One hundred and thirty years ago, in 1887, a project was approved to develop the city of Fergana. The city itself was founded just eleven years earlier, in 1876, under the initiative of the renowned Russian general, the “Conqueror of Turkestan,” Mikhail Skobelev. However, two thousand years ago, on the very same site, there existed another Fergana—an ancient state that encompassed around seventy cities. Locally, it was known as Parghana, Parkana, or Parkan. There are several interpretations of this name. Some believe it derives from the Persian “Parikhona,” meaning “House of Angels.” Others suggest a connection to the indigenous inhabitants of the Fergana Valley, called the Parikani. Another theory posits that “parghana” refers to a basin enclosed by mountain ridges. The name may also have originated from the Persian word “فرقانه” (Farghaneh), which means “diverse.”
The neighboring Chinese referred to this ancient land as Dawan or Dayuan. Evidence of it has been preserved in the renowned work of the greatest Chinese historian, Sima Qian, titled “Shiji” (“Historical Records”).
In the 2nd century BC, Central Asia was the stage for extraordinarily interesting events. At that time, the mighty Chinese Han Empire was embroiled in conflict with the nomadic tribes of the Xiongnu (also known as Huns or Xiongnu). The Xiongnu were powerful, influential, and known for their exceptional brutality. Some Xiongnu warriors were captured by the Chinese and boasted to the emperor that, after defeating the Yuezhi people, they had fashioned a drinking cup from the skull of their leader.
“The Yuezhi fled, but they forever hated the Xiongnu,” writes Sima Qian about this episode.
The Chinese emperor Wu-di realized that the disgraced and humiliated Yuezhi could become loyal allies in the struggle against the Xiongnu. He sent one of his subjects, the distinguished diplomat, traveler, and spy Zhang Qian, to them. However, Zhang Qian’s mission was intercepted by the very Xiongnu against whom the emperor sought to ally with the Yuezhi.
Zhang Qian was fortunate. The Xiongnu did not kill him; instead, they attempted to “tame” him, showering him with honors, providing him with shelter, and even giving him a wife who bore him a son.
It seemed that Zhang Qian had succumbed to his fate and was content. However, the cunning Xiongnu overlooked a fundamental aspect of Chinese psychology. Every inhabitant of the Middle Kingdom considers their country the center of the world, viewing all others as barbarians. Thus, a true life for a Chinese person could only exist under the hand of the Chinese emperor; everything else was mere existence, no matter how luxurious it might seem.
Zhang Qian lived among the Xiongnu for more than ten years. They had come to regard him as one of their own, and no one kept a close watch on him. Seizing an opportunity, the Chinese diplomat escaped from the Xiongnu with his family and entourage.
“They traveled west for several dozen days and reached Dayuan,” writes Sima Qian.
It turned out that the people there had heard of the wealth of the Chinese empire and had long desired to establish connections with it. The fugitive promised the local ruler gratitude and the protection of the Chinese emperor if he helped Zhang Qian return home.
At this point, it is essential to clarify why the Chinese referred to Fergana as Dayuan. As is often the case with geographical names, explanations can vary. One interpretation suggests that “Dayuan” means “Great Ionians.” The Ionians were known to be one of the principal ancient Greek tribes. Near the ancient Fergana, there existed a state known to the Chinese as Daxia. This was a remnant of ancient Greek civilization, a unique Greco-Bactrian kingdom—one of the heirs of Alexander the Great’s vast empire. Here, alongside local Iranian-speaking tribes, Greek colonists and Ionians lived. It is proposed that the term “Ionian” combined with the epithet “great” gave rise to the name Dayuan.
The Greco-Bactrian kingdom of Daxia was a remarkable phenomenon. It is enough to say that it gave birth to unique cultural phenomena such as Greco-Buddhism and the art of Gandhara. The close relationship between Daxia and Dayuan, in the eyes of ancient Chinese scholars, suggested that they shared many cultural and economic ties.
Zhang Qian vividly describes the land of Dayuan in his report to the emperor: “Dayuan is located southwest of the Xiongnu and directly west of the Han; it is at least ten thousand li away from the Han. The locals cultivate fields, grow rice and wheat, and produce wine from grapes. They have many superb horses, which sweat blood and are said to descend from the Heavenly Lord’s steed. Their cities are fortified with walls and surrounded by suburbs… They control over seventy large and small cities, with a population exceeding several hundred thousand. Their weaponry consists of bows and spears; they shoot while riding.”
It is noteworthy that these remarkable horses, which “sweat blood,” would soon become a point of contention in the relations between China and Dayuan. The Chinese attributed their crushing defeats at the hands of the Xiongnu to their swift and resilient horses. By that time, the Chinese had already established their own cavalry, but their horses could not compare to those of the nomads. The painful defeats inflicted by the Xiongnu compelled the emperor to seek new opportunities. It was clear that anyone wishing to defeat the Xiongnu needed horses that were at least equal, if not superior, to those of the nomads.
