History on Victor42

A Relaxing 6 Day 5 Night Early Summer Trip to Xi an

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 28 May 2026 20:39:00 +0000

Bordering the Hexi Corridor to the west and China’s vast eastern plains, the Guanzhong Plain has witnessed the rise and fall of countless brilliant civilizations. Visiting this ancient land in early summer, you can truly feel the weight of history beneath your feet.

Day 1: Bell and Drum Towers & Muslim Quarter

Xi’an Bell and Drum Towers

The Bell Tower sits at the absolute center of modern Xi’an, connecting directly to the city wall’s four main gates.

The gate names hold deep meaning: Changle (Everlasting Joy) to the east, Yongning (Everlasting Peace) to the south, Anding (Stability) to the west, and Anyuan (Pacifying the Distant) to the north. Together, their first characters form a wish for eternal peace in Chang’an.

Though the original Tang structures are gone, the current towers date back to the Ming Dynasty. A perfectly preserved Tang Dynasty bell is now displayed in the northwest corner.

Historically, these towers weren’t just for keeping time; they enforced the law. Tang Chang’an ran on a strict curfew, and anyone caught roaming the streets between the evening drum and morning bell risked execution. The romanticized “morning bell and evening drum” was actually a highly stressful daily reality for ancient citizens.

The view from the Bell Tower reveals a central axis stretching straight to the horizon. Such an immaculate layout, conceived over 1,400 years ago, required a massive population, strict royal etiquette, and elite urban planning—earning its World Heritage status today. Local drivers joke that navigating this grid is entirely stress-free; if you miss a turn, you just take the next one.

A short walk away is the Drum Tower, equipped with 24 smaller drums marking traditional solar terms and a main drum for timekeeping.

Inside, you’ll find exquisite Ming Dynasty furniture and artifacts.

In May, swifts fill the sky, darting close to visitors’ ears. The complex wooden brackets of the ancient architecture make perfect nesting spots. Cities change, but these ancient ruins remain a sanctuary for the birds year after year.

Muslim Quarter

The Muslim Quarter is massive. “Muslim Street” is just its most commercialized tourist hub.

I actually prefer the deeper alleys around Huajue Lane. We explored them on Day 6. They’re bustling with e-bikes and locals buying groceries, offering a much more authentic vibe.

Walking back to our hotel, the illuminated Drum Tower and circling swifts pushed Xi’an’s ancient ambiance to its absolute peak.

Day 2: Terracotta Army

In Xi’an, you can justify skipping any attraction—except the Terracotta Army. Since the palaces of the Qin and Han dynasties were mostly destroyed or abandoned, the Tang Dynasty dominates the city’s visible history. The Terracotta Army is the ultimate window into China 2,000 years ago.

Pit 1

The guide mentioned that before the discovery, this was just a farming village. When locals unearthed pottery while digging a foundation, it changed their lives—and history—forever.

The panoramic view of Pit 1. The guide joked that out of the 120 RMB ticket, this view alone is worth 100.

Pit 1 contains mostly infantry and features the largest number of restored figures.

The sea of fragments in the back reveals the reality of the excavation; nearly every standing figure was painstakingly pieced together from thousands of shards.

These weren’t simple toys; Emperor Qin intended to bring a true-to-life army into the afterlife. The figures’ outfits strictly dictate military rank. While the bodies were mass-produced, the varied facial features reflect the diverse ethnic makeup of both the artisans and the Qin military.

Pit 3

Pit 3 is smaller but acts as the command center, featuring higher-ranking officers and cavalry.

Many figures here are headless. Archaeologists suspect it wasn’t looted, but simply abandoned midway due to the peasant uprisings that toppled the dynasty.

Notice how all the warriors are empty-handed? Their wooden weapons rotted away, leaving only bronze triggers and arrowheads. Rumors credit advanced anti-rust technology for preserving the bronze, but it was actually the dense, alkaline loess soil that sealed out the oxygen.

We also walked past Pit 4—completely empty. The dynasty collapsed before it could be filled.

Pit 2

Pit 2 houses the iconic Kneeling Archer. Because of its lower profile, it survived roof collapses beautifully and has become a symbol of Xi’an.

The most chilling detail is the hyper-realistic tread on the archer’s shoe. It’s a testament to the Qin state’s terrifying standardization.

Every weapon and tile had its maker’s name carved into it. If a part failed, the artisan was executed. This unparalleled craftsmanship wasn’t born from artistic passion, but from a desperate need to stay alive.

What drove the Emperor to build this? After conquering the known world, his only undefeated enemy was time. He poured his empire’s resources into defeating death, treating the afterlife as more vital than the living world. It’s no wonder his dynasty barely outlived him.

Large sections remain unexcavated, clearly showing the collapsed wooden roof beams that originally sheltered the army.

Another highlight is the imposing General figure.

His square-toed shoes mark his elite rank.

Museum

The museum details the Qin’s brutal but effective military meritocracy, which fueled the state’s unstoppable expansion.

A broken figure perfectly illustrates the hollow torso construction.

A color restoration of the General. The vivid “Chinese Purple” oxidized and vanished within days of excavation, leaving only the terracotta color we see today.

Lishan Garden

A quick taxi ride took us to Lishan Garden, the actual burial mound of Emperor Qin.

The Terracotta Army is merely the eastern garrison for this massive necropolis.

The absolute masterpieces here are the half-scale Bronze Chariots.

These aren’t static models. The doors open, the joints move—if the Emperor were shrunk by half, he could drive them away.

Nearby is a pit of civil officials, complete with tools for scraping bamboo slips, proving he intended to take his entire bureaucracy to the grave.

He even sacrificed real, highly prized horses. Emperor Qin tried to replicate his entire empire underground, complete with rivers of flowing mercury, all in a futile war against time.

Day 3: Tang Paradise

Today was dedicated to a Tang-style photoshoot for my wife and daughter.

Tang makeup evolved drastically over time. Early Tang aesthetics leaned toward slim elegance.

It wasn’t until the High Tang era that the bold, vibrant makeup we stereotypically associate with the dynasty became popular. Tang Paradise itself is a purely modern theme park built on the historical site of the royal gardens.

The park is anchored by the grand Ziyun Tower. Historically, Emperor Xuanzong diverted water from the Qinling Mountains to build this garden, causing a severe drinking water shortage for his citizens.

To visit without mingling with the public, Xuanzong built an elevated, fully enclosed private road called “Jiacheng.” This physical separation mirrored his growing detachment from the common people, signaling the slow decline of the empire.

We rented a boat for a leisurely cruise before returning our costumes early.

Day 4: Pagodas & Everbright City

Xi’an Museum

The floor map explains a lot: the Han Dynasty capital isn’t fully layered under the Tang capital. The Sui and Tang dynasties essentially abandoned the old, cramped ruins and built an immaculate grid city from scratch.

Han inherited Qin’s traditions, producing their own, albeit smaller, terracotta warriors.

The museum heavily features the Silk Road, which the Han initiated and the Tang perfected.

Downstairs, we explored Tang Chang’an’s layout. Its 150-meter-wide main avenue was designed to psychologically overwhelm commoners. Later, emperors retreated to the elevated Daming Palace. This physical isolation bred political instability, eventually allowing eunuchs to seize military power and orchestrate the dynasty’s collapse.

This grand grid layout deeply influenced Japanese capitals like Nara and Kyoto.

Outside stands the Little Wild Goose Pagoda, which miraculously survived a devastating Ming-era earthquake.

Big Wild Goose Pagoda

Next was the Big Wild Goose Pagoda inside the active Da Ci’en Temple.

It leans slightly northwest due to historic groundwater extraction, though the tilt is stabilizing.

Built for the famous monk Xuanzang, it safely stored the precious Buddhist texts he hauled back from India.

Xuanzang took a grueling northern route to India primarily because it offered the diplomatic protection of established Buddhist kingdoms.

Grand Tang Everbright City

We spent the evening strolling through this massive, bustling Tang-themed pedestrian district.

Day 5: City Wall & Guangren Temple

Xi’an City Wall

We ascended via the South Gate (Yongning Gate). It boasts a formidable three-tier defense: gate tower, archery tower, and sluice tower, with a trapping “barbican” courtyard in between.

The wall features protruding bastions (“horse faces”) to eliminate defensive blind spots.

I noticed sloped edges and found ancient Ming drainage systems hidden beneath modern grates—crucial for protecting the rammed earth core from water damage. The wall’s low, thick design marks the military shift from repelling ladders to absorbing cannon fire.

Guangren Temple

Located in the northwest corner, this rare Tibetan Buddhist temple features Ming architecture.

The Qing Dynasty smartly patronized Tibetan Buddhism to cement alliances with Mongolian and Tibetan factions, ensuring border stability.

My daughter was thrilled to spin the prayer wheels, which I explained was a traditional way to make wishes.

Dream of Chang’an

We returned to the South Gate for this immersive evening show. The audience plays the role of foreign envoys arriving in the Tang capital.

After an outdoor welcome, we moved into the barbican for an elegant performance celebrating Tang poetry, martial arts, and cultural fusion.

Day 6: Great Mosque

Deep in the Muslim Quarter lies a mosque dating back to the Tang Dynasty, though its current look is distinctively Ming.

Due to aggressive Ming assimilation policies, the mosque was built disguised as a classic Confucian temple, complete with flying eaves. The only giveaway is its east-facing entrance, directing worshippers west toward Mecca.

The Chinese wooden brackets act identically to Islamic pendentives, shifting weight to open up the prayer hall.

In the innermost courtyard, you finally see Arabic script ingeniously stylized to mimic square Chinese characters. It’s a remarkable, living testament to cultural survival and fusion.

Geographic Background

Enclosed by the Loess Plateau, Qinling Mountains, and the Yellow River, the Guanzhong Plain is a natural fortress. The loess soil, blown in over millennia, was easy to farm and nurtured early civilization.

Guarded by four tight mountain passes (Hangu, Wu, Dasan, and Xiao), it was the ultimate strategic stronghold for early empires.

However, nature pushed back. Centuries of over-farming and deforestation caused massive soil erosion, severely muddying the local rivers and ruining the ecosystem. This environmental collapse played a major role in later dynasties abandoning the area.

Local Life

Weather, Transit, and Food

May is highly comfortable here (25-30°C). We stayed near the Wulukou metro, providing excellent access to both historic and modern districts.

Xi’an is undeniably the carb capital of China.

We dove into Pita Bread in Mutton Soup, Zenggao (date and sticky rice cake), and various noodles. While I struggled slightly with the intensely sour local flavor profile, the Muslim-style stir-fries were fantastic.

Observations

Xi’an exists as two parallel worlds: the deeply historical and the effortlessly modern.

You don’t have to exhaust yourself climbing ancient towers; you can simply sip coffee on the rooftop of the Kaiyuan Mall for a flawless, vibe-heavy view of the Bell Tower.

The city brilliantly blends ruins into daily life. Inspired by the rammed-earth history, even modern buildings adopt a warm, earthy palette, creating a seamless visual transition across millennia.

It’s also the city that best fulfills Western stereotypes of China, drawing immense crowds of international tourists seeking the “Qin and Tang” experience.

Travel Expenses

Our total for the trip came to just over 11,000 RMB:

Here’s the planning document I used (feel free to copy and adjust): https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/EAKawEhfuiOa2QknREFcTrhvnQd?from=from_copylink

Trip planning follows a specific logic. If you’re curious about my process, check out this guide: How to make a travel itinerary step by step.

Nigeria The Chaotic Behemoth

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 26 Dec 2025 11:56:00 +0000

It is hard not to be captivated by Nigeria.

I have been looking at a lot of global economic and demographic charts lately, and Nigeria’s data is just sexy: a massive market of 230 million people—one in every six Africans is Nigerian. A labor dividend with a median age of just 18. Once the largest economy on the continent. In my mind, this was supposed to be the African success story—a nation that moved past warlord chaos to leverage its oil wealth for an industrial takeoff, a rising Wakanda.

With expectations of finding the world’s next growth engine, I started digging into the underlying logic of the country. But as I peeled back the macro data, what lay before me wasn’t an organically growing modern state, but a high-entropy mess that defies standard economic theory.

To truly understand this place, you have to drop your preconceptions of what a “nation-state” is and accept a cold reality: Nigeria is not a natural community; it is a forced business contract.

1. 1914 A Family Merged to Balance the Books

The story doesn’t start on the African savanna, but at a desk in 1914 occupied by British colonial officer Lord Lugard. He faced a sticky accounting problem: the vast Northern Protectorate was bleeding money, while the Southern Protectorate was flush with cash from liquor imports and trade taxes.

To save the British taxpayer from covering the North’s deficit, Lugard made a bold stroke and merged the two. He didn’t create a fusion of civilizations; he simply balanced a ledger.

Nigeria was born as a geopolitical vessel for transfer payments. This determined its destiny for the next century: the Hausa-Fulani North provided the bodies and the votes (maintaining a feudal structure), while the Yoruba and Igbo South provided the money and tech (maintaining a commercial structure). The two sides have been locked in a tense duality ever since—mutually resentful, yet forced into symbiosis.

2. Oil The Accidental Bind

This symbiotic relationship flipped on its head in the 1960s, driven by the substance that would come to dominate the nation’s fate: oil.

Before oil, the Southern Igbos were the staunchest supporters of unity, eager to access the massive Northern market. The North, fearing domination by the more educated Southerners, was the side threatening to secede. But when oil gushed from the swamps of the Southeast, the script flipped instantly. The Igbos tried to break away and form the Republic of Biafra to keep the oil wealth, while the North—terrified of losing their subsidies—became the fiercest defenders of “One Nigeria.”

The resulting civil war ended in Southern defeat, but it cemented the country’s core operating principle: the oil pipeline is the glue preventing dissolution. A steel cable of shared interests anchors together a nation that geography and culture try to tear apart.

3. All Cash No Governance

This logic shaped Nigeria’s unique political economy—a pure patronage system.

Politics isn’t about public service; it’s about the distribution of oil rents. Every month, elites fly to the capital, Abuja, to slice up the oil revenue, which then trickles down to tribal bases. This mechanism shrewdly converts potential class conflict into ethnic rivalry. The poor don’t hate the corrupt big men of their own tribe; they fear that if their “Big Man” falls, the tribe’s lifeline gets cut.

Economically, a massive paradox confuses observers: in a country where oil is 90% of export earnings, why is there almost no sign of oil wealth on the streets?

The data reveals the truth: oil controls the nation’s vitals but makes up only 9% of GDP. Nigeria is a dual economy, like a disembodied beast. The government lives in the clouds on oil dollars, unaccountable to taxpayers, while the people live in the dust, hustling to survive. The state and the people inhabit parallel economic universes.

4. The Wolves of Commerce

In this vacuum of governance, Nigerians were forced to evolve. No electricity? Buy a generator. No police? Hire security. The harsh environment forces every individual to become a micro-government. This pressure cooker forged a ruthless commercial adaptability, especially among the Igbos.

With the petro-economy driving up exchange rates and inflation, imported food became cheaper than local produce. Farming became a slow death; business was the only jailbreak. The people fled production for circulation. The Igbos, much like the Wenzhou merchants of China, perfected a unique apprenticeship system. It is a grassroots VC model: seven years of unpaid labor in exchange for startup capital. It solved the lack of bank loans and liquefied the population into flowing commercial capital.

In Lagos’s Computer Village, you feel the visceral power of this vitality. It is the perfect counterpart to Shenzhen’s Huaqiangbei. If Huaqiangbei is the heart of global hardware—creating and ordering (entropy reduction)—Computer Village is the stomach, digesting and resurrecting (entropy increase). In that maze of tin shacks, any e-waste can be given another three years of life. Chinese companies like Transsion won this market precisely because they understood these pain points: the lack of power, the noise, and the specific needs of darker skin tones.

5. Dominance Through Noise

This high-pressure environment accidentally forged a cultural superpower. In the deafening markets of Lagos, only the signal with the highest signal-to-noise ratio—the loudest, most confident, most aggressive—gets heard. Projected onto culture, this survival strategy became Afrobeats and Nollywood.

Other continents might not feel it yet, but within Africa, Nigeria is the undisputed cultural hegemon. Their movies tell the stories of ordinary African hustle, ruling screens from Kenya to South Africa; their music defines the rhythm of modern Africa. This wasn’t a state strategy; it was the sublimation of suffering.

Yet, beneath this commercial boom and cultural swagger, there is little national identity. Nigerians are like strangers trapped in a malfunctioning elevator. They may mistrust or even despise each other, but they bond over the shared misery of the elevator.

If anything truly binds them, it’s not a shared ideal, but shared trauma. Pidgin English has become the only adhesive for these strangers, recording their collective memory of survival inside the belly of this dysfunctional beast.

6. Outsourcing Tax to Gangs

As state capacity rots further, the power vacuum is being filled by something else.

On the streets of Lagos, uniformed thugs from transport unions—Agberos—openly tax drivers. This isn’t just crime; it’s outsourced governance. The government tacitly allows gangs to maintain minimal order and collect protection fees in exchange for a cut. As economist Mancur Olson described with “Stationary Bandits,” the gangs have become the de facto rulers. Data suggests these gangs in Lagos collect more revenue than the official tax receipts of many other states.

This is a profound governance crisis. In the short term, gang rule creates a facade of order. But in the long term, without the rule of law, heavy industry cannot survive, and the educated class will continue to flee.

The Nigerian behemoth faces two closing walls: the global energy transition and a population explosion that is breaching the physical limits of extraction. When the day comes that the steel cable snaps, the real test begins.

Dunhuang Revisited - A 5-Day Family Trip

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 12 Sep 2025 00:28:00 +0000

It’s been four years since my last visit, and my daughter is finally old enough for a proper long-distance trip. The goal was to introduce her to the desert and Gobi, a landscape starkly different from the lush mountains and rivers of southern China.

Traveling with a kid raises the bar for transport and lodging. We narrowed it down to three well-established desert destinations: Mingsha Mountain in Dunhuang, Shapotou in Ningxia, and Xiangshawan in Inner Mongolia.

I’d been to Dunhuang before and written a detailed travelogue about it: Dunhuang Self-Drive 5 Days 4 Nights, covering all the main attractions.
Shapotou in Ningxia offers a unique combination of desert and the Yellow River.
Xiangshawan in Inner Mongolia is less scenic and more of a desert resort, but it’s commercially well-developed with plenty of attractions, including a water park.

After much discussion, my wife and I decided on a return trip to Dunhuang. Familiarity meant fewer potential pitfalls, plus we had a chance to visit the Yadan Geopark, which we missed last time. Having only been to the great Northwest once before, our decision to revisit the same city speaks volumes about its charm.

As of 2025, there’s a single direct flight from Hangzhou to Dunhuang, which departs in the afternoon and arrives in the evening. It was my daughter’s first flight, and she was thrilled.

Our itinerary dedicated the first and last days to travel, leaving us with three full days for exploring. We tackled the West Route to Yadan on day one, saving the next two for Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Lake.

West Thousand Buddha Caves

This was a stop along the West Route on our way to Yadan.

The famous Mogao Grottoes are also known as the Thousand Buddha Caves and are located east of Dunhuang. To the west lies a similar, smaller complex: the West Thousand Buddha Caves. For the average tourist who has already seen Mogao, a visit here isn’t essential, which explains the tranquility and lack of crowds.

We’ve visited Mogao before, and while our daughter is likely too young to appreciate the grottoes fully, giving her a quick glimpse was a good introduction. This place was perfect for that.

We joined a guided tour of four caves, where photography was forbidden. The statues here are more heavily damaged, but the murals are on par with those at Mogao. A few details were particularly striking and unique to this site:

The only tent-style grotto ceiling in all of Dunhuang, sloping down from a central beam in a nod to nomadic culture.
Partially restored statues from the Republic of China era, offering a rare look at their inner construction: a wooden core wrapped in straw and coated with mud.
A layered mural created by the Shazhou Uyghur regime. They whitewashed over original Sui and Tang dynasty frescoes to paint their own. Over the centuries, the whitewash has faded, allowing the older artwork to peek through, creating a fascinating overlap of two distinct artistic periods on a single wall.

Other features, like the predominantly male-like appearance of Sui dynasty Buddhas and the distinct representations of disciples Ananda and Kasyapa, are also seen at Mogao and serve as valuable resources for studying ancient history and fashion.

Yadan Geopark

Yadan is the final destination on the West Route, a road that literally ends there.

The first sight of Yadan is guaranteed to be awe-inspiring. Even for desert veterans, it’s an entirely new experience.

The perfectly flat terrain, the uniform horizontal textures of the yardang formations, and the vast, distant horizon combine to stretch one’s sense of space to the absolute limit. It’s a stunning display of order emerging from the chaos of nature.

The feeling is akin to gazing upon a sea of clouds from an airplane window.

The landscape’s formation is a story of natural order.

A diagram from Yadan’s official website clearly illustrates its geological evolution.

During the Middle Pleistocene (c. 300,000–100,000 years ago), this area was a freshwater lake that deposited perfectly level layers of soil. In the Late Pleistocene (c. 100,000–10,000 years ago), the land rose, the lake dried up, and the exposed layers were subjected to extreme temperature shifts. This, combined with persistent, powerful winds, began to carve the landscape much like water carves a canyon. The wind sculpted long, ridge-like yardangs, which were then further eroded into walls, towers, and pillars, destined to one day crumble back into dust.

The Yadan landscape is in a constant state of flux. What we see today is its geological prime. In tens of thousands of years, these magnificent structures will be gone.

Sightseeing Bus

The first leg of the tour is a bus ride with stops at designated viewpoints.

Our first stop was a police station built right into a yardang—a relic from the area’s initial development.

Many of the park’s yardangs have been named for things they resemble, the most striking being the “Peacock Standing Gracefully.” It’s remarkably lifelike. My daughter, however, was far more impressed by the swings at the rest stop, where we happily passed the time.

