Viewing the Han Empire from the Edge a Dissertation

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VIEWING THE HAN EMPIRE FROM THE EDGE

A DISSERTATION

SUBMITTED TO THE DEPARTMENT OF HISTORY

AND THE COMMITTEE ON GRADUATE STUDIES

OF STANFORD UNIVERSITY

IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS

FOR THE DEGREE OF

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Meiyu Hsieh

August 2011

This dissertation is online at: http://purl.stanford.edu/sv629rv4537

ii I certify that I have read this dissertation and that, in my opinion, it is fully adequate in scope and quality as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Mark Lewis, Primary Adviser

I certify that I have read this dissertation and that, in my opinion, it is fully adequate in scope and quality as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Matthew Sommer

I certify that I have read this dissertation and that, in my opinion, it is fully adequate in scope and quality as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Richard Vinograd

Approved for the Stanford University Committee on Graduate Studies. Patricia J. Gumport, Vice Provost Graduate Education

This signature page was generated electronically upon submission of this dissertation in electronic format. An original signed hard copy of the signature page is on file in University Archives.

iii

Abstract

This dissertation examines in the continental context the building and maintenance of the Han state, which existed in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions roughly from the second century B.C.E. to the second century C.E. It surveys the trajectory that transformed the Han state from a regional polity confined to the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to a trans-regional superpower, exerting its influence across East Eurasia. I focus specifically on the interstate interaction between the

Yellow River region (the Han), on the steppe (the Xiongnu), and in the Tarim Basin

(multiple oasis-states) from the beginning of the second century B.C.E. to the early first century C.E. as my case study.

Making use of both transmitted and excavated Han texts, I demonstrate that two major mechanisms facilitated the transformative process of the Han state in the political landscape of East Eurasia. One was horizontal kin ties between the Han emperor and peer rulers. The other was the vertically-structured imperial bureaucracy that organized communities in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions for imperial power-building.

In particular, the imperial bureaucracy evolved into the nodal mechanism to sustain imperial initiatives. On the one hand, it vertically incorporated into its writing- based system individuals of diverse social, cultural, and geographic backgrounds in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions as the support base of the Han emperor. On the other hand, it horizontally facilitated the emperor’s kinship-based alliance network

v across East Eurasia. This bureaucratic mechanism became the backbone that continued to weave together complex communities in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions regardless of the rise and fall of ruling houses.

Acknowledgments

I owe thanks to many supervisors and friends who have read and provided comments on the drafts of this dissertation. Professors Mark Edward Lewis, Matthew

Sommer, and Richard Vinograd have been very patient and kind. I have also learned so much from Brigid Vance, Philip Thai, Ying Hu, Jon Felt, Quinn Javers, Nagano

Naomi and Sakakibara Sayoko.

I am very grateful to the institutions and scholars who helped me get access to sources: Zhang Defang and Han Hua in the Archaeological Institute of Gansu

Province; Ishigami Eiichi of the Historiographical Institute at the University of Tokyo;

Itakura Masaaki and Masuya Tomoko of the Institute of Oriental Culture at the

University of Tokyo; and Shiba Yoshinobu of the Oriental Library.

This dissertation research was aided a Fellowship for East and Southeast Asian

Archaeology and Early History from the American Council of Learned Societies, with funding from the Henry Luce Foundation; Mrs. Giles Whiting Fellowship, and grants from the Freeman Spogli Institute at Stanford University, Stanford Center for East

Asian Studies, and Stanford History Department.

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Table of Contents

Abstract v

Acknowledgements vii

Table of Contents viii

Introduction 1

Chapter One:

A New Governing Coalition in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers Regions 13

Historical Background

(1) Lateral Distribution of Power in the Top Governing Elite Circle of the Han

(2) Competition between the Han Emperor and the Xiongnu Chanyu for

Allegiance

Re-evaluating the Significance of Heqin (Peace and Kinship)

(1) Marriage Alliances with the Xiongnu Chanyu

(2) Marriage Alliances with Subordinate Han Rulers

(3) Negotiation of Power Spheres in the Name of Fraternity

Chapter Two:

From a Confined Polity to a Trans-regional Superpower 69

viii

Structural Background: From Coalition to Centralized Bureaucracy

(1) Imperial Promotion of Bureaucrats against Subordinate Rulers

(2) Empowered Bureaucrats, Enfeebled Subordinate Rulers

Han Participation in Cosmopolitan Elite Circle of East Eurasia

(1) Signs of Departure from the “Two Masters” Model

(2) Transformation from a Regional State to a Trans-regional Power

(3) Establishing a Han-centered Interstate Network in East Eurasia

Chapter Three:

Maintaining a Cosmopolitan Empire in East Eurasia 124

Social Background—(Mis-) Handling a Complex World

(1) Financial and Resource Burdens of Imperial Power-building

(2) Resource Re-allocation for Funding Imperial Power-building Activities

In Search for Sustainable Power-building in East Eurasia

(1) Severed Imperial Relations with Subjects in the Yellow River region

(2) Bureaucratic Resistance to Extreme Disciplinary Measures

(3) Alternative Approaches to Enhancing Imperial Power-building

Chapter Four:

Power Dynamics in Interstate Networks of East Eurasia 201

Infrastructural Background

(1) Collaboration for Mutual Power-Building in Pan-East Eurasian Elite

Networks

(2) Administrative Facilities for Maintaining Long-distance Political Interactions

Negotiating Relational Hierarchies in the Political Landscape of East Eurasia

Conclusion 259

Bibliography 262

Introduction

The initial purpose of this dissertation is to examine in the continental context the building and maintenance of the Han state, which existed in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions roughly from the second century B.C.E. to the second century C.E. Instead of

“state,” however, I propose to use “power centers,” i.e., leadership or governing elite groups of varied scales, as the principal analytical unit for state-to-state interaction of the

Han with polities in diverse geographic regions across East Eurasia.

This analytical unit provides us two advantageous approaches to understanding the forces that furthered the survival and expansion of Han imperial authority in the political landscape of East Eurasia from the second century B.C.E. First, by investigating interactions among governing elite groups at local, regional, and continental levels, we see an East Eurasia that was crisscrossed by complex layers of network linkages that frequently cut through political, cultural, and geographical differences. Second, by examining power- building activities of individuals and groups through these interactive networks, we see dynamic processes of competition, negotiation, and collaboration among different types and scales of power centers striving for resources and status.

Through horizontal networks between peer leaders and vertical integration of lesser power centers, many presumed social or political divides were transcended in regular activities of competitive collaboration and collaborative competition. Interactive political behavior of individuals and their groups formed diverse support bases for varied scales of power centers. In the case of the Han, these support bases supplied human, animal, and material resources necessary for constructing institutions and infrastructures that sustained the existence and expanded the influence of the emperor and his imperial court.

By the same token, only when the emperor and his imperial court were capable of securing stable ties with and predictable resource supplies from different types and scales of support bases could the Han state survive and extend its influence in the political landscape of East Eurasia. When mutual interests and reciprocity were no longer found between the Han emperor and his many support bases, all ties that culminated in this top leader could be loosened and severed, leading to either reduced influence of the Han court or even the disintegration of the state. In the interest of brevity, I illustrate my points through the case study of the interstate interaction between the Yellow River region (the

Han), on the steppe (the Xiongnu), and in the Tarim Basin (multiple oasis-states) from the beginning of the second century B.C.E. to the early first century C.E.

This project is different from previous studies of the Han state precisely because of

this specific emphasis on interactive networks among power centers, a conceptual framework that has been commonly used in anthropological and archaeological research of various topics, especially the emergence of hierarchized socio-political entities. Several books about the Han have surveryed such themes as imperial ideologies, bureaucratic structure, taxation and corvée systems, and its foreign relations. All these studies provide valuable foundations for this project. However, an over-emphasis on the Han in isolation projects the impression that structural changes in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in those four centuries were “internal” and unaffected by the world beyond. Scholarship on foreign relations of the Han does not challenge this impression. Rather, such an impression is ironically reinforced by an unstated tendency to treat warfare and tributary practices between the Han and adjacent powers as “external” activities and policies separate from the

“internal” ones.

But if we look at the three Han chronicles, the world that the Shiji (Records of the

Grand Historian), Hanshu (Book of the Han), and Hou Hanshu (Book of the Later Han) present to us by no means resembles this picture of an enclosed Han or a clear-cut divide between “internal” and “external.” It is far more complex and dynamic. What we see are numerous aspiring individuals who constantly interacted with peers, superiors, and subordinates of different backgrounds, making decisions and taking actions to expand their

influence in the political, economic, social, or cultural realms.

Take for example alliance activities documented in the three chronicles. Multiple cases show that it was not rare for individuals and groups to change political affiliations back and forth between different state rulers or to ally with foreign groups. From top governing elites to local community leaders, these strategies were used for survival or power-building. At the level of top governing elites, in the beginning of the second century B.C.E. there were cases of subordinate Han kings switching support to the Xiongnu chanyu (i.e. the supreme ruler on the steppe), while in the late second century B.C.E. some lesser steppe kings also transferred their allegiance to the Han emperor.1 In the first century B.C.E., a few steppe leaders who had joined the Han state structure as affiliated states returned to the Xiongnu.2

The action of joining or cooperating with foreign groups was not confined to higher governing elites and their thousands of followers. It also occurred at the level of ordinary people. In documented officials’ policy proposals to the Han emperor, it seemed not infrequent for Han subjects in frontier commanderies to escape into the steppe in search of a better life. According to one official of the late first century B.C.E., Han checkpoints along the southern edge of the steppe also functioned to prevent slaves, servants, and

1 See Chapters One and Two. 2 Han shu 9, p. 280. In this dissertation, all references to standard histories are to the Zhonghua shuju 中華書局 editions.

impoverished ordinary Han subjects from entering the Xiongnu realm.3 Another example is in the early second century C.E. Due to Han officials’ mismanagement of the western frontier commanderies, local Han subjects and foreign groups organized joint resistance against imperial forces.4 All these forms of collaboration and confrontation become obscure when we operate under the impression that “internal” and “external” affairs were detached from each other. In this regard, the analytical unit of “power center” offers a third advantage: the picture based on this conceptual framework better resembles the world portrayed in our primary sources. Furthermore, once we focus on power centers and interactive networks, a large body of information in the three Han chronicles that has been dismissed as trivial and marginal in previous studies becomes significant and must be incorporated into scholarship.

I draw information from two types of primary sources. While the aforementioned Han chronicles are the core sources for this dissertation, I also make use of excavated Han administrative documents when relevant to the analyses. Texts from three sites are cited. I rely on the “Ordinances on Fords and Passes 津關令” of the Zhangjiashan 張家山 documents to discuss what resources were considered strategically important and had to be placed under

3 Han shu 94b, p. 3804. 4 Hou Han shu 87, p. 2888.

government surveillance in the formative era of the Han state.5 Second, while both the Juyan

居延 and Xuanquan 懸泉 documents contain vast varieties of adminstrative documents dealing with routine tasks in Han forts and post stations, I use mainly texts related to conscripts, horses, travel time, and provision management to provide a glimpse of the ways in which a regional- scale infrastructure streamlined and organized large amounts of resources for sustaining the

Han emepror’s influence in East Eurasia.6 The cited texts showcase the writing-based administrative “technology” that allowed all Han bureaucrats to collaborate, without having to know each other in person, both in tracking down and moving around every single documented

5 The Zhangjiashan documents, consisted of over 1,200 bamboo strips, were discovered in 1983 in Tomb No. 247 in Jiangling of Hubei Province. This tomb is dated to around 186 B.C.E. Among the discovered document sets, the legal texts have attracted particular scholarly interest, as they provide a glimpse of government attempts to regulate and organize society in the beginning of the Han state. For further information about the excavation and the contents of the documents, see Zhangjiashan 247 hao Han mu zhujian zhengli xiaozu 張家山二四七號漢墓竹簡整理小組 (eds.), Zhangjiashan Han mu zhujia (247 hao mu) 張家山漢墓竹簡[二四七號墓] (Beijing: Wenwu, 2001). For the legal texts in particular, see Peng Hao 彭浩, Chen Wei 陳偉, Kudo Motoo 工藤元男 (eds.), Ernian lüling yu zouyanshu: Zhangjiashan 247 hou Han mu chutu falü wenxian shidu 二年律令與奏讞書—張家山二四七號漢墓出土法律文獻釋讀 (Shanghai: Shanghai guji, 2007). 6 The Juyan documents were excavated in two major surveys in the 1930s and 1970s. Over 36,000 wooden slips were collected around Han forts along the Ejina River (or Edzin-Gol in Mongolian), which stretch from Gansu Province to the Autonomous Region of Inner Mongolia. These texts, mostly about routine operations in these military forts, were produced roughly between 100 B.C.E. and 170 C.E. The Xuanquan 懸泉 documents were discovered in the 1990s from a Han-period post station in Dunhuang of Gansu Province. So far only 2% of the excavated 23,000 slips are published for scholarly use. The texts were produced roughly from the early first century B.C.E. to the late first century C.E. Besides routine maintenance of the post station, the published texts offer information about emissaries of the Han and polities in the Tarim Basin who travelled through this post station. Future publication of the Xuanquan documents will doubtlessly shed much more light on our understanding of interstate interaction via this particular site. For further information about the excavation and contents of the Juyan and Xuanquan documents, see Lao Gan 勞榦 (ed.), Juyan Han jian 居延漢簡 (Taipei: Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, 1957 and 1960); Zhongguo shehui kexueyuan kaogu yanjiusuo 中國社會科學院考古研究所 (eds.), Juyan Han jian jiayibian 居延漢簡甲乙編 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1980); Gansusheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo et al. 甘肅省文物考古研究所等 (eds.), Juyan xin jian: Jiaqu houguan 居延新簡—甲渠候官 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1994); Hu Pingsheng 胡平生 and Zhang Defang 張德芳 (eds.), Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui 敦煌懸泉漢簡釋粹 (Shanghai: Shanghai guji, 2001). For an English overview of the Juyan documents and translation of selected slips, see Michael Loewe, Records of Han Administration (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967).

individual across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions and in ensuring smooth circulation of intelligence and provisions for imperial power-building.

The dissertation is organized in four chapters. Chapter 1 examines the complex processes of the Han emperor’s competition against and collaboration with top governing elites in East

Asia through which his rule was consolidated in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in the first half of the second century B.C.E. On the one hand, the emperor and subordinate Han kings started as peer rulers who formed a coalition, with the emperor as the nominal leader, to govern the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions together and compete against adjacent powers such as the Xiongnu on the steppe. On the other, the Han court allied with the rulers of neighboring polities as one strategy to undermine “peer” Han kings’ power-building in the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, elevating the relativ status of the emperor.

These power dynamics were evident in the interactions between the Han emperor, the

Xiongnu chanyu, and Han kings in the Yellow River region. As argued in this chapter, the

Heqin (和親, or peace-and-kinship) activities between the Han and the Xiongnu were not merely for the Han court to stop the military confrontation of the two powers, a perspective that has dominated current scholarship. These activities were more importantly one crucial component of the Han emperor’s centralization projects that made possible the half-century- long process of reducing “peer” Han kings to a powerless nobility. The earliest Han

centralizing attempts were to re-organize the top governing elite of the state from a coalition composed of the first Han emperor’s clients and friends to a kin-only group. In the process, many former clients and friends of the first Han emperor were forced to switch their allegiance to or seek military assistance from the Xiongnu. However, as male royalties of the Han ruling house were equally reluctant to be demoted from the status of peers of the emperor, the Han court used the Xiongnu chanyu (i.e. the supreme ruler of the steppe) both to assert the emperor’s supremacy over subordinate Han kings and to undermine these peers’ power- building in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. By forging marriage alliance with the chanyu and forbidding subordinate Han kings’ contact with foreign rulers unauthorized by the emperor, the Han court minimized the possibility of a joint challenge from subordinate Han kings in the east and the Xiongnu in the north, increasing instead its own capacity to suppress political rivals in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

The focus of Chapter 2 is the transitional phase of the Han state from a confined polity in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to an imperialist power that began to build its trans- regional alliance network across the steppe and the Tarim Basin from the mid to late second century B.C.E. This phase can be divided into two stages. The earlier stage was characterized by a transformation of the governing elite circle in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions from a horizontal coalition between the emperor and subordinate Han kings to a vertically-organized

bureaucracy. Three generations of Han emperors collaborated with pro-imperial bureaucrats to eliminate subordinate Han kings’ power-building options. While preventing foreign rulers from assisting subordinate Han kings, the emperor employed imperial bureaucrats to intervene in the kings’ courts, reduce the size of subordinate states, and use subordinate kings more closely related to the sitting emperor against the rest. The eastward expansion of imperial bureaucracy prepared the regional infrastructure for the later stage, in which the Han emperor re-negotiated his relations with the Xiongnu chanyu by forging a Han-centered coalition beyond the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

This later stage was initiated through Han infiltration of the Xiongnu sphere of power. By recruiting lesser steppe leaders into the Han governing elite circle, Han emperors exploited the expertise and knowledge supplied by this new type of collaborator to challenge the Xiongnu chanyu’s trans-regional coalition on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. Since around 130 B.C.E. the Han court used military coercion as one means to loosen the bonds between the Xiongnu chanyu and governing elites on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, swaying them to join instead the Han network as affiliated or allied states.

Chapter 3 explicates the interplay between Han power-building in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia and the changes in both the bureaucratic structure and the relations between the government and the governed in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. This

interplay was threefold. First, the resource-demanding nature of long-distance warfare forced the Han court of the late second century B.C.E. to heighten imperial capabilities to expropriate resources not formerly controlled by the government. This goal was achieved through reorganizing and expanding the imperial bureaucracy by recruiting from diverse backgrounds new collaborators for imperial initiatives.

Second, reciprocity between the Han court and the governed was greatly reduced by the constant removal of resources and service from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to be used for imperial initiatives in distant lands. This decreased the willingness of the governed to cooperate with the government, provoking challenges by bureaucrats and local communities against aggressive imperial pressure. Third, to avoid a total collapse of its rule in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the Han court of the first century B.C.E. increased the degree of reciprocity with local communities in the form of state-organized disaster relief. While restoring damaged bonds with the governed, the Han court also began to re-organize its resource distribution patterns at the trans-regional level for enhancing power-building in East

Eurasia. The key was to exploit the locational advantage of allied states for Han maneuvers on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. However, as the cooperation of allies was highly contingent compared to that of the governed in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the Han court developed its capacity to alter in its interests political dynamics among polities on the steppe

and in the Tarim Basin. This aspect is elaborated in Chapter 4.

The final chapter discusses the processes through which the Han court maintained its horizontal ties with allies on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin while negotiating relational hierarchies with each other. Allied states, the troops stationed in the Han outposts in the Tarim

Basin, the administrative infrastructural line along the Hexi Corridor, and imperial emissaries who travelled in between the Han emperor and allies’ courts were combined into one system to collect and circulate intelligence for maximizing Han capacity to alter in its interests political dynamics in distant lands. The Han court used both the institutionalized interstate mechanism of exchanging royal children and the services of aspiring foreign elites to intervene in the governing elites of allied states, thereby cultivating its continental influence in East Eurasia.

Only when the Han court failed to maintain an acceptable balance with allies in their mutual power-building did this Han-centered alliance network in East Eurasia disintegreate in the early first century C.E.

Through all these dynamic processes of Han power-building in East Eurasia, the imperial bureaucracy evolved into the nodal mechanism to sustain imperial initiatives. On the one hand, it vertically incorporated into its writing-based system individuals of diverse social, cultural, and geographic backgrounds in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions as the support base of the Han emperor. On the other hand, it horizontally facilitated the emperor’s kinship-based

alliance network across East Eurasia. This bureaucratic mechanism became the backbone that continued to weave together complex communities in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions regardless of the rise and fall of ruling houses.

Chapter One:

A New Governing Coalition in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers Regions

Kinship among higher governing elites was a crucial institution for comprehending the processes through which the political landscape of East Asia was reconfigured with the emergence of two adjacent political entities—the Han and the

Xiongnu—around the turn of the second century B.C.E. In particular, the Han state of the early second century B.C.E. heavily depended on family, kin ties, and marriage alliances to secure its survival in East Asia. This institution contributed to the negotiation of the emperor’s status hierarchy as well as his sphere of political power both with the subordinate rulers in the higher Han governing elite circle and with rulers of peer polities in neighboring regions.

This chapter is divided into two parts to investigate how kinship functioned to carve out a niche for the Han state in the political landscape of East Asia. The first part summarizes the historical background necessary for understanding the nature of interstate interaction between the Han and the Xiongnu in the early second century

B.C.E. It emphasizes the ways in which the presence of Xiongnu power near the

Yellow River region influenced the dynamics of the Han court’s attempts to restructure its governing elite circle. This part demonstrates that the ambivalent allegiance of the subordinate rulers in the Yellow River region necessitated regular and formalized interaction between the Han and the Xiongnu rulers. Within the context outlined in the first part, the second part of the chapter re-evaluates the practices of heqin 和親 (peace

13 and kinship) for the Han court to manipulate the distribution of political power in East

Asia. It further examines the Han emperor’s reliance on forging kinship connections to elevate his political status as the supreme representative of all the subordinate rulers in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in interstate interaction with powers in other regions of East Asia.

Historical Background

The political landscape of East Asia witnessed a drastic change in the late third century B.C.E. Two colossal governing entities were built in the eastern end of the

Asian continent. The Qin conquered all the rival states in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers region and expanded northward into the Ordos steppe (the area mostly encircled by the Yellow River loop) and southward toward the Pearl River region, establishing a mega-polity that ruled subjects through a writing-based bureaucratic system. To the north of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the Xiongnu also subjugated competing powers and created the first steppe superpower at roughly the same time. After the Qin quickly fell apart, its imperial legacy was reassembled by the

Han in the beginning of the second century B.C.E., even though this nascent state shrank back to the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. However, the Xiongnu and the

Han continued to squeeze each other at the southern edge of the steppe, where it met the Yellow River region.

The simultaneous presence of two regional powers was an unprecedented phenomenon in East Asia. Before the imperial era, East Asia was a land housing a myriad of smaller-sized polities. While pre-imperial states in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions had been integrated into one common state-to-state (or interstate) network by the fourth century B.C.E. through constant warfare and alliances,1 these polities did not seem to engage in regular political interactions with powers in other regions, such as the steppe, the Tarim Basin, or the Pearl River region. This picture did not change until two adjacent regional powers—the Han and the Xiongnu—came to co-exist in the east end of the Asian continent in the beginning of the second century

B.C.E.

This is not to argue that different regions of East Asia were entirely isolated from each other in pre-imperial times. Social groups in various regions such as the Yellow

River valley and the steppe had long been in contact before the imperial era.

Nonetheless, any institutionalized, regular political interaction seemed absent.

Archaeologists attest to the existence of trading activities and technological exchanges between communities in the Yellow River region and steppe groups in the pre-imperial era.2 Textual records also register sparse information about conflicts between pre- imperial states in the Yellow River region where steppe groups under the generic name

“Xiongnu 匈奴” or “Hu 胡” had participated at least from the fourth century B.C.E.3

1 Records such as Zuo zhuan 左傳 and Shi ji 史記 indicate that by the fourth century B.C.E. state rulers of the Yangtze River region such as the Chu, Wu, and Yue were regularly interacting through activities such as alliance-building and warfare with those of the Yellow River region such as the Qin and Jin (later divided into the Han, Zhao, and Wei) states. For a general description of political interactions in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers region in the pre-imperial era, see Cho-yun Hsu, “The Spring and Autumn Period” and Mark Edward Lewis, “Warring States: Political History,” both in Michael Loewe and Edward Shaughnessy (eds.), The Cambridge History of Ancient China: From the Origins of Civilization to 221 B.C. (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999), pp. 551-570 and pp. 593-619. 2 For non-state level contact in pre-imperial times, see Nicola Di Cosmo, Ancient China and Its Enemies: The Rise of Nomadic Power in East Asian History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 45-74 and pp. 128-140. 3 Shi ji mentions that “Xiongnu” groups joined the coalition forces of the pre-imperial Han, Zhao, Wei, Yan, and Qi states to attack the Qin state. An anecdote in Zhan’guo ce 戰國策 about Su Qin’ s conversation with King Min of Qi indicates that “Hu” groups attacked the Yan state and took away 15

No extant evidence, however, indicates that steppe powers were influential players in the pre-imperial political landscape of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions until toward the end of the Qin conquest in the late third century B.C.E.4 Neither did political elites of pre-imperial states in the Yellow River region view steppe powers as a principal concern, as indicated by limited information in contemporary writings about political activities on the steppe.5

Even the first mega-state in East Asia—the Qin—did not seem to cultivate institutionalized interstate interaction with steppe powers. After conquering peer polities in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the only recorded interaction between the short-lived Qin and steppe powers was military conflict—Qin expeditions that drove steppe groups out of the Ordos.6 Despite armed confrontations initiated by the First Emperor of Qin, nothing indicated imperial attempts to commence regular, non-military interstate activities with contemporary steppe powers such as Donghu,

some livestock while the Qi and the Yan states were at war against each other. In addition, while unrelated to direct political interactions, some awareness of steppe practices among political elites of the Zhao state was manifested in the court debates recorded in Shi ji and Zhan’guo ce regarding King Wuling’s adopting steppe attire and cavalry for strengthening his military might. Compared to extensive records about interactions between states in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in the fourth and third centuries B.C.E., such minimal mention of steppe groups implies that “Xiongnu” or “Hu” groups remained not a major concern in the political realm of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. See Shi ji 5, p. 207 and 43, pp. 1805-1811; Zhan’guo ce 12, p. 434 and 19, pp. 653-663. 4 A general of the Yan state, Qin Kai, was a hostage in a “Hu” power for some time. This reference could have been the earliest record of state-level activities between a steppe power and a pre-imperial state in the Yellow River region if this hostage was formally sent by the king of the Yan state. Another example is that, before the Qin conquest, the crown-prince of Yan was advised to seek alliances with the ruler of the Xiongnu. Such alliance was finally not attempted. But this anecdote suggests that some elites in Yan began to consider steppe powers as potential allies to work with, especially under the threat of Qin expansion. See Shi ji 86, p. 2529 and 110, p. 2885; Zhan’guo ce 31, p. 1129. 5 The earliest comprehensive textual record about steppe groups is Sima Qian’s Shi ji. But even in this account, the pre-imperial political realm on the steppe is thinly described. We learn nothing more than that “each [group] had its own ruler 自有君長” and that these groups were “unable to unify others under one [rule] 莫能相一.” See Shi ji 110, p. 2883. 6 Shi ji 6, pp. 252-253 and p. 280; 88, p. 2565; 110, p. 2885 and p. 2887. 16

Yuezhi, or Xiongnu.7

Thus, the Han can be considered the first polity that officially extended the institutionalized interstate network beyond the pre-imperial political landscape of the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers region. While inheriting the Qin imperial legacy, the Han state in its early stage differed from the Qin in several ways. First of all, the Han state was sandwiched into the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions by the Xiongnu in the north and the Viets in the south. After Qin expansion into the Ordos steppe and toward the Pearl River region, regardless of the short duration of imperial occupation, the Han court of the early second century B.C.E. was left to grapple with how to interact with the offended powers in these unfamiliar regions. Second, the first large-scale confrontation between the Han and the Xiongnu in 200 B.C.E., in which Han forces failed badly, compelled the imperial court to abandon the Qin model of conducting full-blown military invasions. A non-military method—heqin—was devised for the

Han court to interact with neighboring powers such as the Xiongnu for decades until the reign of Emperor Wu (r. 141 B.C.E.-87 B.C.E.).

Third, and most significantly, the Qin of the late third century B.C.E. and the Han of the early second century B.C.E. differed in their approaches to interacting with powers outside the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions not just because of their disparity in military prowess. Unlike the Qin in which political power was highly centralized in the hands of emperor, the Han state of the early second century B.C.E. relied on the support of subordinate rulers to maintain its existence in the political landscape of East Asia. Though claiming to be the supreme monarch of the Yellow and

7 For the recorded names of some steppe powers in the late third century B.C.E., see Shi ji 110, pp. 2887-2890. 17

Yangtze Rivers regions, the Han emperor in effect co-governed the two regions with peer rulers. The Han court mainly administered the northwest corner of the two regions, and had a large part of the eastern side controlled by the subordinate kings (王) and lords (侯).8 This administrative coalition in the early political structure of the Han state determined that securing the allegiance of subordinate rulers was of great importance for the Han emperor to sustain his status as the highest regional monarch.

Given the aforementioned context, the presence of Xiongnu near the Yellow

River region became a far more complicated issue for the Han court than a simple matter of two regional powers squeezing each other along the southern edge of the steppe. As will be demonstrated in detail below, generations of Han emperors in the early second century B.C.E. constantly competed with generations of Xiongnu chanyu

(i.e. supreme steppe ruler) for the allegiance of lesser rulers, especially when the first

Han emperor used violence and intimidation as the main methods for reorganizing his relationship with the higher governing elites in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

Institutionalized interstate interaction through heqin activities was thus an important first step that established necessary connections for the Han court to negotiate its political status in the political landscape of East Asia vis-à-vis neighboring powers and subordinate Han rulers.

(1) Lateral Distribution of Power in the Top Governing Elite Circle of the Han

The political structure of the Han state in the beginning of the second century

8 See Yen Keng-wang [Yan Gengwang] 嚴耕望, Zhongguo difang xingzheng zhidushi jia bu: Qin Han difang xingzheng zhidu 中國地方行政制度史甲部—秦漢地方行政制度 (Taipei: The Institute of History and Philology, Academia Sinica, 1997), pp. 11-14. 18

B.C.E. was an interesting combination of vertically hierarchized bureaucracy and a horizontally allied coalition. While retaining the ranked Qin bureaucracy, the archetype of the Han governing elite circle was a military coalition in which the leader and followers related to each other not through sharply graded hierarchies of status, but through lateral cooperation.9 This structure of the top governing elite circle had its root in the dynamics of peer rivalries in the political landscape of the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers region after the demise of the Qin and the resurgence of multiple competing forces. The first Han emperor, Liu Bang (d. 165 B.C.E.), managed to re- create a mega-polity in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions through better cementing alliances to nurture his coalition. But this method that led to Liu Bang’s ascendance to the throne also determined that the entire Han governing elite group in the early second century B.C.E. was constantly divided between two conflicting models of power structure—a power-sharing coalition versus centralized power in the hands of emperor.

Unlike the theory of emperorship exemplified by the First Emperor of Qin, Han emperors in the early second century B.C.E. did not enjoy highly centralized power.

Han rulership at the time was best described as the chief representative of a governing

9 Japanese scholars of the mid twentieth century had debated the nature of Liu Bang’s coalition and how this nature shaped the Han Empire. Similar discussion in Chinese scholarship continues into the turn of the century. For some examples of related Japanese research, see Nishijima Sadao 西嶋定生, “Chūgoku kodai teikoku keisei no ichi kōsatsu: Kan no Kōso to sono kōshin 中国古代帝国形成の一考察 ─漢の高祖とその功臣 ,” Rekishigaku kenkyū 141 (1949), pp. 1-15; Moriya Mitsuo 守屋美都雄 , “Kan no Kōso shūdan no seikaku ni tsuite 漢の高祖集団の性格について ,” Rekishigaku kenkyū 158 (1952), pp. 11-21 and 159 (1952), pp. 10-21. For recent studies in Chinese language, see Liu Pak-yuen [Liao Boyuan] 廖伯源, “Shi lun xi Han shiqi liehou yu zhengzhi zhi guanxi 試論西漢時期列侯與政治之關係” and “Shi cong jueyi zhidu lun Chu Han xiangzheng zhi shengfu 試從爵邑制度論楚漢相爭之勝負,” both in Liu Pak-yuen, Lishi yu zhidu: Han dai zhengzhi zhidu shi shi 歷史與制度—漢代政治制度試釋 (Taipei: Taiwan shangwu yinshuguan, 1998), pp. 86-137 and pp. 309-340; Li Kaiyuan 李开元, Han diguo de jianli yu Liu Bang jituan: jungong shouyi jieceng yanjiu 汉帝国的建立与刘邦集团—军功受益阶层研究 (Beijing: Sanlian shudian, 2000). 19 elite circle with a balanced structure of power. Rising to the throne from his position as a minor military leader, the founder of the Han state relied on forging alliances through a combination of kinship, friendship, and clientage to develop his support base, in which personal connections were further secured by the promise of sharing political power and resources.

By the time the Qin rule had collapsed in the late third century B.C.E., the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions had witnessed the resurgence of competing forces that to some degree resembled pre-imperial interstate rivalries. Those capable of mobilizing human and material resources emerged as military leaders, representing pre-imperial states to fight Qin armies. The competition for power among multiple military leaders gradually evolved into rivalries between two major coalitions, one led by Liu Bang 劉

邦, the King of Han, and the other by Xiang Yu 項羽, the Hegemon-King of Western

Chu (d. 202 B.C.E.).

Both Xiang Yu and Liu Bang came from the pre-imperial Chu area. Xiang Yu’s base of support was originally developed from invoking the lingering reputation of the

Chu state, which the Xiang family had served for generations.10 Liu Bang had no such family history with ties to pre-imperial political elites. His initial group of supporters consisted of family (including the natal family of his primary wife Lü Zhi 呂雉), friends, and clients from his home area, most of them low-ranking Qin imperial bureaucrats or commoners.11 While family members, friends, and clients from his home area such as Xiao He or Cao Shen duly campaigned for Liu Bang for the

10 Shi ji 7, p. 295 and p. 298. 11 For some examples, see Shi ji 8, p. 344 and p. 349; 54, p. 2021; 57, p. 2065. 20 prospect of rising to higher power with him,12 Liu Bang’s final ascent to the throne cannot be attributed solely to this core support base. Another crucial factor was the ability of Liu Bang’s camp to win allegiance from more allies beyond his home area, especially those who commanded their own forces, such as Peng Yue 彭越 and Ying

Bu 英布. Liu Bang’s more effective recruitment of allied or client forces was a key in contributing to his survival in the fierce competition for power in the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions, and to his final victory over Xiang Yu at the beginning of the second century B.C.E.

Although Xiang Yu’s and Liu Bang’s coalitions were supposedly the final competitors to become the new governing elite group in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions, enough human and material resources remained in the hands of client forces that their alliance decisions could influence the dynamics of the rivalry between

Xiang Yu and Liu Bang. Moreover, client forces never ceased to form and break alliances throughout the period in which multiple military leaders battled for power after the demise of the Qin. Client forces’ command over resources allowed them to retain a high degree of autonomy while campaigning for the respective coalition they followed. Such autonomy was evident in activities such as withholding of support in a battle or switching over to the battle-winning coalition. Any coalition could win or lose the support of a client force at any point in the competition.13

12 For a discussion about Liu Bang’s followers from his home area, see Mikawa Shūichi 美川修一, “Iwayuru Kan no Kōso no kōshin no dōkō ni tsuite: Ryōkō senken no kiban 所謂漢の高祖の功臣の動向について―呂后専権の基盤,” in Waseda daigaku bungakubu tōyōshi kenkyūshitsu 早稲田大学文学部東洋史研究室 (eds.), Chūgoku zenkindaishi kenkyū 中国前近代史研究 (Tokyo: Yūzankaku Shuppan, 1980), pp. 62-88. 13 Shi ji 8, p. 371; 90, p. 2590; 92, p. 2613; 93, p. 2632. 21

As allegiance from clients outside a core supporter group was contingent on battlefield success, Liu Bang’s camp sought another method to sustain alliances and to attract even more allied and client forces: projecting the image that the distribution of power and resources in the coalition was more equal between Liu Bang and his followers than among his rivals. Ambivalent clients were offered subordinate thrones under the condition that they continued to support Liu Bang’s forces in battles.14

Expressions of willingness to share power with clients who had no bond of kinship or friendship made Liu Bang’s leadership more attractive to followers than that of Xiang

Yu. Such an image of Liu Bang’s egalitarian behavior could have generated hesitation among Xiang Yu’s followers. Shi ji already highlights Liu Bang’s more effective alluring of allies through a relatively horizontal distribution of power and resources in his coalition. One anecdote mentions that in a banquet right after his ascent to the throne, the new emperor Liu Bang and his followers evaluated why he succeeded and

Xiang Yu failed. Two factors were identified. During the campaigns Liu Bang had shared gains with and listened to followers, while Xiang Yu did neither.15

With the promise of sharing political power with his followers, Liu Bang nurtured an inclusive support base, marshalling military leaders of diverse backgrounds, and allowing for flexibility in mobilizing additional resources to fight, even under dire circumstances. If some client forces withheld or withdrew their support or even switched their allegiance to Xiang Yu’s coalition, Liu Bang’s camp had built-in recourse to other allies for rescue. In essence, multiple support options created opportunities for Liu Bang to launch counteroffensives time and again, and eventually

14 Shi ji 7, pp. 331-332; 8, p. 369 and p. 376. 15 Shi ji 8, pp. 380-381. 22 paved the way to eliminating Xiang Yu’s camp from the political landscape of the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

After Liu Bang ascended the throne, the prospect of lateral sharing of power with members in the military coalition was immediately at odds with the centralized imperial hierarchy inherent in the Qin model of emperorship. The Han state structure at the beginning of the second century B.C.E. was not an exact copy of that of the Qin.

Instead of having a unitary bureaucracy serving under the ultimate authority of an emperor, the early Han government was a mixture of bureaucratic and coalition systems.16 In need of reliable administrators to govern the newborn state and secure resources, Liu Bang continued to rely on his campaign allies’ services and rewarded them with subordinate thrones as kings and lords. In a sense, filling subordinate thrones with campaign followers fulfilled the promise of power-sharing. Liu Bang’s military coalition was elevated in its entirety as the new governing elite group in the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, comprising an emperor and multiple subordinate

Han rulers.

While bureaucratic offices and subordinate thrones were clearly ranked, the relationship between a leader and allies in a military coalition could not suddenly be hierarchized. In an anecdote set in the palace, the behavior of the new governing elites demonstrated that their egalitarian relationship endured. Even after Liu Bang ascended to the throne in 202 B.C.E., his campaign followers still acted like companions. In the palace, they “drank alcohol and wrangled over their respective achievements. When

16 For discussions about the dual administrative systems in early Han, see Hsu Fu-kuan [Xu Fuguan] 徐復觀, Zhou Qin Han zhengzhi shehui zhi yanjiu: liang Han sixiangshi Volume 1 周秦漢政治社會之研究—兩漢思想史卷一 (Taipei: Xuesheng shuju, 1993), pp. 164-174; Yen Keng-wang (1997), pp. 14-30. 23 drunk they shouted wildly, drawing their swords to hack the pillars [of the palace]. 飲

酒爭功，醉或妄呼，拔劍擊柱.”17 Entrusted by the discontented emperor with the task of imposing order, a scholar who was erudite in Qin imperial rituals spent about two years to train these new governing elites in the “proper” conduct toward an emperor. This was one of Liu Bang’s earliest attempts to differentiate his status from other political elites and assert imperial authority.18

But the early transition in the distribution of power between Liu Bang and his campaign followers was not merely a ritualistic transformation of conduct within the palace. From the very beginning of negotiating status and power with his support base, the new emperor reversed his inclusive approach to an exclusive one, using violence and intimidation to reorganize his power-sharing circle. Former allies were the first to be cut off, ultimately making rooms for Liu Bang’s family and friends to take over subordinate states. From 202 B.C.E. onwards, those subordinate Han rulers who were related to the emperor only through clientage were persecuted one after another.19 One famous example was a highly meritorious client, Han Xin 韓信, the King of Chu (d.

196 B.C.E.). Regardless of his many contributions to Liu Bang’s coalition, Han Xin was quickly stripped of power after Liu Bang took the imperial throne. Han Xin’s throne was then transferred to Liu Bang’s younger brother.20 The cruelty involved in

17 Shi ji 99, p. 2722. 18 Another attempt to differentiate emperor’s authority from others was through building a magnificent imperial palace. See Shi ji 8, pp. 385-386. For a discussion about the correlation between imperial authority and the construction of the palace, see Mark Edward Lewis, The Construction of Space in Early China (Albany: SUNY Press, 2006), pp. 176-177. 19 Shi ji 8, pp. 381-389. 20 Han Xin (the King of Chu) was first demoted to be the Lord of Huaiyin, and was then murdered by Empress Lü, the primary wife of the Han founder Liu Bang. Han Xin’s family was also exterminated. See Shi ji 8, p. 384; 91, p. 2603; 92, pp. 2627-2629. 24 this process was surprising. For instance, after Peng Yue, the King of Liang (d. 196

B.C.E.), was killed, his body was minced. The minced meat was then “granted 賜” to all subordinate rulers as a warning.21 Constant persecution must have intimidated Liu

Bang’s campaign followers into adopting imperial behavioral rituals and obeying imperial orders. But the Han authority’s aggressive redistribution of power must have also inflamed anger and distrust among the subordinate rulers. The political consequences of these emotions were reinforced by the presence of Xiongnu leadership near the Yellow River region. It is to Xiongnu influences on the dynamics of the restructuring of the Han governing elite group that we now turn.

(2) Competition between the Han Emperor and the Xiongnu Chanyu for

Allegiance

The anxiety of the Han court towards the Xiongnu could be considered one symptom of a larger problem—the troublesome consequences of the Han founder’s violent approach to reorganizing his power-sharing circle after the elimination of all rival coalitions in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions such as Xiang Yu’s. Although occasional conflicts with Xiongnu forces along the southern edge of the steppe were disturbing, more problematic for the imperial court was previously alienated subordinate Han rulers’ renouncing of allegiance and switching to the Xiongnu side.

Witnessing ongoing persecution within the new governing elite circle, subordinate

Han rulers who no longer felt safe under the emperor had to look for alternative options. The presence of Xiongnu forces near the Yellow River region offered the

21 Shi ji 91, p. 2603. 25 possibility of a new peer coalition that acted as a magnet, encouraging threatened Han governing elites to escape the emperor’s attempt to concentrate power in the imperial court.

The Yellow River region near the southern edge of the steppe was one of the best sites for illustrating the violence involved in the new emperor’s restructuring of the governing elite circle and for analyzing the resulting problems. During the period from

Liu Bang’s ascent to the throne in 202 B.C.E. to his death in 195 B.C.E., within only seven years the thrones in the Yan and Dai areas (subordinate states intruding into the southern edge of the steppe) were rapidly transferred from one hand to another.

Almost all subordinate rulers originally enfeoffed in these areas “rebelled”— three kings and one lord were accused by the Han court of defection. Except for the first case, they all sought alliances and protection from the Xiongnu. The emptied thrones eventually ended in the hands of Liu Bang’s direct family members.

The transfer of subordinate states near the southern edge of the steppe demonstrated how Liu Bang’s power-sharing circle contracted from a military coalition bonded together through kinship, friendship, and clientage to a kin-based unit.

The exclusion began with neutral forces, and was then extended to meritorious clients and eventually Liu Bang’s friends. The first eliminated ruler in the area was Zang Tu

臧荼, the King of Yan (d. 202 B.C.E.). Zang Tu campaigned for Xiang Yu’s coalition for some years but seemed to withhold his support and remained neutral in the final battles between Liu Bang’s and Xiang Yu’s coalitions. Zang Tu’s status as the King of

Yan was recognized by the Han coalition while Liu Bang eliminated Xiang Yu’s forces,

26 probably for the purpose of preventing Zang Tu from assisting Xiang Yu.22 But shortly after Liu Bang took the imperial throne in 202 B.C.E., Zang Tu was accused of rebelling against Han authority and persecuted. His kingship was then given to Liu

Bang’s close friend Lu Wan 盧綰 (d. after 195 B.C.E.).23 Zang Tu’s son escaped and sought asylum with the Xiongnu ruler.24 The action of Zang Tu’s son was an indication that steppe powers were already considered a political refuge that the newborn Han state was unable to reach or influence. But it was the second “rebel” in this area in 200

B.C.E. that confirmed to the Han court the status of the Xiongnu as a rival coalition, generating a new round of competition for allegiance in the Yellow River region.

The first military confrontation between the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu in 200 B.C.E. was triggered by Liu Bang’s persecution of a ruler who had no bond of kinship or friendship with the new emperor. The subordinate Han kings in the north had fought with Xiongnu forces for some time, but the new emperor seemed to have little interest in directly interacting with the chanyu until a client ruler openly switched sides to support the Xiongnu. Shiji makes it clear that the reason for Liu

Bang to lead his first (and last) military expedition against Xiongnu forces was not

Xiongnu “attacks” per se, but because Han Xin 韓(王)信, the King of Han (d. 196

B.C.E.), whose state was in the Dai area, renounced his allegiance to Han authority and allied with Xiongnu power.25

The King of Han had been vying with Xiongnu forces along the southern edge of the steppe in the Dai area. Troubled by one large-scale siege, the King of Han sent

22 Shi ji 8, p. 380. 23 Shi ji 8, p. 381; 93, p. 2637. 24 Shi ji 93, p. 2638. 25 Shi ji 99, p. 2718. 27 emissaries to the Xiongnu chanyu, Modu 冒頓 (d. 174 B.C.E.), to propose peace negotiations. The emperor was irate at the communications between the King of Han and Modu Chanyu. While sending troops northward for “rescue,” Liu Bang accused the King of Han of defection. Threatened by this imperial accusation, the King of Han chose to seek protection from the supreme Xiongnu ruler. The emperor led a large- scale expedition to “punish” the joint forces of the King of Han and his new patron,

Modu Chanyu. This was the renowned military confrontation between Han and

Xiongnu forces in 200 B.C.E., where the Han suffered a disastrous defeat. The Han emperor Liu Bang barely escaped from being captured.26 This defeat initiated Han heqin activities with the Xiongnu chanyu that will be discussed in the next section.

Meanwhile, Liu Bang enfeoffed his elder brother in the Dai area as a substitute for the

King of Han.27 This subordinate state was then transferred to Liu Bang’s son Liu Heng, who was later enthroned as Emperor Wen of Han (r. 180 B.C.E.-157 B.C.E.).28

Besides the defeat of Han forces, three points are worth noting in this incident in

200 B.C.E.: a subordinate king’s communication with the supreme Xiongnu ruler, the decision to switch allegiance from the Han to the Xiongnu, and the transfer of a subordinate state. We shall begin with the last point. Viewing together the two cases of

Zang Tu (the King of Yan) and Han Xin (the King of Han), neither was bound to the

Han emperor through kinship or friendship. They were successively accused of treason, and their thrones reassigned to the emperor’s family and friends. The decision to replace them represented the early stage of a larger process that proceeded in almost

26 Shi ji 93, pp. 2633-2634. 27 Shi ji 8, p. 385. 28 Shi ji 8, p. 389. 28 all subordinate states in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions—removing neutral forces and meritorious clients from the Han governing elite circle and transferring power to the emperor’s kin. The Han court used accusations of treason as a major means to empty subordinate thrones, and then refilled them with Liu Bang’s family and friends. Having observed this process since 202 B.C.E., clients who had no bond of kinship or friendship with the emperor feared that they would be the next to be eliminated.

While distrust dissolved the earlier bond of clientage with Han emperor, the presence of Xiongnu forces near the Yellow River region challenged the effectiveness of the violence and intimidation that Liu Bang applied to eliminate his former allies and assert imperial authority. Instead of waiting to be persecuted like Zang Tu (the

King of Yan), the King of Han took a different action when accused of treason—he turned to support Xiongnu power. This action was reminiscent of the side-switching activities that were common among military leaders during the war between Xiang

Yu’s and Liu Bang’s coalitions. The King of Han’s change of allegiance suggested that the Xiongnu coalition had replaced Xiang Yu’s camp as the new alternative for alliances in the political landscape of the Yellow River region. With the existence of a peer coalition nearby, threatened Han governing elites in the Yellow River region did not have to submit to persecution without resistance. They had another choice. The political message in the King of Han’s switch of affiliation and the Xiongnu’s military triumph in 200 B.C.E. was that rival alternatives to the Han coalition had not disappeared after the elimination of Xiang Yu’s forces. With Liu Bang’s embarrassing military failure, the supreme Xiongnu ruler proved strong enough to be an alternative

29 option for political protection or military alliances. This political message was apparently well-received. In 196 B.C.E., a discontented client-lord Chen Xi 陳豨 (d.

195 B.C.E.) “revolted” in the Dai area. One action he took was to seek military assistance from the Xiongnu to complement his own resources.29 After the elimination of Xiang Yu, the competition between peer coalitions for allegiance was now moved northward to the southern edge of the steppe in the Yellow River region.

