A High-Five Across Time

Locating this petroglyph from Karatau, which depicts a human hand in a maze of rocks, is no easy feat. Not only is the Jyñğylşyq petroglyph site located within the protected Karatau Nature Reserve, which has limited tourist access, but also the trail through its long, winding gorge is densely overgrown with bushes and trees, making the journey challenging. In addition, the figures carved 4,000 years ago are concealed beneath a dense patina and only become visible at sunset, when the sun's slanting rays strike the surface at just the right angle.

And as one gazes at this ancient work of art, a question naturally arises: Why did the creator of this ancient artwork leave an open human palm among the figures of animals on the rock? What does this gesture mean in the language of the Bronze Age? While it’s tempting to think so, it is unlikely to be the artist's autograph or a greeting to future generations.

The depiction of the human hand is one of the oldest symbols on Earth. The earliest examples were created using ochre or other pigments and discovered in caves throughout Western Europe—such as Altamira and El Castillo in Spain, as well as Gargas and Pech Merle in France—and date back to the Paleolithic era. This symbol remained significant throughout the Bronze Age, the early Iron Age, and even the Middle Ages.

Scholars have several theories about the purpose of painted or carved images of hands on rocks. Some interpret them as symbols of magical power, a kind of pact with spirits for protection. Others link them to the imagery of the Neolithic Great Goddess. Notably, millennia later, ancient Egyptians and Babylonians used amulets depicting the ‘hand of Isis’ or the ‘hand of Ishtar’, who were successors to the Great Mother. These served as protective talismans, a magical sign warding off evil forces, much like in India, where the tradition of leaving handprints made of red clay or paint on walls as a blessing for the household persists to this day.

In temples, such images were, and still are, considered symbolic substitutes for sacrifices. In the Caucasus during the Middle Ages, the open palm symbolized ownership or, as we might say today, private property. Today, we interpret such images as signs of openness, trust, and an invitation to dialogue.

Whose hand did the Bronze Age shaman-artist carve onto the stone canvas? It’s clearly not a man’s hand, so perhaps it is a child’s or a woman’s. Perhaps it is a greeting from the Great Mother Goddess?

For thousands of years, this gesture has served as a silent guardian for travelers passing along the trail, offering both welcome and farewell, and protecting them from misfortune and harm. It stands as a timeless symbol of enduring care, speaking to both the human need for safety and the unseen forces that we may often believe protect us.