Of all the formations we saw, the most spectacular has to be the “West Sea Fleet,” a vast and rare collection of massive, ridge-like yardangs.

Here’s a GIF to give you a sense of the scale.

Vegetation is sparse here. Instead, black gravel acts as an anchor, securing the soil and protecting the landforms from wind erosion.

Electric Off-Road Vehicle

I’ve sketched a rough map; the red line is the bus route. It’s high-res enough to save. Based on my observations, there are at least three types of off-road vehicle experiences:

At the “Peacock” stop, there’s an “Off-Road Vehicle Station.” We skipped this one. Staff explained it follows the main road but allows you to stop anywhere. I suspect it takes the small blue loop on the map during the return journey.
At the start of the blue route, there’s another station where we rented a self-drive vehicle for ¥298. You can stop whenever you like but must stick to a designated gravel path. It’s a low-speed electric cart; the route takes about 20 minutes non-stop.
The electric cart route ends at the park’s prime sunset spot. Here, you’ll find more powerful off-roaders and boat-shaped “desert assault buses.” Staff said these could take you deep into the Gobi along the green route and back. I’m not sure how far in they go.

We took our time on the electric vehicle route, stopping frequently for photos and a Hami melon snack on the Gobi, turning a 20-minute ride into a nearly two-hour adventure.

A gallery to showcase the beauty of Yadan:

Former World of Warcraft players would surely appreciate my excitement, seeing landscapes reminiscent of The Barrens, Thousand Needles, and Shimmering Flats come to life. I felt an undeniable urge to just walk off into the deep Gobi alone.

While the park names these formations after familiar objects—some fitting, some a stretch—I believe that if you strip away human projections, its raw, natural form is a masterpiece of pure beauty.

Mingsha Mountain & Crescent Lake

We spent the next two days at Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Lake, an ideal desert playground for kids.

It’s rare to find a desert attraction so conveniently close to a city in China. It offers all the wildness and romance of the desert, yet it’s only a ten-minute taxi ride from our hotel. The ticket is valid for three consecutive days of unlimited entry, and it’s even free for residents of nearby cities like Jiuquan and Jiayuguan (check the official account for current policies).

The park has several gates, but the central one is the main entrance where taxis drop you off. The view upon entering is shown above, but it’s even more stunning at sunset. The interplay of light and shadow gives the dunes a dramatic, three-dimensional quality. I have more photos in my previous Dunhuang travelogue.

The park is split into two zones. The East Zone is geared towards adventure and “conquering nature,” with paid activities like hot air balloons, off-roading, and paragliding. The West Zone evokes the romance of the ancient Western Regions, featuring the camel camp, Crescent Lake, and sightseeing carts.

We had done the East Zone activities on our last trip, and they’re mostly unsuitable for young children, so we headed straight for the west. Under the midday sun, we found a shaded spot by Crescent Lake for our daughter to play freely in the sand.

This is one of my favorite spots in the park. Just out of frame to the lower left is Crescent Lake. The shape, layers, and curving ridge of this particular dune are perfect, projecting a sense of solitary power.

As the sun began to dip, we started exploring. My daughter absolutely loved the camels and rode one each day. Time was the only thing stopping her from going for another round.

We visited Crescent Lake and the Yuequan Pavilion on its shore. The small, lush courtyard feels wonderfully surreal set against the vast expanse of sand.

In the middle of the endless desert, this pristine little courtyard feels almost like a mirage.

From a vantage point above, the reflection of the towering dune in the water creates a stunning optical illusion, like a deep abyss.

For centuries, Crescent Lake has been sustained by natural groundwater. However, with the water table declining in recent years, the city of Dunhuang now artificially replenishes its groundwater to maintain the lake’s water level.

This small body of water supports a surprisingly vibrant ecosystem. We saw flocks of sparrows, a resident magpie, and even a stray cat.

As evening approached, the dunes began to take on a dramatic, three-dimensional texture. We decided to climb the nearest peak to watch night fall over the lake.

The dunes appear deceptively close. It’s only when you see the tiny silhouettes of people on the summit that you grasp their true scale.

We reached the top just in time to see the lights around Crescent Lake switch on, their glow complementing the fading sunset.

The nearby Crescent Lake Town is a new addition since our last visit. The park has added several new shows, which was a welcome surprise.

At 8:30 PM, the Starry Sky Concert kicked off in the town. There were no live singers, just a DJ playing a setlist over powerful speakers aimed at the dunes, with a host pumping up the energy. Tourists, glow sticks in hand, covered the entire hillside. The younger crowd belted out Power Station’s “Dang” with infectious enthusiasm during the mass singalong. I even saw a woman in her twenties, there by herself, spontaneously break into a street dance. Everyone was completely immersed, and the energy was contagious.

The concert was a surprise, as we had only intended to climb the dune for the view. On the other side, the rising moon illuminated a completely different world—one of perfect tranquility.

As the concert neared its end, a swarm of lights appeared from behind a distant dune. My first time seeing a drone show in person was here, in the middle of the desert.

The next day at the park was for more sand play and camel riding, but we had a “secret mission.” In the afternoon, we visited a photo studio outside the park where my wife and daughter got a “Feitian” (flying Apsara) makeover, transforming into an ethereal mother-daughter duo. These studios are everywhere and offer full photo packages, but we opted for just the costumes and makeup, with yours truly behind the lens.

We focused on portraits that day, so I didn’t take many landscape shots. After the photoshoot, we skipped the concert and headed back to the city for a celebratory dinner.

A Turbulent Return

On our last day, we had a flight back to Hangzhou. We chose a connecting flight through Lanzhou to avoid the early morning direct one. While the trip out was smooth, the return flights were uncomfortable. My daughter started feeling dizzy as we approached Lanzhou.

After a 30-minute rest in Lanzhou, we boarded the next plane. The descent into Hangzhou was turbulent, and my daughter succumbed to motion sickness.

To complicate matters, a thunderstorm was raging in Hangzhou. Our plane aborted its landing attempt at Xiaoshan Airport and had to divert to Wenzhou to wait for clearance. The Wenzhou airport was packed with other diverted flights, all queued up. After a long wait, the weather in Hangzhou finally cleared, and a 40-minute flight later, we landed.

By the time we got a taxi home, it was past 1 AM. We had spent over 10 hours on planes—as long as an international flight—leaving everyone drained. But my daughter’s motion sickness lingered. Halfway home, she got sick again all over the taxi, followed by several more episodes. We finally got home, cleaned up, and fell into bed after 2 AM.

She probably won’t want to get on a plane for a few years. But it was a test, and it was a clear sign that we’re not quite ready for long-haul international travel just yet.

Travel Notes

Visiting Dunhuang in early September is far more pleasant than in April, as you avoid the risk of sandstorms. Temperatures are about 10°C warmer, and a short-sleeved shirt with a light, long-sleeved sun-shirt is perfect for both day and night.

The West Route is a long haul. There are no public buses, and taxis won’t go that far, so your options are a tour, a chartered car, or self-driving. Yadan is a two-hour drive one-way from the city, and the basic park tour takes another two hours. If you go to Yadan, you’ll have time for at most one other stop on the route. It’s an incredible place for sunset, but with a young child’s bedtime and Dunhuang’s sunset being two hours later than Beijing time, we had to pass.

We chartered a car for the day and had a great chat with our local driver. I was surprised to learn that Dunhuang has hydropower; he used to work at one of the local stations. Despite the flat terrain, it plays a supporting role in Dunhuang’s energy mix.

The driver pointed out two common types of trees in the area: poplar and Lombardy poplar. The photo above was taken at the West Thousand Buddha Caves, so I’m not sure if these are the same. He explained that all the roadside trees are irrigated through underground pipes every 20 days or so. With maybe only five rainy days a year and rarely more than a drizzle, it’s a testament to the immense, unseen effort required to maintain greenery in a desert city.

Commercially, the Shazhou Night Market in downtown Dunhuang has grown exponentially in the last four years. What was once a single short food street is now a sprawling network of six or seven alleys filled with restaurants, souvenir shops, and photo studios.

Across from the market’s south gate, we stumbled upon a restaurant called “Chen Lao Ba Mutton Fen Tang.” We loved it so much we went twice, and our daughter ate heartily. The owner was incredibly passionate, coming over to explain the different cuts of lamb on our plate. Seeing us trim the fat off, he looked genuinely shocked and exclaimed, “But that’s the best part! What are you even eating?!”

An after-dinner stroll through the quiet local streets outside the market offered a novel and atmospheric experience, with their khaki-colored walls, warm yellow lamplight, and distinctly desert-like poplar trees.

A breakdown of our trip expenses:

After two trips, we feel we’ve now checked off all the major highlights of Dunhuang. Perhaps our next visit will be a stop on a grander Qinghai-Gansu loop tour—an adventure we’re already looking forward to.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

Sikkim A Nation That Quietly Vanished

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 28 Aug 2025 23:15:00 +0000

Let’s Talk Travel Plans

With a young child, we haven’t traveled far in years. Now that she’s older, international travel is on the table, though likely not until next year.

Our annual leave is limited, and a kid can’t handle a ten-plus hour flight, so our options are pretty narrow:

East: Japan and South Korea are culturally similar to us, not ideal for an “exotic” experience, though Tokyo Disneyland is a big draw.
South: A few relatively safe Southeast Asian countries and plenty of resort islands. Very suitable, worth considering.
West: The “-stan” countries. Exotic, for sure, but unfamiliar territory, and my wife isn’t interested.
North: Our neighbors, Mongolia and Russia. Not too keen on Mongolia, and Russia’s main attractions are in its European part, which is too far.

While lamenting the slim pickings, I realized I’d overlooked one direction: the other side of the Himalayas, the Indian subcontinent.

India is rarely on the radar for Chinese travelers, but the region is more than just India. I distinctly remember seeing three countries on the southern Himalayan slopes on maps as a kid: Nepal, Bhutan, and Sikkim. I even nicknamed them the “Himalayan Trio.”

Wait a minute… what happened to Sikkim?

Sikkim’s History: Swept Away by External Forces

A quick look at any map app—Baidu or Google—shows Sikkim clearly labeled as a state of India. The sovereign nation that once served as a buffer between China and India has silently vanished.

Some digging unearthed a buried chapter of history.

On April 14, 1975, the Kingdom of Sikkim held a referendum on whether to abolish the monarchy. A staggering 97.5% voted to depose the king and merge with India. A month later, India’s Parliament amended its constitution, and Sikkim officially became India’s 22nd state. Just like that, a kingdom that had existed for over 300 years was erased from the map after a seemingly “democratic” vote.

The process appeared impeccable: the Sikkimese people “voluntarily” renounced sovereignty, and India “honored their wishes.” But under international law, can a “merger” between two nations be considered legitimate under such circumstances?

This hits on a fundamental conflict in international law: the right to “self-determination” versus the “prohibition of the threat or use of force.” A people has the right to freely choose its destiny. But what if that choice is made at the barrel of a foreign army’s gun? Such “consent” is invalid. Sikkim’s referendum took place while the Indian army controlled the capital and had the king under house arrest. It was less an expression of popular will and more a political strong-arming.

After their country’s fall, Sikkim’s last king, Palden Thondup Namgyal, and his American queen, Hope Cooke, went into exile in the U.S. They didn’t go quietly. They spent their lives campaigning for restoration, lobbying the U.S. Congress, and giving interviews to expose the truth of India’s annexation. But against the backdrop of the Cold War, their tragic efforts earned sympathy but no tangible support. The king died of cancer in 1982, and with him, the dream of a sovereign Sikkim was extinguished.

To grasp this tragedy, you have to look further back. Sikkim, once known as Drenjong, was a tributary state of China’s Qing Dynasty with deep cultural ties to Tibet. In the 19th century, as British colonialism swept South Asia, Sikkim’s protectorate status shifted to the British Empire. To exploit the region, the British forcibly leased Darjeeling and imported vast numbers of Nepali laborers, sowing the seeds for Sikkim’s eventual demise.

Darjeeling

In 1947, an independent India inherited the British Empire’s sphere of influence and ambitions. By 1950, a treaty made Sikkim an Indian “protectorate,” giving India control over its defense, foreign affairs, and economy.

For the next two decades, India cultivated political parties of Nepali immigrants, exacerbating tensions with the native Tibetan Buddhist ruling class. As the Cold War peaked in the 1970s, India saw its opening.

The U.S. was bogged down in Vietnam and had no bandwidth for other conflicts. The Soviet Union, seeking to counter China, had formed a quasi-alliance with India, giving it a free hand in the region. And China was in the throes of the late Cultural Revolution; it issued the strongest condemnations but lacked the capacity for any meaningful military intervention.

Another critical factor: Sikkim was not a member of the UN. Since coming under British influence, it had never truly had foreign policy autonomy, and neither of its powerful patrons had any interest in giving it a seat at the table.

With the tacit approval of global powers and no one to intervene, India moved its troops into Sikkim in 1973, took over the government, disbanded the king’s guard, and orchestrated the 1975 “referendum.” A sovereign nation disappeared from the map, largely ignored by the international community. China only formally recognized Indian sovereignty over Sikkim in 2003 as part of normalizing relations, updating its official maps in 2005.

The Prime Movers: Geography and Demographics

Beyond the geopolitics, Sikkim’s fate was sealed by two cold, unforgiving factors: demographics and geography.

A nation’s foundation is its people—its “hardware.” The national narrative is the “operating system” (OS) running on it. A cheap way to weaken a nation is to attack its OS, making citizens question their identity and hindering the state’s ability to mobilize resources. Great powers do this constantly.

But if a nation’s population is below a critical mass, its hardware is inherently vulnerable. An external power doesn’t need to corrupt the OS; it can simply replace the hardware by engineering a population shift.

This was Sikkim’s tragedy. In 1975, its population was under 500,000. For context, a large residential complex in a Chinese city can house 10,000 people. Fifty such complexes—a mere sub-district in Guangzhou—was the entirety of Sikkim. It stood no chance against India’s demographic might. The influx of Nepali immigrants, which began under the British, fundamentally altered Sikkim’s ethnic and religious makeup. The rule of the monarchy, rooted in the native ethnic group and Tibetan Buddhism, was already on shaky ground. Once the immigrants became the majority, India only had to fan the flames and, under the guise of “democracy,” have this new “hardware”—now over 90% replaced—vote to delete the original “OS.”

Geography, meanwhile, creates the notion of a “sphere of influence,” motivating regional powers to expand. The tendency for a regional power to view smaller neighbors within its geographical sphere as its own backyard is a timeless geopolitical rule. They don’t have to be annexed, but they must be allies or, at a minimum, buffer zones.

The Indian subcontinent, enclosed by the sea on three sides and the world’s highest mountains to the north, is a self-contained theater. This is India’s home turf. It’s the same logic as the 19th-century U.S. Monroe Doctrine, which used the Atlantic and Pacific oceans as barriers to declare the Americas its domain. The underlying principle of the war in Ukraine is no different: a great power will not tolerate a hostile “OS” being installed in its core sphere of influence.

The situation in South Tibet (which India calls Arunachal Pradesh) is another product of this dynamic. This territory is not a case of annexation but a dispute between two major powers. Yet the underlying forces shaping the reality on the ground are identical.

Picture the region as a giant, south-sloping roof. India, situated below the eaves, can easily advance up the natural river valleys. China, on the other side of the Himalayan ridge, must first brave high-altitude, low-oxygen conditions, cross the crest, and then descend what are essentially sheer cliffs on the northern slope. This geographical asymmetry allows India to easily project its population and administration onto the southern slope, establishing de facto control. Although China decisively won the 1962 war and briefly controlled the area to assert its claim, maintaining long-term control was prohibitively costly. Withdrawing troops and shifting to a diplomatic standoff was, therefore, a pragmatic, if not ideal, outcome.

Ultimately, under the immense pressures of demography and geography, the tiny nation of Sikkim was simply erased. Its independence had been nominal long before the annexation. What I saw on the map as a child was merely its ghost. History can be that cold.

Wary Neighbors: Bhutan and Nepal

Sikkim’s fate was a chilling lesson for its neighbors, Bhutan and Nepal. The fear of being next keeps them perpetually wary of India’s ambitions.

It’s not that India lacks ambition, but that the cost and risk of repeating that playbook have become too high. To survive, Bhutan and Nepal have worked hard to secure their “hardware” and bolster their “software.”

First, the demographic “hardware.”

In 1975, Bhutan’s population was several times Sikkim’s, but still in the same order of magnitude. Nepal’s, however, was in the tens of millions. A demographic takeover was plausible in Bhutan, but having learned from Sikkim, it took active measures to protect its population. Nepal, on the other hand, is a veritable “ethnic mosaic” with over 140 recognized groups, none comprising more than 17% of the population. This hyper-diversity makes it difficult to subvert the state by backing any single group. Still, deep economic and religious ties bind Nepal to India.

Over 80% of Nepal’s population is Hindu

More crucial is the “software” of national identity.

Nepal’s pride in never having been fully colonized provides a historical foundation for its independence. Ironically, India’s relentless political meddling has become the most effective glue uniting its diverse ethnic groups.

Bhutan, with a similar profile to Sikkim, is more vulnerable. But it has astutely cultivated a unique national narrative around “Gross National Happiness” while fiercely guarding its demographic integrity. Since the 1950s, the government has pursued policies to assimilate or expel Nepali immigrants to protect its majority culture. This proactive “hardware maintenance” preserved its ethnic and cultural independence, preventing it from being hollowed out from within. Nevertheless, trapped by geography and economic dependence, it cannot escape India’s pervasive influence. India is a formidable presence they cannot simply wish away.

Bhutan’s culture is very similar to Tibet’s

Watching these two small nations deploy every strategy available, one can only imagine the immense effort a large country must expend to maintain its own national narrative.

Ironically, India struggles to tell its own national story, which weakens its ability to undermine others’. The official narrative, “Unity in Diversity,” feels abstract. For most Indians, identities like “Hindu,” “Muslim,” “Tamil,” or “Punjabi” are far more tangible in daily life than the modern concept of “Indian.” India can’t export a story more compelling than “the glory of the Gurkhas” or “the happiness of the Dragon Kingdom” because its own “OS” is a patchwork system built for compatibility, not conversion.

Today’s global environment has also changed. Globalization interconnects all nations, and social media can amplify any conflict instantly, making victory in the court of public opinion as important as victory on the battlefield. Sikkim’s annexation was a regional affair; a similar act today would be a global scandal. While geography and demographics in South Asia favor India, the efforts of Nepal and Bhutan allow them to maintain political independence and avoid internal collapse. For everything else, they are deeply intertwined with India. The forces that preserve their fragile independence likely stem more from international oversight, external powers, and India’s own strategic calculations.

So, Can You Actually Travel There?

Of course, politics is beyond the influence of ordinary people like us. Let’s get back to the practical question: are the former “Himalayan Trio” viable travel destinations?

The answer: your experience will vary dramatically depending on the color of your passport.

Nepal: Completely open. It’s visa-free for Indian citizens, offers free visa-on-arrival for Chinese citizens, and provides visas on arrival for most other nationalities. Blessed by geography, its tourism economy, centered on Mount Everest, welcomes all travelers.

Bhutan: Exclusive and controlled. Indian citizens receive special, near visa-free access. However, Bhutan has no formal diplomatic ties with China and enforces a strict “High-Value, Low-Volume” tourism policy for everyone else. This requires booking through an approved agency, paying a daily $100 “Sustainable Development Fee,” and being accompanied by a guide at all times. No independent travel.

Sikkim State: Sensitive and restricted. For Indian citizens, most areas are open. But all foreigners need a special permit. For Chinese citizens, due to historical and political sensitivities, obtaining a travel permit for Sikkim is virtually impossible. For us, it’s effectively an off-limits zone.

So, on the southern slopes of the Himalayas, the only truly open and accessible destination is Nepal.

But then again, it doesn’t strike me as the best place for a trip with a young child. Buddhist monasteries and snow-capped peaks probably can’t compete with sandy beaches and theme parks. It looks like my search for a family vacation spot will have to continue.

Zhejiang Museum of Surveying, Mapping, and Geoinformation

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 04 Jul 2025 13:33:00 +0000

On a whim, I took a day off to explore this niche museum I’d stumbled upon. It’s part of the Zhejiang Academy of Surveying and Mapping Science and Technology. I didn’t expect much, planning just a quick look, but the quality was surprisingly high. The very first exhibit had me hooked.

The museum spans two floors. The first floor traces the history of Chinese surveying and mapping from ancient to modern times. The second floor features two halls: one on modern applications of surveying and GIS (Geographic Information System), and another on maps. The GIS hall is packed with interactive, kid-friendly exhibits.

Time was short—just one morning—so I snapped as many photos as I could to pore over later, though I still missed most of it. Anyway, let’s take a quick virtual tour.

Ancient Chinese Surveying and Mapping

The first hall on ancient surveying techniques posed a question we moderns rarely consider: without rigorous science like geometry, did early humans rely purely on intuition?

Absolutely not.

While our perception can be vague, interacting with the physical world demands precision. The laws of physics make quantitative measurement a necessity.

Vertical Surveying

Take well-digging. The ancients couldn’t just dig on a whim. A well had to be perfectly vertical to prevent collapse and make drawing water easier. They might not have known about gravity, but they understood that a hanging weight points straight down.

The pointed piece of wood in the bottom left is a plumb bob, suspended by a rope from the well’s center. The large wooden stake next to it is a sighting pile. It’s hard to see through the glass, but there’s a small hollow carved in its top. While digging, they kept the plumb bob pointing at that hollow. As the well deepened, the rope lengthened, and the sighting pile was moved lower. With this setup, they could keep the well perfectly vertical, as shown in the diagram.

This simple setup was the world’s earliest surveying tool. This method is still used in construction today. You’ve probably heard of it: the plumb line.

Horizontal Surveying

While gravity makes finding ‘up’ and ‘down’ easy, the horizontal plane is trickier to measure precisely.

This is where maps come in. Cave paintings weren’t just art; alongside scenes of daily life and belief, ancient people drew highly practical maps.

