U-M specialist discusses the archaeological significance of a diminutive African nation, an essential source of freshwater and pivotal for biodiversity research

Former President Donald Trump remarked that “nobody knows about” Lesotho, the minuscule southern African monarchy that faces reductions in U.S. assistance and risks losing access to the American marketplace.

Archaeologist Brian Stewart from the University of Michigan has conducted extensive research in this nation, investigating the behavioral intricacies of the area’s prior hunter-gatherer populations and how early humans adjusted to its rugged landscapes.

Over the span of 15 visits, Stewart has delved into when and why inhabitants first extensively utilized Lesotho’s mountainous regions, examined how hunter-gatherers modified their diets and technologies to adapt to shifting environmental and social circumstances, identified the exchange of ostrich eggshell beads as a means to strengthen social connections, and illustrated how their spiritual practices mirror their ecological narratives.

In a recent commentary in Nature, Stewart alongside Nthabiseng Mokoena-Mokhali from the National University of Lesotho, Liteboho Senyane from the University of Johannesburg, and Peter Mitchell of the University of Oxford articulated the archaeological relevance of Lesotho.

For those unfamiliar with Lesotho, what are key details about the country?

Lesotho, a nation in southern Africa, is comparable in size to Belgium. It stands out as one of the few fully landlocked sovereign states, entirely encircled by South Africa. The majority of the population consists of southern Sotho or Basotho (singular Masotho) who speak Sesotho, an isiNtu (Bantu) dialect akin to Setswana and Sepedi. Additionally, there are ethnic minorities, including Zulus, Xhosas, and various non-Africans (predominantly Europeans and Asians).

Visitors are often mesmerized by the country’s stunning landscapes—rugged high peaks interlaced with deep valleys featuring caves, waterfalls, and forests. Known as the “mountain kingdom” and the “kingdom in the sky,” Lesotho’s geography is predominantly mountainous. The Maloti (Sesotho for “mountains”) are largely adorned with temperate, grass-like prairies. Moreover, Lesotho holds the record for the highest low point of any nation globally. The eastern border with South Africa sees the abrupt drop of the Maloti, forming the Drakensberg Escarpment, referred to as uKhahlamba or “barrier of spears” by the Zulu, owing to its notable cliffs beneath sharp peaks.

The Maloti experiences some of the highest precipitation levels in southern Africa, with the Orange River, Africa’s largest river south of the Zambezi, originating in the northwestern part of Lesotho. In a largely arid subcontinent, Lesotho thus serves as a crucial freshwater provider—the main export of the nation. Water is pumped from significant hydroelectric dams situated in the highlands across hundreds of air miles into South Africa to support agriculture, mining, and drinking needs for major urban areas like Johannesburg.

As suggested by its monikers, Lesotho functions as a constitutional monarchy. Established in 1824, it was a British protectorate from 1868 until obtaining independence in 1966. Despite enduring colonial oppression, its inhabitants were spared the racist atrocities characterizing South Africa’s Apartheid regime. In fact, Lesotho served as a sanctuary for numerous anti-Apartheid activists and dissidents escaping South Africa during that turbulent period. Lesotho’s interactions with its significantly larger neighbor have occasionally been politically fraught; however, the economies of both nations are intricately connected, and the border is crossed thousands of times daily by individuals conducting business or visiting loved ones, reminiscent of the traffic between the U.S. and Canada.

The Basotho community boasts a rich heritage and dynamic cultural practices for which they take rightful pride. They are particularly renowned for their blankets, which they don in various styles to fend off the cold and rain. Crafted from mohair and merino wool—two of the country’s other prominent exports—these beautifully designed blankets are not only attractive but exceptionally warm. They achieved recent worldwide recognition as key elements of Wakandan attire in the Black Panther film series, where they behaved like force fields that shielded wearers from harm. Given their effectiveness in repelling rain and wind, this depiction holds considerable truth!

