as an antecedent to the elongated dragon found in Han-period China.82 The dragon is seen in the arts of Central Asia from the late third/early second millennium, but it is, as Sara Kuehn points out in her study of the dragon in eastern Christian and Islamic contexts, “one of the most ancient iconographies of mankind.”83 She argues that, as well as being used in Xiongnu-period art, it is a motif of the Yuezhi who founded the Kushan Empire (see chapter 3). The dragon in profile on the earrings (figure 2) shows some features of the lupine style, with its long nose and horn. In the jade, the carving, and the depiction of the dragon the piece is also similar to a piece found in the Xiongnu graves of Noin-Ula, considerably further north on the Selenga River in present-day Mongolia.84 The identity of the animal on the second plaque—shown face on—is less clearly a dragon: the small ears are more tiger-like (figure 2). Dragons and tigers are often found together, as in the Ivolga belt plaque, mentioned above, but sometimes an animal with a long sinuous body and such a head is described as a dragon with a tiger head or, in Bunker’s terminology, a “feline dragon.”85 The tiger shown on the belt plaque from tomb 2 at Xigoupan (figure 3) shows something of this sinuousness, with its body twisted around in almost a full circle.
Little scientific testing on the jades has been carried out, and most identifications of its source are based on the style. But this is always open to revision. Some scholars, for example, have long concurred that many of the 755 “ jade” carvings in the twelfth-century BC tomb of Fu Hao on the Yellow River near Anyang are made from nephrite from Khotan.86 Fu Hao was a woman in the Shang elite, married to the king and buried around 1200 BC. But scientific testing on the “ jades” in her tomb suggests that a variety of jade-like stones were used, such as a marble-type nephrite “Anyang jade,” sassurite mined in the mountains of Henan in central China. There are few nephrite pieces, and their origin is uncertain.87 This would seem to be supported by the argument, mentioned above in relation to the diffusion of mirrors, that the Hexi corridor route between the steppe and China was not very active at this time, having been replaced by the Northern Zone route. However, it must be said that jade from Khotan could also have traveled north, on routes across the Taklamakan and the Tianshan to the steppe and then to China.
A few centuries later, an early Chinese text, Guanzi, attributed to Guan Zhong (ca. 720–645 BC), refers to the Yuezhi as a people who supplied jade to the Chinese. The Yuezhi lived in the Hexi corridor and would have been ideally placed to control the trade. This suggests that the route had opened up again. By the time of our earrings, however, the Yuezhi had been driven out by the Xiongnu, thus giving the Xiongnu control of this important route— and of the jade supply into China. This was a good reason for the Chinese Qin and then the Han to try to seize control of the route. After the Han successes, it seems there was a plentiful supply of Khotan jade in China, exemplified by Han burial suits.88 The Han also protected the routes by building walls to the north of the Ordos and from Wuwei to the northwest of Dunhuang—the Hexi corridor.89
WOMEN ON THE STEPPE
The fact that the most richly endowed tomb excavated so far in the Xigoupan complex is that of a woman calls for comment. The comparable treatment of men and women in death is not unique to Xigoupan. Kathryn Linduff discusses the cemetery at Daodunzi in the southwestern Ordos. On the basis of Chinese coin finds, it can be dated from the end of the second century to the first century BC, and twenty-seven graves have been excavated here, nine of which are of women and seven of men. The tombs include pit burials, as at Xigoupan with supine bodies facing northwest, but also catacomb tombs, and the female burials include chambers for the remains of sacrificed animals: cattle, sheep, and horses. Belt plaques, knives, coins, and cowrie shells are found in both male and female burials, whereas beads and gold earrings are only in female tombs. None are as richly endowed as Xigoupan, and Linduff concludes that these were intercultural families, less powerful than those represented at Xigoupan, but where men and women were treated equally in death. She concludes that “no essentialized view of the Xiongnu is, therefore, adequate, to explain the complex nature of their identity as expressed in burial customs found even at the one site of Daodunzi. Although the Chinese records give us a single view, archaeological research gives us a rich and more nuanced view of the Xiongnu, or whoever these peoples were, including a window on how one’s age and sex affected the solemn ritual of burial.”90
In fact, richly endowed tombs for women are found elsewhere from the second millennium. The tomb of Fu Hao, mentioned above, is an obvious example. The fact that she is buried with many steppe accouterments has led some to argue that she was from the steppe herself: marriage is always part of the exchange that goes on between neighboring peoples, whether formally for diplomatic purposes, as in the Xiongnu-Chinese heqin treaties; as part of the plunder of war, with captured women becoming sexual partners, free or otherwise (see chapter 10); or just as a result of the intermixing of neighboring populations.91
Another female burial that has led to discussion about the role of women on the steppe is at Tillya Tepe, on the borders of present-day Afghanistan and Turkmenistan and dating to the middle of the first century AD. Scholars have argued that these are burials of Yuezhi peoples. A battle-ax and Siberian daggers were found in this woman’s grave, and she has been described as a “woman warrior.” Karen Rubinson offers an interesting discussion of this attribution in her article on gender and cultural identity. She briefly traces the discussion on the status of women on the steppe and points out that military equipment is found in many female tombs. However, she follows others in making an important point, quoting Feldore McHugh’s study of mortuary practices—namely that a “danger lies in attempting to make a direct connection between particular objects placed in the grave and a function that they might have performed during life as used by the deceased.”92 McHugh gives an example of a culture where a spear and a battle-ax in the grave represent the status of an unmarried male rather than a warrior. Rubinson follows this to argue that some of the objects in the Tillya Tepe burials were intended to indicate cultural identity rather than the role of the tomb occupant—an identity that displayed the transition by the Yuezhi in their pastoralist role to a more settled lifestyle.93
Tomb objects, apart from indicating the actual wealth and status of the occupant in his or her lifetime, might also reflect aspirations, just like the possessions of a living person. Of course, there is the question of whether the deceased had any choice in the objects or whether this was decided by others on the occupant’s death. Then there is the inclusion of what might be considered “exotic” or “foreign” objects in tombs, such as the Hellenistic glass bowl discussed in chapter 2 or the Bactrian ewer discussed in chapter 5.
Many unanswered questions remain about these earrings. Was their original recipient the woman buried in tomb M4 at Xigoupan, or had they been passed from one owner to another and finally put in her tomb as a sign of her status? When were they worn, if at all? Where were they made and by whom? We can say that they were almost certainly made for possession by an elite woman living on the northern steppe borders of what is now China. And we can also say that, whether made by Chinese or steppe craftsmen—or both— they represent elements of both of these cultures and their rich interaction during this period.
So where does this leave us? What we can assume, given the earrings’ materials and their complexity, is that they were an indication of wealth and status. But apart from this, as with many archaeological artifacts, we are in a state of uncertainty. We cannot be certain where they were made or who made them, and whether they were made as a whole or in parts. We do not know whether they were made for trade, gift, or ritual and whether they were acquired by purchase, plunder, or some other means. Nor do we know whether the peoples of the Xigoupan burials saw these artifacts as part of their own culture or considered them somehow foreign.
RECENT HISTORY
The earrings remained buried until their discovery in 1979 and were then discussed in the 1980 excavation
