Although it’s been described as ” polo with a headless goat,” the comparison doesn’t really hold up. The rules vary by country, but most buzkashi matches have no teams, no clock, and no clearly defined playing field.
It’s a war of all against all, in which the winner is the horseman (traditionally, only men play the game) who successfully carries the carcass past some defined point or throws it in a certain area. Here, players on horseback fight over a decapitated, disemboweled goat or calf carcass.
While it is the national sport of Afghanistan, varieties of the game have migrated across central Asia and h
ave been adopted by a number of different ethnic groups including the Kazakhs, Tajiks, and Kyrgyz people.
The goat (or sometimes a calf) is decapitated and disemboweled, its legs are severed at the knees and then the body is soaked in water for 24 hours to harden the flesh and toughen the hide before being used in the game.
In regard to the use of a dead animal in sport, there will always be some who object. There is a distinction to be made, however, with animals used in buzkashi and something like bullfighting, for example.
The goat is slaughtered a day before it’s used and is roasted after the match has finished. While an animal is killed for the game, it’s not the process of killing that is the sport itself.
Riders usually wear heavy clothing and head protection to guard themselves against other players’ whips and boots. Competitors that play in the former Soviet Union often wear salvaged Soviet tank helmets for protection.
The sport also requires a huge amount of agility and horsemanship, so the boots are worn usually have high heels that lock into the saddle to help the rider lean on the side while trying to pick up the goat from the floor.
The spread of the game has led to it being played among Kyrgyz, Turkmens, Pashtuns, Uyghurs, Hazaras, Kazakhs, Uzbeks, and Tajiks, in central Asia. It has also reached as far west as Turk
ey and as far east as China, where horseback buzkashi is played, as well as riding yaks. Today, the game exists in two main forms: Tudabarai and Qarajai.
While players must carry the carcass to their opposition’s end of the field and place it in the ‘Circle of Justice’ in Qarajai, the simpler Tudabarai involves grabbing the goat and moving in any direction until clear of other players.
‘Significantly, this overall sponsor is seldom himself on horseback. Rather he sits to one side, powerful in apparent repose. A nod here, a raised finger there, and his will is done.
‘The man who can manage a buzkashi successfully gains enormous prestige. People spe
ak for years of his achievement. Henceforth he is known as someone who orders events, achieves his ends, and imposes his purpose on chaos – the sort of man to support in the real world in the hope of concrete spoils. All too often, however, the game boils over into fierce and bloody brawls. The sponsor is thereby disgraced in this public arena.
The best buzkashi players today have personal sponsors, backed by rich influencers who crave reputation and success. In essence, it’s not far removed from the wealthy oligarchs of professional sports teams buying clubs and franchises, hoovering up the best talent to bring their club success on the pitch and shirt sales off it.
Under Taliban rule, the amount of buzkashi played saw a sharp decline because it was deemed immoral. Since their ousting, the sport’s popularity has once again surged within the nation, with some matches drawing spectators in the thousands.
Animal rights activists wi
ll understandably be repulsed by the use of an animal carcass in sport, but the popularity of buzkashi shows no sign of slowing down.
For it to be widely accepted across the world, things may have to change, but why would Afghan players care about such (perceived) acceptance? With traditions potentially going as far back as the 11th century, advocates, backers, and fans of buzkashi need not worry about their beloved sport changing anytime soon.
