by Dan Fournier, Dan Fournier’s Inconvenient Truths: “This Government has been informed that a Jewish state has been proclaimed in Palestine, and recognition has been requested by the provisional government thereof. The United States recognizes the provisional government as the de facto authority of the new State of Israel.” – President and 33rd degree Freemason Harry S. Truman on May […]

by Steve Watson, Modernity News: Tech investor calls out blatant media bias in protecting Democrat mega-donor Venture capitalist David Sacks has slammed The New York Times for its glaring failure to scrutinize Reid Hoffman, the LinkedIn co-founder emerging as the top Silicon Valley figure in the explosive Jeffrey Epstein files. In a scathing segment on […]

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  According to legend, a generation before the Trojan War, a group of seven warlords, led by King Adrastus of Argos, stormed the Greek city of Thebes, attacking the famed Seven Gates of the city. Their assault failed, and all were killed except for Adrastus. Ten years later, their sons returned to Thebes seeking revenge. These are the myths recorded in the Theban Cycle, comprising three epic poems: the Oedipodeia, the Thebaid, and the Epigoni, as well as a related epic, the Alcmeonis. All of these epics are lost to us today, except for a few fragments, quotes, and references. Nevertheless, the Theban Cycle has left a lasting legacy, inspiring great tragedies like Oedipus Rex and The Seven Against Thebes.   What Is the Theban Cycle? Scenes from the Theban Cycle, attributed to the Makron Painter, c. 490 BCE. Source: Musee du Louvre   The Theban Cycle was a collection of epics that formed part of what later Hellenistic scholars referred to as the Epic Cycle. As the name suggests, the epics of the Theban Cycle took place in and around Thebes and were associated with several myths that are familiar to us today, largely due to the Classical Greek tragedies of Sophocles, Aeschylus, and Euripides. The Theban Cycle covers three generations of heroes (four if you include Laius, the father of Oedipus), from Oedipus down to Alcmaon, who was of the same generation as the heroes that fought in the Trojan War.   Oedipodeia Oedipus and the Sphinx, by Gustave Moreau, c. 1864 CE. Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art   The cycle begins with the Oedipodeia, an epic poem about Oedipus, his defeat of the Sphinx, and his ascent to power as king of Thebes. Ancient sources sometimes attributed the poem to Homer, and at other times to Cinaethon of Lacedaemon; however, the true authorship remains unknown. Comprised of 6,600 verses, the precise composition date is uncertain, but it was likely between the mid-8th and 7th centuries BCE.   Unfortunately, virtually nothing survives from this epic save for three fragments, which themselves don’t tell us the contents of the poem. Much of what scholars believe was in the epic comes from later plays about Oedipus written by Sophocles, though it is impossible to confirm what material the playwright took from the epic and what he invented. Events that may have been narrated in the epic are the rape of Chrysippus, the oracle to Laius about his future son, the exposure of Oedipus, the murder of Laius by Oedipus, the Sphinx’s riddle, and Oedipus’ marriage to his mother and its consequences.   Chrysippus was the bastard son of Pelops, and Laius was his tutor. Laius was supposed to be teaching the boy how to drive a chariot, but he instead brought him to Thebes and killed him, though some traditions say he raped him. Hera was then said to have sent the Sphinx to punish Thebes for letting Laius’ crime go unpunished. While there is no evidence that this story was included in the Oedipodeia, nor that it was derived from any epic, there is also no reason to believe that a version of this episode was necessarily excluded. It aligns with the overall theme of the Oedipus story and introduces the primary force that he must overcome.   Scenes of Oedipus and the Sphinx, attributed to the Menelaus Painter, c. 440 BCE. Source: Musee du Louvre   The oracle’s warning to Laius against having a son comes after he and his wife, Jocasta or Epicaste, depending on the version of the story, were unable to have children. The seer Tiresias advised Laius to appease Hera in her role as goddess of marriage, but he chose instead to go to Delphi and ask Apollo. The god told him that he should not have a son because if he did, he would be killed by him. Laius got drunk one night and slept with his wife, begetting Oedipus despite the oracle’s warning. He pierced the baby’s ankles and left him to die of exposure on Mt. Cithaeron. Fortunately for Oedipus, he was discovered by a shepherd and brought to the Corinthian queen to be raised.   