The last link

Chinese policy was abruptly reversed during the reign of the emperor Han Wudi (141-87 BCE). He had an interest in foreign lands and their products and no aversion to war, especially when it came to the despised Xiongnu. He intended “to cut off the right arm of the Xiongnu” by separating them from their lucrative trade routes to the west and by seeking allies among other nomads who harbored grudges against them. With this in mind, Wudi sent an emissary named Zhang Qian westward to find the Yuezhi, establish an alliance and trade relations, and gather whatever intelligence he could on the countries he might pass through along the way. Described as “a man of strong physique and of considerable generosity; he inspired the trust of others and the barbarians loved him,” Zhang Qian was accompanied by an escort of over 100 men that included a Xiongnu slave named Ganfu, who had been captured by the Chinese but released to serve as guide and interpreter on this most impossible of missions. Neither Zhang Qian nor Ganfu had any idea where they were going.

Shortly after passing into the Gansu Corridor, the entire mission was captured and brought to the shanyu in western Mongolia. Zhang Qian told the shanyu part of the truth, that he had been sent on a mission to the Yuezhi: “The Shanyu said: ‘The Yuezhi lie to the north of us; how may Han send its envoys there? If I wished to send envoys to Yueh [an independent state encompassing part of southeastern China and northern Vietnam], would Han be willing to let me?’” Zhang Qian and his men were enslaved, and he spent the next ten years tending cattle and sheep, during which he married another slave. One day he was part of a group who escaped. They headed west since their pursuers were coming from the east, skirting deserts and crossing mountains that took them first to the Ili Valley, then past the Issyk Kul into the land of Ferghana. They were trying to catch up to the Yuezhi, who were also on the move, attempting to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the Xiongnu. With help along the way from the Wusun, who, according to Ban Gu, “had heard of Han’s abundant wealth and had wished to establish contact but had not been able to do so,” Zhang Qian finally caught up to the Yuezhi in Bactria. Unfortunately, as Sima Qian put

it, the Yuezhi had “decided to enjoy this life of peace. Moreover, since they considered themselves too far away from China, they no longer wanted to revenge themselves on the Xiongnu.” For a year Zhang Qian waited unsuccessfully for the Yuezhi to change their mind before beginning his return trip home. Since he had previously experienced so much trouble coming across the northern route, he returned by the south through the Kunlun Mountains. Nevertheless, he was captured, enslaved, and escaped again, this time after only a year. Thirteen years after he set out, Zhang Qian, his wife, and Ganfu straggled back into China. The emperor was most pleased. ZhangQian was rewarded, promoted, and sent

back on two subsequent missions, the more important of which in 115 BCE was to the Wusun in the Ili Valley, who some modern scholars surmise to be Herodotus’ Issedones. Wudi hoped to replace the Yuezhi with the Wusun as allies, so Zhang Qian was provided with gold, silk, and other valuables that, according to Sima Qian, were “worth millions,” and was accompanied by a large number of deputy envoys that were to be sent on to neighboring states. The gifts were really exchange items for which the Chinese expected to receive adequate compensation. Zhang Qian had no trouble reaching the Wusun, but he found them no more anxious to be drawn into a war with the Xiongnu than had the Yuezhi. However, he was given fine horses to take back as a present. About a year after his return, his deputy envoys began arriving, sometimes accompanied by embassies from the various places they had visited. From the accounts of Zhang Qian and his deputy envoys, the emperor learned

much about the products and economies of the countries to the west. Other missions were sent with additional gifts, and new gifts arrived: “The Son of Heaven heard that [places] such as Ferghana as well as Bactria and Persia were all large states with many rare goods; that the people were attached to the land [i.e., they were not nomads]; and that their way of life was rather similar to that of China; however, their forces were weak, and they prized Han wealth and goods.” Beyond such lands were even more exotic places like Shengdu, Tiaozhi (Mesopotamia), and Lijian (the Roman Empire). Most of these places were already using Chinese products in varying amounts, particularly silk, and even trading it among themselves. Han Wudi was not a man of moderation, and soon missions were being

