Guts, glory and goat tossing at the World Nomad Games

300 armour-clad horsemen charge into the immense Bishkek Arena to the boom of battle drums. As they surround dancers in traditional clothing, the backdrop lights up to display dramatic, snow-capped mountains. Onstage, performers are enacting a musical adaptation of the Kyrgyz national story, with people dressed as traditional villagers raising their hands in unison as the cavalry stand perfectly still in front of them. It’s a show of national pride, as well as a celebration of the historical and continuing importance of the nomadic lifestyle in the region.

I’m at the opening ceremony of the Kyrgyzstan hosted World Nomad Games. VIPs watch from above as the parade of international athletes begins. Sadyr Japarov, president of Kyrgyzstan, gives a solemn opening speech. Masoud Pezeshkian, president of Iran, waves soberly at the crowd. Vladimir Putin salutes Russia’s delegation. Then, Nicole Scherzinger performs Pussycat Dolls classic ​‘Don’t Cha’.

For one week, the vast spectacle of Games turns the country’s nomadic past into an Olympic-sized event, showcasing some of the world’s oldest and most unique sports. But first, we have to get there. As our van swings onto the wrong side of the highway, ignoring the honks of oncoming traffic, an AI voice complains: ​“You are speeding. Please slow down. You are speeding.”

• Read next: The brutal, unifying sporting spectacle of Buzkashi

From the driver’s seat, Temirchin looks back with a smile, translator app in hand. ​“We are going to the mountains!” his Redmi phone blurts out. Soon, the peaks come into view: the snow-tipped cathedrals of over 4,000m that surround the waters of Lake Issyk-Kul. The van leaps onto a muddy road and starts its climb towards the high plateaus and the Nomadic Olympic village.

Hundreds of white yurts sprawl across a sea of grass, dotted by horses and cattle. A large fortress built of dried mud sits at the centre, blaring a mashup of traditional songs and techno. There’s a strange crowd of soldiers, influencers, and eagle trainers who push to reach the competition area.

At the horse archery track, Arsa Wening Arrosyad, representing Indonesia, takes a deep breath. He is waiting at the start line with a white stallion. When his name is called, the pair dash out at full speed through a narrow gateway. Arsa lets go of the reins, guiding the 1,000 pound horse with only his thighs.

• Read next: A journey through Kyrgyzstan, where past and present clash

One hand holds the bow above his head, while the other snatches an arrow from the quiver and lets it loose, dead in the target’s centre.

The crowd cheers. He fires another, and another, and another, and a final one that bounces off the edge. Time? Seven seconds. ​“I rehearsed this movement so many times that I can do it with my eyes closed,” Arsa explains, clad in a gold and red Javanese robe. ​“This is a 1,000-year-old discipline in Indonesia, and it’s symbolic for us as our national hero is a horse archer.”

Horse archery is one of dozens of traditional disciplines featured at the Games, which takes place every two years. It was first conceptualised in 2012 by the Kyrgyz government with philanthropist Askhat Akibaev, who had worked as the head of various Kyrgyz sporting federations, and since held editions in other Central Asian countries such as Türkiye and Kazakhstan. It sees athletes from over 100 countries compete in an array of disciplines largely absent from the international sporting canon, rooted in contests of skill and strength once practiced by communities that migrated seasonally across Asia. 

• Read next: Chivalry isn’t dead: Inside the world of modern jousting

In and around the Olympic village, strongmen compete in bone-breaking contests while eagle hunters send their birds soaring after prey hundreds of metres away. Horse wrestlers attempt to toss each other from their mounts, while other riders compete in long-distance equestrian races. There’s a discipline where athletes race to assemble a yurt without power tools, nails or screws, as well as a barefoot tug-of-war competition (Kazakhstan swept the gold medals in all three categories).

Beyond the sporting spectacle, the Games have helped make nomadic culture fashionable, for both tourists and locals. ​“The Games are super important for young Kyrgyz people, to show pride in our culture, and that we’re starting to decolonise our minds after years of Russian domination,” says Buazhar Avazova, a 22-year-old Kyrgyz volunteer, referring to the country’s past as a part of the Soviet Union. ​“Young people are speaking more Kyrgyz instead of Russian, going on trips to yurts during the weekend, and even embracing old forms of religion such as Tengrism,” she adds.

