Originally posted to the Yeshe Melong blog by Gregory Zeldovich on November 10, 2025.
On the 10th of August, 1928, almost a century ago, a man named Ivan Markov (or Chukur Markov) wrote a short letter to an unknown recipient from the village of Kysyl, in what is now the Ust-Koksinsky district of the Altai Republic which shares a border with Kazakhstan’s easternmost region, fittingly named “East Kazakhstan”. The letter, compiled in N.V. Ekeev’s seminal 2014 compilation of historical sources on Burkhanism1, was first translated into English by myself on the 5th of November, 2025.
Like many of the figures associated with early Burkhanism, little is known on the details of the author’s life, however some details can be ascertained from the letter. First off, we know that Markov was literate and therefore of privileged status, potentially being from a family of noble birth. Ethnically, he was most likely at least half Altai, as the letter was originally written in Altai (a Russian translation was published alongside it in Ekeev’s compilation) and he was writing from a relatively remote locale which at the time did not have a large ethnic Russian population. However, him having both a native Altai-language first name alongside a Russian one, and him having a Russian last name could point to ethnic Russian heritage from his father’s side. It is impossible to definitively say when Markov was born, but as he is recalling events from 1904-05 in a letter written in 1928, it is possible that he was born in the last two decades of the 1800s or slightly earlier, making him a young adult at the time of Burkhanism’s genesis and middle-aged at the time of writing the letter. The time and manner that Markov died are unknown.
It begins by saying:
They say it’s the “Milk Faith” of Altai. It was initially spoken of in the Kyrlyk area in 1905 (1904 – ed.), when Chet’s daughter, a young girl, was 12 years old. Then, in search of God – Burkan – people began to pray. The ignorant, illiterate people, sticking birch branches into the ground and tying scarves and ribbons to them, saying “Burkan,” began to pray. Feeding on the meat of their own slaughtered livestock, calling it the “Oirot faith,” they began to worship, calling it the “Milk Faith,” and joyfully began to pray. In Kyrlyk, there were more than two thousand of them. Then news of this prayer reached Tsar Nicholas. “The Altai people have found the Oirot faith, they must be disrupted and dispersed,” he said, and sent his officials: a bailiff, a guard, a chief, a constable, and a police officer. These gentlemen, having gathered people from many villages, dispersed the prayer meeting, and imprisoned the girl, the young prophetess, along with her father, Chet. Many other people were also imprisoned in the same way. Then, having plundered those who had been praying, the officials left. Then the people, frightened, returned to their villages.
These few opening words give us a promising and insightful first look. The first sentence, which describes Burkhanism as the “milk faith”2 of Altai, is one of, if not the only attestation of the phrase. This should not come as a surprise as the religion is known as the “white faith”, and in prayers attested to Chet, the founder of Burkhanism mentioned as being imprisoned in the letter, being “milky” is a positive attribute applied to deities such as Ochir Mandi, a variation on the Buddhist Vajrapani. However, ultimately, the name “white faith” won over and this term fell to the historical wayside. The mention of Tsar Nicholas II’s crackdown also shows the late Imperial and Soviet attitudes towards Burkhanism, namely the view of it being a threat to imperial authority, whether monarchist or socialist. These fears were substantiated by the creation of an independent Altai state led by famed painter and Burkhanist Grigorii Choros-Gurkin, which was invaded successively by the white and red armies before being folded into the RSFSR in 1922.
Previously, the people of Uimon had a bad shamanistic faith. During those prayer meetings, the drums were burned. Now there are no shamans in the Uimon valley; there are only the young prophetesses. Then the number of prophetesses multiplied, and they began to pray in the valleys and villages. Saying “Burkan,” they prayed, composing all sorts of songs, speaking words incomprehensible to ordinary people. The black shamans who were beating the drum found (gave birth to) evil spirits. The evil spirit was cursed by the white Burkan, and we ourselves renounced it, we do not speak of evil spirits, we do not follow the path of evil spirits, bloody sacrifices and evil servants of death have been abandoned. The shapeshifters and demons have fled. The god Kurbustan cursed (the evil spirits), (at noon) they worshipped the sun, praying in the direction of the sun. (At night) they worshipped the moon, praying in the direction of the moon. The people who believe in the bright Burkan have an unshakable good destiny, the people who believe in the solar Burkan have a good, undefiled destiny.
