Treasures of the Great Silk Road

by Edgar Knobloch

  From the third century BC the animal motifs of the Scythians were replaced by the geometrical and floral motifs, equally stylised, of the Sarmatians. This art was then transmitted, through the intermediary of the great metallurgical centres of Siberia (Pazyryk, Minussinsk and Katanda) to the Hunnic tribes of Mongolia, eastern Siberia and northern China. The art of these Huns was just one branch of the stylised animal art of the steppes, which in southern Russia showed Greek, Assyrian and Iranian influences and in the Far East, when it came into contact with Chinese aesthetics, exerted an influence on Chinese art. Steppe art influenced Chinese art, and Chinese aesthetics in their turn influenced the art of the nomads.

  The question which side of this enormous migration belt of art is more ancient, the European-Middle Eastern or the Chinese-Far Eastern, has occupied experts for decades. The stream might have gone equally well eastwards or westwards, or indeed simultaneously both ways. However, excavations at Nganyang, Chinese capital of the Shang dynasty between 1300 and 1028 BC, have yielded some bronze objects decorated in animal style that are considerably older than similar objects found in Siberia, and would therefore suggest that, after all, the stylised animal art, or art of the steppes, had its origin in China.3

  The mobile character of nomad civilisation also poses considerable problems to archaeologists. Practically the only sites where the nomads left any traces of their way of life are their tombs, or kurgans as they are called in Siberia. These are usually situated at isolated spots, with hardly any connection between them and no superimposed layers. This makes identification and dating extremely difficult.

  We do not know exactly when the great trade routes between Persia, India and China were opened, but we can assume that in the time of Alexander there were several towns in Central Asia where these routes intersected or divided. The routes must therefore have been in use for some time. From pre-Alexandrian times the following cities are known and have been partly excavated: Giaur-Kala (site of Merv); Kalaly Gyr and Kiuzeli Gyr in Khorezm; Bactra (the site of Balkh, the castle of which is now known as the Bala Hissar); ancient Samarkand; and Shurabashat in eastern Ferghana.

  The Greek period added to this list Termez and Kei-Kobad Shah in southern Tajikistan, Ay-Khanum on the Afghan side of the Amu Darya, and Dzhanbas-Kala and Koy-Krylgan-Kala in Khorezm, as well as several other settlements, including Nisa in southern Turkmenistan. We know next to nothing about the social structure of these towns, nor about the changes caused by the century-and-a-half of Greek domination. But in the arts, the impact of the Greeks was very strong, and survived their political decline by several hundred years. In ornament, the Graeco-Bactrian motifs can be more frequently found in the south, in the Amu Darya and Zarafshan valleys, than in the north, in the regions of Tashkent and Ferghana. On the other hand, ornamental motifs of steppe art are more frequent here than in the south, doubtless because the nomads were much closer and their influence was much stronger in these fringe areas of sedentary civilisation. The Graeco-Bactrian art was an amalgam of Greek and local elements which, after the end of Greek domination, was subject to an increased Indian-Buddhist influence. This was the so-called style or art of Gandhara, which flourished under the Kushan Empire. Some writers (Schlumberger, for instance) even speak of Kushan style or Kushan art. This art developed on two different patterns: a religious one designed for temples and religious rites, and a secular one, dynastic, as Schlumberger calls it, designed for the embellishment of royal palaces and homes of noblemen.

  In Central Asia, the most thoroughly explored site from the Kushan period is undoubtedly Toprak-Kala in Khorezm. From what Tolstov tells us, it seems that in the preceding period people lived in large tribal families or clans, in huge collective houses of several hundred rooms, all centred around the temple. These long houses can still be found at Toprak-Kala, but the focal point is no longer the temple but a royal palace. In a contemporary settlement, Ayaz-Kala, the system of collective houses had already been abandoned, and each peasant family was living in its own modest house. The settlement was protected by a strong fortress. This, concludes Tolstov, demonstrated the disintegration of the clan system into individual slave-owning families, and a small class of powerful, landowning aristocrats. At the same time, the state system becomes more centralised, the fortifications are taken care of by the central government and not by the town or village, as before. The royal palace dwarfs the temple at Toprak-Kala, as a symbol of the new centralised power; similarly, the fortress of Ayaz-Kala represents the efforts of this power to protect, and to rule, its subjects. This centralisation – if it can be proved for other areas as well – did not survive the decline of the Kushan Empire. In the following centuries the local princelings gained more independence, and some of the provincial courts became lively centres of art. Also, monumental art ceased to be the privilege of the palace and spread into the dwellings of local aristocrats and rich burghers.