The King of Han’s “discovery” of an alternative coalition was in a sense made possible by the Han emperor himself—imperial accusation of defection based on the king’s communication with a foreign ruler. Liu Bang’s accusation reflected both the severed bond of clientage and his concern about subordinate rulers’ acquiring of the capacity to escape from the emperor’s disciplinary control. The defeat of Liu Bang’s forces in 200 B.C.E. was the emperor’s nightmare come true. He was unable to

“punish” the joint forces of the Xiongnu chanyu and the King of Han, and imperial authority was crippled. We have no way to know whether the King of Han was considering joining the Xiongnu forces when he conducted peace negotiations with

Modu Chanyu while waiting for Han “rescue.” But imperial accusation coupled with lessons from eliminated client rulers must have reminded the King of Han to evaluate the possibility of switching allegiance in order to avoid potential persecution. Chen

Xi’s “revolt” in 196 B.C.E. further affirmed that the presence of Xiongnu power allowed threatened client rulers to resist the emperor’s violent reconfiguration of the governing elite circle into a kin-based unit. Incapable of coercing Xiongnu forces into

29 According to imperial accusation, Chen Xi was convicted of treason due to the huge amount of human and material resources in his hands. If this accusation reflected some level of reality, Chen Xi could be an example to show the financial capacity of subordinate rulers at the time to maintain thousands of followers. See Shi ji 93, p. 2638 and p. 2640. 30 refusing alliances with subordinate Han rulers, Liu Bang could only heighten alarm over subordinate rulers’ communication with the Xiongnu chanyu unauthorized by the emperor.

The Han court’s fears accelerated the loosening of bonds between the emperor and the remaining non-kin clients in the top governing elite circle. Even friendship could no longer stop the rising tide of distrust. Heightened imperial suspicion of subordinate rulers’ interaction with the Xiongnu drove one of Liu Bang’s closest friends since childhood, Lu Wan, the succeeding King of Yan, to renounce allegiance to the Han emperor and join Xiongnu forces. When both the emperor and Lu Wan, the

King of Yan, led expeditions to suppress Chen Xi’s forces in 196 B.C.E., the king sent his own emissary for a negotiation to stop Xiongnu forces from assisting Chen Xi. The emperor quickly learned about the King of Yan’s communication activities with

Xiongnu forces and his “treacherous conspiracies.” Ignoring their life-long friendship, the emperor accused the king of defection. It is difficult to tell how real the

“treacherous” conversations recorded in Shiji actually were. However, the King of

Yan’s “conspiracies” doubtless became the standard interpretation in Han elite discourses, as anecdotes about such a scheme made their way into Sima Qian’s Shiji.

When the King of Yan felt in political danger, his decision was, once again, to take his entire family and thousands of followers to support and be protected by Xiongnu forces.30

Here is an analytical summary of the aforementioned cases regarding the four

“rebel” subordinate rulers in the Yan and Dai areas between 202 B.C.E. and 195 B.C.E.

30 Shi ji 93, pp. 2638-2639; 110, p. 2895. 31

If we look at the correlation between the sequence of their expulsion from the Han state’s top governing elite circle and the types of their bonds with the emperor, the first case (Zang Tu, the King of Yan) was a neutral force. The second and third cases were meritorious clients (Han Xin, the King of Han, and Chen Xi, the Lord of Yangxia).

The fourth case was Liu Bang’s close friend (Lu Wan, the King of Yan). If we observe the transmission of subordinate states, the throne of the King of Yan was taken away from a disaffiliated military leader (Zang Tu), given first to Liu Bang’s close friend

(Lu Wan), and finally to Liu Bang’s son (Liu Jian). The Dai area originally in the King of Han’s charge was enfeoffed first to Liu Bang’s elder brother (Liu Zhong) and then ultimately transferred to Liu Bang’s son (Liu Heng). Both subordinate thrones were eventually held by Liu Bang’s direct family members. These changes in throne-holders in the Yan and Dai areas reflected the processes through which the Han court reorganized a military coalition comprising family, friends, and clients into a top governing elite circle centered on the emperor’s direct family members.

Since steppe powers became influential players in the political landscape of the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the aforementioned cases of “rebel” subordinate rulers show that ethnic and cultural differences were not an obstacle for alliance decisions. Once the Han emperor ceased to be a plausible ally, subordinate rulers simply repeated the behavior of switching sides that was commonly practiced among military leaders during the rivalry of Xiang Yu’s and Liu Bang’s coalitions not long ago. Liu Bang’s military disaster against Xiongnu forces in 200 B.C.E. presented the

Han court with a dilemma in using violence to restructure the top governing elite circle. As Han forces proved incapable of “punishing” the combined forces of the

Xiongnu chanyu and the King of Han, endangered subordinate rulers found the possibility of a new coalition to resist Han persecution. This undermined imperial authority. As long as subordinate rulers had options that allowed them to renounce allegiance to the Han emperor, Liu Bang’s attempts to discipline his followers were subverted.

More importantly, those “rebel” subordinate rulers did not break off from the Han coalition only as single individuals, but took their followers along to join the Xiongnu forces. For example, in the case of Lu Wan, the King of Yan, thousands of followers went to join the steppe power with him, and most of them probably never switched back.31 Any change of allegiance to the Xiongnu ruler also meant a loss of human resources from the Han side. Viewed from this perspective, the Han emperor’s violent method to reassign subordinate thrones also disturbed the solidarity of top Han governing elites. It further introduced Xiongnu influences into the dynamics of the redistribution of power in the Han governing elite group, initiating the competition between the Xiongnu and Han rulers for allegiance and control along the southern edge of the steppe.

While the process of narrowing down the top governing elite circle to a kin-based unit continued, the efficacy of violence and intimidation came into doubt, as these aggressive approaches backfired. The Han court needed to reconsider the emperor’s relationship with his remaining clients and friends vis-à-vis the new peer competitor on the steppe. Given Liu Bang’s inability to eliminate or subdue this rival, how could the Han emperor assert exclusive authority over non-kin subordinate rulers and at the

31 Shi ji 110, p. 2895. 33 same time prevent them from seeking alliance with another power? This question leads us to the “peace-and-kinship” policy, a mechanism that initiated communication and exchange exclusively between the two top rulers in the Yellow River region.

Re-evaluating the Significance of Heqin (Peace and Kinship)

After the failed Han expedition against the combined forces of the Xiongnu chanyu and the King of Han in 200 B.C.E., heqin was devised to conduct institutionalized interstate interaction between the two polities—the Han in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers region and the Xiongnu on the steppe. For about six decades, the

Han court maintained formal and regular interactions with the Xiongnu chanyu through heqin activities. Scholars have generally understood heqin as a Han response to stop Xiongnu “attacks.” This line of thought argues that the first Han emperor’s military failure impelled the Han court to pursue a method that could reduce the chance of another large-scale confrontation with the steppe power. It further summarizes that the heqin package included three basic elements: (1) frontier trade; (2) sending a Han princess to the Xiongnu chanyu; and (3) periodic delivery of gifts.32

While no one denies the historical significance of heqin, this practice is discussed mainly in the context of military confrontation between the Han and the Xiongnu.

Both contemporary Han elites and modern scholars identify heqin as a form of Han tribute to the Xiongnu chanyu in exchange for peace. As conflicts at the southern edge of the steppe never entirely ceased in the first six decades after heqin was enacted,

32 For a summary of the basic elements in the heqin package, see Yü Ying-shih, Trade and Expansion in Han China: A Study in the Structure of Sino-Barbarian Economic Relations (Berkeley and L.A.: University of California Press, 1967), pp. 41-42. 34

Han elites posed a question that even scholars today are still trying to answer: “why did heqin fail to stop Xiongnu attacks?” This question leads to various explanations for the futility of heqin in serving its purported goal. The proposed answers range from the greedy nature of “barbarians” in contemporary Han discourses to political, military and economic structures of steppe communities in modern scholarly interpretations.33

It is no doubt important to explore the (in-)effectiveness of heqin in the context of

Han-Xiongnu conflicts. But we should also be aware of inherent limits in this line of thought. One such limit is that, by viewing heqin as a mere byproduct of military confrontation between the Han and the Xiongnu, we risk misrepresenting the two powers as well-consolidated, homogeneous entities when both had just begun to establish themselves. As already demonstrated above, the Han state in the early second century B.C.E. was by no means a coherent political unit. The negotiation processes for the redistribution of power between the Han emperor and subordinate rulers generated much ambivalence and contingency in the political landscape of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. By ignoring this factor, we may miss a great opportunity to explore other implications of heqin activities in the political landscape of East Asia that contemporary Han elites were reluctant to admit or unable to observe from their

33 Contemporary Han elites’ discussion of heqin activities was best exemplified in debates in Emperor Wu’s court over whether the Han should discontinue heqin and revert to war against the Xiongnu. For an analysis of the debates, see Di Cosmo (2002), pp. 210-215. Modern scholarship examines the Han- Xiongnu relationship from multiple angles and uses diverse types of primary sources. But the focus is on explaining why and how the Han and the Xiongnu confronted each other, and the subsequent historical developments. For a study that uses both historical and archaeological evidence to explain the political and military structures of the Xiongnu, see Di Cosmo (2002). Thomas Barfield takes an anthropological perspective to analyze the economic structure of steppe empires and its correlation with sedentary ones. See Barfield, The Perilous Frontier: Nomadic Empires and China, 221 B.C. to A.D. 1757 (Cambridge M.A. and Oxford U.K.: Blackwell, 1989), pp. 1-84. Also, see Thomas Barfield, “The Shadow Empires: Imperial State Formation along the Normad-Chinese Frontier,” in Susan Alcock et al. (eds.), Empires: Perspectives from Archaeology and History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), pp. 10-41. 35

Han-centric stance.

From the time Han governing elites introduced the Han-Xiongnu dichotomy to their inquiries into heqin issues, generations of researchers have reiterated this dichotomy one way or another to study the “why heqin failed” question. The over- emphasis on confrontation and dichotomy makes us neglect that at the beginning of the second century B.C.E., the nascent Han and the Xiongnu polities were both undergoing complex processes to gradually transform into hegemonic powers in their respective regions. While scholarship acknowledges how heqin could have affected the dynamics of power structure on the steppe, the Han side is strangely treated as a static, homogeneous entity, as if its organization of political power were entirely exempted from the influence of interaction with the Xiongnu through heqin.

We have established that since the first Han emperor Liu Bang took the throne in

202 B.C.E., the new governing elite group in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions was still undergoing drastic changes in negotiating political power. By expanding our scope beyond the Han-Xiongnu dichotomy, the following section will demonstrate that, as the use of violence and intimidation to restructure its top governing elite circle backfired, the Han court started to experiment with a new approach—marriage alliances—to minimize the chance of multiplying troubles while solidifying its place as the supreme political representative of all forces in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. Heqin activities with the Xiongnu chanyu, in which marriage alliances were part of the package, helped to re-shape the dynamics between subordinate Han rulers vis-a-vis the supreme Han and Xiongnu rulers. From the reign of Empress Lü (r. 195

B.C.E.-180 B.C.E.), the first Han emperor’s primary wife and the real decision maker

36 as Empress Dowager in the imperial court during the reign of their son Emperor Hui, to the early reign of Emperor Wu, heqin activities evolved into a mechanism for the

Han emperor to negotiate status hierarchy and his sphere of influence, gradually consolidating the Han state as a regional power in the political landscape of East Asia.

(1) Marriage Alliances with the Xiongnu Chanyu

As illustrated above, with the presence of the Xiongnu coalition near the Yellow

River region, subordinate Han rulers were not lacking alternative options for alliances when facing the Han court’s use of violence to assert imperial authority and to transfer power and resources to emperor’s kin. Instead of helplessly waiting to be persecuted, threatened client rulers resisted and challenged Han authority by switching allegiance to or seeking military assistance from the Xiongnu, an entirely unaffiliated power that the first Han emperor had no channel to influence. The Han court thus needed another method that created less trouble in the processes of securing its power, and at the same time keeping the Xiongnu chanyu from undermining the emperor’s attempts to discipline subordinate rulers in the Yellow River region.

This new method was marriage alliances. Without changing the goal of reconfiguring its power-sharing circle into a kin-based unit, the Han court married royal children to those of subordinate rulers, adding kin ties to those of clientage and friendship in the top governing elite circle. As will be detailed in the next section, this approach was originally advanced by Empress Lü for the purpose of fully integrating her natal family into the royal lineage, but was also used to secure the allegiance of subordinate rulers. On the other hand, the sending of a Han princess to the Xiongnu

37 chanyu in the heqin package allowed the Han emperor to be directly connected to a peer ruler on the steppe and to sway this peer’s political decisions through regular interaction between two “kin.” To complement the use of violence, forging marriage alliances with both the Xiongnu chanyu and subordinate Han rulers served to reduce disorder in the processes during which the Han emperor secured his status as the supreme leader in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

How, then, was the hierarchy of power negotiated through marriage alliances in the political landscape of East Asia? Let us start with heqin activities. The purpose of heqin, as claimed by contemporary Han elites, was to stop Xiongnu “attacks” after the defeat of the first Han emperor’s forces in 200 B.C.E. But the practices of heqin also had unstated implications.

First of all, subordinate Han rulers were excluded from conducting state-level interactions with the Xiongnu chanyu. The Han emperor elevated his status higher than subordinate rulers in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions by monopolizing interstate communication. In heqin activities, the sending of a princess and gifts was not mediated by any subordinate Han rulers near the southern edge of the steppe, but came directly from the imperial court. Giving the Xiongnu chanyu a princess as wife allowed the Han emperor to acquire a useful political ally. This action also forged an intimate relationship between the two top leaders, potentially discouraging subordinate

Han rulers from considering the steppe power as a reliable ally. Combined with this exclusive interaction between the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu after 200

B.C.E. was the delegitimation of subordinate Han rulers’ independent communication with the Xiongnu chanyu and other state rulers in neighboring regions. While

38 subordinate rulers were expected to fight for the Han court in warfare against other powers, non-military interaction with other state leaders was no longer left open to them. Since the case of Han Xin, the King of Han, in 200 B.C.E., the imperial court perceived subordinate rulers’ communication unauthorized by the emperor with

Xiongnu forces as one of the standard indications of treason and usurpation.

The Han court’s efforts to differentiate its status from that of the subordinate rulers in interstate interaction already figured in the imperial accusation of defection in the aforementioned case of Lu Wan, the King of Yan. In the reign of Emepror Wen

(formerly the King of Dai), when Liu Chang, the King of Huainan (one of Liu Bang’s sons), was convicted of treachery in 174 B.C.E., one piece of evidence cited was

“sending emissaries to the Minyue (Min Viet) and the Xiongnu 遣人使閩越及匈奴,” which was interpreted by the imperial court as an attempt to seek military assistance from these state leaders.34 Furthermore, in correspondence between the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu, the recurrent phrase “two masters 兩主” recognized and reinforced each other’s status as supreme ruler in their respective regions,35 declaring all other leaders both on the steppe and in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions as lesser powers unqualified to conduct interstate interaction. These imperial actions indicate the aim of the Han court to assert that the emperor was the only legitimate representative for interaction with state leaders outside the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

Secondly, heqin activites not only excluded subordinate Han rulers from

34 Shi ji 10, p. 426. 35 Shi ji 110, pp. 2896-2897 and p. 2902. 39 interstate interaction with the Xiongnu power, but also established an institutionalized communication channel for the Han and Xiongnu rulers to negotiate through marriage alliances their status in the Yellow River region in relation to each other. The giving of a Han princess as the Xiongnu chanyu’s wife turned the two royal lineages into kin.

From the early to mid second century B.C.E., all four emperors had one recorded delivery of a princess to the chanyu, demonstrating continuous renewals of kin ties between the two ruling houses.36 It is also worth noting that the two parties involved in marriage alliances were not necessarily of equal status. As will be demonstrated below, the direction of taking and giving a wife usually implied a negotiation of status hierarchy between allies. Mutual exchanges tended to indicate smaller difference in political status, while unidirectional wife-giving often suggested that the taker was superior to the giver. Such political implications of status hierarchy in marriage alliances seemed already established in the political landscape of East Asia in pre- imperial times.

Wife-giving was not a brand new idea in the political landscape of either the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions or the steppe at the beginning of the imperial era.

Marriage alliances were a common practice among pre-imperial aristocracies in their respective regions. Moreover, the directions of taking and giving a wife connoted different types of status hierarchy between allied states. In the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers region, pre-imperial polities were woven into a regional interstate network through constantly marrying female royalties out to political allies. Exchange of royalties through marriage established channels to sway allied states’ political

36 Shi ji 99, p. 2719; 110, p. 2895 and 2898; Han shu 2, p. 89; 5, p. 144. 40 decisions or behaviors for multiple purposes, ranging from avoiding attacks or gaining access to resources to deceiving ostensible “allies.” Allied state of relatively equal status usually conducted mutual exchanges of princess-wives. A typical case was marriage alliances between the Qin and Jin aristocracies. The rulers of the two states took princess-wives from each other’s royal households for multiple generations.37

When the giving and taking of princess-wives were unidirectional, the direction tended to infer that the giver’s status was inferior to that of the taker.38

In terms of pre-imperial steppe powers, we are left with little evidence about their political activities. But an anecdote in the life story of Modu Chanyu, the Xiongnu leader who established the first steppe superpower, suggests that wife-giving could have also been a means to negotiate asymmetrical status positions among powers on the steppe. When Modu had just assumed rulership of the Xiongnu, the king of the

Donghu requested from the new Xiongnu leader first a rare horse, and second one of

Modu’s consorts. Modu’s compliance furthered the Donghu ruler’s arrogance. This arrogance led to the Donghu intrusion into the Xiongnu sphere of influence. It was only when the king made the request of land that Modu took military actions against

37 For marriage alliances between the Qin and the Jin royal households, see Shi ji 5, pp. 189-190 and p. 192; 39, pp. 1654-1655 and p. 1660. 38 For status hierarchy and marriage alliances among pre-imperial polities in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers region, see Chen Chao-jung [Chen Zhaorong] 陳昭容, “Cong qingtongqi mingwen kan liang Zhou Han Huai diqu zhuguo hunyin guanxi 從青銅器銘文看兩周漢淮地區諸國婚姻關係,” in Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo jikan 中央研究院歷史語言研究所集刊 75:4 (2004): pp. 635-697. For an analysis based on received texts concerning political marriages in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers region roughly from the eighth century B.C.E. to the fourth century B.C.E., see Melvin Thatcher, “Marriages of the Ruling Elite in the Spring an Autumn Period,” in Rubie Watson and Patricia Ebrey (eds.), Marriage and Inequality in Chinese Society (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), pp. 38-46. Also see Robin Yates, “Making War and Making Peace in Early China” in Kurt Raaflaub (ed.), War and Peace in Ancient World (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), pp. x 41 the Donghu.39 The Donghu reaction to Modu’s earlier compliance suggested that among pre-imperial steppe powers wife- and gift-giving signified the inferior status of the wife- and gift-giver. The last move of Modu also suggested that the giving and taking of gifts and wives were a means to negotiate hierarchy of power among peer leaders without engaging in warfare.

Applying the same principle to the case of the heqin package, marriage alliances between the Han and the Xiongnu rulers were also unidirectional, as the Han was always the wife-giver, but the Xiongnu did not give a princess-wife in exchange.

Based on pre-imperial understandings both in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions and on the steppe, such directionality indicated the inferior status of the Han with respect to that of the Xiongnu. This interpretation of wife-giving served well the

Xiongnu chanyu of the early second century B.C.E. The wife-giving in the heqin package of the Han allowed the Xiongnu chanyu to proclaim to other steppe powers that even a polity in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions was under the Xiongnu sphere of influence.

But the Han court assigned a different, self-serving definition for negotiating its asymmetrical power relationship with the Xiongnu ruler through heqin activities, with the wife-giver in the superior position. The Han interpretation of status hierarchy in wife-giving contradicted the aforementioned understanding among pre-imperial polities in their respective regions, in which unidirectional wife-giving indicated inferior status on the part of the giver. Nevertheless, what pre-imperial powers perceived was of little concern to the Han authority of the early second century B.C.E.

39 Shi ji 110, p. 2889. 42

During this period the Han remained outside the interstate network on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin in which the Xiongnu influence kept growing. The Han court could redefine the meaning of a political action within the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions without considering its relevance to powers in other regions. In other words, there was no necessity for the Han and the Xiongnu rulers to come to an agreement as to the political implications of unidirectional wife-giving in heqin activities.

Although the first Han emperor failed to subjugate Xiongnu forces through military means in 200 B.C.E., marriage alliances were used to subtly assert Han superiority over the Xiongnu ruler. The key was the insistence on giving to the chanyu a female of the younger generation of Han royalty, regardless of her biological tie with the emperor. The initial heqin design was proposed by the first Han emperor’s advisor

Liu Jing 劉敬. While using heqin activities to replace military action, he argued that marrying a daughter of the emperor to the chanyu turned the steppe ruler into the emperor’s son-in-law. Liu Jing’s original suggestion emphasized the importance of biological ties. He believed that sending a biological daughter of the Han emperor and empress was the only way to ensure her political influence in the Xiongnu elite circle.

But the first Han emperor opted not to send his biological daughter due to the strong opposition from Empress Lü.40

Neither the Han nor the Xiongnu ruler seemed to care whether this princess-wife was really the emperor’s biological daughter. In Han history, no emperor sent his own daughter. The princess-wives sent to steppe powers were mainly daughters of subordinate rulers or the emperor’s secondary consorts. Rulers of steppe powers were

40 See Shi ji 99, p. 2719. 43 very likely aware of this, but still accepted the “princess” offered by the Han court.41

To steppe leaders, the more essential issue was to ensure that this female was properly titled to represent the Han ruling house. She was the token for steppe powers to claim their marriage alliances with the Han.

The Han court’s top concern was status hierarchy negotiated through unidirectional wife-giving. The female given to the Xiongnu chanyu must have been of inferior status with respect to the emperor in the political structure of the royal lineage. She was not the emperor’s own daughter, but was of a younger generation than that of the emperor. Her inferior status in the kinship hierarchy of the Han royal lineage was then transferred through marriage to her husband, the Xiongnu ruler. From the Han point of view, this inherent kinship asymmetry in marriage alliances served as a means for the Han to situate the Xiongnu chanyu in inferior status in interstate interaction. The interpretation of wife-giving activities among steppe powers did not seem to affect the Han understanding of this practice. No Han emperor openly regarded unidirectional wife-giving as derogatory. Even Emperor Wu, who refused to send any princesses to the Xiongnu chanyu, did not stop the practice of wife-giving.42

When the Han state of the late second century B.C.E. began to expand its influence in

East Eurasia and seek allies on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, wife-giving remained an active option for forming alliances.

41 In the cases of the first four emperors, the “Han princesses” delivered in heqin activities were vaguely described using the terms 家人子, 宗室女, or simply 公主. See Shi ji 99, p. 2719; 110, p. 2898; Han shu 2, p. 89; 5, p. 144. Records of later cases contain more details. For example, Emperor Wu delivered a daughter of the King of Jiangdu to be the wife of the King of Wusun. Emperor Yuan (r. 49 B.C.E.-33 B.C.E.) sent a consort in the imperial harem, Wang Qiang (i.e. Wang Zhaojun) to Huhanye Chanyu. See Han shu 9, P. 297; 94b, p. 3803 and p. 3806; 96b, p. 3903. 42 Emperor Wu complained about giving Han princesses to the Xiongnu not because this practice was humiliating, but because, in his rhetoric, this practice was ineffective in stopping Xiongnu attacks. See Han shu 6, p. 162; 52, p. 2398. 44

It is worth noting that little evidence suggests that after heqin activities began in the reign of the first emperor after 200 B.C.E., the imperial court expected to continue this format of interstate interaction for decades until the reign of Emperor Wu. It was

Modu Chanyu who succeeded in transforming the one-time wife-giving into a repeated activity unaffected by the transmission of rulership positions. While Emperor

Hui (r. 195 B.C.E.-188 B.C.E.) did renew marriage alliances by delivering a princess to Modu Chanyu in the third year of his reign (192 B.C.E.),43 this action was carried out after huge debates in the imperial court. Court officials of the early second century argued over highly limited options—waging war again or continuing heqin activites.

Empress Dowager Lü was inclined to opt for war but was deterred by court officials.44

That such debates occurred suggested that the Han governing elites did not assume the heqin practice would continue. Furthermore, a change in rulership created the possibility for the new ruler to end established practices with adjacent powers and renegotiate their respective political status. But the Han state of the early second century B.C.E. did not have the capability to take advantage of this.

The Xiongnu chanyu apparently had an interest in revalidating the established power hierarchy through unidirectional wife-giving, which affirmed Xiongnu influence over the Han state among steppe leaders. The debates between Empress

Dowager Lü and court officials were provoked by Modu Chanyu’s request for another marriage between the two royal lineages. After the death of the first Han emperor in

195 B.C.E., Modu Chanyu sent a letter to Empress Dowager Lü, suggesting a

43 Han shu 2, p. 89. 44 Han shu 94a, p. 3755. 45 marriage between the Xiongnu chanyu and the widowed Han empress.45 Crucial in this incident was the connection between the change of Han rulership and the Xiongnu pressure for renewing the connection between two ruling houses through another marriage. Modu Chanyu seemed to be aware that the death of a ruler brought about uncertainties in the established equilibrium of status hierarchy between adjacent powers. The new ruler had the option to either continue or refuse to observe former agreements and exchanges with allied powers.

Reconfirming the format of interstate interaction was especially important in the case of Modu Chanyu, as heqin activities between the Han and Xiongnu rulers were recent and had not become a fully institutionalized, long-term mechanism. Modu’s letter to Empress Dowager Lü was initially a renewal request for the agreement between the Han and Xiongnu ruling houses. Incapable of reacting to this “insult” through military expeditions, the Han court reassured its willingness to continue observing the established format of interstate interaction with the Xiongnu chanyu by sending a properly-titled Han princess in 192 B.C.E. Modu Chanyu’s acceptance of this princess suggested that his intent was not really to marry the widowed Han empress, but to exert enough pressure for the new Han ruler to feel the urgency for the reiteration of former agreements. This incident between Modu Chanyu and Empress

Dowager Lü seemed also to serve as a reminder to subsequent Han emperors of the need to renew arrangements upon the change of rulership. When Emperor Wen ascended the throne, one of the earliest political activities his court undertook was to

45 Shi ji 110, p. 2895; Han shu 94a, p. 3754-3755. 46 reconfirm with the Xiongnu his intent to abide by former agreements.46 After Modu

Chanyu died, Emperor Wen quickly sent a princess to marry the new chanyu.47

(2) Marriage Alliances with Subordinate Han Rulers

It is mistaken to assume that the method of marriage alliances was applied only to interstate interaction with the Xiongnu. Giving princess-wives to subordinate Han rulers could also re-secure Han emperor’s bonds with a few clients and friends, preventing their renouncing of allegiance by integrating them into the royal lineage.

Although in the reigns of the first two Han emperors, only the marriage of Princess

Luyan was recorded,48 the case of her husband Zhang Ao 張敖, the King of Zhao, demonstrated how marriage shaped the asymmetrical relationship between the emperor and a peer ruler. Princess Luyan was the daughter that the first emperor intended to deliver to Modu Chanyu as wife, but this marriage plan was terminated by her mother Empress Lü.49 Her husband Zhang Ao was born from a military leader who was enfeoffed by Xiang Yu, but eventually switched to Liu Bang’s coalition.50

Inheriting his father’s state, which was south of the Yan and Dai area, Zhang Ao might have been the only client-ruler in the Yellow River region who was accused of treason but did not opt for withholding or withdrawing his allegiance to the Han authority due to his membership in the royal lineage.

46 Shi ji 110, p. 2895. 47 Shi ji 110, p. 2898. 48 The excavated early Han legal documents suggest that the Han founder had four other princesses, probably not from his primary wife Empress Lü. But the document only registers their names without providing any further information. See Peng Hao et al. (eds.) 彭浩等編, Er nian lüling yu zouyanshu 二年律令與奏讞書 (Shanghai: Shanghai guji, 2007), p. 293. 49 Shi ji 89, p. 2582; 99, p. 2719. 50 Shi ji 89, pp. 2580-2581. 47

Kinship hierarchy would have been useless for negotiating power relationships between governing elites had any of the involved kin refused to observe the conflation of familial and political hierarchies. But this was not the case of Zhang Ao, the King of Zhao, who chose to conform to the widening of stratification between emperor and subordinate rulers. The first emperor Liu Bang exploited his position in kinship hierarchy as father-in-law to belittle the King of Zhao in daily activities during his visit to the Zhao area. Instead of treating the King of Zhao as a peer ruler, the emperor acted like a quick-tempered father-in-law scorning a disliked son-in-law. The King of

Zhao endured the humiliation and behaved as an obedient junior in the family.51

Nonetheless, Zhang Ao was not an ordinary son-in-law, but a ruler with a group of loyal followers. Unlike commoners, the interaction between the emperor and the King of Zhao was not simply “family business” but also represented constant negotiation of power distribution with political consequences.

Although Zhang Ao, the King of Zhao, accepted the emperor’s assertion of higher status over subordinate rulers by complying with his inferior family position as a son- in-law, his followers were greatly angered by the emperor’s trampling down the political status and dignity of their ruler. The king’s followers decided to resist such disrespect through which the differentiation between emperor and subordinate rulers was clearly broadened. But their scheme failed, leading to the imperial prosecution of the king in 198 B.C.E.52 The King of Zhao opted to not forsake his allegiance to the

Han state when facing the accusation of defection. But his marriage with Princess

Luyan also allowed him to receive more lenient treatment. Although demoted to be a

51 Shi ji 89, p. 2583. 52 Shi ji 8, p. 386; 89, pp. 2583-2585. 48 lord, Zhang Ao was not executed by Empress Lü after the degradation, as happened to the aforementioned client Han Xin, the King of Chu. Instead of eliminating this client- ruler, Empress Lü even defended Zhang Ao.53 Empress Lü’s appreciation of affinity was crucial in sparing this client-ruler from mortal danger.

While the first emperor Liu Bang relied on military expeditions to restructure the distribution of political power between him and client rulers, Empress Lü anticipated kinship and affinity with both the Liu and Lü families as the predominant principle for securing the membership in the top governing elite circle. In the processes of reorganizing the Han governing elite group, Empress Lü was deeply involved in the dirty work, assisting the emperor to clear subordinate thrones for kin by persecuting client-rulers.54 When Liu Bang died in 195 B.C.E., almost all king-level thrones in the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions were in the hands of his sons.55

The predominance of emperor’s kin among holders of subordinate thrones allowed Empress Dowager Lü to discontinue the aggressive elimination of remnant clients and friends, taking advantage of kin and affines to continue transforming the top governing elite circle of the Han state into a kin-based unit. The widowed Empress

Lü initially planned to slaughter all clients of the deceased emperor in order to secure the authority of their son, Emperor Hui. But an imperial advisor convinced her that such action would, on the contrary, make all supporters renounce their allegiance and turn against Han authority, consequently destroying the newborn state.56

The worry about concerted challenges from the remaining followers was

53 Shi ji 18, p. 950; 89, p. 2584. 54 Shi ji 9, p. 396. 55 The only exception was Wu Rui, the King of Changsha, in the Yangtze River region. 56 See Shi ji 8, p. 392. 49 probably one of the reasons Empress Dowager Lü resorted to less violent methods for reconfiguring the top governing elite circle. But her new method—marriage alliances—also generated advantages to her natal family. Members in the Lü family were elevated to a status almost equal to those of the Liu family. Empress Dowager

Lü’s daughter had already married the client-king Zhang Ao, and her younger sister wed Fan Kuai the Lord of Wuyang, who was Liu Bang’s friend.57 Empress Dowager

Lü further pursued the incorporation of the entire Liu and Lü families into one single royal lineage that constituted the overwhelming majority of the top governing elite circle. Empress Dowager Lü married the daughter of Zhang Ao to Emperor Hui so that the new generation of emperor and empress had both Liu and Lü affiliations.58 She then enfeoffed the sons of Emperor Hui and that of Princess Luyuan to be kings and lords.59 Her sister was also granted the position of lord.60 In addition, daughters of

Empress Dowager Lü’s nephews were married as primary wives to sons and grandsons of Liu Bang’s consorts.61 All these marriages intertwined the Liu and Lü families. At the same time Empress Dowager Lü, her sister, and nephews occupied the superior family position over kings and lords of the Liu family—Empress Dowager Lü herself was mother of Emperor Hui and grandmother of kings and lords born from

Emperor Hui and from Princess Luyuan. The nephews and sister of Empress Dowager

Lü became the parents-in-laws of kings and lords who were Liu Bang’s sons, grandsons, or distant relatives.

57 Shi ji 95, p. 2659; 56, pp. 2058-1059. 58 Shi ji 49, p. 1969. 59 Shi ji 9, p. 401 and p. 405. 60 Shi ji 9, p. 402; 95, p. 2659. 61 Those included Liu Zhang (the Lord of Zhuxu), Liu Ze (the Lord of Yingling), Liu You (the King of Zhao) and Liu Hui (the subsequent King of Zhao). See Shi ji 9, pp. 400-401 and pp. 403-404; 52, p. 2000. 50

While the top governing elite circle of the Han state was converted to be a nearly kin-based unit during the reign of Empress Dowager Lü, the negotiation of political power among kins and affines was not necessarily peaceful. Unlike Zhang Ao who complied with the conflation of familial and political hierarchies, kings and lords of the Liu family were reluctant participants in Empress Dowager Lü’s building of affinity that elevated the political status of the Lü family to stand with the Liu family as dual powers in the top governing elite circle. There had been a few signs of passive resistance. Granting his marriage with Empress Dowager Lü’s grandniece, Liu Zhang, the Lord of Zhuxu, found an excuse to kill a member in the Lü family, thus demonstrating his distaste for affines without risking persecution from Empress

Dowager Lü.62 Two kings of the Liu family did not favor their primary wives from the

Lü family. But they were not tolerated as in the case of the Lord of Zhuxu. Such action reduced the chance of producing an heir of Lü origin. As an obstacle to the weaving together of the two families, both kings were pressured to death and disallowed from having an heir to succeed their thrones.63 The emptied thrones were then given to

Empress Dowager Lü’s nephews.64

What is worth emphasizing is that regardless of subordinate rulers’ reluctance to conform to the conflation of familial and political hierarchies, kinship and affinity did make some difference in the restructuring of the top governing elite circle. Members of the Liu and Lü families managed their competitions for redistributing political

62 Shi ji 52, pp. 2000-2001. 63 Shi ji 9, pp. 403-404. 64 As Liu You (the King of Zhao) was starved to death, Liu Hui (the King of Liang) was reassigned to be the King of Zhao. At the same time Lü Chan (the King of Lü) replaced Liu Hui to be the King of Liang. After Liu Hui committed suicide, Lü Lu took over the throne of Zhao. See Shi ji 9, p. 404. 51 power as an exclusive “family business.” Unlike the first Han emperor’s elimination of client-rulers, Empress Dowager Lü launched no military expeditions to persecute kin-rulers. Accordingly, no subordinate rulers of the Liu family had legitimate reason to take military action in response to the expanding influence of the Lü family in the top governing elite circle. All conflicts were confined to members at the top of the political realm, excusing commoners from being involved in the dynamics of the governing elites’ struggles for power.

There were limits to the reliance on kinship and affinity to negotiate political power. While Empress Dowager Lü transformed the highest governing elite circle into a unit in which kins and affines of both Liu and Lü families were the overwhelming majority, the death of the nodal personnel who connected the two families could bring unpredictable consequences to this kin-based group. As the undeniable offspring of the first Han emperor and empress and the new leader of the governing elite group,

Emperor Hui could have continued the bonding of both families in sharing power.

Unfortunately Emperor Hui died before his mother Empress Dowager Lü. And after the death of Empress Dowager Lü in 180 B.C.E., the last key node linking the two families disappeared. Refusing to allow affinity as admission for sharing political power, kings and lords of the Liu family eliminated those of the Lü family from the top governing elite circle, even though some of them had wives from the Lü family.

To fully remove the Lü influence, the succession line of Emperor Hui was void.

His sons were denounced as not biologically from him,65 thus delegitimizing their status as imperial heirs. The inheritance of emperorship was pushed back to the

65 Shi ji 9, p. 410. 52 generation of Liu Bang’s sons. The King of Dai, whose mother was a powerless consort of Liu Bang, was made Emperor Wen, the legitimate successor of Emperor

Hui. All subordinate thrones previously held by Lü affiliates were invalidated or transferred to male members of the Liu family. From the reign of Emperor Wen onwards, the king-level thrones were tightly secured in the hands of the Liu family.66

The highest titles for subordinate rulers without the surname Liu could only be at the lord-level.

But affinity remained a useful means for Han emperors to tighten allegiance with governing elites of non-kin. Emperor Wen married a princess to the crown-prince of

Zhou Bo, the Lord of Jiang, who was a long-time follower of Liu Bang and supported the King of Dai’s ascendance to the imperial throne.67 This marriage might have been a reward for Zhou Bo’s support. Until the reign of Emperor Wu, lords were mostly the sons or husbands of princesses.68 The Han emperor’s reliance on family ties entirely outweighed friendship and patron-client relationship in the highest governing elite circle. Although affinity did not exempt non-kin rulers from persecution,69 marriage with princesses created the illusion that their fate was tied with the survival of the royal lineage, thus increasing their willingness to continue their support for the emperor. Such marriage alliances allowed the emperor to avoid turning non-kin subordinate rulers into an immediate political threat. Since the reign of Emperor Wen,

66 In 157 B.C.E., the final year of Emperor Wen’s reign, the only non-kin of the Han emperor that held the king-level throne—the Wu family—was removed. The excuse for this removal was a lack of an heir. In the second year of Emperor Jing’s reign (155 B.C.E.), the new emperor enfeoffed his own son Liu Fa as the new King of Changsha. See Shi ji 17, pp. 838-840; Han shu 5, p. 141. 67 Shi ji 57, p. 2072. 68 This phenomenon is best summarized in Shi ji 107, p. 2843. For some examples, see Shi ji 11, p. 443; 18, p. 884; p. 887 and p. 914; 19, p. 1022. 69 For instance, Zhou Bo, the Lord of Jiang, was still imprisoned even after his son’s marriage with Emperor Wen’s daughter. Shi ji 57, p. 2072. 53 a standardized ranking principle was consolidated at the highest governing elite circle.

The king-level thrones were dominated by emperor’s direct male siblings and sons.

Lord-level thrones were held by both kin and affines. An exclusively kin-based governing elite group had taken shape.

(3) Negotiation of Power Spheres in the Name of Fraternity

While its highest governing elite circle in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions had been restructured into a kin-only unit, the Han court also began to re-negotiate its sphere of power in East Asia with the Xiongnu ruler. As the dominant power holders in the Han state were now brothers, sons, and cousins of the Liu family, the new Han leader Emperor Wen seemed to assume at the beginning of his reign that the political landscape of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions was consolidated enough for him to renegotiate status hierarchy with Modu Chanyu. This assumption was reflected in his early enthusiasm for launching military expeditions against Xiongnu forces, although the emperor had guaranteed the continuation of heqin activities when he ascended the imperial throne. However, optimism about kin solidarity was immediately challenged by subordinate rulers’ attempts to ally with the Xiongnu against the imperial court. As subordinate Han rulers remained willing to introduce

Xiongnu forces to challenge imperial assertion of supreme authority, the emperor had to set aside his ambition of renegotiating status hierarchy with the Xiongnu chanyu and focus on securing his own sphere of power.

Heqin activities became a crucial means for declaring the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions as the emperor’s power sphere by presenting the Han court as the only

54 legitimate representative of the region to communicate with other regional powers.

Unlike previous emperors, Emperor Wen actively manipulated interstate communication to influence the Xiongnu ruler’s decisions and behavior. Invoking the language of fraternity and “two masters” when refering to the relationship and status of the two rulers, the Han court declared that only the emperor and the chanyu were equals in the sense that both were the supreme leader of their respective region.70 The portrayal of fraternity between the two rulers lowered subordinate Han rulers’ status in the political hierarchy as lesser powers that should be excluded from the highest level of interaction in East Asia. While competing with subordinate rulers for interstate communication with other regional powers, the Han emperor also used heqin activities to keep Xiongnu forces from interfering in conflicts between the emperor and subordinate rulers within the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

As discussed before, little evidence suggests that the imperial court in the beginning of the second century B.C.E. was certain about how to work heqin activities to its advantage, despite the self-serving claim that kinship hierarchy would bring

Xiongnu leaders into submission in the unforeseeable future. While each of the emperors sent a properly titled princess to the chanyu, in the first four decades every new Han ruler considered the possibility of reverting to military action against

Xiongnu forces. In the end, they chose to continue heqin activities. Emperor Wen was no exception, and he had better reasons to challenge Xiongnu power through military means.

70 Both the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu used in their letters phrases such as “fraternity” to describe their intimate relationship and “two masters” to demonstrate their status as peer regional leaders. See Shi ji 110, pp. 2896-2897 and pp. 2902-2903. 55

After the subordinate thrones in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions were entirely controlled by members of the Liu family, Emperor Wen would have assumed that military expeditions against subordinate rulers were no longer necessary. Such confidence was revealed in his desire for taking military action against Xiongnu forces early in his reign. The first sign was in 177 B.C.E. when a Xiongnu king, the Worthy

King of the Right, attacked frontier Han officials stationed in Shang Commandery in the Ordos. The Han court sent a letter to the Xiongnu chanyu protesting this incident, and in return the chanyu sent an emissary to deliver a reply to the emperor, which was probably ignored by the Han court.71 These correspondence exchanges were an indication that regularized communication channels existed between the two leaders that could have been used for non-violent negotiations. But instead of treating the incident as a local dispute between some frontier Han officials and a Xiongnu king, the emperor escalated it to the level of interstate warfare. The emperor issued an edict that cited the Worthy King of the Right’s action as evidence of Modu Chanyu’s disobedience to heqin agreements, providing a reason to justify the emperor’s dispatching of troops into the Ordos. Emperor Wen himself even visited his former subordinate state in the Dai area in preparation for this military expedition.72

The Han court’s aggressive stance in this incident could have had to do with the location of Shang Commandery. The Ordos was an area in which representatives of both the Han and the Xiongnu powers were present. On the Han side, as this area was immediately to the north of the imperial capital, it was not given to subordinate rulers

71 These communication activities regarding the incident are indicated in one of Modu Chanyu’s letters to Emperor Wen. See Shi ji 110, p. 2896. 72 Shi ji 10, p. 425; 110, p. 2895. 56 as separate states, but was under the direct control of the imperial bureaucratic system and divided into multiple commanderies.73 On the Xiongnu side, the Ordos steppe along the Yellow River region was the sphere of the lesser kings of the Right (“Right” refers to “West”).74 Few details were left to us about daily interactions between representatives of the Han and the Xiongnu powers in the Ordos area during this period. There is no way to know what provoked the Worthy King of the Right to attack frontier Han officials in the area. But Shang Commandery was situated in the middle area encircled by the Yellow River loop on the Ordos, which was fairly close to the imperial capital of the Han. Had the Worthy King of the Right wished to advance further southward, his troops could have reached the imperial capital within less than one day.75 The king’s attacks in a commandery so close to the imperial capital gave

Emperor Wen a legitimate excuse to treat this conflict as a challenge to Han authority.

But the development of this incident showed that the communication channel established through heqin activities provided an effective option to deflect the two leaders from taking military action, especially when Modu Chanyu seemed more interested in adhering to heqin activities. Contrary to Emperor Wen’s edict which painted this incident in 177 B.C.E. as interstate warfare, one year later Modu Chanyu sent a letter to the emperor that downplayed the incident as a personal feud between the Worthy King of the Right and frontier Han officials.

73 Sima Qian synthesizes in the “Biographies of Money-makers 貨殖列傳” the economic significance of the west corner of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions surrounding the imperial capital, especially the livestock benefits of the Ordos area. See Shi ji 129, pp. 3261-3262. For an analysis of the geopolitical importance of the imperial capital and its surrounding areas, see Yen Keng-wang [Yan Gengwang], pp. 33-35. 74 Shi ji 110, p. 2890. 75 According to the estimate of Liu Jing, the first Han emperor’s advisor, it might take light cavalry only one full day (一日一夜) to reach the imperial capital from the northern side of the Yellow River loop in the Ordos. See Shi ji 99, p. 2719. 57

This letter was skillfully composed. The opening paragraph of the correspondence reiterated the fraternity established between the two leaders through heqin activities. This mention of fraternity recognized that only the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu were the legitimate regional leaders for handling interstate business. No lesser rulers in both the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions and on the steppe should be allowed to intervene. This opening led to the following passage that defined the incident as an unauthorized local feud. In a complaining tone, the chanyu’s letter explained that the incident in 177 B.C.E. occurred because some rude Han officials stationed in Shang Commandery “insulted and humiliated the Worthy King of the Right 侵侮右賢王” and thus provoked the king’s revenge.76 By arguing that the

Worthy King of the Right’s action was for personal revenge, Modu Chanyu disassociated himself from the incident, thus reinforcing the idea that the Xiongnu ruler remained faithful to heqin agreements with the Han emperor. The same rhetoric also implied that the fundamental trouble-makers were frontier Han officials, thereby defending his follower the Worthy King of the Right. This complaint about frontier

Han officials’ misconduct inverted Emperor Wen’s portrayal in the imperial edict of the Xiongnu king’s killing of Han officials and soldiers as interstate warfare by placing the blame on some “petty officials 小吏” (probably referring to the officials of both sides) who incited trouble.

The Worthy King of the Right’s attacks might indeed have targeted only those

Han officials who insulted him. Emperor Wen’s edict stated that the king’s troops

“captured and killed [Han] officials and soldiers, harassing and attacking barbarians

76 Shi ji 110, p. 2896. 58 who were guarding the fortresses of Shang Commandery. 捕殺吏卒，敺侵上郡保塞

蠻夷.”77 As Han officials were never unprotected, it should be no surprise that Han soldiers and local “barbarians” who guarded the fortresses were unavoidably involved in the Worthy King of the Right’s revenge. Furthermore, when Emperor Wen sent troops into Shang Commandery, the Worthy King of the Right retreated. No military engagement occurred between forces of the Worthy King of the Right and Emperor

Wen.

But more important was that, regardless of the Worthy King of the Right’s retreat,

Emperor Wen also halted his advance into the Ordos because his cousin Liu Xingju, the King of Jibei, “rebelled.”78 The emperor’s withdrawal of military resources from the Ordos revealed that the real threat was the King of Jibei’s unauthorized mobilization of troops that were moving toward the imperial capital. This confrontation between the Han emperor and a subordinate Han king indicated that even after admission to the highest governing elite circle in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions was restricted to the first Han emperor’s direct male descendants, the political landscape remained unconsolidated as a coherent entity. Emperor Wen quickly abandoned his initial plan for declaring interstate war against Xiongnu forces, instead opting to redirect human and material resources to suppress the King of Jibei’s troops.79 The reorienting of resources shows that the Han court was fully aware that the imperial capital was much more likely to be attacked by a subordinate Han king’s

77 Emperor Wen’s edict, as recorded in Shi ji, uses a variant (葆) of the character bao 保 (to protect). The same variant is used in the “Autobiographical Afterword of the Grand Historian 太史公自序” in the summaries of the “Treatise on the Douyue 東越列傳” and the “Treatise of Chaoxian 朝鮮列傳.” See Shi ji, p. 3317. Also see the edict recorded in Han shu 64a, p. 3756. 78 Shi ji 52, p. 2010. 79 Shi ji 10, pp. 425-426; 52, p. 2010; 95, p. 2673; 110, p. 2895. 59 forces from the east than by the Worthy King of the Right’s Xiongnu troops from the north.

Modu Chanyu’s letter did not merely defend the Worthy King of the Right while absolving the chanyu from any connection with the incident in 177 B.C.E. The following segment of the letter reasserted the chanyu’s adherence to heqin agreements by stating that the Worthy King of the Right was duly punished for his unauthorized action in the Ordos. Noteworthy was the elaboration on how the king was “punished.”

According to the correspondence, the Worthy King of the Right was sent to conquer states in the west all the way into the Tarim Basin region. And now Modu Chanyu reported that “all peoples who draw the bow [for a living] are united into one family.

諸引弓之民幷為一家.” By declaring that “the northern region has been pacified 北州

已定,” the chanyu not only boasted of the military might of the Xiongnu, but also subtly warned the Han ruler not to challenge the Xiongnu. But the carrot came after the stick. Invoking the ideal of the peace and happiness of the ruled, Modu Chanyu expressed his interest in continuing heqin activities with the Han court rather than fighting against each other along the southern edge of the steppe.80

This passage explains why from 200 B.C.E. to the reign of Emperor Wen in around 170 B.C.E., it was always the Xiongnu chanyu who actively promoted the continuation of heqin activities. The Worthy King of the Right’s conquests show that during this period Modu Chanyu’s focus was on expanding his sphere of power on the steppe and into the Tarim Basin region. Although he welcomed subordinate Han rulers in the Yellow River region to join Xiongnu forces, nothing suggested any ambition on

80 Shi ji 110, p. 2896. 60 the part of Modu Chanyu to push southward into a region beyond the steppe.81 As the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions was not viewed as a land for conquest, it was in

Modu Chanyu’s interest to maintain the delicate balance along the southern edge of the steppe, collaborating with the Han emperor through heqin activities that affirmed the Xiongnu’s unchallenged superiority as a regional superpower on the steppe.

Negotiation and contestation under the rubric of heqin served as a safety valve that allowed potentially bellicose activities to be controlled through letter exchanges.