This 3,500-year-old rock painting of a settlement in Cangyuan, Yunnan, shows the distribution of houses and roads—an abstraction of the physical world.

The further I walked, the more I appreciated the genius of the map. As land-bound creatures who can’t fly, our world is essentially two-dimensional. We don’t burrow underground or float in the air, so it’s natural to represent our world on a flat surface, ignoring altitude and focusing on the cardinal directions.

A map is the ultimate tool for filtering key information from the noise of the natural world. A tribal chief cared where the houses, roads, and livestock were, but not how many trees were in a certain area.

From Qualitative to Quantitative

But the Cangyuan rock painting is purely qualitative. It shows a house is near a road, but not how far. It doesn’t tell us which of two houses is closer.

Why does this matter? Without quantitative data, we can’t make comparisons at scales beyond what the eye can see.

We understand the world through comparison, relating new concepts to what we already know. By spotting similarities and differences, we learn.

For example, if I tell you the Earth’s circumference is 40,000 kilometers, the number is too big to grasp. But if I say that light can circle the Earth 7.5 times per second, you get it. The fastest thing we know takes a noticeable amount of time to circle our planet, which means Earth is immense.

That 7.5 is a quantitative expression. Numbers allow for comparison, and using math to measure the world frees us from vague intuition.

To compare numbers, they must share the same units. Which is longer, one meter or one zhang? Without a conversion, nobody knows. Standardizing units unifies a country’s mathematical language. Yes, math has dialects: calculation methods are grammar, and units are pronunciation. When everyone speaks the same mathematical language, people from different regions can trade more easily or collaborate on building the Great Wall, enabling the efficient flow of resources.

This puts Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s standardization of weights and measures in a new light. It wasn’t just a grand gesture; it was a practical necessity for ruling a vast empire.

The exhibit also revealed something I’d never considered: the Qin Dynasty had officials specifically in charge of surveying and cartography. This shows how crucial these tasks were to the state; at such a macro level, no decision could be based on feeling alone.

With standardized units and measurement techniques, it became possible to shrink vast territories onto small maps.

A topographic map from Mawangdui Tomb No. 3. I’ve transcribed the description:

Measuring 96x96 cm, it depicts the southern part of the Changsha Kingdom in the early Western Han Dynasty, now the upper Xiang River, the Nanling and Jiuyi Mountains, and surrounding areas. The orientation is south-up. The scale is roughly 1:170,000 to 1:190,000. Analysis confirms it is a surveyed topographic map.

I’m not familiar with the geography of Hunan and Guangxi. Note that the Mawangdui map must be rotated 180 degrees to match modern maps. Over 2,000 years, river systems may have changed, but the mountains still seem to align well. Can any friends from Hunan or Guangxi comment on the accuracy of this Han Dynasty survey?

The Math Behind Surveying

Once surveying methods exist, someone is bound to create a science out of them.

geometry(n.)

early 14c., also gemetrie, gemetry, from Old French geometrie (12c., Modern French géométrie), from Latin geometria, from Greek geometria “measurement of earth or land; geometry,” from combining form of gē “earth, land” (see Gaia) + -metria “a measuring of” (see -metry). Old English used eorðcræft “earth-craft” as a loan-translation of Latin geometria.

The word “geometry” traces back to ancient Greece, where it meant “earth measurement.” It allowed for objective comparisons of land area, settling disputes between farmers. From such practical problems, this science of shapes emerged.

China had its own geometric pioneers. Liu Hui, a mathematician of the Three Kingdoms period, wrote a treatise on measuring the height of a sea island in his commentary on the Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art. It systematically used the principle of similar triangles to remotely measure an island’s height without setting foot on it. This was China’s first mathematical work on surveying.

Measuring a sea island might sound trivial, but it freed surveyors from physical constraints, enabling the remote measurement of large, distant objects. The principle of similar triangles is foundational to modern astronomy.

A nearby interactive exhibit demonstrated the principle. Tapping the screen showed an ancient cartoon figure with a pole, taking a few measurements to get the result.

Place a pole of known height, step back until its top visually aligns with the island peak, and record the horizontal distance to the pole. That creates a small right triangle (eye–pole top–pole base) similar to the large triangle (eye–island peak–island base). One sighting gives a ratio between height and distance but leaves both unknown. Repeat from a second spot farther out along the same sightline with another pole and measure the separation between the two pole positions. Those two similar-triangle equations plus the known separation give two equations for two unknowns, allowing you to solve for the island’s height and distance.

So, not only is the island’s height calculated, but the distance to it is found as well.

Measuring Water Levels: The Grand Canal

With basic math, even without systematic physics, ancient people could build incredible things, like a nationwide canal.

Here’s a question: Is the water level of the 1,700-km Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal constant?

Impossible. The terrain varies, with some cities on high ground and others in lowlands. A canal built at a high elevation would flood low-lying cities if it leaked. Building it at a low elevation would require carving through mountains to reach higher cities.

So, canals are built in sections, each with its own water level. The Panama Canal, for example, uses locks to separate segments. A chamber between two segments changes its water level. A ship enters, the gate behind it closes, and water from the next segment flows in, raising the ship to the next level. Step by step, the ship conquers the terrain.

An astute observer might ask: doesn’t water constantly flow out of the higher sections? Yes, it does. A canal isn’t a self-sustaining system; it needs external water sources to replenish the upper levels. A dry season could even shut it down.

Clearly, building the Grand Canal was more than just digging a long trench. It required immense, precise surveying and calculation to find suitable routes. Guo Shoujing of the Yuan Dynasty was the first in China to use “sea level” as a baseline to compare canal sections, introducing the concept of “altitude.”

A bit of trivia: The Grand Canal was built during the Sui Dynasty, but it wasn’t the “Beijing-Hangzhou” Grand Canal at first. The Sui capital was Chang’an, and later Luoyang. A canal would have to serve the capital. The original main artery was centered on Luoyang, connecting the northern plains to the southern Jiangnan region, funneling goods to the capital.

In the later Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties, the political focus shifted north, and the importance of Chang’an and Luoyang faded. Massive resources were poured into the canal between Beijing and Hangzhou, which gradually became the main trunk.

I learned this from the Canal Museum by the Gongchen Bridge in Hangzhou. If you’re interested, major cities along the canal likely have their own museums documenting this history.

Measuring the Earth: The Meridian Line

Besides measuring things on the ground, the ancients also measured the Earth itself.

In ancient civilizations worldwide, heaven and earth were seen as connected and mutually influential. The Tang dynasty monk Yi Xing was tasked with creating a more accurate astronomical calendar to predict celestial events and guide life on Earth. He set up 13 observation stations over a vast distance, from Mongolia to Vietnam, and had his teams simultaneously measure the altitude of the North Star and the length of the noon shadow.

Because the Earth is a sphere, the North Star’s altitude and the noon shadow’s length vary with latitude. Using this data, he calculated the arc length of a degree of the meridian with the highest accuracy of his time.

In ancient China, “zi” meant north and “wu” south, so a “ziwu line” was a north-south arc on the Earth’s surface—what we call a meridian line.

The arc length of one degree of longitude is key data; it can be used to calculate the size of the Earth. This discovery could have sparked an age of exploration for China. But that didn’t happen, partly because the concept of a spherical Earth wasn’t yet widely accepted.

Measuring the Sky: The Cross-Staff

The ancients also measured the sky.

At sea, with no landmarks, the sky is the only guide. By day, you have the sun. At night, what do you have? The moon is unreliable; as Earth’s satellite, its position is too variable.

Ancient nighttime navigation relied on the stars. This worked because the distant stars form a fixed map in the sky.

Strictly speaking, stars aren’t completely fixed; their own motion and the Earth’s precession slowly change their positions. But these changes are so gradual that for ancient navigators, the stars were a stable and information-rich guide, even more so than the sun. The challenge was learning to read this celestial “map.”

The cross-staff was a tool for measuring a ship’s latitude, usually by sighting the North Star.

It looks complex, but the principle is simple. You select one of the square boards. Holding it at arm’s length, you align its bottom edge with the horizon. If the top edge lines up with the North Star, you’ve found the star’s altitude.

If the “six-finger” board lines up, you’d say, “The North Star is six fingers high.” This measurement could be converted to latitude using a table. A “finger” was a unit of about 2cm. If the alignment wasn’t perfect, you’d try a smaller or larger board.

Amazingly, this crude device played a huge role in Zheng He’s voyages. The method was obviously prone to error—arm lengths differ, and holding the board perfectly vertical on a rocking ship is difficult. But this principle inspired more advanced instruments, like the sextant.

Coincidentally, I found an article from the museum’s official WeChat account that details how to use the cross-staff.

The cross-staff and sextant measure latitude. Longitude was a much harder problem for all ancient seafaring civilizations. But why was knowing only latitude so useful? If you were sailing to a known location, you could look up its latitude, sail north or south until you reached that latitude, and then simply sail east or west along it.

However, I suspect this method would be less effective in archipelagos.

Nationwide Large-Scale Surveys

Rulers throughout history recognized the benefits of accurate measurement and periodically launched nationwide survey campaigns.

Guo Shoujing of the Yuan Dynasty was ordered to conduct a nationwide survey, rivaling Yi Xing’s in scope.

To compile a new calendar, Guo Shoujing led an unprecedented “Four Seas Survey.” It ranged from the Paracel Islands in the south to near the Arctic Circle. Using instruments he invented, like the simplified armillary sphere (Jianyi), he measured the latitudes of 27 locations with accuracy very close to modern values.

In what is now Dengfeng, Henan, Guo Shoujing built an observatory that functioned as a giant gnomon; it’s the oldest surviving observatory in China. To improve accuracy, he invented a “shadow definer” that used a pinhole to measure shadow length to within ±2 millimeters.

This is the Jianyi, a simplified armillary sphere. It looks anything but simple, but its function was direct: to measure a celestial body’s coordinates.

Time was running short, so I didn’t examine the Jianyi closely. I was the only visitor, and a staff member, noticing my interest, told me I could use the paper from the entrance to make a souvenir map rubbing. I chose the “Mountains and Rivers of the Nine Provinces.” Here’s the result:

I asked how large the museum was and realized I’d seen only a fifth of it in half a day. I sped up, stopping only for things that immediately caught my eye and taking photos of the rest.

The renowned scholar-emperor Kangxi personally studied and directed a massive survey that produced the Huangyu Quanlan Tu (Map of the Imperial Territories).

Emperor Kangxi of the Qing Dynasty personally directed a large-scale survey using latitude, longitude, and triangulation. It produced 641 coordinate points across the country. Combined with China’s vast geographical literature, this data was used to create the Huangyu Quanlan Tu, China’s first map based on measured coordinates. Its coverage, accuracy, and speed were unparalleled in the world at the time. The project also led to the first survey of Mount Everest and provided the first empirical evidence that the Earth is an oblate spheroid, marking a great leap for Chinese surveying technology.

Regarding the “first discovery that the Earth is an oblate spheroid,” I did some digging. With so much data, they spotted a pattern: the arc length of one degree of latitude was longer at high latitudes than at low latitudes. This meant the Earth is slightly flattened at the poles and bulges at the equator. The difference between Earth’s polar and equatorial diameters is just 0.33%—a tiny discrepancy on a planetary scale, discoverable only through precise measurement. However, “first discovery” should really be “first confirmed,” as Newton had already theorized an oblate spheroid.

But this led me to a contradiction: why does a longer arc length at higher latitudes mean the poles are flatter? My intuition said the opposite.

Let’s exaggerate. If the Earth spun much faster, centrifugal force would flatten it like a lens. A cross-section would show that the meridian arc from 0 to 45 degrees is clearly longer than the arc from 45 to 90 degrees.

To avoid being tricked by intuition, I reasoned it out. A quarter meridian can be divided into 90 one-degree arcs. If the high-latitude arcs are longer, then ... < arc 44-45 < arc 45-46 < .... Logically, the total arc length above 45 degrees should be greater than that below it. But my diagram shows the opposite. Where’s the flaw?

After some research, I found the flaw was in my understanding of “latitude.”

We’re used to thinking of Earth as a perfect sphere where latitude lines are evenly spaced. On a perfect sphere, definitions of latitude don’t matter. But on an oblate spheroid, the two common definitions differ:

Geodetic Latitude: The angle between the normal (a line perpendicular to the surface) and the equatorial plane. This line does not necessarily pass through the Earth’s center.
Geocentric Latitude: The angle between a line from the surface to the Earth’s center and the equatorial plane.

As the diagram shows, 45 degrees geodetic latitude is not where you’d intuitively think it is. Conflict resolved.

My mistake was assuming geocentric latitude, a classic case of modern knowledge leading to a wrong assumption. Geographical latitude is geodetic. From an ancient perspective, geodetic latitude is far more intuitive and measurable—you don’t even need to believe the Earth is a sphere to use it. The concept of geocentric latitude, on the other hand, is meaningless without a spherical Earth model.

Enough about latitude. Back to the Huangyu Quanlan Tu. The museum had a QR code for an audio guide, which I’ve transcribed:

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1223

There were also several other ancient surveying instruments on display:

Kangxi Era Globe (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1224

A globe offers a visual overview of the Earth. This one was made by the Imperial Household Department workshop, based on the Kunyu Tushuo (Illustrated Account of the Earth) by Ferdinand Verbiest, a Belgian missionary and Emperor Kangxi’s science tutor. The theory of a round Earth is the basis for latitude and longitude measurement and map projection.

Gilt Copper Orrery of the Seven Luminaries (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1225

Used to demonstrate the movements of the seven luminaries (Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, Saturn, the Sun, and the Moon) and celestial events like eclipses. Longitude for the Huangyu Quanlan Tu was measured primarily by observing lunar eclipses and the occultations of Jupiter’s moons.

Imperial Gilt Copper Astrolabe (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1226

Used to calculate time for geodetic surveys. It consists of a base plate, a celestial plate, a triangular gnomon, and a plumb line. The celestial plate is rotated to align the gnomon with key stars, and the time is read from the corresponding solar term on the base plate.

Theodolite with a Single Telescope (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1227

Used to measure azimuth angles. The disk is engraved from 10° to 360° and has four sight vanes. Two are fixed, and two are movable, supporting a telescope with a spirit level for horizontal correction.

Copper Altitude Quadrant (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1228

Used to measure the altitude of a celestial body or an object above the horizon, and also for horizontal angles. The base has an embedded compass to correct the measurement direction.

Plane Table (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1229

Used to measure distances and survey plots of land. One side has fixed sight vanes, and a movable alidade is in the lower-left. Drawing paper is clipped to the board, allowing for simultaneous surveying and drawing.

Black Lacquer Box of Drawing Instruments (Replica)

http://ws.taoart.com/bwgAudio/audio/detail.htm?id=1230

This two-layered box contains over thirty drawing instruments, including various dividers, compasses, scales, rulers, and a protractor.

Modern and Contemporary Chinese Surveying and Mapping

After the ancient section, I skipped a small exhibit on modern history and went straight to the contemporary surveying area.

Surveying Datums

First up: national surveying datums. In plain English: what do we measure, and by what standards?

The geodetic control network defines 3D coordinates. Ground survey reference stations are scattered across the country. Like the international prototype meter and kilogram, their coordinates are maintained with extreme precision, and all other locations are calculated relative to them.

This involves ground stations, real-time satellite monitoring, and data centers. Even minute factors like tectonic plate movement are tracked, allowing the system to dynamically update the true coordinates of each station.

A model of a classic geodetic origin. China’s geodetic origin is in Jingyang County, Shaanxi Province. It was chosen in the last century because it was near the country’s geographical center and geologically stable. This facilitated the expansion of the control network nationwide.

Today, however, the network no longer uses a physical origin. With modern technology, the geodetic origin is defined as the Earth’s center of mass, in line with international standards.

The vertical control network is similar, defining numerous reference points for altitude.

This is a model of a leveling benchmark, the starting point for altitude measurements, located on Guanxiang Hill in Qingdao.

There are also reference points for gravity.

And a network of reference stations for satellite navigation and positioning.

A satellite navigation and positioning reference station.

Applications of Datums

What can we do with these datums?

With accurate 3D coordinates, we can perform precise nationwide analysis for the first time.

The Hu Huanyong Line diagonally divides China. A comparison of the two sides reveals a stark population imbalance:

In 1935, geographer Hu Huanyong proposed a line dividing China’s population density. It runs from Heihe to Tengchong. At the time, 96% of the population lived on 36% of the land southeast of the line, while 4% lived on the other 64%.

This demographic divide persists. According to the 2010 census, 94% of the population lives on 43% of the land southeast of the line, with 6% on the remaining 57%.

Hu didn’t just draw an arbitrary line. It’s a real geographical boundary where population density drops off sharply, and it has been stable for a long time. It reflects China’s geographical realities and closely matches the 400mm annual precipitation line. Monsoons, water resources, terrain, and history have all contributed to the distinctly different civilizations on either side: agricultural and pastoral.

The first national geographical census determined the breakdown of cultivated land:

Type	Area (10,000 sq km)	Percentage (%)
Paddy Field	30.39	19.00
Dry Land	109.52	68.49
Orchard	11.64	7.28
Other	8.36	5.23
Total	159.91	100

It also tallied the distribution of water resources by altitude:

Region	Area (10,000 sq km)	Percentage (%)
Extremely High Altitude	0.49	2.37
High Altitude	4.72	22.86
Medium Altitude	2.01	9.73
Low Altitude	13.43	65.04
Total	20.65	100

And vegetation cover by altitude:

Region	Area (10,000 sq km)	Percentage (%)
Extremely High Altitude	37.42	6.27
High Altitude	129.00	21.62
Medium Altitude	210.42	35.26
Low Altitude	219.94	36.85
Total	596.78	100

Further on, an exhibit detailed the three measurements of Mount Everest’s height. The latest official height is 8848.86 meters to the “snow surface.” You can easily find the story behind this online.

I passed a futuristic installation with a sleek console and an oddly shaped screen, like something from an alien spaceship.

It was an interactive exhibit on how survey data is used for earthquake disaster relief.

Another clever device: rotating discs on a barrel showed the historical changes of cities in Zhejiang.

The modern section on the first floor was much larger than I’ve shown. I didn’t photograph many of the display boards with dense text.

As I left the first-floor hall, I saw two opposing interactive walls. Touching a painting on the wall lit up the corresponding object, reminding visitors of the pervasive impact of surveying technology on modern society.

Applications of Surveying Technology

On the second floor, the focus shifted from history to the technology itself.

Of course, it began with a touch of history, showcasing the geographical views of different civilizations over time.

Note the timeline: the theory of a spherical Earth was proposed in the 6th century BC. Two centuries later, there was already strong evidence to support it.

In the 6th century BC, the ancient Greek Pythagoras proposed the concept of a spherical Earth. Two centuries later, Aristotle further argued for it based on the spherical shadow during a lunar eclipse, astronomical observations, and the way ships disappear over the horizon.

Yet, nearly 2,000 years later, most people still believed the Earth was a flat disc.

Before the 15th-17th centuries, many Europeans believed the ocean was a vast, flat plane ending in a waterfall. This view was gradually overturned during the Age of Discovery.

It’s a powerful reminder of how long it can take for a now-obvious truth to overcome cognitive inertia. It also makes you wonder: what if the scientific spirit of ancient Greece had continued uninterrupted?

Numerical Measurement

Once we knew the Earth was a sphere, we had to measure it.

A few related but distinct concepts are at play here. Imagine the Earth as a perfect ellipsoid (the green dashed line). The actual solid surface (mountains, seabeds) is uneven (the solid green line). You can’t use this uneven surface as a baseline for measuring height. A more uniform reference is sea level (the solid white line). But because Earth’s mass isn’t evenly distributed, the sea level (the geoid) doesn’t perfectly match a standard ellipse.

Coincidentally, I’d just seen a NASA image of the geoid on social media. It gives you a great visual for how much the geoid, shaped by gravity, differs from a perfect sphere.

This device lets you see how topographic maps are made. Using the geoid concept, imagine slicing the Earth with parallel planes at regular intervals. The lines where these planes intersect the terrain are the contour lines.

You can shape the sand in the sandbox, and an overhead projector instantly redraws the contour lines on the new terrain.

This area was lined with an impressive collection of surveying instruments.

The section on marine positioning caught my eye. The diagram shows two common acoustic positioning methods for missions at sea.

The long-baseline method (left) is used for long-term projects in a fixed area, like oil drilling or cable laying. A ship deploys an array of transponders on the seabed and calibrates their positions to centimeter-level accuracy. The ship can then use signals from at least three transponders to pinpoint its own location with extreme precision.

The short-baseline method is used to track moving underwater objects, like ROVs. It works in reverse: the ship emits a sound wave, and receivers at three different points on the ship listen for the object’s reply, calculating its position for precise control.

The unmanned survey boat is surprisingly small.

This exhibit showed the evolution of underwater survey technology. Ancient methods involved lowering a weighted, knotted rope and counting the knots to determine depth.

With sonar, you can measure the depth along a ship’s path.

Multibeam sonar scans a wide swath at once, creating a full 3D image of the seafloor, not just a line of depth soundings.

And so, we land-dwellers have a detailed understanding of the ocean floor. Our maps can even reflect submarine topography.

We can also map topography across time. This diagram shows how the coastline of the Zhejiang region has changed over geological eras.

Image-based Measurement

With modern computer vision and AI, a new path to surveying has opened up: visual measurement, or remote sensing. We capture images and analyze the data within them.

The history of remote sensing technology.

An interesting device showed how aerial drone photos of a city are stitched together. This is the same process used to create the satellite layer in map apps.

Remote sensing goes beyond visible light, using infrared, microwave, and other bands to gather richer information.

GIS Systems

This hall was a highlight, showcasing the true power of surveying technology. All the history and techniques discussed so far are about collecting data.

But are numbers and images the end goal? In data analysis, raw data is useless, no matter how much you have. It must be cleaned, processed, and integrated to derive meaning.

