At a recent wedding, I witnessed a lovzar (chechen dance) being announced, but there weren’t enough guys for it. While the elegant girls were gathering in the center of the room, the guys, dressed casually, some in tracksuits, stood on the second-floor balcony. The lovzar almost didn’t happen; the men’s side of the semicircle was empty. The guys didn’t want to come down, and in the end, it only lasted about half an hour.
Why didn’t the guys want to dance? I guess if you’re not very good at it, you don’t really want to participate. You want to hide and not be the center of attention.
As I understand it, the situation used to be the exact opposite: people weren’t afraid of attention at a lovzar, but rather, they willingly accepted it.
Human attention works almost like magic. Anyone who’s performed in front of even a small crowd understands how powerful its effect is. It affects us on a biological level: we sweat, breathe faster, and experience stress. And so, khelkhar (this is another word for the dance, more precisely describing the dance itself, while lovzar means the whole festivity. Khelkhar translates as “dance”, lovzar as “game”) is also a powerful emotional experience. Because many people are watching you, dozens, maybe hundreds. Perhaps these guys felt that dancing wasn’t worth the stress.
The Courage to Participate
It’s rare to have the opportunity to look at another person, especially a stranger. Providing such an opportunity is one of the functions of dance. You voluntarily become the focus of everyone’s attention and accept it, saying, “This is how I behave and how I control my body. Draw your own conclusions.” Those observing have the opportunity to draw a brief portrait of them. The dance, gestures, and facial expressions reveal what kind of person they are, what their personality type is.
A peculiarity of North Caucasian dances is that the main moving body parts are the shoulders. Why is this interesting? In the ancient world and the Middle Ages, a common conception of consciousness was that it was divided into three parts. First came the head, or logos—the rational part of consciousness, responsible for calculation and logic. Then came the heart, or thumos—the part of consciousness associated with pride, ambition, courage, and egoism. And third eros, or the belly—responsible for desires and appetites.
The peculiarity of North Caucasian cultures is that they often emphasize ambition, pride, and respect for human dignity. I don’t think it’s surprising that in their dance, the main part of the body that moves is the heart area—the shoulders, arms, chest. Through the wide-set shoulders and straightened arms, you show your dignity, your own place, your point of view, you declare yourself in dance.
In Chechnya, when people meet, they hug, so to speak, only with the shoulders. People hug each other sideways, with one arm under the other’s. This also shows an emphasis on thumos. The younger person places their hand under the older person’s, regardless of power, wealth, or beauty, but in accordance with a “neutral” hierarchy. Age here functions as a neutral hierarchy, like a listing of something in alphabetical order.
Another characteristic of the dance is that people stand in a circle and clap. They celebrate their shared identity, acting as part of this group. It’s similar to how people at a football stadium stand in a circle around the field and clap. They dress in their team colors and congratulate each other on sharing the same identity.
Dancing also often involves wearing clothing that is characteristic of a particular identity. And this is not surprising, as we physically embody our identity through the very act of gathering and dancing together, thus celebrating our shared belonging to this group of people.
Structure and Liminality
Anthropologist Victor Turner studied “primitive” cultures, focusing on ritual events. He identifies two main states of society: the first is stable, when it is structurally organized, and the second is a transitional state of liminality. Liminality refers to a state of uncertainty and disorientation during rites of passage, when participants lose their previous status but have not yet acquired a new one. They are in a state of transition between two statuses. For people in a state of liminality, their sense of identity dissolves and new perspectives open up. Turner argues that liminality can be understood as a time and place of withdrawal from ordinary modes of social interaction, a period when the usual constraints of thought, self-understanding, and behavior are erased, and “the very structure of society is temporarily suspended.”
During liminality, society transitions to “communitas”—a state characterized by a sense of camaraderie and a strong emotional bond between a group of people experiencing the same transitional experience. In the normal, structured state of society, a hierarchical system of political, legal, and economic positions functions. In “communitas,” the community is unstructured and undifferentiated, a union of equal individuals subject to the authority of ritual elders.
A temporary suspension of familiar social hierarchies is necessary for the changes that occur during a transitional moment to truly take hold. For example, if someone in a village gets married, the social structure of the village may change, new family ties and dynamics may emerge. A liminal state is needed to “digest” this. Another example is when someone gets promoted at the office, everyone gathers and celebrates. Everyone needs to be aware of the new social dynamics in the office, and the moment of celebration is the liminal transition between the old and the new.