This portion provides a basic explanation of the foundational beliefs of Burkhanism and depicts a dualistic worldview based in rejecting the beliefs and practices of earlier Altai shamanism, reminiscent of other Indigenous NRMs across history. The mentioning of the saying of the name “Burkan” as a ritual might show an adaption of the Buddhist practice of Buddhānusmṛti, or “Buddha-mindfulness”, in which the names of Buddhas are repeated in order to cultivate contemplation, or simply the use of repetitive rhythmic actions to achieve the trance states of Siberian shamans. The language of the letter is not clear enough to decidedly say which one of these two hypotheses is correct, but I personally am more convinced of the latter. The use of solar imagery is also consistent with the praise to fire found in Chet’s prayers.
Then the people burned the idols and drums, and, according to the instructions of that girl-shaman, invoking the Burkan, the sun and moon, their native Altai, they planted birch trees, tied banners and ribbons, and began to pray. Inside the yurt, in its front part, they placed two birch trees, tying banners and ribbons in pairs – this is called a “yaik”. They place a round block of wood – this is called a “tagyl”. They put heather on it. On the door side, they place two birch trees, and tie strips of fabric to them – these are called the yellow tandak and the white tandak. They say, “Mistress of Altai – White Tara Burkan, protector and guardian of our people.” There, too, they place a tagyl with heather and also worship. Saying, “The land of the upper reaches of the Katun – the four Sumers2. Our Altai, which holds the foundation,” they worship. They also say: “The foundation (state) of Dörben-Oirot, its four Sumers holding it.”
This is one of the most detailed descriptions of Burkhanist ritual practices that exists. Importantly, it supports the notion that the most important figure in Burkhanism is not Chet, as is traditionally said, but rather his adopted daughter, Chugul. Few, if any of the documented prayers of Burkhanism mention Chet as having any godlike traits, instead, these are reserved for Chugul, who is given the epithet Aky Kegee (Kegee the White) in at least one other prayer and is directly referred to as being thought of the embodiment of white Tara in this very letter. This is one of the only references to white Tara in the corpus of Burkhanist literature, as the main female deity honored is a native Turkic deity called Ot Ene, the “Fire-mother”. This may indicate that early Burkhanism was substantially different from what we know today, being a sort of “Chugulism” based on the veneration of the prophetess as a deity incarnate. This early form of Burkhanism was likely turned to what we now recognize as today’s “Chetism”, which lacks the explicit deification of real-world figures following the incorporation of Altai into the RSFSR and the mandate of state atheism. This change was potentially made to avoid further persecution from Soviet authorities, and may have accompanied a change from referring to it as the “milk faith” to the “white faith”. The “yaik”, whose name may derive from a Turkic term for the Ural river, may be so named in reference to the two banks of said river, but this is not entirely likely. The term “tandak”, according to Atkunova (2023) refers to the sunrise3, morning glow, or the eastern direction. This could show that the ails (yurts) of the original Burkhanists were oriented with the door facing east. The next few sentences are comparatively less interesting describe basic prayer formulas, including those that align with Burkhanism’s origins as a semi-messianic movement centering around the return of the central Asian Oirat state and the ubiquitous tagyl altars that are the literal and metaphorical base of Burkhanism.
They say that in the autumn, during the hunting season, they pray to Altai; tying banners and ribbons, sprinkling milk, they perform a prayer. They say that one can pray to Altai both inside and outside the yurt. The blessings of the shamans of different valleys always differ. If someone learns the words of blessings that are inaccessible to the common person, then they are given a label. Previously, our Altai people, the common people with leather belts (the simple people), about whom the lords knew nothing, did not learn anything; Tsar Nicholas did not teach them anything.
This last part of the letter gives us two important final notes on the practice of the religion. Firstly, by noting that one can pray to Altai either in or out of the yurt hints that this distinction was perhaps relevant in earlier traditions, but by the time of writing had subsided in importance. The other detail worth noting is that his description of the tsar not teaching the people anything shows that Burkhanism was not only seen as being spiritually uplifting as discussed earlier in the letter, but also bettered the material conditions of the people of Altai, potentially including literacy based on the description of giving “labels” to those who did not understand the prayers. Very little is known about these labels aside from the fact that on them, prayers were written in Altai, but it is unknown if it was written in Mongolian script, Cyrillic, or even an indigenous Altai script similar in concept to Agvan Dorzhiev’s Vagindra script for Buryat, but a modified Cyrillic is the most likely candidate for the writing on these labels.
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