Religion and immanence

In many publications and websites, academic as well as popular, Göbekli Tepe is presented and framed as a religious site, with temples, priests and gods in the sense of those of later periods (e.g. Bachenheimer Reference Bachenheimer2018; Schmidt Reference Schmidt2006). It indeed seems to be clear that at the site there is evidence for practices related to transcendental and supernatural matters. However, as forcefully argued by Sahlins in his, regrettably final, book about the ‘enchanted universe’, religion is but one form of dealing with supernatural agency, one that is not representative of many cultures, past and present, at all (see also e.g. Århem Reference Århem, Descola and Pálsson1993; De Coppet & Iteanu Reference De Coppet and Iteanu1995; Ingold Reference Ingold2008; Latour Reference Latour2004; Strathern Reference Strathern, MacCormack and Strathern1980; Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2015; Wagner Reference Wagner1981; Watts Reference Watts2013). Sahlins argues that from the eighth century bce on there was a ‘translation of divinity from an immanent presence in human activity to a transcendental “other world” of its own reality, leaving the earth alone to humans, now free to create their own institutions by their own means and lights’ (Sahlins Reference Sahlins2022, 2). In other words, spiritual beings and things were separated from humans and relegated to the heavens. This, indeed, is the way many modern westerners practise and think about belief. More in general, Sahlins discerns an economic layer cake with, from bottom to top, economy, social relations that conform to it, politics that uphold it, and finally religion (or ideology) that reinforces and legitimates the total system. Such thinking is based on binary oppositions between the sacred and the profane and nature and culture, typical of western modern society, but not at all for many other societies. In fact, and this is the central theme of his book, in ‘immanentist’ cultures peoples are surrounded by and related to spiritual beings such as gods, ancestors and the indwelling souls of plants, animals and materials. Most often, these beings have essential attributes of persons, in terms of temperament, mentality and volition: hence he speaks of ‘metahumans’.

Immanence refers to animism, but not just in the sense of the belief that objects, places and creatures all possess a distinct spiritual essence. Rather, as in the so-called new animism, immanence refers to relational ontologies: ways of being that are structured upon but also structure relationships between humans, animals, plants and things (e.g. Bird-David & Maveh Reference Bird-David and Naveh2014; Laack Reference Laack2020). In many cultures, as Harvey (Reference Harvey2006, xi) puts it, ‘the world is full of persons, only some of whom are human, and life is always lived in relationship with others’. In order to give you a feel of how different such societies are from western society, let me give an intriguing example from the Achuar of Amazonia, where the house is regarded as a living entity, and made up of male and female spaces (tankamash and ekent):

The Achuar, then, see elements of the external world as sharing a common interiority, while differing in external features. This is in stark contrast with modern Western society, in which humans and animals are similar in their physicality, but different in their interiority (Descola Reference Descola2013, 134-36).

Worlds

The work of Sahlins and Descola is part of a wider phenomenon that has been called the ‘ontological turn’ (Heywood Reference Heywood2017; Holbraad & Pedersen Reference Holbraad and Pedersen2017; Pickering Reference Pickering2017). This denotes a new way of thinking about cultural variety, which should not be approached in terms of a difference in worldviews, but as differences in ‘worlds’, which are all of equal validity. In other words, proponents of this—post-modernist—view on culture and nature criticize the common idea that the things upon which people have different perspectives are always and everywhere the same and that everywhere people see the world in different ways, but that the world is still the world. Instead, it is argued that there are not only different worldviews, but also different worlds (Heywood Reference Heywood2017). Thus, we should allow difference or alterity to challenge our understanding of the very categories of nature and culture themselves (e.g. Graeber Reference Graeber2015; Holbraad Reference Holbraad2009). The basic claim is not that cultures are living in distinct worlds, and that by crossing into a different setting one is suddenly in a different reality; instead one’s own world always defines thought and practice. Heywood (Reference Heywood2017) provides an enlightening anthropological example:

A most interesting concept regarding different ways of being is that of ‘perspectivism’. This has been introduced by Viveiros de Castro (Reference Viveiros de Castro1998; Reference Viveiros de Castro2015), and is based on what Århem (Reference Århem, Descola and Pálsson1993) has termed the ‘perspectival quality’ of Amerindian thought. Many cultures there argue that nature and culture, and particularly animals and humans, are largely undifferentiated, as animals are disguised humans. Thus, there is a spiritual unity, with humanity as the principal condition of both humans and animals, but, at the same time, a corporal diversity (Viveiros de Castro Reference Viveiros de Castro1998, 470). Perspectivism, then, denotes the observation that different beings, human as well as non-human apprehend reality from distinct points of view:

It should be noted that perspectivism does not involve all animals. The emphasis is on key economic and symbolic animals, such as great predators, and the principal prey species. Moreover, there are certain animal spirit ‘masters’. It is particularly shamans that negotiate the relations between humans and animals, as only they are able to change perspectives. Perspectivism is typical for Amazonia, but can also be found in North America, and to a lesser extent in Siberia and Asia (see e.g. Ohnuki-Tierney Reference Ohnuki-Tierney, Fitzhugh and Dubreuil1999; Willerslev Reference Willerslev2007, 94–5).

Relations, differences & hierarchies

While in many cultures the binary oppositions of modern western societies (as modelled in classical structuralism) such as life–death, matter–spirit, human–animal, etc., are meaningless, since things and beings are related instead of separated; this does not mean that there are no distinctions. For example, just like us, the Achuar make a difference between humans and animals, nature and culture, material and immaterial, above and below, etc. Moreover, they place themselves above all else, as they are able to see and communicate with each other in the same language. On a somewhat different note, they do not include all beings or things in their cosmology. So, there certainly can exist hierarchies between beings and things in immanentist societies. Within an overarching system of all kinds of relations, there can be levels of interaction and all kinds of rules about how to negotiate between different beings.

In this regard, Sahlins (Reference Sahlins2022, 81) notes that ‘The greatest gods excepted, in many immanentist societies, everything that is a person has a master, a metaperson that governs all the beings of a given kind or a given habitat’. For instance, in the Mountain Ok region of Papua New Guinea, Magalim is the serpentine ‘boss’ and father of the creatures and things in the forest, which at the same time are variant forms of him. Some of these beings have species masters of their own, resulting in a tripartite scheme of personhood: individual beings, species masters and Magalim (Jorgensen Reference Jorgensen1980). There are various types of these ‘metahuman masters’, including: beings who are magnified forms of the plants or animals they control; masters who are parents of animals or plants; anthropomorphic masters; masters who are of different non-human species than their wards; original cultivators of the land; collective masters of game or cultigens; and masters of environmental domains (Sahlins Reference Sahlins2022, 83).

Another type of hierarchical distinction in immanentist cultures or practices is that between so-called power animals and other animals. The concept of power animals was introduced by Harner in his book about shamanism (Harner Reference Harner1980, 57–72), having noted the occurrence of these in animistic practices all over the world. They are comparable to the spirit masters of the Achuar. In essence, power animals are animals that have special (powerful) characteristics which make them regarded as guardian or helper spirits. The preferred guardian spirits seem to be wild and physically powerful animals that are related to heroic images of strength, smartness and wisdom. For the Saami of northern Scandinavia, for example, the ice bear, the reindeer, the polar fox and the eagle are regarded as power animals. Such animals can show themselves in thoughts or dreams, but are also part of material symbolism. In visual art, for instance, power animals are used to create a bond between persons and animals, and to tap into their particular powers (Äikäs & Fonneland Reference Äikäs and Fonneland2021). Often these persons are shamans (or ritual specialists), but power animals are also ritually used by other people. They can be contacted and activated by using drugs and/or (intensive and extended) dancing, singing and drumming.

Relational archaeologies

Archaeology often presents us with things that cannot immediately be understood, as they differ from what we perceive as normal. This is just what makes it such an interesting practice. As indicated by Alberti (Reference Alberti2016, 173) and Olsen and Pétursdóttir (Reference Olsen and Pétursdóttir2014), the uncanny, strangeness and wonder when confronted with the unknown are crucial parts of the reconstruction process, and the dialogue between interpreter and interpreted. Dealing with otherness creates excitement and a ‘productive spark’ (Alberti Reference Alberti2016, 174); it is an invitation to explore the unknown and it helps to avoid normalization of the past.

