Zam, the Land of the Earth
Flowing from Land to Place through Kariz, Water, and Time


دیگران‭ ‬کاشتند‭ ‬ما‭ ‬خوردیم‭ ‬ما‭ ‬میکاریم،‭ ‬دیگران‭ ‬بخورند
digarān kāshtand, mā khordim; mā mikārim, digarān bekhorand.
‘Others planted, we use; We plant, others will use.’
- Iranian saying


Mazar Garden, Torbat-e Jam, Iran


Over time, humans have narrated stories and myths to connect with their environment. They blended water and soil, managed water systems, reshaped the land to support flourishing plants, and organized the first cities. They attempted to measure distances and locate places on maps—from symbolic older maps to detailed modern representations—in order to gain a sense of, interact with, and relate to the land they live on.

With plenty of vast plains, land scarcity has rarely been a concern in the central and eastern parts of Iran. However, water has always been a valuable resource. Looking at the settlements of the Iranian Plateau from above with the help of satellite imagery, a viewer can make out dots in a row that follow each other for many kilometers. These footprints are called kariz (kāriz) or qanat in Farsi, an ancient technology that nourished human civilization in this arid land. Kariz is a water management system of tapping alluvial aquifers at the heads of valleys and conducting the water along underground tunnels by gravity. Kariz is an outstanding example of a technological ensemble that illustrates significant stages in the history of human land occupation and not only supported cities and agriculture, but also inspired a unique way of interacting with the land. In recognition of this cultural tradition, the Persian Qanat is on the list of UNESCO World Heritage sites.

Kariz was developed as a particular cultural, environmental, and social approach to land utilization, and people in these regions came to perceive the land in the same way they see kariz. In arid and semi-arid locations, the amount of water delivered by kariz defines the extent and limits of land usage for agriculture or urban development, rather than the available land area. Climate factors determine how much water kariz can supply, preventing the extraction of more than the environment's capability. People who live around kariz define the land by water infrastructure to establish a way of ensuring a sustainable water supply.

Kariz in Iran is a product of collective planning. Households that settle next to a kariz system collaborate and cooperate throughout decision-making, construction, management, and preservation of the system and become shareholders in the water it produces. Water distribution is managed in accordance with specified cycles that calculate how much water each shareholder uses. For example, a shareholder has five hours’ worth of kariz water and so forth. Land ownership is determined by kariz water ownership. Shareholders of kariz water own a plot of land that they use both individually and collectively. This then allows for the use of the land for agriculture, urban development, public services, and public spaces. It is an attempt to devise an equitable water sharing and land use system based on strong cultural and social cooperation.

In these regions, people were unable to accumulate and reserve a considerable amount of water. Kariz was a system that operated collectively. Its water was constantly flowing, making it hard to determine how much water every shareholder used. Since time is always passing and cannot be accumulated, it served as a measuring tool for achieving an equitable method of water sharing. Time became key to the perception of water and the land. Even though there was an abundance of land, it was not seen as a resource for accumulation and extensive use. Instead, the water was used to develop reservoirs, mills, irrigation systems, and gardens.

The foundations of kariz rest on environmental considerations and social collaboration, inspiring people to think of the land as a platform for the accumulation of knowledge, culture, and social connections. With this perspective, the land gradually transformed from a means of production, capital, and consumption to a place for public infrastructure. Then it was elevated to become a public urban space, a place to connect people and create a strong sense of belonging and history. The land was transformed into a place that represents cultural and social values for the present and future.

Time became key to the perception of water and the land.
Torbat-e Jām, my hometown in Khorasan province and a continual source of personal inspiration, was once known as Zam (Zām). In Iranian ancient myths, Zam means the land and is the name of the god of the land (Izad-e Zamin). In old Farsi, Zamyad (Zāmyād) means the god of the land. It is an example of a city that was developed with a kariz system named Karizak. City residents were shareholders of Karizak and besides agriculture, they shared kariz water to help the city grow by contributing their portion of kariz water to the city's public infrastructure, such as public bathhouses (Hammām) and drinking water storage (Āb Anbār). They also developed public urban spaces. Karizak shareholders preserved Torbat-e Jam’s Mazar Garden (Bāgh-e Mazār), a public garden in Sheikh Ahmad-e Jām mausoleum complex that features structures from the 13th to 19th centuries, including Sheikh-e Jām's tomb, domes, mosques, water storage, and a Persian Garden. Through collaborative decision-making and management, all Karizak shareholders dedicated a portion of hours of kariz water to the maintenance of the Mazar Garden, a public open space used for collective and cultural events in the city. There is a saying in Iranian culture that ‘Others planted, we use; We plant, others will use.’ Kariz had a significant role in shaping this perspective, and the Mazar Garden is a beautiful example of it.
A plot of land is more than just a plot of land [...]
Since I was a child, walking through Mazar Garden has always felt mystical to me. It fascinates me that people can have a strong sense of belonging to an urban public space while actively contributing to its creation. Growing up around the kariz has inspired me to believe that achieving collaborative decision-making, planning, and place-making can be difficult but possible. And as an urban planner, I need to consider many factors during the planning process, including environmental, social, and cultural values, financial and infrastructure capacities, the past and future, and so on. A plot of land is more than just a plot of land; it contains many different layers that, if neglected, might result in irreversible consequences.

Unfortunately, the Karizak in Torbat-e Jām is no longer functional after critical damage, and it seems that as the water supply system of kariz has been damaged, the cultural, environmental, and social values it embodies have been forgotten too. This topic has recently preoccupied me in the midst of an ongoing dispute in Iran on government land and urban development policy. While one approach favors urban expansion without restriction across the country’s vast amount of land, critics argue that many factors should be considered in development. The damage to the Karizak is caused by government intervention into the collective and local process of land transformation and water management, including through the construction of deep wells on the conducting water line of the Karizak without complying with its protective buffer zone and top-down land use and urban planning that does not consider the city’s people or local culture.

Even though various institutions, such as the Cultural Heritage, Tourism and Handicrafts Organization, the municipality and city council, and the Mazar management unit are now responsible for maintaining the Mazar Garden and more resources and new technology are available, the garden’s quality of maintenance and collective management have declined alongside its cultural and social role in the city. The city is struggling with environmental challenges, lack of lively urban spaces, and a decline of social bonds. Kariz has played a crucial role in shaping the way of thinking about land and place in these regions, and its disappearance has had a significant detrimental impact on cities and the environment. The water supply system of kariz may be demolished, but its cultural and environmental values ​​can still nourish the city if revived.

I hope that one day Zam will find itself in the flow of time, water, city, and people's culture, as it was and as it should be.