Can you elaborate on the work you’ve conducted in Lesotho, and what some of your discoveries have been?

Since 2008, I have been engaging in archaeological investigations in Lesotho, focusing on a series of substantial rock-shelters in the southeastern highlands that contain rich Stone Age deposits. These archaeological timelines are vital as they illuminate the evolution of human ingenuity and resilience over time. It has become evident that our species, Homo sapiens, not only evolved its physical form within Africa, but developed its fundamental adaptive skills—an exceptional ability for behavioral adaptability. This capacity was honed over countless millennia as our ancestors navigated survival and success amidst significant climatic fluctuations.

While southern Africa is crucial to this narrative, most studies have concentrated on coastal and near-coastal areas where food is more abundant and conditions are temperate. Although…

fluctuating ocean levels intermittently revealed and submerged vast expanses of continental shelf and reconfigured the terrain. Collectible marine assets such as shellfish and native plant food sources would have provided reliable alternatives. Their allure indicates these regions would have supported human populations at greater densities compared to inland locations, which were likely utilized less consistently whenever environmental circumstances or human advancements allowed. I am seeking to comprehend the tactics that individuals crafted to thrive in these types of environments, especially in the more formidable inland settings where resources were limited, unevenly distributed and/or more seasonally constrained than those available along the shores.

Highland Lesotho stands as an example of such a location. Much like other high-altitude regions in Africa – the volcanoes of East Africa, the Ethiopian Plateau, or the Atlas Mountains, for instance – the Maloti Mountains act as a temperate, chilly “island” amid a significantly warmer lowland “ocean.” The challenges of mountain life prompt the inquiry of why humans would venture into and choose to dwell in such areas when seemingly more hospitable environments are nearby? Specific resources must have enticed them, and my research aids in identifying what those were, the tactics people employed to acquire them, and how these strategies transitioned over time. One significant attraction was the highlands’ consistent availability of freshwater and the flora and fauna reliant upon it. My findings propose that human habitation of the highlands became more pronounced during times when the adjacent lowlands experienced environmental instability or occasional dryness. During other periods, people seemed to have utilized the highlands in a more opportunistic manner, potentially to access other resources such as premium stone for tool-making, medicinal plants, and seasonal hunting and fishing prospects.

When people were permanent residents of the highlands rather than seasonal travelers, my work also clarifies how they adapted to changing local conditions. The flora in the Maloti is organized in horizontal layers akin to cake layers, with productivity and nutritional value diminishing as one ascends in elevation. The uppermost belts of vegetation consist of nutrient-poor afro-alpine communities that are unappealing to the larger herbivores sought after by human hunters. Currently, afro-alpine habitats in Lesotho exist above 2,100 meters (6,500 feet), but for much of the time early hominins inhabited these areas, the belts were lower due to cooler climatic conditions. An increased coverage of this vegetation in mountainous landscapes would have made finding game animals more challenging, and openings for summer hunting were likely shorter. During periods of extreme cold, humans appeared to switch from hunting large game to targeting riverine fish, which offer a fatty and practically endless resource that can be abundantly harvested using tools like nets, weirs, baskets, and drag screens.

At times, such adjustments were insufficient, and it seems human communities were forced to vacate the highlands for extended periods. The exact destinations they migrated to remain unclear, but my research shows that they established and sustained social networks extending hundreds of kilometers around—to the coast and, conversely, deep into the interior. Modern-day hunter-gatherers maintain such long-distance relationships to ensure they have refuge when challenges arise at home. Recently, I have also begun examining how such occurrences influenced the belief systems of mountain communities and how their spirituality was adapted and utilized to help them manage change.

In your remark for Nature, you note that Lesotho holds archaeological significance in four aspects. Could you elaborate on that here?