Issues related to divergent ontologies have been increasingly discussed in archaeology over the past 20 years or so, most often on the basis of the above discussed anthropological concepts (see e.g. Alberti & Bray Reference Alberti and Bray2009; Alberti et al. Reference Alberti, Fowles, Holbraad, Marshall and Witmore2011; Crellin et al. Reference Crellin, Cipolla, Montgomery, Harris and Moore2021; Fowler Reference Fowler2017; Hodder Reference Hodder2012; Watts Reference Watts2013). Such studies vary in their objectives, but all have in common that they reject Cartesian rationalism, dualist narratives and anthropocentrism, instead arguing for an openness to past indigenous categorizations and alterity, and argue that all things are constituted by their relations, which are (like meanings) not fixed but are constantly becoming in interactions between beings and things. The main theoretical approaches which have this in common are new materialism, new animism and ontological archaeology. Together, these (and other perspectives such as ontological realism, posthumanism) may be grouped under the umbrella of relational archaeologies. In an edited volume, Watts defines these as a group of approaches that that are aimed at ‘conflating the abstract and immutable dualities of modernist ontologies’ (Watts Reference Watts2013, 1).

Following van Oyen (Reference van Oyen2016, 357), Harris (Reference Harris2021, 16) distinguishes three broad approaches to relationality in archaeology. The first (‘relations as epistemology’) regards relations as part and parcel of ancient worldviews, where personhood and agency are not restricted to human beings and where there is a conscious awareness of the relational entanglement between material and non-material entities. The second approach (‘relations as methodology’) is about how archaeologists use relations as interpretative tools, as in network analysis. Finally, in the ‘relations as metaphysics’ approach relations are seen as the fundamental building-blocks of the world. In practice, these three approaches are often intermingled, but the distinctions are heuristically relevant for thinking clearly about what relations are and how to apply and deal with them.

Discussing its use in archaeology, Alberti (Reference Alberti2016) makes a distinction between social ontology and critical ontology. The first refers to the process of using ontological theory and ethnographic data in order to reconstruct ontologies of the past. The second also attempts this, but takes into account the present ontological context, in order critically to assess the effect of that on the analysis. Inspired by quantum physics, Barad (Reference Barad2007) in her theory of ‘agential realism’ has in this respect argued that a relational world is always in the process of becoming and that our approaches and methodologies directly influence the outcome of analysis. Things, then, ‘emerge in determinate forms from their relating’ (Alberti Reference Alberti2016, 167, and see Marshall & Alberti Reference Marshall and Alberti2014 for an example). While not primarily concerned with the present, Fowler’s appreciation of ontological difference and diversity in the Neolithic of Britain and Ireland is a fine example of a critical and reflexive way of using ontological theory for interpreting the past (Fowler Reference Fowler2021).

New animism acknowledges personhood to non-human beings and things, but with a primary focus on relatedness, avoiding the classical animistic distinction between subjects and objects. In new materialism the emphasis is on relationality and process in interactions between humans, material culture and the contexts wherein these operate. By being and acting in and upon in the world, people and things relate in meaningful ways and are constantly changing and ‘becoming’. The work of Latour (Reference Latour2005) on Actor Network Theory (ANT), Ingold (Reference Ingold2000) on dwelling and skill and Hodder (Reference Hodder2012) on entanglement are prime examples of such an approach. New materialism also emphasizes the relations between properties of materials and elements of nature with humans and animals, such as the way rivers provide clay for pots (Cipolla & Allard Reference Cipolla and Allard2019).

