1 July 2019

Retracing the Silk Road



Clay camel figurine purchased/found by Marc Aurel Stein at Yotkan, Khotan


I’ve long been fascinated by ancient history, although for many years my interest in archaeology was very much centred upon Europe, Egypt, and Central and South America. It was only when I began working at the British Museum that I first properly encountered the ancient history of Central Asia. This, along with my later decision to return to university, specialising in the history of western explorers in the region during the early twentieth century, spurred me to delve a little deeper into the art and archaeology of this fascinating region. I have been lucky enough to handle extremely fragile paintings on silk from Dunhuang, and ancient ceramics, such as the enchanting models of camels from Khotan, acquired by Marc Aurel Stein which are now part of the BM’s collection in some of the exhibitions I’ve taken to Asia, Europe, and America, as well as seeing similar collections in other museums, most notably in the National Museum in New Delhi. There is no shortage of books on the history of the Silk Road and its modern exploration, but below I review three relatively recently published books on this subject which really struck a chord with my imagination.



THE SILK ROAD: A NEW HISTORY
By Valerie Hansen
(Oxford University Press, 2012)

The Silk Road is a concept which is as evocative and enticing as it sounds. All the allure of the East is there, it speaks to the imagination; it speaks of luxury and travel, of distant riches and far away lands. An air of mystery and romance permeates its tales of treacherous deserts of shifting sands, of oasis towns with merchants selling silk and spices; an ancient road trodden by countless and nameless travellers - soldiers, monks, bandits, and traders - all plying their wares, trading their ideas, their languages and religious beliefs, a long and cosmopolitan exchange of cultures between the East and the West, from the Celestial Empire of China to the ancient heart of Imperial Rome. But, in reality, the phrase 'the Silk Road' only came into common parlance relatively recently ...

As Valerie Hansen outlines in the introduction to her 'new history' of the Silk Road, the term was first coined by Baron Ferdinand von Richthofen in 1877. Certainly the existence of a network of interconnected trade routes had long existed, and long been known about - one only has to think of the famous travel account of the Renaissance traveller, Marco Polo for one example - yet Von Richthofen was the first academic geographer to write about it using sources taken from both ancient China as well as classical geographers, such as Ptolemy and Marinus.

The Silk Road, Hansen explains, was in essence a "non-road" in that it was shifting network of unmarked paths which joined the dots of trader towns and military outposts which stretched out across the parched deserts of Central Asia. Arguably the Silk Road also had a longer sea lane to the south, which might even have been traversed more quickly than the overland route in its day - but again, the idea of a lone merchant making the whole journey from Rome or Constantinople to Chang'an or Xi'an on foot is a misconception. As Hansen demonstrates it's far more likely that individuals would simply have plied the routes from their own town to the next in the chain and then back again; thus it was the commodities and goods which would have accrued the mileage, passing from trader to trader, from hand to hand. And the idea of 'silk' too is probably as much of a misnomer as the singular 'road' - for in reality many types of goods besides silk would have been exchanged along these routes - chemicals, spices, metals, leather, other kinds of fabric, glass, precious stones and paper would all have found their way through the markets and bazaars of the Central Asian heartlands. Remarkably enough, ammonium chloride featured high on the cargo manifests of many traders because it was commonly used as a flux for manufacturing metals and also in the curing process for leather, hence it was a commodity in high demand. But it is paper which is most central to Hansen's history, and it is paper which gives us a much clearer picture of what life must have been like for these traders and travellers of the distant past.

The dry conditions of many of these long abandoned sites which Hansen examines - from Samarkand in the West to Chang'an in the East - has helped to preserve a wealth of documentary detail. Paper was a valuable commodity - such that it was never really thrown away, even when official documents were no longer of use they were often sold as scrap and recycled, for instance being turned into garments for the dead or to make insoles for shoes. In some places, perhaps most famously at Dunhuang caches of documents were carefully deposited, sealed up in caves where they remained undiscovered for thousands of years, until Western adventurers and archaeologists came across them in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It is the throw away contents of many of these documents which many modern day researchers have painstakingly pieced together which really flesh out the bare bones of these archaeological sites, making Hansen's account such a fascinating read.