Similarly, scattered survey data must be integrated into a system to create a multi-dimensional reconstruction of our world. This is GIS: the Geographic Information System.

This board displays one of the earliest applications of GIS.

In mid-19th century London, during a cholera outbreak, Dr. John Snow (no, not that one) mapped the locations of cases. He noticed they clustered around a specific water pump, allowing him to identify and disable the source of the contamination.

This is a landmark case in the history of data analysis. I’ll recommend a documentary at the end that covers this story.

This interactive screen offered a complete introduction to GIS. I really wanted to explore it, but I’ll have to save that for next time.

This installation demonstrated GIS for supermarket site selection. Imagine a city wants to build a new public-welfare supermarket. It needs to be on a main road, serve a large population, be near a transport hub, have reasonable rent, and avoid existing competitors. Following the steps, the device filters down to the optimal locations.

Only by integrating data on road networks, population, transport hubs, land prices, and property types can such an analysis be performed. This highlights the unique power of GIS.

There was also a racing game I didn’t try. I’m not sure what aspect of GIS it demonstrated, but it seemed popular with kids—it’s all over Xiaohongshu (Little Red Book) posts about the museum.

This flood inundation analysis tool demonstrates a value far greater than site selection. It simulates a river basin flood, allowing for rapid assessment of which villages will be affected, enabling time-critical evacuation decisions.

When we see disaster relief news, we see frontline responders and strategic command centers. But behind their rapid response is a robust geographic information database.

A nation’s strength is highly correlated with its level of informatization. National power is the ability to mobilize resources, and data’s role in that is ever-growing.

This installation showed how remote sensing technology helps fight forest fires.

Manual or automated analysis of fire imagery provides crucial, real-time intelligence for firefighting efforts and helps predict a fire’s spread.

Next, I passed through a dome theater. I caught the 10:40 AM show, a 5-minute film about the BeiDou Navigation Satellite System. Unfortunately, it didn’t make great use of the dome format; it felt more like a regular video projected on a curved screen.

This series of panels showed macro-level applications of GIS in public life.

The role of GIS in the power grid can be abstract, so let me explain.

We take for granted that electricity is always there when we flip a switch. But when you turn on an air conditioner, where does that extra power come from?

At the other end of the grid, a natural gas plant might ramp up its output slightly. Or a solar farm might discharge a bit from its battery storage.

Electricity travels at near light speed. The moment you turn on your AC, it needs that power. How does the plant know?

This is the incredible challenge of a national power grid. The grid must constantly predict load changes and dispatch flexible power sources (hydro, gas, batteries) to match demand in real-time.

What if supply and demand don’t match? The entire grid and all its connected equipment must operate at a precise AC frequency. A significant mismatch causes the frequency to drift, which damages equipment. Damaged equipment destabilizes the frequency further, creating a vicious cycle that can lead to a nationwide blackout.

Therefore, the grid must predict and react to demand changes almost instantly, automatically dispatching power plants. This instantaneous response requires perfect time synchronization across the entire system.

This is where GIS plays a vital, life-or-death role: providing that precise time synchronization.

This installation simulated a military application of GIS: using satellite positioning to direct missile strikes.

Target locked. I hit the launch button and slipped away to the next exhibit. Heroes in movies always walk away from explosions without looking back, right? 😉

The Story of Maps

The last hall on the second floor was dedicated to maps, the product of all this surveying. “Viewing the world on a tiny square”—the phrase perfectly captures the essence of a map.

Entering the hall, I was greeted by a stunning collection of rare ancient maps—a paradise for any map lover.

The people of the Marshall Islands invented sea charts made of bound sticks.

A Babylonian stone-carved world map.

A floor plan of a garden from a tomb in Egypt.

Ptolemy’s world map.

Ptolemy is famous for his geocentric model. Modern people, accustomed to the heliocentric model, often see him as a figure of ridicule, but that’s a Whiggish perspective to be avoided. Ptolemy actually made enormous contributions to astronomy and geography.

In geography, he was a great synthesizer of past knowledge. On his map, he used innovative projection methods and rigorous math to represent the spherical Earth on a flat plane with minimal distortion. It was the most comprehensive and accurate map of its time. He also established a precise latitude and longitude system, correlating Earth’s coordinates with those of the celestial sphere.

Ironically, his map contained a major error. He underestimated the Earth’s circumference by nearly 30% (Eratosthenes’s earlier calculation was off by only 2%). He also overestimated the east-west span of Eurasia and was, of course, unaware of the Americas. On his map, it looked like only a narrow sea separated Europe from the Far East. Because of Ptolemy’s immense academic influence, his flawed map was taken as gospel and, by a twist of fate, helped inspire the Age of Discovery.

An ancient map from the Islamic world, full of the atmosphere of the Arabian Nights.

The first detailed nautical chart of Northern Europe.

The Kunyu Wanguo Quantu (Map of the Myriad Countries of the World), was drawn in Ming Dynasty Beijing by the Italian missionary Matteo Ricci. It was China’s first map with complete longitude and latitude lines and delivered a huge shock to the prevailing Chinese view of a flat earth under a round heaven, with China at the center.

To soften the blow, Ricci used a clever trick: he shifted the prime meridian to place China and the Pacific Ocean at the center of the map.

A map of the Aztec capital, drawn by Europeans.

A map of Hainan Province from the Daoguang era of the Qing Dynasty. Frankly, many modern tourist maps aren’t this beautiful.

An old map of Hangzhou inspired by Marco Polo’s travels. It comes from a Civitates Orbis Terrarum (Atlas of the Cities of the World) and is the only East Asian city included.

After the map appreciation, I came to another section of the map hall, which mainly talked about the various aspects behind maps, such as projection methods, and the relationship between maps and national sovereignty.

Due to time constraints, I only snapped a few photos about map projections before leaving in a hurry.

The most common projection today is the Mercator, shown above. Its problem is that it drastically enlarges high-latitude areas, making Greenland look nearly the size of South America. Comparing a map to a globe makes this distortion obvious.

Afterword

I left buzzing with excitement. I’d truly discovered a hidden treasure. A second visit is definitely in order; there’s so much I didn’t have time to properly appreciate.

The museum’s structure is very clear: it starts with the history of surveying, delves into the technology, and ends with the products—GIS and maps. The logical flow is impeccable. It’s a very high-quality museum.

It’s just so low-key. I suspect the name holds it back. But if you’ve read this far, I’m sure you’re interested. If you get the chance, go see it for yourself.

Visitor Tips: The museum is free but has no parking. You can find street parking a few blocks north, or park at the Alibaba Digital Ecology Innovation Park, a 5-10 minute walk away. This park, once Alibaba’s closed headquarters, is now an open campus for e-commerce companies. There are no walls or gates. You can park there (for a fee), and the cafeteria is open to the public (though possibly not on weekends). If you want to spend a whole day at the museum, it’s a great place to take a lunch break.

Finally, I recommend the BBC documentary Maps: Power, Plunder and Possession. Its topic is highly relevant to the second half of the museum. Watching it beforehand will make your visit even more rewarding.

80 Years of Middle East Turmoil From Israel's Founding to the Gaza War and Beyond

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Mon, 16 Jun 2025 15:19:00 +0000

I’ve never been particularly interested in war and politics.

Born in the late 80s, I grew up hearing bits and pieces about the conflicts in the Middle East from the news, but I never really dug into the background. The summer after high school, with time on my hands, I read a book on the five Arab-Israeli wars. Lacking historical context, all I remembered years later were five dates.

As an ordinary person enjoying a (very fortunate) peaceful life in East Asia, I’m more drawn to things that advance humanity, like technology. I’ve always felt that politics, while powerful, has a fleeting impact. Science, technology, and economics, however, ripple through centuries. You can’t neatly separate them, of course, but with limited energy, I chose to focus on the latter.

Recently, after hearing one too many reports about Middle East conflicts, I decided to fill this gap in my knowledge. It all started with a simple question:

When Israel and Iran—countries that don’t share a border—attack each other through the air, how do the neighboring countries whose airspace is violated react?

The short answer is they protest and condemn it, but they are either powerless to stop it or tacitly allow it because their own internal situations are far from stable. As long as the fighting doesn’t spill onto their own soil, they aren’t willing to draw a hard line.

From there, one question led to another. I started chatting with an AI, verifying what I learned, and eventually covered every major event in the Middle East since Israel’s founding. Now that I have a conceptual map of modern Middle Eastern history, I had the AI organize these study notes based on my understanding.

Of course, I don’t plan on becoming a Middle East expert; this is just a starting point. A deep dive into any one of these events would reveal countless complexities that contradict this framework. The calculus of national interests often forces countries and leaders to act against their stated positions—the complexity of history is undeniable. But for an outsider an ocean away, this framework is a useful starting point. It’s a huge leap from knowing nothing at all.

The Middle East, a strategic crossroads of continents, has been a global geopolitical flashpoint since World War II, especially after Israel’s founding in 1948. A tangled web of ethnic, religious, resource, and external power struggles has fueled constant conflict, making the path to peace exceptionally treacherous. These notes offer a chronological review of the region’s major conflicts, analyzing them from the perspectives of Israel, the United States, the Arab world, and Iran. We will also look at the dynamics during periods of relative peace, particularly the intricate relationships within the Arab world.

1. 1948 Arab-Israeli War (War of Independence)

Overview

On May 14, 1948, as the British Mandate for Palestine ended, Israel declared statehood. The next day, armies from Egypt, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, and Saudi Arabia attacked to prevent the new state’s existence and aid Palestinian Arabs, sparking the war.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: For Israel, this was its “War of Independence”—a fight for its very survival. Facing a multinational invasion, Israel mobilized its entire population. With subtle international support (notably from the U.S. and USSR), it not only defended its territory but also expanded it, securing its existence as a nation.
U.S. Perspective: As an emerging superpower in the early Cold War, the U.S. recognized Israel on its first day. The decision was driven by domestic political support and the strategic goal of backing a pro-Western democracy to counter Soviet influence. At the same time, the U.S. tried to balance its relationships with Arab oil-producing nations.
Arab World’s Perspective: This war is what the Arab world calls the “Nakba,” or the Catastrophe. Arab nations saw Israel’s creation as a violation of Palestinian Arab rights and a threat to the entire Arab nation. However, their coalition was hampered by poor coordination and internal divisions, leading to a bitter defeat. This failure fueled widespread frustration and paved the way for radical nationalism and military coups. In the aftermath, Jordan took control of the West Bank, and Egypt took the Gaza Strip.
Iran’s Perspective: At the time, Iran’s pro-Western Pahlavi dynasty was focused on internal development and its border with the Soviet Union. It had little direct involvement in the conflict and remained relatively neutral, despite general sympathy for the Palestinian cause in the Islamic world.

The Aftermath

The war ended with armistices, not peace treaties, sowing the seeds of future conflict.

Israel’s Perspective: Israel focused on consolidating its new state and territory. It began absorbing waves of Jewish immigrants while building its economy and military, bracing for future conflicts.
U.S. Perspective: While backing Israel, the U.S. also recognized the strategic importance of Arab oil producers and tried to maintain a balance. As the Cold War deepened, America bolstered pro-Western regimes to counter Soviet influence in countries like Egypt and Syria.
Arab World’s Perspective: Humiliation from the defeat spread. An influx of Palestinian refugees created a long-term humanitarian and political crisis in neighboring countries. Secular nationalist movements, like Nasserism in Egypt and the Ba’ath Party in Syria, gained traction, championing pan-Arabism and military might to confront Israel. Tensions mounted between the region’s old monarchies and its new military-nationalist regimes.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran stuck to its pro-Western foreign policy and close ties with the U.S. The Shah focused on modernization and raising Iran’s regional profile but stayed out of the direct Arab-Israeli conflict, prioritizing domestic development and stability.

2. 1956 Suez Crisis

Overview

In July 1956, Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the Suez Canal. In response, the UK and France (the canal’s main shareholders) forged a secret alliance with Israel (which saw the move as a threat to its shipping). That October, the trio attacked Egypt, occupying the Canal Zone and the Sinai Peninsula.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel’s goals were to break Egypt’s blockade of the Straits of Tiran and crush the Palestinian “Fedayeen” guerillas in Gaza. Though militarily successful, Israel was forced to withdraw under intense U.S. and Soviet pressure, revealing that its military freedom was checked by the great powers.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. opposed the invasion, fearing it would destabilize pro-Western Arab states and give the Soviet Union a foothold in the Middle East. Using its economic and political leverage, the U.S., along with the USSR, forced the invaders to back down. This signaled the shift of power in the Middle East from Britain and France to the U.S.
Arab World’s Perspective: Nasser’s nationalization was hailed as a triumph of national sovereignty. His prestige skyrocketed across the Arab world, and pan-Arab nationalism reached its zenith. Despite the military setback, Egypt won a major political victory, cementing Nasser’s regional leadership. Many Arab nations grew more suspicious of the shadow of Western colonialism.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran maintained its pro-Western stance. The crisis had little direct impact, but the rising tide of nationalism across the region was felt at home.

The Aftermath

After the crisis, UN peacekeepers were deployed to the Sinai, and Israel secured passage through the Straits of Tiran.

Israel’s Perspective: The crisis showed Israel how fragile its military victories could be, leading it to lean more heavily on its relationship with the U.S. for its security. Israel continued to build its military and seek ways to break its diplomatic isolation.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. solidified its role as the dominant Western power in the Middle East, eclipsing Britain and France. It began to intervene more directly, using aid and alliances (like the Baghdad Pact) to cement its influence and counter growing Soviet influence in “progressive” Arab states like Egypt and Syria.
Arab World’s Perspective: Nasser’s pan-Arabism grew, and he courted Syria and Iraq to form a unified Arab federation. This worried conservative monarchies like Saudi Arabia, who preferred cooperation with the West, widening the rift within the Arab world. The Palestinian liberation movement began to chart a new course.
Iran’s Perspective: Under the Shah, Iran became a key pillar of U.S. strategy in the region. Using its oil revenues, Iran strengthened its military and sought to play a larger regional role to counterbalance Arab nationalism.

3. 1967 Six-Day War

Overview

In May 1967, Egypt ordered UN peacekeepers out of the Sinai and again blockaded the Straits of Tiran, escalating regional tensions. On June 5, Israel launched a preemptive strike on Egypt, Syria, and Jordan, destroying their air forces in hours. In a stunning six-day victory, Israel captured the Sinai Peninsula, the Gaza Strip, the West Bank (including East Jerusalem), and the Golan Heights.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel framed this as a war of self-defense. Facing mounting military threats and a crippling blockade, it struck first. The victory gave Israel crucial strategic depth and boosted its international standing, but it also created the long-term challenge of governing large occupied territories and a hostile Palestinian population.
U.S. Perspective: While urging restraint before the war, the U.S. quickly backed Israel afterward. With the Cold War in full swing, the U.S. saw Israel as a vital check on Soviet expansion (the USSR was arming Egypt and Syria). U.S. policy tilted heavily toward Israel, though it still promoted peace to maintain stability. The UN Security Council passed Resolution 242, establishing the “land for peace” principle.
Arab World’s Perspective: The Six-Day War was a humiliating defeat. The loss of strategic territory shattered the credibility of pan-Arab nationalism and damaged Nasser’s leadership. Resistance groups like the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) grew, arguing that Palestinians had to rely on their own strength, not on Arab states. Divisions in the Arab world deepened as some nations soured on direct confrontation with Israel.
Iran’s Perspective: The war reinforced Iran’s pro-Western stance. The Shah saw Israel as a potential partner to balance radical Arab nationalism. Iran’s economy benefited from surging oil revenues, which the Shah used to build a powerful military and establish Iran as a regional power.

The Aftermath

The Six-Day War redrew the map of the Middle East. Israel’s control over the occupied territories became the crux of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Israel’s Perspective: Israel solidified its control over the new territories and began building Jewish settlements in the West Bank, Gaza, and the Golan Heights—a policy that would become a major obstacle to peace. Israel’s confidence, backed by military might, soared, but it also faced growing international condemnation for the occupation.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. became a more active mediator, sponsoring UN Resolution 242 and its “land for peace” formula, which would anchor future peace talks. America walked a fine line, providing military aid to Israel while trying to manage anti-U.S. sentiment in the Arab world to protect oil supplies.
Arab World’s Perspective: The dream of pan-Arabism lay in tatters. The PLO grew into the primary representative of the Palestinian people, setting up bases in Jordan and Lebanon. This led to conflicts with host governments, like Jordan’s “Black September” in 1970, when the king expelled PLO fighters. Arab states grew more divided on how to confront Israel and deal with the PLO.
Iran’s Perspective: As a key U.S. ally in the Gulf, Iran cemented its regional influence. The Shah used oil wealth to fund an ambitious military and modernization program. However, its pro-Western and quiet pro-Israel policies created distance with more radical Arab states.

4. 1973 Yom Kippur War

Overview

On October 6, 1973—Yom Kippur, the holiest day in Judaism—Egypt and Syria launched a surprise attack to reclaim territory lost in 1967. They made initial gains, but Israel, resupplied by a massive U.S. airlift, stabilized the fronts and counter-attacked. The war ended in a tense ceasefire.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Caught off guard by intelligence failures, Israel suffered heavy initial losses. The war shattered the nation’s myth of invincibility. However, with U.S. aid, its military proved resilient. The close call prompted a strategic shift, leading Israel to seek a peace agreement with Egypt.
U.S. Perspective: The war was a major Cold War proxy battle. The U.S. launched “Operation Nickel Grass,” a huge airlift of military hardware, to save Israel and protect its own strategic interests. Afterward, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger’s “shuttle diplomacy” brokered a peace process between Egypt and Israel, sidelining the Soviets and stabilizing oil supplies. A retaliatory Arab oil embargo also forced the U.S. to prioritize its relationships with oil-producing nations.
Arab World’s Perspective: Though they didn’t reclaim all their territory, the early military successes restored a sense of dignity, erasing the shame of 1967. Egyptian President Anwar Sadat scored a major political victory, paving the way for peace talks. The oil embargo revealed the Arab world’s economic leverage. However, Egypt’s decision to pursue a separate peace with Israel led to years of isolation from other Arab states.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran remained neutral, but as a major oil exporter, it reaped massive profits from the ensuing oil crisis. This windfall further fueled the Shah’s military buildup and modernization drive, cementing Iran’s role, alongside Saudi Arabia, in America’s “Twin Pillar” strategy for the region.

The Aftermath

The Yom Kippur War led to a breakthrough in the Middle East peace process.

Israel’s Perspective: Israel signed a peace treaty with Egypt, its most powerful Arab adversary. This was a landmark diplomatic achievement that secured its western border. However, Israel held onto the West Bank and Golan Heights, leaving the Palestinian question unresolved.
U.S. Perspective: Kissinger’s diplomacy cemented America’s role as the indispensable mediator in the Middle East, shutting out the Soviets. The U.S. became the primary sponsor of the peace process and strengthened ties with Egypt and Saudi Arabia to protect oil supplies and promote stability.
Arab World’s Perspective: Egypt’s peace treaty with Israel got it expelled from the Arab League, marking the first major split in the Arab world’s stance on Israel. Hardline states like Syria and Libya rejected peace, while others grew open to negotiations. The PLO, feeling sidelined, began seeking its own political path.
Iran’s Perspective: The oil boom allowed the Shah to accelerate his ambitious military and modernization programs. Iran became a formidable regional power, but its secular, pro-Western policies fueled growing discontent among the country’s religious conservatives, setting the stage for the Islamic Revolution.

5. 1979 Iranian Islamic Revolution

Overview

In 1979, the Islamic Revolution, led by Ayatollah Khomeini, toppled Iran’s pro-Western monarchy and established the Islamic Republic. The event fundamentally reshaped Iran’s identity and policies, sending shockwaves across the Middle East and the world.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: A quiet regional partner transformed overnight into a hostile Islamic regime, creating a new and profound strategic threat. The Islamic Republic branded Israel the “Little Satan” and vowed its destruction, making Iran a primary security obsession for Israel.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. lost its most crucial ally in the Middle East, a devastating blow to its regional strategy. The subsequent hostage crisis humiliated America on the world stage. From then on, the U.S. treated Iran’s regime as a “rogue state,” targeting it with sanctions and a policy of containment.
Arab World’s Perspective: The revolution received a mixed reception in the Sunni-dominated Arab world. Some people were inspired by the overthrow of a secular monarch, but most rulers, especially in Saudi Arabia and the Gulf, were terrified. They feared Iran’s Shiite character and its vow to “export the revolution” would incite their own populations. The revolution dramatically intensified the Sunni-Shiite sectarian divide.
Iran’s Perspective: The revolution turned Iran from a pro-Western nation into an anti-Western, anti-Israel Islamic state, fiercely independent and committed to “exporting its revolution.” Iran began to position itself as the leader of the Islamic world, challenging U.S. and Israeli power by supporting resistance groups across the region, especially in Lebanon and Palestine.

The Aftermath

The Iranian Revolution radically altered the Middle East’s balance of power.

Israel’s Perspective: Having lost Iran as a strategic buffer, Israel came to see the new regime as a long-term, ideological enemy. This view hardened as Iran began arming Hezbollah in Lebanon and Palestinian militant groups. Israel’s focus shifted to Iran’s nuclear program, which it viewed as an existential threat.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. hit Iran with heavy sanctions and began courting new allies, like Saudi Arabia, to contain Iranian influence. It also boosted its military presence in the region to counter the threat from Tehran.
Arab World’s Perspective: Most Sunni Arab states, particularly the Gulf monarchies, grew deeply wary of Iran’s revolutionary Shiite government. This fear pushed them into a closer military and political embrace with the United States. The revolution sharpened the sectarian divide between Sunnis and Shiites across the region.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran committed itself to spreading its revolutionary ideals. By backing non-state actors like Hezbollah and Palestinian Islamic Jihad, it built a network of influence to wage a long-term struggle against the U.S. and Israel. Iran also began developing a ballistic missile program.