Although the Han court reluctantly continued heqin activities due to the veiled intimidation in Modu Chanyu’s “olive branch” message, communicative interaction with the Xiongnu chanyu quickly proved useful for Emperor Wen in negotiating his status against subordinate Han rulers in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

Regardless of how administrators in the imperial court interpreted Modu Chanyu’s correspondence, the decision to continue heqin activities was most likely related to the threat of subordinate Han rulers, manifested in their contact with Xiongnu forces that bypassed the imperial court. Emperor Wen’s reply to Modu Chanyu’s letter was sent in

174 B.C.E. This was the same year in which the emperor’s brother, the King of

Huainan, was accused of treason. More importantly, the accusation was based on imperial bureaucrats’ report that the king sent emissaries to Xiongnu and Minyue (Min

Viet) rulers.82

After the King of Jibei, this second “treason” in the early reign of Emperor Wen reaffirmed that even after subordinate thrones were held by members of the Liu family,

81 Modu Chanyu’s lack of interest in viewing the Yellow River region as a land for conquest is implied in an anecdote about how the first Han emperor was able to escape from being captured by Xiongnu forces. See Shi ji 93, p. 2634; 110, p. 2894. 82 Shi ji 10, p. 426; 118, pp. 3076-3077. 61 this kin-based governing elite group still did not guarantee the subordinate rulers’ full support of Han leadership. Moreover, even brothers and cousins were not hesitant to contest the supreme status of the Han emperor in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions by attempting to communicate with Xiongnu and Viet rulers or even mobilizing their forces in the region to challenge the emperor. While persecuting the

King of Huainan, the emperor delivered a friendly reply and generous gifts to Modu

Chanyu.83 Based on the timing, this action could be understood as an effort to invoke heqin for discouraging the Xiongnu chanyu from collaborating with subordinate Han rulers.

When Modu Chanyu died, Emperor Wen quickly sent a Han princess to the successor Laoshang Chanyu.84 This prompt renewal of marriage alliances demonstrated a new realization on the part of the Han court that heqin activities were crucial for both securing its monopoly of communicative interaction with the Xiongnu ruler and declaring its status vis-à-vis subordinate Han rulers as the only legitimate representative of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. Unlike marriage alliances with non-kin in the Han governing elite group, a political marriage with the Xiongnu chanyu was not for enhancing group solidarity. By placing a princess in the new chanyu’s household and annually sending gifts, the Han court maintained a communication channel between the two rulers that increased the possibility for swaying the Xiongnu’s decisions and actions.

Regular contact between the two rulers is evident in records of Zhonghang Yue, an imperial servant who switched his allegiance and became a trusted advisor of

83 Shi ji 110, p. 2897. 84 Shi ji 110, p. 2898. 62

Laoshang Chanyu after escorting the Han princess to the Xiongnu for the heqin marriage. Zhonghang Yue’s debates with Han emissaries suggest that visitors from the

Han imperial court were not rare.85 As subordinate Han rulers were excluded from involvement in heqin activities, their contact with the Xiongnu ruler would presumably be irregular or nearly non-existent compared to that of the imperial court.

As long as heqin activities were properly maintained, the emperor would have had more chances than subordinate rulers to influence the chanyu’s political behavior to be in favor of Han authority.

For unknown reasons, the successors of Modu Chanyu took a more aggressive stance in the Ordos. In response to this change, the Han court also became more active in taking advantage of the communication channel established through heqin activities to define the spheres of power between the two leaders in East Asia. When Laoshang

Chanyu launched an expedition in 166 B.C.E. that approached quite close to the imperial capital, Emperor Wen quickly communicated with the new chanyu in the name of heqin.86 In a letter sent in 162 B.C.E. to the chanyu, Emperor Wen even attempted to negotiate with the Xiongnu ruler for a clear-cut divide along the southern edge of the steppe. This was an indication that the Han authority was no longer satisfied with the abstract language of “two masters” and demanded concrete demarcation of their respective spheres of power so that territories and subjects could be alloted with no ambiguity between the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu.

The desired demarcation was twofold: the physical markers on the ground and the cultural markers on human beings. Neither implied any reference to ecological

85 Shi ji 110, pp. 2898-2901. 86 Shi ji 110, p. 2901. 63 conditions. The physical divide in Emperor Wen’s opinion was the long walls which were located on the southern steppe, and the cultural one was lifestyle. This Han letter in 162 B.C.E. in a sense advanced the aforementioned Xiongnu proclamation in 176

B.C.E. to Emperor Wen that “all peoples who draw the bow [for a living] are united into one family” by arguing that the same principle applied to the emperor’s sphere, which was characterized by “cap and girdle 冠帶.” In this letter to the chanyu,

Emperor Wen alleged that former emperors decreed “to the north of the long walls are the states of [those who] draw the bow, and [they] receive commands from the chanyu; to the south of the long walls are the households of [those who wear] cap and girdle, and I likewise control them. 長城以北，引弓之國，受命單于；長城以南，冠帶之

室，朕亦制之.”87 The letter imprudently ignored the ongoing competition between emperor and subordinate Han rulers over status hierarchy and the existence of other states in the south such as the Kingdom of Nanyue (South Viet) in the Pearl River region. With such an indiscriminate claim, the Han emperor also furthered the equation of his status in East Asia to that of the chanyu by portraying himself as the supreme ruler of all powers to the south of the long walls.

To complement this wished-for division of power spheres in East Asia, the Han imperial court issued an edict that forbade migration crossing this divide.88 The emperor even heeded on clarifying the issue of fugitives and captives in both sides for the purpose of showing his commitment in realizing this division in practice.89

87 Shi ji 110, p. 2902. 88 Shi ji 110, p. 2903. 89 There are two interpretations to the phrase in Emperor Wen’s letter to the chanyu regarding fugitives and captives of the Han and of the Xiongnu. One interpretation is that the Han released those Xiongnu 64

Through this gesture of not protecting subjects who “should be” under Xiongnu control, Emperor Wen was apparently expecting that the Xiongnu chanyu would do the same. But these efforts of the Han court to define an unambiguous divide ironically suggested that such a clear-cut separation of territory and subjects did not exist along the southern edge of the steppe.

The Han court’s attempts to negotiate and reify its sphere of power in the name of heqin could be viewed as a preparation for Emperor Wen’s successor, Emperor Jing, to deal with the problem of the subordinate Han rulers by discouraging Xiongnu forces from allying with them. The kinship hierarchy between Emperor Jing and the subordinate rulers did not favor the new Han emperor, as many subordinate thrones were held by his uncles and cousins. Indeed, there were early signs in his father’s reign that kinship with the emperor did not prevent subordinate Han kings from inviting Xiongnu forces into alliances against the Han emperor.

The challenge of the subordinate rulers to Han rule in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions culminated in a massive military confrontation between the Han emperor and seven Han kings in 154 B.C.E. This warfare also showed how the

Xiongnu ruler was involved in the competition between the emperor and the subordinate rulers in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. By duly conducting heqin activities since ascending to the imperial throne,90 Emperor Jing apparently took advantage of heqin alliances to make the Xiongnu ruler act in favor of the emperor by staying out of all affairs in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. At the same time, fugitives and captives, and sent them back to the steppe. The other interpretation is that the Han no longer chased Han fugitives and captives in the Xiongnu sphere. See annotations in Shi ji 110, pp. 2903- 2904; Han shu 64a, pp. 3763-3764. 90 Han shu 5, pp. 140-141. 65 the subordinate Han kings who attempted to challenge imperial rule not only allied with each other, but also sent emissaries to the Xiongnu and the Viets seeking military assistance. The King of Zhao, whose state was in the Yellow River region, played an important role in inviting Xiongnu forces to participate in the subordinate Han kings’ challenge to the imperial court.91 The rivalry between the imperial court and the subordinate Han kings over cementing alliances with Xiongnu forces indicated that both parties recognized that the presence of the Xiongnu in the north and the Viets in the south could determine the dynamics of power in the political landscape of Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

While the Han court used heqin activities to stop the Chanyu from intervening in its declared sphere of power, the subordinate Han kings wanted to introduce Xiongnu forces into the Yellow River region to renegotiate the status hierarchy between themselves and the emperor. Nonetheless, Emperor Jing’s attentive heqin activities did pay off. Unlike Dongyue (East Viet) troops which immediately joined the allied forces of subordinate Han rulers,92 the Xiongnu did not provide any real assistance to them.

The Xiongnu forces did seem to make some moves on the steppe that were interpreted in contemporary records as a sign of Xiongnu responses to the King of Zhao’s request for alliances. And the Xiongnu troops’ remaining on the steppe was explained as a halt due to the imperial forces’ military success over “revolted” subordinate rulers.93 But the retarded and ultimate inaction of Xiongnu troops in assisting the subordinate Han

91 Shi ji 106, p. 2827. 92 The leader of the “revolt” subordinate rulers, Liu Pi the King of Wu, sought military assistance from the two Viets. Although the Minyue (Min Viet) did not seem to take any action, the Dongyue (East Viet) quickly sent troops to support the king’s forces. See Shi ji 106, p. 2827. 93 Shi ji 50, p. 1990; 106, p. 2827; 110, p. 2904. 66 kings could also be understood as hesitation, if not refusal, to break heqin agreements with the imperial court. Contemporary records do not specify what moves the Xiongnu troops took on the steppe. But these activities could simply be a precaution for any unexpected trouble spreading into the Xiongnu sphere of power due to the political mess in the Yellow River region.

If we are to believe contemporary Han interpretation about Xiongnu moves on the steppe, the steppe forces might indeed have entered the Yellow River region had the imperial forces seemed to be losing the war. But in effect, Xiongnu troops stayed entirely outside the Han emperor’s sphere of power, watching this warfare between the emperor and the subordinate Han rulers until its end. The chanyu could have played a waiting game. However, even this slight hesitation on the Xiongnu part was enough for saving the Han capital from being attacked by both the subordinate Han rulers from the east and the Xiongnu forces from the north at the same time. As the subordinate rulers’ forces were rapidly suppressed, the Xiongnu chanyu did not break the negotiated balance with the emperor along the southern edge of the steppe. About two years after the end of this warfare, the Han court sent a princess to marry the chanyu.94 While this marriage was certainly a reassurance of the “fraternity” between the two rulers, the timing suggested that this action could also be seen as a reward to the Xiongnu chanyu for not breaking heqin agreements and assisting the subordinate

Han rulers, thus indirectly increasing the Han court’s capacity to win the war.

The following years of Emperor Jing’s reign witnessed a relatively peaceful relationship between the two rulers, with heqin activities being properly conducted. At

94 Han shu 5, p. 144. 67 the same time the resources in the subordinate Han rulers’ hands were greatly reduced and shifted to the control of the imperial bureaucratic system. As will be discussed in next chapter, these changes in the distribution of power and resources in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions prepared for the next stage of negotiations between the

Han and Xiongnu—in which the Han began to intrude aggressively into the Xiongnu’s sphere of influence in the Tarim Basin for the purpose of renegotiating the status hierarchy of leadership in East Asia.

Chapter Two:

From a Confined Polity to a Trans-regional Superpower

As demonstrated in Chapter 1, since 202 B.C.E. the Han court restructured its top governing elite circle from a power-sharing coalition bound together through kinship, friendship, and clientage into a kin-based unit. One after another, frustrated subordinate Han kings turned to foreign powers such as the Xiongnu chanyu in search of alternative shelter or support, indirectly introducing Xiongnu influences into power struggles in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

Nonetheless, the imperial reconfiguration of its power-sharing circle was just part of the story. Han emperors clearly did not envision their desired power structure as political alliances cemented by an egalitarian male kin network between the emperor and peer Han kings. While replacing client-rulers with kin and affines of the emperor as holders of subordinate thrones, a parallel process was taking place that led to the termination in the mid-second century B.C.E. of balanced power distribution in the highest governing elite group. This process was imperial encroachment over subordinate powers through extending Han-assigned bureaucrats into subordinate states, coupled with re-shuffling of state-assignments based on kinship distance with the sitting emperor. After the bureaucratic system superseded holders of subordinate thrones as the dominant mediator of resources and information in the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions, this system continued to expand rapidly at a time of imperial expansion during the reign of Emperor Wu (r. 141 B.C.E.-87 B.C.E.). Bureaucratic

assistance not only made possible Emperor Wu’s ultimate elimination of political peers within the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, but also sustained and facilitated his ambitious expansive projects that confronted foreign powers in various regions of

East Eurasia.

This chapter begins with a discussion of the transition in the Han administrative structure that led to the centralization of power and resources in the hands of Emperor

Wu and his bureaucracy, preparing the political and economic foundations for imperial expansion in the late second century B.C.E. Drawing support from imperial bureaucrats outside the coalition system, three generations of emperors (Emperors

Wen, Jing, and Wu) aggressively deprived subordinate kings and lords of their original role as co-rulers in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, reducing them into mere figureheads in the royal lineage who no longer possessed enough resources and influence to rival the Han authority of the late second century B.C.E. The imperial success in making such a transition greatly increased the Han court’s capacity to marshal massive human and material resources across the entire region for initiating multiple imperial projects and at the same time to renegotiate its status in East Euraisa with the Xiongnu power.

I then analyze the ways in which the developments in imperial bureaucracy went hand in hand with the military and diplomatic expansion of the Han state throughout the long reign of Emperor Wu. Eager to prove the rising might of Han central authority,

Emperor Wu launched a series of military expeditions on all fronts, challenging the

Xiongnu power and intruding into unknown regions such as the Tarim Basin, which was originally under the Xiongnu influence. While declaring the Han presence to

unfamiliar powers through a militant statement, such shock effect was enhanced by building a Han-centered interstate network in the larger political landscape of East

Eurasia. Acquainted alliance institutions such as kinship and clientage, once used to cement the coalition of the nascent Han state, were diverted for connecting the Han emperor to ruling houses in newfound regions. As the competition over gaining allied states intensified between the Han and the Xiongnu, imperial bureaucracy was hastily elaborated and extended to circulate large amounts of resources and information across distant regions for maintaining the growing Han-centered alliance network and the elevated status of Han imperial power in East Eurasia.

Structural Background: From Coalition to Centralized Bureaucracy

The massive military confrontation in 154 B.C.E. between Emperor Jing and the allied forces of seven subordinate kings marked a watershed in the process of reconfiguring the highest governing elite group in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. This incident was the climax of five-decade-long cooperation and competition between the emperor and the subordinate rulers since the establishment of the Han state. Generations of emperors reluctantly shared with subordinate kings and lords political power and resources in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in exchange for their service in governing such a large region and for their allegiance in upholding the Han court as the supreme regional representative. On the other hand, with so many areas and resources uncontrolled by imperial bureaucracy, the Han court quickly constricted its power-sharing circle to direct kin and affines of the emperor. The expectation was that a kin-based political network would reduce resistance from

subordinate rulers while centralizing power in the emperor.

But kinship with the emperor did not translate into subordinate rulers’ willingness to forego their political status as peers to the Han court. Those who did not see themselves as inferior to the emperor resisted imperial assertion of superiority either by ignoring behavioral markers of political hierarchy imposed on them, or by confronting the Han authority militarily when accused of treason. This was evident in the reign of Emperor Wen when subordinate kings conducted military or communicative activities unauthorized by the imperial court. As warfare remained a necessary means for settling political disagreements in the highest governing elite group, Han emperors of the early second century B.C.E. began to nurture a much more submissive support base—imperial bureaucrats outside the coalition system. While

Xiongnu forces were kept on the steppe through heqin activities, three generations of

Han emperors furthered their competition with holders of subordinate thrones by diligently augmenting imperial bureaucracy for disentangling subordinate Han rulers from governance in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, and ultimately eliminating their political power and resources.

(1) Imperial Promotion of Bureaucrats against Subordinate Rulers

In the early second century B.C.E., not only were large part of the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions controlled by subordinate Han rulers, but the upper bureaucracy was also intertwined with the coalition system. The highest bureaucratic offices in the imperial court were usually staffed by lord-level subordinate Han rulers.1

1 In the imperial court, successive holders of the Prime Ministerial office were all lords who contributed

Although co-governing with subordinate rulers was unavoidable for the nascent Han state both in the imperial court and in subordinate states, monarchs of this period also began to recruit and promote individuals whose political life was completely dependent on imperial favor and government appointment. This group of “ordinary” bureaucrats became a crucial force that assisted each monarch in monitoring and suppressing subordinate rulers in the imperial court and in subordinate states.

Imperial bureaucrats outside the coalition system were neither co-founders of the

Han state nor members in the imperial lineage. Unlike holders of subordinate thrones, who were connected to the emperor and to each other both as political allies and as friends and kin, “ordinary” bureaucrats completely depended on their service to the emperor to be linked to the political realm of the imperial state. Consequently, the emperor had greater flexibility in disciplining these bureaucrats when they did not behave in accordance with imperial interests, as they had almost no alternative supporting network of kinship or friendship in the higher governing elite group for retaining political power. Such inherent vulnerability made imperial bureaucrats an ideal option as the providers of governing service to a ruler unwilling to share power with peers.

More importantly, imperial bureaucrats outside the coalition system were most willing to cooperate with the emperor for suppressing subordinate powers. Ordinary bureaucrats did not share common grounds with subordinate rulers. However, for gaining political influence at the state level, they needed meritorious achivements to win imperial favor. Imperial promotion of and collaboration with bureaucrats had been to the founding of the Han state, such as Xiao He 蕭何, Cao Shen 曹參, Chen Ping 陳平, Zhou Bo 周勃, and Zhang Cang 張蒼.

a key method for persecuting subordinate rulers. During the reign of Empress Lü, an official named Hou Feng 侯封 was notorious for “harshly maltreating royalties and aggressively insulting meritorious subordinate rulers. 刻轢宗室，侵辱功臣.” As argued in Chapter 1, at this period the Han court continued struggling to restructure its power-sharing circle into a kin-based unit, with the emperor’s and the empress’ families standing as dual powers. Hou Feng’s political behavior suggested that he was placed at the service of Empress Lü to exclude unwanted client rulers and to constrain reluctant affines in the Liu family. As his source of power was from the empress, he was put to death when the Lü family was purged from the highest governing elite circle by the Liu family after Empress Lü passed away.2

After securing an alliance network centering on the Liu family in the power- sharing group, Emperor Wen expected from kin steadfast allegiance, but remained reluctant to tolerate their behavioral displays as peers to the emperor. To tackle the problem of refractory subordinate rulers, Emperor Wen sought talents among ordinary bureaucrats for systematically propelling imperial centralizing efforts. One such talent was Jia Yi 賈誼, who in his youth received exceptionally fast promotion up the bureaucratic ladder due to Emperor Wen’s support. Jia Yi proposed many strategies to weaken subordinate rulers’ political power, including reducing the size of subordinate

Han kings’ states and sending lords away from the highest center of Han bureaucracy—the imperial capital.3

To test the water, Emperor Wen first implemented the later idea, which was

2 Shi ji 122, p. 3132. 3 Shi ji 84, p. 2492 and p. 2503. For some examples of Jia Yi’s proposals for weakening subordinate rulers’ power, see Han shu 48, pp. 2230-2239 and pp. 2260-2262.

apparently meant to reduce prominent lords’ influence by preventing them from clustering and networking in the imperial capital. An edict was issued requesting all lords to go to their states, except those who were retained by imperial edicts to provide government service. But lords apparently ignored this edict. Using such inattention as an excuse, the emperor discharged the Prime Minister and in-law, Zhou Bo (the Lord of Jiang). Zhou Bo was then sent off to his state in the name of setting an example to other lords.4 Emperor Wen’s early attempt to loosen subordinate rulers’ grip on the imperial court and the capital provoked discontent among lords. Their grievance was manifested in the form of mocking Jia Yi. Unready to openly confront subordinate rulers who at this point remained crucial providers of administrative service, Emperor

Wen eventually conceded by sending away Jia Yi from the imperial court, a gesture to appease lords’ resentment.5

But Emperor Wen’s distancing of Jia Yi was just a fraudulent deception. Granting

Jia Yi’s disengagement from imperial court office, his proposals were gradually implemented, especially those designed for reducing subordinate kings’s capacity to challenge the Han authority. Through combined use of the strategies recommended by

Jia Yi and the service provided by nameless imperial bureaucrats, the Han court incessantly shifted over time the distribution of power and resources between the emperor and subordinate rulers. Before analysing the application of Jia Yi’s proposals,

I examine first the existing service provided by the imperial bureaucracy for controlling holders of subordinate thrones—surveillance of subordinate Han kings through the emperor’s assigning of Prime Ministers and Grand Mentors to “assist”

4 Shi ji 10, p. 422 and pp. 424-425; 57, p. 2072. 5 Shi ji 84, p. 2492.

these kings in their courts.

The imperial court had placed subordinate Han kings under bureaucratic monitoring since the reign of the first Han emperor. While these kings appointed all officials in their own state from the top-ranking ones (two-thousand bushels) downwards, the emperor reserved the power to nominate a Prime Minister for each subordinate king.6 In addition, once a subordinate ruler was short of top-ranking officials in his state, he was in theory obliged to report this to the Han authority for assignment of officials. Only a few subordinate kings, such as Liu Chang 劉長 (the

King of Huainan and Emperor Wen’s brother) and Liu Wu 劉武 (the King of Liang and Emperor Jing’s younger brother from the same mother), insisted on appointing their own Prime Ministers and top-ranking officials, refusing any imperial intervention into their own courts. Such action was generally presented in the imperial court as an exceptional favor from the emperor, although the same action would be repainted as an indication of treason if the king in question was later persecuted.7

Even when a subordinate ruler had full control of top-officials appointments in his own state, the emperor still had the power to place a Grand Mentor in their courts, ensuring that subordinate kings were advised and educated to conform to imperial preferences.8 The imperial expectations for the Grand Mentor of a subordinate Han king were manifested in one anecdote. After the King of Huainan was persecuted because of his “treacherous” behavior, an imperial advisor Yuan Ang 袁盎 reasoned to

6 Shi ji 59, p. 2104; Han shu 1, p. 78; 38, p. 2004. 7 Shi ji 108, p. 2857; Han shu 44, p. 2137; 52, p. 2394. 8 One well-known Grand Mentor of subordinate kings was Jia Yi. After Emperor Wen opted for not taking aggressive approaches to limit subordinate rulers’ power, Jia Yi was sent off firstly to be the Grand Mentor of the King of Changsha, and later tranferred to be the Grand Mentor of the King of Liang. Shi ji 84, pp. 2491-2492, p. 2496, and p. 2503.

Emperor Wen that the cause of his brother’s disloyalty was the imperial failure to

“place [for the King of Huainan] a stern Prime Minister and a rigorous Grand Mentor

置嚴傅相.”9 Besides these institutionalized imperial appointments in the subordinate states, the emperor and subordinate rulers also sent emissaries to each other’s court to maintain ritualistic interaction and communication, propably accumulating intelligence as well.10

Subordinate rulers seemed fully aware of the surveillance function inherent in these Han-assigned bureaucrats as well as imperial emissaries. Consequently, these imperial servants became another site for the emperor and subordinate rulers to display their negotiation of and competition for political status and power. For instance, the King of Huainan demonstrated resistance to imperial intervention into his court by expelling Han-assigned bureaucrats and making his own appointments. Afterwards,

Emperor Wen used multiple excuses to “grant” gifts to the king and his officials, creating opportunities for imperial emissaries to legitimately visit the King of

Huainan’s court. But the king declined to receive any emissary and gifts from the imperial court. When the king was persecuted in 174 B.C.E., such subtle confrontation between the King of Huainan and Emperor Wen through the sending and expelling of

Han-appointed officials was reinterpreted as evidence of treason.11 Another example was found in the warfare between Emperor Jing and the allied subordinate forces in

154 B.C.E. Upon starting their armed struggle, one action that the “rebel” kings took

9 Shi ji 118, p. 3079. 10 For a comprehensive analysis of imperial emissaries and their appointed tasks, see Liu Pak-yuen [Liao Boyuan] 廖伯源, Shizhe yu guanzhi yanbian: Qin-Han huangdi shizhe kaolun 使者與官制演變—秦漢皇帝使者考論 (Taipei: Wenchin, 2006). 11 Shi ji 118, pp. 3077-3078; Han shu 44, p. 2137 and p. 2141.

was to kill Han-assigned bureaucrats, including the Prime Minster and the Grand

Mentor in their courts.12

It is worth noting that not only Han-appointed bureaucrats but also some of subordinate rulers’ emissaries could be turned into the Han court’s informants. When suspecting the King of Wu (Emperor Wen’s uncle) of increasing disobedience, the imperial court detained and interrogated many emissaries from the Wu court until finally squeezing the anticipated information out of one emissary.13 Although contemporary records left us with no details about the functioning of the Han authority’s entire surveillance system in the subordinate states, those Han-assigned

Prime Ministers, Grand Mentors, and emissaries apparently played a part, providing the imperial court with intelligence that could later be used as excuses to persecute irreconcilable subordinate rulers.

Besides relying on existing imperial surveillance in the subordinate states,

Emperor Wen also gradually realized Jia Yi’s proposals that diminished subordinate kings’ capacity to stand as peers with the emperor. Among Jia Yi’s many proposals, one particular strategy might have contributed to determining the outcome of the warfare between Emperor Jing and the seven subordinate Han kings in 154 B.C.E.—a reshuffle of subordinate-state assignments based on the principle of kinship distance that reorganized the political landscape of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in favor of the Han court. This strategy took advantage of the existing kin-based alliance network to continue the discriminative process in the highest governing elite circle, utilizing close kin of the sitting emperor to exclude distant kin from the power-sharing

12 Shi ji 50, p. 1988; 106, p. 2827. 13 Shi ji 106, p. 2823.

circle.

The execution of this strategy was twofold. First, Emperor Wen ensured that the key subordinate states surrounding the imperial capital such as the Liang area were held by his own sons. This reshuffle of subordinate-state assignments placed Emperor

Wen and the heir apparent under the safeguard of direct male kin if any military threat emerged from farther east where Han authority had limited influence.14 Viewing the imperial capital in the northwest corner of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions as the center, the re-arranged political landscape interestingly mapped out the kinship distance between the heir apparent and subordinate Han kings. The subordinate states in the farthest east were controlled by the heir apparent’s uncles and nephews, while his brothers’ subordinate states were inserted in between.

Second, Emperor Wen reduced the state size governed by his brothers and nephews through distributing a subordinate state among multiple sons of a deceased king in the name of imperial favor. This method was of particular importance.

According to Jia Yi’s design, subordinate states should be systematically divided to the degree that all kin and affines in the imperial lineage received the “imperial favor” of holding a tiny amount of human and material resources.15 If carried into effect, the reduction of state size would greatly lessen subordinate kings’ financial base that sustained their current political status as peers to the emperor, thus weakening subordinate kings’ capacity to challenge the Han court. Emperor Wen had deployed Jia

Yi’s method to divide large subordinate states such as Qi and Huainan. The deceased

King of Qi’s state was distributed among seven sons, six of them being enfeoffed in

14 Han shu 48, pp. 2261-2263. 15 Han shu 48, p. 2237.

164 B.C.E. In the same year, the “rebel” King of Huainan’s state was divided into three.16 It is worth noting that this method further caused an unintended consequence that was advantageous to the Han court. The increase in the number of subordinate rulers complicated any cooperative efforts among them, reducing their prospect of successfully co-ordinating activities for one goal, such as contesting imperial attempts to centralize power in the hands of the emperor. This advantage to the Han authority was manifested in Emperor Jing’s warfare with seven “rebel” subordinate kings in 154

B.C.E. that will be discussed below.

(2) Empowered Bureaucrats, Enfeebled Subordinate Rulers

As his father had paved the way for cracking down on distant kin in the power- sharing circle, Emperor Jing was more willing to engage aggressive bureaucrats for further suppressing subordinate powers. Promoting a radical bureaucrat named Chao

Cuo as his assistant, the new emperor adopted more self-assertive measures than those proposed by Jia Yi to reduce subordinate kings’ financial base. Instead of waiting for the slow partition of a subordinate state through the transition from father to sons to grandsons, Chao Cuo 晁錯 advocated imperial confiscation of subordinate territories.

As Imperial Secretary, Chao Cuo actively sought faults in subordinate rulers’ behavior so that large portions of subordinate states could be legitimately forfeited to the imperial court.17 Such insulting degradation of peers provoked seven subordinate kings’ military alliance against the Han authority in 154 B.C.E.18

16 Shi ji 10, p. 426; 17, pp. 834-836; 52, p. 2005; 118, p. 3081. 17 Shi ji 101, p. 2747; 106, pp. 2824-2825. 18 Shi ji 106, p. 2827.

Emperor Wen’s execution of Jia Yi’s proposals doubtless increased the chance for his son Emperor Jing to win this warfare, gaining the momentum to expedite the pace of transferring political power from the coalition system to imperial bureaucracy. In the very beginning of the warfare in 154 B.C.E. the split-up of subordinate states already benefitted Han forces. As exhibited in the case of the multiple kings in the Qi area, more subordinate kings in number led to more diverse voices. Upon the outbreak of the war, the kings of the Qi failed to agree on whether it was expedient to militarily challenge the centralizing efforts of Emperor Jing and his aggressive assistant Chao

Cuo. A possible reason would be the kings’ different attitudes toward whether to comply with the conflation of male-kin network in the imperial lineage and political loyalty to Han authority. Only four kings in the Qi area joined allied subordinate forces against the emperor. The inability of the kings to act as one unit also meant their much reduced capability to mobilize human and material resources in the Qi area that used to be controlled by only one king. Even worse, the kings fought among themselves as supporters and protestors of the Han court.19 This internal dissension was one crucial factor that presaged the subordinate kings’ failure in the war.

Besides the strategy of division that reduced “rebel” subordinate rulers’ ability to mobilize mass resources and collaborate among themselves, the reshuffling of state- assignments based on kinship distance created another structural obstacle to subordinate kings’ military cooperation against the Han court. The layout of the reorganized political landscape itself sent out a clear political message that close kin were more trustworthy, hence increasing close kin’s willingness to continue their

19 Shi ji 52, p. 2006.

support for the imperial court. Such a message seemed to successfully fissure potential collaboration between close and distant kin of the emperor. None of Emperor Jing’s brothers joined the allied forces of “rebel”subordinate kings. In particular, the emperor’s brother from the same mother, the King of Liang, resolutely fought in the

Liang area and prevented the allied subordinate troops from proceeding westward to the imperial capital. This defense line gained time for the Han court to deploy troops to other places for counterattacks.20 Moveover, two talented generals leading the imperial forces, Zhou Yafu 周亞夫 and Dou Ying 竇嬰, were the emperor’s affines.21

Without the support from closer kin and affines, Emperor Jing could have lost the war.

The defeat of seven “rebel” subordinate kings signaled the end of a political mode based on egalitarian distribution of power. After struggling for five decades, the imperial court gained an unprecedented opportunity to drastically slash subordinate rulers’ resources and power, either confiscating or severely downsizing their states.

For example, the states of the “rebel” kings in the Qi and Zhao areas were abolished and turned into commanderies of the Han state.22 The King of Wu’s state was renamed as Jiangdu and reassigned to one son of Emperor Jing.23 Converting subordinate states into imperial commanderies meant that large amounts of resources in the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions were diverted to be administered by imperial bureaucracy, which only received subordinate rulers’ governing responsibilites but not their political status in the highest governing elite group.

20 Shi ji 58, p. 2082; 106, p. 2834. 21 Emperor Wen married a daughter to one of Zhou Yafu’s brothers. Dou Ying was one of Emperor Jing’s cousins. Shi ji 57, p. 2073; 107, p. 2839-2840. 22 Shi ji 5, p. 442; 17, p. 840; 50, p. 1990; 52, p. 2006; 106, p. 2836. 23 Shi ji 17, pp. 839-843; 106, p. 2836.

The process of dissociating subordinate rulers’ control of human and material resources from their political status did not stop at the moment when distant kin of

Emperor Jing were either eliminated or enfeebled. Suppressing close kin was the last step for the emperor to assume full control of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

As most subordinate states were forfeited to the Han state or reassigned to Emperor

Jing’s sons after the warfare of 154 B.C.E., the remaining wealthy subordinate state governed by the King of Liang, Emperor Jing’s brother of the same mother and critical supporter during the war, was next to be divided into small-size states.24 After the

King of Liang died, Emperor Jing divided the Liang area among five sons of the deceased king in the name of comforting their mother’s loss of a beloved son.25 Even the subordinate states of Emperor Jing’s own sons could be confiscated when they were incriminated or “established no heir 無後.” One example was Liu Rong, the

King of Linjiang and the former crown-prince. Liu Rong was accused of extending his palace into the land of the ancestral temple, and was tried by a highly stern prosecutor

Zhi Du. The king eventually committed suicide. Because he “established no heir,” his state was forfeited to the Han.26 The case of Liu Rong also demonstrated that backed up by the emperor, imperial bureaucrats gained tremendous power in prosecuting subordinate kings. Even the son of the emperor received no mercy.

24 According to Shi ji, upon the death of the King of Liang the amount of gold in his treasury weighed over four hundred thousand jin. This statement regarding the massive resources in the hands of the King of Liang may be verified by recent discoveries in Henan Province of tombs, which are identified as occupied by royalties of the subordinate Liang state. See Shi ji 58, p. 2087. For excavation findings of the mausoleum in Henan Province, see Henansheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo (eds.) 河南省文物考古硏究所编, Yongcheng xi Han Liang guo wangling yü qinyuan 永城西汉梁国王陵与寢园 (Zhengzhou: Zhongzhou guji chubanshe, 1996). 25 Shi ji 11, p. 446; 58, p. 2086. 26 Shi ji 59, p. 2094; 122, p. 3133.

When Emperor Wu ascended the throne in 141 B.C.E., he inherited a political landscape entirely different from that of 202 B.C.E. After decades of eliminating peer rulers, beginning with co-founders of the state and extending to distant kindreds of the sitting emperor, many areas in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions were now converted to Han commanderies administered by imperial bureaucracy. The lingering subordinate states were mostly held by Emperor Wu’s brothers. But compared to the state size in the beginning of the second century B.C.E., no subordinate state at this time was as large as the former Qi or Wu states. Furthermore, the imperial surveillance and control in the subordinate states was much expanded. After the warfare in 154

B.C.E., the Han court entirely took over the power to install bureaucrats of “two- thousand bushels” for “assisting” kings in their courts.27 This comprehensive imperial intervention into the highest level of subordinate governance in effect cut off subordinate kings from control over their own bureaucracies. The constant confiscation of subordinate states and the extension of imperial bureaucratic control into the remnant ones meant that the Han state gained tremendous ability to mobilize resources from greatly augmented Han commanderies, while subordinate rulers lost their capacity to initiate any challenge to the Han court.

The structural disintegration of subordinate powers was best evidenced in the final subordinate “revolt,” which occured in 123 B.C.E. While no real military expedition was ever launched from the subordinate side, the Kings of Huainan and

Hengshan, both distant kin of Emperor Wu, were accused of conspiring to carry out such action and thus persecuted. Without exception, their subordinate states were

27 Shi ji 59, p. 2104.

forfeited to become Han commanderies. But most intriguing in this “revolt” was that the said “preparation” for war against the Han court never materialized.

This never-materialized “revolt” might represent the last spark of subordinate resistance. The incident had its root in the greatly intensified persecution of subordinate kings, supported by the emperor and conducted by imperial bureaucracy.

Such persecution enabled mass transformation of subordinate states into Han- controlled commanderies. Since ascending to the throne, Emperor Wu’s court continued to expropriate subordinate states from already severely weakened subordinate powers using the same excuses as in his father’s reign—these kings’ improper behavior or lack of an heir. The sons of Emperor Jing’s deceased full brother were the first to be eliminated. Within less than ten years in the transitional period between the reigns of Emperors Jing and Wu, three of the five subordinate states in the

Liang area were turned into Han commanderies. Toward the end of Emperor Jing’s reign, one of the newly established five states in the Liang area was already taken by the Han because the King of Jiyin, a son of the deceased King of Liang, died with no male children. A few years later, in the third year of Emperor Wu’s reign (138 B.C.E.), imperial prosecutors proposed inflicting capital punishment on the King of Jichuan, another son of the deceased King of Liang, for killing an official in his own state.

Although the king was eventually not executed, he was deprived of his status as royalty, and his subordinate state was forfeited to the Han.28 In 136 B.C.E., Han bureaucracy seized two subordinate states because the kings “established no heir.”

One of the forfeited subordinate states originally belonged to yet another son of the

28 Shi ji 17, pp. 853-854; 58, p. 2088.

deceased King of Liang. The other was governed by a brother of Emperor Wu.29

As even subordinate states of Emperor Wu’s brothers were subject to confiscation, distant kin of the sitting emperor no longer had any place in the top governing elite circle. The subordinate states of two remnant distant kin, the Kings of Yan and Qi, were expropriated in the years of 128 and 127 B.C.E. respectively for lacking any heir—upon incrimination, both kings committed suicide and had no chance to establish an heir.30 An imperial bureaucrat named Zhufu Yan, who was promoted by

Emperor Wu for his highly pro-imperial stance, played a crucial role in the two kings’ death. Zhufu Yan reiterated and furthered Jia Yi’s proposals for weakening subordinate powers, stating that distant kin of the emperor should be removed from wealthy subordinate states and that the practice of enfeoffing all sons of a deceased subordinate ruler should be institutionalized. Backed by strong imperial support, Zhufu Yan was first entrusted with the prosecution of the King of Yan, and then assigned to be the minister of the Qi state, not for assisting the king but for finding faults in the king’s behavior for imperial prosecution.31

The unrealized subordinate “revolt” in 123 B.C.E. occurred in the aforementioned context. In particular, the lengthy narrative in Shi ji about the King of

Huainan’s never-ending “preparation” for challenging the Han authority well demonstrates the degree to which subordinate powers at this time were structurally enfeebled by imperial incursions. If we are to believe Shi ji’s portrayal of the King of

Huainan, he seems to be a highly indecisive person—the king had intended to take

29 Shi ji 17, pp. 851-852 and p. 855; 58, p. 2089. 30 Shi ji 17, pp. 858-859; 51, p. 1997; 52, p. 2008. 31 Shi ji 52, p. 2008; 112, pp. 2961-2962.

military action but always gave up because each time his major advisor lectured on

“the greatness of the Han” to discourage the king from military mobilization.32

Once we take a closer look at the subtle struggles between the Han court and the

King of Huainan, it becomes apparent that the king’s inactivity was more than a matter of personality. The King of Huainan was operating under extremely constrained conditions. Many options for contestation that used to be available to subordinate kings of the early second century B.C.E had been systematically removed by the Han court.

At least three phenomena prior to the said “revolt” of the Kings of Huainan and

Hengshan in 123 B.C.E. manifested the highly skewed balance of power between the

Han emperor and subordinate kings. First, after several cases of persecuting subordinate Han kings, “improper behavior” and “lack of heir” functioned together in the early reign of Emperor Wu as the standard excuses for confiscating part of subordinate states or eliminating subordinate succession lines. Arbitrarily defined, any information against subordinate families’s behavior attracted imperial inspection.

When incriminated subordinate kings died without establishing any heir, the Han court conveniently took over their subordinate states. Second, as evident in the case of the persecuted King of Qi, Emperor Wu bluntly inserted imperial prosecutors into these kings’ courts through his power of assigning higher officials to subordinate states. The sham of “assistance” was no longer necessary. Third, even if distant kin of the emperor attempted to resist imperial pressure through military means, finding enough allies became an insuperable challenge. All subordinate Han kings at this time controlled far

32 Shi ji 118, p. 3094.

fewer resources than their predecessors did. Moreover, many remnant subordinate kings were the brothers of the sitting emperor, and thus hardly ideal allies for collaboration.

One illustrative example is the first recorded contestation of the King of Huainan against the Han court, initiated by a personal grudge in 124 B.C.E. between the king’s crown prince and a king’s official named Lei Pi. Receiving Lei Pi’s complaint, imperial prosecutors took the opportunity to intervene into affairs of this subordinate state, investigating the crown prince’s questionable handling of this personal enmity.

The concerned king and queen of Huainan were reluctant to send their son to imperial prosecutors. According to the conspiracy depiction in Shi ji, they even planned to take military action if further pressured.33 Such reaction should come as no surprise, given the king and queen must have been fully aware of the aforementioned cases of the

Kings of Linjiang, Yan, and Qi—none came out of inquisition alive. All committed suicide either because of unbearable pressure from imperial prosecutors or because of capital punishment.

The request and refusal to send the crown prince of Huainan best illustrated the subtle struggles between imperial authority and the kings in controlling affairs in a subordinate state. Lower-ranking officials of the Huainan state did not deliver the crown prince to imperial prosecutors, presumably obeying the king’s demand. The

Minister of Huainan (assigned by the emperor) thus impeached the responsible official for disrespect of imperial orders, and declined the king’s petitions. If the King of

Huainan were to follow his predecessors, he could have opted to expel or even kill this

33 Shi ji 118, p. 3083.

minister that did not serve him but the emperor. Yet instead, the king chose to take bureaucratic measures, sending a emissary to the imperial court accusing his minister.

The king’s compliance with bureaucratic procedures got the king into trouble.

Taking the King of Huainan’s direct involvement as an opportunity, imperial prosecutors shifted their investigative focus to the king’s refusal of Lei Pi’s wish to join Han troops. Lei Pi volunteered to join the ranks in order to escape from the trouble with the crown prince of Huainan. At this point Emperor Wu had waged war against the Xiongnu for some years, and was desperately in need of more soldiers. The

King of Huainan’s actions were thus interpreted as attempts to impede imperial recruitment of talented fighters, which, according to imperial prosecutors’s proposal, merited a capital punishment. This severe punishment was eventually reduced to confiscating part of the king’s state. Interestingly, not only did the imperial emissary who delivered the decision treat confiscation as something worth congratulation, but the king also accepted it without protest.34 Viewing confiscation of subordinate lands as a “favor” would be unimaginable even among subordinate Han kings of the mid second century B.C.E.

Escalating personal feuds into imperial discovery of “treachery” proved to be a successful tactic that also contributed to the persecution of the “revolt” in 123 B.C.E.

Before the King of Huainan invited trouble in the Lei Pi case, imperial prosecutors had focused their attention on his brother, the King of Hengshan, for quite some time. In

129 B.C.E. the emperor took over the power of assigning officials in the Kingdom of

Hengshan from two-hundred bushels upwards using the same old excuse—the king’s

34 Shi ji 118, pp. 3083-3084.

many signs of improper behavior according to prosecutors’ reports.35 This meant that the King of Hengshan lost control of almost the entire bureaucracy in his own state.

Imperial prosecutors were handed a precious chance in 123 B.C.E. to incriminate the Kings of Huainan and Hengshan, initiated by internal disputes over succession lines within the two kings’ own households. The King of Hengshan wanted to change his heir, while the King of Huainan had no such intention. The unhappy parties sent to the emperor charges against the preferred heirs, hoping imperial intervention could influence the kings’ decision.36 Instead of interpreting charges such as plotting to murder Han-assigned officials or producing weapons as the two subordinate heirs’ personal activities, imperial prosecutors attributed these to two kings’ “treachery” against the Han authority. Extensive investigation gathered more “evidence” that not only backed up imperial claims, but also allowed prosecutors to expand the persecution to other kings such as the Kings of Jiangdu and Jiaodong.37 Tens of thousands were sentenced to death.38

It is noteworthy that any form of mililtary action from the subordinate side was completely absent in this “revolt.” Futhermore, the entire process was narrated in bureaucratic instead of military terms—the persecution and arrests were conducted by the Minister of Justice and the Minister of the Imperial Clan.39 Collected “testimonies” suggested that the king had prepared for military mobilization, attempted to murder

Han-assigned officials, conducted alliance negotiations with his brother, the King of

35 Shi ji 118, p. 3095. 36 Shi ji 118, p. 3088 and p. 3097. 37 The King of Jiangdu was Emperor Wu’s nephew, and the King of Jiaodong was Emperor Wu’s half brother. The King of Jiaodong was the only one that received highly lenient treatment, given imperial prosecutors report that he had produced weaponry as well. See Shi ji 59, p. 2096 and p. 2101. 38 Shi ji 30, p. 1424. 39 Shi ji 118, pp. 3093-3094.

Hengshan, and planned to seek asylum among the Viets if he failed, all resembling

“standard” evidence of treachery in the early and mid second century B.C.E. But in effect none of Han-assigned officials was murdered, the King of Hengshan did not provide any obvious assistance to his brother, and the King of Huainan did not run away to seek protection from Viet powers. Nonetheless, pressure from imperial prosecutors was so heightened that both kings committed suicide, and their families and followers were sentenced to death. Not a single action of resistance was recorded.40

The complete imperial victory suggested a strange self-renunciation on the subordinate side. How could a subordinate king who was said to have prepared for military mobilization for years simply opt for suicide without resistance? If we are to believe Shi ji’s depiction of conspiratorial conversations, the King of Huainan’s schemes only showed the sorry condition he was facing. One telling anecdote was when the king consulted his advisor about tactics. Although the king hoped that some subordinate rulers might participate in challenging the Han court once his troops headed toward the imperial capital, he was concerned about what to do if no one responded. Their conclusion was to escape into the Viets’ sphere of influence if things did not go well.41 The implication of this anecdote is twofold. First, they no longer considered foreign forces as a source of military assistance, though continuing to view foreign powers as potential alternatives for political protection. Second, unlike the last real warfare between the Han emperor and subordinate kings in 154 B.C.E., the King of Huainan and his advisor were unable to identify and establish secret contacts with

40 Shi ji 118, pp. 3084-3085, pp. 3092-3094, and p. 3097. 41 Shi ji 118, pp. 3092-3093 and p. 3097.

potential allies among remaining subordinate Han kings. Although imperial prosecutors claimed that the King of Huainan had some agreements with his brother, the King of Hengshan, no concerted activities of the two kings ever took place. Even if the King of Hengshan wanted to collaborate with his brother, it would be hard to surmise how much a king with almost no control of his bureaucracy could do.

Comparing the subordinate “revolts” of 154 B.C.E. and 123 B.C.E., it is clear that within three decades subordinate Han kings’ capacity to stand as peers of the emperor was severely undermined. Through differentiating close and distant royal kin and establishing direct connections with foreign powers, the emperor and his pro- imperial bureaucrats generated a sense of distrust among subordinate kings that restricted collaborative options against the Han court. In 154 B.C.E. it took orchestrated mobilization of multiple wealthy subordinate kings and allied Viets to reach a near-draw with the joint forces of Emperor Jing and pro-imperial subordinate kings. With much reduced resources and lack of control in the highest or even lower part of their own bureaucracy, subordinate Han kings of 123 B.C.E. simply had no chance to challenge the imperial power that had been much strengthened through constant transfer of resources in the subordinate states to be administered by imperial bureaucracy. As evident in the imperial persecution of the Kings of Huainan and

Hengshan, with the disproportionate resources at the disposal of the emperor and subordinate kings, bureaucratic measures would suffice for eliminating multiple subordinate powers. Military expeditions were no longer necessary for resolving confrontation over political power and resources in the highest political elite circle of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

The cultivation of and collaboration with pro-imperial bureaucrats was a crucial factor that contributed to imperial success in relieving subordinate Han kings from resources management. After the last spark of subordinate “revolt” was completely extinguished in 122 B.C.E., subordinate titles were merely honorific with such limited power and resources that the emperor could conveniently strip it from a title-holder without worrying about losing major administrators or provoking aggressive resistance.

Transforming subordinate rulers into mere figureheads would have taken longer to achive had three successive monarchs not actively promoted talented strategists and aggressive prosecutors like Jia Yi, Cao Cuo, Zhi Du 郅都, and Zhufu Yan 主父偃.

Except Jia Yi, whose contribution was mainly in designing a comprehensive blueprint for elevating imperial authority over other powers, the rest were all actively involved in imperial persecution of subordinate kings.42 By assisting the emperor in suppressing subordinate powers, these officials also gained tremendous personal influence in the highest political realm.

However, the political influence of those pro-imperial officials was entirely dependent on the support of their monarchs, and could be ephemeral at a time when

Han emperors remained worried about unpredictable political consequences for placing too much pressure on subordinate kings. Emperor Jing decapitated Cao Cuo to appease the subordinate kings in 154 B.C.E., and Zhi Du for comforting the upset

Empress Dowager Dou’s loss in 147 B.C.E. of a persecuted grandson, the King of

Linjiang.43 Emperor Wu sentenced Zhufu Yan and his family to death due to reports

42 Shi ji 52, p. 2008; 59, p. 2094; 101, p. 2747; 112, p. 2961; 122, p. 3133 43 Shi ji 101, p. 2747; 122, pp. 3133-3134.

from the King of Zhao about Zhufu Yan’s accepting bribes. The ending could be miserable for a sacrificed pro-imperial bureaucrat in the struggles between the emperor and subordinate kings. For instance, no one bothered to bury Zhufu Yan’s body until an obscure person volunteered for the task.44 Nonetheless, by the time of persecuting the Kings of Huainan and Hengshan in 123 B.C.E., imperial prosecutors were more aggressive than ever, but no longer suffered from any backlash produced by subordinate protests.45 Apparently subordinate kings had become too weak to cause imperial concerns.

