single animal, others like Pillars 43, 33, and 56 depict narratives with clear animal relationships. Accurate animal identification is critical—misidentifying an animal makes the puzzle unsolvable. Are these truly snakes, as some claim? Is this a spider? Identification requires knowledge of local wildlife, logical contextual analysis, and calculated assumptions. The ancients left no guide, so animal identification must align with the broader pillar iconography and remain consistent across pillars. For example, if these are snakes, why are they paired with cranes or confronting an aurochs on Pillar 20?
Archaeologists like Klaus Schmidt and the German Archaeological Institute laid the groundwork, documenting pillars with photographs, drawings, and interpretations. However, Professor Dros Georgiou, a historical anthropologist and archaeologist specializing in material culture, ancient technologies, and iconography, has elevated this understanding. His animal identifications set the stage for logical interpretations. Enclosure D may be the Rosetta Stone of the Tasıllı culture, housing Pillars 43 and 33. Georgiou posits that animal groupings depict ecosystems—not just zoomorphic but topographic imagery with deeper layers.
Pillar 33, a T-shaped masterpiece, features animals on the T-head, broad sides, and narrow front. On the left broadside, two cranes appear, inhabiting grasslands, wetlands, marshes, and riverbanks, hunting fish. Surrounding animals are often called snakes, but Georgiou suggests they resemble freshwater eels, like the Mesopotamian spiny eel, wriggling as cranes hunt them. A central band on the narrow face, interpreted as a shallow river or flooded valley, shows eels moving from wetlands downstream. “Spiders” in this river look less spider-like on inspection. Georgiou identifies them as narrow-clawed crayfish, native to Turkey, with curved antennae and bent legs. The lack of large pincers may indicate female or young crayfish, spawning in summer heat, suggesting seasonality.
Above an H symbol on the narrow side, eel- or snake-like animals with larger heads and smaller bodies appear, likely Mesopotamian catfish, found in Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Turkey. Further down, a leopard crosses the water—a strong swimmer drawn to crayfish, eels, catfish, and birds. Pillar 33 depicts an ecosystem: cranes in marshes following eels into water with crayfish, a leopard hunting birds, forming a food chain. The pillar’s capital shows four bustards (steppe birds), symbolizing dryland, contrasting the wetland below. Chevron shapes may represent mud, ripples, waves, vegetation, or higher ground. Eels enter from the left, thriving in swamps, burrowing in mud, and migrating to lakes or oceans. A 2016 study showed European eels migrating to the Atlantic to mate, with young eels returning. Pillar 33 may mark eel migration times, attracting birds, serving as a time and landscape marker.
Pillar 20’s rectangular band represents a valley. A catfish (large head, short body) indicates wet conditions, facing a vertically positioned bovid, likely a dead aurochs floating in a flooded valley. Catfish, scavengers, pair logically with a carcass, teaching hunters that dead animals attract catchable fish. Pillar 30 shows catfish or eels with a drowned animal. On Pillar 43’s edge, a vertical feline (dead) faces a crayfish, also a scavenger. Pillar 38 shows a canid (possibly a jackal), wild boar, cranes, and a duck—swampy riverbank animals, an ecological marker. Pillar 2 features an aurochs, fox or jackal, and crane, typical of muddy riverbanks.
H and I symbols may represent man-made barriers or traps. On Pillar 33, an H symbol stops catfish, suggesting landscape engineering to manage wildlife. I symbols near cranes may keep animals from fish or direct fish movement. Georgiou sees the H as a net, but it may be a universal barrier symbol. On Pillar 43, an I symbol stops a crane, while a catfish or eel navigates an H barrier, showing directed fish movement. On Pillar 1, Georgiou sees fish in a net, but the “fish” are near a mountain-dwelling ram or lamb. Instead, these may be net weights to catch the lamb below, indicating early animal husbandry. Fish and sheep lack natural context, so these aren’t fish.
Pillar 56 depicts a wetland scene: eels or catfish swim left, surrounded by feeding water birds, pursued by leopards, with a vulture circling for remains—a wetland food chain. Correct animal identification is critical. Calling eels or catfish “snakes” skews context. As wetland wildlife, they give context to water birds and felines. Göbekli Tepe’s hunters had deep natural knowledge, passed down generations. Pillars taught youth where, when, and how to find animals and associated dangers, like leopards near water birds. They taught land management, barrier placement, fish direction, water isolation, and lamb capturing. Carcasses attract scavengers like crayfish.
Animal behavior may indicate specific times, adding another dimension. Georgiou suggests Enclosure D’s story involves late-winter Euphrates flooding, with drowned carcasses floating, or a spring riverine landscape with fish, water birds, aurochs, and boars in muddy banks, and leopards and jackals waiting. Enclosure D may be a shamanic sanctuary teaching natural world details, weaving stories, beliefs, and mythology. Identifying animals is the start—next, we need logical symbol interpretations and explanations for anthropomorphic pillars and later human iconography dominance at Göbekli Tepe. This research helps make sense of Göbekli Tepe and relates to Karahan and other Tasıllı sites in Southeastern Anatolia.