When Oedipus grew older, he was accused of not being the true son of the people who had raised him, so he went to Delphi to ask the oracle who his parents were. The oracle told him that if he returned home, he’d kill his father and marry his mother. Believing that the people who raised him were his real parents, he decided not to return to Corinth and instead headed towards Thebes. On the road, he encountered an old man and some servants at a crossroads. They tried to push him off the road, so Oedipus killed them and continued on his way. What he didn’t know was that the old man was Laius, fulfilling the first half of the prophecy.   Scenes of Oedipus Slaying the Sphinx, attributed to the Meidias Painter, c. 420-400 BCE. Source: British Museum   Arriving in Thebes, Oedipus found it being threatened by the Sphinx. The scholion on Euripides’ Phoenician Women wrote that the Sphinx killed Haemon, Laius’ nephew, who was the last and most illustrious of the Sphinx’s victims. This was also possibly the reason for Laius’ fatal journey to Delphi, to ask the oracle how to deal with the Sphinx. Creon, the father of Haemon and brother of Jocasta, in the absence of Laius, declared that whoever was able to save the kingdom from the Sphinx would be given the throne.   In Sophocles’ tragedy, this was envisioned as the solution to the Sphinx’s riddle; however, vase paintings depict Oedipus slaying the monster with a sword. It is uncertain whether the riddle was a later invention or whether the painter of the vase was trying to convey the story in an exciting and active manner, given the static medium in which he was working. Regardless, Oedipus defeated the Sphinx and became king, marrying Jocasta.   In Sophocles’ plays, Oedipus’ children were by Jocasta, but Pausanias doubted this, citing his source as the Oedipodeia. According to him and other sources, Oedipus never had children by Jocasta. He stated that their relation was straightaway revealed to them by the gods and that Oedipus’ children were from his second wife, named Euryganeia. The epic may have ended with Oedipus’ death and funeral at Thebes, or with his fall from power after cursing his own sons, as is featured in the following epic.   Thebaid Oedipus Curses his son Polynices, by John Perry, after Henry Fuseli, 1826 CE. Source: British Museum   The Thebaid told the story of seven warlords under the command of King Adrastus of Argos and their unsuccessful siege of the city of Thebes. It has been attributed to Homer, suggesting the antiquity and prestige of the poem, but the actual authorship remains in question. There are more surviving fragments of this epic than of the Oedipodeia, but still an insufficient amount to reconstruct the contents of the poem. However, using classical tragedies and references from other ancient sources, we can guess the plot with some confidence.   It began with an invocation of the Muses, a common feature of epic that’s also seen in the Iliad and Odyssey. There are then two fragments that speak of the curse that Oedipus placed upon his two sons, Eteocles and Polyneices. Athenaeus wrote that the reason for the curse was that they placed golden cups in front of him that he had forbidden. The cups belonged to his late father, Laius, so he was not only upset at his sons for disobeying him, but also at being reminded of his murdered father. The curse was that they would never divide their inheritance peacefully. A separate account from the scholion on Sophocles’ Oedipus at Colonus states that the curse was due to the sons’ habit of sending the shoulder of sacrifices to Oedipus, but on one occasion, for unknown reasons, they sent him a haunch. Oedipus thought his sons were deliberately sending him the wrong portion and took it as an insult. He cursed them to die at each other’s hands.   