Essay 005
Prehistoric Technologies of Ancient China
Various Essays on the Examination of Prehistoric Technologies through the Lens of Archaeology of Technology & Chinese Archaeology
March 11, 2024
The Early Technologies & the Emergence of Modern Humans in East Asia
According to the most widely supported model on the origin and spread of early hominins (known as the “Out of Africa” model), the hominin Homo erectus appeared around East Africa and migrated up to Europe and Asia around 1.9mya (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 38). Furthermore, in the standard model of the origin and spread of modern humans (sometimes known as the ”Out of Africa 2” model), Homo sapiens, like the preceding Homo erectus, also evolved in Africa and subsequently migrated out to Europe and Asia, replacing local populations. While this view is widely supported, the recent discoveries of Denisovan skeletal remains and the presence of Neanderthal genes (1-4%) in modern Asian populations have revealed flaws with this model (Qu et al. 2013, 2, 56; Warren 2019). As a result, some researchers have backed two alternative theories of human origins. The first, known as the multiregional hypothesis or sometimes referred to as the “candelabra model,” suggests that Homo sapiens evolved in local regions, independent from other populations in Europe and Africa (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 38-39; Shen and Chen 2008, 588). The second alternative model, known as the “Out of Africa with Admixture” or the “continuity-with-hybridization model,” suggests that locally situated Homo erectus interbred with incoming Homo sapien populations from Africa and Western Eurasia (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 40; Qiu 2016, 219; Shen and Chen 2008, 591).
While data collected from human remains provide a framework to understand the lineage of prehistoric hominin species, the analysis of technology from excavated East Asian artifacts also help answer the question of human origin and how Paleolithic cultures in East Asia progressed across time and space. Based on archaeological findings from sites in Africa, Europe, and the Levant, it is widely believed that the presence of newer lithic technologies in the late Upper Pleistocene (35-10k BP) is coincided with the emergence of modern humans (Qu et al. 2013, 2-4). Such technological advancements include blade technique, microblade technique, bifacial technique (Acheulian handaxes), the use of bone tools, and non-lithic objects such as decorative beads, marine shells, and rudimentary forms of pottery (Qu et al. 2013, 4-5, 39-54). Regardless of the introduction of newer technology from migrating populations, local technological traditions continued or in some cases coexisted. As an example, the cobble/pebble-core tool industries continued in southern China and the core-and-flake traditions coexisted and microblade technology (e.g. Shandong microblade technology) in Northern China (Shen and Chen 2008, 596).
Furthermore, the cultural variations of technological cultures along with discoveries of bifaces or crude Acheulian-like artifacts in northern China have also revealed flaws in the standard model of human origin. Additionally, these discoveries have also helped refute claims over the existence of the “Movius line” and the claim that the Acheulian complex never reached China. Interestingly these findings have raised additional questions of whether these technological developments were the result of local innovations or attributable to interactions with incoming populations (Qu et al. 2013, 2).
Within the local context of East Asia, the archaeological findings of the late Middle to early Upper Pleistocene (120-35k BP) also shows the regional differences in technological cultures. One of the primary examples of this is the production of flake-tools (produced through direct or bipolar percussion techniques) in northern China contrasted to the production of pebble-core tools (produced with either freehand percussion or anvil-chipping methods) in southern China (Shen and Chen 2008, 583-584). Further, while Northern Chinese cultures were more diversified, the southern Chinese cultures remained more homogenous—possibly due to local environmental factors negating the need for newer technologies such as blades, microliths, and handaxes (instead relying on other wooden or bamboo tools) or due to the lack of raw materials to build such tools (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 43). Some researchers believe that such regional variations could also be likely based on strategic adaptations to the local environments (Shen and Chen 2008, 595).
In sum, while the presence of new cultural markers in the East Asian archaeological record (e.g. advanced stone/bone tools and other non-lithic objects) is often considered to be a sign of incoming Homo sapien populations, the observance of cultural variability and continuity complicates our current understanding. Regardless of whether such variations were the result of local innovations, regional interactions, or the outcome of the ecological milieu, the material evidence found in the archaeological record highlights the immense complexity and the importance of Chinese prehistoric data on the human origins story.
References
Shelach-Lavi, Gideon. 2015. The Archaeology of Early China : From Prehistory to the Han Dynasty. New York, NY: Cambridge University Press.
Shen, Chen and Chen, Chun (2008). China, Paleolithic Cultures. In, Encyclopedia of Archaeology, edited by Deborah M. Pearsall. New York: Academic Press. Pp. 570-597.
Qiu, Jane (2016). THE FORGOTTEN CONTINENT: Fossil finds in China are challenging ideas about the evolution of modern humans and our closest relatives. Nature 535: 218-220.
Qu, Tongli, Ofer Bar-Yosef, Youping Wang and Xiaohong Wu (2013). The Chinese Upper Paleolithic: Geography, Chronology, and Techno-typology. Journal of Archaeological Research 21: 1-73.
Warren, Matthew (2019). Biggest Denisovan fossil yet spills ancient human’s secrets. Nature 569: 16-17.
Reflections on Museum Exhibit Designs
When writing labels for museum exhibits on archaeological materials—or any objects typically exhibited in museums for that matter—the most important question to ask is: why is this label being written in the first place? This may seem like an overly simplistic or obvious question, but attempting to answer it honestly actually results in a cascade of other questions that requires deeper-levels of self-reflection and consideration. Questions such as: Who is the intended audience? Can we even know who our audience is or will be? What is the message we are trying to communicate? What are the main facts and ideas we want our guests to think about and discuss even after leaving our museum? What ultimately makes for a successful exhibit design is largely dependent on the museum—or other types of educational institutions—having a deep understanding their purpose and the nature of their relationship with their guests. Of course while every museum and curator will need to answer such questions for themselves, there are certain elements of persuasion and characteristics of entertainment that are broadly applicable to such pedagogical contexts. Writing labels and designing museum exhibits are share many similar characteristics to other forms of writing or modes of communication. In all such cases, the ultimate goal is to deliver a message—a fact or idea—in a persuasive manner to the audience. To explore what factors make for a successful museum exhibit, I will examine and analyze exhibits at two different museums—the Peabody Museum of Archaeology & Ethnology and the Sackler Museum Asian Art Galleries in the Harvard Art Museums—against the ten points outlined in Gallery text at the V&A: A Ten Point Guide (V&A Guide), a publicly available guide on writing museum labels from the V&A Museum (Victoria and Albert Museum, 2013).
