The roads of ideas, faith, commodities, disease, and disaster

A review of “The Silk Roads” by Peter Frankopan

Cover of “The Silk Roads: A New History of the World” by Peter Frankopan.

Cover of “The Silk Roads: A New History of the World” by Peter Frankopan.

Frankopan, P. (2017).  The Silk Roads: A New History of the World.  Vintage Books.  647 pages.

Overview

Images of sand, camels, crude oil, religious conflict, terror, and people clothed from head to toe in baggy garbs often come to the average westerner’s mind when thinking about the Middle East and Central Asia.  Though these images may be rooted in some truth, they are far too simplistic and do poor justice for the region’s rich history.  Thankfully, some are willing to share their knowledge and insights about this area, which has played a pivotal role in shaping humanity since the dawn of civilization. 

 

Peter Frankopan, a historian based at Oxford University, elucidates this region’s remarkable story in The Silk Roads: A New History of the World (2017).  His main goals, as stated in the preface, are to:

embolden others to study peoples and places that have been ignored by scholars for generations by opening up new questions and new areas of research…to prompt new questions to be asked about the past, and for truisms to be challenged and scrutinised…[and] to inspire those who read this book to look at history in a different way.  (p. xix).

For this review, I will explore some of the general historical patterns of this region, how Frankopan challenges such truisms and why the historical records presented in this book will remain relevant today and likely for the future.  We owe it to ourselves to learn more about others, especially those often ignored.  This book is a great start.

 

What are the Middle East’s and Central Asia’s general historical patterns?

Below, I provide examples of common historical patterns throughout this rich, tumultuous region.  These historical may be helpful for our current times.

 

Gift-giving may backfire.  Great powers attempt to forge alliances through gift-giving and appeasement of their enemies or already existing allies of whom they are suspicious.  It sounds like a common-sense policy; you can attract more flies with honey than vinegar, right?  But it’s not that simple.  Han rulers in China in 1 BC gave wine, rice, and many rolls of silk and raw material for clothing to the barbarian Xiongnu tribe, who flourished throughout the Mongolian steppes and northern China, just by Xinjiang, in exchange for peace.  The Han rulers thought this would also convince the Xiongnu to adopt Chinese customs.  Instead, it was politically weak diplomacy, and the tribes believed they were superior.  Sure enough, invasions continued (p. 11). 

 

Many centuries later, Napoleon’s attack on Russia in June 1812 meant Britain would sacrifice its ties with Persia.  The British were increasingly angered with Persia for the constant gift-giving and felt the Persians were ungrateful and egoists (p. 274-275).  Britain realized it was better to ally with Russia.  As a result, Persia lost large swaths of land (the western flank of the Caspian in particular) following their defeat in the Russo-Persian wars and signed the Gulistan treaty.

 

The examples above demonstrate that gift-giving without specifying anything in return is foolish.  Countries should avoid gift-giving entirely if dealing with groups with fundamentally different cultures, values, and politics, so long as they do not depend on them for trade or defence.  But there are also lessons for the recipients.  Recipients should remain suspicious; foreign powers giving gifts usually have ulterior motives.  Additionally, if a receiver chooses to accept donations and favours, they should at least make some effort to return the favour; otherwise, the tides could quickly turn for the worse. 

 

Former enemies will unite against a common threat or foe.  We humans can put aside our differences and cooperate on large scales to achieve common objectives.  Throughout history, this has often meant uniting against other, threatening people.  “The Silk Roads” is replete with examples of horse-mounted tribespeople putting an end to civilizations and giving their neighbours hell.  The situation was so bad for Rome and Persia that these two mortal enemies decided to collaborate to keep these tribesmen at bay.  Between roughly 395 and 402, Rome provided financial and military aid to construct a 125-mile wall between the Caspian and Black Seas for protection (p. 47) – it is hilarious how building walls remain a solution to keeping unwanted foreigners out, even to this day.

 

But these steppe people are relentless, it seems.  From 434 to 453, Atilla the Hun wreaked havoc and terror across Europe for nearly fifteen years, notably in the Balkans.  But everything changed when he set his eyes west towards Europe.  At the Battle of Catalaunian Plains in 451 in central France, Atilla and his Huns were finally defeated by a large force of former enemies of the Huns, including, astonishingly, various races of steppe peoples (p. 49).  Though he was not extinguished in battle, the armies repelled Atilla and won. 

 

Most of us probably do not have to fight off barbarian hordes today, but the central lesson one can glean from these stories is that we can unite against a common threat when necessary.  It may be naïve, but we should try to remain hopeful that our species can set aside our differences in race, nationality, and politics so that we may better address the most serious global issues.

 

There will always be a battle over ideas, especially in desperate times.  Islam’s rise is arguably one the best examples of how ideas, regardless of their merits, may spread like wildfire when people become despondent and powerless in the wake of immense pressures.  To cut a long story short, the prophet Muhammad, like many others for his time and place, started having visions around 610 (p. 71).  He fled persecution to Yathrib (Medina) in 622 due to his unappreciated proselytizing in Mecca (p. 73).  All of this was happening in the middle of a Persian-Roman war, which caused an economic contraction in Arabia and, ultimately, reduced people’s living standards (p. 72).  Between 628 and 632, amid the violence, misery, and weakened Persian and Roman hegemons, many people throughout the region embraced Islam (the faith itself spread through violence).  A self-reinforcing cycle, the spoils of war from the Muslim conquests attested to Islam’s adherents’ supposed godly support. 

 

The rise of Islam shows us that socio-economic conditions influence the types of ideas adopted, not necessarily godly intervention.  Policymakers need to understand that when people are desperate, they might be likelier to cling to extreme thinking and practices.  It remains logical to direct policies to improve people’s material well-being, health, and safety more than anything else.

 

How does Frankopan challenge truisms and force us to view history differently?

Frankopan highlights the scientific and philosophical advancements from the Muslim world.  The author explains how both Muslims and non-Muslims flocked “to the court of Baghdad and to centres of academic excellence across Central Asia…, as well as further afield in Islamic Spain and in Egypt, to work on a range of subjects including mathematics, philosophy, physics and geography” (p. 94).  Scholars translated numerous texts on various subjects from Syriac, Persian, and Greek into Arabic.  The scholarly vibe of Baghdad was so intense that “Education and learning became a cultural ideal,” explains Frankopan.  He provides several examples of the types of texts translated and mentions how some scholars of this time significantly shaped humanity’s understanding of the universe.  One notable example is how Abu Rayhan al-Biruni (973 to 1038 AD) “established that the world revolves around the sun and rotates on an axis.” (p. 94).

 

It is probably difficult for many westerners, or even those living in the Muslim world, to fully appreciate the importance of Muslim science amid today’s violence and fundamentalism.  It’s why books like “The Silk Roads” are necessary reading.  Readers may notice the parallels between medieval Christian Europe and today’s Muslim world regarding science.  In Medieval Europe, Christian fundamentalism thwarted new forms of thinking and experimentation, and many Arab-Muslims at the time were uninterested in studying Europe and its philosophies since it was of little use to them.  Today, the opposite is true (p. 96).  Religion in the Middle East stifles scientific debate and inquiry, and learning about their societies is of little importance to most westerners.  History seems to repeat itself, but sometimes with different people and places.

 

Frankopan clarifies that the barbarians of the steppe were not savages.  Contrary to widespread belief, Asia’s steppe nomads did not wander aimlessly and kill indiscriminately.  Frankopan explains that it was logical for Central Asian nomads and their livestock’s health to search for better pastures continuously.  They were also highly organized in trade and commerce through fur, horses, amber, and other agricultural produce (p. 102-103), rather than merely pillaging.  To be clear, however, they were excellent pillagers.  Consider the Mongols.  Their attacks were not random and arbitrary.  They planned everything carefully and ensured to cause mass destruction and death upon contact.  Sometimes, this involved killing all dogs and cats and making piles of human bodies to scare others into submission to spare all others.  It is also worth mentioning that they would rob and leave everyone destitute.  However, they would draw in locals from surrounding areas for infrastructure projects and maintain orchards and fields to ensure goodwill among diverse people.  They were also resourceful unafraid to adopt technologies, like catapults, to use against others when the opportunities arose (p. 154-159). 

 

Reading these passages shows us why the work of historians like Frankopan is essential.  Presenting different perspectives allows us to understand history more objectively.  It reminds us that not all cultures and people are painted fairly, while others may have received too much praise.  In an age where self-flagellating activists topple statues from their plinths, cancel holidays, or boycott ideas and places bearing the monikers of controversial historical figures, it is worth reminding ourselves that nothing in human history is morally perfect, especially the people.

 

Frankopan reminds us that slavery was not unique to the American south.  It might surprise many that being a slave at one point in time was probably something more synonymous with European identity amongst other cultures.  As Frankopan explains, Muslims captured so much of the Slav population that their identity exemplified their indenture, hence the word “slave” (p. 114).  The slave trade was so pervasive that even the Nordic societies participated (p. 115) – of course, Scandinavians weren’t the welcoming, laid-back ‘socialists’ as we know them today.  It may also shock modern readers that there were slave-buying guide books.  For example, the “Qabus-nama,” used in the Arabic-speaking world, described the advantages and appropriate uses between different ethnic slave groups.  We must learn about these inhumane and sickening practices to see how far we have come so that we may see the similarities in our ancestor’s histories.  Despite what racists, nationalists, or post-modernists may think, we all have blood on our hands if we look far enough into the past.  

 

Frankopan provides crucial context that explains the troubled Middle East today.  Today, political issues afflicting the Middle East result from poor leadership and various tribes’ inability or unwillingness to cooperate.  That is not to suggest that the vestiges of Ottoman and western institutions have not had lasting negative consequences, even if they officially ended in the twentieth century. 

 

Consider, for example, the importance of oil in the region for Britain in the early twentieth century.  Britain’s navy understood that moving from coal to oil was imperative for security since oil-run ships were faster and nimbler (p. 321).  Seven days before Franz Ferdinand’s assassination in 1914, the British government bought 51% of the shares of Anglo-Persian, securing their ownership of the energy (p. 322).  Frankopan explains that Britain was more concerned about maintaining its colonial extension and wealth through Anglo-Persian, not as much as preventing Iran from becoming communist (p. 398).  As an empire in retreat, Britain launched a coup, levied sanctions, and made threats, which further ruined their reputation and increased Persian nationalism and resentment towards foreigners.  The situation worsened when Mohammad Mosaddegh, the prime minister of Iran from 1951 to 1953, nationalized Anglo-Persian in September 1951.  British employees had a week to leave (p. 398). 

 

The US also played their part, collaborating with religious mullahs, clerics, and scholars.  The US and these religious groups made good bedfellows because of their shared distrust and disdain towards communism, which supported atheism (p. 401-403).  It set the stage for religious chauvinism to permeate for the decades ahead. 

 

Considering the underhanded foreign policy of these two great Western powers in the Middle East, it’s unsurprising why the region is tumultuous and why many throughout the Muslim world despise the West, believing in a foolish conspiracy that the West and Israel are trying to eradicate them.  Take note, international affairs students.

 

Why is this book relevant?

Several key insights from this book are worth briefly highlighting for our times and the future.  I will provide five below.

 

Security is essential for trade and development.  Trade and travel throughout Eurasia were only possible in the 13th and 14th centuries because the Mongols maintained the routes, standardized laws, and protected merchants (p. 178).  Their actions are a testament to why the monopolization of violence is necessary to protect trade, fostering growth.  Rising powers, like China, are playing an increased role in the policing of commerce through their belt and road initiatives.  It is reminiscent of what William J. Bernstein discusses throughout his book, “A Splendid Exchange” (2009), on the importance of policing key geographic chokepoints to ensure the fair and safe travel of goods and people across the globe.  Trade will always require muscle. 

 

Societies should attempt to spend within their means.  Grandiose infrastructure projects, government corruption, and exuberant, frivolous spending ultimately caused a financial bubble burst and a credit crunch in China by the 1420s.  Even the wealthiest regions could not make their payments.  Officials we forced to cease the naval expeditions and the Grand Canal’s construction, which many relied upon for employment (p. 193). 

 

It is a valuable lesson for today’s officials who are hellbent on increasing their debts and deficits.  If China had been more prudent and made efforts to develop its financial markets (to borrow at lower interest rates), they may have been able to maintain their naval voyages in the Indian Pacific Oceans or even set sail to the Americas.  I’ll admit that last point is undoubtedly considerable speculation, but the world’s political geography may be hugely different nonetheless had China been more scrupulous with public monies.  It is a telling case since a commonly supported policy approach is to double-down on infrastructure development and label the spending as an “investment,” especially on projects to facilitate more efficient trade.  However, the accumulation of physical assets may become a liability if done recklessly due to the necessary and constant maintenance.  The motto “if you build it, they will come” does not ring true if governments cannot satisfy other criteria, such as the rule of law, property rights, and the freedom for people to efficiently conduct business, trade, save, and invest.

