Treasures of the Great Silk Road Read online

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  List of Figures

  Preface

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction

  PART I THE COUNTRIES

  I Land and People

  II Outline of History

  III Civilisation

  IV Architecture and Architectural Decoration

  V The Sources

  PART II CENTRAL ASIA

  VI Khorezm

  VII The Zarafshan Valley

  VIII Turkmenistan

  IX The Amu Darya Valley and Southern Tajikistan

  X The Syr Darya and Ferghana Valleys

  XI Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan

  PART III XINJIANG OR EASTERN TURKESTAN

  XII History

  XIII Urumchi, Turfan and Kucha

  XIV Tun-huang to Kashgar

  PART IV AFGHANISTAN

  XV History

  XVI The Centre and the East

  XVII The West

  XVIII The North

  XIX The South

  Appendix: Aftermath of Destruction

  Bibliography

  Plate Section

  By the Same Author

  Copyright

  LIST OF FIGURES

  1 Central Asia

  2 The empire of Chingiz-Khan

  3 The empire of Timur (Tamerlane)

  4 Architectural decoration, Mesud III, Ghazni, Afghanistan

  5 Korezm

  6 Koy-Krylgan-Kala

  7 Samarkand

  8 Girikhs from the palace of Afrasiyab, Samarkand Museum

  9 Shah-i Zinda

  10 Mosque Bibi Khanurn

  11 Mausoleum Gur Emir

  12 Portico in the yard of Gur Emir, Samarkand

  13 Registan, Samarkand

  14 Bukhara

  15 Girikhs on spherical surfaces, Masjid-i Kalan, Bukhara

  16 Poy-Kalan complex

  17 Medallions; details from the western iwan, madrasa Mir-i Arab, Bukhara

  18 Mosque Maghak-i Attari, Bukhara; brick pattern detail

  19 Madrasa Kukeltash, Bukhara; detail

  20 Labi-hauz complex

  21 Turkmenistan

  22 The site of Merv

  23 Top: Rhyton from Nisa. Below: Seals and gems (first to second century AD)

  24 Amu Darya and Zarafshan

  25 Syr Darya and Zarafshan

  26 Xinjiang

  27 Kashgar

  28 Afghanistan

  29 Archaeological sites in Afghanistan

  30 Kabul

  31 Herat

  32 Gazurgah

  PREFACE

  When I first travelled in Central Asia, in 1959, the Soviet Union was a super-power, Khrushchev’s ‘Virgin Lands’ campaign was in full swing and Central Asia was a closed country. In most places my friend and I were probably the only foreigners the locals had ever seen. There was no tourism. The local Party organisation had the magic wand. It could find a room in an overcrowded hotel, get a light plane to drop us at a site in the desert, even send a parcel from the local post office. We travelled by public transport, trains and buses, and sometimes even by car, courtesy of the almighty Party. The roads were thronged with donkey carts, horse wagons, camels and lorries and an occasional bus. Cars were almost non-existent. We slept in local inns, the mehman-khanas, in ancient hotels dating from tsarist times or in various establishments destined for the apparatchiks travelling on a komandirovka (assignment). The only hotel worth its name was in Tashkent, where we started and finished our journey. We were, of course, closely surveyed. We had to argue constantly about our programme, which was repeatedly altered, scrapped, then allowed to go ahead again. We had to see things we did not want to see and were not allowed to go where we wanted to. But people, although they were sometimes reticent and cagey, were kind and helpful. In museums, we could take artefacts out into the courtyard to photograph them. On the other hand, the country police were wary of our cameras, and more than once wanted to confiscate them. There were no markets. Meat was sold in tiny scraps from fly-ridden stalls, but the plov (pilaf) and kebab sold in the streets tasted delicious.