The first and arguably most important point in the V&A Guide is understanding the intended audience. Furthermore, the intended audience must also be inclusive, meaning that even while twenty percent of your audience may hold PhDs, the language must reflect the fact that ten percent of the guests may not have the same knowledge. In the case of the Peabody Museum exhibits, the museum clearly understands that their audience is the Harvard community, including current students, alumni, or other local community members with a passing interest in archaeology or anthropology. This is evidenced by consistent referencing of former students and faculty members in the language of every exhibit. As examples, a major portion of the Resetting the Table exhibit features dinner patterns for the Harvard class of 1913, and a major portion of the All the World is Here exhibit is about the founding of the Harvard Peabody Museum and one of its first directors, Frederic Ward Putnam. In contrast, the Harvard Art Museums understands that their audience may not be associated with the Harvard community, and as a result, takes a much more neutral and generic approach to language in their labels. Furthermore, the themes in the exhibits also do not point out the museum’s association with the Harvard community and instead are also kept broad and generic (e.g. Arts of Ancient China, from the Neolithic to Bronze Age).
Once the intended audience is identified, the second most important point is to understand the message that the exhibit is attempting to communicate (point #3 in the V&A Guide). In fact, it can be argued that all other points in the V&A Guide are in the service of this goal. To put it simply, the success of the message depends on the overall presentation being compelling and persuasive—factors that include its organization, hierarchy, concision, clarity, conversational tone, reference to the actual object being displayed, etc. Further, because the information being conveyed in a museum context are arranged based on the constraints of the museum’s physical space, the audience may not always start the exhibit at the beginning or flow through in a linear path. This is why the hierarchy of the panels (i.e. introduction, section, object) must be visually intuitive and obvious, so that the guests can orient themselves at any point in the exhibit. Furthermore, as noted in points #2, 3, and 9 of the V&A Guide, because the rest of the museum is also competing for the attention of the audience, the language must be concise, conversational, and engaging. Observing the labeling in the Peabody Museum and the Harvard Art Museums exhibits, they both tended to be verbose—especially when compared to the examples in the V&A Guide. Regardless, the exhibits in the Peabody Museum were much more graphically compelling and interesting when compared with the exhibits in the Harvard Art Museums. In fact, the hierarchy and organization of the Arts of Ancient China exhibit at the Harvard Art Museums did not have a clear introductory panel (or one I could easily find), and their graphic design and use of typography were nearly identical across their section and object labels. In contrast, the organization and hierarchy in the exhibits at the Peabody Museum were much more obvious, intuitive, and compelling—the introductory panels were wall-sized and used larger fonts and graphical elements while the section and object labels were sequentially smaller in size.
In sum, the factors that makes for a successful museum exhibit design depends largely on knowing the audience, understanding the message, and being inclusive in that delivery. In order to successfully accomplish those goals, the organization and hierarchy of the exhibit design must be intuitive and simple, and the tone of the language needs to be conversational. This is partly because in the physicality of the museum experience many things vie for the attention of the guests, and accordingly, the language must hold the attention of the audience and be persuasive.
References
Victoria and Albert Museum. 2013. “Gallery Text at the V&A a Ten Point Guide.” https://www.vam.ac.uk/__data/assets/pdf_file/0009/238077/Gallery-Text-at-the-V-and-A-Ten-Point-Guide-Aug-2013.pdf.
The Domestication of Rice in China
While many scholars would agree that the domestication of rice marks an important milestone for cultures in East Asia, recent discourses in the literature suggests that there is no broad consensus on both how the domestication of rice in China is defined and what the proposed date is for its origin. According to Shelach-Lavi (2016), morphological and material evidence found in the sites of northern, central, and southern China points to the fact that agriculture was widespread by the early Neolithic period (seventh and early sixth millennia BCE). More importantly, the evidence recovered from plant remains found in the storage pits and ceramic artifacts of early Neolithic sites such as Jiahu confirm the practice of rice cultivation (along with millet and soybean cultivation and domestication) in northern China (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 92). Similarly, thousands of recovered remains of rice husks and grains from sites such as Bashidang also confirm the exploitation of rice as a staple food in central and south China (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 116). Regardless, while many scholars can agree that domestication is defined by a biological change in the plant (as opposed to cultivation being defined by human activity) and that the process was gradual and slow, there is debate over the details of those processes and how the date of its origin is recognized. Some scholars view the beginnings of cultivation as a mark of domestication while others seek evidence that signals the completion of domestication as its date of origin.
Fuller et al takes a more conservative approach to recognizing the domestication of rice in China. In a 2007 paper, they describe an evolutionary model (domestication syndrome) that outlines three core morphological traits of domestication that is recoverable through archaeology. These traits include: a reduction in natural dispersal aids (such as awns and hairs), increase in grain size or weight, and a selection against wild-type dispersals (i.e. the emergence of a non-shattering spikelet base) (Fuller, Harvey, and Qin 2007, 318). Based on these criteria and on evidence recovered from sites in the Lower Yangtze area, they argue that the large proportion of immature spikelets and the smaller thinner grain sizes are indicators of a lengthier phase of pre-domestication cultivation that began around 5000 BCE which then resulted in the emergence of rice domestication around 4000 BCE (Fuller, Harvey, and Qin 2007). In other words, according to Fuller et al, the transitional phase of cultivating a mixture of wild and domesticated rice should not be considered as the date of origin for domestication. Moreover, they also argue that the presence of rice in sites such as Hemudu has been overemphasized and that other foods such as nuts (e.g. acorn) should be considered as a more significant portion of the subsistence package (Fuller, Harvey, and Qin 2007, 326-327).
Conversely, in response to the arguments made by Fuller et al, Liu et al argues that grain sizes—and in particular those of charred remains—are not a reliable indicator of rice domestication, and rather, argues that the spread of rice to the lower Yellow River basin and the middle Yellow River valley around 7000 BCE could not have been possible without intense human intervention and therefore should be seen as a more reliable indicator of domestication. Furthermore, microfossil and phytolith evidence at Shangshan (9000-7000 BCE) has revealed the remains of chaffs, stalks, and leaves, suggesting that knives or sickles may have been used in the collection of rice (via uprooting or cutting) (Liu et al 2007). According to Liu et al, the material assemblages in the archaeological record should be seen as another indicator for the origin of rice domestication.
In short, while the definition of cultivation (human action) versus domestication (biological change in the plant) is generally agreed upon, the debate over the reliance of morphological characteristics as an indicator of domestication along with the relatively long transitional phase of pre-domestication cultivation has created disagreements over how the domestication of rice in China is recognized and how its date of origin is defined. Most scholars agree that more archaeological data is required to pinpoint a more precise date of origin.
References
Fuller, Dorian Q. 2011. “Pathways to Asian Civilizations: Tracing the Origins and Spread of Rice and Rice Cultures.”Rice (New York, N.Y.) 4 (3): 78–92. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12284-011-9078-7.
Fuller, Dorian Q, Emma Harvey, and Ling Qin. 2007. “Presumed Domestication? Evidence for Wild Rice Cultivation and Domestication in the Fifth Millennium BC of the Lower Yangtze Region.” Antiquity 81 (312): 316–31. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0003598X0009520X.