Using pro-imperial bureaucrats against subordinate kings, three generations of emperors successfully separated subordinate titles from the hereditary control of resources. Administrative obligations were transferred to non-hereditary bureaucrats whose political power was dependent on imperial favor. Emperor Wu highly benefitted from the process. As the “revolt” of 123 B.C.E. implied, both submissive imperial bureaucrats and honorific subordinate rulers were unable to stand as peers who possessed enough resources to challenge the emperor. Instead, they competed among themselves for imperial favor in retaining or increasing their own political influences in the higher governing elite group.

This reconfigured political structure not only assured the monarch of the disappearance of peer political powers within the Han sphere of influence, but also gained a massive resources base encompassing the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions that imperial bureacracy could mobilize for grandiose projects. With unprecedented

44 Shi ji 52, p. 2008; 112, p. 2962. 45 For example, the prosecutor in chief, Gongsun Hong, continued his political career as Prime Minister without experiencing any trouble from subordinate protestation. See Shi ji 112, p. 2952-2953; 118, p. 3088.

options and resources in hand, Emperor Wu was determined to renegotiate the status of the Han state with foreign powers. This time the imperial scope was no longer confined to challenging the existing relationship between the Han and Xiongnu. The imperial court conducted a series of military and non-military activities that aggressively inserted the Han power into the political landscape beyond the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, forcing unfamiliar powers to recognize the presence of the Han state and reshaping interstate networks across multiple regions in East Eurasia in favor of Han authority.

Han Participation in Cosmopolitan Elite Circle of East Eurasia

The reign of Emperor Wu witnessed accelerated integration of multiple regions in the political landscape of East Eurasia. From the late second to the early first centuries

B.C.E., the Han state was transformed from a confined regional state to an expansive participant power that actively shaped interregional political networks. To facilitate and supply interstate activities in remote places, imperial bureaucracy also experienced rapid augmentation, creating several avenues that integrated people of diverse backgrounds into imperial projects.

This section first discusses the processes through which the imperial court constructed a Han-centered interstate network on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin in competition with the Xiongnu one. Instead of swaying between warfare against or heqin with the Xiongnu in negotiating their respective status, the Han state maximized its options by striking on a new path—coalition building in the broader political landscape of East Eurasia. In four decades, the imperial court aggressively made the

presence of the Han state felt by far-flung polities, inserting itself into the established interstate networks originally under Xiongnu influence. Through deploying multiple methods such as military intimidation, exchanges of royalties, and patron-client ties, an unstable but functional coalition dominated by the Han state came to co-exist with other peer coalitions in East Eurasia.

I then analyze the reciprocal relationships between expansive expenditure of the

Han state beyond the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions and the proliferation of state bureaucracy. An imperial-favor dependent bureaucracy provided the Han state with fundamental advantages in the competition of forming and maintaining a Han- centered interstate network in East Eurasia. On the one hand, unlike wealthy subordinate kings of the early second century B.C.E., the constituents of imperial bureaucracy lacked the capacity to switch allegiance en masse. When luring or forcing allies and lesser kings of the Xiongnu to turn to support the Han, the imperial court no longer worried about state representatives taking thousands of followers to join its rivals in interstate competition. On the other hand, the increased capability of the fast- developing bureaucracy in mobilizing human and material resources also meant the participation in imperial projects of a whole spectrum of ordinary subjects, ranging from opportunists seeking influence at state-level politics to reluctant subjects forced to shoulder the burdens of labor and taxation. While imperial bureaucracy served as an institution that intertwined various social groups and their resources with the state structure, over-extraction of resources for funding grandiose expansion also created a new type of political challengers within the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions— grassroot “revolts” against imperial authority.

(1) Signs of Departure from the “Two Masters” Model

As argued in Chapter 1, heqin activities of the Han state with the Xiongnu chanyu functioned both as a means for the two neighboring powers to recognize each other as the supreme representative of their respective regions and as a mechanism that restrained Xiongnu forces from intervening in the power struggles between the emperor and subordinate rulers in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. While negotiating status and spheres of power through communication channels generated by heqin activities, frequent contact between the Han and Xiongnu also provided unanticipated opportunities for the Han court to reassess its existing interactive strategies with this mighty peer on the steppe, leading to the search for new approaches besides war and heqin in dealing with the Xiongnu. Two experiments were relevant to our discussion. One was establishing the Han emperor as an alternative patron in the eyes of lesser Xiongnu kings near the Yellow River region. The other was opening the scope of the imperial court to the formerly unknown political landscape of

East Eurasia. Both were crucial for enabling the full-blown expansive projects of the

Han court from the late second to early first centuries B.C.E.

For most of the second century B.C.E. the Han state remained outside the interstate networks on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. While Xiongnu influence had been expanding into the Tarim Basin since the reign of Modu Chanyu, the Han court had struggled to secure its presence in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in the face of challenges from subordinate Han kings, demonstrated in the form of switching allegiance to or seeking alliance with the Xiongnu. The disconnectedness of the Han

court from the larger political landscape of East Eurasia was reflected in the lack of information in contemporary records regarding interstate activities beyond the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. Prior to late second century B.C.E. the focus of the imperial court was primarily on its interaction with immediate neighboring powers such as the Xiongnu near the Yellow River region and the Kingdom of Nanyue (South

Viet) near the Yangtze River region.

While the imperial court took measures to cripple subordinate kings’ capacity to seek support and protection from the Xiongnu, minor Xiongnu leaders seemed to reveal a burgeoning willingness, no matter how faint, to consider the Han court as an acceptable alternative of political alliance toward the late reign of Emperor Wen. The earliest recorded Xiongnu dignitaries who switched their allegiance were a few descendants of former Han client-rulers.46 A son (Han Tuidang 韓頹當) and a grandson (Han Ying 韓嬰) of Han Xin, the King of Han, took their followers to join the Han in 166 B.C.E. and were granted the marguis title in 164 B.C.E.47 Both were born after the King of Han turned to support the Xiongnu chanyu in 200 B.C.E. They were said to be the ministers of the Xiongnu, whose reason for turning to the Han was

46 The wife and an unknown number of sons of Lu Wan, the King of Yan who joined the Xiongnu right after the death of the first Han emperor in 195 B.C.E., returned to the imperial capital before the death of Empress Dowager Lü in 180 B.C.E. But there is no indication that Lu Wan’s other descendants and thousands of followers joined Lu Wan’s wife to switch back to the Han. This incident is best understood as the decision of a few individuals that did not carry much political significance. See Shi ji 93, p. 2639. 47 A proposal of Chao Cuo to Emperor Wen mentions some steppe groups called the Yiqu (義渠) that “surrendered” to the Han at the time. But unlike the two Xiongnu dignitaries who switched to the Han in 166 B.C.E., these steppe groups seemed unrelated to the governing elite circle of the Xiongnu, granting Chao Cuo’s proposal suggests that the Yiqu groups shared the same customs and skills with the Xiongnu. We are also left with no clue as to whether these steppe groups were independent or former followers of the Xiongnu. See Han shu 49, pp. 2282-2283. For an analysis of this proposal regarding the use of “surrendered” steppe groups for combats against the Xiongnu, see Di Cosmo (2002), pp. 202- 204.

unspecified.48 But 166 B.C.E. was the same year when Laoshang Chanyu, the successor of Modu Chanyu assisted by Zhonghang Yue, lauched an expedition on the

Ordos that reached quite close to the Han imperial capital.49 The two Xiongnu ministers who changed side could have been associated with this military conflict.

It is worth noting that these Xiongnu dignitaries who switched side were not idle lords of the Han state. Their “granted” title came along with an expectation of real service to the imperial court. One example was that, about a decade later, Han

Tuidang’s light cavalry contributed greatly in assisting Emperor Jing’s suppression of joint subordinate “revolt” in 154 B.C.E.50 His assistance in imperial combats could be considered the first recorded use of steppe dignitaries and their skills for advancing imperial interests. In this case, their service as light cavalry was used to suppress subordinate Han kings in the east, not Xiongnu forces in the north.

Another point to note is that, although granting the lord title could have been a reward to minor Xiongnu leaders who switched support during the military confrontation, this decision could also be viewed as Emperor Wen’s experiment on Jia

Yi’s “five baits” strategy that aimed at dissolving the support base of the Xiongnu chanyu. Being a fervent pro-imperial official, Jia Yi’s agenda was to elevate the emperor to supreme rulership by weakening all the peer powers in the known world— not only Han subordinate rulers but also the highest steppe leader.51 The essence of his

“five baits” strategy was to sway the allegiance of influential steppe figures through

48 Shi ji 19, pp. 1005-1006; 93, pp. 2635-2636. 49 Shi ji 10, pp. 428-429; 110, p. 2091. 50 Shi ji 57, p. 2076. 51 For an analysis of Jia Yi’s ideological zeal of “subduing” the Xiongnu, see Di Cosmo (2002), pp. 201- 202.

richer material lures and more imperial favor than those offered by the Xiongnu chanyu.52 However, if the emperor were testing Jia Yi’s “five baits” strategy by granting these Xiongnu dignitaries the lord title, this experiment obviously did not work. Xiongnu dignitaries’ transference of allegiance in 166 B.C.E was the first and last record in the reign of Emperor Wen. It was not until two decades later in 147

B.C.E. that records about the side-switching activities of Xiongnu notables appeared again during the reign of Junchen Chanyu.

While minor Xiongnu leaders’ shift to the Han could be caused by various unrecorded reasons, their action seemed to boost imperial pride and confidence, especially after the successful suppression of subordinate kings’ challenge against imperial authority in 154 B.C.E. In around 147 B.C.E., seven lesser Xiongnu kings switched their allegiance from Junchen Chanyu to Emepror Jing. Unlike the two

Xiongnu notables who changed side in 166 B.C.E., these Xiongnu dignitaries did not seem to possess any former clientage with the Han court.53 Two years later, the

Donghu King of Xiongnu (a descendant of Lu Wan, the King of Yan) also turned to join the Han.54 In all 8 cases, historical records were silent as to what caused these minor Xiongnu leaders to switch to the Han. But Emperor Jing apparently interpreted their change of allegiance as a compliment to Han authority and as an action worth further encouraging. Whether descedants of former Han client-rulers or not, Emperor

Jing granted all 8 Xiongnu notables the lord title. When facing his Prime Minister’s

52 See the “Xiongnu” chapter in Wang Zhouming 王洲明 and Xu Chao 徐超 (annotated), Jia Yi ji jiaozhu 賈誼集校注 (Beijing: Renmin wenxue, 1996), pp. 140-142; also in Fang Xiangdong 方向東 (annotated), Jia Yi ji huijiao jijie 賈誼集彙校集解 (Nanjing: Hehai daxue, 2000), pp. 168-169. 53 Shi ji 11, p. 445; 19, pp. 1018-1021. 54 Shi ji 19, p. 1021; 93, p. 2639.

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objection against rewarding those who “betrayed their master 背其主,” as one anecdote goes, the emperor made clear that he opted for urging more Xiongnu dignitaries to follow this example.55

Two constrasting attitudes were suggested in the aforementioned anecdote in defining the role of the Han state in the political landscape of East Eurasia. One insisted on consolidating the claimed sphere of power in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions, leaving neighboring regions to peer powers. The other revealed an expansive ambition for interfering into the political dynamics on the steppe. The former attitude was demonstrated in the Prime Minister’s objection against rewarding

Xiongnu notables who switched their allegiance to the Han. In the form of denouncing disloyal behavior, the Prime Minister in essence perceived the Han state as a confined regional power that interacted with neighboring polities but refrained from disturbing peer powers’ control of their respective regions. This attitude was in accordance with a goal that Emperor Jing’s predecessors had attempted to achieve—settling a north- south divide of power spheres in the east side of Eurasia with a built-in recognition that the Xiongnu chanyu was the “master” of all lesser powers in the northern sphere.

On the other hand, the later attitude was represented by Emperor Jing’s interest in reorienting minor Xiongnu leaders’ allegiance to the Han. This attitude pushed a step further from that of his predecessors and Prime Minister. Rather than adhering to the

“two masters” model, Emperor Jing voiced confidence in replacing the Xiongnu chanyu as the new “master” of minor steppe leaders without losing his own power base in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, as the post-154 B.C.E. imperial

55 Shi ji 57, p. 2078.

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encroachment of the subordinate states reduced the potential damage in human resources that a top Han governing elite could cause through switching their allegiance to foreign rulers.

(2) Transformation from a Regional State to a Trans-regional Power

Steppe notable who changed to support the emperor were crucial agents that wove the Han state into interstate dynamics in the larger political landscape of East

Eurasia. Emperor Wu, the successor of Emperor Jing, took to an entirely different level the use of these Xiongnu dignitaries in the Han court and of allegiance re- orientation to build Han influence on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin in five decades.

Right at the beginning of his reign, the young emperor already took advantage of

“surrendered” Xiongnu clients for assisting in devising new strategies to deal with the

Xiongnu. Besides their military skills, these lesser steppe leaders were valuable informants who supplied the Han court with knowledge about steppe politics and suggestions for status re-negotiation that were previously unthought of.

As the imperial court had been struggling for decades between heqin and war, the

Xiongnu informants offered the third route—seeking alliances with major steppe powers, such as the Yuezhi, that resented Xiongnu dominance. Their knowledge and new strategy broadened the scope of the Han court, leading to the dispatching of a emissary team of over a hundred participants led by Zhang Qian 張騫 to establish contact with other steppe powers.56 The Xiongnu informants in a sense offered the means that initiated the transformation of the Han from a confined regional state to a

56 Shi ji 123, p. 3157 and p. 3159.

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trans-regional power, a newly manifested goal since the later reign of Emperor Jing that continued into the reign of Emperor Wu.

While the scope of the Han court was recast from immediate neighboring powers to polities in the far-flung lands, in the early reign of Emperor Wu the imperial state had absolutely no physical or relational infrastructure for alliance building in a sphere of power originally claimed by the Xiongnu chanyu. The difficulty caused by a lack of infrastructure was evident in Zhang Qian’s failed mission that cost thirteen years with a loss of the entire emissary team and no results. Contrary to the Xiongnu, which had been a major player in the cross-regional interstate networks on the steppe and in the

Tarim Basin, the Han was an obscure newcomer to the polities beyond the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions. Steppe powers had no obvious reason to collaborate with an unfamiliar state that had no history in playing any role in their established interstate networks. Furthermore, the failure of Zhang Qian’s mission was in a sense unavoidable when his team had to travel across Xiongnu-controlled areas where the

Han state had no facilities to provide enhanced protection. The total travel time of

Zhang Qian took thirteen years not because of physical distance but because the emissary team was detained by the Xiongnu for more than ten years. Zhang Qian managed to return to the Han only with his Xiongnu wife and his assistant of steppe background.57

While sending Zhang Qian’s team off on the road to test the new method— alliance building in the unknown land, the decades-old question remained on the table as to whether the Han state should continue heqin activities with or opt for war against

57 Shi ji 123, pp. 3157-3159.

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the Xiongnu. Given that the Xiongnu chanyu had revealed a high interest in maintaining the negotiated balance with the Han along the southern edge of the steppe since the beginning of his reign,58 Emperor Wu was eager to re-assess the capability of the re-structured state in militarily redefining the Han-Xiongnu relationship. Using the

Xiongnu’s renewal request of heqin as an opportunity, the young emperor stirred up two rounds of court debates about reverting to war. The process of the two-round debates manifested the emperor’s zeal in entirely moving away from the “two masters” model and taking the expansionist approach regardless of the opposing opinions in the imperial court.

Similar to the Prime Minister of Emperor Jing, in the beginning of Emperor Wu’s reign court officials seemed reluctant to disturb the established equilibrium with the

Xiongnu and preferred to stick to the role of a confined regional power. Such reluctance was obvious in the first round of court debate in 135 B.C.E. The pro-war persepective was represented by a militant official named Wang Hui 王恢, who intended to orient the debate by focusing on an unobtainable ideal of absolute peace in order to paint heqin activities as futile, thereby justifying his argument for resorting to military means. The hidden assumption was that military subjugation of the Xiongnu was the only effective method to eliminate all forms of disputes. In other words, co- existence with peer powers was the source of trouble. The proposed solution, identical in logic with what the Han court had been doing to subordinate states in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, was to establish through violence an unambiguously hierarchized order dominated by the Han emperor and no one else in the known world.

58 Shi ji 110, p. 2904.

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Rather than falling into this trap that linked the effectiveness of heqin to absolute peace, Han Anguo 韓安國, the Imperial Secretary of the time, supported the continuation of heqin by arguing from a different perspective—the sphere of the

Xiongnu had never been viewed as land for conquest since ancient times and should be left as it was. That was to say, the Han should not intrude into the realm of steppe powers but stay within the claimed sphere of power in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. Court officials agreed with the Imperial Secretary. This time the emperor respected the majority opinion.59

Court officials’ preference was another indication that peace-keeping in absolute terms was not the function expected of heqin activities but an excuse for expansionists to declare war. First of all, the majority decision of the first-round debate demonstrated that at least among contemporary court officials heqin activities were not such an unpopular mechanism as the rhetorics of Han emperors and expansionists wanted us to believe. Moreover, the intimate connection between supporting heqin and taking an anti-expansionist stance implied that the fundamental function of heqin activities was about negotiating confined power spheres with neighboring polities and creating a bond for obligating the involved parties to observe mutual agreements. Viewed from this perspective, sporadic conflicts along the southern edge of the steppe became a non-issue. The point was not whether conflicts occurred, but whether the Han court possessed communicative means to prevent random disputes from escalating into the breakdown of negotiated power spheres. As generations of Xiongnu chanyu never showed any sign of perceiving the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions as potential land

59 Shi ji 108, p. 2861.

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for conquest and occupation, heqin activities could be considered effective in this regard and thus worth continuing.

But only one year later the same question was raised again by the same militant official. This time Wang Hui submitted a concrete plot for how to attack the Xiongnu with minimal cost. The detailed record in Han shu makes clearer that the real struggle in the debates was between expansionism and anti-expansionism. In the second round of court debate Emperor Wu no longer hid his intention but started the discussion with a fixed premise: heqin activities never fully stopped conflicts (i.e. achieved absolute peace) and thus war was preferred.60 Wang Hui further substantiated the plausibility of military success with his confidence in the prowess of the re-organized Han state that controlled much more human and material resources than ever. This confidence was not fanciful when, as discussed above, the ongoing imperial confiscation of resources from the subordinate states went unobstructed. In his optimistic opinion, only a tiny portion of the resources currently controlled by the imperial government would be enough to destroy the Xiongnu might.61

As the emperor’s “opening inquiry” already sided with Wang Hui’s militant stance, the Imperial Secretary was literally fighting a losing game. To render war- waging unnecessary and harmful, Han Anguo mentioned potential problems ranging from upsetting ordinary subjects’ routine life to fighting unsustainable wars against historically unaffiliated peoples in remote lands.62 These concerns suggested that Han

Anguo understood Wang Hui’s proposal as an initiative for invasive warfares deep into

60 Han shu 6, p. 162; 52, p. 2399. 61 Han shu 52, pp. 2401-2402. 62 Han shu 52, pp. 2399-2403. For a detailed analysis of the two-round debates with a specific focus on military aspects, see Di Cosmo (2002), pp. 210-215.

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the steppe that would lead to costly mobilization of human and material resources.

Although his foresight was proven correct by decades of military expeditions that followed, in this court debate such an assumption exposed a severe weakness in his argument. Wang Hui seized this weakness and counterargued that his plan was to ensnare the forces of the Xiongnu chanyu near the southern edge of the steppe instead of dispatching troops deep into the steppe. The emperor immediately followed up and concluded the debate with the decision to carry out Wang Hui’s proposed ambush scheme.

What was really surprising in the outcome of the ambush was the Xiongnu chanyu’s willingness in continuing routine interaction even after the Han emperor revealed a straightforward hostility that indicated imperial willingness to sabotage the decades-long balance between the Han and the Xiongnu. The emperor was said to have mobilized an enormous force of over 300,000 soldiers for this scheme. But the ambush did not work out as planned. A captured low-ranking Han official from a watchtower informed Junchen Chanyu of the plot, and the chanyu retreated immediately. No direct confrontation between the chanyu’s and the emperor’s forces occurred. Wang Hui shouldered the responsibility of failure in initiating any real military engagement by committing suicide.63 The Xiongnu chanyu would doubtlessly be offended, but in the following four years the Han court did not seem to suffer from any serious repercussion in provoking antagonism. Any consequences must have appeared so insignificant that Han historians did not bother paying attention. In the

“Basic Annals of Emperor Wu”of Han shu there is no recorded massive Han

63 Another record suggests that Wang Hui was beheaded. See Shi ji 108, pp. 2861-2863; 110, p. 2905.

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confrontation with Xiongnu forces along the southern edge of the steppe in the first decade until the emperor launched a large-scale expedition in 129 B.C.E., opening up total war against the Xiongnu in the subsequent decades.64

Contemporary historical records explain away the pedestrian reaction of Junchen

Chanyu to the failed ambush in 133 B.C.E. as a sign that “the Xiongnu is avaricious

匈奴貪” in desiring the wealth and goods of the Han that were accessible through trading activities along the southern edge of the steppe.65 While the chanyu could have been such a caring ruler as to prefer undisturbed functioning of mundane trading activities among ordinary subjects that probably had little to do with the highest governing elites on both the Han and Xiongnu sides, there is no reason to believe that the self-flattering explanation in Han texts was the only factor for the moderation of the Xiongnu. Other unrecorded factors could have also convinced Junchen Chanyu not to deploy aggressive violence in response to the unconcealed enmity of the Han court.

But given the silence of Han texts in this regard, we may never have a chance to know these “other” factors that made the Xiongnu chanyu refrain from escalating such an insult into a large-scale confrontation in the Yellow River region.

Regardless of the minimal repercussions, the failed ambush of 133 B.C.E. signaled Emperor Wu’s commitment to unreserved intervention into the power sphere of the Xiongnu. The fragile balance eventually collapsed when the emperor dispatched troops in 129 B.C.E. to attack steppe peoples in trading sites along the southern edge of the steppe, leading to intensive state-level conflicts that stretched from the Ordos to

64 Han shu 6, pp. 155-164. 65 Shi ji 110, p. 2905.

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the gulf of the Yellow Sea for more than ten successive years. During this first stage of massive military confrontation from 129 B.C.E. to around 117 B.C.E. before a six- year truce, both sides enjoyed some transient successes at the price of great losses in resources due to massive killing and capturing of each other’s soldiers, ordinary subjects, and livestock. In the Han case, battlefield deaths of soldiers and horses alone were said to amount to hundreds of thousands. Even when the Han re-occupied the

Ordos steppe upon which the Qin used to encroach, it also lost control in some areas toward the eastern side of the steppe near Shanggu Commandery.

It is noteworthy that, unlike the Han court, the Xiongnu did not seem to care too much about securing a permanent territorial presence in the southern edge of the steppe. Instead, losses of human and animal resources probably piled more pressure on the Xiongnu chanyu than anything else. For instance, Izhixie Chanyu, the younger brother and successor of Junchen Chanyu, did not dislike the idea of moving deep into the steppe for the purpose of forcing Han troops to travel a longer distance northward to engage in a military assault. In contrast, this same chanyu threatened to persecute lesser steppe kings in the west for having tens of thousands people killed and captured by Han troops. This intimidation prompted an unprecedented switch of allegiance to the Han, led by the King of Kunye in 121 B.C.E. who took about 50,000 followers to join the Han.66

While the imperial court celebrated the achievement of gaining the allegiance of lesser steppe kings and their followers by calling them “adherents of righteousness 歸

66 Shi ji 20, p. 1059; 30, p. 1422; 110, pp. 2906-2911.

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義,” which implied foreign admiration of Han power,67 we should consider other potential meanings of this phenomenon in the context of the larger political landscape in East Eurasia in which the Han state had just begun to participate. Similar to his father, from 131 B.C.E. to 113 B.C.E. Emperor Wu granted the lord title to 17

Xiongnu dignitaries who “surrendered” to the Han, a method to claim to be the new

“master” of these lesser steppe leaders. Except for the first and the last cases, all 15

“surrendered” Xiongnu notables received their rewarded title in between 129 B.C.E. and 117 B.C.E., the first stage of military confrontation between the Han and the

Xiongnu. Among them 11 had no registered causes for such a decision, but could have been closely linked to capitulation on the battlefield.68

A striking record is that the heir apparent of the deceased Junchen Chanyu was one of these 17 “surrendered” Xiongnu dignitaries. In this case the cause of his switch in allegiance was provided in Han texts. Junchen Chanyu passed away after three years of intensive military confrontation with the Han from 129 B.C.E. Then a problem occurred in the succession. The younger brother of the deceased chanyu attacked the heir apparent and became the new leader, Izhixie Chanyu. The heir apparent sought asylum in the Han and died in a few months.69 The need for using violence to settle succssion issues could have suggested some level of discord among

Xiongnu governing elites due to three years of military pressure from the Han. But was the Han, a state that only recently turned hostile toward the Xiongnu, so influential in shaking steppe politics?

67 For some examples of using this term, see Shi ji 20, p. 1040 and p. 1044. 68 Shi ji 20, pp. 1027-1029 and pp. 1031-1032 and pp 1039-1047. 69 Shi ji 20, p. 1031; 110, p. 2907.

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Signs of discord on the steppe dated far back if we recall the 10 Xiongnu notables who turned to the Han since the transitional period between the reigns of Laoshang

Chanyu and Junchen Chanyu (from the later reign of Emperor Wen throughout the reign of Emperor Jing). Except for 3 who either died for unrecorded reasons or were persecuted by the Han within five years, the rest of these Xiongnu dignitaries and their heirs continued to serve the Han court at least until their lord titles were removed in the early reign of Emperor Wu.70

Nonetheless, Xiongnu dignitaries’ change of allegiance and adherence to the Han did not necessarily imply that the chanyu’s support base was severely damaged because of millitary challenges or material lures from the Han, unless we assume that before the late reign of Laoshang Chanyu no dissidents existed on the steppe. The rhetoric of Han officials such as Reng Chang about a “cornered 困” Xiongnu leadership should be doubted if we look at the outcomes of 7 recorded Xiongnu notables who turned to the Han from 131 B.C.E. to 122 B.C.E. Among these Xiongnu dignitaries who received the lord title, 2 died in one year with no recorded reason

(including the heir apparent of Junchen Chanyu who only survived a few months), and

2 “surrendered” Xiongnu ministers were persecuted by the Han in three years due to their attempted “escape.” Yet another “surrendered” Xiongnu minister switched back to assist the chanyu during a Han-Xiongnu combat in 123 B.C.E.71 Although the remaining few did remain serving the imperial court, this picture does not project impressive Han success in attracting and retaining the support of minor Xiongnu

70 Shi ji 19, pp. 1005-1006 and pp. 1018-1021. 71 Shi ji 20, pp. 1027-1029 and pp. 1031-1032 and p. 1039; 110, p. 2911.

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leaders.

Even when in 121 B.C.E. the aforementioned King of Kunye took an unprecedented number of followers to join the Han, the direct cause was not any Han lure but steppe politics—Yizhixie Chanyu threatened to persecute the lesser steppe kings in the west for human and animal losses.72 Such a situation was reminiscent of interactions between the first Han emperor and client-kings near the steppe in the early second century B.C.E., although the reasons for inflicting persecution were different.

This change of allegiance did not seem to hurt the chanyu’s support base too much.

Even at the moment when the King of Kunye and a Han general were completing the

“surrender” deal, quite a few of the king’s followers rejected such a decision. It is said that the Han general immidiately killed 8,000 of “those who attempted to escape 欲亡

者” from the site.73 The refusal of these followers to continue supporting the King of

Kunye, indicated by the action of their attempted leaving, implied that they did not share the same pressure as the King of Kunye from Yizhiye Chanyu’s threat of persecution and thus had no interest in being subordinate to Han authority. But they were placed in an unfortunate situation in which their withdrawal of support to the

King of Kunye provoked immediate massacre. Unless opting for death or revolting against their leader right away, the coercion left the King of Kunye’s followers with no better option on the site than giving way to the king’s decision.

Other traits also implied that the Xiongnu chanyu maintained a reasonably solid governing elite circle. Even after Yizhixie Chanyu sufferred a disastrous battlefield

72 Shi ji 110, p. 2909; 111, p. 2933. 73 Shi ji 111, p. 2933.

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defeat, no lesser steppe kings exploited the situation to challenge his authority.

Another indication was that, in between 121 B.C.E. and 107 B.C.E. only four politically significant Xiongnu notables turned to the Han and were awarded the lord title, among whom one died within one year.74 Taking into account the six-year truce between the two powers from around 117 B.C.E. to 111 B.C.E. that eliminated the chance of any battlefield surrender, this record refutes the image of a severely damaged Xiongnu that would be “cornered” by the Han.

A more plausible explanation would be simple. The Han court gained more detailed and nuanced information than ever about political dynamics on the steppe.

With some Xiongnu dissidents opting for the Han emperor as their new protector, the imperial court gained not only well-trained warriors to fight battles on the steppe but also informants that allowed keener detection of the Han court about power struggles among governing elites on the steppe. Besides Xiongnu dissidents, a long-established source of information was exchange of emissaries. The Han emepror and the Xiongnu chanyu never fully discontinued sending emissaries to each other’s court while the

Han court kept refusing to restore heqin activities. Even during the years of military confrontation, emissaries remained despatched to, though frequently detained by, the other side.75 Consequently, the growth of imperial knowledge about problems on the steppe could have been the result of broadened information sources instead of a weakened and troubled Xiongnu chanyu.

Rather than the self-important rhetoric of Han capability to corner the “recently defeated 新破” Xiongnu as suggested by Han officials, the sure achievement in

74 Shi ji 20, pp. 1045-1047; 110, p. 2910; 111, pp. 2935-2936. 75 Shi ji 110, p. 2911 and p. 2913

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resorting to expansionist approaches was the elevation of the Han emperor to the status of a true peer “master” in comparison with the Xiongnu chanyu. Although the

“two masters” rhetoric had been invoked between the Han and Xiongnu rulers since the early second century B.C.E., up until the time of Emperor Wen the status of the

Han emperor was essentially, as Jia Yi indignantly pointed out, “being a subordinate ruler [submitted to] the Rong (i.e. barbaric) people. 為戎人諸侯.”76 This understanding was in a sense affirmed by almost non-existent records about Xiongnu dignitaries’ switch of allegiance to the Han by the mid reign of Emperor Jing, an implication that the Han emperor had not yet been perceived as a worthy alternative protector in the eyes of those steppe leaders who for whatever reasons needed to avoid the reach of the Xiongnu chanyu. The options available to steppe dissidents would have included migrating to remote places, like the case of the Yuezhi, or seeking protection from other powers that the Han court did not know and thus never recorded.77 What the post-154 B.C.E. re-organized Han state demonstrated were its growing potentials in rivaling, not subjugating, the Xiongnu might. This newly emerged power from the Yellow River region merely offered an additional choice to

Xiongnu dissidents who needed a place to go.

The presence of these Xiongnu notables in the imperial court contributed to transform the Han state into a trans-regional power capable of exerting influences on steppe politics. Their choice in allegiance turned the Han court into a vigorous centrifugal force that lured lesser steppe leaders away from the chanyu, a similar role

76 Han shu 48, p. 2241. 77 Shi ji 123, p. 3157 and pp. 3161-3162.

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that Modu Chanyu had played in loosening the bonds between the first Han emperor and his client-kings near the steppe in early second century B.C.E. Furthermore, the knowledge and skills of these Xiongnu dignitaries and their followers increased Han capability in military maneuvers in a formerly unfamiliar environment. It was not enough for the Han court to have only one Zhang Qian who, because of his decade- long steppe experience, “knew the locations of water and grass so that the troops were not deficient [of supplies]. 知水草處，軍得以不乏.”78 Granting that textual evidence is absent, it is surmisable that these Xiongnu dignitaries could have served to orient

Han troops on the steppe. Their recorded service was fighting against the Xiongnu forces. A few “adherents of righteousness” even built up military merits to a level that earned the lord title.79 Without various types of service provided by steppe populations that advanced imperial initiatives, the Han court would have had great difficulties realizing Emperor Wu’s attempts to generate impact beyond the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions.

Most impotantly, by integrating “surrendered” steppe population into the expanding Han sphere of power on the Ordos, the imperial court entirely voided unambiguous territorial and lifestyle demarcations that former Han emperors had desperately pursued through heqin negotiations. The best example was inviting the

“surrendered” King of Kunye and his followers into the area of the Yellow River loop as “affiliated states 屬國.” These recent steppe recruits were stationed as buffer forces to the south of the Yellow River along the newly claimed areas on the Ordos steppe,

78 Shi ji 111, p. 2929; 123, p. 3167. 79 Shi ji 20, p. 1040 and p. 1044.

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where state-forced Han immigrants from the eastern Yellow River region were also present. The deployment of both populations to the northwestern side of the Ordos enabled a shielded zone for the establishment of Han bureaucratic operations into the corridor to the west of the Yellow River loop, or Hexi Corridor, increasing the possibility of connecting the Yellow River region to the Tarim Basin.80 Abandoning attempts to divide through long walls and lifestyle those who wore “hat and girdle” and those who “drew the bow,” the outward-looking Han state became a driving force in mixing social groups of varied geographic backgrounds for the purpose of enhancing territorial presence of imperial authority on the Ordos steppe.

(3) Establishing a Han-centered Interstate Network in East Eurasia

While more than a decade of military confrontation reduced the distance of status hierarchy between the Han emperor and the Xiongnu chanyu, it also opened up a new opportunity for the Han court to challenge Xiongnu influence on another front— interstate networks in the Tarim Basin and beyond, where the Xiongnu chanyu had been a dominant participant. As Xiongnu forces withdrew their presence from the northwestern side of the Ordos steppe, an obvious difference was that, in Zhang Qian’s second mission to establish contact with distant states, the Han emissary team travelled unobstructed to the Wusun 烏孫 court, a steppe power to the west of the

Xiongnu that seemed to have exerted substantial influence in interstate politics.

Another change was that, contrary to the first mission, this time Zhang Qian and his team members managed to get representatives of various states in the Tarim Basin and

80 Shi ji 30, p. 1425; 110, p. 2909; 111, p. 2934 and p. 2945; 123, p. 3167 and p. 3170.

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beyond to pay a visit to the Han, a sign of interest in this polity of the Yellow River region. After the King of Kunye “surrendered” in 121 B.C.E., the Han court further extended its bureaucratic operations into the Hexi Corridor to facilitate imperial intrusion into an unknown political web. Infrastructural support guaranteed that waves of Han emissaries could be sent on the road without suffering fatal losses similar to

Zhang Qian’s first mission. It is said that the emissary teams were dispatched as frequently as five to more than ten each year. Large teams comprised hundreds of emissaries while small ones a hundred or so.81

But entering an unknown political web was complicated, especially when the purpose of the Han court was not to initiate friendly interstate contact but to use polities in the Tarim Basin to further reduce Xiongnu influence in East Eurasia. Steppe powers and oasis-states in the Tarim Basin had negotiated for decades their status hierarchy based on different levels of influence that each polity exerted in the established cross-regional interstate web. Unlike dealing with Xiongnu forces, which were organized under one supreme leader, the Han court was confronted in the Tarim

Basin not only with peoples of distinct languages and cultures but also multiple independent rulers. For instance, while the Xiongnu seemed to be the most influential power in the two regions, they did not directly command the political actions of the

Wusun king. When the Xiongnu chanyu received the news that the Han and the Wusun were in contact, it had to invoke military threats in order to sway the Wusun ruler’s decision. Rather than satisfying Xiongnu expectation, the Wusun king resorted to the idea of forging marriage alliance with the Han that was originally proposed by Zhang

81 Shi ji 123, pp. 3168-3170.

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Qian.82 Given their asymmetrical status, the polities in the Tarim Basin were integrated in a Xiongnu-centered interstate network but did not take direct commands from the

Xiongnu regarding foreign alliances. The Han intrusion into the Tarim Basin was intended to exploit such unpredictibility in political behavior due to the absence of direct command structure among peer powers.

To carve out its niche among multiple steppe powers and oasis-states in the Tarim

Basin, the Han court deployed diverse approaches in order to maximize its capacity to exert more influence than that of the Xiongnu in the shortest time possible. While cementing marriage alliance with the Wusun, the Han court also used military threats to coerce reluctant oasis-states into cooperation, which took the form of hostage- taking.

Han military intimidation in the Tarim Basin served two purposes. First of all, successful attacks demonstrated Han ability to extend its military might far beyond the

Yellow River region, forcing polities in the Tarim Basin to take this newcomer seriously. Rulers of steppe powers and oasis-states could have heard of the decade- long military confrontation between the Han and the Xiongnu along the southern edge of the steppe. But the rivalry near the Yellow River region did not necessarily translate into an impression that the Han could exert a similar level of military pressure in the

Tarim Basin. Furthermore, Han emissaries to the Tarim Basin behaved badly in their diplomatic contact with foreign elites, generating a negative impression among foreign rulers about the Han state. Both factors disqualified the Han in the eyes of foreign elites in the Tarim Basin to be a worthy alternative to the Xiongnu. The disrespect

82 Shi ji 123, pp. 3169-3170.

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caused by the poor performance of Han emissaries was demonstrated in foreign polities’ refusal to provision Han diplomatic missions. Some oasis-states such as

Loulan 樓蘭 (later renamed Shanshan 鄯善) or Gushi 姑師 even obstructed trips of

Han emissaries. The Han court took this problem as an opportunity to display its capability to extend military force into the Tarim Basin. Both Loulan and Gushi were attacked, and the Loulan king was captured.83

This earliest military operation in the Tarim Basin takes us to the second purpose of intimidation—using short-term military attacks at selected targets to coerce other powers into sustainable long-term interstate relations, i.e., alliance with the Han.

Granting that the Han court opted to deploy violence to elevate its status in the Tarim

Basin, it could not afford to assault every single polity. Focused attacks on a particular target not only increased chances of success in a remote land, but also generated intense pressure on the rest of the polities. This approach proved effective through four years of Han expeditions against Dayuan 大宛, which was known for breeding high- quality horses. Although attacking Loulan and Gushi did showcase the Han’s military pressure into the Tarim Basin, it was not until the four-year expeditions against

Dayuan from 104 B.C.E. that steppe powers and oasis-states were fully intimidated by the Han capability to carry out intensive military operations deep westward into the

Tarim Basin for a lengthy period, while opening another round of military confrontation against Xiongnu forces on the steppe after the six-year truce. This change in attitude toward the Han presence was evidenced in polities alone the expedition routes that were forced firstly into provisioning Han troops and secondly

83 Shi ji 123, p. 3171.

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into sending royal children to the Han as hostages. A few oasis-states that still refused to provision Han troops were either entirely wiped out, such as the case of Luntou 侖

頭, or had its king killed, such as Yucheng 郁成.84

From 100 B.C.E. onward, the Han state fully established its status as an aggressive expansionist power in the political landscape of East Eurasia capable of exerting influence on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. The Han court integrated itself into the trans-regional interstate network through marriage alliance, hostage- taking, and war-waging in far-flung areas. It is worth reiterating that the main purpose for the Han to interact with polities in the Tarim Basin was to reduce Xiongnu influence. The coerced alliances with the Han were essentially to reorient those polities support, cutting off allies from the Xiongnu and building an alternative interstate network centered on the Han.

But the emergence of a Han-centered interstate network did not necessarily mean the disappearance of the Xiongnu-centered one. An ironic situation was generated by the presence of two expansionist powers capable of projecting similar levels of influence in the Tarim Basin. Steppe powers and oasis-states were forced to join simultaneously in two competing interstate networks, one centered on the Xiongnu and the other on the Han. To the Han and the Xiongnu, sharing an ally represented an intensified competition. Even in the Tarim Basin the Xiongnu were confronted by this rival from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions that kept corroding the foundations of its existing alliances. As sites of competition for alliance, polities in the Tarim Basin that allied with both expansionist powers also experienced new dynamics in their

84 Shi ji 111, p. 2915; 123, pp. 3175-3178.

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respective waxing and waning of influences in interstate politics.

The cases of Loulan and the Wusun are good examples. Allying with two influential powers in East Eurasia did not seem to provide a weak state such as Loulan with any advantage, but invited a much greater burden in fulfilling obligations to both the Han and the Xiongnu. As Loulan was coerced into collaboration with the Han by military attacks, the Xiongnu also waged war against Loulan to reassert its influence over this former ally. Caught between two powers, Loulan ended up offering each a prince-hostage as a token of alliance. Furthermore, Loulan had to provide service to both the Han and the Xiongnu such as spying on the other power, even though attempts to please both sides ended up by annoying both. The miserable fate of Loulan continued until two prince-hostages subsequently died in the Han, and the king refused to send a third prince-hostage during the reign of Emperor Zhao, the successor to

Emperor Wu. Using this refusal as an excuse, the imperial court sent an assassin to murder the Loulan king in 77 B.C.E., and established as his successor the king’s brother who took advantage of Han support to usurp authority.85

On the contrary, a strong power could benefit from the competition between the

Han and the Xiongnu over forging alliances in the larger political landscape of East

Eurasia. The Wusun were probably the greatest beneficiary. While Emperor Wu terminated heqin activities with the Xiongnu throughout his reign, the element of marriage alliance in the heqin package continued to serve as a useful means for the

Han to connect with other peer powers. Having been a strong steppe power in the west end of the Tarim Basin, the Wusun were identified by Zhang Qian as a potential ally

85 Han shu 96a, pp. 3876-3878.

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that could collaborate with the Han to squeeze the Xiongnu. In order to achieve this goal, the Han court was willing to offer a princess-wife to the Wusun king.86 This action seemed to cause the Xiongnu’s anxiety. The first time the Han imperial court sent a princess to the Wusun for a marriage alliance, the Xiongnu reacted by also sending a princess to the Wusun.87 Possessing princess-wives from both the Han and the Xiongnu, the Wusun became the “kin” of two major powers in a quickly intergrated trans-regional interstate web.

As the Han court kept building its influence in the Tarim Basin, the Wusun also got to extend its sphere of power through siding with the Han. The key lied in the offspring of the Wusun king and the Han princess, who were either married to an allied power in the Tarim Basin or installed by the Han to govern an oasis-state.88 Not only the Han but also the Wusun benefitted from the distribution of their royal children as a means to intrude into the governing elite circle of other polities. But the

Wusun sphere of power did not reach its apogee until 71 B.C.E., when an allied expedition of the Wusun and the Han was organized against the Xiongnu.

The Wusun’s playing off the Han against the Xiongnu contributed to its rise when both expansionist powers were severely weakened by their four decades of extensive competition against each other on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin.89 The Wusun

86 Shi ji 123, pp. 3168-3170 and p. 3172; Han shu 94a, p. 3773. The phrase “forming marriage [alliances]” 結婚 is explicitly to describe the alliance between the Han and the Wusun. See Han shu 61, p. 2693. 87 Shi ji 123, p. 3172 88 For example, a son of Princess Jieyou 解憂公主 was installed to govern a oasis-state Shache. Also, a daughter was married to the Qiuci king. Han shu 96a, p. 3897; 96b, p. 3904 and p. 3916. 89 For a general discussion of how and why both the Han and the Xiongnu were weakened due to their long-time competition, see Liao Po-yuan (Liu Pakyuen) 廖伯源, “Lun Han ting yu Xiongnu guanxi zhi caiwu wenti 論漢廷與匈奴關係之財務問題.” In Zhongguo wenhua yangjiusuo xuebao 中國文化研究所學報 48 (2008): pp. 1-13.

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alone remained unable to fully rival either the Xiongnu or the Han, even when both powers were depleted in the early first century B.C.E. As will be discussed in next chapter, the era after Emperor Wu was a time during which the exhausted Han was relatively conservative about military maneuvers beyond the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions. It was the Han princess who was married to the Wusun king that drew the Han into the confrontation between the Xiongnu and the Wusun on the steppe.90

Besides seizing huge amount of resources from the Xiongnu during the allied expedition, the Wusun continued to attack the Xiongnu with occasional assistance from Han forces.91 Granting that the Wusun did not manage to take over the Xiongnu sphere of power on the steppe, the effective exploitation of marriage alliances elevated the Wusun to the status of the third major power in the trans-regional interstate web of

East Eurasia for a short period of time.

90 Han shu 8, p. 243; 70, p. 3003; 94, p. 2785; 96b, p. 3905. 91 Han shu 70, p. 3004; 94a, p. 3787.

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Chapter Three:

Maintaining a Cosmopolitan Empire in East Eurasia

As argued in the previous two chapters, since the beginning of Han rule, its state structure, particularly at the level of higher governing elites, had gone through substantial changes that made possible imperial intrusion into inter-polity networks in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia. From 200 B.C.E. onward, generations of

Han emperors both established contact with the Xiongnu chanyu and reconfigured membership of the imperial governing elite circle. Their goal was to eliminate peer competitors for political power and increase Han control of resources in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. In its first century of existence, the Han court restrained

Xiongnu influence in political dynamics of the Yellow River region, redirected managerial power of the Han state to be distributed mainly among non-hereditary bureaucrats, and started integrating steppe elites and populations into the imperial regime, who supplied the imperial court with crucial skills and knowledge for expansive strategies on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin.

This and the following chapters analyze continuing changes in Han state structure since around the first century B.C.E. in response to imperial expansion and the elevated status of the Han emperor in the larger political realm of East Eurasia.

Confronted with diverse polities and peoples in disparate environmental settings across a vast landscape, the imperial court further relied on the writing-based bureaucratic system as the core mechanism to streamline a political world of ever-

124 growing complexity and to sustain other mechanisms for imperial power-building. As will be discussed in the two chapters, the workings of Han bureaucracy per se served a simplifying function in intertwining various groups and resources with state structure.

First, individuals of different social and geographical backgrounds were recruited to staff a seemingly straightforwardly ranked organization, forming a crucial support base of imperial power that was easier for the Han emperor to comprehend and control.

Second, bureaucrats were the key mediators who converted complicated social groups and material resources into simple written information that could be circulated and managed within the imperial communication network. Third, those who were drawn into the state structure through various mechanisms did not merely comply with imperial demands for service and resources, but mustered all the means at their disposal to negotiate through the bureaucratic system their own socio-political conditions and advantages in the Han-constructed political network.

In this chapter, the first part analyzes the proliferation of state bureaucracy, which was driven by heightened imperial military and diplomatic activities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin throughout the long reign of Emperor Wu. As Han competition with the Xiongnu over power-building kept mounting in East Eurasia, warfare had been the preferred power-building strategy. For sustaining long-distance warfare, Han bureaucracy was hastily elaborated and extended to assist in assembling and circulating large amounts of resources and information across distant regions.

Aggressive state mobilization for warfare and alliance formation necessitated both active and passive participation in imperial projects of a whole spectrum of individuals and social groups, ranging from opportunists seeking influence at state-level politics to

125 reluctant subjects forced to shoulder the burdens of labor and taxation.

The second part focuses on Han attempts to retool priorities of its power-building strategies after the reign of Emperor Wu for enhancing the imperial presence in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia without exhausting state-controlled resources.

As evident in the reign of Emperor Wu, over-reliance on long-distance warfare for amplifying Han influence unintentionally generated new challengers to imperial power across East Eurasia. The expanded bureaucratic capability in amassing and circulating resources for funding warfare simultaneously intensified imperial competition with local communities of all strata over control of human, animal, and material resources, provoking both ordinary subjects and foreign groups to take extreme measures in resisting imperial extraction. In order to minimize challenges from all fronts, the imperial court of Emperor Wu’s successors lowered the chance of inflicting military action through maximizing advantages created by the extended bureaucratic network in the Hexi Corridor and the established Han-centered alliance in the Tarim Basin.

With reduced pressure from the imperial court for resources, diverse participants in the expanding state structure were more willing to remain in the Han-constructed network, negotiating through the imperial bureaucratic system their socio-political places, relations, and expectations in the political landscape of East Eurasia.

Social Background—(Mis-) Handling a Complex World

While elevating the Han emperor as a top competitor against the Xiongnu chanyu in the larger political landscape of East Asia during the reign of Emperor Wu, the imperial court also faced new challenges that further modified the state structure. As

126 the Han court had sought to intrude in the political realm beyond the Yellow and

Yangtze River regions since around 130 B.C.E., non-hereditary officials undertook new duties besides assisting the emperor in taking over hereditary kings’ managerial power. Emperor Wu charged bureaucrats with handling financial and infrastructural needs prompted by military and diplomatic operations on the steppe and in the Tarim

Basin. People of various backgrounds were recruited into the imperial bureaucracy to raise funds for the power-building policies of the emperor, to prosecute reluctant participants in imperial initiatives, and to staff troops, emissary teams, and newly established commanderies. While some aggressive officials benefitted from promoting imperial authority, not many ordinary subjects, foreign affiliates, and bureaucrats responded with enthusiasm to heightened state intervention in local life, especially economic activities formerly uncontrolled by imperial authorities.