Scene of Polyneices and Eriphyle, attributed to the Mannheim Painter, c. 450-540 BCE. Source: Musee du Louvre   The curse took effect immediately, and when Oedipus either died or exiled himself, as narrated in Sophocles’ plays, Polyneices and Eteocles began to argue over their inheritance. It was eventually decided that either Polyneices would receive their father’s wealth while Eteocles received his lands and title, or that they would alternate rule of the kingdom. Polyneices left Thebes and went to Argos, where he encountered Tydeus and King Adrastus. Due to a prophecy Adrastus had received from the Delphic oracle, he married his daughters to the two warriors and promised to restore them to their native lands. Adrastus planned an expedition to Thebes with the aid of seven warlords. There are various names that are attributed to these seven, but consistently named among them are Polyneices, Tydeus, and Amphiaraus.   Amphiaraus was a seer, and his wife, Eriphyle, a sister of Adrastus, pressured him into joining the expedition. On the way to Thebes, Amphiaraus saw signs that he interpreted to mean that the expedition was doomed to fail and that he was going to die. Adrastus and the warlords surrounded Thebes, with each warlord positioning themselves opposite one of Thebes’ famed Seven Gates, and Polyneices facing off against his brother Eteocles. Amphiaraus’ vision of doom came true, and all the Argive warlords, as well as Eteocles, died. The sole survivor was Adrastus, who managed to escape on his horse, Arion.   Antigone Gives Token Burial to the Body of Her Brother Polynices, by Jules-Eugène Lenepveu, c. 1835-1898 CE. Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art   The end of the epic may have been Adrastus arranging the burial of the dead warlords, or it may have followed Sophocles’ Antigone. The play opens after Thebes’ victory against the Seven. Eteocles and Polyneices are dead, and the new king, Creon, has declared that only Eteocles may receive a proper burial, while Polyneices was declared an enemy of the city. Antigone, Polyneices and Eteocles’ sister, is conflicted over whether to obey the law of her uncle Creon, or to fulfil her duty to Polyneices and the gods by burying her brother. In the end, she buried her brother. As punishment, Creon condemns her to be buried alive in a tomb. The gods become displeased with Creon’s actions, and he eventually relents and allows Antigone to go free, but before she could be released, she committed suicide.   Epigoni Scene of Adrastos in his Chariot, produced in Attica, c. 420 BCE. Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art   The next epic in the cycle was called the Epigoni, meaning the descendants, and took place ten years after the events of the Thebaid. Very little remains of the Epigoni, but what does remain implies that the poem was not independent but a portion of the Thebaid. Some scholars agree with this assessment, but much of the evidence is flawed, and the tradition of a second, avenging war against Thebes could only have begun after the story of the Seven had already been established. One of the extant fragments provides the first line of the poem, which features an invocation of the Muses, typical of epic poems.   Regarding the epic’s contents, other sources, such as Apollodorus, need to be consulted. The story of the Epigoni narrates the events of the sons of the Seven who mounted another assault against Thebes to avenge their fathers. They consulted the Delphic oracle, which told them that they would be victorious if they made Alcmaon, the son of Amphiaraus, the leader of the expedition. They ravaged villages until they encountered the Theban army led by King Laodamas. The king killed the son of Adrastus, the only survivor of the expedition of the Seven, before being killed himself. The rest of the Theban army then fled back behind the high walls of their city.   The seer Tiresias advised the Thebans to send a messenger to the Argives asking for a truce while they secretly escape from the city. The Argives, when they realized the city was empty, entered Thebes and plundered it, and then tore down its walls. The sons of the Seven sent all the best spoils to Delphi, including the daughter of Tiresias, Manto.   Scene of Warriors Arming, attributed to the Kleophrades Painter, c. 490 BCE. Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art   Some other possible episodes in the epic are the death of Tiresias at the spring of Tilphusa after the Thebans fled the city. Alcmaon’s murder of his mother may also have featured in the epic. He was commanded to do this by his father, Amphiaraus, before he left for war with the Seven because she had taken a bribe from Polyneices in exchange for making her husband go to war. But Alcmaon deferred vengeance until after the war. He later discovered that his mother had accepted another bribe from Polyneices’ son, Thersander, to persuade her sons to join the second war against Thebes.   