  How things change. In 1997, on my second visit, the Soviet Union was no more, Khrushchev was as good as forgotten, and the Central Asian republics, now independent, were called Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and Turkmenistan. Frunze was again Bishkek, Stalinabad had metamorphosed into Dushanbe, Leninabad into Khodzhend. Istanbul had replaced Moscow as the main port of entry. Camels had disappeared from the streets, horse wagons had been converted into cars, and mobile phones were seen more frequently than donkeys. In offices and banks, abacuses sat next to computers. Every village had a lively market, butchers’ stalls had refrigerators and meat was sold in decent-sized cuts. In the main cities, Indian companies had built luxury hotels which the local staff still had some difficulties running. Tourists were everywhere. Foreign pilgrims flocked to the holy places and prayed in local mosques. On the other hand, frontiers had sprung up where none had been before, and visas were required at every crossing. Forms, in Cyrillic only, had to be meticulously filled in and checked, only to be stacked away and never looked at again. But in the streets, Cyrillic was in retreat, making way for a Latin alphabet modelled on Turkish.

  And the women – tall, leggy girls in fashionable dresses replaced the shapeless forms in their parandzhas. The progress of urbanisation was in evidence everywhere.

  The famous monuments had been restored and rebuilt, some more skillfully than others. Tilla Kari had acquired a bulbous dome which it never had, the Gur Emir had got back its gleaming interior of shining gold, which, perhaps, it had when it was new. Only Khiva was a disaster. Some clever person had had the idea to make it into a museum city. So people had been resettled, rubble removed, crumbling walls restored, peeling tilework replaced. Gone were the camels loaded with brushwood, donkeys, stray cats and mangy dogs. There were workmen in overalls instead of playing children. The bearded old men in their leather boots and quilted khalats were gone.

  On the Chinese side, Xinjiang is gradually opening up but still suffers much of the ‘Soviet disease’. Tourist facilities are few and inefficient, although accommodation is, by and large, acceptable. Movement is, as it was in the USSR, tightly controlled, but the bland Russian ‘nyet’ comes here as a polite Chinese promise which never materialises. The Silk Road is fast becoming a popular tourist destination, but its southern branch is still quite difficult to get to. And the crossing of the Karakoram Range into Pakistan is one of the great experiences of our time.

  Afghanistan, on the other hand, is an unmitigated tragedy. Since I was there, in 1978, there have been, firstly, three bloody coups d’etat followed by the Russian invasion in 1979, and ten years of guerilla warfare of unsurpassed cruelty. The Russian retreat in 1989 opened the gates to a civil war that is still raging. Very little archaeological work could be done during that time. Nevertheless, some excavations were going on, mainly in the Kabul area, where security conditions allowed it. Tourism was, and is, of course, non-existent and the only foreigners occasionally allowed into the country were a few journalists and aid workers. So, perhaps, the pictures that I took thirty years ago may, in some cases, be the last to show what splendours the country’s cultural heritage had to offer.

  This book could not have been written without the help of my wife, who was my travelling companion, record keeper, researcher and, above all, my most persistent and merciless critic.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The author and publishers wish to express their grateful thanks to copyright owners for the use of the illustrations listed below: Grégoire Frumkin, ‘Archaeology in Soviet Central Asia’, VII, Turkmenistan, Central A
sian Review XIV, no 1, 1966 (for Fig. 23); L.I. Rempel, Arkhitekturnyi ornament Uzbekistana, Tashkent 1961 (Figs 8, 12, 15, 17, 18, 19); Staatliche Museen Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Museum für Indische Kunst, Berlin (plate 48); S. Flury, ‘Le decor epigraphique des monuments de Ghazna’, Syria, VI, 1925 (Fig. 4); L. Duprée, Afghanistan (Fig. 29); The International Merv Project, University of London (Fig. 22); L. Golombek, The Timurid Shrine at Gazur Gah (Fig. 32); State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg (plate 72).

  And for quotations: Hodder and Stoughton Ltd (for extracts from Tamburlaine the Conqueror by Hilda Hookham); George Luzac Ltd and the Gibb Memorial Trust (for extracts from Turkestan Down to the Mongol Invasion by V.V. Barthald); Routledge and Kegan Paul Ltd (for extracts from Clavijo, Embassy to Tamerlane, translated by G. Le Strange).

  INTRODUCTION

  To write a book on Central Asian civilisation without imposing some limits either to the area, to certain periods of history, or to the subject discussed, is an almost unmanageable task.