Liu, Li, Gyoung-Ah Lee, Leping Jiang, and Juzhong Zhang. 2007. “Evidence for the Early Beginning (c. 9000 Cal. BP) of Rice Domestication in China: a Response.” Holocene (Sevenoaks) 17 (8): 1059–68. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959683607085121.
Shelach-Lavi, Gideon, and Cambridge University Press. 2016. The Archaeology of Early China : From Prehistory to the Han Dynasty. New York: Cambridge University Press.
A Brief Overview of Hemudu Culture
The Neolithic Age in eastern China is represented by many archaeological cultures that are characterized by significant advancements in agriculture, sedentism, and complex social organizations. This paper serves as a brief overview of the Hemudu—a Middle Neolithic culture (7000-5000 BP) that occupied the lower Yangzi River on the eastern coast of China, or modern day Zhejiang province. In general, the Hemudu culture are characterized by a mature rice agriculture, broad-spectrum subsistence strategy, and advanced settlement and construction technologies. Chronologically, the Hemudu people existed contemporaneously with the Majiabang and were succeeded by the Lingjiatan-Songze (Childs-Johnson 2020, 53).
The Hemudu subsistence strategy is often associated with some of the earliest evidence of a mature rice agriculture. Along with the discovery of a large quantity of accumulated rice at Yuyao site, two layers of ancient rice paddy fields were also unearthed at the Yuyao Tianluoshan site (Childs-Johnson 2020, 55; Zheng et al. 2009; Yunfei et al. 2009). However, regardless of the presence of rice cultivation, some scholars have noted that rice was only a part of a broad-spectrum production strategy, and that the Hemudu also gathered other edible plants such as water chestnuts (Trapa), fox nuts (Euryale), and acorns (primarily Quercus subgenus Cyclobanopsis and Lithocarpus) (Nakamura 2010, 110). Furthermore, fishing and hunting also consisted of a significant portion of the Hemudu subsistence economy (Childs-Johnson 2020, 54). It is also worth noting that bone meal may have been consumed (Ge et al. 2021).
One of the primary tools in the Hemudu tool assemblage was the plow—which many scholars believe it was used for rice farming (Childs-Johnson 2020, 55-56). Around 154 examples of wooden and bone plows were excavated from the earliest layers of Hemudu sites (Childs-Johnson 2020, 56). In recent studies, scholars have hypothesized their preference for producing plows from wild water buffalos scapulae due to traditional conformity rather than a comprehensive cost-benefit assessment (Xie 2018). Conversely, there is evidence to suggest that the Hemudu people were selective in their raw material selection based on their selectivity of bones based on maturity and thickness (Xie and Stiner 2017). Moreover, ceramics were also excavated in Hemudu sites that feature uniform wall thicknesses, elaborate shapes, incised and appliqué decorations, as well as colored and black burnished decorations (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 113).
Along with the advancements in agricultural and ceramic technologies, the Hemudu constructed permanent domestic structures and villages that coincided with a more sedentary lifestyle (Childs-Johnson 2020, 55). Many structures within the Hemudu cultural sites featured advanced wooden construction techniques. For example, buildings featured column-based architecture and domestic homes for family units were built on poles (galan) (Childs-Johnson 2020, 58). Additionally, wooden bridges and wooden fences were also discovered (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 106). Other complex construction techniques such as stump tenon, beam head tenon, dovetail and flat body column eyes, corner column insert eyes, straight railing with insert eyes, cutting boards, as well as cutting and digging tenons were unearthed at other Hemudu sites such as Tianluoshan (Childs-Johnson 2020, 57-58; Shelach-Lavi 2016, 106-08).
Aside from a significant expansion of community size, it has been argued that ecological fluctuations may have played a major role in the advancement of settlement and construction technologies. Specifically, a marsh wetland environment in addition to fluctuating sea levels led to column and pile-mounted structures (Childs-Johnson 2020, 58). Regardless of such resistance to environmental pressures, sedimentological data suggests that the Hemudu cultural progression was interrupted by two ecological transgressions that occurred during 6300-5600 BP and 5000-4500BP (He et al. 2018; Huang et al. 2020; Liu et al. 2018). Furthermore, the first transgression also resulted in the diffusion of Hemudu culture northward from the Yaojiang Valley to the Zhoushan Islands and southward to the Ningbo Plain (He et al. 2019).
In summary, the Hemudu culture are recognized by a mature rice agriculture, broad-spectrum subsistence strategy (e.g. fishing, hunting, gathering of nuts), use of wooden and bone plows, and advanced wooden construction techniques (e.g. pole houses, bridges). Such developments were observed in the context of major ecological changes (i.e. sea level fluctuations) that resulted in the interruption and subsequent diffusion of Hemudu culture to surrounding regions.
References
Childs-Johnson, Elizabeth. 2020. The Oxford Handbook on Early China. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.
Ge, Wei, Li Liu, Weijin Huang, Shuqin Tao, Xueliang Hou, Xijie Yin, and Yuanfei Wu. 2021. “Neolithic Bone Meal with Acorn: Analyses on Crusts in Pottery Bowls from 7000 BP Hemudu, China.” International Journal of Osteoarchaeology. https://doi.org/10.1002/oa.3026.
He, Ke‐Yang, Hou‐Yuan Lu, Yong‐Ning Li, Feng‐Ya Ding, Jianping Zhang, and Can Wang. 2020. “Cultural Response to Middle Holocene Sea‐level Fluctuations in Eastern China: a Multi‐proxy Approach.” Boreas 49 (1): 71–88. https://doi.org/10.1111/bor.12421.
He, Keyang, Houyuan Lu, Yunfei Zheng, Jianping Zhang, Deke Xu, Xiujia Huan, Jiehua Wang, and Shao Lei. 2018. “Middle-Holocene Sea-Level Fluctuations Interrupted the Developing Hemudu Culture in the Lower Yangtze River, China.” Quaternary Science Reviews 188: 90–103. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quascirev.2018.03.034.
Huang, Jing, Shao Lei, Liang Tang, Aihua Wang, and Zhanghua Wang. 2020. “Mid-Holocene Environmental Change and Human Response at the Neolithic Wuguishan Site in the Ningbo Coastal Lowland of East China.” Holocene (Sevenoaks) 30 (11): 1591–1605. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959683620941070.
Liu, Yan, Qianli Sun, Daidu Fan, Bin Dai, Fuwei Ma, Lichen Xu, Jing Chen, and Zhongyuan Chen. 2018. “Early to Middle Holocene Sea Level Fluctuation, Coastal Progradation and the Neolithic Occupation in the Yaojiang Valley of Southern Hangzhou Bay, Eastern China.” Quaternary Science Reviews 189: 91–104. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quascirev.2018.04.010.