  When the Sasanians established themselves in Persia, they did not exercise much authority over these outer fringes of their empire. Besides, the invasion of the White Huns, or Hephthalites, and later that of the Turks, provided a sort of barrier against too much influence from Persia. (See 2.) Behind this barrier, the local, Soghdian, art flourished, and reached its peak just before the Arab invasion. The excavations of Varakhsha and Pendzhikent, as well as of the oases in Xinjiang, reveal a surprisingly sophisticated society: prosperous, educated and tolerant beyond expectation. Ethnically, the Soghdians belonged to the Iranian family and their language was related to Persian. Their religion, as far as we can tell, was a synthesis of many creeds and currents, incorporating elements of Zoroastrianism, Manichaeism, Buddhism and Christianity, together with Greek and Indian mythology. Trade with China was entirely in their hands, and their outposts and settlements were scattered practically all over Chinese Turkestan.

  The Soghdian civilisation, crushed by the Arabs and the Chinese alike, survived for several centuries in the fringe region of Semirechiye. Here the Soghdian colony at Balasagun still existed in the twelfth century, and lndo-Buddhist, Sino-Buddhist and Central Asian traditions were all equally represented in its art.4 Soghdian art, although basically of Iranian character, reveals the same synthesis as Soghdian religion. The stuccoes of Varakhsha, the frescoes of Pendzhikent, and the cave-temples of Chinese Turkestan show an amazing variety of motifs coupled with a supreme mastery of techniques and a formally brilliant presentation. The decentralisation of power is reflected particularly in the kushk (fortified palace), which was often nothing more than a fortified country house. In the following centuries, the kushk lost its defensive role, but the architectural elements remained, becoming stylised and decorative. The whole building developed into an interesting feature of local architecture, which is still to be found, for instance, among the country houses in Khorezm – the so-called hauli. (See p.88 and 3.)

  1 Head of Timur. Reconstruction by Gerasimov

  2 Hephthalite statuette. Samarkand Museum

  3 Hauli, fortified country house, Khorezm

  4 Toprak Kala, Khorezm. The palace

  5 Toprak Kala, Khorezm. Excavations

  6 Khiva (general view with minaret Kalta Minar)

  7 Minaret Khoja Islam, Khiva

  8 Mausoleum of Fakhr-ud-Din Razi, Kunya Urgench

  9 Mausoleum of Sultan Takesh, Kunya Urgench (detail)

  The arrival of the Arabs at the beginning of the eighth century brought about a complete reversal. The enforced introduction of Islam marked an end to the religious and artistic tolerance of Soghdian society. Islam at that stage was a warlike and intolerant creed. Every means was used to eradicate existing creeds and convert the ‘infidel’ population to Islam. Economically, the Arab domination meant an enforced diversion of all trade towards the heartland of the caliphate, interruption, at least for the time being, of contacts with China, and an increase of Persian influence. In the field of the arts, Islam was quick to suppress all traditional modes of expression. Human, animal and even floral motifs
in pottery and metalware, as well as in painting and sculpture, were suppressed and replaced by the only acceptable decoration – the geometrical pattern, the arabesque, combined with the equally geometrical Kufic script. We should bear in mind that at this early stage of their expansion the Arabs were still nomads, and their culture was therefore subject to the same restrictions and limitations as that of the steppe peoples. Their nomadic way of life probably provided the backdrop for their inclination towards flat ornamental decor and the religious interdict of all figurative art.