6. 1980-1988 Iran-Iraq War

Overview

In September 1980, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein, hoping to take advantage of post-revolution chaos in Iran, invaded. The brutal war that followed lasted eight years, killed over a million people, and shattered both economies.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel was happy to see two of its main adversaries bleed each other dry. Though Iraq was a sworn enemy, Israel saw Iran’s new Islamic regime as the greater long-term threat. It adopted a complex and covert strategy to ensure the war dragged on, famously facilitating U.S. arms sales to Iran in the “Iran-Contra Affair.” The goal was to prevent either side from winning decisively, thereby weakening both.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. was officially neutral but, fearing the spread of Iran’s revolution, gradually tilted toward Iraq, providing it with intelligence and economic support. The primary U.S. goal was to prevent an Iranian victory.
Arab World’s Perspective: Most Gulf Arab states, especially Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, were terrified of Iran’s revolution and backed Iraq with billions in aid. A few, like Syria and Libya, sided with Iran, exposing deep fissures in the Arab world. The war turned Iraq’s army into a regional powerhouse.
Iran’s Perspective: For Iran, the war was a “Sacred Defense” that united the country and consolidated the revolution. The Iranian people showed incredible resilience but paid a terrible price. The war solidified the regime’s power and anti-Western ideology but deepened its rift with most of the Arab world and the U.S.

The Aftermath

The war left Iraq with a powerful army and massive debt, while Iran focused on reconstruction and cementing its revolutionary ideals.

Israel’s Perspective: The immediate military threat from Iran was gone, but the growth of Iraq’s army and its support for Palestinian militants kept Israel on high alert. Israel also remained wary of Iran’s deepening ties with Hezbollah in Lebanon.
U.S. Perspective: The war boosted U.S. influence, positioning it as a key broker between Iran and Iraq. However, its support for Saddam Hussein’s regime would have fateful consequences.
Arab World’s Perspective: The war weakened both countries but left Iraq as a military giant, which unsettled its Gulf neighbors. The Arab world remained divided on how to handle post-war Iraq and counter Iran’s influence.
Iran’s Perspective: The war hardened the regime’s anti-American and anti-Israel ideology. Iran began rebuilding its military and expanding its regional influence through non-state actors. Relations with most Arab countries remained tense.

7. 1982 Lebanon War

Overview

In June 1982, Israel invaded Lebanon, using an assassination attempt on its ambassador to the UK as a pretext. The stated goals were to destroy the PLO’s military infrastructure in southern Lebanon and support a friendly Maronite Christian government. The invasion led to the siege of Beirut, the PLO’s expulsion from the country, and a years-long Israeli occupation of southern Lebanon.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel aimed to end the PLO threat from Lebanon and install a friendly government. It succeeded in driving out the PLO but soon found itself bogged down in Lebanon’s brutal civil war. The long occupation faced fierce resistance, sparked intense controversy at home, and ended with a unilateral Israeli withdrawal in 2000.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. initially supported Israel’s right to self-defense but grew alarmed at the scale of the invasion. It sent Marines as part of a multinational peacekeeping force to oversee the PLO’s evacuation. However, American involvement ended in tragedy with the bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut. The U.S. sought stability but failed to create a pro-American government.
Arab World’s Perspective: The Lebanon War exposed the Arab world’s impotence once again. Many nations condemned the invasion but failed to act. The PLO’s expulsion further weakened Arab support for the Palestinian cause. The war also allowed Syria to deepen its influence in Lebanon and fueled the rise of the country’s Shiite community.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran saw the war as a golden opportunity. With Syria’s help, it sent Revolutionary Guard trainers to Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley. They helped organize local Shiite militias resisting the Israeli occupation, a process that gave birth to Hezbollah. Hezbollah became Iran’s most successful proxy, a powerful anti-Israel vanguard that dramatically extended Iran’s reach.

The Aftermath

The war left Lebanon in a vortex of civil war and foreign intervention.

Israel’s Perspective: The PLO was gone, but Israel was stuck in the Lebanese quagmire, fighting a long and costly guerrilla war against Hezbollah. The experience profoundly changed Israeli society and politics, prompting a deep rethink of its military intervention policies. Israel finally withdrew from southern Lebanon in 2000.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. played a difficult role. Its military intervention failed to stop the fighting and led to American casualties, making Washington more cautious about future entanglements in the Middle East.
Arab World’s Perspective: The focus of the Palestinian struggle began to shift from the PLO to the new Shiite resistance in southern Lebanon. Arab states continued to offer rhetorical support but took little action. Syria’s influence in Lebanon grew stronger.
Iran’s Perspective: This was a major success for Iran’s strategy of exporting its revolution and building a proxy network. The rise of Hezbollah gave Iran a powerful ally on Israel’s border, a cornerstone of its regional strategy. Iran’s influence, channeled through non-state actors, began to grow.

8. 1990-1991 Gulf War

Overview

In August 1990, Iraq invaded and annexed Kuwait. The UN demanded a withdrawal, and when Iraq refused, a U.S.-led international coalition launched Operation Desert Storm in January 1991, decisively ejecting the Iraqi army from Kuwait.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Though Iraq fired Scud missiles at its cities, Israel—at Washington’s urgent request—did not retaliate. This was to avoid fracturing the U.S.-led coalition, which crucially included several Arab states. The episode underscored the strength of the U.S.-Israel alliance and Israel’s strategic calculations.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. saw the invasion as a direct threat to its interests and the global oil supply. It assembled a vast coalition to uphold international law and restore regional stability. The war was a display of American military and diplomatic power in the new, post-Cold War world.
Arab World’s Perspective: The invasion shattered Arab unity. Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Syria joined the U.S.-led coalition against Iraq. But Jordan, Yemen, and the PLO sided with Saddam, exposing deep divisions. The war left a massive U.S. military footprint in the region, particularly in Saudi Arabia, which angered Islamic radicals.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran remained officially neutral but was privately pleased to see its rival, Saddam Hussein, weakened. Iraq’s defeat and the subsequent UN sanctions greatly reduced the strategic pressure on Iran.

The Aftermath

After the war, Iraq was crippled by years of sanctions and weapons inspections. The U.S. military presence in the Middle East, especially in the Gulf, expanded dramatically.

Israel’s Perspective: With Iraq neutralized, a major threat was removed. The post-war political climate helped accelerate the peace process with the Palestinians, leading to the Oslo Accords and mutual recognition between Israel and the PLO.
U.S. Perspective: U.S. influence in the Middle East reached an all-time high. It sponsored a new round of peace talks, trying to use its post-war leverage to solve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. However, the long-term stationing of U.S. troops on Saudi soil planted the seeds for future anti-American terrorism.
Arab World’s Perspective: The war deepened the rift between pro-Western conservative states and pan-Arab nationalists. Some governments forged closer ties with the U.S., but Iraq’s defeat and the enduring U.S. military presence fueled popular resentment and provided fertile ground for Islamic extremism.
Iran’s Perspective: With Iraq weakened, Iran’s international isolation began to ease, allowing it to assert more influence in the Persian Gulf. It continued to build up its military and deepen ties with proxies like Hezbollah, preparing for the next phase of its regional strategy.

9. Second Palestinian Intifada (Al-Aqsa Intifada, 2000-2005)

Overview

In 2000, a provocative visit by Israeli opposition leader Ariel Sharon to the Temple Mount/Haram al-Sharif in Jerusalem ignited Palestinian fury, sparking a new uprising. The Second Intifada was far deadlier than the first, defined by a brutal cycle of Palestinian suicide bombings and massive Israeli military crackdowns.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel saw the intifada as a wave of terrorism threatening its citizens. It responded with overwhelming force, launching large-scale incursions into Palestinian cities and building a controversial separation barrier. The violence shattered the Israeli public’s faith in the peace process.
U.S. Perspective: The intifada coincided with the 9/11 attacks, which shifted America’s focus to a global war on terror. While the U.S. made attempts to mediate, its priority was now counter-terrorism, not Israeli-Palestinian peacemaking. The peace process ground to a halt.
Arab World’s Perspective: Arab nations sympathized with the Palestinians and condemned Israel’s actions, but their response was muted. Preoccupied with domestic issues and their own role in the war on terror, their ability to intervene was limited. Disappointment with the Palestinian Authority’s leadership grew, while support for armed groups like Hamas increased.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran staunchly backed the Palestinian resistance, especially Hamas and Islamic Jihad. It saw the struggle as a key front in its fight against U.S. and Israeli power. Through funding and weapons, Iran significantly boosted its influence over the Palestinian cause.

The Aftermath

The Second Intifada left Israeli-Palestinian relations in ruins and the peace process dead.

Israel’s Perspective: The violence destroyed any remaining illusions about the Oslo process, leading Israel to adopt a security-first approach. It built the separation barrier and, in 2005, unilaterally withdrew its settlers and troops from Gaza, only to impose a tight blockade on the territory.
U.S. Perspective: After 9/11, the U.S. strategic focus was entirely on the war on terror. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict was relegated to a lower priority. The U.S. paid lip service to a “two-state solution,” but with little real pressure or investment, the process stagnated.
Arab World’s Perspective: The Palestinian issue began to fade as a priority for many Arab governments, who were more concerned with domestic stability and the threat of extremism. A bitter power struggle erupted between the Palestinian factions, Fatah and Hamas, leading to Hamas’s takeover of Gaza in 2007 and a geographic and political split of the Palestinian leadership.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran exploited the Palestinian divisions, strengthening its support for Hamas and other militant groups. This enhanced its role as a power broker on the Palestinian stage and allowed it to pose a more direct threat to Israel.

10. 2001 War in Afghanistan

Overview

After the 9/11 attacks, the U.S. and its allies invaded Afghanistan. The goal was to overthrow the Taliban regime, which had sheltered Al-Qaeda, and dismantle the terrorist network.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: As a key U.S. ally, Israel fully supported the war on terror, seeing it as part of the same fight against the extremist groups that targeted it.
U.S. Perspective: The 9/11 attacks were a national trauma that put counter-terrorism at the center of U.S. foreign policy. The invasion of Afghanistan kicked off the “Global War on Terror,” a long and costly campaign that would dramatically reshape U.S. priorities in the Middle East.
Arab World’s Perspective: Most Arab governments officially backed the U.S. campaign, but public opinion was divided, torn between condemning terrorism and fearing American military intervention. The Saudi government, embarrassed by Al-Qaeda’s origins, scrambled to distance itself from extremism.
Iran’s Perspective: As a long-time enemy of the Taliban, Iran initially welcomed the U.S. invasion and even provided some covert assistance. But as the U.S. military footprint in the region grew, Tehran grew wary, fearing it might be next on Washington’s list.

The Aftermath

The war quickly toppled the Taliban, but the U.S. and its allies soon found themselves mired in a long and difficult counter-insurgency campaign.

Israel’s Perspective: The war had little direct impact on Israel, though it worried that America’s focus on counter-terrorism might divert attention from the growing threat of Iran’s nuclear program.
U.S. Perspective: The Afghanistan war was the first chapter in the war on terror. It set the stage for a dramatic shift in U.S. military deployments and strategic thinking, leading directly to the 2003 invasion of Iraq and a new focus on combating non-state actors.
Arab World’s Perspective: The war amplified fears of extremism across the Arab world but also deepened mistrust of U.S. military intervention. Some regimes ramped up their counter-terrorism cooperation with the U.S., while others struggled to contain the spread of radical ideas at home.
Iran’s Perspective: The fall of the Taliban was an initial win for Iran, but the growing U.S. military presence on its borders made Tehran feel encircled. It responded by accelerating its own defense and nuclear programs.

11. 2003 Iraq War (Second Gulf War)

Overview

In March 2003, a U.S.-led coalition invaded Iraq, bypassing the UN Security Council. The stated justification was that Saddam Hussein’s regime possessed weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) and supported terrorism. The regime was quickly toppled, but no WMDs were found, and Iraq plunged into years of sectarian bloodshed and chaos.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel strongly supported the overthrow of Saddam Hussein, seeing him as a dangerous enemy who threatened it with WMDs and sponsored Palestinian militants. The war removed a major threat, but the ensuing chaos in Iraq and the rise of Iranian influence created new and complex challenges.
U.S. Perspective: The Bush administration saw the invasion as a key front in the war on terror, aiming to remove a hostile regime and spread democracy. The reality was a costly occupation, a bloody civil war, the birth of new and even more virulent extremist groups (like ISIS), and a severe blow to American power and prestige.
Arab World’s Perspective: The war was deeply divisive. Few mourned Saddam’s regime, but the unauthorized invasion and occupation of a major Arab state by a Western power ignited widespread anti-American rage. The war unleashed a wave of sectarian violence between Sunnis and Shiites that destabilized the entire region. Some Arab governments feared a U.S. campaign to forcibly remake the region, while others quietly worried that the war would empower Iran.
Iran’s Perspective: For Iran, the war was a “strategic gift.” The U.S. had eliminated its mortal enemy, Saddam Hussein, relieving immense military pressure. Iran moved quickly to fill the power vacuum, using its deep ties to Iraq’s long-oppressed Shiite majority to build political influence and sponsor powerful militias. The war gave Iran unprecedented strategic depth and a dominant role in Iraq.

The Aftermath

The war shattered Iraq’s state and society, unleashing a brutal sectarian civil war and creating the conditions for the rise of the Islamic State (ISIS).

Israel’s Perspective: The conventional threat from Iraq was gone, but Israel became increasingly alarmed by Iran’s growing influence in Iraq and neighboring Syria. It saw this as a new and dangerous strategic threat, and began conducting regular airstrikes in Syria to degrade Iran’s military presence and stop weapons transfers to Hezbollah.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. found itself trapped in a costly and demoralizing nation-building quagmire. The war failed to create a stable democracy, instead fueling regional instability and ISIS. The drain on U.S. resources and credibility accelerated a strategic re-evaluation, leading to the “pivot to Asia.”
Arab World’s Perspective: The war tore the Arab world further apart. Sunni-Shiite tensions exploded, fueling a series of proxy wars between Saudi Arabia and Iran in places like Syria and Yemen. Many Arab states watched with alarm as Iraq disintegrated and Iran’s influence grew.
Iran’s Perspective: The war was a strategic windfall. By backing pro-Iranian political forces and militias in Iraq, Iran successfully built a “Shiite Crescent”—a land bridge of influence stretching from Tehran to Beirut. This dramatically expanded its regional power and put it in a stronger position to challenge its adversaries.

12. 2010 “Arab Spring”

Overview

In late 2010, a popular uprising in Tunisia sparked a chain reaction of protests, revolts, and civil wars across the Arab world. The “Arab Spring” toppled long-standing dictators in Egypt, Libya, and Yemen and plunged Syria into a brutal civil war.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel watched the “Arab Spring” with deep apprehension. The instability on its borders was a major threat. It feared that collapsing regimes in Egypt and Syria could be replaced by radical Islamists or create lawless vacuums for terrorist groups.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. initially supported the protestors’ calls for democracy but grew more cautious as the region descended into chaos. Its policy shifted toward prioritizing stability over democratic reform. America’s influence was challenged, and it began to reduce its regional footprint and “pivot to Asia.”
Arab World’s Perspective: The “Arab Spring” tore the region apart. Tunisia managed a fragile transition to democracy, but Libya, Yemen, and Syria collapsed into devastating civil wars. Monarchies like Saudi Arabia and Bahrain brutally crushed their own protests. The upheaval intensified sectarian conflicts, proxy wars between regional powers (Saudi Arabia, Qatar, the UAE), and the fragmentation of the Arab world.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran initially celebrated the uprisings as an “Islamic Awakening,” hoping to ride the wave of popular discontent. It threw its support behind its ally, Bashar al-Assad in Syria, and strengthened its ties with the Houthis in Yemen and militias in Iraq, using the regional chaos to expand its own influence.

The Aftermath

The “Arab Spring” left a legacy of failed states, brutal civil wars, and humanitarian disasters. The chaos fueled the rise of extremist groups like ISIS and created massive refugee crises.

Israel’s Perspective: Facing a more volatile neighborhood, Israel became more pragmatic. In Syria, it focused on preventing Iran from establishing a permanent military base and arming Hezbollah. The shared threat of Iran also led to quiet but growing cooperation between Israel and several Gulf states.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. learned a hard lesson about the costs and complexities of promoting democracy in the Middle East. Its focus shifted back to counter-terrorism and stability. The Obama administration’s “Pivot to Asia” signaled a broader U.S. strategic retreat from the region, pushing allies to take on more responsibility for their own security.
Arab World’s Perspective: The Arab Spring left the region more divided than ever. The Sunni-Shiite sectarian rivalry played out in brutal proxy wars in Syria and Yemen. Led by Saudi Arabia and the UAE, a new bloc of assertive monarchies emerged, intervening in regional conflicts to counter Iranian influence. Traditional pan-Arab nationalism faded, replaced by more sectarian and tribal identities.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran skillfully exploited the regional chaos to deepen its influence in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen. Its intervention in Syria was decisive in saving the Assad regime, securing its crucial “Shiite Crescent.” The regional rivalry between Iran and Saudi Arabia intensified, reaching new heights of hostility.

13. The Rise of ISIS and Regional Conflicts (Syria, Yemen, Libya)

Overview

From the wreckage of the Iraq War and the Syrian Civil War, the “Islamic State” (ISIS) emerged. The extremist group seized vast territories, proclaimed a “caliphate,” and unleashed a campaign of horrific terrorism. This prompted a global military campaign to defeat it and fueled complex, multi-sided civil wars in Syria, Yemen, and Libya.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel viewed ISIS as a threat but was far more concerned with the growing power of Iran-backed forces, like Hezbollah and Shiite militias, in the Syrian civil war. It conducted frequent airstrikes in Syria to counter Iran’s military presence.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. identified ISIS as a major global threat and assembled an international coalition to destroy it. At the same time, it struggled to navigate the Syrian civil war, supporting moderate rebels while trying to contain Iranian expansion.
Arab World’s Perspective: ISIS was a direct threat to every Arab state. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Egypt joined the military campaign against it. However, the civil wars in Syria, Yemen, and Libya also became battlegrounds for the proxy war between Saudi Arabia and Iran, further deepening regional divisions. The Saudi-led intervention in Yemen against the Iran-backed Houthis is a prime example.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran moved aggressively to combat ISIS in Iraq and Syria, supporting local governments and Shiite militias. This intervention was crucial in defeating ISIS on the ground, but it also allowed Iran to cement its influence along the “Shiite Crescent.” Iran continued to see the U.S. military presence as the main threat and used its proxy network to counter American and Israeli power.

The Aftermath

Though the ISIS “caliphate” was destroyed, its ideology endures. The civil wars in Syria, Yemen, and Libya grind on, causing immense human suffering.

Israel’s Perspective: While contributing to the anti-ISIS fight, Israel’s primary focus remained on containing Iran’s military expansion, especially in Syria. The shared threat of Iran accelerated a historic realignment, bringing Israel and several Sunni Gulf states, like the UAE, closer together, culminating in the Abraham Accords.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. led the military campaign that crushed ISIS but also continued its strategic withdrawal from the Middle East, relying more on regional partners and a “light footprint” approach. The goal was to shift resources toward great-power competition with China and Russia.
Arab World’s Perspective: The fight against ISIS reshuffled regional alliances. An assertive new bloc, led by Saudi Arabia and the UAE, emerged. They adopted more aggressive foreign policies, normalized relations with Israel to counter Iran, and sought foreign investment. This, however, further eroded the traditional Arab consensus on the Palestinian issue.
Iran’s Perspective: Through its deep involvement in the region’s wars, Iran built a powerful “Axis of Resistance.” It greatly enhanced its strategic influence in Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, and Yemen. The “shadow war” between Iran and Israel escalated, playing out through cyberattacks, assassinations, and proxy skirmishes, becoming one of the region’s most dangerous flashpoints.

14. Ongoing Israeli-Palestinian Conflict and the Gaza War (to the present)

Overview

Since the Second Intifada, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has festered. The peace process is nonexistent, Israeli settlements on the West Bank have expanded, and the Gaza Strip has endured a crippling blockade, punctuated by periodic, brutal wars between Israel and the ruling Hamas militant group. On October 7, 2023, Hamas launched a devastating attack on Israel, triggering a massive Israeli invasion of Gaza and a new, catastrophic chapter in the conflict.

Perspectives

Israel’s Perspective: Israel considers Hamas a terrorist organization and frames its military actions in Gaza as self-defense, aimed at destroying the group’s military capabilities and protecting its citizens. It continues to maintain tight security control over the West Bank and support settlement growth as a strategic imperative.
U.S. Perspective: The U.S. remains a staunch supporter of Israel’s security but has also called for the protection of Palestinian civilians and nominally supports a “two-state solution.” However, its leverage is limited, and its strategic focus has shifted toward great-power competition and away from active Mideast peacemaking.
Arab World’s Perspective: Despite the Abraham Accords, which saw countries like the UAE and Bahrain normalize ties with Israel, the Palestinian cause remains a powerful issue on the “Arab street.” The war in Gaza has sparked widespread popular outrage, forcing Arab governments to walk a tightrope between condemning Israel and protecting their own national interests and newfound alliances.
Iran’s Perspective: Iran is a key patron of Hamas and Islamic Jihad, and its support for the Palestinian “resistance” is a central pillar of its anti-U.S., anti-Israel foreign policy. Through its network of proxies in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen, Iran poses a multi-front threat to Israel and plays a pivotal role in regional conflicts.

The Aftermath

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is in a downward spiral, with peace looking more distant than ever. The expansion of Israeli settlements continues, and the humanitarian crisis in Gaza has reached catastrophic levels.