Alcmeonis Scene of a Man Slaying a Woman (Possibly Alcmaon and Eriphyle), attributed to the Marlay Painter, c. 440 BCE. Source: British Museum   The Alcmeonis is thought by some to be a section of the Epigoni, given the overlap in subject matter. Some scholars do not include this epic in the Theban Cycle. Its content relates to later Theban myths and features characters who later participate in the Trojan War, such as Diomedes. It has been said that the epic was wide in scope and varied in content, and likely narrated the life of Alcmaon after the Epigoni defeated Thebes. Given that the Epigoni is cited as being 7,000 lines, it leaves little room for a portion of the epic to be considered “wide in scope” if the Alcmeonis was in fact part of that epic.   The evidence in favor of it being its own epic is more convincing. One such point is that the Epigoni was often ascribed to either Homer or Antimachus of Teos, but the Alcmeonis is only ever cited as being written by “the author of the Alcmeonis.” The plot can be reasonably deduced from other sources, such as Apollodorus, and likely included the expedition against Thebes, Alcmaon’s murder of his mother, and his subsequent wanderings in Greece.   After the murder of his mother, Alcmaon became tormented by his mother’s Furies, avenging spirits that punished familial bloodshed. He left Argos and went to Arcadia to be purified of his blood-guilt. King Pergeus of Psophis conducted the purification and gave his daughter, Arsinoe, in marriage to Alcmaon. He gave her the necklace and robe of Harmonia, which were the bribes given to his mother by Polyneices and Thersander to force her husband and sons to join the wars. Yet the purification was ineffective. Apollodorus wrote that the land was becoming infertile, so Alcmaon consulted the oracle at Delphi, which commanded him to seek purification in a land that did not exist when he murdered his mother.   Scene of Agrios seized by Oineus, attributed to the Python Painter, c. 360-320 BCE. Source: British Museum   He wanders through Aetolia and Thresprotia until he finds the prophesied lands in the silts at the mouth of the river Achelous. There, he founds a settlement and is purified by the river god Achelous, who gives him his daughter, Callirrhoe, in marriage. A rivalry later breaks out among his two wives when Alcmaon returns to Psophis to recover the necklace and robe of Harmonia. He requests them under the pretense that he was going to donate them to Delphi when he actually intended to give them to Callirrhoe. Upon arrival, he was ambushed by Arsinoe’s brothers and killed.   Legacy in Greek Tragedy Bust of Sophocles, Piraeus, c. 1st-2nd century CE. Source: Musee du Louvre   As we’ve seen above, much of what we know of the Theban Cycle comes from the plays of Sophocles, Euripides, and Aeschylus. Greek tragic plays were always inspired by myth, though details could be invented to support the overall theme. Sophocles’ Oedipus the King and Oedipus at Colonus were likely inspired by the established tradition of Oedipus and the ill fate that befell him.   Aeschylus immortalized the story of the first Theban war in his play titled Seven Against Thebes. Euripides’ Phoenician Women also takes place during this war, but from the perspective of the Thebans trapped within the city surrounded by the Argive army. The Theban cycle even inspired a play by the Roman poet Statius titled the Thebaid. It is from these plays and others in the tragic tradition that we can reconstruct the scope of these lost epics.   Select Bibliography   Cingano, E. (2015). “Oedipodea.” M. Fantuzzi, Chr. Tsagalis (Ed.), The Greek Epic Cycle and Its Ancient Reception. A Companion, pp. 213–225.   Cingano, E. (2015). “Epigonoi.” M. Fantuzzi, Chr. Tsagalis (Ed.), The Greek Epic Cycle and Its Ancient Reception. A Companion, pp. 244–260.   Davies, Malcolm. (2015). “The Theban Epics.” Hellenic Studies Series 69. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies.   Debiasi, A. (2015). “Alcmeonis.” M. Fantuzzi, Chr. Tsagalis (Ed.), The Greek Epic Cycle and Its Ancient Reception. A Companion, pp. 261-280. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511998409.017   Lloyd-Jones, H. (2002). “Curses and Divine Anger in Early Greek Epic: The Pisander Scholion.” The Classical Quarterly, 52(1), 1–14.   Torres, Jose B. (2015). “Thebaid.” M. Fantuzzi, Chr. Tsagalis (Ed.), The Greek Epic Cycle and Its Ancient Reception. A Companion, pp. 226-243.