Struggles over control of resources between the imperial state and local communities across East Eurasia took two forms. On the one hand, writing-based administrative technology allowed the state to locate and punish uncooperative individuals and groups, forcing them to surrender resources to imperial demands. On the other hand, when troubles inflicted by imperial authorities outweighed benefits experienced by those who conformed to state demands, presumed providers of resources resorted to violent resistance in order to break off from the Han-constructed system. In the following, we will first discuss how this vicious circle of incessant resource extraction for imperial power-building was initiated during the reign of

Emperor Wu.

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(1) Financial and Resource Burdens of Imperial Power-building

Through warfare and alliance-building on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, the

Han presence was strongly felt by polities beyond the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. But all social groups in the Han-controlled area paid a huge price, including human, animal, and material resources, to allow the imperial state to link up with larger political networks in East Eurasia. Resources formerly managed by the Han bureaucracy were quickly exhausted, forcing the imperial court to keep reorganizing the state structure in order to accumulate more resources at a faster rate for funding warfare on all sides of the state. This section illustrates the scale of the fiscal and resource burdens created by imperial power-building on the steppe and in the Tarim

Basin that made state-initiated changes in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions unavoidable.

Let us begin with the alliance-building of the Han state in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia. As discussed in the previous chapter, Emperor Wu attempted the new strategy of locating allies on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin to reduce Xiongnu influence, an idea proposed by “surrendered” Xiongnu individuals.

However, identifying potential politico-military allies in unknown lands was in itself a costly investment with highly unpredictable results. While we do not know much about the first trip of Zhang Qian’s emissary team into the Tarim Basin in around 135

B.C.E. other than a loss of over a hundred members in thirteen years, in the second trip his team of three hundred emissaries, each with two horses, led cattle and goats by the tens of thousands and precious gifts worth several billions. Later emissary teams of

128 the Han state were said to have been equipped with a similar scale of material gifts.1

The imperial court was operating under the assumption that such material gifts would increase the willingness of foreign states to participate in Han maneuvers. To impress foreign guests who followed Han emissaries back to visit the imperial capital,

Emperor Wu showered them with luxuries. Before the four-year expedition against

Dayuan begun in 104 B.C.E., Emperor Wu sent an emissary team that carried a huge amount of gold and a golden horse to request Dayuan’s high-quality horses. While no records register whether this anticipated gift exchange was ever considered reasonable in the commercial context of Dayuan, the initial refusal of the Dayuan King suggests that Han gifts did not match the economic value of demanded horses. Or, at least one could say that imperial assumptions over-estimated the political weight of Han gifts among polities in the Tarim Basin. The Han emissaries further failed in the mission due to their improper rhetoric and an arrogant attitude that offended the governing elites of Dayuan. The diplomatic mishandling by the unsophisticated Han emissaries cost their own lives, as the humiliated Dayuan nobility ordered them to be murdered on their way back to the Han. In the meantime, this Han diplomatic failure gave

Emperor Wu the excuse to resort to a military expedition into the Tarim Basin that ended with taking away more than 3,000 of Dayuan’s quality horses.2

Although the Dayuan case suggests that warfare was the fastest way for the Han court to intimidate formerly unfamiliar polities into cooperating with imperial policies for power-building in East Eurasia, this approach required much more resource investment that directly affected all social groups than gift-based networking that

1 Shi ji 123, pp. 3168-3170, p. 3173-3175, and p. 3177. 2 Shi ji 30, p. 1439; 110, p. 2911; 123, p. 3170, and pp. 3173-3174.

129 involved mainly governing elites. Tremendous amount of human, animal, and material resources were necessary not only for military engagement beyond the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions, but also for post-combat expenses that transformed fleeting battlefield outcomes into long-term imperial advantages. Both types of resource investments are discussed below.

Given the startling death toll of soldiers and horses even in battles near the

Yellow River region on the steppe, the Han court had faced a challenge to maintain a massive armed force since as early as the first decade of the Han-Xiongnu warfare between 129 and 119 B.C.E. Although the numerical figures of military gains and losses recorded in Shiji may not be precise, the information remains useful to gauge the scale of battlefield damage to the Han state. Earlier Han attempts to contest the

Xiongnu might in East Eurasia occurred mainly near the Yellow River region. In the first military engagement in 129 B.C.E., Emperor Wu sent 40,000 cavalry to attack foreigners along the frontier markets. This state-level declaration of enmity against the

Xiongnu led to a loss of thousands of Han cavalry on the steppe.3 In the following three years, the imperial court mobilized tens of thousands of troops to launch another two major assaults, provoking Xiongnu retaliation against Han frontier commanderies along the southern edge of the steppe that caused two governors to be killed, commandery troops to be defeated, and thousands of locals to be captured or killed by

Xiongnu forces.4

3 The troops led by General Gongsun Ao reported a loss of 7,000 cavalry. General Li Guang’s 10,000 cavalry were defeated with no numerical report of human losses. General Li was captured by the Xiongnu, but managed to escape back to the Han. Shi ji 22, pp. 1135-1136; 108, p. 2864; 109, pp. 2870- 2871; 110, p.2906; 111, p. 2923. 4 Shi ji 22, p. 1136; 108, p. 2864; 109, p. 2871; 110, pp. 2906-2907; 111, pp. 2923-2924.

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The Han state later increased the size of its army in order to push troops farther into the steppe to launch surprise attacks, for Xiongnu forces did not anticipate Han military maneuver beyond the southern edge of the steppe. However, the increased troop mobility on the steppe was paid for with a much higher rate of losses. As we do not have numerical figures for logistical losses in these long-distance expeditions, only human and animal losses for steppe warfare are discussed here. Within only four years in between 124 B.C.E. and 119 B.C.E., the losses of Han soldiers amounted to tens of thousands.5 During this period, not only did Emperor Wu launch expeditions against the Xiongnu almost every year, but the scale of military mobilization also expanded sharply comparing to the years before 124 B.C.E. The celebrated Han defeat in 124

B.C.E. of the Worthy King of the Right involved over 100,000 troops.6 The next year troops of similar scale were sent into the steppe again. But this expedition ended with a loss of over 3,000 cavalry and the surrender of a general, who was a former lesser king of the Xiongnu.7 Another celebrated Han expedition in 119 B.C.E. that defeated the Xiongnu chanyu’s forces was made possible by the much augmented army size.

The imperial court dispatched 100,000 cavalrymen, hundreds of thousands of infantry, and 140,000 horses, allowing the troops to travel more than 1,000 li into the steppe with sufficient provisions. Nonetheless, this military success also led to a loss of over

110,000 horses, that is to say, about 78% of the horses were lost in this particular expedition. With such a massive scale of mobilization in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions, Han troops remained incapable of doing anything more than attack-

5 Shi ji 30, p. 1422; 110, p. 2911 6 Shi ji 22, pp. 1136-1137; 30, p. 1422; 110, p. 2907; 111, p. 2925. 7 Shi ji 22, p. 1137; 110, pp. 2907-2908; 111, p. 2927.

131 and-withdrawal, showing their limited ability to fight steppe warfare for longer distances and time. Even in a winning battle, the combined time for Han troops’ major combat operations on the steppe never seemed to last for more than two days.8

Furthermore, as noted in Shiji, after 119 B.C.E. the Han state stopped lauching warfare against the Xiongnu for more than a decade, as mobilizable horses were mostly exhausted at this point.9 All Han expeditions in between 119 B.C.E. and 104 B.C.E. were waterborne and thus did not require a large amount of horses.10

It is noteworthy that the fiscal and resource consequences of steppe warfare went far beyond battlefield losses of soldiers and horses. Logistical preparation required concentrating unrecorded amounts of human, animal, and material resources from across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to the southern edge of the steppe. As we do not have explicit details about the logistics involved in each battle, it is difficult to discuss this stage of resource investment for war in any quantified sense. However, we have records to analyze post-combat expenses, which were also indispensible in order for the Han state to turn ephemeral battlefield success into long-term benefits for imperial power-building in East Eurasia.

First of all, by lavishly rewarding victorious generals, officers, and soldiers, the emperor both encouraged their continued service in future expeditions, and vaunted imperial achievements through ceremonial praise in edicts. In other words, state- controlled economic resources as post-combat rewards enhanced the military and

8 Shi ji 22, p. 1138; 109, p. 2875; 110, p. 2910; 111, pp. 2934-2935 and p. 2938. 9 Shi ji 110, p. 2911; 111, p. 2940. 10 The focus of war-making of the Han shifted to its far northeast frontier in the Liao River region and its south frontier in the Yangtze River and Pearl River regions. For information about waterborne battles in these frontier zones, see Shi ji 113, pp. 2974-2976; 114, pp. 2982-2983; 115, pp. 2987-2988.

132 ideological bases of imperial power-building. In just the first decade of Han-Xiongnu warfare, Emperor Wu granted 200,000 jin of gold to those who killed and captured enemies. Moreover, 19 generals and officers were granted the title of lord with material rewards in the form of household taxation from designated counties. The amount of income given to these newly minted lords ranged from a few hundred to several thousand households. Emperor Wu demonstrated his extra favor to Wei Qing

衛青, his brother-in-law and General-in-Chief of steppe warfare, by further establishing Wei Qing’s three baby boys as lords, each with a revenue-income of 1,300 households.11

Second, it was also necessary to reward material wealth to “surrendered” lesser leaders of the Xiongnu for securing their allegiance and service to the Han emperor.

As discussed in the previous chapter, following the precedents established by his father, up until 119 B.C.E. Emperor Wu had bestowed the title of lord on 16

“surrendered” ministers and lesser kings of the Xiongnu, all financially supported by county-income.12 Among the 16 lords of steppe origin, those who made major military contributions to Han attacks against the Xiongnu received additional revenue- income.13 Furthermore, some “adherents of righteousness,” who formerly received no noble title from the imperial court, were promoted to be Han lords for their battlefield

11 See Shi ji 20, pp. 1029-1045; 30, p. 1422; 49, p. 1980 and p. 1983; 111, pp. 2923-2926, pp. 2928- 2933, pp. 2936-2937, and pp. 2941-2945. 12 Shi ji 20, pp. 1027-1046. 13 Two cases are recorded. One is Lord of Xi (翕侯), former minister of the Xiongnu. He later switched back to the Xiongnu and became a trusted advisor of the chanyu. The other is Lord of Changwu (昌武侯), former lesser king of the Xiongnu. Other “surrendered” Xiongnu leaders were likely to fight for the Han but for unknown reasons did not receive further rewards recorded in Shiji. For instance, a “surrendered” Xiongnu minister who was named Lord of Xiangcheng (襄城侯) in 131 B.C.E. died on the battlefield in 103 B.C.E. One can surmise that he had been participating in warfare against the Xiongnu but left no record other than his receiving of a Han noble title and his death on the battlefield. See Shi ji 20, pp. 1027-1028 and pp. 1031-1032; 110, p. 2908; 111, p. 2927.

133 achievements. Their awarded income could be over a thousand households.14

But the largest economic investment of the Han state for securing the allegiance of “surrendered” foreign leaders must have been the case of the King of Kunye and his over 40,000 followers in 121 B.C.E. Partly to display the imperial achievement in attracting massive numbers of steppe allies, the Han court mobilized 20,000 carriages to escort the king and his followers to the imperial capital. To reward the king’s switch of allegiance, Emperor Wu attached an income of 10,000 households to his noble title.

Four other subordinate steppe leaders were also granted the title of lord, presumably all with income. In addition, Han generals, offices, and solders involved in this incident also received generous economic grants. The total monetary expenses for celebrating the event were said to be several tens of billions.15

Third, besides encouraging both victorious Han military personnel and

“surrendered” steppe groups to assist in imperial power-building, Emperor Wu further sought to prolong combat achievements through the territorial marking of the Han presence in the vacated areas on the northwest Ordos steppe and the Hexi Corridor during the first decade of Han-Xiongnu warfare. However, tremendous investment was necessary for both relocating populations into these areas and constructing fortified settlements. Take the northwest corner of the Yellow River loop as one example. Despite opposition from most court officials who were concerned about fiscal consequences of a long-term presence in this area of the Ordos steppe, after the

14 Four such cases are recorded: Lords of Yiguan (宜冠侯), Huiqu (煇渠侯), Zhuang (壯侯), and Zhongli (衆利侯). See Shi ji 20, pp. 1039-1040 and p. 1044; 111, p. 2931 and p. 2937. 15 Shi ji makes clear that imperial edicts generally exaggerate numbers for embellishing military achievements. In this case, Emperor Wu claimed that 100,000 steppe people “surrendered,” while Sima Qian stated explicitly that the real number was about 40,000. See Shi ji 20, pp. 1041-1043; 30, p. 1424; 110, p. 2909; 111, p. 2933; 120, p. 3109.

134 warfare against the Xiongnu in 127 B.C.E. Emperor Wu turned it into a Han commandery as suggested by Zhufu Yan, the aggressive pro-imperial official who prosecuted the King of Yan and Qi mentioned in the previous chapter.16

Following this decision were waves of state-organized mass emigration to occupy and guard this newly established Shuofang Commandery and neighboring areas in the

Yellow River loop. At the earliest stage, over 100,000 people were moved in to build the commandery city and to repair enclaves constructed during the Qin conquest in

214 B.C.E. In the meantime, officials and commoners stationed in this new commandery became a vulnerable target of Xiongnu retaliation. In order to further populate the newly occupied area for a stronger Han presence on the Ordos steppe, after the King of Kunye joined the Han in 121 B.C.E. more than 700,000 impoverished people on the eastern side of the Yellow River region were transplanted here. Later the “surrendered” King of Kunye and his followers were also divided into five affiliated states to be deployed in the northwest side of the Yellow River loop. All these activities were paid for by state revenues. While we do not have numerical figures about logistics for escorting migrants from as far as the east side of the Yellow

River region to the northwest corner of the Ordos steppe, the migration size per se implied massive resource investment by the Han state in securing a long-term imperial presence in the area.17

Since magnifying Han influence in the greater political landscape of East Eurasia

16 Shi ji 20, p. 1029; 22, p. 1136; 30, p. 1421; 110, p. 2906; 111, p. 2950 and pp. 2961-2962. 17 Shi ji 6, p. 253; 15, pp. 757-758; 30, pp. 1421-1422 and pp. 1424-1425; 88, pp. 2565-2566; 110, p. 2886, pp. 2906-2907 and p. 2909; 111, p. 2923 and pp. 2933-2934; 112, pp. 2961-2962; 116, p. 2995; 120, p. 3109; 123, p. 3167. Han shu registers a number of 725,000 impoverished individuals that were transplated to the frontier zones in the state-organized migration after 121 B.C.E. Han shu 6, p. 178.

135 required so much investment of human, animal, and material resources, imperial bureaucracy went through several changes to satisfy these needs. These changes are analyzed in the following section.

(2) Resource Re-allocation for Funding Imperial Power-building Activities

While generations of emperors spent decades from around 200 B.C.E. to shift subordinate kings’ administrative power under imperial control, the Han court seemed loathed, mostly due to its incapacity, to attempt the extraction of local resources until the reign of Emperor Wu. This is not to say that the Han court of the early second century B.C.E. did not try to control resource flows. Excavated fragments of early Han ordinances attest to imperial attempts to regulate the movement of some strategically- important material and animal resources such as gold (for rewarding political allies), copper (for coinage), iron (for producing weapons), and horses (for military action).

Nonetheless, the geographic scope for resource control seemed quite limited in these ordinances. The focus was mainly on preventing horses and certain types of metal from flowing outside the northwest corner of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the area under direct imperial administration.18

Later examples in Shiji suggest that in the reigns of Emperors Wen and Jin, there was no centralized state system for resource extraction and distribution across the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. The Han court at the time doubtlessly exerted almost no influence on resource extraction and redistribution managed by subordinate

18 See the “Ordinances on Fords and Passes 津關令” of the Zhangjiashan documents in Ernian lüling yu zouyanshu, pp. 307-310 and pp. 315-325. For a detailed analysis regarding the political significance of gold, copper, iron, and horses in the early Han, see Yang Jian 杨建, Xi Han chuqi jinguan zhidu yanjiu 西汉初期津关制度研究 (Shanghai, Shanghai guji, 2010), pp. 127-152.

136 kings. For this reason, it was the imperial seizure of rich copper ores and sea salt in the

Wu state that caused the direct clash between Emperor Jing and the King of Wu, which led to the warfare of 154 B.C.E. In imperial confiscations of subordinate kings’ commanderies, the Wu state forfeited both Yuzhang Commandery 豫章郡 in which copper ores were located and Guiji Commandery 會稽郡 near the sea.19 Considering the profitable resources in the two commanderies, it should be no surprise that the

King of Wu decided to militarily resist imperial undercutting of the most crucial economic foundations for his political power.

But even in Han-controlled commanderies and counties, not all resources seemed to be under centralized imperial administration. Thus copper was identified almost since the beginning of the Han as a strategically-important material that should be under imperial surveillance, but until the early reign of Emperor Wu it was left to be circulated around its sites of extraction. The evidence is that even after the warfare of

154 B.C.E., the minting of coins continued to be operated, both legally and illegally, in localities with access to copper.20 In other words, both mining and minting activities were retained at the local level. No ruler attempted to concentrate mined copper or melt coins in the imperial capital or a few state-designated sites to be minted into new coins for redistribution.

Grain provides another example. Unlike horses and some jealously guarded types of metal, grain was a less strategically-important material in the early Han that seemed to be circulated through market mechanisms without much state intervention. Two

19 Shi ji 106, p. 2822 and p. 2825. 20 Shi ji 30, p. 1425; Han shu 24b, pp. 1153-1156.

137 extant records of imperial negotiation with grain owners suggest limited state control over this resource. Interestingly, both cases were associated with food supplies for enhancing the Han presence at the northern frontiers. When grain above the taxed amount was needed for this imperial project, the Han court had to use government- issued ranks and remission for punishments to bargain with local grain-owners. In the first case, Emperor Wen used ranks for encouraging voluntary contribution and delivery of grain to provision troops stationed along the southern edge of the steppe.

The respondents were more likely to be grain owners in Han-controlled areas, as subjects of powerful subordinate kings at the time did not necessarily desire a Han rank that had limited or no use beyond places under direct imperial control. The second recorded case was in the reign of Emperor Jing. The imperial court granted remission to the accused in exchange for non-state-controlled grain for drought relief in the northwest frontier commanderies in the Ordos area.21

The rank/remission-for-grain negotiations were essentially about state intrusion, albeit in a subtle fashion, into market mechanisms to compete against rival purchasers for resource control. This form of exchange was based primarily on the proposal of

Chao Cuo that politicized grain and demonized merchants (major extractors and circulators of grain other than the government). Using the generic rhetoric of supporting farmers and suppressing merchants, both Jia Yi and Chao Cuo articulated in their respective proposals to Emperor Wen the intimate connection between grain and state projects such as frontier warfare and disaster relief. This linkage assigned political significance to grain for building both imperial power and prestige.

21 Shi ji 30, p. 1419.

138

Furthermore, Chao Cuo’s long proposal justified state intervention into grain allocation and redistribution by stereotyping the relationship between merchants and farmers as between the economic exploiter and the exploited. He then argued that the imperial government should use his recommended exchange method to “benefit 利” ordinary subjects—issuing ranks and remissions as compensation for collecting non- state-controlled grain. In the ideal situation that Chao Cuo portrayed, the rank/remission-for-grain exchange between the state and wealthy merchants would allow poor, exploited farmers to earn cash from grain collectors or to enjoy reduced state taxes.22

Given the lofty words, in practice the imperial government, not the supposedly exploited farmers, was the first and foremost beneficiary in this form of exchange. The entire process shifted non-state-controlled grain under state administration without following market principles for commodity transaction. The key difference lay in the immateriality of ranks and remissions. Chao Cuo explicated the nature of using ranks as a medium of exchange that greatly benefitted the Han government: “Ranks are monopolized by Your Majesty. [They are] issued through [your] uttered words and thus will never be exhausted. 爵者，上之所擅，出於口而亡窮.”23 That is to say, the emperor could bypass material requirements embedded in conventional market exchange by offering intangible compensation that the Han court was able to produce easily and endlessly, thus maximizing imperial “purchasing power.” The same logic applied to granting remissions to the accused, who had got into difficulties with

22 Han shu 24a, pp. 1128-1134. 23 Han shu 24a, p. 1134.

139 government-determined regulations.

This format of grain negotiation was fundamentally a game in which the Han court defined all the rules, consequently situating itself in the most advantageous position. But at least in the early Han local grain owners found such a deal attractive enough for them to join the game. The exchange worked so well for the Han court to provision frontier troops that it was extended to further encourage grain contributions to the imperial government.24 This ingenious method of grain reallocation presaged more militant imperial approaches to extracting non-state-controlled resources for imperial projects during the reign of Emperor Wu.

Imperial demands for resources skyrocketed in the reign of Emperor Wu, generating initiatives by the Han court to aggressively centralize control over strategically-important resources. As analyzed in the previous section, by 123 B.C.E. imperial revenues were already exhausted in warfare to the extent that the government began to have trouble supporting its armies. Even worse, the seemingly successful

Han battle against the Xiongnu chanyu in 119 B.C.E. was followed by government incapacity to properly pay soldiers their salaries due to the severe drain on resources under imperial command.25 Worrying that imperial power-building activities depleted state-controlled resources and disrupted ordinary subjects’ lives, court officials and scholars opposed the ongoing warfare and related economic expenditures.26 However, instead of withdrawing from power-building in East Eurasia to alleviate economic

24 Han shu 24a, p. 1135. 25 Shi ji 30, p. 1422 and p. 1428. 26 Officials and scholars who expressed opposition opinions included Han Anguo 韓安國, Gongsun Hong 公孫弘, Ji An 汲黯, and Di Shan 狄山. They were all silenced or chastised by Emperor Wu and pro-war officials in various forms. See Shi ji 108, p. 2864; 112, p. 2950; 120, pp. 3108-3110; and 122, p. 3141.

140 pressure, Emperor Wu opted for expanding the imperial fiscal base across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. To achieve this goal, the bureaucratic machinery was reshaped to increase the imperial capability to seize non-state-controlled resources, especially those in the hands of nobles, powerful local families, and wealthy merchants.

Bureaucratic re-structuring was the prologue for imperial intrusion into non-state- controlled resources. While resembling trial and error, the ad hoc changes in bureaucratic functioning formed a politico-economic process that created cooperative agents with different forms of expertise to assist in the imperial suppression of contenders for resources during the reign of Emperor Wu. This process was made possible mainly by taking more relaxed and flexible approaches to bureaucratic promotion and recruitment. Broadening his human resource base, Emperor Wu assembled collaborators from more diverse social backgrounds than did his forefathers to devise and execute strategies for funding military and diplomatic activities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin.

This process heightened in two ways the imperial capability to alter resource allocation within and between state and non-state agencies in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions. First, with a larger candidate pool for government offices, the Han court was able to intensify the imperial control over bureaucratic activities. Through weeding out reluctant officials and installing cooperative ones, the emperor ensured that the massive bureaucratic machine behaved in accordance with imperial interests in securing control of regional resources for expansion. Second, the diverse expertise offered by bureaucratic collaborators allowed the imperial court to intrude into

141 formerly untapped resources and crushed uncooperative resource-holders.

Roughly around the time of full-scale military confrontation with the Xiongnu in

129 B.C.E., Emperor Wu also started the parallel process of transforming the imperial bureaucracy into a more effective extractor of regional resources. Its prelude was the widening of official recruitment that allowed the re-composition of the imperial bureaucracy at all levels. As several scholars have observed, the reign of Emperor Wu witnessed the increase of routes to obtain access to government offices. From 134

B.C.E. onwards, a series of imperial edicts proclaimed the emperor’s desire to seek cooperation from various groups such as Confucian scholars, local representatives (in the name of their exhibiting “filial 孝” and “upright 廉” conduct), merchants, and adventurous individuals (in the name of their “excellent talent 茂材” and “exceptional quality 異等”) by considering them as candidates for state office.27 Disregarding the contemporary ideological bias against some backgrounds, this guaranteed an abundant supply of managerial agents equipped with diverse knowledge and expertise.

Two types of bureaucrats were most crucial for facilitating resource centralization across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions: legal prosecutors and economic experts.

The first group served mainly as coercive agents to shape all governing elites’ political behavior. Placing aggressive prosecutors in top offices was one of the earliest steps to tighten bureaucratic discipline. Emperor Wu consistently identified and brought into the imperial court lower-rank bureaucrats whom he “considered competent 以為能” in terms of their aggressive prosecution against uncooperative nobles and high officials.

27 For examples regarding widened bureaucratic recruitment, see Shi ji 30, 1428; Han shu 6, pp. 160- 161, pp. 166-167, and p. 197.

142

As examined in the previous chapter, promoting pro-imperial bureaucrats had been a crucial strategy for Han emperors to create core allies for fighting power contenders in the governing elite circle. Emulating his forefathers, Emperor Wu built a nucleus of prosecution-oriented assistants to lead a fast-growing group of “competent” prosecutors to engineer and implement strategies in support of imperial initiatives.

With their unrelenting service, anyone, regardless whether high officials or lower-rank bureaucrats, who doubted imperial policies or undermined policy execution was either demoted or prosecuted.28 The combined activities of promotion, demotion, and prosecution transformed all constituents of imperial bureaucracy into compliant collaborators.

One renowned “competent” prosecutor was Zhang Tang 張湯. Zhang Tang caught Emperor Wu’s attention due to his relentless prosecution in 130 B.C.E. of

Empress Chen (the emperor’s first wife who had fallen into disfavor) and more than

300 individuals implicated in a crime of sorcery.29 Quickly promoted, Zhang Tang was first entrusted with the task of drafting, along with another “competent” official Zhao

Yu 趙禹, meticulous statutes and ordinances to refashion behavioral patterns of bureaucrats at all levels. Even Zhang Tang himself was eventually implicated in an accusation of colluding with merchants, and ended in committing suicide.30

Disciplinary measures against individual officials elicited more predictable action of the bureaucratic machinery, increasing the efficiency of imperial prosecutions against

28 A list of major prosecutors of the time and the degree of their aggressiveness in prosecuting nobilities and officials can be found in the “Biographies of Ruthless Officials.” See Shi ji 122, pp. 3136-3154. 29 Shi ji 122, p. 3138 and Han shu 97a, p. 3948. 30 Shi ji 120, p 3107; 122, p. 3136, p. 3138, and p. 3143. For the level of austerity and amplification in the statues and ordinances drafted by Zhang Tang and Zhao Yu, see Han shu 23, p. 1101.

143 contenders for resources as demonstrated below.

The efficacy of this bureaucracy was tested in 123 B.C.E. in prosecuting Han emperors’ longstanding competitors—the already weakened subordinate kings. As power and resources were now concentrated in the hands of Emperor Wu, warfare was no longer necessary for resolving his political struggles against the Kings of Huainan,

Hengshan, and Jiangdu. But the death toll inflicted by imperial prosecution was by no means lower than a real battle. The main difference between military and legal violence was that one of the two competing parties—the Han court—did not suffer severe losses. Combining strict legal measures with aggressive bureaucratic behavior, imperial prosecutors sentenced tens of thousands of implicated individuals to death.

Probably very few managed to buy their way out.31

After completing the final stage of reducing all nobles to imperial dependents,

Emperor Wu applied this proven bureaucratic machinery to solve the more pressing problem—funding steppe warfare and alliance-building in East Eurasia. Armed with legal proceedings, the Han court conducted a series of financial experiments to squeeze more regional resources, reinforced by imperial prosecution of contenders for resources. To “create” potential prosecution targets both inside and outside the governing elite circle, Emperor Wu and court officials assigned the responsibility for the exhaustion of revenue to all types of resource-holders, especially wealthy merchants. These resource-holders were portrayed as economic villains for they “did not cooperate in [meeting] urgent needs of the state. 不佐國家之急。”

In other words, instead of admitting that imperial power-building activities

31 Shi ji 30, 1424; 118, pp. 3093-3094 and p. 3097; 122, p. 3139.

144 drained state revenue and burdened the state’s subjects, the Han court recast its financial distress as an issue of resource-holders refusing to surrender their wealth to fund imperial projects, “aggravating ordinary subjects’ predicament. 黎民重困.”32

Under this pretext, the financial experiments served to force all types of regional resource-holders into an either-or position. They either cooperated with imperial demands and survived, or resisted and were prosecuted. This leads us to the second type of bureaucrats—commercial experts (i.e. cooperative merchants) who assisted the emperor in devising financial experiments for resource centralization.

Unlike the cases of eliminating subordinate kings and disciplining officials, prosecutors alone were insufficient for the task of replenishing the emptied imperial coffer and raising funds for imperial power-building activities in East Eurasia. The main difference was that rival resource holders were not confined within the governing elite circle, i.e. nobles and officials in the bureaucratic structure who could easily be tracked down and regulated. The imperial court at first experienced substantial difficulty in predicting and altering the economic behavior of resource competitors outside state agencies. For instance, horse-owners in the imperial capital hid their horses when the destitute government intended to “rent 貰” instead of buy horses for satisfying Emperor Wu’s expectation of mobilizing 20,000 carriages in order to lavishly welcome the surrendered King of Kunye and his followers in 121

B.C.E. At the time the emperor was unable to do anything about resource-holders’ lack of cooperation other than threatening to behead the Governor of the Imperial Capital.33

32 Shi ji 30, p. 1425. 33 Shi ji 120, p. 3109.

145

After this unpleasant experience, from 119 B.C.E. onwards the Han court initiated a series of financial experiments to transform economic relations, maximizing imperial advantage in resource competition across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.34 The intended goal was to shift targeted profitable materials under imperial management, thereby reducing resource contenders to mere suppliers of imperial power-building projects. In order to tap into various resources controlled by economic rivals both within and beyond the governing elite circle, Emperor Wu not only charged prosecutors to impose new policies through legal coercion, but also incorporated cooperative merchants into the bureaucracy to facilitate state interference in ordinary commercial networks.

In the early stage of these financial experiments, there seemed to be a division of labor in the Han court between top prosecutors and newly recruited merchant-officials in devising and operating strategies for resource concentration. Emperor Wu and top prosecutors such as Zhang Tang focused principally on accumulating money through means that the imperial state held an inherent privilege to use—the taxation and currency systems. In the meantime, cooperative and influential merchant-officials like

Kong Jin 孔僅 conducted government intervention into non-state enterprises, transferring targeted materials into the hands of the imperial government.35 All financial experiments were reinforced by severe legal coercion. However, the different outcomes of strategies implemented by prosecutors and merchant-officials manifested the unique significance of cooperative merchants’ participation in re-allocating

34 Han shu 6, p. 178. 35 Shi ji 30, p. 1428 and p. 1433; 122, p. 3140.

146 resources for the benefit of the Han court.

Without the mediation of merchant-officials, legal coercion alone seemed unable to modify the economic activities of resource holders beyond the governing elite circle.

An obvious example was the uneven process of financial experiments related to money accumulation where merchant-officials were not directly involved.36 In 119

B.C.E. Emperor Wu and Zhang Tang launched their experiments on two fronts to increase imperial control over the monetary system and to capture more cash from resource competitors in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, particularly the nobility and wealthy merchants. One was to introduce new types of exchange media and the other was to revise property taxation. But the first seven years of this experiment were full of twists and turns—while the Han court attempted to extract more money, its economic contenders were reluctant to cooperate and surrender resource control to the government. We will begin with the experiment on inventing new types of currency.

The first financial experiment of the Han court exploited state power in creating media of exchange and defining their face value. One approach was to take advantage of raw materials controlled by the imperial palace and the emperor’s private treasury—white deer, silver, and tin. New trading media made of these raw materials were given an exceedingly high monetary value in terms of existing, copper-based currency. The idea was to use materials that the emperor owned in abundance to capture copper-money produced by many parties across the Yellow and Yangtze

36 The following discussion regarding both cash accumulation and imperial monopoly of profitable materials is based mainly on related policies detailed in both the “Treatise of Balanced Standards 平準書” in Shi ji and the “Treatise of Food and Money 食貨志” in Han shu. See Shi ji 30, pp. 1425-1441 and Han shu 24, pp. 1158-1176.

147

Rivers regions.

However, earlier optimism about the power of legal coercion proved completely unjustified in securing imperial control over the newly created currency. The only

“potential” exception was deerskin “currency” 皮幣37—a medium of exchange aimed at seizing money from the nobility. The Han court mandated that for kings, lords, and imperial family members to present in court rituals the Bi-jade (costing less than

10,000 cash at the time), they were required to use palace-designed deerskin that was assigned a face value of 400,000 cash per piece.38 The imperial palace monopolized not only an easy access to the raw material for producing this trading medium, but its production process. It was also circulated only within a particular political elite circle.

Given scarce evidence left to us regarding this embellished deerskin “currency,” we have no way to know whether it functioned well for the imperial extraction of copper cash from the nobility. Nonetheless, as kings and lords had generally been reduced to imperial dependents and were thus more vulnerable to government prosecution, legal coercion alone might have been sufficient to force nobles to adopt this new trading medium and surrender money to the Han court.

But we have clear evidence indicating that even backed by legal coercion, the exchange media made of silver and tin did not function well for imperial accumulation of money beyond the circle of the nobility. Emperor Wu and Zhang Tang invented three categories of silver-and tin currency, generically called “White Gold 白金,” designated respectively at high face-values of 3,000, 500, and 300 cash, and circulated

37 Some scholars argue from either the philological perspective or a particular modern currency theory that this embellished deerskin should not be considered as currency. Regardless, this item was doubtlessly used as a trading medium, albeit limited within the highest political elite circle. 38 Shi ji 30, p. 1426 and p. 1433.

148 these in ordinary market networks. Nonetheless, the imperial court failed to retain exclusive possession of monetary profit that was built into the manipulated face value of this new currency. The imperial court did not seem to be the only party that owned silver and tin. The manufacture of White Gold was also probably not a monopolized technology. The evidence was that while unauthorized production of White Gold was outlawed, officials and ordinary subjects remained able to manufacture it, profiting along with the Han court. In other words, not only the imperial court, but any party that got access to silver, tin, and the production technology was capable of exploiting

White Gold to divert the flow of copper cash toward themselves. Not surprisingly, the silver-and-tin currency did not survive over five years and was abolished in 114 B.C.E.

While the official excuse for the abolition was the reluctance of ordinary subjects to use White Gold, there was no reason for the Han court to stick to an exchange medium that failed to serve its original purpose—concentrating money under imperial management.39

The limits of legal coercion for altering economic behavior were also obvious in the process of aggressive imperial intervention in the copper-based money system.

One example was the changes in method for the Han court to stabilize the newly created Wuzhu 五銖, a type of copper cash that weighed more than existing coins. The government rationale was that heavier coins could prevent deception and fraud.40 The underlying assumption seemed to be that the increase in weight could compel coin manufacturers who possessed lesser means to produce fewer coins or even be forced

39 Shi ji 30, p. 1427 and p. 1434. 40 Shi ji 30, p. 1429.

149 out of the business altogether due to larger demands for metal investment in coinage.

Presumably, not only the amount of circulated copper coins would decline, but the

Han court might also have fewer competitors in Wuzhu production. But similar to the case of White Gold, unauthorized mintage of Wuzhu was rampant, and legal coercion failed to suppress such activity. As discussed above, both the access to copper and the production of coins were retained at the local level from the early Han until this point, allowing state and non-state agencies to both manufacture copper cash whether legally or illegally. In essence, in the first five years of Emperor Wu’s currency experiments the Han court lost control of both the manufacture and the quantity of White Gold and

Wuzhu for precisely the same reason—multiple parties had access to the raw materials and production technology for mintage.

Betraying imperial expectations, draconian prosecution of unauthorized manufacture did not place the Han court in an absolutely advantageous position in mintage competition. Due to the high profit from producing new exchange media that were initially designed to benefit the imperial coffers, even the death penalty was ineffective in helping the emperor to out-compete all rival manufacturers who wanted to share the wealth. The scale of “illegal” currency production was so immense that killing all violators became unpractical. For instance, after five years of putting White

Gold and Wuzhu to use, “(amnesty is granted to) some hundreds of thousands of officials and ordinary subjects (who) were sentenced to death for unauthorized minting of [white] gold and [copper] money. (赦)吏民之坐盜鑄金錢死者數十萬人.”41

41 This sentence can be interpreted in two ways. One is to keep the “赦” character in the sentence and the other to treat it as a wrongly added word. Regardless, this sentence indicates a large amount of

150

Moreover, “amnesty is granted to more than one million of those [violators] who turned themselves in. 赦自出者百餘萬人.”42 Unlike prosecuting members in the governing elite circle, it did not seem to be a viable option for the imperial court to conduct massive killing across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions that reached the level of ordinary subjects. The need to grant amnesty was a sign that the imposition of the death penalty against a widespread economic activity ironically forced the emperor to make some compromises with violators.

Only when legal mintage by local governments was also terminated in 112 B.C.E. did the imperial court eventually dominate the Wuzhu production and control the quantity of coins in circulation. Rather than abolishing Wuzhu, as in the case of White

Gold, the Han court tried a different strategy—minimizing rival manufacturers’ access to the raw material. Three changes were made to alter the dynamics of imperial competition with rival manufacturers over mintage. First, local governments, which had legally manufactured Wuzhu, were no longer allowed to mint coins. Second, all circulating coins had to be melted, and the copper extracted from those melted coins had to be delivered to the imperial capital for centralized production and redistribution as Wuzhu. Third, any coin that was not minted by the central government agency was no longer considered valid currency.43 This method proved more effective in reducing rival manufacturers than merely increasing the weight of coins. One advantage was that without mining, the Han court immediately “harvested” a large amount of copper convicts. For reading the character as a wrongly added word, see Katō Shigeshi 加藤繁 (annotated), Shiki heijunsho; Kanjo shokkashi 史記平準書‧漢書食貨志 (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1977), p. 48 note 153; Nagata Hidemasa 永田英正 and Umehara Kaoru 梅原郁 (annotated), Kanjo: shokuka, chiri, kōkyokushi 漢書―食貨‧地理‧溝洫志 (Tokyo: Heibonsha, 2008), p. 148 note 1. 42 Shi ji 30, p. 1433. 43 Shi ji 30, pp. 1434-1435.

151 that had been circulated or stored in the form of coins. Another surmisable outcome was that, except for a few resourceful local parties that mined their own copper, minor manufacturers were no longer able to collect copper from circulated coins or through collusion with local bureaucrats.44 With the number of rival manufacturers greatly reduced, it would have also been much easier for the government to hunt and prosecuted illegal coin producers.

The original idea for this method can be traced back to Jia Yi, who proposed to

Emperor Wen the significance of centralizing copper control for elevating the emperor’s economic authority vis-à-vis rival manufacturers of coins.45 This proposal was apparently difficult to implement at the time, as Emperor Wen still had almost no control of subordinate kings’ states. In addition, bureaucratic behavior was probably not as tightly monitored as during the reign of Emperor Wu. But the imperial decision in 112 B.C.E. to impede copper possession at the local level might have also been inspired by a contemporary politico-economic action conducted by top merchant- officials—intertwining state and non-state agencies to achieve exlusive imperial possession of targeted raw materials for monopolizing profits.

While Emperor Wu relied on prosecutors to conduct currency experiments, merchant-officials were in charge of shifting the management of salt and iron production and distribution from non-state commercial networks to the bureaucratic system. Two cooperative merchants were installed in court offices for the task. One

44 Mining copper ores alone was already a labor-intensive task. Maintaining sufficient labor force for mining, transporting, and processing copper must have demanded tremendous investment. For an estimate of labor demand in mining a strategically-important metal such as copper and iron, see Chen Zhi 陳直, Liang Han jingji shiliao luncun 兩漢經濟史料論叢 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 2008), pp. 114-118, pp. 126-127. 45 Han shu 24b, pp. 1153-1156.

152 was Kong Jing, who was a leader of the iron-smelting industry in Nanyang

Commandery. The other was Dongguo Xianyang 東郭咸陽, who was a major producer of salt in the Qi area.46 Unlike the uneven process of implementing new exchange media, the experiment in a salt-and-iron monopoly conducted by these merchant-officials seemed to suffer fewer obstacles due to two major differences. First, the two experts of their respective trades focused from the very beginning on the root of resource control—raw materials and the production process. Second, while using legal coercion to threaten uncooperative parties, the two leading merchant-officials also integrated cooperative merchants into the bureaucracy, thereby aligning their financial interests with those of the imperial government.

The real intent of the salt-and-iron monopoly was for the Han court to become the principal beneficiary of the high profit associated with salt production and distribution. To achieve this goal, the two merchant-officials first proposed that iron and iron vessels—the means that made salt production possible—to be placed under government control.47 Non-state production of iron vessels was outlawed, making the imperial government the only manufacturer. Violators would have their left-foot shackled and their equipments confiscated.48 This strategy created one obvious advantage for the imperial court. As the common production method of salt at the time was boiling brine (e.g. sea water) in iron vessels, the availability of iron vessels

46 Shi ji 30, p. 1428. 47 This original intent of controlling iron for manufacturing salt-production equipments was later reinterpreted by court officials, according to the record in the Discourses on Salt and Iron, as for supplying farming needs. See Xu Nancun 徐南村 (annotated), Discourses on Salt and Iron 鹽鐵論 (Taipei: Guangwun shuju, 1975), p. 5. 48 Shi ji 30, p. 1429.

153 determined the capability of salt production.49 By controlling the access to iron and iron vessels, the Han court not only had the option of out-competing non-state salt producers, but also gained access to place intense surveillance on those who used government-made vessels to process brine.

But more crucial was the actual procedure that the two merchant-officials used to implement this strategy. Rather than immediately mobilizing imperial prosecutors to hunt violators of a formerly non-regulated activity, Kong Jing and Dongguo Xianyang took the following steps. They travelled to visit commanderies and subordinate states, establishing state agencies to manage salt and iron production, and appointing those more resourceful merchants in the industries to be bureaucrats.50 Although records do not provide any further details, at least two implications can be surmised from the given information. First, Kong Jing and Dongguo Xianyang could have been exercising their own connections in the non-state commercial networks to persuade potential allies in the salt and iron production industries. Both were leading figures in their respective trade. It would be unimaginable that other influential merchants in the same industries had never heard of or done business with them. Their presence as imperial representatives, reinforced by the government carriage that carried them to various localities, was in essence the bridge that connected state and non-state agencies. Considering the connections based on friendship or business partnership that the two merchant-officials brought to this task, it would not be a surprise that the

49 Kageyama Tsuyoshi provides highly comprehensive studies on both salt and iron production, ranging from the organization of labor force, production means, to the circulation of products. See Kageyama Tsuyoshi 影山剛, Chūgoku kodai no shōkōgyō to senbaisei 中国古代の商工業と専売制, (Tokyo: Tokyo daigaku shuppankai, 1984), pp. 147-309. 50 Shi ji 30, p. 1429.

154 process of conducting salt-and-iron monopoly seemed smoother than currency experiments.

Second, and most importantly, cooperative merchants gained the reward of a symbiotic existence with the imperial government. Incorporating merchants into the bureaucracy per se was understood from the imperial perspective to be a reward to collaborators, as policies since the early Han generally rejected merchants from government recruitment. But from the perspective of those participating merchants, government offices must have offered something beneficial to their original trade.

While we may never know to which types of offices these merchants were appointed, there was no reason for the Han court to ignore their expertise and facilities in the trade. If cooperative merchants were indeed assigned to newly created offices for government-controlled salt and iron production and distribution, it would also explain why the imperial monopoly did not suffer resistance from these major manufacturers.

For one thing, cooperative merchant-officials could have got bureaucratic authority as an added means to out-compete rival manufacturers in the trade, benefiting together with the Han court from the reduced number of competitors. For another, holding government offices related to their own trade could have given cooperative merchants more opportunities to adapt their own enterprise to the new systems, and also survive from the waves of imperial suppression against uncooperative merchants.

One case suggests that merchants at the time were not necessarily interested in cooperating with imperial initiatives when the offered reward of government offices was irrelevant to their own livelihood. Emperor Wu tried to use offices to attract voluntary donation from merchants in all trades but with no success. This strategy was

155 probably an improvisation from the aforementioned proposal of Chao Cuo to Emperor

Wen. While Chao Cuo’s original idea was to use ranks and remissions in exchange for grain, Emperor Wu offered a path to government offices. To set a positive example, the emperor used a resourceful merchant in goat husbandry named Bu Shi 卜式. Bu

Shi had been active in volunteering his own resources to support steppe warfare.

When imperial revenues were depleted at the time of welcoming “surrendered” steppe kings, he further contributed 200,000 cash for supporting state-organized population migration. Emperor Wu thus recruited Bu Shi and assigned him to multiple offices, expecting more merchants would be lured by this example.51

But Bu Shi’s assigned offices mostly had no direct relevance with his original trade. Granted that Bu Shi might have not cared to use government posts for benefitting his own enterprise, there was no reason to expect others to think and act the same way. This is demonstrated by the merchants’ lack of response to imperial appeals. Emperor Wu’s strategy of using offices as rewards initially functioned together with the new property taxation policy that the Han court imposed in 119

B.C.E. On the one hand, the emperor promoted Bu Shi to high offices and offered people who contributed grain to the imperial government to be candidates for offices.

On the other hand, all types of merchants were mandated to report their formerly untaxed property for further taxation.52

While property taxation aimed to squeeze defined categories of revenue from merchants, the reward of offices represented an optimistic expectation that merchants

51 Shi ji 30, pp. 1431-1432. 52 Shi ji 30, p. 1430 and p. 1433; Han shu 6, p. 178.

156 would surrender much more resources than demanded in exchange for a place in the government. But both strategies failed entirely. Not only did nobody follow Bu Shi’s example, but many merchants did not report their formerly untaxed property. This passive resistance from the merchants against imperial extraction eventually led to more aggressive measures. In 114 B.C.E., an edict was issued to encourage ordinary subjects informing the government of merchants who did not report property as mandated. Accusers would share half of the forfeiture. Combining aggressive prosecutors with a lure for everyone to report violators, even those merchants of average means were mostly destroyed. The Han court greatly profited from this particular wave of economic suppression. Confiscated cash amounted to some hundreds of millions, and countless servants, farmlands and residences.53

From this case, we can see that government offices were not really an effective lure to make merchants surrender resources for funding the imperial coffers—unless they were forced into a situation where they needed to choose between thriving along with the imperial government or being destroyed. In contrast, in the case of recruiting manufacturers of salt and iron into the bureaucracy, both the relatively smooth imposition of salt-and-iron monopoly and those merchants’ willingness to accept the

“reward” of an office suggested that they must have gained critical advantages from posts that were relevant to enhancing their own trades under the new systems and the campaigns of legal coercion against merchants.

In these economic competitions between the emperor and all other resource holders in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the Han court successfully created

53 Shi ji 30, pp. 1434-1435; Han shu 6, p. 183.

157 small groups of collaborators to suppress all types of contenders for resources, reducing uncooperative parties to powerless suppliers. The resources extracted through the salt-and-iron monopoly and confiscated property from accused merchants were so enormous that not only were the imperial coffers fully replenished within one decade, but the Han court was able to fund more varieties of imperial power-building activities such as opening new wars on several fronts in East Eurasia from 112 B.C.E., building new commanderies in its northwestern and southern frontier zones, lavishly furnishing palaces and imperial gardens, and conducting imperial tours across the

Yellow River region.54

Material resources were not the only benefit that the Han court gained in the process of forcefully altering economic relationships and networks in the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions. While legal coercion was not always a useful method to attract both active and reluctant collaborators, it was highly effective in creating a large number of “criminals”—human resources that the imperial government could more freely exploit. For instance, “criminals” who hoped to redeem themselves provided critical amounts of fighting and labor forces to battles in the Pearl River region in 112 B.C.E., in the Korean peninsula in 109 B.C.E., and even warfare beyond the northwest frontier zone in 97 B.C.E.55 It would not be an exaggeration to state that imperial power-building in East Eurasia, particularly the Han-Xiongnu competitions, was the force that drove the Han court to re-organize economic power relations and networks of resource flows in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

54 Shi ji 30, p. 1436, pp. 1438-1441. 55 Shi ji 113, p. 2974; 115, p. 2987; 116, p. 2996; 123, p. 3171 and p. 3176.

158

In Search for Sustainable Power-building in East Eurasia

It is undeniable that the Han court was highly successful in altering economic relations and resource flows for funding imperial power-buiding activities through exploiting the knowledge and expertise of cooperative parties, regardless of their backgrounds. However, this victory in resource concentration also generated unintended consequences. Two interconnected consequences will be discussed in the following section. One was widespread “bandit” activities against imperial establishments in the later reign of Emperor Wu that reflected the frustration of local populations about their worsening conditions. The other was one probable cause of such frustration—a vacuum of community support that the Han court unexpectedly created in the process of deploying coercive measures against contenders for resources.

On the one hand, legal coercion destroyed non-state resource centers that had long sponsored complex networks of community support to the poor in local communities.

On the other hand, compared to its focus on imperial power-building in East Eurasia, the Han court did not seem to pay much attention to the problem of natural disasters that happened frequently during the reign of Emperor Wu in the Han-governed areas, resulting in a large number of impoverished populations especially in the Yellow River region. Combining frequent calamities with limited state-level assistance to victims and the elimination of non-state support mechanisms at the local level, it is no surprise that frustration drove some to struggle for their existence through violent means as bandits. In this sense, imperial approaches to extracting and allocating resources for power-building in far-flung lands were apparently one crucial factor that severed relations between the Han government and its subjects.