  First, as an area, it had no fixed boundaries. Although its nucleus was what was later known as Russian Turkestan, its cultural influence extended at times far beyond its frontiers, to the Volga, the Ganges and the fringes of China. Secondly, its history is one of the most complex and fluid in the world, and yet without a historical introduction any talk of civilisation and art would be meaningless. Not only does this history go back some 2,500 years, but the nomads who so often played a key role in it had no written records of their own. Every piece of information about them had to be laboriously compiled from the scattered references in Greek, Arabic, Persian or Chinese writings. Differences in languages and scripts, in calendars, in pronunciation and transliteration make any verification and cross-checking of dates and names extremely difficult and often unreliable.

  Four major invasions have altered the cultural pattern of the region: those of the Greeks, the Arabs, the Mongols and the Russians. Most writers select either the Arab or the Mongol invasion as a limit to their work. It has been, therefore, a challenging task to try and sum up the area’s development – both the transient and the permanent features – right up to the last of these milestones. It could, and should, give the reader the opportunity to judge for himself the importance of the changes that have occurred in this region during the last 100 years.

  Finally, each of the three main subjects of this book mentioned in the subtitle – archaeology, art and architecture – is certainly worth a book on its own. But my objective has been to provide the reader who chooses to travel in these parts with a comprehensive guide rather than with an exhaustive and detailed study. I therefore accept in advance any reproof of superficiality and incompleteness.

  The first part should give the reader some information – in a very condensed form – about the character of the countries concerned, their history and their pattern of civilisation. I have thought it useful to add a chapter on architecture and architectural decoration and another on sources. The list of these is, of course, far from complete, but I hope that at least the most important works are mentioned.

  Sites and monuments (covered in Parts II to IV) can be found, with some exceptions, in oases or irrigated areas on rivers with a permanent flow of water, and along the main trade routes. It is therefore quite natural that the division into chapters follows this pattern, and a survey of sites from different periods is given under each heading. This may seem cumbersome, but the opposite principle, that is listing sites of the same period regardless of distance and geographical conditions, would run, to my mind, into even greater difficulties. Apart from the obvious disadvantage to the traveller, it would be difficult to show the similarity of development of one area in different periods of history; it would not be possible to follow the continuity of certain local traditions in architecture and in ornamentation typical of each oasis or region.

  I am not an authority on linguistics, and therefore have preferred to avoid discussion of those problems that fall outside the scope of my work. Although a good deal has been written on this subject, or rather subjects, the complexity of language in this area is such that it needs a specialist to write even a brief note. Wherever manuscripts were part of archaeological finds, I have merely stated the fact and, where possible, just mentioned the languages and scripts in which they were written.

  As far as the transcription of names is concerned, whether Arabic, Persian, Turkish, Mongol or Chinese, there is no unity in literature. There are several ways and several conflicting rules. Many of the place-names, for instance, have mixed Persian and Turkish roots, and can be quite legitimately transcribed in two or more different ways. Some of the oriental names had to be taken from Russian, and transcription from the Cyrillic alphabet simply added to the confusion. I have tried therefore to conform, where possible, to current English usage. Where there is no such usage or where there are several, I have had either to follow one of the authorities, or to choose the best way myself – a method which is of course open to criticism.

  The transcription of Chinese names presents several problems. Some places are known under various names (Gaochang/Idikut Shahri), others can be transcribed in different ways (Urumchi/Urumqi/Ürümchi, or even, in Chinese, Wu-lu-mu-chu). Wherever possible, I have used the modern Pinyin transcription. In certain cases, however, I have kept the well-established, traditional names (Kashgar rather than Ka-shi etc).

  I have kept the spelling ‘dzh’ for the ex-Soviet territories in conformity with my sources, whereas I have used ‘j’ or ‘dj’ for Afghanistan and Xinjiang. As an exception, I have used ‘Tajik’ for the whole area.