  Though the ancient Greek and Chinese civilizations are both recognized for their vast cultural impact on the West and the East, respectively, very few imagine that they ever came in contact. However, this is exactly what happened between 104 and 101 BCE, in the confluence of modern-day Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, in Central Asia. It was a contact characterized by diplomacy, exchange, but also violent confrontation. This confrontation was over the fabled “heavenly horses” of the Ferghana Valley and was thus called the War of the Heavenly Horses.   Fool Me Once, Xiongnu: Prelude to the Conflict Map of the expansion of the Han dynasty from 206 BCE to 23 CE. Source: Norton&co   While the Roman Republic was slowly expanding its influence across the Mediterranean in the West, in the Far East, across the Iranian plateau, and beyond the Himalayas, existed a vast empire with a well-developed and sophisticated administration, wielding immense cultural and military influence: China under the Han Dynasty.   As was the case for most of China’s long history, China was under constant pressure from a nomadic confederation from the north, the Xiongnu. The Chinese had attempted to achieve peace through tribute and royal marriages, but the raids continued, and so upon the ascension of the seventh Han emperor to the throne, Emperor Wu (156-87 BCE), a different policy was followed: one of military escalation.   Anyone planning to go against a confederation of steppe peoples—and win—would know that a powerful, versatile cavalry is essential, and this, predictably, became the priority of the Han court in this period. Tentative diplomatic contact had been made with the oasis cities of the Tarim Basin (modern day Xinjiang) and beyond, in Bactria and Sogdiana (modern day Afghanistan and Tajikistan). Through these, the Han had learned that the longtime nomadic rivals of the Xiongnu, the nomadic Yuezhi, had established themselves in Bactria, after being forced to flee there by the former. So, in 139 BCE, Emperor Wu dispatched an emissary to the Yuezhi, by the name of Zhang Qian, to form an alliance against their common foe. His account of his travels and (mis-)adventures, preserved by the Chinese chronicler Sima Qian, forms the basis of our knowledge of the War of the Heavenly Horses.   The Road of Tamerlane, by Vasily Vereshchagin, 1842-1904, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow. Source: ArtArchive   Zhang Qian travelled through the Tarim Basin, and it was there that he must have discovered how powerful the Xiongnu confederation had become: the oasis cities were paying tribute to the nomads, and all the lands between them were under their control. He was soon captured and sold as a slave of the nomads for the next thirteen years. The imperial court must have thought him dead, but his loyalty to the emperor never wavered. He eventually managed to escape and make his way to the Yuezhi, who were now settled in Sogdiana and northern Bactria.   Passing through Ferghana and entering Bactria, he encountered a people of a strange culture that was unknown to him, different from the Saka (Scythians) and Yuezhi overlords to whom they paid tribute. He called them the Dayuan, which is sometimes translated as “the Great Ionians.” They were none other than the remnants of the Greek kingdom of Bactria and of the settlers who had populated the cities founded or conquered by Alexander the Great, two centuries before, conventionally known as the Greco-Bactrians.   The Glory That Was Greece Gold stater coin of Greco-Bactrian king Eucratides I (r. 172/171–145 BCE), found in Bukhara, Central Asia, now housed in the Cabinet de Medailles, Paris. Source: Gallica Digital Library   The kingdom of Bactria, one of the Hellenistic states that rose after Alexander’s conquests, had suffered the nomadic threat for most of its history, much like the Chinese. Indeed, the same historical processes directed the fate of both peoples. The Xiongnu, as mentioned above, had forced the Yuezhi to flee west. As they did, the Yuezhi in turn forced another collection of nomadic peoples, the Saka, to flee south and west, into Bactria. Already weakened by dynastic infighting and civil war, Greek Bactria fell in two successive waves of nomadic invasion, one from the Saka and another from the Yuezhi, who soon followed them there, after 145 BCE.   