When social hierarchies are suspended, they are simulated and updated, as in children’s play or sports. This is one of our favorite activities—simulating and modeling situations. We constantly model real processes. And khelkhar is also a game where the processes occurring every day are simulated. Games, sports, and dance are these intermediate spaces of simulation.
Binary Symbolism of Dance
In Chechen and other North Caucasian dances, the circle in which the couple dances is arranged with women on one side and men on the other. If we imagine the man dancing on the women’s side and the woman on the men’s side, the entire arrangement would look like a yin-yang symbol from above. This is a coincidence, but it can be explained by the fact that this symbol also represented a model of reality as it was perceived in ancient times.
In general, when reading about the symbolism of Caucasian dances, people often talk about the eagle and the swan, or birds in general, or the sun and moon. All these are ways of describing the same dynamics. The man embodies the masculine archetype, which corresponds to both the sun and birds, or the element of air. And the woman embodies the feminine archetype, which corresponds to both the moon and the swan, as a water bird, or the element of water.
In the ancient world, many cultures understood reality as something composed of ideas and their realization. And everything works like this: first comes the principle, for example, the design of a chair, and then comes its realization—the chair. If you make five chairs from one design, you’ll get five slightly different realizations of that idea.
Ideas were associated with the sky, the sun, and the masculine principle. And realization, facts, and embodiment in physical, three-dimensional space were associated with the earth, or the feminine principle. Water in this cosmology was underground.
Therefore, the man in our dance is like the sun, or like an eagle that rises above all the birds. He seems to be above everyone, using the height and the light, dominating through his position.
In dance, a man simultaneously reacts to a woman and leads her. The woman, too, leads and reacts to a man. However, the woman’s movements are more fluid, while his are more angular. She, one might say, is running away from the man, yet simultaneously controlling him.
The masculine archetype is associated with ideas, creation, and work. Feminine energy, or the archetype, is associated with rest, restoration, and recreation. We work during the day when the sun is shining, concentrating on embodying our idea—for example, building a house—in physical material: bricks, clay, or earth. We take the earth as raw material, process it, and shape it to fit our idea. And in the evening, when the sun sets and the moon rises, we rest, dance, and recuperate. And that’s how all life works: first there’s an idea, then its realization (and then a renewal of that realization). At every moment of creation, a hierarchy is immediately established. Those who create better rise to the top. And dancing is a model of both processes—creation and recreation.
In this regard, the state of liminality corresponds to a chaotic state and water. Circular movements, like round objects, are less stable and correspond to the element of water, while square objects are more “hierarchical” (i.e., stable, their parts are more firmly connected) and correspond to solid ground. When a person dances, they also depart from the body’s usual state, when they walk in accordance with gravity or with a purpose—we usually go where we need to go. In khelkhar he moves without purpose, and part of the dance entails moving his legs as if he’s sliding, as if water had spilled on the floor (the term for this is “kog sharshbar”, which translates as “to slide the feet”). He departs from his usual structure, and during the dance, he finds himself in an intermediate, twilight state, where everything is slippery and uncertain. He also doesn’t always walk straight, in line with his body’s axis; he may go sideways, or backwards, or in circles—that is, without a goal or a clear hierarchy of priorities, as if he’s lost.
Archaeologist Lechi Ilyasov also wrote that the khelkhar expresses the eternal cycle of the sun and moon. Petroglyphs depicting circles and spirals are among the most common in Chechnya, and the couple’s movements during the dance also draw spirals.
Historian Said-Mokhmad Khasiev believed that in khelkhar the myth of the Minotaur and the labyrinth is expressed, which is confirmed by the couple’s spiraling movements in the dance. He also wrote that labyrinths, including spirals, have been featured in the ornamentation of North Caucasian cultures since ancient times, for example, among the Koban culture.
For the people of the Koban culture, Turner’s theory would have been very understandable, as they also believed that the cycle of life is expressed in the sun’s initial high rise—a time of concentration and stability—then its descent into the waters, when the world is renewed in the liminal nighttime, then for the day to return again. Khasiev also noted that when a man extends one arm to the side and raises the other above his head, bending it, he is thus depicting another solar symbol—the swastika.
Two Types of Dominance
Given these basic principles of dance, we can move on to the specific processes it simulates. These are the processes of establishing relationships between people, establishing status and competing for dominance, determining who sets the agenda, who defines what is good, and who gains the upper hand.
