Naqsh-e Rostam

Stand still for a moment and look up. A wall of pale, honey-coloured limestone rises in front of you, warm in the sun and streaked with grey where rain has run down it for thousands of years. The air is dry. The ground underfoot is dusty and hard. Above you, four enormous crosses are cut deep into the rock... and each one is the doorway to a royal tomb.

This is Naqsh-e Rostam, a cliff in the plain of Marvdasht in southern Iran. The ancient city of Istakhr lay close by, and the ceremonial palaces of Persepolis stand only a few kilometres away. The cliff is part of a ridge that locals call Hossein Kuh. For more than a thousand years, the rulers of Persia came back to this single wall of stone. They came to be buried here, and later they came to be remembered here.

Let us start with those four crosses. They belong to the Achaemenid kings — the dynasty that built the first Persian empire in the sixth and fifth centuries before Christ. Each tomb facade has the same shape. The horizontal arm of the cross shows the front of a palace, with columns carved in relief. Behind the small doorway in the centre, a chamber is cut straight into the mountain. Scholars often call this shape the Persian cross, although it has nothing to do with Christian symbolism.

Only one of these tombs names its owner. That is the tomb of Darius the Great, one of the most powerful kings of the ancient world. His tomb carries long inscriptions in three languages: Old Persian, Elamite and Babylonian. In them, Darius describes himself and the qualities he valued in a ruler. The other three tombs carry no names. By tradition, and by comparison of style, they are usually given to Xerxes, Artaxerxes the First and Darius the Second. Keep in mind that these attributions are informed guesses, not certainties.

Now lift your eyes to the top section of each cross. This is the part most visitors miss. The king stands on a raised platform, facing a fire altar. Above him hovers a winged symbol. Many scholars connect it with Ahura Mazda, the supreme god of the Zoroastrian faith, though its exact meaning is still debated. Look below the king. His platform rests on the raised arms of many small figures. They represent the peoples of the empire, holding up their ruler together.

Here is the first surprise. Those small figures are not identical. Each one wears different clothing and a different style of hair or headgear. On the tomb of Darius, they are even labelled. So the cliff works as a kind of carved map of the empire, showing the variety of nations who lived under Persian rule. Ancient artists were recording what these people looked like, in the stone itself.

Now bring your gaze down to eye level. The large scenes carved below the tombs come from a much later age. They were made by the Sasanian dynasty, who ruled Persia from the third century after Christ. The Sasanians came from this very region of Fars. Their family had strong links to Istakhr. By carving their own images beneath the old Achaemenid tombs, they placed themselves directly in line with the earlier kings. It was a message in stone about legitimacy.

One of the most famous scenes shows Shapur the First on horseback. In front of him, a figure in Roman dress kneels. Another Roman stands, and the king grips his wrist. Most historians identify these men as Roman emperors. The standing figure is usually taken to be Valerian, who was captured by the Persians in battle. The kneeling figure is often identified as Philip the Arab. For Rome, the capture of a living emperor was a deep humiliation. Here, it is displayed for all time.

Another relief shows the investiture of Ardashir, the founder of the Sasanian dynasty. Two riders face each other. One is the king. The other is a divine figure handing him a ring of kingship. Under the hooves of each horse lies a defeated enemy. The scene presents earthly victory and divine approval as one single event. Notice how large and calm the riders appear compared with the figures beneath them.

Here is the second surprise. Some sections of the cliff are older than both Persian dynasties. In at least one place, faint traces of a much earlier relief from the Elamite civilisation survive. The Elamites were a people who ruled parts of southwestern Iran long before the Achaemenids. A later Sasanian carving was cut over that older work. So this wall has been reused, again and again, by people who saw it as sacred ground.

Now turn around. Facing the cliff stands a square stone tower with small dark windows set into its walls. It is called the Kaaba-ye Zartosht, which means the Cube of Zoroaster. It dates from the Achaemenid period, but nobody knows its original purpose for sure. Suggestions include a fire temple, a royal tomb, or a store for sacred texts. What is certain is its later importance. A long Sasanian inscription on its walls records the deeds and victories of Shapur the First, in Middle Persian, Parthian and Greek.

The name of the site comes from a much later time. Naqsh-e Rostam means the Picture of Rostam. Rostam is the great hero of the Shahnameh, the Persian Book of Kings, a long epic poem written around a thousand years ago. Centuries after the Sasanians, local people looked at the mighty riders on this cliff. They did not know the names of the kings. So they decided the figures must show their legendary hero. The name stayed.

Take a few more minutes before you leave. Walk slowly along the base of the cliff and watch how the light changes the carvings. When the sun is low, the shadows sharpen every horse, every crown, every fold of cloth. When it is high, the reliefs flatten and the rock almost glows. Listen to the wind moving across the open plain.

As you walk away, look back once more at those four dark doorways high in the stone. Kings chose this place to face eternity. Later kings chose it to claim their past. And the people of this plain gave it a hero's name. You are now one more visitor in that long line, standing on the same dusty ground beneath the same patient cliff.