The Kingdom of Dayuan was most likely a collection of formerly Greco-Bactrian and other oasis cities in Sogdiana and the Ferghana valley, under the authority of local Saka chieftains. Qian describes their lands as fertile, producing rice, wheat, and wine. The people there are mentioned as living in fortified cities, fighting with bows and spears, as well as shooting arrows from horseback. This is likely in reference to mixed armies of Saka horse archers and infantry equipped in the Greek manner.   The only other place Zhang Qian could find a parallel for the Dayuan was the land of “Daxia,” known to us as Bactria. This land, he commented, “…has no great ruler but only a number of petty chiefs ruling the various cities. The people are poor in the use of arms and afraid of battle, but they are clever at commerce.” Possible representations of Yuezhi nobles on an Xiongnu embroidered carpet from the Noin-Ula burial site, c. 1st century BCE–1st century CE. Source: Wikimedia Commons   By the time Zhang Qian entered Bactria, the Greco-Bactrian kingdom had collapsed, and there was no central power but that of the nomads, with the Greek cities firmly under their sway. The remaining Greco-Bactrian armies and their commanders had fled into India, where they established the Indo-Greek kingdoms, which would last a bit longer, until around 10 CE.   Leaderless and militarily unable to exercise any authority, the remains of the Greco-Bactrians rallied in their cities, some like Alexandria Eschate in Sogdiana, even founded by Alexander himself, and sought protection behind the walls that the nomads could not overrun. A tense relationship developed between the nomadic Saka and Yuezhi, and the settled Greco-Bactrians, whereby the cities grew rich from the trade the nomads facilitated and, in turn, paid those nomads in yearly tribute. The latter progressively adopted more and more elements of Greek culture and gradually assimilated into the settled way of life.   The Allure of the Heavenly Horses The Flying Horse of Gansu, Eastern Han Dynasty (25–220 CE), Gansu Provincial Museum, China. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Zhang Qian had arrived in the lands of the Yuezhi too late. They had fled the Xiongnu for a reason and had already begun adopting the settled way of life in northern Bactria. Indeed, in the following centuries, the Yuezhi would go on to found the Great Kushan Empire, spanning Bactria and most of northern India, uniting Greek and Indian culture under the umbrella of Buddhism in their powerful realm. But this was in the future still; for the moment, they were unwilling to aid the Chinese in the fight against the dreaded Xiongnu.   This would have been a disappointment but for what Zhang Qian witnessed on his way to the Yuezhi. In the Kingdom of Dayuan, he reported, more importantly than anything else, could be found “many fine horses which sweat blood,” claiming that “their forebears are supposed to have been foaled from heavenly horses.” This piece of information alone sparked dozens of diplomatic missions back and forth from the Han imperial court and the various cities, statelets, and kingdoms that lay beyond the Tarim basin.   This intensification of diplomatic contacts, however, did not signify good relations and did not provide the Han with the horses they sought. Dayuan and the other cities thought themselves too far from the Han Empire and treated the emissaries of the emperor with contempt, refusing to follow established diplomatic protocol, charging them exorbitantly, or even outright refusing to supply them. Outraged reports flooded the Chinese imperial court, and Emperor Wu, emboldened by recent victories against the Xiongnu, decided to bring these arrogant Westerners to heel.   The Stick and the Carrot: Opening Skirmishes Terracotta statues of Han cavalrymen in front of assembled infantry, part of the Yangjiawan terracotta army, c. 169 BCE, Yangjiawan Tomb 4, Xianyang Museum, Shaanxi, China, photo by Gary Todd. Source: Flickr   An army of 20,000 or 30,000 troops was dispatched across the Tarim Basin, forcing the Xiongnu to withdraw before its immensity. The cities did bow in the end, including the Kingdom of Dayuan, but the Chinese had to besiege each of them individually, and due to harsh conditions and over-stretched supply networks, they had lost many men in the process. This did not go unnoticed by the Dayuan.   