  This rigid regime did not last very long. Persia soon began to exercise an influence on the Arab rulers, who underwent the same transformation as all other barbarian invaders in civilised lands. They became gradually imbued and absorbed by the high and sophisticated culture of their subjects. Stylised islimi (floral motifs) became common in ornament, and the rigid Kufic was soon replaced by the more flexible and decorative Naskhi, and later Thulth. Animals and birds and occasionally even a human figure reappeared in the arts, but on the whole monumental sculpture and painting were dead for ever. Architecture received a powerful stimulus with the new need for religious buildings: mosques, minarets, madrasas and mausoleums. Pope’s words about Iran apply equally well to Central Asia: ‘New religious and secular buildings were continuously required and they had to be created out of local materials, techniques and styles’.5

  The living conditions of the masses in the tenth century were fairly good. Contemporary sources quoted by Barthold6 mention the possibility that the inhabitants of industrial townships could buy their own land with the approval and assistance of the government. Others give an impressive list of goods supplied by various towns in Transoxania, where it may well be assumed that the inhabitants had everything in abundance and were not dependent on imports from other lands. Industry was undoubtedly developed under Chinese influence, of which the famous rag-paper of Samarkand is good evidence. It was long assumed that this paper was a local invention, but later research has shown that the Chinese manufactured rag-paper several centuries before its production started in Samarkand. Of the products of Transoxania, the greatest reputation was enjoyed by the silk and cotton fabrics of the Zarafshan valley, and the metal articles of Ferghana, especially arms. The development of a metal industry in Ferghana was promoted by the coal mines in the Isfara district.

  Trade with the nomads was always of great importance. Large numbers of cattle and pack animals were obtained from them, as well as hides, furs and slaves. Trade with the settled peoples was indispensable for the nomads, because it provided them with clothing and grain, among other things. The Khorezmians, for instance, founded their prosperity exclusively on their trade with the Turks, and became chief representatives of the merchant class throughout the country, especially in Khorassan. They could be found in numbers in every city of Khorassan, distinguishable from the local inhabitants by the high fur caps that are still worn in present-day Khorezm. The development of material prosperity was accompanied, as is usual, by that of intellectual pursuits. Almost every teacher at that time could number some Khorezmians among his disciples. This stands in direct relation to the high level of learning in Khorezm itself, particularly in Kath and Gurganj, at the end of the tenth and beginning of the eleventh centuries.

  The period of rule of the Turkish Karakhanid dynasty was without a doubt a period of cultural retrogression for Transoxania. In spite of the good intentions of individual rulers, the view that the kingdom formed the personal property of the khan’s family – and the system of appanages resulting from this view and its inevitable quarrels – must have been followed by the decay of agriculture, commerce and industry no less than intellectual culture.

  In the first two centuries of the second millennium, the Turks became the ruling class – a position developed from their role as palace guards of earlier times – and they were able to impose their taste on the artists. The Persian influence was already weakening when it received a decisive blow from the Mongol invasion. Although after the invasion trade links with China were resumed fairly rapidly, there was no substantial increase of Chinese influence in the arts, and, on the whole, artistic activity was reduced to next to nothing. In the 150 years that followed the invasion, very little was built, and the quality of all works originated in that period remains far behind those of the preceding one. Before the time of Chingiz-Khan the Mongols had no written documents. On adopting the Uighur alphabet, they used it first of all for the codification of their national opinions and customs, as sanctioned by the khan. The observance of these rules was binding on everyone, including the khan himself. Thus arose the Great Yasa or Code of Law of Chingiz-Khan. Along with this, the Mongols borrowed from the Chinese the custom of writing down the sayings of the khans and publishing them after their death. These maxims were known by the Turkish word bilik (knowledge). The biliks of Chingiz-Khan were studied and taught. In China, on one occasion, the question of the succession to the throne was settled in favour of that candidate who displayed the most thorough knowledge of these biliks. Evidently, the Little Red Book of Chairman Mao had worthy predecessors.