Ritualization, temporality and space

In immanentist societies and contexts rituals are not to be regarded as special sacred contexts, separated from the profane world, but rather as special moments of attention to the relations between beings and things. Indeed, just like differences between humans and animals, distinctions are made between the sacred and profane, but these are just the two extremes of a continuum. Bell (Reference Bell1992, 74) speaks in this regard of ritualization, which is ‘the way in which certain social actions strategically distinguish themselves in relation to other actions … ritualization is a way of acting that is designed and orchestrated to distinguish and privilege what is being done in comparison to other, usually more quotidian, activities’. There is a temporal and spatial dimension to ritualization. Instead of linear or cyclical, rituals are marked by episodic time (see e.g. Benz Reference Benz and Hodder2020; Weidenhaus Reference Weidenhaus2015). This refers to a subjective experience of time, based on episodic memory, which is the recalling of specific events at particular times and places. Episodic time, then, is part of the ritualization process, as the creation of a special time is a prerequisite of creating a context for performative acts related to the spiritual world, i.e. of ritual. Often part of such a context is a special place, which can be natural (think of a spring, mountain top, a sacred tree), but made by humans as well, such as a shrine, temple, etc. The convergence of special time and place is the most important outcome of ritualization, and especially ritual buildings are marked by such specific spatio-temporality. Returning to the sacred–profane continuum, it follows that there are low and high degrees of ritualization. In this regard, in his modes of religiousity Whitehouse (Reference Whitehouse2004) differentiates between the imagistic mode of ritual, characterized by a low frequency and high arousal (e.g. rites of passage, state rituals), contrasted with doctrinal rituals, which are marked by a high frequency and low arousal (prayers, propitiatory rites, etc.).

The site and its setting

Göbekli Tepe is a 9-hectare tell located near the modern city of Şanlıurfa in southeastern Turkey and is dated to the Pre-Pottery Neolithic A (PPNA) and Early and Middle Pre-Pottery Neolithic B (PPNB), c. 9500–8000 bce. The site is especially remarkable because it was hunter-gatherers who created the monumental stone art and structures, whereas such practices were previously held to be typical for farming communities. At least 20 large and monumental semi-subterranean round to oval stone buildings were present at the site. Of these, nine buildings have been excavated. The large central buildings were surrounded by smaller domestic architecture (Clare Reference Clare2020; Clare et al. Reference Clare, Dietrich, Notroff and Sönmez2018; Dietrich et al. Reference Dietrich, Notroff, Walter and Dietrich2019; Schmidt Reference Schmidt2006; Reference Schmidt2012). The largest excavated building (C) measures about 30 by 25 m, and is preserved to a height of up to 3.5 m. Here, I focus on the PPNA–EPPNB buildings A, B, C and D, located in the central part of the site: see Figure 1.

Figure 1.

Plan of Göbekli Tepe, with the numbers of the pillars indicated. (Courtesy of the German Archaeological Institute, Göbekli Tepe Project, M. Kinzel.)

Within the walls of the large buildings T-shaped stone pillars are situated within or against the walls and benches. In the inner circle of buildings B, C and D they surround two large (up to 5 m tall) free-standing central pillars. Most of the pillars are very skilfully decorated with animals in bas-relief (Figs 2 & 3) and sometimes also with abstract symbols. On some pillars, such as pillar 27 in enclosure C, predators have been sculpted three-dimensionally, seemingly crawling out of the stone (Fig. 4). The animals depicted are in many cases wild, dangerous and male, for example foxes and lions showing erect penises and bared teeth, but also snakes, spiders and scorpions. Most of the animals are in motion, often leaping (see e.g. Busacca Reference Busacca2017). The fox is the most commonly depicted animal. Cranes and waterfowl are commonly depicted as well (Garfinkel & Krulwich Reference Garfinkel and Krulwich2023; Peters & Schmidt Reference Peters and Schmidt2004; Peters et al. Reference Peters, von den Driesch, Pöllath and Schmidt2005). It seems that there is a relation between buildings and particular animals: snakes in building A, foxes in building B, wild boar in building C, snakes and foxes in building D. In building F the highest number of anthropomorphic elements were found. Depictions of arms and hands are present on nine pillars. Given that the largest central pillars in building D were marked by flexed human arms at the sides, hands and indications of dress at the front, it is very likely that all pillars represent humans, or humanlike beings; hence I will call them humanoids, the human body being represented by the vertical part and the head by the horizontal part of the T. The animal imagery on the pillars is not representative of hunted animals. Besides Persian gazelle (58 per cent), wild cattle (18 per cent) were the major suppliers of meat, but Asiatic wild ass, wild boar, wild sheep, deer, hare, fox and a variety of bird species contributed to the diet as well (Peters et al. Reference Peters, Schmidt, Dietrich and Pöllath2014).

Figure 2.

Pillar 2 in building A, with an aurochs, fox and crane. (Source: https://www.worldhistory.org/image/13199/gobekli-tepe---layer-iii-enclosure-a-pillar-2/).

Figure 3.