dispatched en masse. Unfortunately, the economies of the various peoples now being visited by Chinese envoys were not prepared to absorb the flood of Chinese goods that quickly inundated them, nor were China’s new partners prepared to meet demands for the specific items the Chinese wanted. Eventually the peoples of Central Asia would come to realize the tremendous potential their position gave them as middlemen in passing Chinese products to the west and south. But for the moment, they were saturated. The emperor would have to learn the limits of royal gift exchange. Of all the products of Central Asia, Wudi desired horses the most. The

horses the Chinese usually obtained from the nomads on their northern

border were of the small, shaggy, pony-like variety, and Wudi’s ongoing war with the Xiongnu had severely depleted their stock. Zhang Qian had reported seeing special breeds of horses – large, muscular, swift, sleek, beautiful, and superior in every way – in the Ili Valley and Ferghana. The surplus from these herds was normally sent south into India, but the local people kept the best for themselves. On request, the chief of the Wusun twice sent gifts of 1,000 horses from the Ili Valley, but Chinese envoys to Ferghana learned that the people there had a small number of horses that were so special they were kept hidden whenever Chinese envoys came around. Wudi, who was becoming increasingly obsessed with obtaining horses, was familiar with a passage from a divination text predicting that “supernatural horses” would come from the northwest. The horses of Ferghana, so Zhang Qian had been told, “were descended from the Heavenly Horses,” and they sweated blood as a manifestation of their special nature. Apparently these horses exuded a reddish lather that has never been explained to everyone’s satisfaction, one suggestion being that this resulted from a particular parasite that afflicted them. The Chinese believed that heavenly horses emerged from a mystical river that was also the home of a dragon, and like dragons these horses had magical powers, including the ability to fly. On his death, the emperor would be carried into heaven by such horses. In 107-106 BCE, Wudi sent a mission to Ferghana carrying 1,000 pieces

of gold and the statue of a horse (size unknown) made of pure gold in exchange for some of the heavenly horses. However, the request was denied, the Ferghanans reasoning: “China is far off and the road is long; travelers lack both fodder and water. … How could an army reach us? China can do nothing to harm us. The inestimable horses … shall remain the horses of Ferghana.” The envoys, realizing that they would be in very hot water if they returned empty handed, “spoke in anger and without restraint, and went away after smashing the golden horse.” This was taken as a deep insult by the Ferghanans, who had the envoys murdered in retaliation soon after they departed. When word of this debacle reached Wudi he was furious, and his appetite

for the horses now became whetted to a ravenous pitch. In 104 BCE he dispatched an army on a 2,500 mile journey that included crossing the Taklamakan, one of the most formidable deserts in the world, and going over the Pamirs, one of the highest mountain ranges in the world. The army, described by Ban Gu as consisting of “some tens of thousands of illdisciplined young men,” tried to live off the land it traveled through, provoking hostility along the way. After two disastrous years, an estimated 10-20 percent of the original force straggled back to the Jade Gate, having never reached the capital of Ferghana. Wudi was so angry he ordered the gate closed, locking the survivors out. In 103 BCE a second expedition, this time consisting of 100,000 men (or

60,000; the sources are at variance) accompanied by bountiful supplies

returned. It reached Ferghana and besieged its capital for over 40 days. The nobles inside decided to blame the whole matter on the king and murdered him, sending his head to the Chinese general with a proposal: “‘If the Han will not attack us, we will bring out all the fine horses. Han may choose what it likes, and we will supply the Han army with provisions. If Han does not listen to us, we will kill all the fine horses.’” The Chinese agreed, and the war ended. The Chinese were given 30 heavenly horses and 3,000 of lesser stock, of which about 1,000 survived the trip back to China. Subsequently the new king of Ferghana agreed to send two heavenly horses a year to the emperor. Wudi was so inspired when the horses arrived he wrote a hymn of celebration entitled “The Heavenly Horses Are Coming,” which concludes: