Frankopan's The Silk Roads

Before you say it, yes I am aware that Peter Frankopan's The Silk Roads was published in 2015; in my defence, the tome is 645 pages long and I've been reading it on and off since February.
The Silk Roads is a rich, enthralling attempt to reconfigure Western views of 'world history'. Frankopan argues, with varying success, that many major world events have their origins and pivotal moments in the distant lands of central Asia, from the eponymous Silk Roads (I prefer the term Silk Routes, since roads are much more formal and generally paved) to the recent, ongoing / seemingly neverending 'War on Terrorism'.

The old and new at Bairam Ali, near ancient Merv on the Silk Routes in Turkmenistan (2000)

Some of the events and themes Frankopan adopts and weaves as threads through centuries of world history are obvious - religions, trade, the Mongol hordes, 'black gold'. Even with the familiar, however, Frankopan's detailed historical research brings fresh, fascinating insights to the general reader as well as those who have travelled along parts of the Silk Roads and know it relatively well - I'd forgotten the key role Israel played in building Iran's nuclear capabilities in the 1980s, as a counter-poise to Saddam's Iraq. The irony of expediency through a historical lens...
Historians with the benefit of hindsight, however, need to be careful not to write of historical trajectories as if they are self-evident and inevitable. In reality, events often could have turned out quite differently, were it not for key individuals, crucial decisions (good or bad), and chance - what the Annales historian Ferdinand Braudel perhaps prematurely dismissed as événements, against the slow-moving, constraining, formative la longue durée. I suspect Frankopan could have quoted numerous other sources who predicted radically alternative outcomes, if events had turned out differently.
The breadth of Frankopan's study is huge and impressive, although it inevitably includes a few somewhat incongruous gaps. The well-established prehistory of the Silk Roads is largely overlooked, as he chooses to start with the times of Alexander the Great. He ignores the Anglo-Afghan wars of the mid-eighteenth / early-nineteenth which in so many ways foreshadowed more recent debacles and external interventions in Afghanistan - see for example David Loyn's excellent "Butcher and Bolt – 200 years of foreign engagement in Afghanistan".

Abandoned Soviet tank on the way to the Salang Pass, Afghanistan (2003)

More critically, the latter part of Frankopan's book understandably focusses on the nefarious rush by the West to exploit (in many ways) the emerging oil reserves of Persia and Mesopotamia, but he completely loses sight of the rest of the region. The collapse of the Soviet Union, and emergence of the resource-rich 'Stans', and the remarkable transformation and economic rise of China are glossed over, although perhaps given more prominence in the more recent The New Silk Roads. In this regard, I cannot help feeling that indigenous histories are required if you truly want to counter western / euro-centric biases, as Amin Maalouf's The Crusades through Arab Eyes did.
A key theme in the latter part of The Silk Roads is how badly the West has treated the region. Given recent, largely American, interventions, it would be easy to overlook the British imperial record which is both duplicitous and horrendous, as detailed in William Dalyrmple's recent The Anarchy: The Relentless Rise of the East India Company. And equally, it is remarkable how forgiving the peoples of central Asia have been, and welcoming towards Western visitors.

Lunch with General Nur, Chaghcharan, Afghanistan (2005 - photo: Alison Gascoigne)

But, ultimately, what is most significant about Frankopan's book is that it successfully challenges us to reflect on, and perhaps re-position, our Western-centric views of world history, in a highly interesting and engaging way.

Beyond the archaeology of despair in Afghanistan

Not much good news has come out of Afghanistan since the Soviet invasion in 1979. In addition to the vicious conflicts, humanitarian crises, diaspora, explosion in drug cultivation, use and trafficking, and the associated corruption, Afghanistan’s rich archaeological and cultural heritage has been devastated. Remarkable Greco-Bactrian cities such as Aï Khanoum have been systematically looted on an industrial scale, while the Buddhas of Bamiyan were blown up by the Taliban in 2001. Even Kabul Museum was caught in the cross-fire between rival militia and then ransacked by looters and iconoclasts.

Just a few days ago, one of the fortification towers in the medieval city walls at Ghazni collapsed, while a month ago floods threatened the magnificent UNESCO World Heritage listed Minaret of Jam. Exacerbating the threats from nature, the Taliban killed 18 people near Jam, who were protecting workers trying to divert the flood waters away from the minaret.

The Minaret of Jam is located at the confluence of the Hari Rud and the Jam Rud, which is just a stream in summer but the major threat to its foundations during spring floods © David Thomas / MJAP 2005

Amidst this catalogue of carnage, it would be easy to despair about the future of archaeology in Afghanistan. But as the recently revised Archaeological Gazetteer of Afghanistan reminds us, to do so would be premature and short-sighted. The astonishingly rich archaeology of Afghanistan has endured threats and destruction for millennia, and it still has the power to dazzle and amaze us – as the tens of thousands of people who saw the touring Hidden Treasures from the National Museum, Kabul exhibition at venues such as the Metropolitan Museum, New York, can testify.

In the light of this, it is worth highlighting some of the impressive achievements of archaeologists, architectural historians and museum employees working in Afghanistan and overseas on Afghan material. The French Archaeological Delegation in Afghanistan (DAFA) has led the way in archaeological work in Afghanistan since the 1922. Their pioneering work, particularly in Bactria, in the north of the country, brought to the world’s attention spectacular sites such as Aï Khanoum. More recently, they have focused on Buddhist sites, such as Mes Aynak, which is threatened by the proposed development of a copper mine. An award-winning documentary by Brent Huffman documents the challenges and threats facing those who are trying to save the site.

On the other side of the country, the German-Afghan Archaeological Mission to Afghanistan has undertaken extensive surveys in and around Herat. They have also excavated and restored parts of the huge multi-period citadel in Herat, and published several impressive tomes of research. German archaeologists also worked with the Aga Khan Trust for Culture on the restoration of the Tomb and Gardens of Babur in Kabul.

The restored Gardens of Babur, Kabul © David Thomas / MJAP 2003

The Aga Khan Trust for Culture and the Turquoise Mountain Foundation have focused on reviving Afghanistan's arts and architecture through restoration projects and vocational training. Similarly, the Afghanistan Cultural Heritage Consulting Organization is working on several documentation and restoration projects, including one at Topdara, one of the best-preserved of the Buddhist complexes in the region.

Taking a different approach, the Oriental Institute in Chicago, DAFA and others have used satellite imagery to discover and map thousands of archaeological sites across the country [for example, studies using Google Earth in the Registan Desert and Oriental Institute studies using higher resolution imagery]. Other detailed analysis of satellite images has shown that, as well as looting and warfare, uncontrolled urban development and agriculture pose major, incremental threats to archaeological sites. The Oriental Institute has also undertaken major capacity building projects with the National Afghan Institute of Archaeology and the National Museum, teaching Afghan archaeologists and museum curators twenty-first-century skills.

In 2017, United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan used drones and digital photography to scan the Minaret of Jam, while laser scanners have recorded the eleventh-century Ghaznavid towers at Ghazni. Digital technology could also be used to create 3D reconstructions of sites such as Jam and Ghazni, building on recent fieldwork to re-imagine what these thriving ancient cultural centres may have looked like.

Reconstruction of what twelfth-century Firuzkuh / Jam may have looked like (note we are revising the mosque so that it be more in keeping with local architectural traditions © Catriona Bonfiglioli / MJAP 2006

The Soviet invasion and its aftermath may have severely curtailed archaeological fieldwork in Afghanistan, but a wealth of discoveries and publications continue to flow (some freely available over the internet - see, for example, the Oriental Institute’s Preserving the Cultural Heritage of Afghanistan, which includes 24 papers by Afghan and international scholars). These publications highlight the spectacular wealth and importance of Afghanistan’s archaeological and cultural heritage. As Morwari Zafar has recently argued, Afghanistan’s heritage is important if the country is to build a peaceful future – so, rather than despair, Afghanistan needs internationally funded, robust, sustainable cultural heritage protection and educational programs more than ever.

What price 'world' heritage?

The good news is that the flash floods which were threatening the collapse of the magnificent Minaret of Jam in central Afghanistan have receded.

The Minaret of Jam stands 65m high and was built by the Ghurid dynasty in 1173/74 © David Thomas / MJAP 2005

Hundreds of Afghan workers succeeded in diverting the flow of the Jam Rud away from the minaret, revealing that 15 metres of gabions protecting the base of the minaret along the Jam Rud had been ripped out by the floods.

The gabions (metal cages of rocks along the banks of the rivers) require repair each year © David Thomas / MJAP 2005

But important questions remain as to how the world nearly lost another UNESCO World Heritage site, and whether the concept of 'world' heritage is genuine, when just under 40% of World Heritage sites are in Europe and major donors such as the United States play politics with UNESCO funding.

Humans seem to be particularly prone to doing too little too late, when it comes to heritage. Just last month the World Heritage listed Notre Dame cathedral in Paris was severely damaged by fire, while in September 2018, fire also consumed the Museu Nacional, Brazil’s oldest and most important historical and scientific museum. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, to lose one site may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness. As Ashley Fern, columnist on Elite Daily, noted: “People say you don’t know what you’ve got until it's gone. Truth is, you knew what you had, you just never thought you’d lose it.” 

This maxim has applied to the Minaret of Jam over the years, both recently and eight hundred years ago. Floods in spring, as snow melts and torrential rain can fall, are not a surprise - they threatened the minaret in 2014, and in 2007 (click here to see remarkable panoramic photos of the Hari Rud in spate in 2014). The thirteenth-century chronicler al-Juzjani even tells us the Friday Mosque at Firuzkuh (modern Jam) was destroyed in a flood in 1200. 