Israel’s Perspective: Despite the new ties with some Arab states, the Palestinian issue remains Israel’s most intractable challenge. Israel is focused on maintaining its military edge against threats like Hamas and Hezbollah while weathering a storm of international criticism over its occupation and the war in Gaza.
U.S. Perspective: America’s strategic retreat from the region has weakened its ability to mediate. It continues to endorse a two-state solution, but with little real action. Washington is more focused on managing its Gulf alliances to counter the regional challenge from Iran.
Arab World’s Perspective: The Arab world is no longer united on Palestine. For some governments, shared economic interests and a common fear of Iran have made partnership with Israel a strategic priority. This was the driving force behind the Abraham Accords. Yet the Palestinian cause remains a deeply emotional issue for the public, and the war in Gaza can still ignite mass protests.
Iran’s Perspective: The “shadow war” between Iran and Israel is escalating across the region, fought with cyberattacks, assassinations, proxy strikes, and missile threats. Iran continues to strengthen its “Axis of Resistance,” using the Palestinian cause as a rallying cry in its quest for regional leadership and its long struggle against the U.S. and Israel.

Summary

A look back at the Middle East since 1948 reveals an epic of turmoil, confrontation, and relentless change.

Israel: From a desperate fight for survival to a regional military superpower, its security has always been the driving concern. Yet it remains burdened by the unending Palestinian conflict and regional isolation.
United States: From Cold War containment to the War on Terror and now to great-power competition, the U.S. has been the region’s most powerful external actor, its policies constantly shifting between securing oil, backing allies, and promoting stability.
The Arab World: After the dream of pan-Arabism rose and fell, it never managed to form a united front against Israel or external intervention. It remains fractured by sectarian divides, rivalries between monarchies and republics, and the competing interests of its leaders, making internal splits and proxy wars the norm.
Iran: From a pro-Western monarchy to a revolutionary anti-Western republic, Iran’s transformation has upended the region’s geopolitics. Through its proxy network, nuclear program, and challenge to American power, Iran has become a formidable force, locked in a cold war with Saudi Arabia, Israel, and the U.S.

Every conflict in the Middle East is more than a military clash; it’s a complex brew of politics, economics, and religion. Eras of war and peace bleed into one another. Old problems remain unsolved as new ones emerge. The struggle for oil, great-power meddling, nationalism, extremism, and the unresolved Palestinian question have all shaped the turbulent and challenging Middle East of today.

Postscript

Before you know the history, you might wonder why Israel would fight so many countries at once. Weren’t there less risky options? Even with a stronger military, isn’t it better to avoid a multi-front war?

This is a common misconception for people who live in stable, unified countries. In most of these conflicts, Israel wasn’t fighting whole nations, but specific factions within internally fractured states. To understand the Middle East, you can’t see its countries as monolithic blocs; they are deeply divided, with competing factions and agendas.

The Arab world itself is a web of contradictions: old grudges between regimes, the Sunni-Shiite schism, the clash between monarchies and nationalist movements. The creation of Israel, combined with superpower meddling, threw all these volatile elements into a blender. Some conflicts were aimed at Israel, but many others were between Middle Eastern states themselves or within them.

As these notes show, the focus of conflict within the Arab world has constantly shifted over the past 80 years, becoming too complex to easily summarize. Arch-enemies can find common ground, and the enemy of your enemy is not always your friend—this is the nature of politics. The shifting attitudes of some Arab states toward Israel show that for any government, a hostile nation-state is not the only threat, and often not even the biggest one. A nation’s goals are never singular; they are incredibly complex.

History, moreover, is rarely controlled by a single actor. Even a power as formidable as the United States has failed to maintain a consistent strategy in the Middle East. Unforeseen events have constantly forced it to shift priorities, and its immense investment of blood and treasure has not always produced the desired results.

So, why did I compile such a long set of notes?

Just one reason: to learn. To understand a little more, and to have something to look back on when I forget.

I have no value judgments about this history; I don’t have them for any history. There are only details—more details, and endless details. When you piece enough of them together, you get a story about what you want, what I want, and how we all fight to get it.

5-Day Self-Driving Tour in Dunhuang

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Wed, 14 Apr 2021 20:57:03 +0000

Spring had just arrived in Dunhuang in early April, a couple of months before peak season. Despite the Qingming Festival holiday, it wasn’t crowded. Some sights, like desert plants or the Populus euphratica forest, weren’t yet in bloom.

Day 1: Departure and Dunhuang Museum

We flew from Hangzhou, connecting in Lanzhou before heading to Dunhuang. The landscape changed dramatically as we approached – a stark contrast to the south.

Dense, snow-capped mountains appeared below the clouds – the Qilian Mountains. Lower down, melted snow revealed dark rock. The terrain flattened into a dark brown Gobi desert, the boundary between the two strikingly clear. Further on, wind and temperature shaped the land into vast yellow sands. Finally, Dunhuang, a desert city, emerged through the clouds. The whole scene felt like an amazing 4D movie or game cutscene.

I’d hoped to avoid sandstorms, but the airport wind was fierce. The kind that makes you chase your hat, only to get a mouthful of sand.

One gust, a mouthful of sand, and you’re ready for adventure?

Luckily, we’d rented a car. We picked it up and went straight to the hotel. After dropping our bags, we visited the Dunhuang Museum. (Museum = geography and history lesson. Skip ahead for pictures if you prefer.)

Geography

Dunhuang, a county-level city under Jiuquan, is Gansu’s westernmost city. It’s closer to Hami in Xinjiang than Jiuquan, acting as a key passage to Xinjiang.

Dunhuang is inseparable from the Hexi Corridor. It forms a line with Jiuquan, Zhangye, Jinchang, and Wuwei to its east, connected by a single highway. Gansu’s map looks like a bone: the larger southeastern part is Gannan (centered on Lanzhou), while the middle and northwest are roughly the Hexi Corridor.

The Hexi Corridor’s geography is unique – a narrow passage with obstacles on either side. The Qilian Mountains lie to the south, with the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau beyond. The desert of western Inner Mongolia is to the northeast. Mountains from the Tianshan range are to the north. The corridor connects to Gannan and central China in the southeast, and to Xinjiang (the ancient Western Regions) in the other direction.

The Hexi Corridor is the Silk Road’s throat; Dunhuang is its gateway.

History

Most Chinese dynastic conflicts were within the Great Wall. It separated northern nomads, while the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau isolated plateau peoples and Central Asian civilizations. The Shu region blocked South Asian forces. Imagine ancient Han Chinese territory as a water bag with one opening: facing northwest, towards Dunhuang. This location gave Dunhuang an extraordinary historical role.

Civilization thrives on exchange, not just resources. Contact with the Western Regions began in the Western Han Dynasty. Zhang Qian’s mission, despite two captures by the Xiongnu, established relations and connected the Silk Road. The Han Dynasty controlled the Hexi Corridor, with Dunhuang at the forefront of cultural exchange. At its peak, the Protectorate of the Western Regions directly administered the area. The Han Great Wall and Yumenguan’s beacon towers witnessed this.

Silk Road trade wasn’t just China and the Western Regions. Cleopatra VII loved silk, as records and artworks show. Eastern goods spread throughout the civilized world.

During Wang Mang’s reforms, the Western Regions rejected his regime, cutting ties with the East. The short-lived Xin Dynasty fell, and the Eastern Han regained control.

After the Eastern Han, history focuses on the Three Kingdoms, overlooking the Wei Kingdom’s control of the Hexi Corridor and the open Silk Road. It remained generally open through the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties, despite harassment from the Xiongnu, Xianbei, Rouran, and Turks.

The Sui and Tang Dynasties were the Silk Road’s golden age. Exchanges peaked. Jingjiao (Nestorianism), seen in “The Longest Day in Chang’an,” was introduced to China. The Tibetan Empire, a unified dynasty, arose. They invaded the Hexi Corridor and Western Regions, cutting off the Silk Road. Tang-Tibetan wars lasted nearly 200 years, with the corridor repeatedly lost and regained. Princess Wencheng’s marriage was to appease the defeated Songtsen Gampo. The Tibetan Empire, at its strongest, even captured Chang’an and attacked the southwest, allied with the Nanzhao Kingdom. It eventually collapsed from internal divisions. Zhang Yichao, from Shazhou (Dunhuang), led an uprising, captured the Hexi Corridor, and surrendered to the Tang, reconnecting the Silk Road.

After the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, the Song Dynasty was too preoccupied with the Liao, Jin, and Western Xia to regain control.

The Yuan Dynasty was brief but unified central China, the Western Regions, and the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau for the first time, solving the Han dynasties’ foreign affairs issues. Unity is key to stability. Even after Genghis Khan, with the Mongol Empire split, civilian exchanges continued. This vast empire was a highway for East-West exchange. Silk Road exchanges continued for over a century under the Yuan. Marco Polo witnessed China’s prosperity during this time.

The Ming and Qing Dynasties were relatively closed, and with rising maritime trade, the overland Silk Road declined. The Qing rebuilt Shazhou City, upgrading Dunhuang, but had little interest in opening it for trade.

Mogao Caves and Buddhism

Dunhuang’s geography and history are just the backdrop. The Mogao Caves and Buddhist culture are its soul.

Buddhism originated in India in the 6th century BC, spreading to China during the Western Han Dynasty. Ashoka made it the state religion of the Mauryan Dynasty, promoting it widely. Many Chinese sites still have Ashoka Temple and Pagoda. Most Eastern civilizations, including the Han, Western Regions, and plateau peoples, accepted Buddhism.

However, India, Buddhism’s birthplace, lost its status. Under colonial rule, it gave way to Persian and Arab religions. Its future shifted east, to Dunhuang. Dunhuang’s rulers represented Buddhist civilization, regardless of wars and changes.

Historical changes might have destroyed the city, but for the Mogao Caves, it was a crucible, forging today’s treasures.

We’ll discuss the Mogao Caves later (Day 3).

Museum

Here are some museum photos. There are many high-definition replicas of Mogao Cave art, for close observation.

A model of Mogao Cave 45 (High Tang period). The highlight: 7 statues with excellent expressions.

The Bodhisattva statue, the “Beautiful Bodhisattva,” depicts the ideal High Tang female image.

Han Dynasty documents. The beauty of this writing is clear.

A delicate Buddhist painting: the Nine-Tiered Pagoda of the Three Realms.

I missed photos of other interesting items. Chain mail, unearthed in Dunhuang, was one. Originating in Europe, it appeared in Dunhuang during the Han and Tang, showing surprisingly fast technology transfer. It was precious equipment, worn only by those of rank.

Leaving the hall, we saw a cute modern pixel painting, imitating the Mogao Caves’ Nine-Colored Deer murals.

Day 2: Yumen Pass and Yangguan Pass

We took the western route on day two. The original plan: West Thousand Buddha Caves first (a prelude to Mogao, with more detailed explanations), then Yangguan Pass and Yumen Pass. Finally, Yadan Ghost City for sunset among the wind-eroded rocks.

But Yadan Ghost City had closed last year, reopening to be announced – probably for periodic maintenance.

So, we adjusted: Yumen Pass first, working our way back, hitting as many spots as possible.

The Solar Power Tower

Near Dunhuang, we found a solar power station. I’d noticed neat squares in this area on the map, thinking it was a new tech district.

We detoured to the entrance and found it was a CGN photovoltaic project. For a remote desert city like Dunhuang, clean energy is ideal.

Behind the plant, a tall tower emitted a dazzling white light, with beams converging at the top, like Red Alert’s Prism Tower. It’s a solar thermal station, with thousands of mirrors forming a huge concave mirror. It boils water to drive a steam turbine. Energy efficiency is about 15%, lower than photovoltaics, but it generates AC, easier to connect to the grid.

This bright tower kept us company throughout the day, emphasizing the Gobi Desert’s flatness.

Yumen Pass

After nearly 2 hours, we were surrounded by barren landscape. Some sections had desert vegetation.

Three roads lead into the Yumen Pass scenic area, each to different ruins.

The right road leads to Dafangpan City and a beacon tower, 12 kilometers away, requiring a shuttle bus (fixed times, so you wait). The bus only stops for 30 minutes, not enough for photos and enjoying the view.

Dafangpan City’s full view. A Han Dynasty granary, opening to the south.

A beacon tower on the other side of the road.

Dafangpan City details, some with a Yadan feel. The small holes might be ventilation.

A small lake on the northeast side.

Back at the start, the left road leads to the Han Dynasty Great Wall ruins, 5 kilometers away, also requiring a bus (15-minute visit).

The ruins are shorter than expected, under 3 meters at the highest. The Han Great Wall is 136 kilometers long, from Guazhou to Dunhuang, blocking the Hexi Corridor’s entrance. This 300-meter section is the best-preserved in the country.

Two thousand years ago, soldiers used reeds and gravel to build it in layers. Different weathering rates create horizontal stripes.

One end connects to a beacon tower, always built on high ground.

The Great Wall wasn’t built all at once under Qin Shi Huang, but extended over dynasties. The Han Great Wall was built when Emperor Wu conquered the Western Regions. It included facilities for beacon fire transmission, troop garrisoning, transportation, and farming – a complete defense system.

The beacon fire system appeared as early as the Western Zhou Dynasty (“playing with the feudal lords with beacon fires”). The Han system was complex, with different signals for different situations, materials, and times of day.

Petrified firewood, seen in the museum. Soldiers collected reeds and Salix matsudana branches (unlike weeping willows, these grow upwards). They were plastered with mud for stability. The layered structure is visible.

Returning from the Han Great Wall, one road leads to Xiaofangpan City (Yumen Pass), a small castle and the scenic area’s core, just a few minutes’ walk.

The interior isn’t large, but you can stand on the wall.

A close-up of the outer wall, made of reeds and sand.

North of Xiaofangpan City, a modern observation deck lets you experience looking north. It’s flat between the tower and mountains, making it easy to spot enemies.

Yangguan Pass

Yangguan Pass has few ruins, mostly reconstructions. Siege weapon models are displayed in front of the antique-style pass.

Wang Wei’s line “West of Yangguan, there are no old friends” is literally true. Yangguan Pass was a border crossing, requiring a pass (equivalent to a passport). “Guanzhao” (关照) originally meant a pass, but soldiers would protect those with passes, evolving into its current verb meaning.

Beyond this pass, a beacon tower is the only remaining relic. It’s farther than it looks – you’ll need transport (battery cars, donkey carts, horses, camels – different prices).

I recommend riding a camel. The four of us swayed, the setting sun on our faces. The camel bells were the most beautiful part. The Mingsha Mountain camels (visited later) lacked bells. It was near closing, and the wind and bells made the experience vivid.

The handsome white camel leading the way.

The camel team arrived at the beacon tower. Looking back against the light, the scene was desolate and lonely – awe-inspiring.

Don’t rush back; the real highlight is ahead. Walk higher, and the scenery behind the mountain will take your breath away.

That’s my friend, not me.

Looking back, the same desolation.

You can pay extra to have the camels take you along the Yangguan Road, to a valley and sandy area. The guide claimed it’s a well-preserved ancient road.

It’s questionable, as the ancient Yangguan Road led out of the pass. But the stele of the ruins is at the beacon tower, so it might be true. The experience is what matters.

A Gobi traveler in the afterglow, looking like someone heading towards the vast Western Regions. An amazing end to a day on the western route!

Day 3: Mogao Caves

The Mogao Caves are very close to the airport, even closer than downtown Dunhuang. The site is split into two parts. First, you visit the Digital Exhibition Center, where you watch two short digital films, about 10-20 minutes each.

The first film is a regular movie with actors, providing background on Dunhuang’s history and the Mogao Caves. The second is a 360-degree dome movie, which uses digital models to showcase some of the best caves.

The actual caves are about 12 kilometers from the Digital Center. A buffer zone separates the two, and you must take the park’s shuttle bus—private cars aren’t allowed.

Stepping off the bus, the sheer scale of the Mogao Caves is immediately apparent. Over 700 caves exist, with almost 500 containing statues and murals. However, only around 60 are open to the public. Some caves, like those in the photo, were monks’ living quarters and lack murals. Mogao stretches for 1.7 kilometers, and this is only a small part.

Mogao Caves are a World Heritage Site, a national treasure, but what are they? Historically, they served as a temple complex for monks and a place of worship for believers.

During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, a monk named Le Zun arrived at Sanwei Mountain. He witnessed a golden light, “like a thousand Buddhas,” and began carving caves into the cliff face. This marked the beginning of the Mogao Caves.

From that point on, it was like a chain reaction – more monks and believers came to carve caves and create statues. Construction continued from the Northern and Southern Dynasties through the late Tang Dynasty. During the Song and Yuan Dynasties, local rulers maintained the site, but new construction largely ceased.

The cave area is a separate zone; once you exit, you can’t re-enter. You can’t wander freely – your ticket dictates how many caves you can visit. Booking in advance usually gets you an “A” ticket, granting access to 8 random caves with a guide. Caves open on a rotating basis for preservation. The guide unlocks each cave and locks it after your visit, minimizing damage to the murals from temperature, humidity, and light.

Photography is prohibited, so I’ll use official Mogao Caves or online images.

Mogao Cave 29

Built in the mid-late Tang Dynasty, with murals repainted during the Western Xia period.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=530741411143zh

This is the caisson ceiling of Cave 29. A caisson ceiling is a recessed decorative ceiling in Chinese architecture, adorned with painted patterns. The vibrant greenish-blue, seen extensively in many caves, comes from malachite green, a natural copper-based pigment.

The Western Xia and the contemporary Uyghurs left behind many caves in Mogao, each with distinct features. The walls are often covered with neatly arranged, repeating Buddha images, representing a thousand Buddhas.

Mogao Cave 329

Built in the early Tang Dynasty, with statues renovated in the Qing Dynasty.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=027193821344

This cave also features a 360-degree VR image from Digital Dunhuang: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/cave/10.0001/0001.0001.0329

Careless Qing Dynasty renovations left these statues somewhat crude, resembling those in a small, local temple. The main draws of this cave are the murals and caisson ceiling. I find the Tang Dynasty murals the most exquisite. Unlike the thousand-Buddha backgrounds of the Western Regions, the Central Plains dynasties’ murals tell stories. These “sutra transformation paintings” (jingbianhua) are a pioneering art form, using paintings to depict Buddhist scripture stories, akin to murals in Western European churches.

The north-side mural depicts Shakyamuni’s birth. Before becoming a Buddha, Shakyamuni was an Indian prince. His mother, Queen Maya, encountered a Bodhisattva riding an elephant descending on clouds. The elephant touched her belly with its trunk, and she became pregnant, giving birth to Shakyamuni from her armpit. The armpit birth relates to the Indian caste system. Shakyamuni’s Kshatriya family, second only to Brahmins, had their caste status associated with the arm.

The south-side mural depicts Shakyamuni’s enlightenment. Witnessing birth, old age, sickness, death, and life’s impermanence, he sought truth and escape from worldly constraints. He rode a horse, with four heavenly kings holding its hooves, and flew over the city wall, escorted by singing and playing apsaras (flying deities) to the mountains for ascetic practice.

The figures’ dark skin is due to the oxidation of the lead-based red pigment used for skin tones. Other colors fade, but the skin tone changes completely, requiring some imagination.

The caisson ceiling is a Mogao masterpiece. The central lotus pattern represents Buddhism’s Western Pure Land. The layered details are rich yet organized. The outermost layer features flying apsaras playing musical instruments.

Flying apsaras are Buddhist deities of song, dance, and flower scattering, capable of flight with just two silk ribbons. They appear in almost every cave, lively and elegant.

On the north wall is a Maitreya sutra transformation painting. Note the technique: figures face forward, while buildings are viewed from above, with a near-large, far-small perspective. This predates Leonardo da Vinci’s perspective painting by almost a thousand years.

Mogao Cave 328

Built in the early Tang Dynasty, it remains unrenovated, preserving the original early Tang style.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=744635762684

The main Buddha retains the Western Regions beard and hasn’t been completely de-gendered.

On the left is Kasyapa, Shakyamuni’s chief disciple, an ascetic monk with a furrowed brow and solemn expression.

On the right is Ananda, Shakyamuni’s cousin, known as “the most learned” for his memory and long exposure to the Dharma. His expression and posture are more relaxed than Kasyapa’s.

The asymmetrical number of supporting Bodhisattva statues is due to the theft of one by American Langdon Warner; it’s now in Harvard’s Arthur M. Sackler Museum.

Mogao Cave 17

Built in the late Tang Dynasty, this is the famous Library Cave that brought global renown to the Mogao Caves.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=178377696853

Digital Dunhuang VR image: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/cave/10.0001/0001.0001.0017

The door is numbered 16-17, representing two caves. The larger cave was under renovation during our visit. Cave 17 is the small side cave.

The statue of the monk Hong Bian in meditation is a memorial built by his disciples. The mural behind depicts his daily practice, with maids, nuns, a backpack, and a water bottle on the Bodhi tree.

In the early 11th century, the statue was moved, and this cave was sealed with over 50,000 Buddhist scriptures, paintings, and documents, covering over 700 years of social history from the Jin Dynasty to the early Song Dynasty. These are incredibly valuable relics. Two main theories explain the sealing: the refuge theory suggests monks hid the scriptures to protect them from war; the abandonment theory posits they were discarded documents that, out of respect, couldn’t be destroyed, so they were sealed away.

In 1900, a Taoist priest, Wang Yuanlu, was clearing sand. The guide pointed out sand lines on the cave entrance – oblique scratches from accumulated sand rubbing against the wall, the highest almost reaching the door top. Wang Yuanlu noticed a crack in the wall, revealing brick, not rock. He broke through and discovered the 50,000+ relics.

He reported it to the government, but the Qing Dynasty showed little interest in文物 protection. Foreign explorers arrived and bought batches of scrolls at low prices. Over 40,000 of the 50,000+ relics were lost overseas.

A photo of the Library Cave and scrolls taken by American Aurel Stein.

Frenchman Paul Pelliot selecting relics in the Library Cave.

Mogao Cave 292

Built in the Sui Dynasty.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=864712375785

This cave has an innovative layout: three groups of Buddha statues (1 Buddha + 2 disciples each). The front is the present Buddha Shakyamuni, the south is the past Buddha Dipankara, and the north is the future Buddha Maitreya.