Researchers say the impact of the Games and their associated culture has reshaped the way Kyrgyz people dress and consume. Kyrgyz political scientist Arzuu Sheranova writes that after the Games began picking up popularity, ​“dressing in ethno-fashion style became a widespread phenomenon” following years of disinterest.

• Read next: The concrete skatepark oasis in the Navajo Nation desert

The interest in nomadic culture’s revival, however, did not emerge in a vacuum. Sheranova describes the invention of the World Nomad Games as ​“a calculated political decision” by the Kyrgyz state to create a national brand capable of attracting foreign investment and tourism. Key to this strategy is the man who took this year’s Nomad Games to the next level: Sadyr Japarov. The Kyrgyz president rose to power amid political unrest in 2020, and has since concentrated political power in his office, while sidelining opposition and imprisoning independent journalists and dissidents.

Some of Japarov’s opponents see the Games as a political tool. Samat Kushbek, a former government ecologist, alleges: ​“It’s a policy of mass entertainment to hide the difficult economic truth. Traditional culture is instrumentalised to win the January 2027 presidential elections.”

This year, the pairing of the World Nomad Games with the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit means that powerful regional leaders such as Putin, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi and UN Secretary-General António Guterres attended the opening ceremony. ​“The government is undoubtedly reaping benefits from events like these,” says Shairbek Juraev, director of the research institute Crossroads Central Asia. ​“But it is also lessening interest in democratic issues in America and Europe, creating favourable conditions for Kyrgyzstan to become less tolerant of opposition.”

• Read next: Intimate portraits of today’s American nomads

It comes at a time when much of the world is increasingly questioning the limits of globalisation, and looking inwards for a sense of national and cultural identity, as opposed to the West. Despite claims that the Games are a political instrument, experts say they have become a real cultural outlet, helping traditional sports from Central Asia gain attention on the international stage. ​“Of course, the [current] format is largely invented,” adds Shairbek. ​“But games like kok boru are real traditions of the region, usually played at family celebrations, in rural areas all over Central Asia. Today, the Kazakhstan vs Kyrgyzstan match has become like Real Madrid vs Barcelona.”

Kok boru, the national sport of Kyrgyzstan, has been taken to new heights by the World Nomad Games, and has in turn drawn many international visitors to the country. The emblematic discipline is organised in a World Cup format, with every match held in a sandy gladiator ring twice the area of a football pitch.

Trumpets blaring, to the cheers and taunts of the crowd, 24 riders gallop onto the field, waving their national flags. The stadium falls silent as the referee places the ​‘ball’ in the centre field: a headless goat carcass weighing around 35kg.

The ancient practice, once played in an uncompromising free-for-all, is now codified, mixing elements from polo and rugby. Only four players of each team can be on the field, with unlimited substitutions. Players must grab the goat from their horse and toss it into the opponent’s goal: a large plastic hole. Traditionally, the well-tenderised goat is roasted and eaten after the game.

• Read next: A joyful window into rural Mongolian nomadic life 

When the signal is given, the crowd erupts, and the riders charge towards the carcass, brawling over it until the most agile among them – a Kyrgyz attacker – dives off the side of his horse, lifts the goat in one swoop and breaks free from the pack. The crowd goes wild.

Rushing toward the goal, the goat holder fools two defenders with a last-second change of course, then lifts the goat overhead and dives into the goal. After that, it was a one-way game. Goal after goal, the Kyrgyz team closes it out with a final score of 12 – 0. After one last gallop around the field, the triumphant riders gathered on the podium to receive their medals, as the Nomad Games reached their end.

Dancers and singers return to the field as dignitaries arrive, while discussion arises regarding which country would be officially designated to hold the next Games, following previous editions in Turkey and Kazakhstan. President Sadyr Japarov arrives to officially close the Games, as soldiers in traditional uniforms parade past. As night falls on the stadium, Kyrgyz officials hand the ceremonial token to Russian Deputy Sports Minister Alexei Morozov, confirming that the 2028 Games will be held in Tatarstan, Russia.

Disclosure: The Kyrgyz government provided accommodation, meals and in-country transportation to accredited journalists covering the World Nomad Games.

Antoine Goullin is a freelance journalist and filmmaker. Follow him on Instagram.

Buy your copy of Huck 83 here.

Enjoyed this article? Follow Huck on Instagram and sign up to our newsletter for more from the cutting edge of sport, music and counterculture.