The unique feature of Chechen dance is that everyone performs in turns. Everyone is given the opportunity to express themselves and showcase their talent but without dominating the entire show or taking over the entire space. Space is always left for others to showcase themselves in fair competition.
So, theoretically, everyone gets what they’re entitled to—according to their merits and talents. And ideally, those who get less should accept it. And those who get more shouldn’t brag about it. And if everything goes as it should, everyone is satisfied with their lot and happy for others if they receive more attention. Then the group is characterized by cohesion and loyalty among its members.
There are two ways to stand out from others, or to dominate. They can be roughly described as ethical—through strength or power—and aesthetic—through beauty. The first is more associated with the masculine, the second with the feminine. ” I think here we have an example of what C.S. Lewis was talking about when he said that gender is more fundamental reality than organic life.
It may happen that someone wants to take over the entire conversation, to grab attention by force. For example, instead of honestly demonstrating their dancing skills, charisma, or humor, they might display signals of power. They might shout loudly, make sharp, aggressive gestures, or even do a somersault. These are all ways to show that you’re prepared to be aggressive in this competition and are willing to go to great lengths if it comes to violence. This is how you escalate the competition. And the quickest and easiest way to do this is to show off a weapon. Sometimes guys come out displaying a gun holstered on their belt. Throwing money on the dance floor is also an escalation of competition through the “exposure” of one’s wealth and power.
Historically, in the Caucasus, drawing a dagger from its sheath was forbidden, including in such situations, precisely because it signified a sudden escalation. When you display a weapon during a dance, you abruptly focus all attention on yourself. It’s as if you’re saying: even if I don’t deserve something, I’m willing to obtain it through violence. The design of the Caucasian shashka took this rule into account as it differed from, for example, the sabre. The shashka is drawn with a forward motion (not upward, like a sabre), and the strike is delivered at the same pace. Drawing the shashka and the strike are a single motion, with no room for bluffing in between.
Someone who “escalates the situation” can become a more significant person—gaining more authority, more space in the social structure. This is a path through ethics, or through its violation, through a distorted understanding of power and dominance. This way, you can carve out a place for yourself, and this can change your life: connections, status, attention, relationships—to the point where a girl might choose someone who is stronger.
Another aspect of provocative behavior is that the provocateur demonstrates their willingness to push boundaries because they are confident that no one can or will dare to put them in their place. In anthropology, this is called a costly signal. For a signal to be credible, it must be costly or risky, because you risk being expelled.
This disrupts the state of liminality, or uncertain status, and introduces signals from the normal, “stable” state of society, where someone is stronger or richer. This contradicts the fundamental meaning of the entire event. It is an escalation of competition in ethical terms.
There’s another type of escalation, through aesthetics. Here, we can talk about how girls (mostly) express themselves through beauty. They also compete with each other, and dance is their chance to show off and gain attention.
And if this is done meritocratically, when everyone is given a chance, and no one takes all the attention for themselves, then society functions more harmoniously. Then everyone can handle both victory and defeat calmly. Then society remains cohesive, and it maintains a unified identity.
But if someone starts to hog too much attention—as with the guys through weapons or with the girls through excessive displays of beauty—an unfair escalation occurs. There, power was gained through excessive displays of force; here, it’s gained through excessive displays of beauty. It’s a kind of “cheating.” Tension arises: pride on one side, envy on the other. This “rope” stretches and breaks the group. Therefore, those with an advantage must curb their pride, and those with less must curb their envy. Our modern notion that everyone deserves equal conditions would have seemed strange to ancient people. We are all born different, and we live different, very unequal lives. They saw the solution as not trying to make everyone equal but rather not attaching so much importance to someone’s beauty or wealth, including one’s own.
The “most bombing” of the Caucasus
About 15 years ago, videos featuring rich young people dancing called “самые бомбящие Кавказа”, or the most bombing of the Caucasus became exremely popular. It really just meant the coolest of the Caucasus, i.e. the richest and the most beautiful. They exemplified this escalation of competition—the guys through displays of wealth, i.e., power, and the girls through displays of beauty. They “bombed,” that is, they greatly escalated the situation at lovzar. Generally, two narratives can be identified at lovzar, which simulate two narratives in real life. The first is about fair competition without escalation, the second is about excessive displays of power or beauty. These guys were pulling lovzar’s narrative in the second direction. The fact that we agreed with them, judging by the number of views on their videos, speaks poorly of us.
