For the past 15 years, master bow-maker Samat Suyorkulov has dedicated himself to preserving the ancestral art of traditional bow and arrow making in Kyrgyzstan. Now 50 years old, he has rekindled a childhood passion and currently teaches traditional archery at Kyrgyzstan-Turkey Manas University. After years of researching ancient Turkic and Kyrgyz bows, Suyorkulov now crafts these historic weapons by blending age-old designs with modern technology. Interestingly, despite holding a degree from the Faculty of Theology at Osh State University, he actually spent much of his life working as a chef.
A Childhood Curiosity
His fascination with archery started young. “I used to ask my grandmother how bows were made,” he recalls. “Since she didn’t know much about it, she’d just tell me they were made from willow branches, so I tried making them out of willow myself. Out of all the kids, the bows I made always shot the furthest and performed the best. I even tried crafting arrowheads out of bones, nails, and whatever materials I could find.”
As he grew older, life took him in different directions. “I kept busy with household responsibilities, studied theology, and eventually got married. For a long time, I just didn’t have the time to focus on bows,” he explains. “Even though I finished my theology degree, I never actually worked in the field. I had loved cooking since I was a kid, which is how I ended up working as a chef.”
The Search for Lost History
It wasn’t until he was 33 that Suyorkulov finally returned to his true passion. He initially signed up for sport archery courses but quickly realized he had no interest in modern equipment. Instead, he wanted to uncover the traditional bow-making techniques of his ancestors.
“I wanted to learn exactly how they made them. I asked the elders, but I couldn’t gather enough information,” he notes. “I did research online and visited museums, but unfortunately, I couldn’t find a single fully preserved traditional bow on display.”
He points out that the bone fragments and arrow remains occasionally unearthed during archaeological digs are largely believed to belong to ancient Hun bows. “Because these weapons were crafted from organic materials like horn, wood, and horse tendon, they simply decayed over time. Only the bone fragments have survived,” he explains. “As far as I know, the Kyrgyz used Hun-style bows until the 10th century, after which the design evolved.”
During his research, he also discovered that Manchu bows—historically used by the ancient Chinese, Buryats, and other Asian cultures—were being kept in museum storage facilities. He realized that the Kyrgyz people likely used very similar bows throughout the 13th and 14th centuries.
Trial, Error, and Mastery
Armed with this historical knowledge, Suyorkulov built his first proper bow around 2014 or 2015. “For that first attempt, I used pine wood, horn, and horse tendon. But after a while, cracks started to appear, and I realized pine was the wrong choice,” he admits. “I later restored that bow and donated it to the National Museum, where it’s currently on display.”
He didn’t let the setback stop him. He kept digging into traditional techniques, eventually studying Korean and Chinese methods as well. “Korean bows are crafted from bamboo, while Chinese manufacturing techniques closely mirror the methods our own ancestors used,” he observes.
He also highlights the stark contrast between ancient craftsmanship and modern production. While historical bows relied entirely on horn, tendon, and wood, today’s replicas often utilize fiberglass and advanced adhesives. “Traditional-style bows made with modern materials hold up much better against water and freezing weather,” he notes. “The genuine older bows were highly sensitive to moisture and required constant upkeep.”
“While People Were Buying Houses…”
For years, Suyorkulov juggled his demanding job as a chef to support his family while dedicating all his free time to his craft. It wasn’t an easy path.
“While other people were out buying houses and cars, I was pouring everything into researching bows,” he recalls. “At first, my wife and family just didn’t understand it. But I kept going. Looking back now, I don’t have a single regret. I truly believe I’ve helped revive an art form that was on the verge of being completely forgotten.”
He feels strongly that the Kyrgyz people have been disconnected from their own martial history. “There are barely any shields, bows, or swords left in our museums today. The vast majority of those artifacts were taken abroad years ago,” he laments.
By 2016, his craftsmanship had reached a new level, and his creations began to closely mirror genuine historical artifacts. Today, his repertoire includes Hun, Korean, Turkish, and Manchu-style bows.
During a trip to Kahramanmaraş, Turkey, that same year, he realized the true financial value of his work. “I saw certain handmade bows selling for over $5,000. I ended up selling one of mine for $1,400 and another for $500,” he says.
This high valuation reflects the immense patience the craft requires. “If you have the materials ready, you can make a traditional English longbow in a matter of hours. But using the methods of our ancestors? That takes anywhere from six months to a full year,” he explains. “Once you attach the horn and tendon to the wood, the bow simply has to sit and cure for a very long time.”
To date, Suyorkulov has crafted 14 full traditional bows. Two of them broke during the delicate curing process, and he has generously given most of the others away as gifts.
Passing the Torch to a New Generation
For a long time, archery was viewed as little more than a casual game in Kyrgyzstan. Recently, however, traditional archery has seen a massive surge in popularity—a cultural shift Suyorkulov has directly influenced.
Four years ago, he pitched a proposal to Kyrgyzstan-Turkey Manas University to introduce formal traditional archery training. The university embraced the idea, launching the first-ever traditional archery courses in the country.
“Interest is growing every single day, and you can see a real national awareness awakening among the people,” he says proudly. “It’s our duty to pass this ancestral heritage down to the next generation. We have to know our history well. We devote our time to this work because if we don’t step up and do it, no one else will. It’s purely a matter of patriotism.”
Beyond cultural preservation, Suyorkulov emphasizes the profound personal benefits of the sport, especially for youth. “Archery teaches children how to set clear goals. Kids who start early grow up to be calmer, more balanced, and highly disciplined,” he explains. “Physically, it’s also an incredibly beneficial sport.”
Today, his classes at Manas University are packed, notably drawing a large number of female students. Thanks to these grassroots efforts, Kyrgyz archers are even beginning to make their mark in international competitions.
As Suyorkulov notes with a smile, the appeal of the bow spans generations: “We have people ranging from five-year-old kids all the way up to 70-year-olds who are just entirely captivated by archery.”