Lesotho is archaeologically significant in numerous ways, though we focused on four due to space limitations. The first highlights that Lesotho has yielded transitory but clear evidence for the existence of hominins prior to Homo sapiens. This evidence is manifested in the form of unique stone implements known as handaxes. Teardrop or almond-shaped, these tools were crafted by pre-sapiens species, including Homo erectus and Homo heidelbergensis, throughout a lengthy archaeological epoch known as the Acheulean, which spanned from 1.8 million to 300,000 years ago. Numerous handaxes have been unearthed at elevations surpassing 2,500 meters (7,500 feet), heights at which most individuals encounter altitude sickness (hypoxia). It has long been established that Homo erectus functioned at similar altitudes at the edges of the Ethiopian Plateau as far back as 1.8 million years ago. Although we have yet to establish the ages of Lesotho’s Acheulean sites, the small dimensions of the reported tools imply that most likely correspond to a later phase of this period around or just before the advent of our species roughly 300,000 years ago. This could be understandable as, despite the Maloti being lower in elevation than the Ethiopian Highlands, their position further from the equator results in more distinct seasons, and their severe winters likely posed greater challenges for early hominins.

Our second point regarding Lesotho’s archaeological relevance pertains to the evidence it provides concerning how early members of our species adapted to exist in seasonal mountainous regions. The primary limiting factor for survival in such areas—for plants, animals, and humans alike—is temperature. From this angle, it is intriguing to consider the climatic conditions under which people first permanently occupied the mountains and whether particular technological advancements made that feasible. As merely one example, sewn garments, shelters, and other forms of thermal insulation were probably crucial for enduring the highlands throughout the year, and it is no surprise that the most prevalent stone tools recovered were conducive to leather crafting. This seems accurate even for highland archaeology dating back to 80,000 years ago, and we are actively investigating how much further back the creation of cold-weather leather-working might extend. Shortly, we will be publishing newly acquired data regarding this matter, which contributes to broader discussions surrounding the origins and developmental pathways of sewn clothing on an international scale.

Thirdly, perspectives from Lesotho are crucial to contemporary interpretations of rock art globally. Particularly, declarations from one of the final hunter-gatherers in the area during the nineteenth century offer the only direct account of the meaning behind San (Bushman) rock paintings by an individual who created them. Nonetheless, the true importance of these declarations was not recognized until a century later when rock art scholars in the 1970s began to establish connections with the growing collection of ethnography documenting rituals conducted by Kalahari San communities, especially the trance dance. Formerly ambiguous statements referencing death, nosebleeds, rhythmic movements, healing, charm medicine, elands, being ‘spoiled,’ rain animals, and submersion, when observed from an ethnographic viewpoint, evoked the actions and experiences of Kalahari shamans in trance states. Importantly, they also strongly aligned with a remarkable variety of motifs frequently illustrated in the rock art. By triangulating these three elements—the Lesotho testimony, Kalahari ethnography, and rock art—a shamanistic interpretation of the art was established, which today remains the most impactful framework in southern African and global rock art studies.

Our fourth and concluding point pertains to the very essence of Lesotho as a sovereign state. The beginnings of Lesotho are linked to the actions of a strategic southern Sotho monarch named Moshoeshoe I. During the Lifaqane, a time of significant political and social disruption that persisted throughout much of the mid-nineteenth century, Moshoeshoe established what would evolve into a powerful state with a significant military through adept alliance formation. From his initial residence in what is now northern Lesotho, he guided his varied populace, many of whom had been uprooted by extensive conflicts, southward to the western lowlands where he established his court on a fortified mountain called Thaba Bosiu. There, the nascent nation faced repeated assaults over many years, including incursions by colonial forces. Moshoeshoe and his warriors conquered the Boers and the British numerous times, gaining a reputation for being invincible. However, the Boers continued to encroach, seizing vast areas of the southern Sotho’s territory. On the brink of a final conflict in 1867, which Moshoeshoe believed he would lose, he sought assistance from the British, leading to Lesotho becoming a British protectorate, as previously noted. Thus, Lesotho’s early narrative is an inspiring tale of Indigenous empowerment and resistance against colonial invasion.