Nakamura, Shin-ichi. 2010. “The Origin of Rice Cultivation in the Lower Yangtze Region, China.” Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences 2 (2): 107–13. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12520-010-0033-0.
Shelach-Lavi, Gideon, and Cambridge University Press. 2016. The Archaeology of Early China : From Prehistory to the Han Dynasty. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Xie, Liye. 2018. “Scapulae for Shovels: Does Raw Material Choice Reflect Technological Ease and Low Cost in Production?” Journal of Archaeological Science 97: 77–89. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jas.2018.06.009.
Xie, Liye, and M.C Stiner. 2018. “Raw Material Preferences for Scapular Tools: Evaluating Water Buffalo Age Bias in the Early Hemudu Culture, China.” International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 28 (6): 645–55. https://doi.org/10.1002/oa.2677.
Xie, Liye, Xuejiao Lu, Guoping Sun, and Weijin Huang. 2017. “Functionality and Morphology: Identifying Si Agricultural Tools from Among Hemudu Scapular Implements in Eastern China.” Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 24 (2): 377–423. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10816-015-9271-x.
Yunfei, Zheng, Sun guoping, Qin ling, Li chunhai, Wu xiaohong, and Chen xugao. 2009. “Rice Fields and Modes of Rice Cultivation Between 5000 and 2500 BC in East China.” Journal of Archaeological Science 36 (12): 2609–16. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jas.2009.09.026.
Zheng, Yan, Hongbo Zheng, Qianying Guo, Qing Yang, Zhujun Hu, Xinya Yao, Xinying Zhou, Keliang Zhao, Xiaoqiang Li, and Chenglong Deng. 2021. “Dating the Hemudu Neolithic Rice Cultivation Site, East China, by Paleomagnetic Chronostratigraphy.” Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology 569: 110297. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.palaeo.2021.110297.
Technology & the Prehistoric Built Environment of Ancient China
Along with the advancements in agricultural technologies, prehistoric Chinese cultures also witnessed an unprecedented growth in population and the emergence of cities and urbanism at around the late Neolithic and the early Bronze Age. Nonetheless, while many scholars have attempted to describe urbanism and the implications of its categorization in these contexts, a survey of some of the recent literature reveals that there are wide-ranging perspectives on such topics. As an example, in a 2008 paper, Lothar von Falkenhausen had criticized previous attempts to simply equate cities with walled settlements, and rather, he proposed a three-stage framework (incipient, formative, and advanced) that exhibited distinct set of characteristics that developed over time. While Falkenhausen’s analysis provides a basis for recognizing and categorizing urbanism in prehistoric Chinese contexts, a prioritization of the physical characteristics within the attempts to define what is a city is (i.e. walled enclosures, layout of residences and workshops, ceremonial ritual centers, cemeteries) may be a factor in limiting its ability to draw more meaningful insights about the nature of social complexity and the human-environment relationship (Marcus and Sabloff 2008).
On the other hand, the concept of urbanism as technology as outlined by Rowan Flad (2018), provides a more anthropocentric analytical framework to understand the increasing complexities of social and socioecological interactions. This is primarily because technology—as defined by Flad as a set of practices that involve accomplishing certain tasks or goals using the available material resources within the context of social and political relationship and cultural beliefs—foregrounds the agency of the individual in the emerging landscape of the urban environment. In other words, rather than prioritizing the physical characteristics seen in the archaeological record that serve as markers of cities, as in the case with Falkenhausen’s analyses—a focus on technology and technological practices provides a platform to observe how individuals, communities, institutions, and economies interact and function within the context of their environment. Moreover, the functional themes of scale, differentiation, centrality, and performance that Flad outlined further reinforces the social aspects in the exploration of prehistoric urban contexts. To that end, the prehistoric Chinese urban environment can be analyzed as both a combination of component technologies (i.e. architecture, urban planning, redistribution, temples, markers, monuments, violent, sacrifice, ritual, etc.) (Flad 2018, 125) as well as within the “constant process of becoming” (i.e. the complex processes related to the emerging social dynamics within the prehistoric Chinese context).
Similarly, the 2017 study from Liu et al. focuses on the artificial management of water in the Liangzhu culture (5300-4300 BP) as an example of urban technological practice that enabled an unprecedented scale of rice cultivation and population growth. Viewed through the lens of technology, the water management practices outlined by Liu et al. represents the growing complexity surrounding labor mobilization at scale and the resulting consolidation of political power. Moreover, by closely examining the details within the technical complexity of the Liangzhu hydraulic landscape, Liu et al. infers that authority and control over labor resources are likely to have been centralized and organized hierarchically through authority figures, city planners, and the like. Along the same lines, a 2017 study by Storozum et al. also analyzed the development of water management technologies—in this case irrigation systems—at the Anshan site in Henan province, as an example of early efforts of elite people to restructure the natural environment to facilitate agricultural production and bring a sense of order to an otherwise chaotic and unpredictable natural landscape. Storozum et al. further argues that the increased modifications to the landscape were a part of a much more complex relationship between people and their natural environments, and as a result, such activities may have caused or at the very least accelerated geomorphic instabilities (e.g. erosion and flooding).
In sum, the technological framework provides a lens to view the prehistoric built environment as one technological component in a wider, complex field of other processes. As Flad argues in his 2018 paper, “technologies and the technological practices they entail provide the glues that hold together society and enable social relationship, institutions and economies to function.” Viewing urbanism as technology enables us to understand how the prehistoric people’s relationship and interactions with their natural environment had been complexly intertwined with the need to sustain a growing population and the developments of social stratification, metallurgical and precious goods industries, ritual and elite burial practices, and centralized polities.
References
Bin Liu, Ningyuan Wang, Minghui Chen, Xiaohong Wu, 吴小红, Duowen Mo, Jianguo Liu, Shijin Xu, and Yijie Zhuang. 2017. “Earliest Hydraulic Enterprise in China, 5,100 Years Ago.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences - PNAS 114 (52): 13637–42. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1710516114.
Dematte, Paola. 1999. “Longshan-Era Urbanism: The Role of Cities in Predynastic China.” Asian Perspectives (Honolulu) 38 (2): 119–53.
Flad, Rowan. 2018. “Urbanism as Technology in Early China.” Archaeological Research in Asia 14: 121–34. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ara.2016.09.001.
Marcus, Joyce, and Jeremy A. Sabloff. 2008. The Ancient City : New Perspectives on Urbanism in the Old and New World. 1st ed. Santa Fe, N.M.: School for Advanced Research Press.