Pillar 10 in building B, with a fox. (Source: https://www.worldhistory.org/image/12475/gobekli-tepe-pillar-with-sculpture-of-a-fox/).

Figure 4.

Pillar 27 in building C, with a leopard, above a wild boar. (Source: https://www.worldhistory.org/image/12474/gobekli-tepe-pillar-27-enclosure-c-layer-iii/).

Apart from depictions of animals on pillars, many medium-sized limestone sculptures of animals have been found in and around the fill of the buildings, mostly representing powerful animals such as leopards, lions, boars and vultures. One of these, a life-size and complete statue of a wild boar was found in situ on a bench in the north of building D, decorated with an abstract H-symbol, a half-moon shape, snakes and three human faces. The boar has an aggressive appearance, with its mouth wide open, showing its teeth, tusks and a tongue with traces of red paint (Fig. 5).

Figure 5.

The head of a complete and life-sized limestone statue of a boar found on a bench in building D, as exhibited in the Şanlıurfa Archaeology Museum, Turkey. (Photograph: author.)

On the basis of the dominant and striking symbolism, as well as the monumentality of the pillars and buildings, there is general agreement that the ‘special’ buildings at Göbekli Tepe represent ritual buildings (e.g. Clare Reference Clare2020; Dietrich Reference Dietrich2023; Schmidt Reference Schmidt2006; Verhoeven 2002; Reference Verhoeven2011b).

As yet, there are no human burials, but about 700 human bone fragments have been recovered, mostly skull fragments, some with evidence of de-fleshing activities and decapitation. A belief in ancestors, however, may be indicated by three partially preserved human skulls show evidence of carving, a previously unknown variation of so-called skull cult, i.e. ancestor veneration, in the Early Neolithic of Anatolia and the Levant (Gresky et al. Reference Gresky, Haelm and Clare2017; Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2012b). Notroff et al. (Reference Notroff, Dietrich and Schmidt2016) and Fagan (Reference Fagan2017) suggest that PPNA Göbekli Tepe served as a necropolis, given the considerable number of human bones with evidence of burning and cutmarks, the depictions of raptors holding human heads and ‘decapitation’ of anthropomorphic sculpture. If the site was used for excarnation of human corpses by necrophagous birds this may indeed have been the case, but given the absence of human burials, as far as we know it was not a necropolis in the normal sense.

While Göbekli Tepe is a truly astonishing site, in the past decade it has become clear that it is part of a regional tradition, with at least 10 comparable PPNA sites in the so-called Taş Tepeler region. The best known of these is Karahan Tepe with some magnificent large-scale stone sculpture (Karul Reference Karul2021). In fact, elsewhere in Turkey and all over the Near East, the PPNA is marked by special buildings and/or overt symbolism, at sites such as Körtik Tepe and Boncuklu Tarla in southeastern Turkey, Qermez Dere and Nemrik in northern Iraq, Jerf el Ahmar and ‘Abr in western Syria, Wadi Faynan 16 in Jordan and Jericho in Israel (Benz et al. Reference Benz, Alt, Erdal, Şahin and Özkaya2018; Kodaş Reference Kodaş2023; Kozlowski Reference Kozlowski2002; Mithen Reference Mithen2020; Stordeur Reference Stordeur2015; Watkins Reference Watkins1990; Yartah Reference Yartah2004; see Belfer-Cohen & Goring-Morris Reference Belfer-Cohen and Goring-Morris2010 for an overview).

Relational approaches

There are a number of archaeological studies departing from ontological/relational perspectives that deal with Göbekli Tepe.

Inspired by the work of Ingold (Reference Ingold2000) and Descola (Reference Descola2013), Borić (Reference Borić2013) has attempted to identify the ‘internal logic’ of the animal iconography by using ethnography about ‘animic or perspectival thought’, referring to the cooperation between human hunters and animal prey in animic ontologies. Here, animals have to offer themselves voluntarily to hunters in order to ensure the flow of vital force, and hence of life. Personhood, then, is a continuous process of becoming in relation with other beings. Borić argues that the depiction of powerful and dangerous animals does not indicate a preoccupation with hunting, in the sense of providing ‘statements of the human overpowering of the wild, as implied through the metanarratives of domestication so often evoked in archeological interpretations of the Early Holocene symbolic ecology’ (Borić Reference Borić2013, 61; see Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2004 for an alternative view of domestication). Rather, the depictions on the pillars would have served to release the power of predators and dangerous animals, to be used as a vital force.