Does your work entail collaboration with local archaeologists and researchers? If so, could you elaborate on the significance of those partnerships?

Indeed. Establishing collaborations with local archaeologists and aiding Lesotho in developing its heritage infrastructure are both key priorities for me. For many years, archaeology in Lesotho, similar to many non-Western nations, was predominantly practiced by foreign archaeologists. When local individuals participated in fieldwork, it was often in unskilled roles assisting with relatively basic tasks such as sediment screening or sorting artifacts into separate categories. This shifted in the early 2010s when colleagues from the University of Oxford, engaged in extensive salvage excavations before the construction of a hydroelectric dam called Metolong in lowland Lesotho, trained several individuals from nearby communities in archaeological field methodologies. They adapted remarkably well, and after spending two years on that project working across diverse sites spanning 60,000 years of human history, they evolved into a highly proficient team of Basotho field technicians.

Subsequent archaeological endeavors began to engage them, including my own. For instance, team members collaborated with me on various University of Michigan seasons at Sehonghong (2013-2016) and Ha Soloja rock-shelters (2019-2024), both located in the southeastern highlands. Those projects involved excavating intricate stratigraphies dating from 30,000 to over 100,000 years ago. In 2014–2015, they contributed to a project led by Wits University in South Africa to gather field data for a proposal to designate Sehlabathebe National Park, one of the two parks in Lesotho, as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Within the park, they professionally cataloged over 100 rock art and surface archaeological sites for the proposal, which ultimately succeeded. From 2018 to 2023, they participated in another significant dam project called Polihali in the northeastern highlands, excavating dozens of rock-shelter sites that span the last 10,000 years. Through these and other initiatives, this team has accumulated over fifteen years of fieldwork experience in various contexts, establishing them as some of the most skilled and sought-after archaeological field technicians in southern Africa.

Lesotho’s inaugural archaeology professor and the principal author of our commentary in Nature is Dr. Nthabiseng Mokoena-Mokhali. An expert in historical archaeology and heritage studies, she began her tenure at the National University of Lesotho in 2016. Since then, she has been educating the country’s first cohort of archaeology undergraduates, several of whom have joined my excavations in the southeastern highlands. One of her former students, another Masotho archaeologist named Nthabeleng Rantso, has become a crucial part of my team and was recently accepted into the PhD program at the University of Toronto to collaborate with my project co-director, Dr. Genevieve Dewar. For her dissertation, she will employ cutting-edge geoarchaeological techniques to examine the complex interactions of cultural and natural influences that led to the formation of the extensive sequence we are currently unearthing at Ha Soloja near Sehlabathebe. It is exhilarating to witness Lesotho’s emerging heritage sector expanding on various levels, increasingly with local professionals at the forefront.

Lastly, I am working to enhance awareness regarding the significance of heritage resources among local communities of non-archaeologists while simultaneously making those resources more accessible and better preserved. For example, Lesotho’s stunning rock art is rapidly vanishing, as natural weathering processes are expedited by vandalism. Initiatives to promote heritage have understandably focused on areas affected by hydroelectric dams, but ultimately, large-scale development endeavors like dams significantly disrupt local communities, settlements, and landscapes. In the meantime, tourism remains largely disconnected from heritage and archaeology, instead concentrating on Lesotho’s natural beauty. Since 2018, I have been establishing the groundwork for the creation and implementation of a financially viable ecomuseum in the highland Lesotho’s Sehlabathebe area. Ecomuseums are community-driven initiatives with a regional emphasis that celebrate, conserve, and enhance heritage that is tangible, like archaeology, and intangible, such as living cultural traditions. The Sehlabathebe ecomuseum aims to create an ecotourism horse-trekking and hiking path that connects a network of significant cultural and natural sites, including Sehlabathebe National Park. Its ultimate objective is to safeguard this region’s incredibly rich and threatened heritage while promoting economic development through sustainable tourism and creating job opportunities.