Storozum, Michael, Haiwang Liu, Zhen Qin, Kongde Ming, Kui Fu, Hui Wang, and Tristram Kidder. 2017. “Early Evidence of Irrigation Technology in the North China Plain: Geoarchaeological Investigations at the Anshang Site, Neihuang County, Henan Province, China.” Geoarchaeology 33 (2): 143–61. https://doi.org/10.1002/gea.21634.
Zhuang, Yijie, and Tristram R Kidder. 2014. “Archaeology of the Anthropocene in the Yellow River Region, China, 8000–2000 Cal. BP.” The Holocene 24 (11): 1602–23. https://doi.org/10.1177/0959683614544058.
The Xia and the Question of Historical Dynastic Traditions
The Xia are commonly viewed as the first dynasty in pre-imperial China. Yet many scholars have debated the details of the Xia dynasty—their historical and geographic placement and even their mere existence. The central issues surrounding such debates involve the use of Chinese canonical texts as a historical framework for conducting archeological analysis and incongruities in the material record—including the absence of writing at Xia sites (e.g. Erlitou) and the lack of references to the Xia in oracle bone inscriptions (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 161). Other issues are related to an accurate chronology of the pre-imperial Chinese dynasties (Xia-Shang-Zhou), and a semantic argument for what should constitute a dynasty or state.
According to the Shiji—a collection of textual information accumulated by the historian Sima Qian—the Xia dynasty was founded by Yu the Great after controlling a catastrophic flood (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 162). According to the texts, the Xia was then ruled by a succession of around thirty kings over the span of more than four hundred years until it was eventually overthrown by the Shang dynasty. This narrative has provided a framework for Chinese archaeologists to conduct fieldwork and reconstruct the history of the Xia people. However, many scholars have criticized such narratives as more mythological than historical, especially since texts like the Shiji were written based on oral tradition over a thousand years after the described events (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 162). More importantly, scholars have argued that the story behind the founding of the Xia served a mythological function for the Shang and Zhou dynasties (Allan 1984). For example, in the texts, while the Xia were identified with mythical themes such as water, water creatures such as dragons and turtles, the West, the color yellow, and death, the Shang were associated with contrasting motifs such as the sun, birds, the East, the sky, and life (Allan 1984, 243-44). As a result, such contrasting dualisms unified the Shang people under a common mythological worldview and served to justify the overthrow of the Xia by the Shang. Similarly, according to a theory of dynastic cycles, the founders of the Zhou dynasty perpetuated the myth of the Xia in order to legitimize the overthrow of the Shang and used such narratives to highlight the variable nature of the Mandate of Heaven (Allan 1984, 253). Alternatively, one scholar inferred the accuracy of the Xia dynastic lineage within the ancient texts by analyzing the accuracy of the Shang dynastic lineage (Liu and Xu 2007, 897). Regardless, scholars remain divided on whether the Xia was a historical dynasty or a legendary dynasty created by the Zhou people to serve their political needs (Liu and Xu 2007, 897-98). Ultimately, while an analysis of the myth cannot answer the question of whether or not the Xia were a historical dynasty, acknowledging its mythological functions in society can provide context for the current reconstruction of history and highlight the challenges in aligning historical data with archaeological evidence.
Turning to the evidence found in the material record, sites in the central Yellow River region has been the focal point of Xia archaeology (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 163). In particular, the discoveries made at the Erlitou site (discovered by Xu Xusheng around the 1950s) have surfaced issues regarding the exact chronology of the Xia and the sociopolitical nature of the Xia state. While the Erlitou was initially associated with the Xia dynasty based on textual references to their geographic placement, the more recent Xia-Shang-Zhou Chronology Project updated the overall chronology of the Xia, the Shang, and the Erlitou site (Xia 2070-1600 BCE, Shang 1600-1046 BCE, and Erlitou site: 1880-1520 BCE) unseating the exclusive association of Erlitou to the Xia (Liu and Xu 2007, 887). Ultimately, it resulted in the common view that Erlitou was a site of the Xia-Shang transition—likely occurring between Phase II and Phase III. Similarly, while the Erlitou site was initially interpreted by Xu Xusheng as the capital Bo (or Po) of King Tang of the Shang, who—according to texts—conquered the Xia and established a capital named Bo (Liu and Xu 2007, 894), an alternate view associated the Zhengzhou as the Shang capital Bo and Erlitou as the Xia capital.
Shifting to the examination of technology within the Xia sites, the evidence in the material record brings about semantic questions regarding what constitutes a state. While the consensus is that the first state-level society emerged in the central Yellow River region around the time of the Erlitou culture (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 184), certain characteristics that typify state-level society such as sumptuary consumption (which indicate a king’s ability to extract resource and labor), state-sponsored monumental construction, and military expansion are somewhat lacking in the materials found at the Erlitou site when compared to contemporaneous sites such as Taosi and Shijiahe (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 186-90). Moreover, the categorization of the “palace city” as a palace reflects the bias based on the aforementioned textual historical framework, and the relative small size of the compound makes it hard to see how it would have been used as a residence for a king or as the administrative center of the state (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 187). Likewise, evidence of food storage and management that characterizes four-tier settlement hierarchies and is often associated with a state-level society is also notably absent from the Erlitou site (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 189). Furthermore, while the evidence of elite-sponsored craft production of bronze objects is seen in the early phases of the Erlitou, a dramatic increase in scale is not observed until the Early Shang (Erligang) period. Regardless, the dramatic increase in intersocietal contact seen during this period—evidenced by the wide spread of bronze and oracle bone divination technologies—are commonly viewed as indicators of the emergence of state polities (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 193).
In sum, there are a multitude of issues surrounding the nature of the Xia in the historical context of prehistoric China. Along with the lack of clarity on the chronology and geographic placement of the Xia, the use of ancient texts as a historical framework for archaeological studies creates biased interpretations that perpetuates inaccurate reconstructions of histories. Such discussions highlight the fact that the question of whether or not the Xia were a historical dynasty is still unclear and requires further investigation.
References
Allan, Sarah. 1984. “The Myth of the Xia Dynasty.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 116 (2): 242–56. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0035869X00163580.
Dematte, P. 2006. “The Chinese Jade Age.” Journal of Social Archaeology 6 (2): 202–26. https://doi.org/10.1177/1469605306064241.
Liu, Li, and Hong Xu. 2007. “Rethinking Erlitou: Legend, History and Chinese Archaeology.” Antiquity 81 (314): 886–901. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0003598X00095983.
Shelach-Lavi, Gideon, and Cambridge University Press. 2016. The Archaeology of Early China : From Prehistory to the Han Dynasty. New York: Cambridge University Press.
Zhang, Chi, A. Mark Pollard, Jessica Rawson, Limin Huan, Ruiliang Liu, and Xiaojia Tang. 2019. “China's Major Late Neolithic Centres and the Rise of Erlitou.” Antiquity 93 (369): 588–603. https://doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2019.63.