Collapsed columns on backed brick paving east of the minaret. The sands and gravels in section were deposited by floods
© David Thomas / MJAP 2005

More recently, in a rare concurrence of historical and archaeological data, the Minaret of Jam Archaeological Project, which I led to Jam in 2003 and 2005, discovered evidence of the flood al-Juzjani mentioned. We also recorded the ruins of a baked-brick bridge opposite the minaret and stone terrace river defences 950 metres upstream from the minaret. The Ghurid inhabitants of Firuzkuh / Jam knew they had to try to control the floods and invested significant resources into so doing.

The remains of the baked-brick Ghurid bridge opposite the minaret © David Thomas / MJAP 2005

A few days ago, the modern authorities responsible for Jam announced a three year plan with $2m of funding to "renovate" the Minaret. It is unclear what the plan entails and why it has taken so long for this action - Jam has been on the World Heritage in Danger list since its successful nomination as Afghanistan's first World Heritage site in 2002. Hundreds of thousands of dollars have been spent on studies and technical reference group meetings of international experts, but actual work on the ground at Jam has been minimal. Just last year, the World Heritage Committee urged the State Party, again, to address concerns about the stability of the minaret and implement the conservation action plan, while calling "upon the international community to provide technical and financial support".

Although central Afghanistan is relatively safe, working there still carries certain risks © David Thomas / MJAP 2005

Attempts have been made to protect the Minaret of Jam in the past, and it is important to acknowledge that working at this remote site is a security and logistical nightmare. Just yesterday, 18 people died in Taliban attacks on security posts in the area.

Travel to Jam tests the endurance of vehicles and passengers © Kevin White/ MJAP 2005

A restoration project planned for 1979, for example, had to be abandoned due to the Soviet invasion. In 1995, an Afghan heritage expert recommended a gabion wall be built, but then Jam fell on the frontline in the Afghan civil war. Limited gabions were built in 2000, and have since been expanded, but the recent floods demonstrate more protection is required.

Unless this happens, we will face the loss of another World Heritage Site and another (more) expensive, ultimately hollow, reconstruction project.

Review of Ode to Odin

Ode to Odin by Bruce McLaren

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Who doesn't love archaeology, travel to exotic destinations, comic misadventures, hissy fits and clashing egos? Bruce McLaren provides the reader with an effervescent, fly-on-the-wall insight into life on a dig in Karakalpakstan, part of the great Silk Routes. As in his previous books, McLaren skillfully weaves a narrative through the history and geography of the region, musings on life, an array of colourful characters and evocative descriptions. Many archaeological biographies and travelogues are as dry as the dirt they're set in, but not this book. Whether you agree with the author in his subtly evolving portrait of the eponymous dig director, Odin, this book will entertain, educate and challenge you in equal measure. But, most of all, it's great fun and easy to read.
Disclosure: Bruce is a longstanding friend and I've worked out in this part of the world on similar digs - in some ways, I think this makes me a more critical reader than most; I can honestly say he nails dig life out there to a T.



View all my reviews

A little bit of nostalgic fun

http://www.pstravelalmanac.com/2017/09/interview-002/

ancient stones in soggy sand

Nearly twenty years ago, I spent several summers digging Mesolithic sites in Scotland. We gridded the sites up into 50cm squares, shovelled out the deposits and sieved the lot, by hand and hose, sifting out tiny bits of flint from the mass of residue. Some of the lithics were recognisable tools (microliths, scrappers, limpet hammers, cores, etc.) and the vast majority consisted of crappy debitage, the detritus of pre-historic subsistence strategies and manufacturing. (See the 2 vols edited by Steve Mithen for a full report - http://www.thefreelibrary.com/Hunter-gatherer+landscape+archaeology%3A+the+Southern+Hebrides...-a084341540).
So it's with a sense of deja vu that I've spent the past couple of weeks digging 50cm squares in the sands of Cranbourne, looking for Indigenous artefacts - half a world away, different raw materials, but similar techniques in the way the stone tools were knapped thousands of years ago and the way we have been digging them up.
The sites here in Oz are more diffuse scatters of uncertain date than the intensive occupation sites we worked on in the Hebrides. The artefacts number in the hundreds rather than the hundreds of thousands, and can move up and down in sand quite significantly over time, thanks to the activity of burrowing insects and animals, as is evident from the shot-gun cartridges we found over 25cm down. We've found no evidence of hearths or other in situ features which we could date, but the silcrete bladelets and cores are beautiful nonetheless, impressive testimony to the resourcefulness and adaptability of Australia's indigenous inhabitants.
At times the weather's been comparable too (although it's mid-winter here, rather than mid-summer when we dug in the Hebrides), but it makes little difference when you're wet-sieving, so long as you have the proper gear. Perhaps it's no coincidence then that the team here includes 2 from Ireland, 1 from Scotland and a Canadian! You'd think we'd've had enough of getting cold and wet... at least the pay is considerably better.

vids

More Finn mania available for viewing at

http://www.youtube.com/dcshifty