Dragon Boat Races Are Loud, Fast and Rooted in Ancient Ritual

During China’s Dragon Boat Festival (Duanwu Jie), teams of rowers compete in long, narrow canoe-like vessels carved to look like serpents while revelers eat sticky-rice balls known as zongzi. It’s a vibrant spectacle celebrated throughout China and, increasingly, in competitive events around the globe. But dragon boat racing’s likely roots—as ritual, entertainment, memorial and even military exercise—date back thousands of years. 

Here’s a look at the festival’s competing origin stories, and how dragon boat racing has evolved over time.

Some early forms of dragon boat racing may have started as rites to ensure a good harvest, perhaps by ending drought conditions. Beginning as early as the Shang dynasty (1600–1046 B.C.), write Lihui Yang and Deming An in Handbook of Chinese Mythology, communities performed rain-invoking ceremonies devoted to the dragon—one of Chinese culture’s most important mythical creatures, believed to govern rain, rivers and seas.

Another theory suggests that dragon boat racing was designed to dispel evil and promote health and good fortune. The timing of the festival—held on the “Double Five” date, the fifth day of the fifth month of the Chinese lunar calendar—may reflect an effort to confront a period traditionally viewed as dangerous. Folk beliefs cast the number five (五) as unlucky, given its similarity to the character wu (午)—the yin-yang midpoint, when the body was thought to be at its most vulnerable, explains Erin Thomason, a researcher with a Ph.D. in anthropology from the University of California, Los Angeles.

Common rituals still practiced during the Dragon Boat Festival today include wearing sachets filled with minerals and fragrant herbs, a measure believed to prevent misfortune.

The most enduring dragon boat origin story involves the tale of Qu Yuan, a much-revered ancient Chinese poet and statesman. An advisor to King Huai of Chu during the Warring States period (475–221 B.C.), Qu Yuan was exiled for proposing a strategic alliance to counter an impending invasion. After his predictions came true with the king’s capture (and ultimate death in captivity), Qu Yuan took his own life by jumping into the Miluo River—an act of ultimate loyalty to his sovereign.

“People from all around then set out in their boats to try and save him. Failing that, they threw offerings of rice into the river to placate river spirits,” says Stephen Lee Field, professor of Chinese language and literature at Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas. In his poetry, Qu Yuan himself writes often about throwing offerings into rivers to summon spirits, Field says. 

“These offerings are the origin of zongzi, the glutinous rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves and steamed, which are traditionally eaten during the Dragon Boat Festival,” he explains.

But while the legend of Qu Yuan explains the origins of zongzi, Field acknowledges that the origins of the races themselves can’t be definitively pinpointed. “What makes the most sense is that the festival mimics a religious ritual—perhaps with boats adorned like dragons to transport priests and worshipers to a sacrifice.”

Yet another theory suggests that dragon boat races originated as military exercises. While historically, China’s biggest naval campaigns involved massive armadas of large, slow-moving ships, rival warlords often skirmished in battles with much smaller—and faster—longboats, says Andrew Chittick, professor of East Asian humanities and history at Florida’s Eckerd College. 

Between the fall of the Han Dynasty (A.D. 220) and the founding of the Tang Dynasty (A.D. 618), an important component of training for these engagements involved small-boat races called jingdu (“competing to cross”). Some of the earliest recorded of these were held in the river towns of Hubei, home to poet Qu Yuan’s state of Chu. “That’s part of the reason why literate elites, almost none of whom were from that region, linked the races to him,” Chittick says.

There’s even a record of a race held on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month in the sixth century, Chittick notes. These competitions, by their show of force, he suggests, may also have served to frighten demonic entities—an interpretation aligned with the idea of the festival’s role as a protection against evil.

Boat racing subsequently evolved into a form of lavish entertainment for Tang-era emperors and their courtiers, featuring elaborately adorned vessels. By the time of the Song dynasty (960-1279 A.D.), boat races merged elements of both military might and spectacle. Military reviews featured boat racing alongside music, dance and theatrical performance—with the dragon eventually adopted into the races as a symbol of imperial authority, Chittick notes.

Over the centuries, dragon boat racing events have crystallized into elaborate, formal celebrations that carry into the present day. One such event—the Qintong Boat Festival, which traces its origins back to the Song era—attracts roughly 300,000 visitors annually to eastern China’s Jiangsu province to watch hundreds of dragon boats compete alongside theatrical performances, and dragon and lion dances.

As Chinese diaspora communities established themselves in Southeast Asia, North America and Europe, they also carried their dragon boat festival traditions with them. Major dragon boat races are now held in Singapore, New York, Vancouver and London—along with plenty of zongzi eating.

In recent decades, dragon boat racing has also developed into a major global sport. The International Dragon Boat Federation (IDBF), established in 1991, holds the World Dragon Boat Racing Championships; more than 60 countries have official dragon boat governing bodies; and dragon boat racing premiered as a demonstration event at the 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo. 

While its ancient roots remain debated, its global rise is undisputed.