Ancestral Worship & Burial Practices in Early China
Ancestor worship—or the practices surrounding the deification of ancestors—has been widely viewed as a dominant form of religious practices in Neolithic China (Li 2000, 129). But, while the concept of ancestral worship may have limited use in explaining the direct characteristics of a particular grave (i.e. direct interpretation of mortuary analysis), it does provide a meaningful analytical framework to understand the complexity of ritual behavior and the dynamics of relationships between the living practitioners of such mortuary practices (Flad 2001, 23). Furthermore, through the cross-cultural analyses of ritual ancestral worship, some scholars have argued that the changes to how ancestor worship is practiced reflects a broader change in social complexity and may be linked to later religious activities during the Three Dynasties period (Li 2000, 136).
Based on a large body of evidence for the practice of ancestor worship found in oracle bone inscriptions, early texts, and the data from the excavation of burial sites, many scholars have not only argued for the existence of ancestor worship during the period of the Three Dynasties, but also for an earlier existence (Li 2000, 130). As a result, the practice of ancestor worship helps explain the reasoning behind the wide variances in grave size, elaboration, and overall burial processes. To put it another way, the concept of ancestral worship provides a foundation to which ritualized mortuary practices can be interpreted. For example, based on the material evidence found within graves at the Dadianzi site in Inner Mongolia, Rowan Flad argues that burial rituals evolved over time from one in which individuals used the burial as a site for negotiation social relationship and power to one in which the burial processes was used by those with institutional power and prestige to reaffirm preexisting social structures (Flad 2000). He argues that while the objects deposited within the burial chamber is associated with the social identity of the deceased individual (i.e. deceased grave value), the objects in the niche and fill adjacent to the chamber can be linked to the social practices of the living (i.e. ceremony grave value) (Flad 2001, 36).
Likewise, a recent study of burial patterns at archaeological sites in the Yellow River valley have not only reveals the existence of ancestral worship, but that the variations of ritual practices reflects an overall change in social complexity, from one that is egalitarian to one that is much more stratified (Li 2000). Moreover, Li argues that there are four types of rituals involving ancestral worship that was practiced during the Neolithic (Li 2000, 155-57). First, ritual burials that were egalitarian by nature and conducted for the community as a whole. Second, less equal ritual burials that involved elaborate treatment for different social sub-groups based on an individual’s economic and political contributions. Third, ritual mortuary practices that demonstrate an ancestral cult surrounding a special individual who may have been religiously or militarily important to a particular kin group. Fourth, ancestor worship that was linked to hierarchical social structures—wherein the ancestors were people who held high social status and political, religious, and economic prestige within certain lineages. In short, Li argues that in the Yellow River valley context, the practice of ancestral veneration developed from the ancestor being collective groups to special individuals, the living practitioners performing rituals at the community level to the lineage or family level, and the beneficiaries of ritual changing from the entire community to specific lineages or families with high social status (Li 2000, 156). Furthermore, Li argues that such developments in ritual mortuary patterns may have influenced the religious and political practices of the Shang dynasty—which were based on kinship relations and centered around ancestral worship rituals and provided the ideological foundation for royal lineages (Li 2000, 157).
In sum, ancestral worship as a concept provides the foundation and framework to better understand the practices surrounding mortuary rituals, including the various physical features of graves (e.g. chamber, niche, and fill) and the wide variances of grave and ritual elaboration (i.e. objects used by the person during their life versus objects made specifically for the funeral site). With that said, it is clear that interpretations of burial rituals must account for the nuanced variances in local cultural contexts and that the characteristics of ancestral worship practice does not always reflect the overall state of social organization. As Flad had noted, while ritual burials can provide a platform for solidifying social bonds, the practice of “ritualized activities” can be the actual production and negotiation of power and power relations (Flad 2001, 45).
References
Flad, Rowan. 2001. “Ritual or Structure? Analysis of Burial Elaboration at Dadianzi, Inner Mongolia.” Journal of East Asian Archaeology 3 (3): 23–51. https://doi.org/10.1163/156852301760238265.
Li, Liu. 2000. “ANCESTOR WORSHIP: AN ARCHAEOLOGICAL INVESTIGATION OF RITUAL ACTIVITIES IN NEOLITHIC NORTH CHINA.” Journal of East Asian Archaeology 2 (1): 129–64. https://doi.org/10.1163/156852300509826.
The Origin and Development of Metallurgical Technology in China
In the past, many scholars believed that the origins of copper and bronze metallurgy followed the traditional diffusion model of technology wherein metallurgical technology was introduced from beyond China and simply adopted by the indigenous communities (Mei et al. 2017, 231). With the discovery of the use of copper and bronze before the Shang dynasty, the standard view was later challenged by the idea that metallurgy developed independently in China (Mei et al. 2017, 231-32). Nevertheless, based on the recent increase of archaeological findings, scholars now believe that the origin and development of metallurgical technology in China was related to a dynamic network of interactions between the communities of north-west China and the Eurasian steppe starting from the 3rd millennium BCE (Mei et al. 2017; Jaang 2015). Furthermore, recent studies suggest that the adoption of metallurgical technology was not simply an adoption of new incoming technology, but rather it was a complex assimilation of new technologies that was shaped by local and regional economic, political, and cultural contexts (Jaang 2015).
In a recent comparative study, Li Jaang (2015) examined the role of the natural and social landscape in the adoption and development of copper and bronze metallurgical technologies. Jaang argues that such technologies were introduced through a vast network of interactions between pastoralists from the Eurasian steppe and indigenous communities. Furthermore, he suggests that the Ejin River Transfer Zone (ERTZ), located northwest of the central plains, was the frontier of ancient China’s participation in the Bronze Age Eurasian network (187). Jaang theorizes that the cultural and natural contexts of the ERTZ may have been a driving factor in the early adoption of new technologies.
To the people of the ERTZ region, trade and exchange were an integral part of their social life, and therefore they were highly receptive to new technologies and innovations. Looking back at the past material evidence, this region had previously thrived from the trade and exchange of painted pottery during the late Majiayao (Jaang 2015, 190). Moreover, no finished metal products were found at ERTZ sites such as Xichengyi, providing further evidence that the metal artifacts were produced mainly for trade and exchange. It is widely seen that the people of this region sustained their economy through the production and exchange of metal objects for cultivated grains (wheat and barley), domesticated animals (sheep, cattle, and horses), and exogenous prestige goods for the local elite (Jaang 2015, 181-83).
Contrary to the idea that metallurgy was introduced by a migrant people from the steppe, the lack of burial and residential evidence in the archaeological record (e.g. shaft-pit tombs and supine poses characteristic of the most popular burial customs in ERTZ, and the continuation of the indigenous tradition of semi-subterranean residential construction) suggests that such technologies were adopted by the indigenous people (Jaang 2015, 195-99). Furthermore, the region’s advantageous position next to the Ejin River made it easy to interact directly with the steppe pastoralists. The region was also located nearby a rich source of copper, which also favored the early adoption of metallurgy.