Inspired by new animism, in a rather imaginative analysis, Fagan (Reference Fagan2017) has argued that the PPNA buildings should be regarded as places of—symbolic—consumption and predation. By carving, powerful beings were released from the limestone and by depicting these beings people were able to engage with dangerous creatures on their own terms, which would enable them to interact safely with the spirit world. The limestone, then, might have been regarded as being alive, constituting a ‘hungry materiality’. The infill of the buildings, primarily consisting of limestone rubble and animal remains, may in this regard be interpreted as food for the rock. Other indications for consumption and predation would be the images of predatory and aggressive animals, as well as depictions of raptors holding human heads (predatory consumption). Such a focus on predation and death is seen as having been co-productive in the cycle of death, consumption and reproduction, i.e. in the recycling of vital energy.

Busacca (Reference Busacca2017), also working from a new animist perspective, is critical of the scholarly emphasis on the aggressive and dangerous nature of the Göbekli Tepe symbolism. While not denying the meaningfulness of this, he argues for a more complete approach, including the spatial and performative contexts of the depictions. Thus, he is particularly interested in what images do, regarding them as active participants in the interactions between humans, depictions and the depicted subjects. The images are regarded as the material embodiments of otherwise invisible animal spirits. On the basis of an analysis of indications of movement and orientation in particular, Busacca proposes that that the dynamic portrayal and consistent orientation towards the centre of the circular enclosures may be related to a liminal journey of the animal spirits towards the ritual space that these buildings represent. Thus, the architecture and iconography enabled interaction between human and non-human agents.

In a recently published paper, like Busacca, I have dealt with the symbolism of and in the circular PPNA buildings’ iconography through an analysis of the relations between the architecture and the art (Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2024). The point of departure is that the concepts of boundaries, art and ritual are central to interpreting and explaining the nature and purpose of the monumental architecture. I argue that within the buildings so-called boundary conditions (the active and structuring role of boundaries on human behaviour and thought, generating specific activities, attitudes and emotions) prevailed, but at the same time the transgression of boundaries was part and parcel of the symbolism, given the ambiguous relations between humans, animals, death, life, etc. In the buildings boundary conditions were created by physical and conceptual boundaries, and evocative art structured around both the relations and differences between humans and animals, life and death, fear and awe, vitality and submission.

My current approach to the Göbekli Tepe architectural symbolism builds upon these contributions, but differs in two important respects. First, while Busacca (Reference Busacca2017, table 3) has made a catalogue of the location and orientation of the animal depictions on the pillars, a recent study by Dietrich (Reference Dietrich2023) includes the hitherto most informed and complete list of the types of animals depicted on the pillars, and moreover provides evidence for shamanism. So I have been fortunate to be able to use these data. Second, while adhering to a holistic ontology, I argue for relational differences, using the concepts of referential relations, compositional hierarchy, and perspectivism.

Approach

On the basis of the introduced anthropological and archaeological theoretical issues, and discussions of the Göbekli Tepe architecture, associated human–animal symbolism, and how this was part of ritual practices, in this section I present a model of the nature and culture of being(s) at Göbekli Tepe. The model itself is mainly based on two methodological concepts: referential relations and compositional hierarchy.

Referential relations

In order to reconstruct and denote the relations between (human, animal and supernatural) beings, I propose to use what I call ‘referential relations’. This pertains to two or more things or beings that refer to a common denominator, that have a shared trait. An example would be human hunters and animal predators, referring to prey and resulting in the linked categories of humans–animals–hunters–predators–prey. Although referential relations can be based on twofold classifications, to begin with (e.g. hunters and predators), it does not rely on structuralist sets of binary oppositions. The focus is on relations, not differences, and more than two components can be used for proposing a reference. More generally, the problem with structuralism was that its rigidity did not do justice to the complexity of relations between beings and things (see e.g. Boglioli Reference Boglioli2015; Turner Reference Turner2009; van Fraassen Reference van Fraassen2022). We particularly know from ethnography that such interactions can be very complex and multi-layered indeed (think of our example of the Achuar house), and a full understanding of them is outside the scope of prehistoric archaeology. However, as I hope to show, analysis of referential relations (as they especially come to the fore in ritual contexts) might be a good way to arrive at emic categorizations, as it allows for evidence-based associative thinking. For example, if the burial record at a site shows associations between female burials and figurines of bulls, we may propose relations and referential links between these species and genders, e.g. human female–male animal. This may denote the existence of indigenous classifications which mix our western conceptions regarding humanity, animality, gender and sex.