159

Besides the deteriorating relations between the imperial government and its subjects, the tension between decision-makers in the Han court and executors of imperial decisions also began to result in actions such as refusing to report bandit activities or surrendering to the Xiongnu chanyu. These signs of resistance from people of all strata prompted the successors of Emperor Wu to reconsider imperial interactions with their own subjects and with foreign polities. One discernable trend after the reign of Emperor Wu was a swift shift toward prioritizing diplomatic manipulation over military expeditions for imperial power-building on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. Taking advantage of the Han-centered interstate network built by

Emperor Wu, the subsequent Han emperors maintained imperial influence in East

Eurasia mainly by interfering in succession decisions of allied states. When military action was taken to assert imperial influence, the Han court relied more and more on allied polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin and affiliated states in frontier zones. These approaches reduced the need for incessant mobilization of human and material resources from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. In the meantime, the political elites of foreign polities also manipulated their relations with major powers such as the Han and the Xiongnu to cultivate influence in court politics of their own state and in the negotiation of state status. As intelligence was critical to all participants in the power-building game for both alliance maintenance and diplomatic manipulation, the function of the imperial infrastructural system in the Hexi Corridor also changed. Rather than serving as a provision line for long-distance transportation of Han troops from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions deep into the steppe or

Tarim Basin, the frontier commanderies in the Hexi Corridor and extended outposts in

160 the Tarim Basin became more of a communication line for securing allied polities’ allegiance.

In the following, we will first discuss the factors that forced the Han court to reconsider its relations with its subjects in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions vis-

à-vis imperial power-building ambitions in the larger political landscape of East

Eurasia.

(1) Severed Imperial Relations with Subjects in the Yellow River region

While the Han court transformed the bureaucratic machine into the largest and most aggressive resource extractor across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the imperial government was also confronted by a new type of challenger. Later in the reign of Emperor Wu, widespread, non-institutionalized opposing forces challenged imperial establishments across the eastern half of the Yellow River region. This new type of antagonist was distinct in many ways from long-time rivals of the emperors in the early Han such as subordinate kings and the Xiongnu chanyu. These new challengers to imperial authority appeared at first glance to be fragmentary and amorphous, generically labelled as “bandits 盜賊”, and unconnected to the working of the larger political landscape of East Eurasia. Nonetheless, textual inferences suggest otherwise. The escalating scale of imperial suppression of “bandits” represented decades of declining relations between the Han court and the governed populations that culminated in mutual violence. As will be analyzed below, such confrontation can be understood as a backlash against incessant imperial power-building in East Eurasia, for the Han court advanced its influence on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin at the

161 expense of all communities in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

The lower reaches of the Yellow River region, or “East of the Passes 關東”, would be the best example to demonstrate the correlation between imperial power- building in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia and soaring “bandit” activities in Han-governed areas. The prevalence of “bandits” in this area could be understood as the accumulated result of repeated natural disasters, constant removal of local resources to be spent on imperial initiatives outside the East of the Passes, and the destruction of non-state actors that had long formed a crucial part of social support mechanisms in local communities. Most importantly, we find in this area the first example in Han history of the emperor launching state-organized military expeditions against challengers to imperial authority who were not state rulers.

Natural disasters seemed almost routine in the eastern half of the Yellow River region during the reign of Emperor Wu. Grave calamities struck the area for years since the young emperor’s ascension, ranging from floods to abnormal weather and locusts. Some caused famines so severe that incidents of cannibalism were reported.

But the Han court rarely organized action for catastrophe relief or precautionary measures, leaving the problem to local officials and communities. After Emperor Wu took the throne, the first recorded crisis that led to cannibalism was caused by floods in the Yellow River’s lower reaches in 138 B.C.E., the third year of his reign.56 But no sign suggested any active imperial participation in local recovery. One indicative case was unauthorized relief activity by a court official Ji An 汲黯, who was sent by

Emperor Wu to East of the Passes to inspect a fire that was said to have burned over

56 Han shu 6, p. 158.

162

1,000 houses. Ji An came back with a report stating that the much more serious problem was starvation in flood-and-drought stricken areas that he happened to pass through during this special mission. According to this report about post-disaster results, over 10,000 impoverished households were damaged to the degree that “some fathers and sons ate each other 或父子相食”. Instead of wasting time requesting the Han court for permission, Ji An promptly demanded that local officials open government granaries for relief.57 Such action indicates that before Ji An’s arrival, neither the Han court nor the local government cared to distribute state-controlled grain to help the starving. Given that Emperor Wu pardoned Ji An’s unauthorized opening of government granaries, this incident shows that without the accidental intervention of a daring court official, the disaster-stricken population along his travel route could have continued fending for themselves without assistance from the government.

Even with a significant course change of the Yellow River in 132 B.C.E., the Han court remained apathetic in coping with catastrophes in Han-governed areas, compared to its interest in steppe warfare that started in 129 B.C.E. Imperial attention did not focus for long on the serious flooding problem that struck several commanderies and subordinate states in East of the Passes. After some unsuccessful attempts to block flood flows, the Han court abandoned state-organized projects of flood control, leaving the problem unsolved for more than two decades until 109

B.C.E.58 In the meantime, the first decade of steppe warfare ensued despite the fact that anomalous weather conditions continued to plague Han-governed areas. Within

57 Shi ji 120, p. 3105. 58 Shi ji 29, p. 1409 and pp. 1412-1413; 30, p. 1424; Han shu 6, p. 163.

163 this decade, the documented extreme-weather events included great droughts in 129,

124, and 120 B.C.E. and unusual snow in 122 B.C.E. when deaths by freezing were reported, probably due to the scale. It is noteworthy that 129 and 124 B.C.E were exactly the same years in which the Han court mobilized tens to hundreds of thousands of troops for steppe warfare.59 After repeated calamities in the Yellow River region, the lack for about two decades of integrated disaster relief and precautions, and steppe warfare that exhausted state-controlled resources, the Han court was “suddenly” caught by the problem of how to deal with hundreds of thousands of catastrophe victims in East of the Passes while launching another expedition on the steppe in 119

B.C.E.

The Han court eventually abandoned its negligent approach to catastrophes after a great flood in 120 B.C.E., most likely due to the scale of the impoverished population in East of the Passes, which had grown to such a size that any further disregard could have damaged the imperial image. But at this point state revenues had been severely drained by imperial power-building activities on the steppe and in the

Tarim Basin, especially after lavishly welcoming the “surrendered” King of Kunye and rewarding Han armies in 121 B.C.E. Imperial reluctance, or incapacity, to spend resources on disaster management was evident in the Han court’s handling of this particular post-flood devastation. Granted that this time Emperor Wu ordered local officials to distribute government-owned grain to the starving, with the already depleted coffers it is questionable how much support state agencies actually provided to catastrophe victims. In addition, the only recorded precautionary action taken by the

59 Han shu 6, p. 166, p. 171, and p. 174; 27b p. 1392 and p. 1424.

164

Han court after the flood was to send out imperial emissaries to encourage disaster- stricken people to plant short-cycle crops, not to initiate any flood-control project.60

That is to say, not only did the Han court show no intention of spending government resources on infrastructural precautions, but it essentially transferred all obligations to catastrophe victims, who had to change cropping habits so as to be able to harvest before the next disaster hit the area.

Imperial calls for voluntary donations to state agencies further shows that the Han court preferred to co-opt the wealthy to shoulder the burden, while the government took the credit for relief assistance. Unlike his massive spending of state resources on steppe warfare and alliance building, in the case of disaster management Emperor Wu initially opted for the role of a mere mediator who channelled resources from the wealthy to catastrophe victims. While promoting cropping change, imperial emissaries were also obliged to report to the emperor those who were willing to offer loans to the impoverished population. Even when the Han court decided in 119 B.C.E. to launch a state-organized emigration project that moved 725,000 devastated people from East of the Passes to four frontier commanderies in the northwest and one in the southeast, the wealthy were expected to assume, along with the imperial state, the economic burden of provisioning this massive resettlement. The desired contributions were apparently not small ones. Bu Shi, the aforementioned exemplar chosen by Emperor Wu from a list of donors, offered 200,000 cash to the governor of Henan Commandery 河南郡.

The existence of a “List of the Wealthy who Helped the Poor 富人助貧人者籍” submitted by this governor indicated that Bu Shi was not the only person who made

60 Shi ji 30, p. 1425; Han shu 6, 177.

165 donations to state agencies for relief-related projects. But these donors seemed strangely invisible in imperial discourses. The Han court quickly made a sweeping accusation of the wealthy for their “hiding of wealth 匿財” from imperial fund-raising efforts, and started a series of financial experiments from 119 B.C.E. against these resource holders both within and beyond the political elite circle, as discussed in the previous section. 61

But no sign suggests that the impoverished population in East of the Passes benefited from imperial success in economic dominance across the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions. On the contrary, the conditions of local communities in East of the Passes kept worsening, as the Han court maintained its pattern of sporadic responses to disasters. Four years into the imperial financial experiments, in 115

B.C.E., a compound calamity of great snow in the winter and floods in the summer caused thousands in East of the Passes to starve to death. This time the flood damage extended to the Yangtze River region. Unlike the case of the long-ravaged Yellow

River region, the Han court organized the first documented state-level transportation of grain in Emperor Wu’s reign from the upper to the middle reaches of the Yangtze

River for disaster relief.62 This rare imperial action had little chance to produce positive results, as unusual hail immediately followed in the summer of 114 B.C.E.

Prevalent famine apparently continued to plague East of the Passes, as cannibalism in the area was reported again. Although it would be too strong to say that the Han court did nothing to provide assistance to alleviate local suffering, there seemed to be no

61 Shi ji 30, p. 1425 and p. 1432; Han shu 6, pp. 177-178. 62 Han shu 6, p. 182.

166 further state-level, overall planning for disaster management other than this grain transportation to the middle reaches of the Yangtze River region.

At the same time, the Han court spent newly accumulated wealth on power- building activities in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia. As outlined in the previous section, by 112 B.C.E. the Han court had acquired so much wealth that it could afford to launch a series of frontier wars on multiple fronts in East Eurasia and to establish more commanderies both in the northwest frontier in the Hexi Corridor and the conquered polities to the south. Another case was two grandiose imperial journeys for which Emperor Wu set out in 110 B.C.E, one to the Ordos Steppe in the northwest and the other to Mountain Tai in the east. Although we do not have numerical figures about the estimated expenditure on the two long-distance journeys, some examples suggest the scale of mobilization. Take for example the imperial trip to the Ordos Steppe. In this trip Emperor Wu intended to flaunt Han military might to the

Xiongnu by taking two actions. One was to send an imperial emissary to the chanyu boasting about imperial success in conquering a rival polity at the southern frontier.

The other was essentially a military display. In his visit to the northwest corner of the

Yellow River loop, the emperor was escorted by 180,000 cavalry. The spectacle of

“banners and flags stretching over 1,000 li 旌旗徑千餘里” was only possible through a massive supply of human, animal, and material resources.63

It is undeniable that in 109 B.C.E. Emperor Wu finally paid some attention to disaster management in the lower reaches of the Yellow River, starting a flood-control

63 Shi ji 28, pp. 1396-1399; 110, p. 2912; Han shu 6, pp. 188-189.

167 project on his second visit to Mountain Tai.64 But compared to the enormous expenditure on warfare and imperial journeys, nothing substantial was achieved in terms of mitigating post-calamity conditions in the East of the Passes. Even worse, in

107 B.C.E. court officials were again discussing how to handle a shocking number of impoverished people—2,000,000 vagrants in East of the Passes. This colossal number of homeless poor was the most obvious indication that the impoverished not only benefited very little from imperial extraction of resources from the wealthy, but even fell into more miserable conditions. Interestingly, when it came to relief-related issues, the emperor and his idle Prime Minister, Shi Qing 石慶, repeated the refrain that

“granaries in the cities (i.e. the site of local government buildings) are empty 城郭倉

庫空虛”.65 If this rhetoric was not just an imperial excuse but reflected reality, it could only mean that the resources extracted from Han-governed areas were not retained at local government buildings. That is to say, the resources confiscated through aggressive financial experiments were physically removed from local communities and were thus not on site even if an official cared to use them to mitigate local emergencies.

Further calamities ensued regardless of imperial excuses for the long-term absence of state-organized, integrated assistance to the impoverished population.

Droughts and locusts hit Han-governed areas in 105, 104, 95, and 90 B.C.E. In particular, the locusts in 104 B.C.E. spread from the eastern half of the Yellow River region all the way to Dunhuang in the west end of the Hexi Corridor. Meanwhile, the

64 Shi ji 29, pp. 1412-1413. 65 Shi ji 103, p. 2768.

168

Han court apparently still controlled massive amounts of resources, as to the end of

Emperor Wu’s reign it could afford to keep funding multiple imperial projects on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin: long-distance attacks on Dayuan from 104 B.C.E. that lasted four years, construction of frontier outposts along the north side of the Yellow

River loop and in the Hexi Corridor, and re-opened steppe warfare against the

Xiongnu that continued into 90 B.C.E.66 These events demonstrate a consistent pattern of skewed imperial spending toward power-building in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia, and tenacious imperial inaction on state-level disaster management.

As discussed above, the imperial government mainly extracted vast amounts of resources from Han-governed areas to be sent to the imperial capital and frontier zones, not from the wealthy to be transferred to the poor. The suffering population in East of

Passes was used as an excuse for the Han court to use legal coercion to re-structure economic relations in subsequent years. But the newly accumulated wealth in the state’s coffers largely served to fund projects in the imperial palace and multiple frontier zones instead of supporting catastrophe victims across the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions. Of course, we will never know whether the poor cared about imperial negligence of integrated disaster management across Han-governed areas or imperial expenditure on power building in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia.

Nonetheless, the fast-growing numbers of “bandits” at least suggests the frustration of local communities in East of the Passes about their own conditions.

Although no direct evidence is extant regarding the social backgrounds of

“bandits,” it would be mistaken to assume that the Han court paid much attention to

66 Han shu 6, pp. 199-203, pp. 205-206, and p. 209.

169 mere hooligans who annoyed local communities. Especially later in the reign of

Emperor Wu, the so-called “bandit” activities were essentially social uprisings that openly confronted imperial authority. The nature of these “bandits” as challengers to the imperial presence is revealed not only in the scale of organization but in their choice of attack targets. According to one summary in Shi ji, the largest opposing forces consisted of several thousand members, the smaller ones some hundreds. They

“claimed titles for themselves, attacked cities, took away weapons from armories, released convicts, tied up and humiliated commandary governors and commandants, killed 2,000-bushels officials (i.e. top government officials), and wrote proclamations to inform counties to hasten to prepare provisions. 擅自號，攻城邑，取庫兵，釋死

罪，縛辱郡太守、都尉，殺二千石，為檄告縣趣具食.”67 All the violent actions described in this summary were aimed at imperial establishments in local communities.

Government buildings such as offices, armories, and prisons were clustered in cities and thus ready targets. In particular, releasing convicts was an explicit challenge to government legal decisions. Local officials, whose job was to represent the Han court and to impose imperial policies, also became the inescapable victims of the severed relations between the Han court and local communities in East of the Passes.

The scale and number of opposing forces were so large that in 99 B.C.E.

Emperor Wu dispatched imperial emissaries to East of the Passes to organize state- level, comprehensive suppression of “bandit” activities.68 Unlike the case of

67 The documented opposing forces that drew imperial attention included seven leaders in Nanyang 南陽, Qi 齊, Yan 燕, Zhao 趙 commandary and subordinate states, all were located in East of the Passes. See Shi ji 122, p. 3151. 68 Shi ji 122, p. 3151; Han shu 6, p. 204.

170 expeditions against subordinate kings or foreign rulers, these imperial emissaries were not assigned a military title such as “Grand Commandant 太尉” or “General 將軍”.

Nonetheless, their tasks were essentially the same—mobilizing armies across commanderies and subordinate states for integrated military action against opposing forces. In short, this was a de facto war, albeit the enemy of the imperial troops was not a state ruler and the opposing forces not an institutional army.

Why was the tension heightened to this degree between the imperial government and its subjects? In the case of communities in the eastern half of the Yellow River region, natural disasters, deteriorating living conditions, and minimal imperial assistance for disaster management would all have contributed. But another long-term factor is seldom explained in extant textual records—the unintended destruction of non-state relief mechanisms in the process of imperial competition against contenders for resources in local communities. As will be demonstrated below, non-state resource holders such as the so-called “powerful 豪” had long served as nodes of community support networks. By extending imperial prosecution against resource holders down to the level of households with average means, the Han court essentially destroyed a great part of these alternative relief mechanisms. As a result, the impoverished population was left with no other choice than to be more dependent on the largest holder of resources—the government. In this new form of economic relations, imperial neglect in disaster management could have engendered more fatal consequences than before.

The problem of the loss alternatives for local support might have been one reason for the fast-growing size of both the homeless poor and bandits in East of the Passes. It

171 is important to note that the imperial government had by no means been the only wealthy authority in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. Several signs indicated that locally powerful figures and their families were significant resource centers that sponsored complex networks of community support. Those praised by Sima Qian as

“chivalrous 俠” were initially members of locally “powerful” families who were so outstandingly generous in distributing their own resources to others that they became highly influential in local communities. One exemplar named Zhu Jia 朱家, a contemporary of the first Han emperor, was praised as follows: “when giving aid to those who could not provide [for themselves, he] first began with the poor and the humble 振人不贍，先從貧賤始”.69 Such action, if practiced consistently, would have supported a sizeable number of impoverished locals.

Even in the cases of “powerful” figures that cared more about money-making, their need for labor could translate into providing resources for survival to the poor.

Take for instance the case of Ning Cheng 寧成, an official who served Emperor Jing but abandoned his government post early in the reign of Emperor Wu and returned to his hometown in Nanyang Commandery 南陽郡 in East of the Passes. He “then purchased on credit over 1,000 qing of hillside fields and lent to the poor people, making thousands of households work [for him]. 乃貰貸買陂田千餘頃，假貧民，役

使數千家.” In other words, thousands of impoverished households were depending on

Ning Cheng’s resources for livelihood. It was also said that “his commanding over people [carried] more authority than the commandery governor 其使民威重於郡

69 Shi ji 124, p. 3184.

172

守”.70 It would be arguable whether Ning Cheng’s accumulation of wealth through lending fields to the poor should be interpreted as a sign of exploitation. Regardless, the fundamental reason for Ning Cheng’s local influence was surely not merely due to his material gains, but because his resources allowed the creation of a network of dependence in which Ning Cheng’s family was the central node. It is noteworthy that such local influence not only was unrelated to the holding of government posts but carried more weight than local officials’ (i.e. the imperial government’s) authority.

This situation could also have explained why, when Emperor Wu used government offices to encourage donations to state agencies, the wealthy in the beginning seemed to lack incentives to be co-opted. At this time, being a government official was apparently not an absolute necessity for cultivating local influence.

Han emperors paid increasing attention to the locally “powerful” precisely because of this symbiosis that clustered human and material resources and reputation under one figure or family. From the imperial perspective, these “powerful” doubtlessly were major contenders for resources and authority against government establishments in local communities. To declare the supremacy of imperial authority,

Emperor Jing transferred daring court officials to local posts for persecuting those who overpowered government bureaucrats in the area. The documented locally “powerful” who were wiped out happened to be both based in East of the Passes.71 When Emperor

Wu promoted “competent” prosecutors that prepared the road for crushing contenders for resources, these “powerful” families unavoidably became the first target at the

70 Shi ji 122, pp. 3134-3135. 71 Shi ji 122, p. 3133; 124, p. 3184.

173 local level. For instance, around the time Emperor Wu’s financial experiments started, the new governor of Nanyang Commandery, whose name was Yi Zong 義縱, destroyed Ning Cheng’s entire family through legal coercion.72 It is conceivable that those who had been dependent on the Ning family all lost their source of survival and had to look for a new one. If no alternative shelter existed, they could have been in serious trouble.

Local officials’ aggressive imposition of these policies probably transformed imperial rivalry over local authority and resources into the unexpected destruction of local support mechanisms. The intertwined operation of new economic policies and legal coercion resulted in an indiscriminate, extensive elimination of those who possessed enough resources to provide assistance in local communities. Many

“competent” prosecutors documented in Shi ji thrived in their government careers during the era of financial experiments. Some received imperial admiration for effective governing precisely due to their relentless convicting and killing of uncooperative groups in their jurisdiction, especially the locally “powerful”. For example, when an official named Wang Wenshu 王溫舒 served as a governor in Henei

Commandery 河內郡, over 1,000 households were implicated in the process of his prosecution against the locally powerful. Those convicted were all sentenced to death.

Some even had their entire family wiped out, and their wealth was also confiscated. It was asserted that when he carried out the sentence, “blood flowed more than 10 li 至

流血十餘里.” As Emperor Wu admired Wang Wenshu’s impressive performance in

72 Shi ji 122, p. 3145.

174 reducing local communities to obedience and silence, such violent approaches became the model replicated by local officials who intended to pursue effective governing.73 It is important to note that hidden under this aggressive suppression of the locally

“powerful” was the much larger number of poor people who had been dependent on these wealthy families. When so many locally “powerful” were wiped out at the same time, it would be more difficult for those who lost their source of survival to find an alternative.

When these non-state resource centers were destroyed, no sign indicates that the

Han court or local governments used the confiscated wealth to create institutional mechanisms for filling this vacuum of local community support. The caring rhetoric in imperial edicts about helping the poor and weak or exempting them from taxation should not be taken as proof of active and consistent state support of local communities. For instance, after the financial experiments started, Emperor Wu issued an edict in 117 B.C.E., claiming that six imperial emissaries were sent to “visit and inquire about [the conditions of] widowers, widows, the disabled, and the sick. For

[those ] unable to provide for themselves a livelihood, [the government shall] give aid to them. 存問鰥寡廢疾。無以自振業者，貸與之.”74 But the actual focus of these imperial emissaries’s tasks was investigating rampant “illegal” minting that was outlawed two years earlier. Their main job was to “report [the offenses] of those who annexed [others’ property], and of governors, and ministers who connived for profit.

73 Shi ji 122, p. 3148 and p. 3151. 74 Han shu 6, p. 180.

175

舉兼并之徒，守、相為利者.”75 That is to say, the Han court interpreted the problem of widespread resistance to new economic policies as local officials’ reluctance, not incapacity, to prosecute the massive number of violators. As these imperial emissaries were to pressure local officials for more aggressive imposition of imperial policies, helping the poor and weak was an incidental action at best. Even in the case of the few edicts about exempting people from taxation and granting oxen and wine to local communities, the beneficiaries were very limited in spatial scope. For instance, the edict in 110 B.C.E. only benefited people in five counties that happened to be on the route of the imperial journey to Mountain Tai.76 The imperial government at this time seemed to confine its role to extracting resources and did not demonstrate any policies to replace the non-state mechanisms for local community support that had been destroyed.

Given the situation demonstrated above, the impoverished people in East of the

Passes seemed to have fewer and fewer options for survival, while the Han court restructured economic relations across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. No new actors seemed to replace as nodes of community support networks the “powerful” who had been eliminated. In these circumastances the impoverished people mainly had two options. They either wandered about to look for survival opportunities, or seized resources through violent means from the largest owner, that is, imperial establishments in local communities. In this sense, imperial power-building in East

Eurasia not only furthered the intended imperial re-structuring of economic relations

75 Shi ji 30, p. 1433. 76 Han shu 6, p. 191.

176 across the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, but also generated unintended damage to social support mechanisms. As Emperor Wu had to wage “war” in his later reign not merely in foreign lands but also in Han-governed areas, this was a warning sign to the

Han court that the imperial state could have collapsed at anytime, as in the case of the short-lived Qin Empire. But this did not happen. The different fate had to do with a sudden turn in imperial approaches to power-building that will be discussed in the following sections.

(2) Bureaucratic Resistance to Extreme Disciplinary Measures

Widespread “bandit” activities signaled that Han-controlled communities had been driven to their socioeconomic limit, and had begun opting out of the imperial system through violent means. Nonetheless, the Han court continued to impose coercive measures on the governed, including both government officials and ordinary subjects. Only after several bureaucrats from different government sectors withdrew their cooperation did the emperor understand the need for a change of imperial approaches to power-building. Bureaucratic resistance took at least two forms. One was a deliberate refusal to carry out imperial policies. The other was to entirely break their relations with the Han court either by abandoning their government posts or by switching their allegiance to foreign rulers.

The imperial over-reliance on legal coercion alienated not only its targets but also government officials who were supposed to carry out imperial policies. In particular, as conflicts escalated between the Han court and communities in East of the Passes, local bureaucrats were caught in the middle. On the one hand, these officials were

177 bandits’ targets, for they were the on-site government confiscators of local resources.

On the other hand, they were under much pressure from the Han court to perfectly carry out imperial policies. Such pressure peaked when in 99 B.C.E. Emperor Wu initiated state-level military suppression of bandits. The imperial emissaries who were dispatched were not merely to coordinate local officials for integrated military operations, but were authorized to behead local officials who failed to achieve the expected outcomes in bandit suppression.

Decapitation of local officials was so common that when one imperial emissary decided not to kill a bureaucrat, this case was considered worth recording. Bao

Shengzhi 暴勝之, the imperial emissary in question, was dispatched to the areas near the Bohai Gulf for bandit suppression. When he was about to decapitate a county magistrate, this bureaucrat negotiated on the scaffold and was eventually released, for

Bao Shengzhi admired his courage.77 This case was documented most likely due to its rarity, as Bao Shengzhi and other imperial emissaries were known for their willingness to persecute whoever undermined imperial initiatives against bandits. It was said that

“[these imperial emissaries] cut off heads in great numbers, sometimes as many as over 10,000 [in one time. They also] used the law to kill [those who] provided drink and food [to bandits]. The people implicated [in this crime] extended across many commanderies. In extreme cases, several thousands of people [were implicated in one trial]. 斬首大部或至萬餘級，及以法誅通飲食，坐連諸郡，甚者數千人.”78 With killing on such an extensive scale, the imperial “war” was no longer merely against

77 Han shu 66, p. 2887. 78 Shi ji 122, p. 3151; Han shu 98, p. 4013.

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“bandits”, but againt all local communities in East of the Passes.

But not all imperial emissaries were willing to be the means through which

Emperor Wu applied pressure on local bureaucrats and communities for a total surrender to imperial demands. While the emperor relied on legal coercion to achieve expectations, one exceptional emissary named Wang He 王賀 expressed his disappoval of such approach by letting many prosecution targets stay alive. This imperial emissary was documented precisely for his anomalous lenience, compared to others like Bao Shengzhi who killed massive numbers of bandits, people who were implicated, and local officials who were described as “timid, weak, and tardy 畏懦逗

遛” in performing the tasks of suppression. Wang He lost his government career for resisting imperial expectations that required extensive killing.79 Those emissaries who did not wish to be dismissed had no choice but to put imperial orders to practice.

Nonetheless, Wang He’s action suggested a deliberate withdrawal from the functioning of contemporary imperial practice. Moreover, his reluctance to kill the targets of suppression indicated that he did not see in these people any criminality that deserved a death penalty. It hinted that “convicts”—be they local officials or ordinary subjects—could have been merely those who were driven to desperation by poorly conceived imperial initiatives.

This uncooperative emissary was not an isolated case. Bureaucrats of all ranks even actively withdrew their service from the Han court when disciplinary pressures reached the level of indiscriminate life-taking. Although we do not have contemporary officials’ opinions about the imperial shaping of bureaucratic behavior through legal

79 Han shu 98, pp. 4103-4104.

179 coercion, their actions are clear enough. Even before Emperor Wu dispatched emissaries in 99 B.C.E. to further pressure local officials, imperial prosecution of bureaucrats had been reinforced to such a degree that some decided to abandon their posts. This happened especially when Du Zhou 杜周 served as the Commandant of

Justice 廷尉 from 109 B.C.E. to 99 B.C.E. Under his watch, the number of top officials in prison never fell below 100. Every year he handled over 1,000 cases that involved central and local bureaucrats. The accused were beaten until forced into confession. As no form of appeal seemed possible under this condition, “[those who] heard that they were to be arrested all went into hiding 聞有逮者皆亡匿”.80

Bureaucrats who held onto their posts were no more lucky than those who either ran away or were thrown into prison. Emperor Wu imposed further pressures on officials for the total elimination of bandits by issuing one more disciplinary measure called “the Law against Concealment 沉命法”. It declared that all responsible officials from 2,000-bushels down were to be executed if they failed to report the presence of bandits or to arrest all the reported bandits. That is to say, any official could potentially be implicated in capital punishment for even a single escaped bandit. This law in itself demonstrates that the Han court was so desperate in handling social uprisings that it put the people who constituted its foundation under threats of death. But it also became the last straw that tipped the bureaucrats into uncooperative silence. For fear of getting themselves into trouble, both higher and lower officials refused to report the presence of bandits in their jurisdictions, consequently undermining the progress of

80 Shi ji 122, p. 3153; Han shu 19b, pp. 781-785.

180 imperial suppression of widespread resistance.81

Extreme disciplinary measures also alienated bureaucrats dealing with frontier affairs to the extent that even military commanders began to look for alternatives to continuing their service to the Han court. Over the reign of Emperor Wu, combatants in frontier warfare were subject to ever-stricter disciplinary measures. Early hints appeared in changes in how commanders were treated after a failed military operation.

Until frontier warfare was re-opened on multiple fronts around 112 B.C.E., there had been no documented case of Han emperors sentencing frontier officials or major generals to death without permitting redemption. For example, from the times of

Emperors Wen and Jing to the early reign of Emperor Wu, battles with the Xiongnu had been the only cause for frontier governors and commandants to die at their posts.

No sign suggested that top frontier officials were killed by the Han court for their tactical decisions.82 In the first decade of Han-Xiongnu warfare, generals who lost battles were allowed to redeem their death penalty, and were constantly brought back to office to lead further expeditions. Nevertheless, the tightened imperial discipline of the bureaucratic machine began to produce unexpected reactions from military commanders. In 119 B.C.E., a renowned senior general Li Guang 李廣, who started his government service in the reign of Emperor Jing, decided to commit suicide before his second trial for a failed military maneuver, mainly due to his reluctance to experience again the tedious and humiliating investigation procedures.83 His refusal to

81 Shi ji 122, p. 3151. 82 At least five incidents were documented regarding top frontier officials’ deaths, all having to do with fighting Xiongnu forces in commanderies along the southern edge of the steppe. See Shi ji 10, p. 428; 110, p. 2901, p. 2907; 111, p. 2924, p. 2926; Han shu 5, p. 151; 6, p. 169 and pp. 171-172. 83 Leading generals such as Li Guang 李廣, Gongsun Ao 公孫敖, Zhang Qian 張騫, Zhao Yiji 趙食其,

181 go through the trial process for a chance of redemption suggests that disciplinary measures against military commanders had become so highly elaborated that a veteran general found them unbearable.

Only in a few years after Li Guang’s suicide, even the option of redemption seemed to be gradually disappearing. To ensure military intimidation of foreign polities, the Han court began to actually kill its own commanders for any failure in conducting expected maneuvers. The first case was in 111 B.C.E., when two imperial emissaries were put to death for being “timid and weak 畏懦” in their reluctance to attack the Viets to the south of the Yangtze River regions.84 Another case was the warfare in the north of the Korean peninsula in 108 B.C.E. Despite the successful conquest, the Han court still sentenced to death two chief generals and the governor of

Ji’nan Commandery 濟南郡 for their lack of cooperation during military operations.

Only one of the two chief generals, who was among Emperor Wu’s favorite

“competent” prosecutors, redeemed himself from the death penalty. The other two officials were both put to death without redemption.85 In 98 B.C.E., even the governor of Yanmen Commandery 鴈門郡 in the Yellow River loop was killed by imperial command for his “timid and weak” performance in fighting Xiongnu forces.86 Death threats apparently became a crucial means for the Han court to pressure commanders and frontier officials for desired military results.

Higher military commanders were not the only group under imperial pressure. and Su Jian 蘇建 all had been tried for unsuccessful military maneuvers and redeemed their death penalty. See Shi ji 109, p. 2871, p. 2873, p. 2876; 110, p. 2906, p. 2909; 111, p. 2923, p. 2928, pp. 2930- 2931, p. 2936, p. 2942, and p. 2944. 84 Shi ji 114, p. 2982. 85 Shi ji 111, p. 2945; 115, pp. 2988-2990; 122, p. 3149. 86 Han shu 6, p. 204.

182

Soldiers were also subjected to extreme disciplinary measures to make them into a means for intimidating foreign polities. One revealing case was the long-distance expeditions against Dayuan from 104 B.C.E., in which Emperor Wu would not allow the Han armies to return until they accomplished the assigned tasks—bringing back high-quality horses. In the first attempt, the Han armies barely reached Yucheng 郁成 to the east of Dayuan after one year of exhausting travel across the Tarim Basin. Even worse, only a few thousands of the 6,000 cavalrymen and several tens of thousands of convicts survived this long trip. Noting the severe losses of his fighting forces, the chief general Li Guangli 李廣利 decided to take the starving troops home without attacking Dayuan. But the furious emperor sent an imperial emissary to block the returning troops outside the Jade Gate Pass 玉門關, the westernmost base of the Han, and mandated that “[any of] the troops that dare to enter [the pass] shall be beheaded

軍有敢入者，輒斬之”. Under threat of death, Li Guangli had no choice but to wait in

Dunhuang Commandery 敦煌郡 for the arrival of newly mobilized resources that included 60,000 troops along with 100,000 oxen, 30,000 horses, and tens of thousands of donkeys and camels for carrying provision and weapons. Emperor Wu not only forbade the exhausted troops to return, but also punished court officials who suggested abandoning the second attempt against Dayuan.87 With imperial pressure expressed in such forms, Li Guangli and the Han troops were given highly limited options. They either pressed into the Tarim Basin, gaining a chance to accomplish their assigned tasks, or waited to be killed by imperial disciplinary orders. Granted that the Han

87 Shi ji 123, pp. 3175-3176.

183 troops were indeed forced into successfully intimidating this polity in the Tarim Basin, this case also demonstrates the extreme level of disciplinary control that combatants of all ranks were experiencing at this point.

In this context Han troops began to opt out of the imperial system by switching their allegiance to the Xiongnu chanyu. The warfare in 103 B.C.E. that re-opened the state-level military confrontation between the two polities witnessed an unprecedented surrender of the entire Han army to the Xiongnu. This war was initiated by a failed plot between a lesser Xiongnu leader and the Han court to assassinate the chanyu.

When the chanyu discovered the plot and executed this lesser Xiongnu leader, the more than 20,000 cavalry that Emperor Wu sent into the steppe to assist came under fierce attack. When the chief general was captured, the minor commanders of the Han troops opted to defect to the Xiongnu for the following reason: “all of us, down to the rank of colonel, were afraid that we would be executed for the loss of the general. Let us not persuade each other to return. 及諸校尉畏亡將軍而誅之，莫相勸歸.”88

Regardless of how precise these documented words were, the truly unusual aspect of this incident was that many minor commanders and their subordinates reached such a consensus. Neither a subordinate king nor a general made this decision for them. The lack of disagreement regarding a total surrender suggests that disciplinary measures on combatants had reached to such an unbearable level that all these cavalrymen would rather break away entirely from the Han.

Although we have no way to know what happened to these cavalrymen after this incident, records indicate that they were not the only group who switched allegiance.

88 Shi ji 110, p. 2915.

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Of the documented Han commanders and imperial emissaries who sought out the chanyu’s protection, they were all integrated into the politico-military structure of the

Xiongnu. A former Han commandant named Li Xu 李緒 was appointed to train the chanyu’s troops. In the case of another surrendered commandant Li Ling 李陵, the chanyu appreciated his talent and courage so much that he married a daughter to him.

In addition, Li Ling and a former Han emissary named Wei Lü 衛律 became highly trusted advisors of the chanyu and major commanders for fighting Han forces. Both defected precisely due to much heightened disciplinary measures imposed on imperial bureaucrats. Wei Lü refused to return to the Han court after his mission to the

Xiongnu for fear of being implicated in his recommender’s crimes. Li Ling began to lead Xiongnu forces against the Han after Emperor Wu wiped out his entire family due to a false rumor.89 Even the much trusted general Li Guangli, who led 70,000 troops to fight Xiongnu forces in 90 B.C.E., switched allegiance to the chanyu. Li Guangli apparently saw a high probability that he would be put to death by Emperor Wu because of either his poor military performance or his being implicated in a sorcery crime that started in 92 B.C.E.90

It is undeniable that tightened disciplinary measures did modify bureaucratic behavior to advance imperial interests. Nonetheless, as demonstraed above, the Han

89 Han shu 54, p. 2457; 94a, p. 3779. 90 Han shu 6, p. 209; 39, p. 2973; 61, p. 2704; 94a, pp. 3778-3780. The sorcery crime essentially had to do with disputes between political cliques over the imperial succession and cost the lives of the empress, heir apparent, and many top officials and generals. For detailed analyses, see Poo, Mu-chou [Poo Muzhou] 蒲慕州, “Wuguzhihuo de zhengzhi yiyi 巫蠱之禍的政治意義” and Lao, Kan [Lao Gan] 勞榦, “Dui Wuguzhihuo de zhengzhi yiyi de kanfa 對於巫蠱之禍的政治意義的看法,” both in Zhongyang yanjiuyuan Lishi yu yuyan yanjiusuo jikan 57:3 (1986), pp. 511-537 and pp. 539-551; Tian Yuqin 田余庆, “Lun Luntai zhao 论轮台诏,” in Qin-Han Wei-Jin shi tanwei 秦漢魏晉史探微 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 2004), pp. 30-62.

185 court’s extensive use of legal coercion failed to tranform constituents of the bureaucratic machine into simple tools for projecting the imperial will on Han- controlled communities and foreign polities. Contrary to imperial expectations, attempts at total dominance of bureaucratic behavior provoked resistance, severing the emperor’s relations with government officials of all ranks and sectors. Uncooperative actions among bureaucrats culminated in a massive loss of Han troops and a top general’s switching of allegiance to the Xiongnu chanyu in 90 B.C.E. Not long after this incident, Emepror Wu issued a long edict to officially declare a halt to expansionary warfare and related infrastructural construction projects on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, opening the path for subsequent emperors to make changes in imperial approaches to power building in the larger political landscape of East

Eurasia.91

(3) Alternative Approaches to Enhancing Imperial Power-building

One noticeable change after the last Han-Xiongnu combat toward the end of

Emperor Wu’s reign in 90 B.C.E. was for almost two decades a total halt to long- distance Han expeditions deep into the steppe and the Tarim Basin. Although the Han court ended its restraint in using military forces with an allied expedition with the

Wusun against the Xiongnu in 72 B.C.E., this warfare was essentially the last that required massive mobilization, sending 150,000 troops from East of the Passes into the steppe.92 After this long-distance warfare in 72 B.C.E., the Han court ceased to

91 Han shu 66b, pp. 3912-3914. For a detailed analysis of the historical significance of this edict, see Tian Yuqin. 92 Han shu 8, pp. 243-244; 64a, p. 3785.

186 conduct military mobilization that required a huge amount of resources to be transported directly from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to far-flung lands.

However, as will be analyzed in this section, calling a halt to large-scale military mobilization in Han-controlled areas did not mean that successors of Emperor Wu abandoned imperial ambitions on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. On the contrary, the Han court continued to vie with higher political elites in East Eurasia for supreme leadership. What the halt signified was a process of retooling power-building strategies so as to allow the imperial court to draw new groups into the Han-centered networks without damaging its relations with old groups that had been under imperial control. Before we discuss in detail the re-prioritized imperial strategies, let us begin with the immediate effect of a two-decade halt to long-distance military expeditions— restoring imperial relations with communities in the Han-controlled areas.

Simply by stopping warfare-related expenditure, not only could the Han court loosen the pressure on both bureaucrats and ordinary subjects for resource extraction, but government-controlled resources could be released from military purposes for other uses. One such use was to fill the vacuum of community support at the local level through government expenditures, especially when natural disasters occurred.

Standard imperial methods after Emperor Wu included state-level lending of resources and tax exemption. Only two years into the reign of Emperor Zhao, the successor of

Emperor Wu, we see in 85 B.C.E. the first case of state-organized lending seeds and provisions to the poor. All subjects were also exempted from farm taxes for that year.93

When a severe drought hit in 71 B.C.E., right after the start of the allied expedition

93 Han shu 7, p. 220.

187 with the Wusun, the Han court immediately granted a tax exemption to drought- stricken communities. Two years later all local governments were further ordered to lend farmland to the poor.94 These types of integrated assistance to the impoverished were unheard of in Emperor Wu’s reign. Although it is difficult to tell whether these new policies were effectively and evenly imposed across the Han-controlled areas, at least the imperial court tried to initiate comprehensive relief projects.

Imperial attention also turned to the lingering problem of vagrants and bandits, the break-aways from the Han order. To reduce the number of vagrants, in 67 B.C.E. the Han court ordered the lending of government-owned fields, seeds, and provisions specifically to encourage vagrants to return home and settle down. Although not openly stated, government subsidies essentially functioned as a lure to persuade vagrants to be documented by local offices, consequenly being placed under state surveillance. In particular, Emperor Xuan used three officials to encourage bureaucratic behavior that brought more people back under imperial control. The emperor rewarded Wang Cheng 王成, a minister of a subordinate state in East of

Passes, for attracting more than 80,000 vagrants to register themselves. Huang Ba 黃

霸, a commandery governor also in East of the Passes, was transferred to be the

Governor of the Imperial Capital 京兆尹 as a reward for steadily increasing registered households in his jurisdiction. When Gong Sui 龔遂 was appointed to handle the bandit problems in Bohai Commandery 渤海郡, he possessed full authority granted by the emperor to liberate all county bureaucrats from the arduous task of arresting

94 Han shu 8, p. 244 and p. 246.

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“bandits,” who were most likely desperate victims of widespread famine in the area.

This approach almost magically eliminated the “bandit” problem in the area.95 This case suggests that a mere halt to pressure on local officials to attack “bandits” sufficed to release the tension between imperial representative and local communities.

To prevent the scale of vagrants and bandits from developing back to that of

Emperor Wu’s time, later emperors continued to enhance state-level relief assistance when major calamities occurred. The varieties of government support also developed along the way. When huge floods hit East of Passes in 49 B.C.E. and caused severe famine, the imperial court promptly put forth integrated relief efforts, transporting grain and cash to flood-stricken commanderies from neighboring ones.96 In 29 B.C.E. when the Yellow River flooded four commanderies, not only did the Han court organize a comprehensive supply of relief resources but also mobilzed 500 ships to move more than 97,000 victims to hilly lands. As the Yellow River continued to cause major floods in the following years, in 25 B.C.E. there was even an imperial demand that local governments should provide caskets and cash for impoverished victims to bury their dead.97

Through redefining the role of the imperial government from that of a mere confiscator to that of a re-distributor of resources, the Han state indeed avoided a total collapse from inside. But it is worth noting that its two-decade pause in long-distance expeditions after 90 B.C.E. not only allowed the Han court to pay more attention to recovering its damaged relations with the governed, but also signaled a corresponding

95 Han shu 8, pp. 248-249; 89, p. 3627, p. 3631, and p. 3639. 96 Han shu 9, p. 280. 97 Han shu 10, pp. 310-311; 29, p. 1688.

189 transition in Han approaches to interacting with foreign polities. The aforementioned activities such as state-level relief assistance or tax exemption were fundamentally for the Han court to increase the level of reciprocity with the governed in the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions by releasing more extracted resources back for enhancing community survival. In the meantime, this amplified reciprocity also meant that the

Han court had to forgo the option of draining its officials and subjects’ blood to the last drop for supreme imperial dominance in far-flung lands. Nonetheless, we should not conclude that successors of Emperor Wu abandoned ambitions for imperial power- building in East Eurasia. Quite the contrary, refraining from military mobilization was paralleled by reworking the existing institutional and infrastructural foundations within and beyond the northwest frontier zones. By consolidating ties with new participants of the Han-centered systems, the imperial court gained the options of mobilizing on-site resource for affairs on the steppe and in the Tarin Basin, reducing its dependence on supplies transported from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

Put another way, later emperors in essence oversaw a long process of reorganizing the distribution pattern of state-controlled resources that reduced the scale of Han subjects’ direct involvement in imperial power-building on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. The key was to take advantage of the expanded Han sphere of influence. By the end of Emperor Wu’s reign, the imperial court was connected to old and new groups across East Eurasia through three major binding modes—registered subjects that had long been under direct control of Han commanderies and subordinate states, recently “surrendered” foreign groups that were loosely supervised in the form of “affiliated states”, and newly-encountered foreign polities that joined the alliance

190 network of the Han state.98 The presence of these fresh resource-suppliers offered a specific advantage for the imperial court to exploit—location. As mentioned in previous chapter, surrendered “affiliated states” were deployed to frontier commanderies in the Yellow River loop and the Hexi Corridor, and allied states of the

Han were all in the Tarim Basin. State-controlled resources would be more efficiently spent if the Han court could exert imperial influence through collaborative groups that were already in or near the targeted regions. But this goal required their stable cooperation with Han maneuvers. Two imperial approaches for achieving this goal are discussed below and in Chapter 4. First, with growing imperial knowledge about power dynamics on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, the Han court actively manipulated allied rulers’ succession for maintaining a pro-Han political landscape in

East Eurasia when circumstances allowed. The second approach, which will be elaborated in detail in Chapter 4, was to consolidate Han control in the newly acquired

Hexi Corridor area so that the efficacy of the first approach would not be undermined.

But before we move on to analyze the first approach, it is important to re-emphasize that the Han court did not “rule” polities in the Tarim Basin. It was precisely due to the autonomy of these states that the Han court had to deploy more complex strategies to manipulate political dynamics in the region than simply sending an imperial order.

A simple comparison with affiliated states could make clear that allied polities in

98 The differences in administrative structure and intensity of control between commanderies and affiliated states have been well studied and will not be discussed here. For a general analysis about the characteristics of affiliated states, see Yen Keng-wang (1997), pp. 157-160. In addition, although the focus is on the period of the Later Han, Peng Jianying’s article provides a detailed introduction about the dual administrative system of Han-appointed supervisors and original foreign leaders that characterized affiliated states. See Peng Jianying 彭建英, “Dong Han bijun shuguo fei junxianhua luelun 东汉比郡属国非郡县化略论,” Minzu yanjiu 5 (2000), pp. 66-70.

191 the Tarim Basin were entirely beyond the Han state structure and not obliged to take direct orders from the Han court. The key difference lay in the level of predictability in the action of “surrendered” steppe groups and allied polities in the Tarim Basin. As has been well studied in scholarship, even affiliated states that were incorporated as part of the Han state structure were not placed under the ordinary imperial governing system.

While deployed to frontier commanderies, “surrendered” foreign leaders and their subordinates were not controlled by commanderies governors and commandants.

Instead, the Han court appointed special commandants to loosely supervise

“surrendered” foreign groups. Given these different modes of imperial control between commanderies and affiliated states, “surrendered” foreign leaders’ cooperation seemed to be steady enough to become indispensible fighting forces in long-distance Han expeditions. For instance, the earliest imperial military advance into the east side of the Tarim Basin already combined troops of both affiliated-states and commanderies. In the four-year expeditions against Dayuan since 104 B.C.E., affiliated states’ cavalry must have taken the responsibility of core attack forces, as the rest of the Han troops were composed of convicts from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions who apparently lacked experience and knowledge to fight effectively in the terrain of the Tarim Basin.99

Although the Han army’s size kept expanding and even peaked at 210,000 troops in the steppe expedition of 97 B.C.E., the cavalry supplied by affiliated states still served as key combatants of long-distance expeditions. One example was the Han-

Xiongnu warfare in 90 B.C.E. Granted that the entire war ended as a major failure due

99 Shi ji 123, p. 3171, p. 3174 and p. 3176.

192 to Li Guangli’s miscalculated operations in the later stage, affiliated states’ cavalry opened up the expedition with victorious combats against Xiongnu forces on the steppe.100 Even during the nearly two-decade halt of long-distance expeditions between 90 B.C.E. and 72 B.C.E., affiliated states contributed to enhancing Han presence in the recently acquired Hexi Corridor area. When in 79 B.C.E. the Xiongnu tried to recapture control over this area, affiliated states’ cavalry in the Hexi Corridor killed one major steppe leader, stopping future Xiongnu attempts to retake thid area.101

It would not be an exaggeration to say that affiliated states’ consistent cooperation with Han military maneuvers both consolidated Han presence in the Yellow River loop and the Hexi Corridor and helped to wield imperial pressure and intimidation on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin.