Each chapter focuses on a different site along the route from West to East, beginning with the oasis kingdom of Kroraina, which flourished between 200 BCE and 400 CE. Texts in Chinese and Indian scripts from this area attest to the sustained cultural exchange with the Gandhara region of modern day Afghanistan and Pakistan. The following chapters look at places such as the Buddhist kingdom of Kucha, tracing the spread of Buddhism to China after it was first introduced into Central Asia. Similarly, looking at the history of Turfan, Hansen follows the influence of the Sogdians and other Iranian cultures, with the spread of Zoroastrianism and Manicheism. Islam follows on with the Karakhanid conquest of Khotan in the eleventh century. The ebb and flow of these cultures in terms of political control and military presence shaped these regions in distinct ways over the course of centuries, and the book strives to illustrate this vast complexity through a wealth of archaeological, textual and philological detail with an insightful imagination that really brings this ancient past vividly to life for the reader. It's an excellent and accomplished survey of the current thought and most recent discoveries in Silk Road studies.


TRACES IN THE DESERT: JOURNEYS OF DISCOVERY IN CENTRAL ASIA
By Christoph Baumer
(I.B.Tauris, 2008)

Following in the footsteps of his boyhood heroes, Sven Hedin (who was an acquaintance of his mother) and Marc Aurel Stein, Christoph Baumer's intrepid memoir recounts a number of diverse journeys made over many years to study the ancient sites of Central Asia. The lack of knowledge regarding many of these ancient sites even today is due to the extreme remoteness and inhospitable environments in which they are located. Hence, in the Taklamakan desert, Baumer occasionally finds himself the first European since Stein and Hedin to visit some of the sites which they first documented almost 100 years before. Managing to piece together information from their original accounts, he records how many of the sites have weathered or changed with the intervening decades, even making a number of important archaeological discoveries of his own, adding to and informing in greater depth the researches begun by his heroes.

Many of the journeys Baumer makes are arduous in the extreme, yet the efforts of travel in such remote regions are full of rewards which Baumer relishes to the full. Discovering a room full of bronze coins, uncovering buried murals which attest to different religions living side-by-side, or identifying the remains of a previously unknown military watchtower, Baumer excels at recounting the twin histories of the ancient cultures of the 'Silk Road' trade routes as well as their subsequent academic discovery and exploration in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Yet the book isn't just about long dead cultures, Baumer also finds colour in the lives of those communities living in these regions today. He describes the people he meets along the way, examining the extant rituals and customs, such as the pilgrimage or 'kora' around the sacred peak of Mount Kailash, which intimately connects them back to the cultures of their ancestors. I was somewhat perturbed though to read that Baumer was twice confronted by armed bandits (who seemed to be in cahoots with the local Police) on a road not too far from a place where I myself travelled only a few years ago! ... Yet whilst these tough conditions and hostile climates often cause extreme discomfort, as he and his travelling companions (and their camels) struggle with thirst, mechanical failures, extremes of heat and cold, bureaucratic paperwork and corrupt officials, or battle with ferocious sandstorms which in a matter of hours totally redefine the topography of the landscape around them, and, on one occasion, even suffering the ignominious irony of almost drowning in the desert, the magnificent sight of the Milky Way stretching across the clear desert night sky far from the light pollution of any human habitation prompts quite a lyrical and philosophically profound sense of personal reflection.

This book is a fascinating read for anyone interested in ancient history and archaeology in remote locations, it sits firmly in a grand tradition of adventurous travel narratives, like those of Hedin and Stein before him. Baumer himself is a very engaging academic, wholly enthused by his research and the Central Asia region, both past and present. I've heard him speak on his archaeological fieldwork at the Royal Asiatic Society in London, and, as such, this book certainly provides an excellent and personable introduction to the man and his work for both specialists and lay-readers alike.
 
LIFE ALONG THE SILK ROAD
By Susan Whitfield
(Second Edition: University of California Press, 2015)

This is a beautifully evocative book, and one somewhat of a novelty in terms of its originality. It is an astoundingly accomplished and erudite work, firmly grounded in results of present day scholarship, informed by the most in-depth of academic studies, but it translates this often dry and rather fusty scientific data into the living, breathing recreation of a fully realised world. A world which once existed, but one which is so remote and removed from our own that it repays an imaginative retelling – which is exactly what Susan Whitfield has expertly done in the pages of this excellent book.