Initially, the Chinese began purchasing horses from Daxia. These were indeed decent horses, considerably superior to their own. At first, the Chinese referred to them as “heavenly horses.” However, it soon became apparent that the best horses were bred in the capital of Dayuan, the city of Ershi (the ruins of which are believed to be located near modern-day Andijan). Consequently, the title of “heavenly horses” was bestowed upon the Fergana horses, while the horses from Daxia simply became known as “western horses.”
One might wonder why the Chinese believed these heavenly horses “sweated blood.” There are at least two explanations. The first suggests that this phenomenon was caused by parasitic nematodes residing in the subcutaneous tissue of the horses. The second, far more poetic explanation, states that the skin of these horses was so thin that the blood vessels beneath were visible.
Who were these heavenly horses? Most researchers believe they referred to the Akhal-Teke breed—an ancient, noble breed with truly extraordinary qualities.
Thanks to Zhang Qian, China established good relations not only with Dayuan and Daxia but also with their other neighbors. These lands held much that was intriguing and unexpected for the Chinese. Sima Qian recounts the geography of the time in his “Historical Records”:
“West of [Anxi] lies Tiaozhi; to the north are Yancai and Lixuan. Tiaozhi is several thousand li west of Anxi and borders on the Xihai. It is hot and humid there. The locals cultivate fields and plant rice. There are large birds whose eggs are the size of jars… The land is famous for its magicians. The elders of Anxi say that, according to rumors, there is a river called Zhoshui in Tiaozhi, and the Queen of the West, Xiwangmu, resides there, though they have never seen her.” Anxi likely refers to Parthia, Tiaozhi to the Seleucid state, Yancai to the steppes north of the Caucasus and Caspian Sea, and Lixuan to the Roman Empire.
From the plausible tales of farmers growing rice and large birds (ostriches), the narrative easily transitions to the mythical Queen of the West, Xiwangmu, whose garden grows peaches of immortality. Sima Qian himself, of course, did not believe in Xiwangmu or, at least, did not think she lived so close, but it was his duty to recount the affairs of the past without omitting anything.
Incidentally, Chinese interest in magicians was not coincidental. The then Emperor Wu-di believed that colorful performances could leave an indelible impression on the guests of the empire. By showcasing the treasures of China, contests of strength, and magician performances, the guests of the Middle Kingdom would spread rumors of its greatness throughout the world. Thus, the emperor insisted on continuously improving the skills of Chinese magicians. Whether for this reason or another, modern Chinese illusionists have achieved remarkable heights in their craft and can perform true wonders.
Returning to Dayuan, information about it became increasingly extensive and detailed. Here is what Sima Qian writes on the subject:
“In Dayuan and its surroundings, wine is made from grapes; wealthy individuals have wine reserves that reach ten thousand dan. The wine does not spoil for decades. Their customs are such that they have a strong affinity for wine, and their horses love musa (a type of alfalfa). When the Han envoy brought seeds, the Son of Heaven began planting musa and grapes in the fertile lands. As the number of ‘heavenly steeds’ increased, and foreign envoys arrived in droves, vineyards and musa could be seen flourishing around the imperial camps.”
Although the languages of the countries to the west of Dayuan and Anxi differed somewhat, their customs were largely similar, and the people understood each other well. They all had deep-set eyes, many had beards, and the locals were skilled traders, bargaining fiercely over every little thing. In their customs, respect for women was paramount; whatever a woman said, a man would comply with. In these regions, silk and lacquerware were absent, and the inhabitants lacked the art of minting coins or crafting utensils. Runaway soldiers from Han envoys taught the locals how to forge weapons. With gold or silver from the Han, they crafted vessels instead of using it for coinage.
As more Han envoys arrived, some captivated the Son of Heaven with tales of the superior horses found in Dayuan, specifically in the city of Ershi, where they claimed these steeds were hidden and not offered to the Han envoys.
Enthralled by the accounts of travelers and diplomats, the Chinese emperor dispatched a strongman named Che Lin to Dayuan to procure these magical heavenly horses. Che Lin brought with him a golden statue of a horse, intending to present it as a gift to the Dayuan people. However, they exhibited unexpected stubbornness and refused to sell their prized steeds. In a fit of rage, the Chinese envoy insulted the ruler of Dayuan, smashed the golden horse, and returned home empty-handed. The Dayuan people felt insulted and plotted their revenge. They intercepted Li Che, the envoy, on his way back, killed him, and seized all the gold and valuables he carried.
Upon learning of this incident, the emperor was furious and sent an army to Dayuan to punish the obstinate people. Former Chinese envoys in Dayuan advised the Son of Heaven that the country was small and insignificant, easily crushable with minimal forces—merely three thousand crossbowmen would suffice.
However, the emperor was more prudent than his advisors and did not limit his resources. In 104 BC, he dispatched six thousand cavalry and several tens of thousands of the so-called “youthful delinquents” or, in modern terms, young brigands, against Dayuan.
Yet this glorious army faced unexpected obstacles in Dayuan. The small towns and territories along the way refused to supply the soldiers with food, while the Dayuan people hid behind sturdy walls, from which they could not be dislodged. The Chinese troops suffered from hunger and many perished.