The matter of the heavenly horses still stood. Envoys of the Han reported that “Dayuan has some fine horses […] but the people keep them hidden and refuse to give any [to them]!” Undeterred and possibly hoping that the lessons of the recent campaign of subjugation were well remembered by the king of Dayuan, likely a Saka chieftain, the emperor dispatched an embassy laden with gold and fittingly, a golden sculpture of a horse, with the sole objective of acquiring the heavenly horses. Dayuan, however, had grown rich and powerful from the commercial networks with the Han and the lessons it had acquired from the preceding hostilities were not the ones Emperor Wu had envisioned.   Woolen pant leg from Sampul in Khotan, c. 1st century CE, embroidered with the image of a spearman, possibly a Graeco-Bactrian, Hellenized Saka or Yuezhi warrior or king, and a Graeco-Roman centaur, Xinjiang Region Museum, China. Source: Wikimedia Commons   On the contrary, “the men of the state […] plotted together”—here we can imagine an assembly of Greek-descended nobles in the city of Alexandria Eschate, counselling the Sakan king, “The Han is far away from us and on several occasions has lost men in the salt-water wastes between our country and China. […] if the Han parties go farther north, they will be harassed by the Xiongnu […] if they go to the south they will suffer from lack of water and fodder.” Knowing their lands better than the Chinese, they relied on the simple fact that their enemy would starve long before reaching their walls.   Bronze statuette of kneeling warrior wearing a distinctive Greek Boeotian-style helmet, recovered in Xinjiang, China, c. 5th-3rd century BCE. Source: Wikimedia Commons   The importance of the heavenly horses for the Dayuan was higher than that of either the gifts or the threats of the Chinese, and so the answer was no. Years of insults, arrogance, and diplomatic faux pas must have piled on. How could these tiny cities, grown wealthy on trade with China, defy the will of their emperor? The envoys cursed the leaders of the Dayuan, and worse still, smashed the golden horse they had brought as a gift to them in the first place. Despite the wrath of the Dayuanese nobles, the Han envoys were allowed to depart but were soon intercepted and killed before leaving the kingdom! There was no going back.   Dayuan and Only: The First Phase of the War Bronze plaque with horse carriage, c. 2nd-1st century BCE, Han China. Source: Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York   The year 104 BCE saw the first phase of the war, with the Chinese emperor sending a force of 20,000 to 30,000 men, just as before, to punish the Dayuan and acquire the horses. An impressive force though it was, the hopes of Dayuan were confirmed: the expedition was a disaster. City after city closed its gates, refusing to resupply the army and forcing the Chinese general, Li Guangli, to spend precious time and resources besieging them. By the time the army reached the borders of Dayuan in Yucheng, it numbered in the thousands and was decisively defeated there by the Dayuanese forces. As Zhang Qian reports, the army returned to China one or two tenths of its original size.   Emperor Wu was urged by his advisors to abandon the Dayuan endeavor and focus on the Xiongnu instead, but he rightly felt that if it became known that China could not conquer a small country like Dayuan, its reputation—the basis for its successful diplomacy—would suffer greatly and inspire other upstart states into defiance. Therefore, it appears as though the resources of the entire empire were drawn upon for this second punitive expedition. “The whole empire was thrown into a turmoil, relaying orders and providing men and supplies for the attack on Dayuan.” Sima Qian reports.   The Empire Strikes Back: The Second Phase of the War Ruins of a Han watchtower in Dunhuang, Gansu province, China. Source: Wikimedia Commons   Hundreds of thousands of men were sent to Dunhuang, also known as the Jade Gate, China’s door to the West, followed by 100,000 oxen, 30,000 horses, and plenty more thousands of donkeys, mules, and camels besides. This vast force was placed under the command of the disgraced Li Guangli, who must have had a personal vendetta against the defiant Dayuan and the other oasis cities of the Tarim Basin.   