Looking at other regions beyond the ERTZ, the western portion of the Hexi corridor was also well positioned to interact with the steppe. However, in contrast to the ERTZ, the slow adoption of metal technologies suggests that people of this region were reluctant to accept innovations and social change (Jaang 2015, 199-201). Jaang argues that it was not until a climatic crisis that they were forced to adopt new economic strategies in order to survive. Such new strategies included the use of high-yielding cultivated grains including wheat and barley, the adoption of grazing animals that were suited for a mobile lifestyle such as sheep, goats, and horses, and metallurgical technologies (Jaang 2015, 200-01). Similar to the western Hexi corridor, the region of central Inner Mongolia were also well positioned to interact with the steppe, however, based on the lack of evidence, no exchanged seemed to have taken place (Jaang 2015, 201-202).
While the ERTZ and the Hexi corridor were the main source of grains, animals, and metal artifacts from beyond the region, the cultures of the middle Yellow River valley did not have direct contact with the steppe due to its geographical distance. Moreover, the adoption of metallurgical technologies in this region was also different and culturally shaped. In particular, metal products linked to sites such as Erlitou, were not produced for exchange with the steppe pastoralists, but rather were produced to enhance the political authority of the elites (Jaang 2015, 202-03). The most compelling line of evidence is the fact that the aesthetics of the metal objects were an evolution of existing ceramic traditions and ritual form factors (Mei et al 2017; Maran and Stockhammer 2017). There is evidence to suggest that the desire to reproduce existing ritual ceramic objects in a new, more impressive material may have led to the development of new technologies such as piece-mould casting (Mei et al. 2017).
In sum, based on the most recent evidence found in the archaeological record of ancient China, metallurgical technology likely originated from the Eurasian steppe. However, while Chinese metallurgy was rooted in Eurasian steppe technology, its adoption and development process was shaped by the natural and cultural landscapes of the various regions. To that end, the two metallurgical systems seemed to have co-existed during the Bronze Age in China—the ERTZ system which was economically motivated, and the central plains system which was driven by political desires.
References
Mei, Jianjun, Yongbin Yu, Kunlong Chen, and Lu Wang. 2017. “The Appropriation of Early Bronze Technology in China.” In Appropriating Innovations, 1st ed., 231. Oxbow Books.
Jaang, Li. 2015. “The Landscape of China's Participation in the Bronze Age Eurasian Network.” Journal of World Prehistory 28 (3): 179–213. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10963-015-9088-2.
Maran, Joseph, and Philipp Stockhammer. 2017. Appropriating Innovations. 1st ed. Havertown: Oxbow Books.
The Shang & Contemporaneous Societies
In the past few decades, archaeological attention in China has shifted from a focus on the Shang dynasty in the Central Plains to other contemporaneous societies in regions such as the Sichuan basin, the middle Yangzi basin, and northeast China (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 227). Central to such discourses is the question: what was the nature of the interactions between the societies that showed unequal levels of social complexity and technological advancement?
Based on archaeological evidence, many scholars believe that such interactions were shaped by the differences of technological and sociopolitical complexity between the Shang and other contemporaneous societies. Traditionally, scholars had viewed the relationship between the Shang and other societies through the “world system” model, which was developed by Immanuel Wallerstein to help explain the development of the modern day Capitalism (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 248). According to this economic framework, a more technologically developed center exploits less developed peripheral areas through a system of economic interdependency. When this framework is applied to the context of Bronze Age China, some scholars (Liu and Chen 2003) have viewed the presence of Shang material artifacts in other regions as evidence of a tributary system between the Shang territorial state and other peripheral regions. Similarly, several other scholars have argued that a center and periphery system had developed between the Shang and northern pastoral and agricultural societies because the people living in the peripheral societies were not able to support themselves through pastoral products alone, and needed to supplement their diet with grains obtained from more developed regions (Cribb 1991, 13–14; Khazanov 1983).
With that said, the most recent evidence suggests that by the second half of the second millennium BCE, the relationship between the state-level polities and the less complex pre-state societies was not simply exploitative, but rather, was much more complex. On one hand, the state-level polities clearly benefitted economically by obtaining raw materials such as copper, tin and lead for bronze production, turtle shells and cattle scapula for daily ritual oracle bone divinations, and other prestigious goods and rare materials such as cowrie shells, lacquer, jade, turquoise, and other semiprecious stones (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 253). On the other hand, less complex societies also gained access to resources, information, and other cultural developments. Furthermore, individuals within the less complex societies also were presented with opportunities to gain power and prestige through a system of elite gift exchange with more powerful and complex state-level societies (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 255).
In terms of the engagement with elite technologies, while the artifacts found in sites beyond the Central Plains and in particular the material evidence found in the Sanxingdui site in the Sichuan basin shows similarities to technologies that are characteristic of Shang bronze production (composite-mold technique) and Shang aesthetic motifs (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 243), the Sanxingdui bronze industry seems to have developed a unique local tradition, with a stronger emphasis on statues rather than vessels and exhibiting a desire to combine bronzes with other materials such as gold and other perishable materials (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 243). Furthermore, discoveries of vessels found filled with cowrie shells suggests the development of a ritual system that was distinct from the ritual patterns found in the sites associated with the Shang (Falkenhausen 2003, 213-16). While there is evidence of local cultural continuity and development, the practice of oracle bone divination seems to have spread beyond the Central Plains and was adopted more widely by other contemporaneous societies.
In summary, the geopolitical landscape during the Chinese Bronze Age can be best described as an extensive network of state-level and pre-state societies that were politically and economically linked through the exchange of materials and artifacts, including a vast system of elite gift exchange (Shelach-Lavi 2016, 253). In light of new archaeological evidence, the description of the relationship between the Shang and other contemporaneous societies as center and periphery seems much too simplistic and diminishes the social, political, and cultural developments of regions beyond the Central Plains. When comparing the gulf in archaeological data available between the Shang and other contemporaneous societies, what is clear is that much more research is needed to understand the complex nature of the relationship between the various regions during this period in ancient China.
References
Cribb, R. 1991. Nomads in Archaeology. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Falkenhausen, L. V. 2003. The External Connections of Sanxingdui. Journal of East Asian Archaeology 5: 191–245.
Khazanov, A. M. 1983. Nomads and the Outside World. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Liu, Li & Chen Xingcan. 2003. State Formation in Early China. London, Duckworth.
Shelach-Lavi, Gideon, and Cambridge University Press. 2016. The Archaeology of Early China : From Prehistory to the Han Dynasty. New York: Cambridge University Press.