Through a series of twelve ‘tales’ she reanimates for the reader the world, or worlds, of the communities of the Central Asian Silk Road network – enabling us to inhabit and comprehend this long period from the point of view of certain particular individuals. A shipmaster, a merchant, a soldier, a princess, a pilgrim, an official, a widow, and an artist, are just some of the personas brought to life in these pages. Each tale illuminates different facets of this complex, sophisticated, and deeply interrelated world – its politics, its economics, its religion, its wars, its administration, its hardships, and its joys. Yet Susan Whitfield does so in a manner which is both skilful and deft. The fictional element is lightly nuanced, such that it never over-shadows the historical facts it sets out to illuminate; grounded as it is in a deeply museological understanding of the past, the book adds life to the inanimate remnants from which this jigsaw puzzle of a world has been recovered and pieced back together. As such, it is well worth reading this book in tandem with Valerie Hansen’s The Silk Road: A New History.

Whitfield’s own line drawings are used to illustrate the text which adds a wonderfully personal touch to her tales – one can’t help imagining her immersed in copying these motifs over many years of in-depth study, mulling over the lives of those long gone characters who created such artworks and in turn helping to inform her own imaginative interpretations; it is this personal element, something so rarely shared, which undoubtedly belies all academic enquiries into, and speculations about, the lives of those individuals who once peopled the past.

Susan Whitfield’s expertise derives from a career devoted to the study of this region and its material culture. Until quite recently she was in charge of the International Dunhuang Project (IDP) at the British Library. The IDP is a fascinating and dynamic network of academics drawn from institutions across the globe, all collaborating together to present, interpret, and make publicly available access to hundreds of thousands of manuscripts, paintings, and artefacts from the eastern regions of the Silk Road. The IDP’s website and regular newsletters are essential reading for anyone with a genuine curiosity and interest in the ancient history of Central Asia, its academic rediscovery in the early twentieth century, and its continuing exploration in our present day (see here).


A drawing of a Buddha, from Dunhuang, c. 926-975




THE SILK ROADS: A NEW HISTORY OF THE WORLD
by Peter Frankopan
(Bloomsbury, 2015) 

Eminently well written with all the narrative pizzazz typical of a modern TV documentary series. The academic verve and elan of Peter Frankopan's "mega biblion" is undoubtedly enthralling, it has been a huge bestseller - one of those rare history books which somehow hits the zeitgeist of their times and so strikes a chord that resonates with a large audience. I've long since lost count of how many people I've seen engrossed in reading it on the London Tube.

The book's hot new take is essentially a modernisation of Halford Mackinder's Central Asian 'heartland thesis', updated as such to show how the globalist efforts of the main western imperialist powers (Britain, Russia/USSR, & USA) from the late 18th to early 21st centuries, bedded in the sequential context of the empires (Abbasid, Mongol, Mughal, etc.) of the preceding centuries, have royally messed with the politics and polities of the region of Central Asia since time immemorial - the consequences of which are still very much alive and in play today. The subtitle therefore clearly underlines that notion of Mackinder's that the world is controlled by what happens at its geographical core (i.e. - the heartlands of Central Asia, or, as Frankopan prefers to call them, "the Silk Roads").

In many senses it is a global history. Very admirably, the book attempts to move away from the traditional Eurocentric views of imperialist history, but it can't entirely escape the immense gravitational pull of that well established historiographical tradition. It's not really a history of the whole world as such, in that vast chunks of the globe don't feature or simply get the occasional, fleeting mention (e.g. - much of South America, Australasia, Canada, etc.). And some large events are mentioned almost peripherally (e.g. - the Opium Wars, which are covered in a couple of sentences in a single paragraph) - but that's all part and parcel of the inescapable nature of such 'grand narratives'. It's a big book. To cover everything in equal detail would make it an even bigger one! - Hence Frankopan, like any historian, has had to weigh up and decide what to foreground and what to gloss, as well as what to leave to one side or to leave out altogether, dependent on his overarching theme; which in this case is the Central Asian heartland. The subtitle therefore somewhat over-promises on what is to be found in the pages between these two gorgeously decorated covers.

On the whole though, The Silk Roads does strike a credible (and creditable) balance between the scope of its limitations and its enormous ambition. To synthesize, make sense of, and to carry the main thread of its narrative argument across such a vast expanse of both time and territory (both physical and academic) is no mean feat. As a popular history, grounded in a "very current" area of academic interest, it is certainly an engaging and accessible, thought-provoking book. One which offers a fresh (or refreshed) angle for many readers of both general and specialist audiences alike.






Also on ‘Waymarks’







1 comment:

  1. Fascinating - I never knew the name Silk Road wasn't coined until 1877. It's been evocative branding and myth-spinning ever since! Would love to travel along parts of it one day.

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