This time around, most cities submitted, and the one that did not, Luntou, was besieged, razed to the ground, and its population was massacred. This ensured that no further resistance was met until the army reached the capital of the Kingdom of Dayuan. The Dayuanese attempted to meet the Chinese on the battlefield but were overwhelmed and had to retreat behind their walls. A 40-day siege ensued.   Under these dire conditions, and with no victory in sight, the court of the Dayuan fell into infighting. The nobles plotted against the king, Wugua, claiming that it was his hostile policy towards the Han and his refusal to give up the horses that had caused the war. King Wugua was soon assassinated, and his head was brought to General Li Guangli.   Painted figure of a Han cavalryman from a general’s tomb in Xianyang, Xianyang Museum, Shaanxi, China. Source: Wikimedia Commons   The terms set by the Dayuanese nobles were straightforward: if the Chinese promised not to attack them, they would hand over their best horses and supply the army. If they did not agree, they would slaughter the horses so that no one would have them. Worse still, if the Han spent any more time on the siege, reinforcements would arrive from the allied kingdom of Kangju, and they would find themselves surrounded. One could hardly think of a more compelling proposal.   Thus, it was promptly accepted, and the city threw open its gates. The Chinese received three thousand stallions and mares, and a noble by the name of Micai was set up by the Chinese as the new king of Dayuan, as in earlier days he had treated their envoys kindly. Satisfied, laden with gifts, and resupplied, Li Guangli began the long journey home. China’s honor had been restored, and the heavenly horses had been acquired.   A Brave New World: Central Asia in the Aftermath Bust of a horse, 1st century BCE, Han China. Source: Wikimedia Commons   News of the Chinese victory reverberated among the various cities of the Tarim Basin, and as the army returned home, they willingly provided noble hostages, gifts, and supplies to win Chinese favor. The army arrived in China victorious, and Li Guangli was rewarded handsomely for his service. Back in Dayuan, the new status quo did not last long, and King Micai, seen as a collaborator and a coward, was murdered, and Chanfeng, the brother of the late King Wugua, was given the throne. Despite this, Chanfeng sent his own son as a hostage to the Han court and ensured that he would follow a policy of cooperation and trade.   Despite the initial setbacks, the Han campaign against Dayuan and the War of the Heavenly Horses gained China something much more valuable than its namesake. Cowed by the impressive show of force, the oasis cities came firmly under Chinese influence, garrisons and fortresses were established, and a reliable supply network of farms and grain silos was put in place to facilitate Han military maneuvers.   It became the basis for the establishment of the Chinese Protectorate of the Western Regions, as the borders of the empire reached a new extent. The establishment of control and order, in turn, facilitated the flourishing of overland trade networks, which soon became the lucrative Silk Road. Luxury goods from as far afield as the Roman Empire, as well as scholars, diplomats, and explorers, would make their way back and forth, uniting different parts of Eurasia with each other like never before.   Bibliography   Hansen, V., The Silk Road: A New History, (Oxford: 2012).   Loewe, M., “The Former Han dynasty” in Twitchett, D., Fairbank, J. K. (eds.), The Cambridge History of China: Vol. I – The Ch’in and Han Empires, 221 B.C. – A.D. 220, (Cambridge: 2008).   Rong, X., Galambos, I. (trans.), Eighteen lectures on Dunhuang, (Boston: 2013).   Sima Qian, Watson, B. (trans.), Records of the Grand Historian: Han Dynasty II, Revised Edition, (Hong Kong, New York: 1961) – see Chapter 123: The Account of Dayuan.

When it comes to spreading leftist propaganda, the line between committed Marxists and useful tools often seems blurry. For instance, during Sunday's Super Bowl halftime show -- the one that apparently took place in-stadium, as opposed to the one sponsored by Turning Point USA and viewed by millions of conservatives...