  PART I

  THE COUNTRIES

  Fig. 1 Central Asia

  I

  LAND AND PEOPLE

  That part of Central Asia that is roughly bounded by the rivers Amu Darya and Syr Darya, the Aral Sea and the Tien-Shan mountains, has never been a coherent cultural region. This has been due, on the one hand, to the character of the country – scattered oases separated from one another by steppes and desert and which developed more or less independently – and on the other hand, to the fact that this relatively sparsely populated area has been wedged throughout its history between three well-identified cultural entities – Persia, India and China.1

  Central Asia has been, from ancient times, a melting pot of nations and cultures. Trade, religions, and other cultural currents followed certain routes, and oases and regions, or areas, were stages in the migrations of the nomads. Scythians, Kushans, Huns, various Turkic tribes, Mongols and many other races travelled this way. Central Asia was, moreover, the focal point of influence from Greece, Persia, India and China.

  Geographically, the country can be divided into four regions: the steppe in the north, both left and right of the middle Syr Darya; the semi-desert on the lower Syr Darya; the desert, which on the left bank of the Amu Darya is called Kara Kum (the Black Sand), and on the right bank, Kyzyl Kum (the Red Sand), with occasional patches in the Ferghana valley and east of the lower Zarafshan; and the mountains, of which the main chains are the Tien-Shan, the Alai and Transalai, and the Pamirs, with minor ranges along the upper Zarafshan and south of Samarkand.

  The climate of Central Asia is continental, with cold, frosty winters and excessive heat in summer. Heavy snowfalls can be expected in the north and east. Occasionally, snow also falls in the west and south, but it never lies for very long. In the Kara Kum region, for instance, there may be snow and frost during the night, but the day that follows will be sunny and hot. The winter itself is short and it is sandwiched between two rather unpleasant rainy periods, which transform the entire region into a sea of mud. This is due mainly to the soft and light soil of the oases, the loess, which is easily eroded. In mountainous regions, for instance in the Ferghana valley, the hills are eroded into strange, table-shaped formations. Consequently, the rivers carry a lot of earth and sand that form rich alluvial deposits in their lower reaches and lead to frequent changes in their river beds. This makes navigation and, more particu
larly, the maintenance of the vital irrigation canals exceptionally difficult. The most interesting season is a short period just after the spring rains (usually the second half of April and early May), when the steppes and the deserts are covered with blossoming plants and bushes. There are, even in the most arid parts of the Kara Kum and the Kyzyl Kum, several kinds of plants that grow from the sand: bushes, and even trees, saxauls, tamarisks, calligonum etc., which exist almost without chlorophyll, have no leaves on their branches, but produce in this period of the year an abundance of tiny blossoms with a very strong scent. The long hot summer is absolutely dry, but in the plains there is a continuous wind which makes the heat bearable.

  Agriculture has always depended on artificial irrigation. Water is provided by rivers fed from the glaciers of the Tien-Shan, the Pamirs and the Hindu Kush. The principal crop in the oases is cotton, which has been cultivated here since the Middle Ages. Other classical crops used to be barley, millet and wheat, as well as fine vegetables. The huge melons were justly famous; they were exported, in special brass cauldrons filled with ice, to the court of the caliphs in Baghdad, and to the shahs of Persia, and were rated as the most exquisite delicacy. Under the Soviets, the over-emphasis on the production of cotton has made the country dependent on imports of farm produce, and the remaining production of maize, rice and vegetables does not meet the needs of the local population. Fruit and grapes are usually plentiful, however, and apricots can be seen at an altitude of more than 3,500ft.

  Animal husbandry, especially sheep rearing and cattle breeding, also has an age-long tradition and still continues on a large, if not very productive, scale. Horse breeding has declined, but horses and donkeys are still widely used in farm transport. The steppes provide excellent pastures for the herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, many of which are of the famous Karakul, or Astrakhan, breed. They are able to graze on the meagre vegetation on the outskirts of the great deserts. Dairy production seems at present to be very low. Fishing used to be an important industry on the Aral Sea and in the delta of the Amu Darya. Fish and fruit canneries were practically the only significant industry apart from cotton mills. The wildlife is not very rich, but some rare species of animals such as antelopes, wild asses and giant lizards are kept in natural parks. About a century ago there were still tigers in the reed jungles of southern Tajikistan, and similar jungles in the deltas of the Amu and Syr Darya are still alive with animals and birds. Giant poisonous tarantula spiders and scorpions are quite numerous.