  It was only with the reign of Timur (Tamerlane) that a renaissance began. This was sparked off by Timur’s methodical – and frequently forcible – habit of collecting artists and craftsmen in all conquered territories, and concentrating them in his capital city, Samarkand. It was a mixture of styles and currents, most of them imported from as far as Syria, Iraq, the Caucasus and India. With the Persian influence again predominant, Timur’s hectic building resulted in some spectacular achievements in architecture, ornament and decorative art. The period of his successors, Shah Rukh in Herat and Ulugh-beg in Samarkand, was less spectacular perhaps, but more balanced and stable. This period marked the beginning of almost a century of prosperity, progress and creativity on a large scale.

  Timur’s empire did not differ widely from all those that had preceded it. Central Asia had always been their pivot, and Timur, a native of this region, continued the traditions of despotism, conquest and plunder, as well as the deeply established cultural traditions of the country. While Grousset7 finds in Timur a long-range Machiavellism, ‘a hypocrisy identified with the purpose of the State’, others see in him simply a descendant of that nomad stock which cultivated the military arts inherited from Chingiz-Khan.

  He was above all master of the military techniques developed by Chingiz-Khan. His hordes of elite Tatar troops were the basis of his power. Timur was not limited in his choice of weapons; he used every weapon in the military and diplomatic armoury of the day. He never missed an opportunity to exploit the weakness of the adversary, intrigue and alliance served his purposes. The seeds of victory were sown before an engagement by his agents who moved amongst the ranks of the enemy, and were reaped later on the battlefield.8

  Was he really ‘a Napoleon with the soul of a Fouché, or a Philip II descendant of Attila’? He was without doubt a brave soldier, an experienced commander, and at the same time a friend of artists and writers, and he could ‘enjoy Persian poetry like a Shirazi’.9 His empire was culturally Turco-Persian, Turco-Chingizkhanid in constitution, with a Mongol-Arab discipline in politics and religion. His campaigns had no pre-established order, but all preparations were meticulously checked and all contingencies were provided for. Geographical continuity was of little value to him. Aggressive, mobile tactics suited him best because mobility and surprise were his chief assets, as they were of Chingiz-Khan.

  Fig. 4 Architectural decoration. Calligraphy from the tower of Masud III, Ghazni, Afghanistan

  Like Chingiz-Khan, Timur was the dominant figure of his age. When Chingiz-Khan disappeared, his empire continued to exist in spite of his often mediocre successors. Timur’s empire, with all his gifted epigoni, often with a touch of genius, like Shah Rukh, Ulugh-beg or Husayn Baykara, disappeared almost immediately, and shrank to the size of his native Transoxania and Khorassan. But the contribution of the Timurid renaissance, in the century that followed his death, surpa
sses the narrow limits of these two countries. Samarkand became a centre of scholarship and science that had no equal in the Muslim world until the heyday of Ottoman Istanbul. Herat became the home of the brilliant school of Persian miniaturists, while Bukhara under the Uzbeks lived off the Timurid heritage for almost three centuries.

  Little can be said about the development of society and the arts under the Uzbek khans. The 300 years of their rule were marked by growing isolation, intolerance and artistic sterility. The stagnant economy relied on old-fashioned means of production, including slave labour, and provided no stimuli for improved relations with neighbouring countries. Of these only Persia under the Safavid shahs had a cultural significance, but she was far too occupied with her wars against Turkey to pay any attention to events on her eastern borders.

  So it happened that the only interesting moment was the surprising artistic renaissance in nineteenth-century Khiva, which, of all places, might have been considered the most isolated and backward region. But the reopening of the northern trade route and growing trade with Russia provided the material basis, while internal conditions in Persia, less favourable at that time, probably persuaded some groups of artists and craftsmen to seek work in that remote oasis. Generally speaking, the quality of the tilework, wood carving, and masonry of Khiva is not outstanding, but some very interesting elements of local tradition were used both in the architecture and in the ornament. Above all, it is the harmony of the whole city precinct, complete with walls, gates, palaces, mosques etc that survived almost intact, which, until the unfortunate restoration attempt, made Khiva unique among the cities of Central Asia.10