Similar to the rule about unsheathing a blade, there used to be a tradition surrounding the uncovering of a woman’s head and hair. When a woman threw her scarf during a dispute between men, they would stop. This tradition has several interesting aspects.
The fact is, men can fall into a “ladder of escalation” when one signals dominance, and the other doesn’t accept it. They can find themselves in a situation where the only response to each escalation is further escalation, because the one who tries to “calm the situation” ends up losing, unwilling to accept the potential consequences of escalation. One of the functions of a woman removing her headscarf is to allow both sides to escape the situation without losing face, that is, out of respect for her, not out of fear of potential consequences for themselves.
Perhaps not everyone who found themselves in such a situation resorted to this step. Perhaps women, when witnessing a conflict, assessed the participants to determine whether it was worth intervening.
Likewise, men may not have listened to every woman. If a disrespected woman rushed to break up the fight, she might have had her opinion disregarded. The emphasis on removing the headscarf makes one think so. Symbolically, at this moment, she’s doing the same thing they do when their conflict escalates. With each iteration of the escalation, they raise the stakes, demonstrating their readiness to accept the consequences until they go all in. She, too, is placing a bet between them, symbolically putting her “female reputation” on the line. She goes all in and instantly defuses the situation, symbolically sacrificing herself. Therefore, I think it’s important what kind of reputation the woman who did this had; a simple passerby couldn’t have pulled off such an incredible feat. She differs from the “most bombing of the Caucasus” in that she was putting her reputation on the line to de-escalate the situation in order to save other people, and the “most bombing” put their reputation on the line to gain more dominance.
You might get the impression that these interpretations are arbitrary, and there are many possible other ways to interpret all of this. Perhaps, but what seems important to me is that all these aspects of the interpretation fit together to form a coherent picture. In our interpretation, everything is built around organizing fair competition without escalating conflict. This creates a competition where there is room for everyone. Everyone comes out, plays their part, and humbly returns, without hogging all the attention. Some emerge superior, some inferior. And those who are superior don’t boast about it or allow their pride to overcome them. And those who lose don’t allow their envy to overcome them and also come to terms with their position.
A simplified way to look at it is to divide society 50-50 into the more successful and the less successful, even if in reality this isn’t the case and everything is more complex. Symbolically speaking, these more successful 50% establish order in society and define its structure—cities, villages, streets. And then they receive feedback, reflection. When one of the “successful” dances, that is, presents themselves, everyone evaluates them. In life, as in the simplified simulation of life—dance—it’s determined if the current order of things suits everyone, and the top 50% receive positive feedback. If so, the current order will continue for another generation, as women will “choose” them, and they will repeat themselves. If not, and women prefer someone less successful, from the periphery, the order of things can be renewed.
This is a very popular motif in fairy tales, myths, and film. The plot often revolves around a girl choosing between a more successful and a less successful man. The more successful man represents the current order of things, the center and stability, while the less successful man represents liminality, the periphery, and a state of transition, and the girl chooses between them.
The Hero’s Journey into Liminal Space
We may have accumulated enough aspects and layers in our dance, but there’s another one to consider. Fairy tales and myths from different cultures feature recurring motifs. The most frequently recurring male motif in fairy tales and myths is the hero’s journey. He sets out for an unknown place, undergoes a trial, and returns home with new knowledge or valuables. While not quite similar, a frequently recurring female motif is the dance at a ball.
While the hero undergoes a test of strength—confronting a monster, where he usually always emerges victorious—the heroine’s test of “beauty” involves attending a ball, where she usually emerges as the most beautiful. Accordingly, both of these motifs play out simultaneously in the khelkhar. The boy abandons his familiarity and enters a transitional, twilight state to undergo the test. The girl also undergoes her own test, where it is revealed whether she is a princess or a slob, as aunts and stepmothers claim. Both processes are added to the list of everything simulated in the khelkhar.
As I understand it, the khelkhar was an intermediate space where these processes were simulated and orchestrated so that society maintained a sense of belonging and prevented pride and envy from tearing it apart. Through shared participation, people reproduced their identity, allowing each other space to be the center of attention, achieve success, and earn a reputation—either through ethical or aesthetic dominance.
And those guys we started with, the ones standing above and simply watching the dancing—they essentially refuse to participate. Which means they refuse to carry on the identity of this group. And because of this, that cultural identity is under threat.
Image Credit: Sahab Shamilov