 

One’s gain can be another’s loss.  The Spaniard’s establishment of the Manilla trade route in 1517 made it possible to trade via the Pacific rather than pass through Europe for Asian goods, including the silver used to pay for such goods (p. 232).  As a result, the new Manilla trade route undercut the Ottoman Empire’s lucrative position and weakened financial capacities (p. 232-233).  On the other hand, China benefited greatly from the influx of silver from the New World and manufactured luxury goods, such as porcelain and silk, which catered to European demands. 

 

The key lesson here, as frustratingly simple as it may sound, is to never rest on your laurels.  The Ottomans did not make an effort to establish trade routes elsewhere or develop their naval capacity.  Consequently, they were outwitted and suffered.  Establishing new and multiple trade routes and supply chains remains relevant today.  Suppose countries wish to either sustain or improve their competitiveness.  They must be open to the flow of goods and people from wherever they can find them or run the risk of paying high prices via intermediaries.  Additionally, they may lose out to competing manufacturers capable and driven enough to exploit the new arrangements.

 

This lesson is especially important for a country like Canada.  Canada is far too reliant on the US for trade and security despite the amicable relationship.  It would not be much of an issue if the internal economy were relatively open and free, yet the atrocious record on inter-provincial trade says otherwise.  A 2020 report from the C.D. Howe Institute titled, “Boost Internal Trade with Key Reforms to CFTA,” for example, argues that “Canada’s GDP would grow 4 percent by eliminating internal trade barriers” and that the current legal framework imposes a near “7 percent tariff on goods crossing provincial boundaries.”  It should be a wake-up call for Canadians in all provinces and territories.

 

Foreign policy will remain complicated and contradictory.  Appeasing rogue powers may not always work in our favour, just as being hostile.  The irony of the US’s fight against communism in the USSR’s southern flank countries resulted in the opposite of the US’s goals: military strongmen rose to power who quashed all forms of resistance, and they directed much of the US aid to their military budgets.  Democracy and free markets could not flourish.  

 

Consider the case of Ayub Khan leading a successful military coup against communism in Pakistan in 1958.  The US was more than happy to provide Khan with weapons and infrastructure for airbases to spy on the Soviets.  However, Khan did not dedicate enough, if anything, towards social welfare reform.  Frankopan writes:

Laying the basis for social reform was risky and time-consuming compared to the immediate gains to be made from relying on strongmen and the elites that surrounded them.  But the result was the stifling of democracy and the laying down of deep-rooted problems that would fester over time (p. 417).

Asia’s dictators were more than jovial to play both sides.  It was expected for Third World dictators to ask Moscow and Washington to match or outdo the payments of the other superpower.  Frankopan summarizes American foreign policy in the region as solving the issues of today without much consideration for tomorrow, which made future issues more complicated (p. 469).  It is no wonder why there are many dysfunctional societies and governments in Asia today. 

 

Even if we can draw lessons from history, those lessons are not necessarily appropriate for current circumstances.  The West can neither reverse previous damages nor saunter down a previous path; it is just like what Heraclitus said: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”  Different times and contexts call for novel thinking, planning, and doing.

 

Who should read this book?

For those looking to learn something new about the Middle East and Central Asia’s people, culture, and politics, look no further than the “The Silk Roads” as your starting path.  Frankopan neither romanticizes nor glorifies the region’s past, always presenting the facts clearly and objectively in an entertaining and informative way.  More importantly, “The Silk Roads” is not obloquy against Western influence in the region, either.  Anyone interested in history or Middle Eastern studies should read this book if you have not already.  But I would also recommend anyone interested in foreign affairs and diplomacy to read the pages meticulously and ask why the Middle East and Central Asia are the way they are today.  The book helps anchor our understanding of this vast and complicated area.  You will not be disappointed.

Previous
Previous

Shall we pray for destruction?

Next
Next

Some ideas are too good not to share