As a result, when the imperial army reached the significant city of Yucheng, only a few thousand soldiers remained. Starving, the Chinese soldiers rushed to storm the city, only to be met with fierce resistance and suffered a devastating defeat. This loss shocked the Chinese commanders. Discussing the situation among themselves, the generals noted that if they could not even take Yucheng, what would happen when they reached the capital, Ershi?
Nevertheless, something had to be done about Dayuan. Firstly, the emperor still desired to acquire the heavenly steeds. Secondly, if Dayuan were not punished, other states would begin to treat the Chinese with disdain. It should be noted that the Chinese were not renowned for their martial prowess. While the Xiongnu would come and take what they wanted by force, the Chinese preferred to act through money, gifts, and bribery. However, in this case, a small victorious war was absolutely necessary.
The second Chinese campaign against Fergana began a little over a year after the first and was much better prepared. An army of sixty thousand men, not counting porters and attendants, marched toward Dayuan. The Chinese remembered that during the first campaign, many soldiers had perished from hunger, so this time, the army was accompanied by one hundred thousand oxen—there was no shortage of provisions. Additionally, one hundred eighty thousand men were sent to the border towns as reserves. In short, the scale of this campaign was significant, and the determination to succeed was palpable among the ranks of the Han army.
Ultimately, it was decided to retreat. This disgraceful campaign lasted two years and brought nothing but shame to the Chinese. Upon learning of the campaign’s outcome, the emperor was enraged and forbade the remnants of the army from returning to the capital. Those who dared to pass through the checkpoint would face execution on the spot and the determination to succeed was palpable among the ranks of the Han army.
As the Han forces advanced, they utilized a strategy of encirclement, cutting off supply routes to the fortified cities of Dayuan. Their goal was to wear down the defenders and force them into submission. The Han generals were well aware of the previous campaign’s failures and were determined to avoid a repeat of history. They constructed siege engines, brought in catapults, and prepared for a prolonged engagement.
When they finally reached the capital city of Ershi, they found it heavily fortified, with high walls and a well-trained garrison. The Dayuan defenders, emboldened by their previous victory, were resolute in their defense. The siege began, and the Han forces launched a series of attacks, attempting to breach the walls. For weeks, they bombarded the city with projectiles and attempted to undermine the defenses, but the Dayuan warriors fought fiercely, repelling each assault.
During this time, the Han army suffered from its own internal challenges. The vast number of troops required extensive resources, and supply lines were stretched thin. The harsh conditions of the surrounding terrain, coupled with the fierce resistance from the Dayuan, tested the resolve of the Han soldiers. However, the Han generals remained steadfast, knowing that their honor and the emperor’s reputation were at stake.
As the siege dragged on, the Han forces began to lose morale. Rumors of a potential uprising among their ranks spread, and the specter of defeat loomed large. Yet, a turning point came when the Han spies gathered crucial intelligence. They learned that the ruler of Dayuan, Ugua, was facing dissent among his own people due to the prolonged conflict and the strain it placed on their resources.
Recognizing this opportunity, the Han generals devised a plan to exploit the unrest. They sent emissaries to the Dayuan people, promising them peace and prosperity if they would abandon their ruler and surrender. The Han’s reputation for wealth and the allure of trade with the prosperous empire to the east began to sway the sentiments of the Dayuan citizens.
In a decisive move, the Han forces launched a final assault on Ershi. With a combination of brute force and psychological warfare, they managed to breach the walls. The Dayuan defenders, demoralized by the prospect of betrayal from their own kin and the relentless siege, began to falter. As the Han troops poured into the city, chaos ensued.
Ruler Ugua, realizing that his position was untenable, attempted to rally his forces but was met with resistance from both the Han and his own people. In the midst of the turmoil, he was captured. The Han army, now victorious, celebrated their hard-fought triumph. The fall of Ershi marked a significant turning point, not only in the campaign against Dayuan but also in the perception of the Han dynasty as a formidable power.
With the capture of Ugua, the Han dynasty imposed their terms on Dayuan. The once proud kingdom was forced to acknowledge Han supremacy and agree to trade agreements that favored the Chinese. The prized “heavenly horses” were now to be bred and traded with the Han, fulfilling the emperor’s long-held desire.
The campaign also had broader implications. The successful conquest of Dayuan and the establishment of trade routes solidified the Han dynasty’s influence in Central Asia. The Silk Road began to flourish, facilitating not only the exchange of goods but also cultural and technological exchanges between the East and West.
The legacy of the campaigns against Dayuan would resonate throughout history, illustrating the complexities of diplomacy, warfare, and trade. The “heavenly horses” became symbols of power and prestige, while the tales of the fierce Dayuan warriors and their remarkable horses would be recounted for generations to come.
Explore Fergana Valley’s traditional crafts
Visit ancient caravanserais along Silk Road
Tour Khiva’s UNESCO-listed Itchan-Kala
Participate in pottery master-class
Explore Bukhara’s historic Ark Fortress