The Origin of Chinese Writing
While language is clearly a fundamental and important characteristic of human development, the invention and development of writing also marks another particularly significant milestone. This is because the presence of writing is conventionally defined as the beginning of history and it provides a greater source of data about our past. In the context of ancient China, some scholars have debated the processes related to the development of Chinese writing and its approximate date of origin. Unsurprisingly, the origin of Chinese writing is dependent on how exactly “writing” is defined as a concept and as a technology. While some scholars argue that the earliest evidence of the Chinese writing system is based on the oracle bone and bronze inscriptions found in Anyang dated to around 1200 BCE (Boltz 1999), others have argued that incised signs on tortoise shells found in early Neolithic graves at Jiahu may indicate a more complex process and possibly points to an earlier origin (Li et al. 2003).
In a 1999 study, William G. Boltz argues that the earliest evidence of Chinese writing is based on the oracle-bone inscriptions recovered from Anyang—the last Shang capital—dated to around 1200 BCE (106-07). The inscriptions were incised on both the scapulas of oxen and the plastrons of turtles and were used for elite ritual divination. According to Boltz, these characters were not simply a system of signs but rather were representations of speech. Therefore, in his understanding, this marks the origin of writing. Furthermore, the characters found in the inscriptions allowed for evidence of historical events including the identification of numerous Shang kings and as a result marked the beginning of Chinese history. Additionally, it is important to note that ceremonial bronze vessels were also discovered at the Anyang site with short inscriptions casted on the surfaces (Boltz 1999, 107). Furthermore, Boltz argues that certain characters found on the surfaces of ceramic and jade objects may be evidence of brush writing (107-08) and by extension it is plausible to think that texts may have also been written on perishable materials such as bamboo or wooden strips.
Continuing on the topic of origin, Boltz mentions that discovered early Neolithic pottery fragments dating to the fifth millennium BCE bore incised or painted marks and have been interpreted as written characters by some scholars (108). He notes that while some scholars have pointed to this line of evidence as proof of an earlier origin, he quickly dismisses such claims on the basis that the characters lacks connections to characters in the Shang inscriptions and to the modern Chinese script. Along the same lines, in a 2003 study, Li et al. argues that tortoise shells incised with signs excavated from the early Neolithic graves at Jiahu (Henan Province) may be an indication that this particular practice of sign usage possibly had a role in the eventual development of the Chinese writing system. While they do not go as far as to explicitly claim these inscriptions as a marker of the origin of Chinese writing, they do argue that like the Shang, the inscriptions were also used in divination rituals and may be somehow linked to the eventual invention of writing.
In sum, based on the inscriptions found on oracle bones and other bronze objects in Anyang, the broad consensus is that the origin of Chinese writing can be dated to around 1200 BCE. Regardless of this viewpoint, some scholars have argued that the long intellectual process that eventually led to the invention of the writing system was complex and may date as far back as seventh millennium BCE.
References
Boltz, William G. 1999. The Cambridge History of Ancient China :from the Origins of Civilization to 221 B.C. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Edited by Michael Loewe and Edward L. Shaughnessy
Li, Xueqin, Garman Harbottle, Juzhong Zhang, and Changsui Wang. 2003. “The Earliest Writing? Sign Use in the Seventh Millennium BC at Jiahu, Henan Province, China.” Antiquity 77 (295): 31–44. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0003598X00061329.
Prehistoric Technologies of Early China and the Origins of Chinese Civilization
The discoveries of material culture and technologies found in the context of early China certainly does not do much to clarify nor simplify the narratives surrounding the origins of Chinese civilization. In fact, it shows that the origin and development of Chinese civilization was historically complex and diverse. This position reflects a similar argument that Professor Flad makes in his 2021 op-ed, wherein he critiques the tendency for contemporary American society to prioritize our geographical and cultural ties to Europe and Mediterranean civilizations then draws comparisons to how the study of early China had also been obsessed with confirming a narrative of the origin of Chinese civilization that is rooted in a singular source. The examples Professor Flad references in his article are mostly about specialized craft technologies, and through such technological developments he shows how Chinese civilization did not simply emerge from the Central Plains and spread outward from there—rather, the variations of objects found in the material record of particular regions reflect the vast diversity of cultures and societies.
Looking closer at the topic of metallurgical technologies, the similarities and the regional differences perfectly highlight this notion of a complex dynamic between the societies of early China. During the period of the early Shang (i.e. Erligang), the range of bronze vessel shapes and sizes grew dramatically (Allan 2007). Many scholars believe that these ritual vessels—which were initially used as wine vessels during the Erlitou—expanded to be used for food and water, as well as wine. Moreover, the vessels became to be used as symbols of authority and elite status. Furthermore, apart from their shapes and sizes, the decorative motifs such as the taotie and spiral patterns found on the bronzes showed a clear consistency wherever bronzes were discovered—within the Central Plains or beyond. Regardless of what some scholars may describe as a form of “cultural hegemony” (Allan 2007), the discoveries at the site of Sanxingdui in the Sichuan Basin—as Professor Flad also mentions—provides exciting evidence of a more heterogenous development of culture. The discovery of human-sized standing bronze statues, masks, and bronze heads in the Sanxingdui site are wholly unique and reinforce the idea that civilization did not simply originate in a central place, but rather involved a much more complex process of exchange, transmission, and evolution. Ultimately, these examples show that technology, as defined as—an interrelating system of practices that involve material resources, knowledge, social relationships, and cultural beliefs (Brezine 2011)—provides a very useful lens to understand the complexity of society and social change.
Interestingly, the desire for human beings to share a common narrative about their origins says a lot about human nature. In both of the examples that Professor Flad mentions in his article—the case of the Americans and the Chinese—we yearn to know that we originated from the same place. This narrative provides a comforting source for which to construct our identity with. What the study of technology in the context of early China has shown us is that the invention and use of technology is the thing that unites us. The invention and adoption of bronze metallurgy is not confined to east Asian societies after all. Moreover, how we use technology to construct our material world reflects the awesome diversity that constitute our various traditions, values, and creativity. As Professor Flad mentions, working harder to recognize and celebrate these diverse origins will ultimately make the world a better place for everyone.
References
Allan, Sarah. 2007. “Erlitou and the Formation of Chinese Civilization: Toward a New Paradigm.” The Journal of Asian Studies 66 (2): 461–96. https://doi.org/10.1017/S002191180700054X.
Brezine, Carrie J. 2011. “Dress, Technology and Identity in Colonial Peru.” PhD Thesis. Department of Anthropology, Harvard University.
Flad, Rowan. 2021. “It’s a Golden Age for Chinese Archaeology — and the West Is Ignoring It.” The Washington Post, May 11, 2021. https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/2021/05/11/chinese-archaeology-egyptian-bias-sanxingdui/.