The predictability of collaboration from polities in the Tarim Basin was an entirely different story. By sending princess-wives to the Wusun king and taking prince-hostages from multiple polities in the Tarim Basin, the Han court built a brand new interstate network system that was facilitated through the traffic in royal family members. But it is necessary to be clear that the sending of prince-hostages to the Han was not a gesture of “surrender” but alliance, albeit the inherent power relations might be asymmetrical. Unlike “affiliated states,” actions of these polities’ rulers demonstrated no sign that they considered themselves obliged to obey the emperor’s orders. Their cooperative activities with the Han were at best to perform mutual support between allied states. When imperial interests did not correspond with their own, these polities were more than willing to withdraw their collaboration,

100 Han shu 6, p. 205; 94a, pp. 377-3780. 101 Han shu 94a, p. 3783.

193 consequently creating many unpredictable factors for Han maneuvers.

Loulan’s interaction with both the Han and the Xiongnu is a case in point.

Emperor Wu was quick in exploiting allied states’ locational advantage for reinforcing

Han military operations against the Xiongnu. In the warfare of 99 B.C.E., the Han court attempted to undermine Xiongnu maneuvers by mobilizing troops of Loulan, its allied polity in the east end of Tarim Basin, to attacking Cheshi 車師, an ally of the

Xiongnu in the northeastern corner of the Tarim Basin. Although Loulan cooperated, this first experiment was not successful. The same method was tried again in the expedition of 90 B.C.E. This time the Han court sent back prince-hostages of Loulan and another five states in the eastern side of Tarim Basin to mobilize troops in their home countries for coordinated military operations with the Han army. Under such coercion, Cheshi was eventually intimidated into switching its alliance to the Han, although the Han army lost its main battles on the steppe to the Xiongnu.102

Nonetheless, after Loulan established the new king who had been in the Xiongnu as prince-hostage, not only did Loulan’s collaboration with the Han stop, but the new king began to assist the Xiongnu in deterring Han communication with polities in the

Tarim Basin. This change of Loulan’s interactions with the Han suggests two things.

First, while in a weaker position in interstate relations, Loulan was not taking direct orders from either the Han or the Xiongnu. The Loulan king was the one who decided with which power to collaborate more—generally the one with which he had more intimate ties and thus could exploit for securing his own political influence. Second, while the Xiongnu actively used prince-hostages for manipulating the Loulan king’s

102 Han shu 96b, p. 3913 and p. 3922.

194 succession, by the end of Emperor Wu’s reign the Han had not begun to use the same method for alliance-building. But the Xiongnu’s action apparently reminded the Han court of the significance of actively securing a pro-Han king in allied polities. During the two-dacade halt of long-distance expeditions, the Han court opted for sending an imperial emissary to Loulan, assassinating the pro-Xiongnu king, and establishing his pro-Han brother.103 This incident could be considered the opening of active Han manipulation of allied rulers’ succession to extend its influence into the Tarim Basin.

In order to be more effective in altering the political dynamics in East Eurasia to imperial advantage, the Han court not only began to manipilate foreign rulers’ succession, but also paid more attention to intelligence activities. The beginnings of this new emphasis could be found in the imperial decision to launch a long-distance

Han expedition into the steppe in 72 B.C.E. after nearly two decades of refraining from military mobilization. At first glance, this war seemed to be a matter of military assistance upon the request of the allied Wusun king and his Han princess-wife that resulted in a massive joint operation of 150,000 Han troops from the Yellow River region and 50,000 Wusun troops on the steppe.104 But this expedition was different in many ways from those in Emperor Wu’s reign. Let us start with two most obvious but less significant differences. First, instead of direct confrontation against the Xiongnu, this time the Han court took advantage of the conflicts between the Wusun and the

Xiongnu to weaken Xiongnu influence on the steppe. This allowed the Han emperor to claim the role of assistant rather than initiator of the war, although the size of mobilized Han army was by no means smaller than that in Emperor Wu’s reign.

103 Han shu 96a, pp. 3877-3878. 104 Han shu 8, pp. 243-244; 94a, p. 3785; 96b, p. 3905.

195

Second, despite imperial ambition, both the Han and the Xiongnu forces seemed reluctant to engage in battle. The 50,000 Wusun troops ended being the only ones that actually fought the war. The Xiongnu manifested absolutely no intention or preparedness to battle Han troops. As the Xiongnu populations retreated deep into the steppe while the Han forces advanced, the result was an extremely low-intensity confrontation between the two. Given that the Han army still killed and captured a few hundred steppe people and took some tens of thousands of cattles as booty, these were probably people left behind to cover the retreat and abandoned animals. On the Han side, upon learning of the Xiongnu retreat, one of the five Han generals decided to return without joining with the Wusun forces. Another general even refused to launch attacks after some Han emissaries in the Xiongnu informed him of the steppe populations’ locations. After returning to the Han court, the latter general was prosecuted for being “tardy and not advancing 逗遛不進” and ended up commiting suicide.105 But the two generals’ reluctance to aggressively pursue steppe populations indicates a clear lack of interest in further exploiting their own troops for achievements in battle.

The third and truly critical difference was hidden behind this Han expedition into the steppe—a gradual transition toward diplomatic manipulation for enhancing Han influence on foreign polities without reliance on enormous supplies from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. It is unfortunate that no direct evidence informs us as to why the Han court decided to initiate such large-scale mobilization to “help” the

Wusun. But some signs hint that the incentive could have been the Han court’s

105 Han shu 70, p. 3004; 94a, pp. 3785-3786; 96b, p. 3905.

196 growing knowledge about political dynamics on the steppe that suggested the potential of launching long-distance warfare for one last time to fully end Xiongnu dominance in East Eurasia. In other words, this war was different in the sense that it was not a blind fight, but a carefully calculated move based on accumulated intelligence to exploit accidental circumstances on the steppe to increase imperial advantages.

Before the expedition of 72 B.C.E., the Han court had apparently gained substantial knowledge about internal political disputes among governing elites on the steppe, especially the chanyu’s succession controversies. One noticeable change in contemporary records about the Xiongnu was a sudden boom in detailed information regarding power struggles between top steppe elites. This boom in the Han court’s knowledge about steppe affairs corresponded with the chanyu’s decision to let go nine detained Han emissaries who had refused to switch their allegiance. Released emissaries such as Su Wu 蘇武, Ma Hong 馬宏, and their subordinates like Chang Hui

常惠 returned to the Han court in 81 B.C.E. But during their decades of detention by the Xiongnu, these emissaries not only engaged in political struggles among top steppe elites, but also on several occasions conversed with surrendered Han emissaries and combatants like Wei Lü and Li Ling. One can surmise that these released emissaries came back to the Han court with much more knowledge about power dynamics in the higher elite circle on the steppe. Particularly useful information must have been that the chanyu had lost support from some lesser steppe leaders in the process of succession controversies.106 Besides this newly gained knowledge, other factors could have also increased Han interest in coordinating with the Wusun against the Xiongnu.

106 Han shu 7, p. 223; 54, pp. 2460-2466; 94a, p. 3782.

197

One factor was the aforementioned failure of the Xiongnu’s attempts to retake the

Hexi Corridor. Another one was that, although Han governing elites were also going through a series of succession controversies at the time, by 73 B.C.E. challenges from resisting court officials and subordinate kings had generally been eliminated.107 These combined factors could have fed into imperial confidence that this mobilization would be the final state-level war that removed the Xiongnu from dominant status in East

Eurasia, if not entirely destroying it.

Given that this expedition of 72 B.C.E. provided little battlefield achievement for the Han court to boast of, it did further disturb the dynamics among steppe powers, consequently weakening the Xiongnu chanyu’s influence on the steppe. Not only did the Wusun rise to the status of the major steppe rival to the west of the Xiongnu, but other minor powers to the north and the east of the Xiongnu also began to openly challenge the chanyu’s dominance.108 While the Xiongnu were busy holding onto their dominant status on the steppe, the Han court began to harvest the advantages of marriage alliances with the Wusun.

The key lay in exploiting the Wusun king’s offspring from his Han princess-wife

Liu Jieyou 劉解憂 to manipulate succession decisions of foreign polities, thereby creating a pro-Han environment in the west side of the Tarim Basin. Liu Jieyou and her maid Feng Liao 馮嫽 also actively participated in this enterprise. When the Wusun king died, a prince from a Xiongnu princess-mother named Nimi 泥靡 was established as the new king. This decision based on the consensus of the Wusun’s governing elites

107 Han shu 7, p. 219, pp. 226-227; 63, pp.2751-2759; 68, pp. 2935-2936. 108 Han shu 94a, pp. 3786-3787.

198 provoked pressures both from the Han court and from Liu Jieyou. The Han court immediately abandoned the plan of sending a princess-wife to the new king, which was based on its mutual agreement with the former Wusun king to establish Liu

Jieyou’s first son. Liu Jieyou even plotted with Han emissaries among the Wusun to assassinate the new king. Feng Liao, who was married to the Wusun’s Great General of the Right and had been a trusted representative of the Han princess among governing elites in the west side of Tarim Basin, mobilized her influence to end the succession controversy. Liu Jieyou’s first son was eventually established as the major

Wusun king. And Feng Liao persuaded another Wusun prince from a Xiongnu princess-mother, who was strongly supported by governing elites of the Wusun, into collaborating with the Han proposal to be the minor Wusun king.109 This arrangement worked out probably because the minor king still maintained the Wusun’s connection with the Xiongnu while the Han court was satisfied with having the prince of Han origin be the major king. None of the three involved polities’ interest was fundamentally damaged.

Liu Jieyou’s other offspring were also used to spread Han influence both among the governing elites of the Wusun and in polities on the west side of the Tarim Basin.

Her third son took the position of the Wusun’s Great General of the Left, and her second daughter was married to a Wusun lord. Moreover, upon the request of nobles of Shache 莎車, a polity in the southwestern corner of Tarim Basin, her second son was established to be their new king. Furthermore, her first daughter was married to

109 Han shu 96b, pp. 3905-3907.

199 the king of Qiuci 龜茲, a state located in the middle-north of the Tarim Basin.110 But such deployment could effectively work for imperial interests only when governing elites of these polities allowed Han influence to penetrate through Liu Jieyou’s offspring and Han emissaries who travelled back and forth between the imperial court and the Tarim Basin. As will be demonstrated in Chapter 4, complex political dynamics on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin did not always permit the Han court to execute its diplomatic plans. Nonetheless, the imperial effort to build infrastructural foundations for facilitating diplomatic and military maneuvers contributed to enhance

Han influence. The administrative operations guaranteed more predictable communication between the Han court and foreign polities and provided a mechanism for socio-political groups effected by Han maneuvers to contest and bargain with either the Han court or government representatives.

110 Han shu 96a, p. 3897; 96b, p. 3904

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Chapter Four:

Power Dynamics in Interstate Networks of East Eurasia

Chapters 2 and 3 have demonstrated that after the four-year expedition against

Dayuan, the expanding Han influence beyond the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions provoked new dynamics in the long-established interstate web across the steppe and the Tarim Basin. The Han court not only integrated “surrendered” foreign groups into its state structure as affiliated states in the newly established frontier commanderies in the Yellow River loop and the Hexi Corridor, but also actively built its alliance network on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. In the meantime, Emperor Wu’s reliance on long-distance military expeditions had proved to be a self-destructive approach to power-building in East Eurasia. His successors thus turned to exploiting the locational advantages of frontier commanderies in the northwest and allied states in the Tarim Basin, thereby reducing imperial reliance on the long-distance transportation of human and material resources for military action on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. The first half of this chapter elaborates in further detail the processes through which the Han court consolidated the institutions and infrastructure in the

Hexi Corridor and the Tarim Basin that made possible maximizing Han influence in far-flung lands. The later half of the chapter analyzes the functioning of these institutions that served as a platform for negotiating and contesting power relations both at the continental and at the local levels.

201

Infrastructural Background

This part discusses the ways in which the Han court consolidated its alliance network in the Tarim Basin and newly established commanderies in the Hexi Corridor to heighten its ability to attract more socio-political groups to join and stay in Han- contructed systems. The first section explicates the role the Han court played in foreign polities and governing elites’ power-building strategies. In addition, it details

Han manipulation of interstate politics and internal disputes of foreign polities to create a relatively stable alliance infrastructure. The increased number of cooperative states contributed to increasing the stability of the Han alliance network, for fewer polities impeded Han communication with allies while more joined Han military operations on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. The second section analyzes the administrative foundation established by the Han in the Hexi Corridor that both enhanced the existence of this infrastructure and facilitated Han interactions with allies on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. In particular, the meticulous administrative documentation of human, material, and animal flows demonstrated imperial attempts to ensure the proper functioning of this foundation that enabled Han maneuvers in far- flung lands.

(1) Collaboration for Mutual Power-Building in Pan-East Eurasian Elite

Networks

Contemporary Han records tend to project a simplistic impression that the imperial court of the first century B.C.E. was capable of demanding ruling houses on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin to act for Han interests. “Rebels” were properly

202 punished or expelled. But with a specific focus on the actual interaction between states, regardless of how Han elites interpreted events, it is clear that the political landscape of East Eurasia was far more complex and dynamic than contemporary Han elites portrayed. At least, as contemporary Han records show that the imperial court frequently used military violence to coerce foreign governing elites in the two regions into cooperation, and at times only barely succeeded, such “disobedience” needs an explanation.

As will be analyzed below, the key factor in political dynamics on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin was the existence of multiple alliance options. Allying with the Han court was neither the only nor always the best option for governing elites in the two regions. Depending on the political situation, they marshalled all available alliance options as part of their own power-building strategies. Han maneuvers in the Tarim

Basin were effective only when imperial interests corresponded with those of its allies.

In other words, both the Han and its allied states were participating in a process of mutual assistance for expanding each other’s influence in the political landscape of

East Eurasia. When cooperating with the Han court ceased to be a promising strategy for power-building or survival maintenance, governing elites on the steppe and in the

Tarim Basin always had other options. Precisely for this reason, the Han court had to take initiatives to increase its allies’ dependence on Han support, consequently ensuring more reliable collaboration with them. The constant struggles of the Han court seem to have culminated in relatively stable alliance with polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. It was not until the decision-making process of the Han court was controlled by Wang Mang, who was obsessed with turning theoretical imperial

203 ideologies into political reality across East Eurasia, that this fragile balance was destroyed in the late first century C.E.

The Han expansion was in itself one key factor that complicated power dynamics in the long-connected political elite networks of the steppe and the Tarim Basin. The existence of an aggressive new participant unavoidably provoked all governing elites across East Eurasia to re-negotiate their power relations. As the Han court attempted to weaken the Xiongnu’s influence through attracting its allies in the Tarim Basin, ruling houses in the region also got one more alliance option, whether they liked it or not.

Therefore in their early interactions with the Han court, the Wusun king received princess-wives from both the Han and the Xiongnu, and Loulan had to send prince- hostages to the two powers.1 The giving and taking of royal family members doubtlessly facilitated Han participation in the pan-East Eurasian circle of top governing elites. But besides having a human token as a symbol of alliance, the political significance of such exchange was obscure in early Han interactions with the unfamiliar polities until the post-Emperor Wu era. To increase the predictability of allied states’ actions, the Han court of the first century B.C.E. was more active in exchanging princess-wives and prince-hostages to secure cooperation at the levels of states and individual elites, thereby maximizing its influence on the steppe and in the

Tarim Basin without military mobilization from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

How did the Han court’s collaboration with allied polities or individual foreign elites work for the interests of both involved parties? At the state level, ruling houses’

1 See Chapter Two.

204 alliance decisions tended to correlate with power dynamics in the political ladnscape of East Eurasia, making the strong stronger and the weak weaker. The Han court apparently was keen to exploit this tendency. A good example was the shifting dynamics between the Han, the Wusun and the Xiongnu. In the early alliance between the Han and the Wusun, one interesting phenomenon is worth noting. Emperor Wu successively sent two princess-wives to the Wusun. The first one did not seem to do anything other than maintaining the ties between the two polities. But the second one,

Liu Jieyou, created considerable political drama. First, she was the node that facilitated the allied Han-Wusun expedition against the Xiongnu in 72 B.C.E. Second, she plotted in 64 B.C.E. to assassinate the new Wusun king from a Xiongnu mother in order to place her own son on the throne. But after this plot failed, Liu Jieyou continued to stay in the Wusun until 51 B.C.E. without suffering any visible political consequences. As discussed briefly in Chapter 3, both her offspring and maidservant remained influential in the governing elite circle of the Wusun. The larger political context behind this phenomenon should be examined in order to better understand why the Wusun elites decided not to pursue her.

This issue could be approached from two levels of contemporary politics. One was continental—the Xiongnu’s greatly narrowed power disparity with other polities across East Eurasia, especially with the Han. The other was internal—the need for pro-

Han and pro-Xiongnu Wusun elites to strike a balance for resolving political crises caused by Liu Jieyou’s plot. In terms of the continental context, the governing elites of the Wusun had to evaluate whether their tie with the Han or the Xiongnu was more useful for the Wusun’s power-building in East Eurasia. Looking at the long-term

205 changes, the Wusun had benefitted from decades of Han-Xiongnu warfare that had exhausted the two rival powers. Without doing anything, the Wusun’s power disparity with the Xiongnu was simultaneously reduced. Moreover, although both the Han and the Xiongnu ruling houses suffered succession controversies from around 85 B.C.E., the Xiongnu seemed to have more trouble minimizing the political impact of this problem. In the meantime, the Han court managed to restore itself through major changes in imperial approaches to power building in East Eurasia, as examined in

Chapter 3. The allied Han-Wusun expedition in 72 B.C.E. that struck another blow against the struggling Xiongnu also affirmed that the collaboration with the Han had a high potential to alter power dynamics on the steppe to the Wusun’s advantage.

Looking at the short-term, after the allied Han-Wusun expedition, the Xiongnu were plagued by compound problems of natural disasters, foreign attacks, and unsolved succession disputes. Right after the warfare of 72 B.C.E., the Xiongnu suffered from both huge snow falls and another wave of attacks from all sides. Natural disasters coupled with multiple foreign attacks resulted in extensive deaths of both humans and animals among the Xiongnu, further hampering their recovery. In 68

B.C.E. the Xiongnu were hit again by great famine for unrecorded reasons.2

Meanwhile, the bonds of the Xiongnu’s higher governing elite circle continued to loosen. Since its succession controversies had started in 85 B.C.E., for three decades different cliques of Xiongnu elites protested succession decisions either by refusing to participate in meetings with the new chanyu or switching their alliance to the Han.3

Of course it is hard to assert that the Xiongnu had in the past century never

2 Han shu 94a, pp. 3787-3788. 3 Han shu 94a, p. 3782, p. 3788-3791.

206 experienced succession controversies, natural disasters, or supporters’ switching of alliance, although we lack textual records to prove or disprove such a claim. But this time the Xiongnu did not have the leisure of even one year to recover from any major trouble. Both the Han and the Wusun were marshalling all available options to challenge the Xiongnu’s extensive influence in the northern half of East Eurasia. Any

Xiongnu inattention to enhancing its alliance network could become an opportunity for the Han and its allies to further reduce their power disparity vis-à-vis the Xiongnu.

The negative consequences of the Xiongnu’s slow recovery became evident when in 67 B.C.E. the Han court attempted to strengthen its influence over the Cheshi 車師 state, a long-time ally of the Xiongnu located on the route between the Han and the

Wusun. The Han and the Xiongnu had competed since 99 B.C.E. over securing alliances with Cheshi for reasons similar to the case of Loulan—both states were located on key communication routes between the Han and states in the west side of the Tarim Basin such as Dayuan and the Wusun. Loulan was on the southern route, while Cheshi the northern one. After Emperor Wu launched an allied expedition against Cheshi in 99 B.C.E., this area seemed to have been under the influence of both the Han and the Xiongnu. Emperor Wu’s successor delivered some Han troops to establish a self-sustaining military base in Cheshi. But by the time of the allied Han-

Wusun expedition in 72 B.C.E., Xiongnu forces were also stationed there.4 No record informs us what had been going on in the Cheshi area.

Due to the Han-Xiongnu competition, the Cheshi king also swung back and forth between the two powers, inclining more toward the Xiongnu. Although contemporary

4 Han shu 96b, p. 3922.

207

Han records claimed that in 99 B.C.E. Cheshi “surrendered” to the Han, by 68 B.C.E. the new Cheshi king still formed a marriage alliance with the Xiongnu and assisted the

Xiongnu in impeding Han communication with the Wusun. This situation prompted the Han court to mobilize its allies in the Tarim Basin to attack Cheshi in 67 B.C.E., hoping to coerce the king into cooperation. The Cheshi king sought Xiongnu assistance to repulse the attack, but the Xiongnu failed to respond. The already- troubled Xiongnu were probably still struggling with the aftermath of the great famine of 68 B.C.E. With no support from the Xiongnu and under pressure from the Han, the

Cheshi king turned to a third option—he ran to the Wusun to seek asylum.5

The Cheshi king’s decision was apparently based on the power relations in East

Eurasia at the time. The Xiongnu’s power disparity with the Han and the Wusun had been narrowed to the degree that the three states could be viewed as near equals in the eyes of weaker polities. Thus when caught between the Han and the Xiongnu, the

Cheshi king went to the third power, the Wusun, for protection. Furthermore, it took the Xiongnu another three years to begin dealing with the situation. In 64 B.C.E. the

Xiongnu attacked Han troops stationed in Cheshi, forcing the Han to abandon this area.

But the entire process did not reflect positively on the Xiongnu’s ability to enhance its alliance network. Not only had the Xiongnu failed to immediately respond to the Han challenge and help its ally, but the Han gained a chance to maximize its influence over Cheshi. The Han installed a Cheshi prince from a Yanqi mother, who had refused to become a prince-hostage to the Xiongnu by abandoning his position as crown-prince, as the replacement for the run-away king. This new king’s lack of

5 Han shu 96b, p. 3922-3924.

208 interest in cooperating with the Xiongnu was immediately transformed into a willingness to collaborate with the Han. In order to stay away from the Xiongnu, the new king even left to the Xiongnu the area originally occupied by the Cheshi state, moving his ruling house and subjects southwards to the self-sustaining Han military base in Quli 渠犁, which had been established after the Han expedition against

Dayuan ended in 108 B.C.E. As Quli was located close to Yanqi, his mother’s home country, the king essentially placed his state under both Han and Yanqi protection.

While this move to Quli favored Han maneuvers in the Tarim Basin, it apparently also served the new Cheshi king’s interest.

Meanwhile, that run-away Cheshi king was not the only one who noticed the joint expansion of Han-Wusun influence in the Tarim Basin. This same continental context explains why the governing elites of Shache wanted to have Liu Jieyou’s second son as their new king, and the Qiuci king proposed to marry Liu Jieyou’s daughter.6 As both polities were located near the Wusun, it was in their interest to have within their governing elite circle a Wusun royal child who brought an additional advantage of cementing ties with another rising power in the east.

But this connection with the Han was a double-edge sword. In the case of the

Qiuci king, his relationship with Liu Jieyou’s daughter worked out so well that he even joined her visit to the Han capital in 65 B.C.E.7 This positive outcome not only secured for the Qiuci king two influential allies in East Eurasia, the Han also benefitted from demonstrating to other polities its gaining of one more intimate

6 See Chapter Three. 7 Han shu 96b, pp. 3916-3917.

209 supporter. On the other hand, the Shache case turned out to be a disaster. As Liu

Jieyou’s son became a tyrant, the governing elites of Shache eventually decided to kill him. Having done so, the Shache elites anticipated Han revenge and quickly formed an alliance with neighboring polities, preparing for potential warfare and blocking Han communication along the south route of the Tarim Basin. Consequently, the Han court was unaware of the incident. But the Shache alliance was attacked mostly due to this action of impeding Han communication with allies. Feng Fengshi 馮奉世, a Han emissary who was escorting Dayuan guests back to their home country, mobilized allied states in the Tarim Basin without imperial authorization to attack Shache in 65

B.C.E. Contemporary Han records made it clear that his unauthorized action was mainly due to the Shache alliance blocking the route he needed to travel through to complete his mission. The ability of the Han alliance to defeat the Shache one added one more example that affirmed Han influence in the Tarim Basin. Precisely because of this positive effect, the Han court decided not to punish Feng Fengshi’s unauthorized mobilization of allied states, though he was also not rewarded.8

The governing elites of the Wusun must have been fully aware of the shifting power dynamics in East Eurasia cause by all the aforementioned incidents that had occurred by 65 B.C.E. If the Cheshi, Qiuci, and Shache elites were all weighing the advantages in choosing the Xiongnu, the Han, or the Wusun for advancing their own interests, the Wusun elites had good reason to do the same. Furthermore, as the Wusun had benefitted so much from its alliance with the Han, the Wusun elites had no reason to stop exploiting the advantages created by this bond unless they found more

8 Han shu 79, p. 3294; 96b, pp. 3897-3898.

210 promising options. These two factors might well explain why after Liu Jieyou plotted the assassination in 64 B.C.E. of the Wusun king from a Xiongnu mother, the Wusun elites still collaborated with the Han court to settle the political chaos together.

Besides the continental context that increased the Wusun elites’ willingness to handle the assassination problem with the Han, the solution proposed by Feng Liao,

Liu Jieyou’s maidservant, was also accepted for a reason—it balanced Wusun ties with both the Han and the Xiongnu. On the one hand, by placing Liu Jieyou’s first son as the major king and keeping Liu Jieyou and her offsprings in the Wusun governing elite circle, the ties between the Wusun and the Han were not substantially weakened by the assassination incident. On the other hand, by establishing another prince from a

Xiongnu mother, the loss of the king did not significantly undermine the Wusun’s ties with the Xiongnu. The Han court did attempt to play some tricks to maximize imperial influence by exploiting Wusun elites’ cooperation. In addition to the language game of attaching “major” and “minor” to the kings’ titles, more subjects were placed under the major Wusun king’s control. But more Wusun elites chose to follow the minor

Wusun king.9 The reason is unknown. It could have been that the minor king was simply a more likable ruler, or that they still preferred a stronger Xiongnu connection.

Regardless, as a compromise for crisis management, this solution did seem to minimize in the short-term potential damage to the Wusun’s alliance strategies for power-building. But the co-existence of two rulers in the Wusun also planted the seed for internal disputes a few decades later.

The issue of a foreign polity’s internal disputes leads us to the second form of

9 Han shu 96b, pp. 3906-3907.

211

Han cooperation with individual governing elites for mutual power-building. As mentioned in the beginning of this section, the state-level collaboration between the

Han and other polities was a mutual strengthening process. The Wusun case was an obvious example. While marriage alliance with the Wusun created different types of opportunities for the Han court to expand imperial influence in the Tarim Basin, the co-emergence of the Wusun did not necessarily in the long run serve the imperial desire for supremacy. This “co-rising” situation could be counterbalanced by Han collaboration with power contenders in a foreign polity. This type of cooperation offered more advantages to the Han. By supporting a power contender, the Han court could either weaken a polity through prolonged internal factionalism, or elevate to the throne a usurper who needed Han support to put down internal disapproval. In other words, such methods increased a foreign ruler’s dependence on the Han without turning the polity into a rival power in East Eurasia. The only shortcoming of this approach was that the presence of a power contender was happenstance. While the

Han court could take initiatives to form marriage alliances, it had to wait for power contenders to approach the Han instead of other polities for support.

The Han court experienced fairly early the benefits brought by power contenders from foreign polities. The first case was the Han assassination of the Loulan king in 77

B.C.E. As the Loulan king had assisted the Xiongnu to undermine Han communication with polities in the Tarim Basin, the Han court must have felt lucky when the king’s brother fled to the Han expressing his dissatisfaction with the king.

Again, the two brothers were apparently weighing the advantages of choosing between foreign allies for their own power-building activities within Loulan. The king opted

212 for collaborating with the Xiongnu to enhance his own political influence, consequently pushing his brother to look for a different alliance option that could rival the Xiongnu. After the assassination, the Han court immediately installed the usurper as the new Loulan king. Although such collaboration remained a process of mutual power-building, the new king advanced his political position within Loulan at the cost of increasing his dependence on the Han court. For fear of potential protests from within after Han emissaries left, the new king offered a fertile area for the Han court to establish a self-sustaining military base in Loulan.10 That is to say, the Han court not only cleared a barrier on its communication route, but gained a military base in the region. Both contributed to advancing the infrastructural deployment of the Han court in expanding imperial influence in the Tarim Basin.

But it was the internal succession disputes of the Xiongnu that created most benefits to Han power-building in East Eurasia. Based on all aforementioned incidents by 65 B.C.E., although the power disparity continued to shrink between the Xiongnu and other polities in East Eurasia, no sign suggested that the Xiongnu were considered weaker than either the Han or the Wusun. For one thing, both the allied Han-Wusun expedition and the alliance decisions of Qiuci and Shache only affirmed that when the

Han and the Wusun collaborated, their alliance could overpower the Xiongnu. But as individual states, the power relations between the three could be an entirely different matter. For another, while the Wusun and the Han worked together to reduce their power disparity with the Xiongnu, the Wusun elites carefully maintained their ties with the Xiongnu by accepting the proposal of installing two kings at the same time.

10 Han shu 96a, p. 3878.

213

While this could well be a tactic for the Wusun to restrain expanding Han influence in its governing elite circle, such action also hinted that the Xiongnu had not been enfeebled to the degree that they had become useless for the Wusun’s power-building strategies.

It was the internal warfare among Xiongnu elites over succession that gave the

Han a tremendous opportunity to switch its power relation with the Xiongnu for about half a century. As the succession controversies of the Xiongnu remained unsolved for three decades, the problem eventually culminated in warfare from 58 B.C.E. between mutiple chanyus, who were brothers and cousins of the royal family.11 Although this situation was similar to that of the Han in 154 B.C.E., there was a major difference at the level of continental politics. Unlike the Xiongnu leadership of 154 B.C.E. that refrained from intervening in internal disputes of the Han governing elites, the Han court of 58 B.C.E. was more than happy to extend Han influence into the governing elite circle of the Xiongnu when circumstances allowed. The two most promising rivals, Huhanye 呼韓邪 and Zhizhi 郅支, offered such an opportunity when both brothers began to consider the Han court as a necessary ally. Each sent a prince- hostage to initiate an alliance with the Han. The Han court accepted both prince- hostages but decided to support Huhanye, for he demonstrated more willingness to cooperate with the Han. In 51 B.C.E. Huhanye visited the Han capital and offered in person to protect Han outposts on the southern steppe.12 Huhanye’s request for assistance offered the Han court for the first time the opportunity to station troops

11 Han shu 94b, pp. 3795-3796. 12 Han shu 70, p. 3008; 94b, pp. 3797-3799.

214 within a Xiongnu chanyu’s sphere of power.

Regardless of how the Han court boasted about this unprecedented “achievement,”

Huhanye’s action needs to be placed in context. First of all, as a power contender, he and his brother’s rivalry was also fought over their capability to marshal foreign support. While Huhanye received assistance from the Han in the Yellow River region, in around 45 B.C.E. Zhizhi also formed a marriage alliance with Kangju 康居, a powerful state to the west of the Tarim Basin. The reason why Huhanye finally won was mainly due to the different outcomes of their alliances. Contrary to Huhanye, who was willing to do anything for a chance to recover, the Zhizhi-Kangju alliance did not work out well. Although Zhizhi and the Kangju king collaborated to attack the Wusun and Dayuan in hope of coercing them into the Zhizhi-Kangju alliance, Zhizhi failed to recognize the significance of Kangju support to his power-building by killing the

Kangju king’s daughter as well as some Kangju governing elites. Therefore, when

Chen Tang 陳湯, a Han emissary in the Tarim Basin, made an unauthorized mobilization of Han allies against the Zhizhi-Kangju alliance to prevent the Wusun and Dayuan from switching to the Zhizhi side, the Kangju elites cooperated with the

Han alliance to kill Zhizhi.13

Second, Huhanye also placed himself in the weaker position of alliance because foreign provisions were necessary for mitigating his people’s misery. Signs suggested that steppe communities had suffered from internal warfare and probably also not recovered from major natural disasters in previous years. It is noteworthy that

Huhanye requested from the Han not only military assistance but also food. In his first

13 Han shu 70, pp. 3009-3014; 94b, p. 3802.

215 visit to the Han capital in 51 B.C.E., Huhanye already took back with him both Han troops and grain from Han frontier commanderies. In 48 B.C.E. he sent a letter to the new Han emperor, stating that his people were still struggling. The Han court thus again delivered to Huhanye grain from frontier commanderies. But when Han emissaries noticed in 47 B.C.E. that cattle on the steppe were proliferating, coupled with the rumor that Huhanye’s ministers were persuading him to return to the northern steppe, they immediately suspected that Huhanye might break the alliance. Without requesting imperial authorization, they decided to conduct the ritual of a blood oath for binding Huhanye and generations of his descedents to the Han.14 These Han emissaries apparently understood that widespread poverty was also one reason why

Huhanye had had to rely on Han assistance. Once steppe communities entered the recovery phase, Huhanye and his successors would have less incentive to cooperate with the Han court.

The assumption of these Han emissaries was certainly not unwarranted. The

Loulan case already showed that the Han could maximize its influence in a foreign polity only when the ruler was heavily dependent on Han support for securing his own power. But Huhanye and his succesors seemed to be oath-abiders. As Zhizhi was eliminated and steppe communities were recovering, Huhanye did move back to the northern steppe, probably because it was no longer necessary to stay close to the Han for more effective military collaboration. By 1 B.C.E. steppe communities had recovered to the degree that they had surplus food to provision Han emissaries on the road. But for about four decades Huhanye and subsequent Xiongnu chanyus continued

14 Han shu 94b, pp. 3798-3801.

216 to cooperate with and send prince-hostages to the Han. Even when Wang Mang, who controlled the decision-making process of the Han court since around 1 C.E., made multiple requests to assert Han authority over the Xiongnu, the chanyu still tried to cooperate. It was not until Wang Mang usurped the Han state in 9 C.E. and attempted to degrade the Xiongnu from an ally to a subordinate that the chanyu finally broke away from the Han alliance.15

While the Xiongnu restored themselves after their succession disputes were ended, the Wusun went in the opposite direction. Although the two-king system solved the succession crisis caused by Liu Jieyou’s action and balanced the interest of pro-

Han and pro-Xiongnu governing elites of the Wusun in the short term, it turned out to in the long run hinder the Wusun’s power-building in East Eurasia. The first generation of the two kings seemed to carefully maintain the delicate balance in the

Wusun elite circle. When Zhizhi sought alliance with the minor Wusun king, who was from a Xiongnu mother, the king opted for killing Zhizhi’s emissary as a gesture of cooperating with the Han. No matter how the Han court interpreted his decision, the minor Wusun king might have been attempting to avoid a total split within the Wusun, as he had experienced in person the succession crisis just a few years ago and was watching the Xiongnu one. But such balance did not last for two generations. After the death of this minor Wusun king, the new king was killed by his brother, starting the decades-long succession disputes in the Wusun that involved both the major and minor kings. The Han court actively intervened into the incident, installing the slain minor king’s son as the new king and assisting him to assassinate the power contender who

15 Han shu 94b, p. 3801, p. 3817, and pp. 3827-3828.

217 went to Kangju for support. But this Han-installed minor king was killed by the

Wusun people, a sign that Wusun dissatisfaction with Han intervention was beginning to surface. The Han court installed another son as the minor Wusun king. But instead of cooperating with the Han, this new minor king assassinated the major king, who was Liu Jieyou’s grandson. Eventually the Han court mobilized allied states in the

Tarim Basin to coerce the Wusun elites into giving up their resistance to Han intervention in succession decisions.16 From this point onward, the Wusun was no longer a rival power co-rising with the Han in East Eurasia, instead becoming weaker allies of the Han, as both the major and minor kings needed Han support to intimidate

Wusun governing elites who detested this succession outcome.

Through constantly manipulating the power-building ambitions of foreign polities as well as their governing elites for almost one century, the Han court drastically altered power relations on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. In the case of the

Xiongnu and the Wusun, not only was their power-building in East Eurasia held back, but their ruling houses had to depend on Han support, even just for a few decades.

When the Loulan and Cheshi kings joined the Han alliance, their action both secured the survival of their own authority and further consolidated the foundation of the Han communication network in the Tarim Basin, as they no longer blocked the northern and southern routes in the Tarim Basin.

But all these Han maneuvers would have been ineffective had newly established commanderies in the Hexi Corridor not facilitated Han and foreign emissaries’ travel in and out of the Tarim Basin. It is to the functioning of this cornerstone of the Han

16 Han shu 70, pp. 3030-3031; 96b, pp. 3908-3910.

218 alliance network that we now turn.

(2) Administrative Facilities for Maintaining Long-distance Political Interactions

Although the Han court established a few long-term military bases in the Tarim

Basin, it is mistaken to assume that they functioned as governing institutions there. As will be discussed below, the sites were not even used for supplying combat forces in imperial military operations. Instead, they served mainly to observe interstate activities and ensure the smooth flow of Han communications with polities in the region. Put in a different way, these Han outposts were essentially the intelligence component of a larger institution—the Han-centered alliance. Contemporary Han records already made it clear that the job of the top Han representative in the Tarim

Basin, the “Protector-General 都護” (and consequently of Han outposts in the region), was to “observe and inspect activities of all outer (i.e. foreign) states such as the

Wusun and Kangju. When an unexpected incident occurred, it shall be reported [to the imperial court]. [For states that] should be settled through peaceful means, settle them peacefully. [For states that] should be attacked, attack them. 督察烏孫、康居諸外國

動靜，有變以聞。可安輯，安輯之；可擊，擊之.”17 At least three tasks were involved in this job description—monitoring political dynamics among states in the

Tarim Basin, communicating events in the region to the Han court, and acting on them according to the situation. Based on this statement, the significance of these outposts lay in their role as scouts and first respondents. But this seemingly straightforward description was not that easy to put into practice. As all Han initiatives in the Tarim

17 Han shu 96a, p. 3874.

219

Basin depended on allied states’ cooperation, i.e. a stable Han alliance network, the

Protector-General and the Han military bases in the region were incapable of performing any of the stated tasks when the ties were severed between polities in the region and the imperial court.

Granted that we do not have records about routine Han activities for intelligence gathering in the Tarim Basin, some seemingly inconsequential information in contemporary records can help us speculate how such a task was conducted to supply information for the imperial manipulation of power dynamics in East Eurasia discussed in the previous section. It seemed that these outposts formed one part of a tripartite collaboration with allied states and Han emissaries to allow information circulation from the Tarim Basin to the Han court. On the one hand, Han allies in the region provided the foundation for intelligence operations by granting tacit consent to the existence of a Han base within or near their sphere of power and hosting Han emissaries who were traveling back and forth between the Han court and multiple states on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. On the other hand, Han emissaries and stationed Han troops in the outposts worked as one team—the former were mobile and the later on-site—to collect intelligence and transmit it back to the Han court.

A good example would be Feng Fengshi’s mission for escorting foreign guests back to Dayuan in 65 B.C.E. From this case we could find some hints about the role of stationed Han troops as long-term intelligence collectors. Feng Fengshi was unaware of the Shache alliance that blocked the Han communication line to the west of Loulan along the southern route until his team arrived at the Han base in Loulan. This situation indicated that at the time it was still very difficult to communicate new

220 political developments in the Tarim Basin to the westernmost control point of the Han adminstrative system in the Hexi Corridor, let alone the imperial court. As the

Protector-General and other colonels were stationed in the Han outposts along the northern route, Feng Fengshi made an unauthorized mobilization of military forces against the Shache alliance from the remaining Han allies, and sent a report back to the Han court after the situation was under control.18 His decision to take unauthorized action suggested that even communication between Han outposts on the northern and southern routes in the Tarim Basin could have been quite time- consuming and inefficient when emergency responses were necessary.19

Considering the difficulty in communicating information between Han outposts themselves and from the Tarim Basin to the Yellow River region, each Han base in the region must have been crucial as a long-term, on-site facility for supplying intelligence to the imperial court and passing Han emissaries about political dynamics in surrounding areas. But the physicial existence of these outposts in the region depended on the Han court’s reaching a mutual understanding with allied states, whether through collaboration or coercion. In the case of the Loulan base, it was the king (the usurper) who offered the Han court this long-term outpost on the southern route for strengthening his own power over discontented Loulan elites. That is to say, with the ruler’s tacit consent, this Han outpost was protected to perform its tasks by the host

18 Han shu 79, p. 3294; 96a, pp. 3897-3898. 19 Wang Guihai’s research on excavated Han documents from the Xuanquan site offers another example about Han emissaries’ role in communicating political emergencies in the Tarim Basin to the Han court. Wang’s article lays out the two methods through which Chang Hui communicated the political crisis caused by Liu Jieyou to the Han court. One was through delivering an expedited letter via standard communication facilities and the other was through sending one of his escorts back to the Han court, both for submitting a letter to the emperor and for orally reporting the situation. See Wang Guihai 汪桂海, “Dunhuang jiandu suojian Han chao yu Xiyu de guanxi 敦煌簡牘所見漢朝與西域的關係” Jianbo 1 (2006), pp. 306-307.

221 state. It was this infrastructural context that allowed Feng Fengshi to learn the latest political developments in the southern route from a commandant stationed at the

Loulan base.

It is also noteworthy that, unlike Feng Fengshi, who tried to take action after learning that Shache was blocking the Han communication line, this commandant in the Loulan base did nothing more than reporting collected information to a passing emissary from the imperial court. The stationed troops in Loulan also did not seem to play any visible role in the joint expedition composed of allied states’ forces. This could have been a clue that in their routine tasks Han troops stationed in an outpost in the Tarim Basin were not expected to do anything more than watch political activities in surrounding areas and report the information to the imperial court and passing Han emissaries.

When the imperial court found the need to exercise armed coercion against a state in the region, Han outposts performed one more task—coordinating allies’ forces. Han military action in response to “unexpected incidents” was not “routine” in the first century B.C.E., but was more visible in contemporary records. Therefore we have clearer evidence that the primary tasks of Han troops stationed in these outposts did not involve fighting wars. They were more likely coordinators of joint expeditions, using allied states in the region to attack uncooperative ones. For one thing, the number of Han troops in each outpost seemed too small to coerce a powerful state into cooperation. Even the defense capability of these Han bases was questionable. Without consistent cooperation from a critical number of allies, not only would Han military maneuvers be impossible in the region, but these outposts could have easily been

222 disabled and eliminated.

According to documented cases of warfare, to effectively intimidate a major power in the Tarim Basin into joining the Han alliance, the number of troops involved in one expedition generally was more than 10,000. For instance, when after 72 B.C.E. the imperial court attempted to “rebuke 責” Qiuci for killing the Han-installed colonel in the military base of Luntai 輪臺, the Han emissary Chang Hui 常惠 and his 500 escorts completed the task with the assistance of 7,000 troops from the Wusun, 20,000 troops from allied states to the west of Quici, and another 20,000 troops from those to the east.20 In 65 B.C.E. when the Shache alliance blocked the Han communication line to Dayuan, remaining Han allies supplied a total of 15,000 troops that allowed Feng

Fengshi to eliminate uncooperative Shache elites. Interestingly, although Han emissaries launched both expeditions, troops stationed in Han outposts did not seem to play any obvious role in the military operations.

Even when stationed Han troops participated in joint expeditions, there was a great disproportion in size between the Han’s and allies’ forces, probably due to the limited number of combatants in these Han bases in the Tarim Basin. Two recorded cases provide us an approximation of the numbers in each outpost. The first is the Han warfare against Cheshi in 68 B.C.E. to which the Xiongnu failed to respond. In preparation for removing the obstacle to its communication with the Wusun, the Han court had to send convicts from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to the Han base in Quli on the northern route. But even with these added troops, the Quli base only managed to supply 1,500 combatants to join more than 10,000 troops from the allied

20 Han shu 70, p. 3004.

223 states’ for this military maneuver.21 That is to say, the original number of Han troops stationed in the Quli base was likely very small. Such a small number of troops was good enough for conducting routine maintenance of the base and collecting information, but seemed not so useful for performing independent military operations.

The second case further demonstrates that Han outposts did not possess enough forces even for self-defense, and could easily be disabled when allied states stopped responding to Han requests for military assistance. In around 10 C.E. states began to break away from the Han alliance due to Wang Mang’s attempts to assert authority over allies. Allied states’ withdrawal of cooperation immediately worried the subordinates of the Wu-Ji Colonel 戊己校尉 in the Han outpost in Cheshi, especially after they knew that offended Cheshi elites had turned to the Xiongnu for joint attacks against Han troops stationed in the Cheshi base. Determining this situation to be life- threatening, they decided to take a total of over 2,000 men and women in the base to be under Xiongnu protection. As the Wu-Ji Colonel opposed this idea, he was killed along with his adult sons. Only his wife and young children were left alive.22

This case offers significant evidence for us to understand the nature of Han outposts in the Tarim Basin. First of all, similar to the Quli base of 68 B.C.E., this

Cheshi base of 10 C.E. housed only a few thousand people, including wives and children of Han troops. One can surmise that the number of combatants in this outpost must have been well below 2,000. Second, the colonel’s subordinates believed that these bases had no chance to survive any attack when polities in the region broke away

21 Han shu 70, pp. 3005-3006; 96b, p. 3922. 22 Han shu 94b, p. 3823; 96a, p. 3874; 96b, p. 3926.

224 from the Han alliance, and withdrew their military assistance to Han maneuvers. Their belief was correct. In 13 B.C.E., even the Protector-General was eliminated by the forces of Yanqi, a state near his base. By around 30 C.E., all surviving outpost soldiers, their wife and children under Shache’s protection amounted to merely a bit over 1000 people.23

The vulnerability of these Han outposts meant that only when the imperial court maintained a critical number of allied states in the region that were willing to act on behalf of the Han could the Protector-General and all Han military bases in the Tarim

Basin perform their expected tasks. Once the number of Han allies in the Tarim Basin became too small to seem intimidating in the eyes of uncooperative states, the imperial court and the Protector-General had no other recourse but to watch the reduction of

Han influence in the region or re-inforce it by sending Han troops from the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions. Neither would be in the best interest of the Han court after

Emperor Wu had proven the self-destructive nature to Han rule in the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions of long-distance expeditions. The tremendous significance of maintaining intimate ties with allies explains why the recorded military actions launched by Han representatives in the region often had to do with securing smooth communication lines between the imperial court and states such as the Wusun and

Dayuan at the west side of the Tarim Basin. This was also the reason why after the

Han court accidentally got control of the Hexi Corridor, it firmly gripped this area by constantly consolidating the administrative infrastructure and never considered abolishing the newly established commanderies as they did in the northeast and far

23 Han shu 96b, p. 3927; 99b, p. 4133; Hou Han shu 88, p. 2923.

225 south.24

While the efficacy of Han communication lines in the Tarim Basin were contingent on allied states’ willingness to continue their cooperation, the imperial court possessed a great advantage for maximizing its capacity to alter interstate communication patterns on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin—its control over the

Hexi Corridor, an area located between the Yellow River region and the Tarim Basin and between the Eurasian Steppe and the Tibetan Plateau. As briefly discussed in

Chapter 2, this area was originaly controlled by the King of Kunye and his subordinates. After their unexpected “surrender” in 121 B.C.E., the Han court deployed these steppe groups to guard the Yellow River loop and populated this accidentally gained area with bureaucrats, soliders, and ordinary subjects from the

Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

It is important to note that these government-sent immigrants were not entering an evacuated land. Another population had long been dwelling within and to the south of the Hexi Corridor—the Qiang 羌. Before the imperial court established two frontier commanderies—Wuwei 武威 and Jiuquan 酒泉—in the Hexi Corridor in 121 B.C.E.,

Qiang groups seemed to have vied with officials in Longxi Commandery 隴西郡, which was located near the southeast corner of the corridor. For instance, when the renowned general Li Guang served as the Governor of Longxi during the reign of

Emperor Jing, he suppressed Qiang challenges by killing over 800 Qiang people who surrendered to his forces.25 At the time, conflicts like this were apparently left for local

24 Han shu 7, p. 223; 9, p. 283; 64b, p. 2835. 25 Shi ji 109, p. 2874.

226 officials to handle, probably because the scale was not too large.

Han confrontation with Qiang communities dramatically escalated after the imperial court began building frontier commanderies in the Hexi Corridor after 121

B.C.E. In 112 B.C.E., Qiang groups launched massive attacks against Han sites at the southeast side of the Hexi Corridor and contacted the Xiongnu for collaboration. The

Qiang people involved were said to amount to 100,000. Even though the imperial court sent an equal amount of 100,000 cavalry and foot soldiers to suppress Qiang forces, it still took the Han troops 5 to 6 years to fully restore the situation. While suppressing this Qiang challenge, the Han court immediately reinforced its control over the area by further dividing the two frontier commandies into four. Upon adding the commanderies of Zhangyi 張掖 and Dunhuang 敦煌, more immigrants were also sent into the corridor to strengthen the Han presence. In 88 B.C.E. there was another attempt at a Qiang-Xiongnu alliance to attack Han sites in the Hexi Corridor, though this plan was not carried out. The reason might have been a split between Qiang groups over their relations with the Han. It seemed that by 68 B.C.E. some Qiang groups had chosen to become “affiliates of righteousness” and assisted in Han military maneuvers. For instance, when communities in the upper Yangtze River region challenged Han rule, part of the Han forces for suppression was supplied by Qiang lords. But even as late as 61 B.C.E., the imperial court still needed to mobilize 60,000 troops from the Yellow River region and in the Hexi Corridor against Qiang forces.26

All the aforementioned cases show that growing Han activities in the Hexi Corridor provoked at least two types of relational dynamics in the area. One was Qiang

26 Han shu 6, pp. 176-177; pp. 188-189; 69, pp. 2972-2973.

227 frustration, expressed in the form of military resistance, about all the changes to the landscape and relations due to commandery-building activities conducted by immigrants from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. The other was varied responses among Qiang groups to the Han presence. Some chose to collaborate with local Han officials, others opted to challenge the Han presence. As the transfer to the

Han of control over the Hexi Corridor was a total accident, it is no wonder that long- time residents in the area were upset about Han construction and occupation activities that disturbed the accepted physical environment and demographic composition.