Compositional hierarchy

Does relationality, as a reaction against Cartesian dualism and differentiation, mean that (non-western, indigenous) relations are equal? In their book about relationality and ontology (Crellin et al., Reference Crellin, Cipolla, Montgomery, Harris and Moore2021) Harris (Reference Harris2021) has made it clear that this is most often not the case, as for instance in assemblages there can be many relations between many different entities. Relations, then, make a difference and emerge through distinctiveness. Humans and animals, for example, are simply not the same. While this does not necessarily mean that one dominates the other, it could well be the case. For instance, inclusion of animal figurines in a human burial, or human figurines in an animal burial, hints at different hierarchical levels regarding humanity and animality. Moreover, I would like to add, that—as we have seen—the presence of e.g. metahuman masters and power animals in animic societies should also make us aware of the presence of hierarchies within relational ontologies. In fact, referential relations are based on difference, as relations between similar entities (e.g. male human–male human) are obviously not very helpful in a relational analysis.

‘Hierarchy’ most often refers to strict differences in rank and status, and in archaeology it commonly features in evolutionary-inspired accounts of the progression from ‘simple’ to ‘complex’ societies (but see e.g. Verhoeven Reference Verhoeven2010). Here, I wish to use it in a rather different manner, in a way that accounts for both distinctions and relations. Borrowing a term from computer science and construction technology, I propose to use the term ‘compositional hierarchy’, where different levels of an organization are instances of a single concept. A compositional hierarchy is composed of superiors (‘parents’) and subordinates (‘children’), but it does not subsume its children. Our body, for example, is composed of organs, cells, etc., with some parts (e.g. the heart) being indispensable, while without some other parts life can go on (see e.g. Pumain Reference Pumain2006). Compositional hierarchy is about the relationships between a complete whole and its parts or aspects. While objects or people may have specific rankings within a system, the focus is on their interactions. Compositional hierarchy, then, is a useful concept for dealing with socio-cosmic differentiation in presumably holistic prehistoric—hunting-gathering—societies, as notwithstanding their relational ontologies there most likely were hierarchical distinctions between gods, spirits, humans, animals, etc.

A model

In Figure 6, I present a model of the nature and culture of being(s) at PPNA Göbekli Tepe, based on the theoretical and methodological perspectives that have been discussed. More particularly, the model is based on two sets of empirical data: (a) the ritual symbolism on the pillars in the monumental buildings, especially signifying the importance of the concepts of danger, aggression and power in the animal iconography, i.e. of power animals, and the close relation of these to humanoids, and (b) the evidence for shamanism.

Figure 6.

Model of the nature and culture of being(s) at Göbekli Tepe.

The large triangle represents the Göbekli Tepe world at large, while the smaller ones refer to different categories of bein(g)s:

• spiritual

• symbolic

• devoted

• predacious

• deceased

The beings themselves are depicted on the left and right sides of the triangles. They are regarded to have had referential relations. However, this does not mean that there were no differences: the model also shows compositional hierarchies of the beings, from top to bottom and from left to right (see Table 2).

Table 2.

Hierarchies.

Table 3.

Two beings, seven relational perspectives.

Spirituality

Given what we know about traditional hunter-gatherer societies, it is safe to assume that supernatural and spiritual beings were part of the Göbekli Tepe way of life. I postulate that the main spiritual beings are represented by the humanoid T-shaped pillars. Based on their size and iconography, these may have defined the following ‘pantheon’:

• (large) central pillars: greatest gods and ancestors

• peripheral pillars: metahuman masters

• power animals on pillars: spirit masters

• multi-vital animals on pillars: spirit helpers

The large central pillars (in buildings B, C and D) always occur in pairs; apparently there were two primary supernatural beings. Perhaps the couples represent males and females, but there are no clear indications of sex, and female symbolism is very rare at the site. A perhaps more likely interpretation is that the pairs refer to terranean and subterranean beings; to upper- and underworlds. First, the large circular structures with the central pillar pairs were sunk into the earth, indicating that a surface–subsurface distinction was significant. Second, cosmological distinctions between upperworlds and underworlds are common in many cultures, and certainly those practising shamanism, as probably at Göbekli Tepe. Third, the enigmatic abstract H-symbol on the front of central pillar 18 in building D (and also on five peripheral pillars) might be a depiction of a ladder, enabling travel between upper- and underworlds. Finally, the depicted animals (on the T-shaped stelae in general, but also as separate sculpture) might be representations of the sky (birds), the earth (e.g. aurochs, pig, leopard, boar) and the underground (e.g. snakes, scorpions and perhaps foxes living in holes).

Symbolism

The supernatural beings suggested above were materially presented in the circular buildings by large stone sculpture: by using symbols, people could connect to them in real ways. While I use the term symbol in a general, generic, sense, following the semiotics of Peirce, in fact I regard the abstract T-shaped pillars as true symbols (indirect representations), but the realistic animal images as icons (direct representations). It is suggested that the cognitive and emotional effect of these symbols was marked by a complex interplay of different reactions and feelings. The largest central pillars especially must have induced feelings of respect and awe, because of their size, but also due to their central position, making them focal points. Due to their more human-like size and their place near the benches people must have sat on, the peripheral pillars may have been regarded as fellow beings. The animal imagery on the pillars, specifically the power animals (spirit masters) and the multi-vital animals (spirit helpers), may have been capable of causing different emotions, such as fear, awe, submission and vitality.

Devotion

On account of the presence of the spiritual and symbolic beings in special buildings, they most probably were the focus of rituals which, given the evidence of shamanism, were likely organized by shamans. Apart from being spiritual intermediaries, diviners and healers, shamans are often supervisors of sacrifices. As yet, there is no direct evidence for animal sacrifice at the site, but there is proof of feasting, given unusually large proportions of large cattle bones (Peters & Schmidt Reference Peters and Schmidt2004), as well as indications for the consumption of alcohol at the site (Dietrich et al. Reference Dietrich, Hein, Notroff, Schmidt and Zarnkow2012). It can well be imagined that animal sacrifices were part of such contexts. Therefore, sacrificial animals may have been the animal counterparts of the shamans. Both were especially dedicated and devoted beings.

Predation

At yet a lower level of the model are hunters and predators (predacious beings). As other researchers have also stressed, hunter–prey relations, then, were of vital importance in hunter-gatherer societies, as animals were major sources of food. As Borić (Reference Borić2013, 52) puts it: ‘In the animic system hunting is the very activity that enables the flow of vital force between human and non-human beings’. In many immanentist cultures, therefore, humans and animals metaphysically cooperate (Ingold Reference Ingold2000). For instance, the Ainu of northern Japan believe that, when on earth, the gods disguise themselves. They can appear as many things, including animals like bears, foxes, owls, etc. These gods make their bodies—their material forms—available to humans: especially fish and meat. People are free to use these godly gifts, but must show respect, and after having used them they must return the spirits to the world of the gods by means of a spirit-sending ritual. These rituals are necessary for the sustainment of life; without them the gods would not be willing to visit the earth to offer their material bodies, and life would not regenerate (Akino Reference Akino, Fitzhugh and Dubreuil1999; Ohnuki-Tierny Reference Ohnuki-Tierney, Fitzhugh and Dubreuil1999). Most often, such rituals and more generally such relations are supervised by shamans, which have the ability to communicate with spirit masters.

Death and life cycles

The lowest level is represented by the ultimate fate of both humans and animals: death (deceased beings). This was not necessarily an ending, but probably the beginning of an afterlife, given the topmost spiritual beings, which influence life and death, but belong to another realm.

As indicated on the left side of the large triangle, on a more general level, the model suggests a ritual concern with death, life and afterlife, in other words with all that is, was and might be. As denoted on both the left and right sides of the triangle, nature and culture, particularly humans and animals, were closely related on all levels, as both types of beings seem to have had spiritual, symbolic, practical and eschatological counterparts. Finally, as signified on the right side, material, immaterial, corporal and liminal states of being corresponded to life, death and afterlife, as well as to specific states of being.