Han power-building in East Eurasia benefitted greatly from this surprise transfer, for the physical location of the Hexi Corridor provided the imperial court a critical leverage to change communication patterns between the Eurasian Steppe, the Tarim

Basin, and the Tibetan Plateau. As already explained in contemporary records, the building of this east-west administrative line along the corridor not only opened up

Han communication with states on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin without having to travel through Xiongnu communities, but also blocked the communication between the Xiongnu to its north and the Qiang to its south.27 Besides this change in communication patterns among powers across East Eurasia, a bonus offered by the natural environment of the Hexi Corridor was two rivers that stretched northward to two lakes on the steppe—Juyan 居延 and Xiutu 休屠. The Han court quickly exploited the location of the two rivers for increasing Han troops’ capability to travel deep into the steppe. In around 105 B.C.E., the imperial court already delivered

180,000 troops into Juyan and Xiutu in the name of “guarding 衛” newly established

27 Shi ji 110, p. 2913; 123, p. 3170; Han shu 73, p. 3126.

228 commanderies in the Hexi Corridor. In particular, the Juyan area was further fortified after 102 B.C.E. As the river connecting to Juyan Lake protruded farther into the steppe, this line had become an important route for long-distance Han expeditions against the Xiongnu forces since later in the reign of Emperor Wu.28

Although long-distance Han expeditions were reduced to near zero after the reign of Emperor Wu,29 the imperial court continued to consolidate its control over the Hexi

Corridor to enhance the Han alliance network across the steppe and the Tarim Basin, i.e. the very institution that made possible the reduction of Han military campaigns in far-flung lands. For ensuring that Han and foreign emissaries could constantly travel back and forth without obstruction between the Han court and polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, local commandery officials had quickly developed their knowledge about the landscape, and moved in controllable human, animal, and material resources to consolidate the Han presence in the corridor. Nonetheless, all these tasks could have been very difficult had Han bureaucrats not inherited a powerful “technology” from the Qin for heightening government capabilities in exploiting all types of available resources—a highly standardized documentation system.

The routine administration of resource management and its larger implications would require a complete book to elaborate, and thus will not be discussed in detail here. The following merely provides a glimpse at the use of the standardized

28 Han shu 6, p. 201 and 203; 54, p. 2451; 61, p. 2700; 94a, p. 3776 and p. 3777. 29 Besides the joint Han-Wusun expedition against the Xiongnu, the other one was for handling the Wusun succession crisis caused by Liu Jieyou. But this expedition was halted right before Han troops entering the Tarim Basin because of Feng Liao’s successful negotation. See Han shu 69, p. 2995; 96b, 3907.

229 documentation system for facilitating Han communication to the Tarim Basin. Armed with their highly-streamlined, writing-based administrative “technology,” local Han bureaucrats maximized the mobilization of all usable resources to enhance the Han presence in the Hexi Corridor and the Han alliance network across the steppe and the

Tarim Basin.

“Usable” is the key word. It is mistaken to assume that local Han officials were capable of documenting, thus controlling, all physically visible human, animal, and material resources in the Hexi Corridor. The information circulating among bureaucrats mostly concerned resources that they could actually move around and put to work. Michael Loewe’s research on excavated Juyan documents provides a nice overview of local officials’ documenting of individual soldier’s transfer of post assignments, day-to-day labor output, et cetera.30 All these efforts for converting physical activities in the real world into transmissible information were built on the premise that every single individual could be consistently tracked down with high precision. Therefore, although many Qiang groups were apparently present within and near the Hexi Corridor, they were not “usable” individuals to imperial needs, for their personal data were not “visible” in the standardized documentation system. Some

Qiang individuals in the area were indeed registered one by one—only after they became “affiliates to righteousness.” For example, one Qiang man was identified this way, “Affiliate to Righteousness, Leiqugui Tribe of the Qiang, male, Nuge 歸義壘渠

歸種羌男子奴葛.”31 Currently published slips offer 9 examples of Qiang individuals’

30 See Michael Loewe, Records of Han Administration (Vol. I), pp. 74-126. 31 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 166.

230 data, all documented in the same format as follows: “Affiliate to Righteousness, X

Tribe of the Qiang, sex, personal name.” We need to wait for future publication to see if these “affiliates to righteousness” were recruited to perform routine maintenance of government facilities. Regardless, these slips show that Han officials had begun to build the documentary foundation for placing these new labor forces to work.

In order to consolidate control over the Hexi Corridor as fast as possible, from the reign of Emperor Wu the Han court opted to conduct waves of state-organized immigration to move already “visible” and “usable” populations from the Yellow and

Yangtze Rivers regions instead of spending years to interact and collaborate with long- time Qiang residents. Cumbersome adminstrative labor remained unavoidable for moving populations in between the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions and the Hexi

Corridor. But the much higher predictability of registered population seemed to have outweighted the trouble of long-distance population transportation in the eyes of the

Han court in the first century B.C.E.

As mentioned before, until the mid first century B.C.E. the Xiongnu and Qiang groups comtinued to try to compromise Han control in the area. To maintain the newly created interstate communication pattern, the imperial court deployed both on-site cavalry and conscripts from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. This meant that government officials across the Han-controlled areas had to regularly collaborate to circulate a designated amount of population into and out of the Hexi Corridor. One excavated document in Dunhuang provides us some hints about the administrative labor involved in moving conscripts for long distances to and from the Hexi Corridor.

This document notifies post stations to provide lodging to officials who are on

231 government missions. Part of the recorded information states: “Dated on Kuiwei of the eleventh month in the fourth year of Shenjue [i.e. 58 B.C.E.]. Li Zun, a clerk of the

Prime Minister, [is on the mission of] sending and escorting conscripts on garrison duty for the sixth year of Shenjue [i.e. 56 B.C.E.] from the commanderies and subordinate state of Hedong, Nanyang, Yinchuan, Shangdang, Dong, Jiyin, Wei,

Huaiyang who are bound for Dunhuang and Jiuquan Commanderies. Thereupon, [he will] receive off-duty conscripts, sending them back to the commanderies and subordinate state of Hedong, Nanyang, Yinchuan, Dong, Wei, and Huaiyang. [He will] also be in charge of the carriages and coffins [that carry] dead conscripts. 神爵四年十

一月癸未。丞相史李尊，送獲(護)神爵六年戍卒河東、南陽、潁川、上黨、東郡、

濟陰、魏郡、淮陽國詣敦煌郡、酒泉郡。因迎罷卒送致河東、南陽、穎川、東

郡、魏郡、淮陽國。并督死卒傳[艸+秉](槥)。…”32

Although it is impossible to know all the procedures on the road that Li Zun had to do to complete this entire cycle of transporting conscripts between East of the

Passes and the Hexi Corridor, this text at least suggests its scale. First of all, this fragment indicates that for Li Zun to collect conscripts in the East of the Passes so that they could start their service in the Hexi Corridor from 56 B.C.E., a government document had to be issued in late 58 B.C.E. to secure lodging along the road for him.

That is to say, at least one year of administrative preparation was required just for moving conscripts from the East of the Passes to their destinations in the Hexi

32 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 45. For a detailed survey about documents for travelling officials to secure provisions, lodging, and related services, see Zhang Defang 張德芳, “Xuanquan Han jian zhong de ‘chuanxin jian’ kaoshu 懸泉漢簡中的‘傳信簡’考述,” Chutu wenxian yanjiu 7 (2005), pp. 65-81.

232

Corridor. Considering that he also had to send back off-duty conscripts, both live and dead, the full cycle for this single task could easily go beyond two years. Li Zun was certainly not the only official who performed this task. Fragments dated to 31 and 25

B.C.E. are also about individual officials escorting conscripts and convicts to

Dunhuang Commandery.33 Besides these routine practices, a fragment dated to 28

B.C.E. registers the sending of an official to collect vagrants from Donghai 東海 and

Taishan 泰山 Commanderies in the eastern end of the Yellow River to dwell in

Dunhuang Commandery.34 Although this particular type of population transfer was probably infrequent, the preparation and completion time for the task should be of a similar scale.

Second, behind this population migration was highly meticulous documentation of who came from where for what type of military task. In Loewe’s translation of the

“Register of Weapons Held by Conscripts on Garrison Duty 戍卒械簿” of 54 B.C.E. in Juyan, the three listed conscripts are all identified according to their duty type and home town in the following format: “Conscript on X duty, [from] Y Commandery Z

Village, personal name… X 卒 Y 郡 Z 里人名…”35 When a conscript died during his service period, he was identified in the same documentation format along with the cause of the death. For instance, a fragment in Dunhuang records this: “Conscript on conveying duty, [from] Dong Commandery East Wuyang Village, Gong Fu, Died of sickness [on the day □□] of the seventh month in the second year of Ganlu [i.e. 52

33 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 42 and p. 99. 34 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 44. 35 Michael Loewe, Records of Han Administration (Vol. II), pp. 147-149.

233

B.C.E.]. 轉卒東郡武陽東里宮賦，甘露二年七月□□病死.”36 This information not only notified officials in the Hexi Corridor of a loss in labor that had to be replaced, but might also be transferred back to the dead conscript’s home commandery for officials to explain the situation to the family. It is important to remember that every single soldier, whether on-site or conscripted from the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, had to be documented and traced in the same fashion. And according to a report submitted by the Governor of Jiuquan Commandery in around 61 B.C.E., the cavalry stationed in the Hexi Corridor amounted to over 10,000,37 let alone the number of conscripts that tended to be several times more numerous than cavalry. Without this streamlined documentation system, it would have been difficult for Han bureaucrats to assemble a substantial amount of poplation and move them for long distances to maintain government facilities in the far-away Hexi Corridor for imperial power- building.

Not only human labor, but all animal and material resources for government use were meticulously documented and traced. In particular, the rigor in identifying and tracking individual horses was no less than that for human workers. It was particularly true of post stations. These facilities were in charge of circulating information and providing assistance to passing government and foreign emissaries—a fundamental routine for enhancing the functioning of both administration and the Han alliance network. Many of these daily tasks depended on housing a sufficient number of horses in each post station.

36 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 97. 37 Han shu 69, p. 2977.

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The level of meticulous documentation in identifying every single horse in one post station can be found in one excavated list of on-duty horses in the Xuanquan post station in 31 B.C.E. 10 horses are documented on this fragmentary list, one slip for each horse. The format is as follows: “Ownership, appearance, sex, location of marking, (special physical traits), age, height, (horse’s name), (additional notes).” For example, “One horse which is personal property, white-faced, male, marking on the left, age 7, height 5 chi 9 cun, [for] filling one vacancy in relay horses in the

Xuanquan post 私財物馬一匹，駹，牡，左剽，齒七歲，高五尺九寸，補縣(懸)

泉置傳馬缺.”38 In this fragmentary list, 8 were “relay horses 傳馬” and 2 were

“horses which are personal property.” This combination suggests that a designated number of horses must have had to be maintained in one post station. When the horse team was not at its full number, private horses were recruited to assist in performing routine tasks.

The health of each horse was also carefully monitored, presumably for ensuring that they would travel at the expected speed. An excavated document of 38 B.C.E. reads as follows: “Dated on Bingyin of the eighth month (first day Wuchen) in the first year of Jianzhao (i.e. 38 B.C.E.), Report submitted by Xin, the Aide of Stables in

Xuanquan: Formal statement. One relay horse, variegated zhe horse, male, marking on the left, age 9, height 5 chi 9 cun, [the horse’s] name is called Zhehong. The disease is of the lungs. [The horse] coughs out mucus and pus, and does not eat and drink the standard quantity [of food and water]. Herein I consult with [two] staff members

Suicheng and Jian for the diagnosis: the horse’s disease is of the lungs. [Symptom is]

38 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, pp. 81-82.

235 coughing out mucus and pus. It is examined and verified. The rest is the same as the formal statement. End of the report. 建昭元年八月丙寅朔戊辰，縣(懸)泉廄佐欣敢

言之：爰書：傳馬一匹，[馬+者]駮(駁)，牡，左剽，齒九歲，高五尺九寸，名

日[馬+者]鴻。病中肺，欬涕出睾，飲食不盡度。即與嗇夫遂成、建雜診：馬病

中肺，欬涕出睾，審證之。它如爰書。敢言之.”39 In the section of the formal statement, the first half follows the exact same format in the aforementioned register of horses. Such standardized identification of individual horses allowed all bureaucrats who read this document to know which horse was sick without having to actually see it. Also, the entire document had three post-station staff members sign on it to verify the accuracy of the diagnosis. The number of individuals responsible for submitting this information reflected the level of concern over each horse’s condition for performing expected tasks.

Such concern was certainly well-warranted, especially if horses were expected to travel at a designated speed for reaching a destination within a scheduled time. Several signs indicate that government bureaucrats had amassed enough knowledge to plan all types of movement in the Hexi Corridor. Granted the vast physical landscape, all these bureaucrats needed to know with precision was the distance between individual administrative sites. On the obverse side of one fragmentary wood plate in Dunhuang, a list registers the distances between counties and post stations across Wuwei, Zhangyi, and Jiuquan Commanderies.40 Fragments found in Juyan and Dunhuang also indicate that bureaucrats in the first centuries B.C.E. and C.E. were capable of estimating the

39 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 24. 40 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 56.

236 travel time between two sites. Quite a few fragments deal with late arrivals. One fragment inquires: “from Xianglu …a hundred and fiftynine li. The expected travel

[time] is 1 shi 6 fen. The exact travel [time] was 5 shi. The delay was 3 shi 4 fen. What is the explanation? …去降虜百五十九里。當行一時六分，定行五時。留遲三時

四分。解何？” This investigation would have been impossible had bureaucrats not known the normal length of time for traveling from one site to another. But without healthy horses that could travel at the expected speed, it would be difficult for conveyers to arrive at the destination as scheduled.

All the aforementioned documentation of resources and information, including human populations for staffing and maintaining the functioning of government facilities, a sufficient number of healthy horses at each site, information about distances from one site to another, average travel speed of animals over a particular terrain, and the approximate travel time, combined to make possble the writing of this sentence: “… Depart from Lufu on the Bingxu day of the fifth month and estimate that

[the trip will] take until the Gengyin day [for them] to arrive at Yuanquan 五月丙戌發

祿福，度用庚寅到淵泉.”41 This sentence is from a fragment about a Han emissary escorting foreign guests sent by their rulers such as the King of Yutian from the Tarim

Basin. This notification regarding foreign emissaries’ movement could happen only when the distance and terrain between Lufu and Yuquan had been surveyed and travel time tested.

This type of minute information about the Hexi Corridor was critical in that it not only allowed bureaucrats to monitor the incoming and outgoing of Han emissaries and

41 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 110.

237 foreign guests, but also offered preparation time for each post to gather necessary resources for properly hosting them. One slip suggests that not all items were produced right around post stations and thus shopping for provisions was neccesary:

“Issued cash 60 to purchase meat 10 jin, each jin was 6 cash, for provisioning 2 Qiang lords … 出錢六十，買肉十斤，斤六錢，以食羌豪二人…”42 As we do not have information about how far the post-station staff needed to travel to buy meat, it is hard to gauge the preparation time. But when the number of passing guests was much larger, it would be reasonable to speculate that the preparation time would greatly increase.

One document composed of 18 slips registers food items and units consumed in 61

B.C.E. for provisioning Chang Hui and his escorts, who frequently travelled back and forth between the Han court and the Tarim Basin. This list indicates that some items such as fish, sauce, and a certain amount of wine had to be supplied by the county government to the post station, since one passing team could exceed 70 people. One slip states that to host about 70 military officials, 180 jin of beef was consumed.43

Without knowing on which day how many guests would arrive, it would be impossible for one post station to provide sufficient food items for the kitchen.

Granted the limited data we have regarding the detailed routine for enabling the travel of Han and foreign emissaries between the imperial court and polities in the

Tarim Basin, it is still surmisable that each government facility was constantly sending and receiving information about how many people were departing and arriving at

42 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, p. 171. 43 Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, pp. 148-149. For a detailed survey about this list and its relation with Chanhui’s tasks in the Wusun, see Zhang Defang 張德芳, “‘Changluohou feiyongbu’ ji Changluohou yu Wusun guanxi kalue 《長羅侯費用簿》及長羅侯與烏孫關係考略” in Dunhuang Xuanquan Han jian shicui, pp. 230-246.

238 which site in what length of time, and then conducting the necessary preparations for the arrival. This was just one of the many tasks that the administrative infrastructure in the Hexi Corridor performed on a daily basis, all for enhancing the ties between the

Han court and polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin.

Negotiating Relational Hierarchies in the Political Landscape of East Eurasia

Although the Han court established a comprehensive infrastructure that stretched along the Hexi Corridor and reached out to scattered Han military bases in the Tarim

Basin to maintain its alliance network, it is important to reiterate that the existence of these facilities should not be treated as an indication that interstate interaction was highly stable and predictable between the Han and its allies. Quite the contrary, whether an ally continued to cooperate with the imperial court was depended on its own power-building strategies. As demonstrated at the beginning of this chapter, up until mid first century B.C.E. polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin constantly moved in and out of this Han-centered alliance network. While the imperial court seemed capable of consistently maintaining a critical number of allies for effective collaborative maneuvers, the participants were not necessarily the same. Even after all major powers to the east of the Pamir Mountains forged ties with the Han court in the late first century B.C.E., such connections could be severed within a few decades.

To conclude this chapter, we will elaborate on one factor that contributed to breaking interstate ties—the negotiation of power hierarchies between allied states.

After two polities allied with each other, their relationship did not simply stay the same until it suddenly broke. Given that the ultimate goal of cementing alliances was

239 for a polity to survive and expand its influence in East Eurasia, there was no reason that a ruling house would refrain from exploiting all available opportunities in regular interaction with allies to build its power. Contemporary records indeed show complex dynamics between the Han and its allies in negotiating and re-negotiating their relational hierarchies through routine interaction. While the Han court used multiple methods to widen status disparities with allied states, its allies also possessed many options to block these attempts. Only when the two parties managed to strike a balance in these subtle struggles for power-building could the Han alliance network be sustained.

The alliance between two polities was by no means based on the assumption that they were on an equal footing. On the contrary, there seemed to have been an unstated, continental-level consensus in interstate practice that led the two parties to negotiate their hierarchy from the beginning of their alliance. By the beginning of the second century B.C.E., polities across East Eurasia had generally forged state-level alliances through the exchange of royal children. One or both parties sent a princess-wife or hostage-prince as a human token to start their cooperation agreement. At the same time, this first action of alliance also mediated the first negotiation between the two allies over their hierarchy. As will be discussed below, such exchange was in itself a coded action for reaching a consensus between two polities regarding their relative status that could consequently determine one party’s capacity to demand cooperation from the other. The end of such an agreement was also signified by the disappearance of this human token, either by sending him or her back to the home country or refusing to install a replacement or killing the person. Therefore, when in around 135 B.C.E.

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Emperor Wu planned to challenge Xiongnu influence in East Eurasia, the first action he took was a refusal to send another Han princess to the chanyu. In around 45 B.C.E. when Zhizhi Chanyu was convinced that it was not in his interest to ally with the Han court, he requested his hostage-prince back and killed the Han emissaries who escorted this prince into the steppe. Another example was that when the minor Wusun king killed the major Wusun king (Liu Jieyou’s great-grandson) near 10 B.C.E., the

Han court immediately killed the minor Wusun king’s hostage-prince in the imperial capital.44

Royal children who stayed in allies’ courts were likely treated well and mingled frequently with allies’ governing elites unless the two polities’ ties were severed and things turned ugly. For instance, the first Han princess-wife of the Wusun king had her own palace and interacted with Wusun nobles through gift exchange. The main problem she had was the language barrier in communicating with her husband. The second Han princess in the Wusun (i.e. Liu Jieyou) not only interacted with Wusun nobles but further expanded her connections through her maid (i.e. Feng Liao) to the governing elite circles of states in the west side of the Tarim Basin.45 One last case was a Shache hostage-prince who was raised in the Han court during the reign of

Emperor Yuan (48 B.C.E.-33 B.C.E.). This prince was probably treated so well that after he returned to Shache and became the king, he not only referred to Han ceremonies and legal codes for his ruling of Shache but also admonished his sons to keep cooperating with the Han. For this reason, when the Han alliance network across the steppe and the Tarim Basin disintegrated in the early first century C.E., the new

44 Han shu 70, pp. 3008-3009; 94b, 3801; 96b, p. 3909. 45 See Chapter Three.

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Shache king, who was one son of this former hostage-prince in the Han, protected the surviving Han soldiers and their families in the outposts when all other former Han allies in the Tarim Basin turned away.46

While the exchange of royal children mediated the beginning and ending of interstate cooperation, more important was what happened in between when both polities manipulated this alliance to exploit the other party for its own power-building in East Eurasia. The very beginning of this cooperation agreement already represented the subtle competition between the two allies to settle which party was of higher status.

Documented cases of exchange in royal children suggested that such hierarchies were coded in the action of giving either princess-wives or hostage-princes or both to the new ally. As analyzed in Chapter 1, even when the Han court of the early second century B.C.E. interacted only with the Xiongnu and no other polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin, the Han giving of a princess-wife to the Xiongnu chanyu already implied the taker being recognized as more powerful. We have also examined a few examples of interstate interaction across East Eurasia in the first centuries B.C.E. and C.E. Two cases are discussed in Chapter 2—Loulan sent hostage-princes to both the Han and the Xiongnu, while the two powers gave a princess-wife to the Wusun for cementing marriage alliances. In addition, some unnamed small states in the Tarim

Basin also sent hostage-princes to the Han after its military campaign against Dayuan.

Two other cases are mentioned in this chapter. The Cheshi king both forged marriage alliance with and sent hostage-princes to the Xiongnu. When Zhizhi Chanyu allied with the King of Kangju, both rulers gave each other a daughter as wife.

46 Hou Han shu 78, p. 2923.

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Some common traits can be deduced from these exchanges of royal children.

Marriage alliance seemed more likely to be practiced between polities that recognized each other as of near-equal status. Meanwhile, hostage-taking was more common between states of greater disparity in power. The direction of taking and giving also implied status differences. Unidirectional giving, as in the case of hostage-taking, seemed to locate the giver in the weaker side of the relationship, ratifying the taker’s higher status. When the giving was mutual, however, it suggested strengthened ties, i.e. a declaration of more intimate relationship, between two ruling houses. Had only one universal alliance network existed in East Eurasia, this coded exchange of royal children for status negotiation would have conveniently aligned all polities across the continent in the following order. The unidirectional taker that never gave princess- wives and hostage-princes to other polities was the most influential, while the one that always gave hostage-princes and never took any back was the weakest.

Nonetheless, the status negotiated between two allied states through the exchange of royal children was neither permanently fixed nor as simple and straightforward as the theoretical summary above. Multiple options were available to states that agreed in the beginning to be in the weaker position to later re-negotiate the hierarchy or reduce the other party’s status in routine interactive activities. For one thing, the exchange of royal children was merely one of the many practices between two allied states for faciliating their ties. For another, as multiple alliance networks crisscrossed East

Eurasia, the asymmetrical relation between two polities had always to be placed within the continental system of complex interstate linkages and hierarchies. Both these factors created opportunities for a polity to offset the lower status symbolized in the

243 action of giving royal children to a particular ally. It was precisely because various possibilities existed for modifying the relational hierarchy inherent in the exchange of royal children that many ruling houses were willing to subject themselves to a lower position in relation to a particular ally, using this method as one of their survival or power-building strategies.

One example was Han strategies for modifying its hierarchical relation with the

Xiongnu in the second century B.C.E. As demonstrated in previous chapters, from the beginning of its existence the Han court had used a self-congratulating interpretation to downplay the implication of inferiority in giving princess-wives to either the

Xiongnu or the Wusun. Using kinship hierarchy, the Han court claimed that through princess-wives, future foreign rulers were turned into “grandchildren 外孫” of the Han, consequently placing the emperor in the superior position. The imperial court exploited this strategy of lowering its status in comparison to an influential ally first to survive in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions and second to become more powerful in the larger landscape of East Eurasia. By forging marriage alliances with the Xiongnu, the Han court minimized this ally’s political influence in the Yellow

River region, gaining enough time to consolidate its shaky rule. In the case of the Han marriage alliance with the Wusun, Emperor Wu and his successors benefitted greatly from securing a collaborator on the west end of the Tarim Basin for expanding its alliance network and undermining that of the Xiongnu.

But the Han court seemed not to be ignorant of the code shared across East

Eurasia in the exchange of royal children, suggested by its eagerness to switch from wife-giving to hostage-taking when circumstances allowed. In the case of its alliance

244 with the Xiongnu, once the Han court consolidated its rule in the Yellow and Yangtze

Rivers regions, it immediately terminated the practice of giving princess-wives to the

Xiongnu chanyu, severing the ties between two polities. In addition, while enganging in warfare in the late second century B.C.E., the Han and the Xiongnu engaged in a seesaw game of re-negotiating the format of their exchanges so as to stop the war. The

Xiongnu preferred to return to the format of taking princess-wives from the Han. But the Han not only refused to give princess-wives to the Xiongnu anymore but insisted on taking hostage-princes from the Xiongnu. No agreement was reached, and both powers ended exhausting themselves after decades of warfare.47 Their failure to reach an agreement reaffirmed the aforementioned system of coded implications in the exchange of royal children. From the Xiongnu perspective, marriage alliance recognized the Han as a near-equal. It was only the unidirectional giving of princess- wives that placed the Han in a slightly lower position—not necessarily a bad deal. On the other hand, a slightly lower position was no longer acceptable when the Han court was engaging in the most aggressive imperialist expansion in its history. Han insistence on taking hostage-princes from the Xiongnu was a bold policy that not only reversed the former hierarchy but further situated the Xiongnu in a much lower position. Considering these implications, it is no wonder that no agreement could be reached when the Xiongnu still viewed itself as the most influential power in East

Eurasia.

In the case of alliance with the Wusun, Han officials also took advantage of an event to terminate the sending of princess-wives to the king—the Wusun governing

47 Shi ji 110, pp. 2912-2913.

245 elites opted to establish a prince of a steppe mother as their new king instead of Liu

Jieyou’s son. Moreover, after the political crisis caused by Liu Jieyou was resolved, the format of royal-children exchange was altered—both the major and minor Wusun kings sent hostage-princes to the Han.48 While the alliance between the two continued, this changed format in a sense indicated that Liu Jieyou’s assassination plot and the subsequent arrangements in solving the crisis successfully compromised the Wusun’s negotiation power with the Han.

But it is important to note that there were more subtle ways than those used by the Han to offset the hierarchical implication in the exchange of royal children. Some cases suggest that polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin frequently blocked an aggressive hostage-taker’s claim for higher status in the context of routine, face-to- face interstate interaction conducted in a ruler’s meeting or dining room. That is to say, by treating differently representatives of various allies, a ruler could create an alternative interstate hierarchy on one occasion. Of course this method would have been impossible had all states across the steppe and the Tarim Basin no longer interacted with each other but only concentrated on the two alliance centers—the Han and the Xiongnu. But as mentioned in the beginning of this chapter, multiple polities in the Tarim Basin maintained their own alliance networks granted the presence of the two major powers. It was this complex crisscrossing of linkages among states that made a ruler’s meeting or dining room an interesting site to re-negotiate each state’s relative status.

The following examples demonstrate that by agreeing to give hostage-princes to

48 Han shu 78, p. 3279; 96b, pp. 3906-3909.

246 an ally, the giver symbolically placed itself in a lower position as a gesture to guarantee the taker’s cooperation for allied maneuvers. But such a gesture did not necessarily mean that the giver would treat the taker under all circumstances as its single most important superior in routine interactions. A hint of this appears in Feng

Fengshi’s mission to Dayuan in 65 B.C.E. When Feng Fengshi escorted Dayuan guests back to their home country, it was said that the King of Dayuan treated Feng Fengshi with exceptional respect and even let him take back Dayuan’s renowned top-quality horses, for the king had heard about his achievement in destroying the Shache alliance that had blocked the Han communication route. The excitement of the Han emperor and court officials about the king’s politeness implies that earlier Han emissaries were not treated well—for understandable reasons. Initially, Feng Fengshi was selected as the Dayuan guests’ escort precisely because Emperor Xuan (r. 73 B.C.E.-49 B.C.E.) was aware that earlier Han emissaries “mostly failed to carry out their mission or were corrupt, causing worries to outer (i.e. foreign) states. 多辱命不稱，或貪汙，為外國

所苦.”49 In other words, as Han emissaries were incapable of conducting their own behavior properly, allied rulers were justified in not treating Han emissaries with respect despite their continuing cooperation with requests from the imperial court.

However, when such disrespect was compared with the king’s treatment of emissaries from other allied states, the presumed higher status of the Han was immediately compromised regardless of its role as the taker of royal children. Considering that the

Han court had been taking hostage-princes from polities in the Tarim Basin since its expedition against Dayuan in 100 B.C.E., this discrepancy between single symbolic

49 Han shu 79, p. 3294.

247 gesture and routine interactions in interstate hierarchies could have lasted for decades until Feng Fengshi’s mission.

Even after all polities to the east of the Pamir Mountains, including both the

Xiongnu and the Wusun, sent hostage-princes to the Han in the later first century

B.C.E., these polities continued to maintain their own alliance networks and sort out alternative hierarchies through routine interaction with allies. It was particularly the case in the interstate interaction between Kangju, the Xiongnu, and the Wusun. A

Protector-General in the reign of Emperor Cheng (r. 32 B.C.E.-7 B.C.E.) viewed this phenomenon as a challenge to the Han court’s status, and thus submitted several reports questioning the real motives of Kangju’s sending of hostage-princes and suggesting that the imperial court discontinue taking them. Some points in his reports relevant to current discussion are as follows: “… Although the Han has taken hostage- princes from all of them (i.e. Kangju, the Wusun, and the Xiongnu), among themselves the three states supply each other and exchange gifts, interacting with each other as they did in the past. … When the officials of the Protector-General reach the state (Kangju), they are seated below the emissaries of the Wusun and other states.

After the king and the nobles have finished their food and drink, then the officials of the Protector-General are served. … Dunhuang and Jiuquan, which are small commanderies, and eight states along the southern route have supplied provision to people, horses, donkeys, and camels for [sustaining] the coming and going of [Han and foreign] emissaries, and have suffered thereby. It is not [our] best strategy to in vain wear out and exhaust the places enroute to escort and welcome [emissaries from] an arrogant, cunning, and far-away state. …漢雖皆受其質子，然三國內相輸遺，交

248

通如故；…都護吏至其國，坐之烏孫諸使下，王及貴人先飲食已，乃飲啗都護

吏，…敦煌酒泉小郡及南道八國，給使者往來人馬驢橐駝食，皆苦之。空罷耗

所過，送迎驕黠絕遠之國，非至計也.”50

This Protector-General seemed to adopt a more imperialist reading of the practice of hostage-taking. He first complained that after sending hostage-princes to the Han, the three states continued to interact with each other as usual. The underlying assumption was that after hostage-givers forged alliances with the Han court, they should abandon their own alliance network and merely adhere to the Han. But it is important to note that since the establishment of the Han state, the only systematic imperial blocking of other rulers’ alliance building was in dealing with subordinate

Han kings of the early second century B.C.E. Granted that in Emperor Wu’s reign Li

Guangli also used the same reason to take away Qiuci’s hostage-prince sent by Yumi, this was an isolated incident. No documentation suggested that the imperial court ever systematically took action forcing all its hostage-givers to discontinue their alliances with other polities. By arguing that Kangju should not have interacted with the Wusun and the Xiongnu, this Protector-General essentially perceived these states not as weaker allies but as subordinate rulers.

His second complaint was about the seating order and the ways in which the

Kangju king treated Han emissaries. As the King of Kangju seated emissaries from the

Wusun and other polities in higher positions than those from the Protector-General, he interpreted this arrangement as a deliberate defiance of the Han’s status as the supreme taker of hostage-princes from all states to the east of the Pamir Mountains. Apparently

50 Han shu 96a, pp. 3892-3893.

249 he believed that the Han role as a supreme taker of royal children should have translated into the Kangju king’s treating of Han emissaries as the most important guests. But polities such as the Wusun were adjacent to Kangju in comparison with the

Han far to the east, this seating order could have simply reflected the physical distance of these states—hence relevance and frequency in interstate interaction—from the standpoint of Kangju. With reference to the eating order at the dining table, we do not know if there was any customary reason for having the king and nobles of Kangju eat first and Han emissaries later. Nonetheless, the Protector-General’s dissatisfaction was not entirely unjustified. Regardless of the king’s reason, a physical action such as seating arrangment had great potential to compromise on one particular occasion the symbolic hierarchy between the givers and the taker.

His concluding suggestion was particularly interesting if we take into consideration the Protector-General’s statement in his reports about why Kangju sent hostage-princes to the Han and why the Han court should stop accepting these. He suspected Kangju’s motives as follows: “it (i.e. Kangju) wants to trade. Being amicable is a rhetorical pretense. 其欲賈市，為好，辭之詐也.” Then he explained that the frontier commanderies in the Hexi Corridor and the allied states along the southern route had been heavily burderned by hosting passing Han and foreign emissaries. Thus he concluded that the Han court should not waste resources on an

“arrogant” state. His reports entailed two presuppositions. First, states would actively place themselves in the weaker position through giving hostage-princes to increase the chance to forge an alliance with a wealthy polity. Second, the Protector-General’s reasons for cutting off Kangju from the Han alliance network alluded to one advantage

250 that Han allies could enjoy—exploiting the Han communication infrastructure to move around the Tarim Basin and the Hexi Corridor without having to worry about provisioning. As this Protector-General hinted that allied states and frontier commanderies had the obligation to supply only Han allies, if Kangju was indeed interested in trade, the most useful benefit of forging alliances with the Han court would be these provisioned routes.

While both Han emperors and court officials were concerned about whether the hierarchies negotiated through the taking of hostage-princes were reinforced in routine interstate interactions, the Han court of the late first century B.C.E. seemed less inclined to adopt the imperialist interpretation of hostage-taking manifested in this

Protector-General’s reports. In the case of this Protector-General, he seemed to regard hostage-givers as subordinates rather than allies of lower status. This assumption led him to portray Kangju’s alliance network and its treatment of Han emissaries vis-à-vis those of other polities as actions that should be “punished” through refusing to take its hostage-princes. But the Han court maintained its ties with Kangju and never took any action to terminate Kangju’s alliance activities as this Protector-General suggested.

This Han prudence in not translating ideological claims of imperial superiority into an assertion of dominance in action was the reason why the Han alliance network of the late first century B.C.E. seemed stable on the surface. Its struggles with foreign polities over status were played out in subtle maneuvers such as manipulating allied states’ succession lines, expanding Han influence in foreign polites’ governing elite circles, taking royal children as hostages, changing a ruler’s treatment of Han emissaries, et cetera. The Feng Fengshi case was the only incident that ended in

251 destroying another state’s alliance network. But first of all, this was an action unauthorized and also unrewarded by the imperial court, although the emperor was excited about its positive impact on Han power-building in the Tarim Basin. Second, after killing the Shache leader who obstructed the Han communication route, Feng

Fengshi simply installed this leader’s brother as the new Shache king and continued his journey to Dayuan. The Han court also did not conduct any follow-up actions to exploit this destruction of Shache’s alliance network to assert Han dominance.51

But the most revealing example was the Han handling of Huhanye Chanyu’s alliance with the Han since 53 B.C.E. Huhanye’s sending of hostage-princes to the

Han was unprecedented in the history of the two polities’ interactions. After this symbolic gesture of placing himself in a much lower position, Huhanye reinforced this degradation by visiting the Han capital and proposing to assist in guarding Han outposts outside the Yellow River loop. It is uncertain whether, in the political context of the steppe and the Tarim Basin, a ruler’s visit to another ruler’s capital carried any significant meaning. For instance, the Qiuci king seemed quite comfortable joining his new wife, Liu Jieyou’s daughter, to visit the Han capital in 65 B.C.E. However, in the

Han context, subordinate Han kings had the obligation to visit the imperial capital regularly. In other word, this physical move indicated one ruler’s subordinate status to the Han emperor. In this sense, Huhanye was placing himself, either intentionally or accidentally, in the position of a subordinate.

While certain Han officials attempted to exploit this opportunity to translate claims of imperial superiority into reality, in the end the Han court chose otherwise.

51 Han shu 79, p. 3294.

252

Imperial debates were held regarding which level of ritual to be used to welcome

Huhanye Chanyu. All court officials perceived Huhanye’s visit as an action that turned the Xiongnu into a subordinate state of the Han. Consequently, those who took a more imperialist stance suggested that rituals for welcoming subordinate kings should be used. Had this proposal been accepted, the Han court would have been asserting dominance over Huhanye and his state. But one official named Xiao Wangzhi 蕭望之 argued that the Xiongnu had been a “rival state 敵國” and should not be treated as a subordinate. Even though its ruler expressed his willingness, the imperial court should

“modestly decline and not to rule [it] 讓而不臣” so that in the future if the Xiongnu did not duly perform expected obligations, “it would not be considered a rebellious subordinate 不為畔臣.” In his opinion, this method had the following advantages:

“[Han reputation of being] trustworthy and modest will flow among the barbarians, and auspicious fortune will extend without end. 信讓行乎蠻貉，福祚流於亡窮.”52

The rationale behind this argument was that both the Han court and its subordinates had obligations to observe their hierarchy. The subordinate had to perform expected duties as a regular reconfirmation of its status. The failure to do so was a sign of rebellion. The imperial court either had to punish a rebellious subordinate or lose its authority. Accordingly, unless the Xiongnu could duly perform the expected obligations of a subordinate state forever, the Han court should keep its status as a peer, avoiding the potential trouble of either having to wage a war of punishment or losing

Han credibility as a ruler.

52 Han shu 78, p. 3282.

253

The final decision of the Han court in welcoming Huhanye in 51 B.C.E. as a guest rather than a subordinate demonstrated a clear understanding that regardless of ideological rhetoric, hostage-givers were not ruled by the taker but merely cooperative allies in the weaker position. Xiao Wangzhi’s reasoning also showed that it was not in the Han’s interest to dominate polities that it would have difficulty in punishing in war.

The discrepancy between imperialist claims and actual practices is reconfirmed by the imperial court’s continued lack of interest in exploiting Huhanye and his successors’ cooperation to assert Han dominance. In 3 B.C.E. some court officials even considered stopping the Xiongnu chanyu’s visit to the imperial capital, granted that such action was quite flattering. One reason for this proposal was the massive expenditure of resources for each of the chanyu’s visits. The other, in some ways more interesting, was that when the chanyu proposed another visit to the Han capital, the emperor was sick. A supernatural theory was consequently developed among court officials: “the Xiongnu are coming from the upper reaches [of the Yellow River] to press down people (i.e. the emperor). Since the years of Huanglong and Jingning, everytime the chanyu visited the Middle Kingdom, a Han emperor died. 匈奴從上游

來厭人。自黃龍、竟寧時，單于朝中國，輒有大故.” 53 This was referring to

Huhanye’s two visits in 49 and 33 B.C.E. Emperor Xuan died in the former year and

Emperor Yuan the latter.54 The implication of this theory was that even after the

Xiongnu had been highly cooperative with the Han for decades, the Han court was not fully reassured that it was truly in a higher position than the Xiongnu. This theory was

53 Han shu 94b, p. 3812. 54 Han shu 94b, p. 3798 and p. 3803.

254 essentially arguing that while the Xiongnu had been a hostage-giver and reinforced its lower position by regularly visiting the imperial capital, the chanyu remained capable of exerting supernatural power that pressured Han emperors to death. Although the emperor eventually decided not to halt the chanyu’s visit, these discussions showed how the Han refrained from exploiting their allies’ cooperation to skew their asymmetrical relations so as to assert dominance.

Han refusal in the late first century B.C.E. to aggressively assert dominance over cooperative allies created a fragile equilibrium in the Han alliance network, in which the Han used its role as supreme hostage-taker to make ideological claims about imperial superiority while its allies used their lower position in the alliance to get access to Han-supplied resources. All parties co-existed and sought their own power- building in East Eurasia through this alliance network. Unfortunately, such balance did not last for long. After Wang Mang, a top official with a highly imperialist stance, came to control decision-making in the court, he began to take aggressive actions to turn ideological claims into reality.

The disintegration of the Han alliance network in the early first century B.C.E. proves that while polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin could accept a lower position in the alliance, they were by no means willing to be dominated. However, it is important to note that when Wang Mang attempted to push for imperial dominance in the name of the Han court, these allies at first tried to comform to imperial requests.

One move of Wang Mang to assert Han dominance was to intervene into the

Xiongnu’s alliance-building activities. In around 3 B.C.E. when two kings in the Tarim

Basin turned to the Xiongnu for protection, the chanyu agreed and notified the Han

255 court. When Wang Mang demanded that the chanyu expel the two kings, the latter cited the earlier agreements between Huhanye Chanyu and Emperors Xuan and Yuan that had been in use for decades to argue for his right to keep the two kings: “…To the south of the long walls is owned by the Son of the Heaven; to the north of the long walls is owned by the Chanyu. … These [two kings and their followers] are [from] outer states, [therefore I] can receive them. …自長城以南，天子有之；長城以北，

單于有之。…此外國也，得受.” Nonetheless, the Han court not only insisted on removing the two kings, but annulled the original agreements, issuing new ones to forbid the chanyu from accepting the “surrender” of people from the Han, the Wusun, polities in the Tarim Basin that possessed Han-issued seals, and the Wuhuan.55 The original Han agreements recognized that the Xiongnu had full control over its traditional sphere of power. The newly issued agreements, however, outlawed the

Xiongnu’s alliance-building activities by disallowing the chanyu from accepting any surrender, i.e. alliance proposal, from neighboring polities. These attempts to undermine the Xiongnu alliance network could be considered early moves by Wang

Mang to degrade the Xiongnu to the position of a subordnate.

This negotiation over the issue of accepting surrender was certainly not the only time that the Han court asserted dominance and the chanyu resisted. As early as in 8

B.C.E., Wang Mang’s uncle insinuated that Han emissaries to the Xiongnu should demand from the chanyu the land near Zhanyi Commandery. The chanyu resisted by sending emissaries to confirm with Emperor Cheng whether this was truly an imperial

55 Han shu 94b, pp. 3818-3819.

256 request. This time Wang Mang’s uncle yielded due to the emperor’s intervention.56 But when Wang Mang took control of the Han court, he not only began to hamper the

Xiongnu’s alliance activities through new agreements, but even attempted to assert cultural superiority by suggesting that the chanyu adopt a Han-style name. The chanyu cooperated in these two negotiations until Wang Mang usurped the Han throne in 9

C.E. and officially demoted the chanyu’s status to that of a subordinate by changing the wording of the chanyu’s seal.57 The cumulative pressure that the imperialist Wang family had exerted on the chanyu reached the breaking point with this incident of the seal change. From this point on the chanyu no longer cooperated with any requests from Wang Mang’s court and broke away from the alliance network.

Han assertion of dominance was not confined to its interaction with the Xiongnu.

The Protector-General, who apparently held an imperialist stance in handling interstate relations, had been killing people to coerce allies in the Tarim Basin. The two kings had to seek Xiongnu protection in around 3 B.C.E. precisely because of this Protector-

General. In the case of the Rear King of Cheshi, he was imprisoned by an outpost colonel for his reluctance to discuss the division of land. Considering that the

Protector-General had killed the Front King of Cheshi for unrecorded reasons, this imprisoned king escaped and ran to the Xiongnu for protection. In the other case, the

Protector-General failed to respond to a request for rescue from the Quhulai king, who had been attacked by the Qiang. When the king turned to the westernmost Han controlpoint in the Hexi Corridor for help, the officials at the Yumen Gate refused to admit him. The helpless king ended by taking his followers into the steppe for

56 Han shu 94b, p. 3810. 57 Han shu 94b, pp. 3820-3821; 99b, p. 4115.

257

Xiongnu protection. Wang Mang apparently interpreted their action as a challenge to imperial dominance. After the chanyu surrendered the two kings to the Han emissaries,

Wang Mang demanded the execution of both in front of all allied rulers in the Tarim

Basin. In 10 C.E., the new Rear King of Cheshi was again killed by the Protector-

General because the king had attempted to escape to the Xiongnu due to his state having been exhausted by the constant provisioning of Han emissaries.58

In the cases listed above, both Wang Mang and military officials in the Han outposts demonstrated an inflated belief that they had the authority to freely assemble, arrest, and kill allied rulers in the Tarim Basin. The action of gathering all allied rulers at one spot for a public execution of two kings was especially surprising. While these allies in the beginning remained cooperative with arrests or requests to assemble, such policies of imperial dominance from 10 C.E. provoked polities to break away from the alliance network. The contrast between the Han court of the late first century B.C.E. and Wang Mang in dealing with allied states could not be sharper. And the extremely different outcomes in their relations with other polities in East Eurasia also shows the significance of understanding the discrepancies between ideological claims of imperial superiority and interstate practices based on a continental consensus. Power-building was effective only when the imperial court was capable of recognizing the complex dynamics of negotiation processes in interstate relations and responding accordingly.

58 Han shu 94b, p. 3822; 96b, pp. 3924-3927.

258

Conclusion

This dissertation surveys the two-century trajectory that transformed the Han state from a regional polity confined to the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to a trans-regional superpower, exerting its influence across East Eurasia. Two major mechanisms facilitated the process. One was horizontal kin ties between the Han emperor and peer rulers. This kinship-based mechanism first secured the existence of the Han state in its first half century through cementing a coalition between the emperor and subordinate Han kings to co-govern the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. It then served as a critical institution for expanding imperial influence across the political landscape of East Eurasia by forging a Han-centered alliance network that connected the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions, the steppe, and the Tarim Basin.

The other was the vertically-structured imperial bureaucracy that organized and incorporated communities of diverse backgrounds in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions to sustain and promote the Han emperor’s influence at both the regional and the continental levels. This institution went through three stages of developments. The first half century of the Han state witnessed an eastward and southward expansion of imperial bureaucracy to take over the governing power from subordinate Han kings and their bureaucracies in the eastern side of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions.

The second stage was characterized by aggressive re-structuring and elaboration of the bureaucratic system and its westward expansion into the Hexi Corridor. The former heightened imperial abilities to extract more service and resources from the Yellow

259 and Yangtze Rivers regions, which in turn allowed them to extend imperial influence in the larger political landscape of East Eurasia. The latter generated an administrative route for the Han court to communicate with and campaign against foreign polities on the steppe and in the Tarim Basin. After long-distance military expeditions proved to be a self-destructive approach to imperial power-building, the function of the imperial bureaucracy also changed. It served to facilitate the reciprocity between the Han emperor and the governed in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions in the form of disaster relief, while maintaining the infrastructure for the trans-regional Han alliance network, consequently reducing the need to launch long-distance warfare.

The Han court of the first century B.C.E. proved practical enough to balance its ambitions of power-building with the interests of its support bases and allied states.

Only when the Wang family came to dominate the Han court in the late first century

B.C.E. did imperial actions became more ideology-driven, paying less heed to complex and dynamic network linkages that constituted the foundation of imperial power. In particular, Wang Mang’s ignoring of political reality in East Eurasia resulted in the loosening and breaking of imperial ties with allies in distant lands and with support bases in the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers regions. However, his usurpation of the throne ironically created a chance for the Han state to re-emerge in the political landscape of East Eurasia. Blaming all mismanagement of the Han court at the turn of the first century B.C.E. on Wang Mang, members of the Han ruling house established a new polity that was also named Han. In a sense, this naming was mainly to exploit the reputation of the imperial court in achieving balanced power-building from mid to late first century B.C.E. This new Han state had its own patterns of organizing support

260 bases and distributing resources that did not necessarily follow those of the Han state in the previous two centuries. One example was the much reduced circulation of population between frontier and inner commanderies. While the new Han court continued the one-way migration that used impoverished groups to populate frontier commanderies, the two-way, periodical circulation of conscripts was no longer a regular practice.1 This change was one crucial factor that drove the processes of localization especially in the Hexi Corridor. But this study will have to wait until my second project to analyze the intertwining in the same space of long-term residents moved in from the east, affiliated states of the Han, and foreign groups.

1 See Mark Edward Lewis, “The Han Abolition of Universal Military Service,” in Hans Van de Ven (ed.), Warfare in Chinese History (Leiden: Brill, 2000), pp. 33-76.

261

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