Besides the Three Buddhas divided by time, there are Three Buddhas divided by space. The Eastern Medicine Buddha (Pure Lapis Lazuli World) is for present-day well-being. The central Shakyamuni Buddha (Saha World) is Buddhism’s leader. The Western Amitabha Buddha (Land of Ultimate Bliss) guides beings to escape suffering. Some Buddhists believe the Three Buddhas in space are all incarnations of Shakyamuni.

Sui Dynasty Buddha statues differ greatly from Tang Dynasty ones, lacking realistic proportions and having large, square heads. The past Buddha Dipankara and future Buddha Maitreya have similar images. The common big-bellied Maitreya image is based on a later cloth bag monk.

The commonly seen Maitreya Buddha statue today.

The cave’s top features a pair of lions, now humorous due to oxidation, making them look lightning-struck.

Mogao Cave 61

Built during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=816484388973

Digital Dunhuang VR image: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/cave/10.0001/0001.0001.0061

This cave has a horseshoe-shaped altar, but the Buddha statue is destroyed. A lion’s tail shape at the remaining connection suggests it enshrined Manjushri Bodhisattva, whose mount is a lion.

Behind the altar is a massive “Map of Mount Wutai” (Manjushri’s dojo), 13 meters long and 3.6 meters high, detailing roads to Mount Wutai, Buddhist pilgrimages, and local life. I saw a high-definition replica in the Mogao Caves Art Museum (these two pictures are from there).

Another highlight is the donor mural near the entrance. This cave was a merit hall built by secular believers, so the donors are like sponsors’ logos – prominently displayed.

After the Tibetan Empire’s decline, Zhang Yichao established the Guiyi Army, seized Dunhuang and Guazhou, and submitted to the Tang. The Cao family, the second ruling family of the Guiyi Army, built this cave. The murals depict Cao family women, their peach-shaped hairstyles indicating Uyghur identity. Uyghur is a Turkic language, and its pronunciation is close to that of the modern Uyghur ethnic group.

Picture from the art museum. Left: Uyghur lady married into the Guiyi Army. Second from left: Han Chinese, but married into the Uyghur regime and dressed in Uyghur attire. Third from left: Different hairstyle, a woman from Khotan (a Buddhist regime in today’s Hotan, Xinjiang). This shows the Guiyi Army’s delicate balance through marriage alliances. The fourth from the left, taller and in Han attire, is the family’s true mistress, but she yielded the first three positions out of courtesy.

Mogao Cave 96

Built in the early Tang Dynasty and commonly called the Nine-Story Building, this is the largest structure in the Mogao Caves.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=525124140728

It’s magnificent from the outside, fully utilizing the cliff’s height.

Photographed by Warner in 1924. The external building had vanished; only the cliffside Buddha statue remained after thousands of years. The current building is a reconstruction.

The 35.5-meter-high statue of Maitreya Buddha is China’s largest indoor Buddha. Carved from the cliff, its details were created with plastered mud. It’s a stone-core clay statue, unlike the smaller clay-core statues.

The Buddha’s left hand, palm up, is the Varada Mudra (fulfilling wishes – compassion). The right hand, palm forward, is the Abhaya Mudra (removing suffering – mercy). Compassion and mercy are distinct.

Mogao Cave 148

Built in the High Tang Dynasty, renovated in the late Tang, Western Xia, and Qing Dynasties, this is Mogao’s largest reclining Buddha cave.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=659662000840

The delicate, natural clothing folds reflect High Tang Dynasty customs.

Reclining Buddha statues depict Shakyamuni’s death, signifying his escape from reincarnation and suffering. This is the Nirvana Buddha, and the cave’s shape echoes this, with a coffin-lid-like top.

Densely packed disciples and believers show sadness. The guide noted one (not pictured) with higher understanding, smiling, happy for the Buddha’s Nirvana.

The three walls feature a huge Nirvana sutra transformation painting, depicting events before and after Shakyamuni’s Nirvana: 66 scenes, 500+ characters and animals – a masterpiece.

Part of the Nirvana sutra transformation painting (from the art museum). Four strong men carry the body, with Bodhisattvas, monks, and believers seeing them off.

The body was cremated, and the Buddha’s relics were distributed for safekeeping and worship.

Art Museum

Visiting the caves is rushed, for preservation, minimizing human impact. The explanations are roughly equivalent to this travelogue’s content, hard to remember fully. I recalled this information gradually after returning and researching.

Therefore, visiting the Mogao Caves Art Museum afterward is essential. Here, you can calmly examine details.

The museum displays models of typical caves, representing different architectural forms.

Zen caves: monks’ living quarters, without statues or murals.

Central pillar caves: usually large, with a truncated pyramidal front roof and a flat back roof. Believers circumambulate the central pillar.

Hall caves: similar to central pillar caves, but without the pillar; the statue is in a front wall niche.

Central altar caves: large dome, no pillars, an altar instead of a pillar.

Nirvana caves: rectangular, coffin-shaped, themed around Buddha’s Nirvana.

The murals depict numerous buildings from different periods.

And scenes of secular life, like this hunting scene.

Also, landscapes.

One depicts the end of the world.

Murals are also key for studying makeup. Tang Dynasty women shaved their eyebrows and repainted them, unlike other dynasties.

Scenes of music and dance.

Clothing, hairstyle, and dance posture indicate this is the Hu Xuan dance of the Western Regions, which appeared in Tang Dynasty celebrations, reflecting frequent cultural exchange.

These are imaginations of celestial music: instruments sounding without human players.

War scenes, too. This group shows Zhang Yichao’s army recovering Shazhou and Guazhou.

The most interesting are Buddhist stories. This is the Nine-Colored Deer, one of Shakyamuni’s previous lives. It saved a drowning man, who promised secrecy. The queen dreamed of the deer, and the king offered a reward. The man, tempted, revealed the secret. The deer, surrounded, told the king the truth. Moved, the king forbade harming it. The ungrateful man was covered in sores.

Besides murals, there are other relics. This “Rules of the Women’s Society of Guifang Lane” was a Tang Dynasty folk organization with membership rules and signatures. It was entirely female, evidence of Tang Dynasty openness.

A long star chart scroll, very different from modern constellations. I only recognized Vega.

Leaving the museum, returning to the bus stop. Looking east, across the valley, is Sanwei Mountain, where Le Zun saw the thousand Buddhas.

I was told at Yangguan Pass that the Mogao Caves might close permanently in three to five years for maximum mural protection. Tourists would then only see digital reproductions. Whether true or not, closure will happen eventually. I hope digital visits can better showcase its charm.

The Digital Dunhuang website, mentioned earlier, is a treasure trove with VR images of representative caves: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/index.htm.

The 2008 NHK documentary “The Full Beauty of Dunhuang” (about 3 hours) is also well-produced: https://v.qq.com/x/page/c052998o5ua.html.

“Encore Dunhuang” Performance

That evening, I saw the “Encore Dunhuang” performance. Many historical, cultural, or folk custom sites have performances; “Encore Dunhuang” is truly special.

The venue is next to the Mogao Caves scenic area.

It’s a large-scale recitation performance, communicating with ancient Dunhuang souls through a modern guide’s perspective, traversing millennia. Uniquely, for the first hour of the 1.5-hour show, the audience has no seats. They follow the plot, moving through historical scenes, experiencing major Dunhuang events up close.

I didn’t take pictures; it must be experienced. The most shocking scene, for me, was Wang Yuanlu transporting relics. The Bodhisattva manifested, and numerous flying apsaras broke through the wall, vividly restoring the Bodhisattvas’ solemnity and the apsaras’ agility.

Stargazing

After the show, I was still itching for something to do. With all the sites closed, I looked for some natural beauty.

We drove about 20 minutes out of Dunhuang, taking a small dirt road off the highway. We had no idea where it led; it was pitch black. We cut the headlights; only a faint glow from Dunhuang remained on the horizon. Obviously, 20 minutes wasn’t nearly enough to escape the light pollution.

Still, the stars were much better than anything in Hangzhou. No Milky Way, but they were the brightest I’d seen in over a decade, rivaling the skies from my childhood in Nanchang. Every star in the Big Dipper outshone Jupiter in Hangzhou’s night sky. I used the Dipper to locate Polaris, but it was dimmer than the seven, meaning there were some clouds. Conditions weren’t perfect.

No matter – the next day at Mingsha Mountain, we saw an even clearer sky.

Day 4: Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring

Our plan to visit Baima Pagoda, a lesser-known attraction, was thwarted by road construction.

Leiyin Temple

Since it was the first workday after the Qingming Festival, we headed to Leiyin Temple near Mingsha Mountain. It’s a modern temple, not ancient. The spacious grounds and widely spaced buildings, with minimal landscaping, give it a palace-like feel – quite unlike the compact, nature-filled temples of Jiangnan.

Some halls are built in the Tang Dynasty style, featuring traditional dougong (bracket sets). Others are in the later Ming and Qing styles.

Tang Dynasty dougong. (Image source: internet)

It’s a pleasant spot to unwind, but not essential.

Mingsha Mountain (Singing Sands Mountain)

Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring are two separate areas. Mingsha Mountain is where the action is: camel rides, dune buggies, and gliders. We tried them all, and it’s worth experiencing the desert from different angles.

Unlike the rocky Gobi on the West Line, here it’s all sand dunes.

As a Southerner on my first Northwest trip, I was mesmerized. I’d never seen anything like it.

The dune buggies were the best value. A pro driver accompanies you, but you can take the wheel on flatter sections. It’s tough to steer on sand; the wheels drift, requiring real effort to keep straight. We probably hit 40 km/h, and many sections were sloped – a real thrill.

Only this activity lets you pay extra to access a special area. Atop the mountain, there’s a desert botanical garden, with low-lying plants spread across the valley – a stark contrast to the dunes.

My friend’s silhouette. The desert’s charm is palpable.

These plants are almost person-high up close.

The buggy ride includes sand sliding at Jade Maiden Peak, offering panoramic views: Dunhuang city to the north, Gobi mountains to the east, and dunes to the west and south. The peak has steep, almost 60-degree slopes. Sand sliding is surprisingly safe; the friction is high, requiring effort to move even on steep inclines.

Mingsha Mountain (Singing Sands Mountain) gets its name from two sound phenomena. Strong winds create a rumble, reportedly audible in Dunhuang city. Sliding down the dunes also produces a hum, especially noticeable with multiple people. The exact cause remains a mystery.

Next, we took a glider. It’s powered, with a rear propeller, taking off from a small airstrip. The flight circles Mingsha Mountain for about two minutes, passing over Crescent Spring.

From above, Crescent Spring resembles jade inlaid in the dunes.

Camel riding was next, though I didn’t take photos. Hundreds of camels rested at the camp – a unique sight. The ride passes several photo spots before returning, taking over an hour. Having tried the other activities, and ridden camels at Yangguan, it was less thrilling. Still, desert camel riding is a distinct experience. The constant stream of camel trains at Mingsha Mountain creates a Silk Road caravan ambiance.

Crescent Spring

We headed to Crescent Spring, hoping for a sunset view.

The angled sunlight creates sharp light/shadow lines on the dunes, enhancing their three-dimensionality.

We miscalculated. Crescent Spring, fed by an underground river, lies in a depression surrounded by dunes. Reaching the edge, we realized the sun was already blocked.

The buildings near Crescent Spring felt like a paradise: flowers blooming within the walls, contrasting with the vast desert outside.

Walking the corridor, I kept expecting a Jiangnan garden landscape outside each window – a surreal feeling.

From the tallest building, you can see fish in the crescent-shaped lake.

A friend captured Crescent Spring’s transition from day to night.

Crescent Spring at twilight: incredibly peaceful.

Dunes illuminated by twilight.

After dark, stars emerged. Despite the light pollution, the clear sky offered excellent viewing. My phone captured this; imagine the naked-eye view.

A bonfire party campsite lies over 10 kilometers behind Crescent Spring, accessible with a camping package. It’s reportedly a good stargazing spot.

Day 5: Heading Back

No activities were planned. We returned the car and flew out at noon, with a 3-hour layover in Lanzhou, arriving back in Hangzhou that night.

We lucked out with the weather, avoiding sandstorms. A heavy sandstorm greeted us on arrival, but it cleared by evening. The weather improved steadily, only to worsen again two days after we left. I forgot to update my weather app and saw Dunhuang’s weather turning. The small square in the center is Dunhuang city.

Spring in Dunhuang is beautiful, but unpredictable.

A week after returning, I still dreamt of the Gobi Desert and the Buddha murals.

Tips for Dunhuang

Having planned the entire trip myself, from flights to hotels, here are some practical tips based on my experience:

City Life

Dunhuang is a surprisingly clean desert city. You get the natural beauty of the Northwest with the tidiness of a major city.

Water isn’t as scarce as you might expect. A reservoir supplies the city, and a good-sized river runs through the center. Parks along the river even have a Jiangnan feel.

Dunhuang is two hours behind Beijing time. Sunset in spring is around 8 PM. While 2 AM feels like midnight and 10 AM feels like 8 AM, attractions and restaurants generally operate on Beijing time, especially in the off-season. Most places close after 9:30 PM Beijing time, leaving only the night market and some late-night BBQ spots. Plan accordingly if you want both sunset views and a proper dinner.

At about 1200 meters above sea level, altitude sickness isn’t a concern.

Forget outdated online guides claiming poor network coverage on the West Line (Yumenguan, Yangguan) and the need for cash. Mobile payment is standard in this tourist city.

Climate

Dunhuang experiences significant temperature swings, up to 15-20 degrees Celsius between day and night. In early April, it’s pleasant, nearing 20 degrees at noon, and hotter in the desert. Nights are around 5 degrees and chilly with wind.

For a spring visit, pack for both spring and winter conditions. Avoid mesh shoes or clothes – you’ll be shaking out sand forever.

The desert sun is intense, even in spring. Sun protection is crucial: hats, sunglasses, and scarves are a must. Sunscreen is essential for the ladies.

Even dressed like this, I ended up with a tan resembling a Dunhuang mural.

Peak season is July and August, with scorching daytime temperatures.

Food

This section is time-sensitive (2021). Restaurant brands may change.

Local specialties include donkey meat with yellow noodles (驴肉黄面) and braised mutton with pancakes (胡羊焖饼). Expect lots of donkey meat, mutton, and noodle dishes. Shacong (沙葱) is a tasty local vegetable, often served in a cold salad. Apricot peel water (杏皮水) is the local drink, similar to sour plum soup. Xinjiang and Sichuan cuisine are also widely available.

Our first meal was at the Shazhou Night Market – a tourist trap with mediocre food. We found much better options later.

We asked locals for recommendations, and they pointed us to highly-rated restaurants on Dianping (大众点评, a Chinese review app). Dianping is a more reliable source than the local tourism bureau.

Cheng Bianbian BBQ (城边边烧烤): A popular BBQ joint, open late – expect a queue. The grilled meats and lamb chops are excellent, with a unique, slightly sour flavor (vinegar in BBQ is new to me!). Their fresh fruit yogurt is also worth trying.

Huoyanyan BBQ (火焱焱烤肉): BBQ and Xinjiang cuisine, also open late. We went around 9 PM without waiting. We recall two noodle dishes: Xinjiang beef rice noodles and a soupy noodle dish (name forgotten).

Daji Jiang Donkey Meat Yellow Noodle Restaurant (达记酱驴肉黄面馆): A traditional, old-fashioned restaurant with waiters who look to be in their 50s. They likely only serve lunch and dinner. The yellow noodles and donkey meat are far superior to those at the Shazhou Night Market. The donkey meat is thickly sliced, and the noodles aren’t overly sour.

We mostly ate at Dicos and KFC otherwise, due to time constraints. Dicos is prevalent in Dunhuang.

Two other noteworthy mentions:

A small pastry stall at the Shazhou Night Market food street entrance serves breakfast. The grilled corn cakes are delicious, reminding my friends from Northeast China of their childhood.
“Liu Ajing” (刘阿晶) is a ubiquitous local milk tea brand. Their signature 3-yuan large ice cream cone is rich and creamy – I had it three times in five days.

Accommodation

Two main lodging options exist: near the Flying Apsaras statue (反弹琵琶雕像) in the bustling city center, close to the Shazhou Night Market; or near Mingsha Mountain, offering convenient sightseeing and scenic views.

Dunhuang is small, with most high-rises being hotels. A south-facing window guarantees a view of Mingsha Mountain, varying only in distance.

We stayed at the Bohui Wenhua Hotel in the city center, near the commercial district. It’s 3 kilometers from Mingsha Mountain, but the views are still great due to the dunes’ size.

I was highly satisfied with the hotel. Rooms were clean, tidy, and spacious – land seems inexpensive here. The staff were consistently friendly and helpful. They even called to inform me of Mingsha Mountain’s closure due to dusty weather on our first day.

Perhaps due to the off-season, the hotel provided complimentary breakfast for two days, even though our room didn’t include it. Breakfast was delivered to our room, with the option to schedule delivery the day before.

The light breakfast was a welcome change after days of BBQ, lamb chops, and fried chicken.

Transportation

Dunhuang is compact, no more than 10 kilometers across. In 2021, there were only four bus lines.

Parking is plentiful in spring. As a seasonal tourist city, public resources are designed for peak season, leaving ample availability in the off-season. Parking is free at all attractions except Mogao Caves.

Underground parking is rare. Parking fees are very low, capped at 20 yuan per night, with some places charging per entry. Renting a car is highly recommended for freedom and convenience.

Car rental companies are almost exclusively located at the airport, which is conveniently near the train station, allowing for easy pickup and return.

Heed speed limits. It’s easy to speed in this vast, sparsely populated area. Keep your navigation on. The speed limit from the airport to the city is 70 km/h, deceptively low for the wide, open road. There are also 40 km/h zones near schools. The West Line has frequent speed limit changes, so listen to your navigation. Average speed enforcement is in place near Yumenguan.

There are no gas stations on the West Line (to Yumenguan and Yadan), and the round trip is at least 200 kilometers, so fuel up beforehand.

Main Attractions

Dunhuang Museum: Visiting time: 2-3 hours. A 10-minute drive from downtown, with parking available. Free admission, but advance booking and ID card entry are required. The “Bowuguan” (博物官) WeChat mini-program offers audio guides for some artifacts.

Yumenguan Pass: Visiting time: 2-3 hours. The furthest point on the West Line (excluding Yadan), a 2-hour drive, accessible only by self-driving, chartered car, or a local day trip. Purchase tickets on the “You Dunhuang” (游敦煌) WeChat official account. Third-party platforms often bundle tickets with unwanted activities. The West Line is desolate; plan your meals. A restaurant is inside the Yumenguan scenic area, but there are no other dining options en route.

Yangguan Pass: Visiting time: 2-3 hours, potentially longer as it’s expanding. Also on the West Line, you’ll pass it en route to Yumenguan. Buy tickets on the “You Dunhuang” WeChat official account. Many farmhouses surround Yangguan, but their off-season availability is uncertain. A Dicos and possibly another snack place are inside the scenic area.

Mogao Caves: Visiting time: 3-4 hours. East of Dunhuang, near the airport (about a 20-minute drive). Staff will contact you a few days prior to confirm your digital movie viewing time. The visit begins with two digital movies, followed by a bus ride to the cave area. Movie showtimes are fixed, so punctuality is essential. Restaurants are available inside the Mogao Caves area, with additional farmhouse-style options closer to the airport.

Encore Dunhuang (又见敦煌): Visiting time: 1.5 hours. In the off-season, there’s one daily show at 8 PM. The theater is next to Mogao Caves, with its own parking. This performance and Mogao Caves are usually combined. Careful planning is crucial, down to the hour. Calculate your Mogao Caves visit completion time (based on the movie start time), factor in a meal (nearby or in the city), and arrive at the theater before 8 PM. The first hour of Encore Dunhuang is standing-room-only, moving between scenes. Strict security checks prohibit outside food and water.

Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring: Visiting time: 3-6 hours (excluding overnight camping). Spend an entire afternoon and stay for sunset. The scenic area is just 3 kilometers from the city. The ticket allows unlimited entries within three days – activate this by scanning your face at a machine near the gate. This makes dining easy, though restaurants are also available inside.

List of All Attractions

Grouped by location for easy planning. Must-see attractions are bolded.

East Line: Mogao Caves, Encore Dunhuang performance
West Line: Dunhuang Ancient City Film Base, Western Thousand Buddha Caves, Yangguan Pass, Yumenguan Pass, Yadan Devil City
South of the City: Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring, Leiyin Temple, Dunhuang Grand Ceremony performance
Guazhou Line: Yulin Caves, Suoyang City
Other in the City: Dunhuang Museum, White Horse Pagoda, Shazhou Ancient City, Silk Road Flower Rain performance

The West Line is a single road, listed from nearest to furthest. You can’t cover all five locations in one day; skip 2-3.

The Guazhou Line requires a trip to Guazhou County (part of Dunhuang City). The Yulin Caves are reportedly worthwhile, managed by the same unit as Mogao Caves, and feature many exquisite works.

Other city attractions can fill itinerary gaps.

Local small parks and minor attractions are excluded.

Expenses

Hotels and transportation are very inexpensive in the off-season. Dining costs are normal, and even fruit prices are comparable to Hangzhou. Our primary expenses were airfare and recreational activities.

Other People’s Guides or Travelogues

Here are some other guides and travelogues I found useful:

Comprehensive travelogue: https://www.mafengwo.cn/i/10927558.html
Comprehensive travelogue: http://www.mafengwo.cn/i/10546594.html
West Line travelogue: http://www.mafengwo.cn/i/16989550.html
Dunhuang’s three major performances: https://www.mafengwo.cn/gonglve/ziyouxing/14655.html

Behind the Scenes

I was in charge of planning this entire trip, and everyone I traveled with was really happy with the itinerary I put together.

Honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process for planning a trip. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

A Bit of Homework on Suzhou Gardens

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Wed, 30 Sep 2020 10:18:27 +0000

I’m visiting Suzhou’s gardens during the National Day holiday. My previous visit, as a student, was underwhelming – I knew little about them, and only the Lion Grove Garden’s rockery maze stuck with me. To avoid a repeat, I did some prep work. Now, they’re far more intriguing, and I’m excited to go.

Expecting crowds, I’m not aiming for great photos. If I get any, I might expand this into a travelogue. Otherwise, these notes will do.

My main source is the podcast “园林里的中国故事” (Chinese Gardens’ Stories), a summary of key facts about several gardens. I’m unfamiliar with the host, but I’ve verified the information. The host’s deep historical and cultural knowledge, and clear connections, make it a worthwhile listen.

Globally, three garden systems stand out: Chinese classical, European geometric, and Japanese gardens.

Chinese classical gardens have three branches: imperial gardens, Jiangnan’s private gardens, and Lingnan gardens. Lingnan gardens, historically on the periphery, lacked the literati influence and wealth, developing a distinct, folk-influenced style.

China’s Four Great Gardens are the Summer Palace, Chengde Mountain Resort, Humble Administrator’s Garden, and Lingering Garden.

Canglang Pavilion, Lion Grove Garden, Humble Administrator’s Garden, and Lingering Garden represent the four major Suzhou gardens, showcasing Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasty styles, respectively.

Origins and History

Chinese gardens originated in the Qin and Han dynasties, alongside ancient Chinese architecture, but were initially imperial hunting grounds. Earlier rulers had similar areas, but not true gardens. These took the form of tai (platforms), you (pastures), and zhao (ponds).

Emperor Wu of Han expanded Shanglin Yuan into the largest garden ever. It served as a zoo, botanical garden, farm, mine, and military training ground.

The Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties marked China’s second ideological liberation, after the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. Previously, literati talents served solely political ends. The 300-year chaos of the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties freed literati, making them an independent class.

Imperial gardens stagnated during this time. Meanwhile, literati, disillusioned by the turmoil, embraced reclusion, cultivating unique theories, spiritual worlds, and garden art.

Taoism rose concurrently, and Buddhism, introduced in the Han Dynasty, peaked. Temple gardens flourished, often in remote locations, opening up scenic areas for future generations.

Gardens peaked in the prosperous Tang Dynasty, displaying a bold, magnificent style. This era represented a zenith in Chinese military, economic, and cultural power. Gardens, poetry, and other cultural outputs reflected this confidence. The largest Tang imperial garden surpassed even the later Forbidden City in size.

The Tang Dynasty boasted advanced flower cultivation, and private gardens began to prioritize landscaping, unlike the simpler, often field-like gardens of the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties.

During the Song and Yuan dynasties, gardens shifted from concrete to abstract, pursuing artistic conception. This mirrored a broader cultural trend. The Song Dynasty prioritized civil over military matters. Though militarily weaker, its economy and culture thrived. The recreational pursuits of later literati fully developed during the Song Dynasty.

Emperor Huizong of Song, a notable artist, pioneered the use of Taihu stones for garden rockeries.

The Southern Song Dynasty saw a rise in public gardens, allowing ordinary people to experience garden aesthetics.

The Yuan Dynasty’s key contribution was establishing Yuan Dadu, Beijing’s predecessor. The formation of Beijing’s core, the water supply from the Western Hills, and the Grand Canal project were all completed during the Yuan Dynasty, laying the groundwork for Ming and Qing imperial gardens.

The Ming and Qing dynasties shaped China’s enduring political and economic landscape. Beijing became the political center, while Jiangnan served as the economic and cultural hub.

While the north of the Ming Dynasty faced frequent wars, Jiangnan prospered. Garden development in Jiangnan remained largely unaffected by political instability.

In the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, Yangzhou, a Grand Canal hub, thrived on commerce, particularly the salt trade. Yangzhou’s gardens were then the most famous, though few survive. Because the owners were primarily merchants, these gardens lacked the prestige of literati gardens. Yangzhou declined with Qing salt reforms and the rise of maritime transport.

During the Qing Dynasty, Beijing’s imperial gardens flourished, reaching their peak.

Humble Administrator’s Garden (Zhuozheng Yuan)

Built between 1509 and 1530, during the mid-Ming Dynasty’s Zhengde era, the imperial court was declining while the common people enjoyed a period of economic and cultural prosperity. The strict frugality of Zhu Yuanzhang (the first Ming emperor) had faded, allowing for lavish gardens like this.

Wang Xianchen, the garden’s creator, retired from official service in his 40s. He transformed a dilapidated temple, old residences, and low-lying land into his private garden.

Zhuozheng Yuan is the largest private garden. It currently covers 78 mu (about 13 acres), though it was originally 100-200 mu. Most Suzhou gardens are under 20 mu.

The garden’s name comes from the Jin Dynasty’s “Idle Dwelling Fu,” suggesting that “clumsy” tasks like gardening are the true path. This reclusive philosophy influenced later private gardens.

Wang Xianchen is a controversial figure. His career declined in middle age, including a prison stint. While praised by literati like Tang Yin and Wen Zhengming, official records paint him as corrupt, suggesting his imprisonment stemmed from graft or factionalism, and that he used family influence to seize the temple.

Zhuozheng Yuan’s fame is largely due to Wen Zhengming’s writings and paintings, especially the “Thirty-One Scenes of Zhuozheng Yuan.” These records suggest the original garden was more like a vegetable garden, with the intricate landscapes appearing during the Qing Dynasty.

Wang Xianchen died in his 70s, and his son reportedly gambled away the garden in one night.

During the Qing Dynasty, Zhuozheng Yuan was famous and often housed Suzhou’s highest-ranking official. Some believe Cao Xueqin’s family (author of Dream of the Red Chamber) bought part of the garden, inspiring the Grand View Garden’s setting.

During the Xianfeng era, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom occupied Suzhou, and the Loyal King, Li Xiucheng, made Zhuozheng Yuan his palace, even expanding it. After the rebellion, Li Hongzhang, shocked by its extravagance, protected and maintained it. It then returned to being an administrative site, preserving the garden’s layout.

Key areas:

East Garden: The largest (almost half the area), with a rustic landscape and scattered buildings.
Central Garden: The main, most exquisite scenic area. It centers on the Distant Fragrance Hall (Yuanxiang Tang), facing north to a “one pond, three mountains” layout. This design imitates the mythical mountains of Penglai, Yingzhou, and Fangzhang, a pattern originating in Qin Shi Huang’s gardens. The Little Flying Rainbow (Xiao Feihong), a covered bridge, is another highlight.
West Garden: For entertainment – music, flowers, and mandarin ducks. A pavilion, “With Whom Shall I Sit?” (Yu Shui Tong Zuo Xuan), is named after Su Dongpo’s line: “With whom shall I sit? The bright moon, the cool breeze, and me.”

Zhuozheng Yuan, and similar gardens, greatly influenced later ones, making them famous for literary associations. Suzhou’s flourishing culture and abundant literati were key. To balance opportunities, the court restricted southern literati’s access to officialdom. Those excluded poured their energy into garden art, leading social trends.

Late Ming garden development also solidified construction methods. Imitating natural landscapes with endless variations, architectural design broke free from limited functional building types, elevating classical architecture.

Lingering Garden (Liu Yuan)

Built during the Ming Dynasty’s Wanli era, Liu Yuan is the newest of the major gardens.

At 35 mu, it’s second only to Zhuozheng Yuan, and much larger than others in Suzhou.

Three treasures:

Cloud-Capped Peak (Guanyun Feng): A Taihu stone, said to be from Emperor Huizong of Song’s palace.
Five-Peak Immortal Hall (Wufeng Xian Guan): Built with nanmu wood, it’s one of only two civilian nanmu halls. Its construction date and the reason for using restricted nanmu are unknown.
Rain-Clear Sky Painting (Yu Guo Tian Qing Tu): A stone with natural marble patterns resembling a painting.

Liu Yuan’s spatial planning is exceptional; its artistic merit is arguably the highest among Suzhou gardens.

In the Ming Dynasty, it was called East Garden (Dong Yuan). The builder, Xu Taishi, a fourth-rank official like Wang Xianchen, was also an architect. He served as chief of construction in the Ministry of Works, overseeing repairs to Cining Palace and the imperial tombs.

East Garden wasn’t actually east of Suzhou’s old city. Xu Taishi’s residence was larger; the residential area was west, and the garden area to the east was named East Garden.

Unlike Zhuozheng Yuan, Liu Yuan’s location and layout are largely unchanged, preserving the original design.

After the Xu family declined, East Garden was briefly abandoned. During the Qing Dynasty, a new owner, surnamed Liu, renamed it Hanbi Villa (Hanbi Shanzhuang), adding many Taihu stones.

This new owner was a literatus and avid collector of unusual stones. Cloud-Capped Peak was then just outside the northeast corner. Unable to acquire the land, he built a structure to admire it from across the wall.

Hanbi Villa was one of the few Suzhou gardens to survive the Taiping Rebellion. Afterward, Sheng Xuanhuai’s father bought it. The Sheng family adopted the previous owner’s surname, Liu, changing it to a homophone (留, “linger”). They also incorporated Cloud-Capped Peak by expanding the northeast corner. This explains the mostly square Liu Yuan’s protruding northeast corner. The garden we see today largely reflects the Sheng family’s influence.

Sheng Xuanhuai was a key figure in the late Qing Dynasty’s Self-Strengthening Movement and a prominent industrialist. He founded Tianjin University and several Jiaotong Universities. As Li Hongzhang’s right-hand man, he proposed merchant ships to fund the navy and a telegraph industry, both adopted by Li. Sheng also took advantage of struggles between Li Hongzhang and Zuo Zongtang to crush Hu Xueyan’s business empire.

Sheng Xuanhuai’s industries were vast, including shipping, telecommunications, textiles, education, banking, mining, and public welfare institutions like libraries. He also founded the Red Cross Society of China.

Lion Grove Garden (Shizi Lin)

Built in 1341, during the late Yuan Dynasty, Shizi Lin began as a Zen temple garden, a place for a high monk’s lectures, built by his disciple.

The name “Shizi Lin” (Lion Grove) honors the monk’s lineage. He was a disciple of a monk from Lion Rock (Shizi Yan) on Tianmu Mountain. “Lion” also symbolizes a high monk in Buddhism.

It wasn’t a traditional temple, lacking typical Buddhist buildings. It remained primarily a garden, not emphasizing ritual.

Ming Dynasty painter Ni Zan visited, helped plan, and painted “Shizi Lin Tu,” giving it cultural prestige.

Yao Guangxiao, the monk Daoyan, Zhu Di’s advisor, was from Suzhou and reportedly Shizi Lin’s abbot. He advised Zhu Di to seize the capital and oversaw Beijing’s construction and the Yongle Encyclopedia’s compilation. Yao Guangxiao remained a monk, refusing official positions. He later wrote Dao Yu Lu, criticizing the popular Neo-Confucianism of Cheng and Zhu.

Until the Qing Dynasty, Shizi Lin was a semi-garden, semi-temple. Emperor Qianlong, who loved it, imitated it in the imperial gardens and inscribed the True Delight Pavilion (Zhenqu Ting), giving it royal favor.

During the Republic of China period, the Bei family bought and renovated Shizi Lin. I.M. Pei spent part of his childhood here.

I.M. Pei is a world-renowned architect. His masterpieces include the Louvre Pyramid, the Suzhou Museum, and the Museum of Islamic Art. He deeply understood cross-cultural architectural art. He famously said, “Let light do the design.”

Canglang Pavilion (Surging Wave Pavilion)

Canglang Pavilion is the oldest documented garden, built in the early Northern Song Dynasty. At that time, the Northern Song hadn’t unified the country, and Suzhou was under Wuyue Kingdom rule.

The builder was a Wuyue military governor, who used it as a private villa.

During the Northern Song Dynasty, the literatus Su Shunqin, facing career setbacks and demotion, came to Suzhou. He bought the garden for 40,000 coins, building Canglang Pavilion. With a literatus’ endorsement, its fame soared.

During the Southern Song Dynasty, anti-Jin general Han Shizhong lived here, renaming it Han Garden.

From the Yuan Dynasty onward, Canglang Pavilion was abandoned. Monks built a temple, which lasted through the Ming Dynasty.

In Kangxi’s 23rd year, the Jiangsu governor built the Su Gong Shrine (Su Gong祠) on the site to commemorate Su Shunqin. Canglang Pavilion became a public building.

In Kangxi’s 34th year, another governor restored Canglang Pavilion nearby. The original was a waterside pavilion; the restoration was a mountain pavilion, built on a rockery. The garden’s focus shifted from lake to mountain.

Canglang Pavilion was mostly destroyed during the Taiping Rebellion. Today’s version is a large-scale Tongzhi era reconstruction, based on the mountain pavilion. The Ming Dynasty appearance is lost.

Canglang Pavilion’s influence lies in its name and spirit. Su Shunqin took “Canglang” from a short song: “When the waters of Canglang are clear, I can wash my hat tassels. When the waters of Canglang are muddy, I can wash my feet.” This reflects a scholar-official’s attitude: serve in enlightened times, cultivate oneself in dark ones.

Su Shunqin invited Ouyang Xiu to write an essay, and Ouyang Xiu wrote: “The clear breeze and bright moon are priceless, but sadly they only sold for 40,000 coins.” Song Dynasty officials were well-paid; 40,000 coins were about two months’ salary for a county magistrate. Ouyang Xiu’s words further elevated the garden’s fame.

Master of the Nets Garden (Wangshi Yuan)

Wangshi Yuan was built during the Southern Song Dynasty. The literatus Shi Zhengzhi built a residence, Wanjuan Tang (Ten Thousand Volumes Hall). A small garden with water, Yuyin (Fisherman’s Retreat), was Wangshi Yuan’s predecessor.

During the Qianlong era, retired official Song Zongyuan bought Wanjuan Tang and, inspired by Yuyin, renamed it Wangshi Yuan. Wangshi means “fisherman” in ancient Chinese.

Wangshi Yuan changed hands several times and was extensively renovated during the Guangxu era, resulting in its current form.

During the Republic of China period, Zhang Zuolin gave the garden as a birthday gift to his teacher.

During the War of Resistance Against Japan, Zhang Daqian and his brother, Zhang Shanzi, lived in Wangshi Yuan for four years. Zhang Shanzi, famous for painting tigers, actually kept tigers in the garden. He painted a “Flying Tiger” for Claire Chennault, the American pilot, and Chennault’s squadron became the Flying Tigers (though the exact timeline is unclear).

Wangshi Yuan’s most famous scene is Dianchunyi (Hall of Late Spring), a small, independent courtyard and study in the northwest corner, with a distinct Ming style. “Dian” means “behind,” Dianchun means late spring (peony season), and “yi” means small house. The name means “a small study in the peony season.”

In 1978, during the establishment of US-China diplomatic relations, a delegation of American museums visited. A Chinese-American consultant from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, having collected Ming-style furniture, asked Chinese garden master Chen Congzhou how to display it. Chen recommended replicating Dianchunyi. Due to diplomatic factors, the cooperation proceeded smoothly. This marked the first appearance of a Chinese garden in a foreign museum, taking garden culture global.

Even now, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is the only place to see a complete Ming-style garden. Because of the brief Tongguang Restoration during the late Qing Dynasty, most gardens were renovated in the more elaborate Qing style. Ming-style gardens have a rustic, scholarly atmosphere.

Summary

Key features:

Zhuozheng Yuan: Largest, most luxurious, Taiping Heavenly Kingdom’s Loyal King’s palace.
Liu Yuan: Newest, best preserved, highest artistic achievement, Sheng Xuanhuai.
Shizi Lin: Rockeries, Qianlong’s inscription, Yao Guangxiao and I.M. Pei.
Canglang Pavilion: Oldest, literati spirit, Su Shunqin and Ouyang Xiu.
Wangshi Yuan: Zhang Shanzi painted tigers, Dianchunyi went global.

Why isn't there a word for "ten thousand" in English?

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sun, 19 Apr 2020 12:06:00 +0000

Consider this about number units: English separates large numbers with commas, advancing in thousands—million, billion, trillion. There’s no single word for “ten thousand.” Chinese, however, uses units of ten thousand (万, 亿, 兆…). We use “million” (百万) more now, but that’s recent, due to handling larger figures. “Million” is a combination, not a base unit like “ten thousand.”

It’s curious. We have distinct words for smaller place values: ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands. Why not for larger numbers? We simply didn’t need them! Daily life, particularly anciently, rarely required such large numbers.

Rulers, however, dealt with massive figures. Inventing a word for every place value would be impractical. The solution? Use the largest common unit as a base. This avoids new concepts and simplifies comparisons. Within the same order of magnitude, the specific unit is less important. Large differences are clear from the unit, and smaller ones remain manageable.

This hints at a difference in scale between the ancient Chinese and English-speaking worlds, reflected in geography, population, and agriculture. It’s well-known, but it might be the core reason for the East-West difference in number units today.

The Digital Dark Age

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sun, 22 Mar 2020 15:50:10 +0000

Historians piece together ancient civilizations using official records for the timeline and personal accounts for the details. Tax burdens, farming, culture—it’s all in everyday writings and letters. These firsthand accounts show us what life was really like.

The people writing this stuff probably didn’t think it was important, or even bother saving it. But it was on paper. Physical. It didn’t need some company or technology to survive. Empires came and went, but the paper stuck around. It could rot, sure, but even trivial bits had a shot at making it to us centuries later.

Today, everything’s centralized. Your messages, writings, photos—they’re on your phone, your computer, or some company’s server.

How long will your phone’s data last? Maybe your lifetime, if you are lucky. How much survives after switching devices? And a lifetime later, will those old devices even work?

Server data? You’re at the mercy of whoever runs it. Company goes bust, service shuts down? Your data’s probably gone. Businesses don’t have to keep it. The good ones might let you export it, but who actually does that? And stores it safely? Things change fast. This could all happen before you die. A lot of your digital life could just vanish.

Ironic, isn’t it? I made this point years ago, tried to find the post, and… poof. Gone. Had to rewrite it.

A century from now, official records—medical, ID, residency, education, taxes—might prove you existed. But your life story? Your passions? The ups and downs? Future historians might find a big, blank nothing.

Reconstructing our time could get tricky. The big, official stuff will be there, but firsthand accounts of daily life? Slim pickings.

Electronic media made information spread like wildfire, but also made it incredibly fragile. Here today, gone tomorrow.

The Discovery of Conservation of Energy

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 13 Mar 2020 14:51:00 +0000

I read a fascinating story from the history of science. We’re all familiar with the conservation of energy – how it shifts between forms without being lost. But the story of its discovery is truly inspiring.

It began with mechanical energy. Consider a swing: potential energy converts to kinetic, and back again. Scientists, through experiments and calculations, found that the total energy remains constant.

Next came thermal energy. While people understood mass conservation, heat’s true nature was a mystery. One theory proposed heat as a kind of substance, massless yet capable of flowing between objects. This explained everyday observations, like mixing hot and cold water: the “heat substance” flowed, creating lukewarm water.

However, friction could generate seemingly endless heat, simply by rubbing things together. This “heat substance” appeared to materialize from nothing. This spurred investigation into the link between mechanical work and heat. Precise experiments and calculations of energy conversion finally led the scientific community to conclude that energy is conserved during mechanical-to-thermal conversions.

Around the same time, biologists suggested that animal heat and movement stemmed from food’s chemical energy. Chemists added to this, demonstrating energy conservation in chemical reactions.

Then came electromagnetism. Lenz, studying heat in current-carrying wires, found it depended on the current’s square, resistance, and time – Joule-Lenz’s law. Calculations revealed that electrical-to-thermal energy conversion is also conserved.

These discoveries occurred almost simultaneously. Different fields contributed their pieces, and when combined, revealed the true nature of energy. It was like magicians jointly casting a spell, opening a portal to a dazzling new world.

Notes on Sapiens - A Brief History of Humankind

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sat, 21 Dec 2019 18:13:39 +0000

I. Gathering

The Rise of Homo Sapiens

In biology, “human” extends beyond just us. It refers to the genus Homo. We, Homo sapiens, are simply the last ones standing. Neanderthals, Homo erectus, and others were humans too.
The earliest humans emerged in East Africa around 2.5 million years ago. They migrated to Eurasia, evolving into distinct human species.
Homo erectus in East Asia had the longest run, surviving from 2 million to 50,000 years ago. We, Homo sapiens, only appeared around 150,000 years ago.
On the island of Flores, a human species once existed that weighed no more than 40 kilograms. Humans arrived when sea levels were low. Later, the water rose, isolating them. Resources were scarce, so smaller bodies became advantageous, and the trait persisted.
Neanderthals actually possessed larger brains than we do.
Our brains constitute 2-3% of our body weight but consume 25% of our energy at rest. Other apes use only about 8%.
Humans used tools early on, but for a long time, we weren’t at the top of the food chain. Early stone tools were often used to crack open bones for marrow. Humans often waited for predators to finish before scavenging the leftovers.
Humans only reached the top with the rise of Homo sapiens.
Around 300,000 years ago, Homo erectus, Neanderthals, and Homo sapiens were already skillfully using fire for light, heat, and as a weapon. They even learned to burn forests to collect animal carcasses and roast nuts and roots. Fire permanently transformed forests into grasslands, which were more suitable for humans.
Cooking with fire eased the burden on the human digestive system, allowing more energy for the brain. Neanderthals and Homo sapiens evolved larger brain sizes.
Homo sapiens left Africa 70,000 years ago, migrating worldwide and encountering other human species in Eurasia. Homo sapiens gradually replaced them. Whether this replacement was peaceful or violent remains unknown, but they weren’t entirely incompatible. Fossil DNA analysis reveals that modern human DNA contains a small amount of genes from other human species (less than 10%), suggesting some interbreeding.

The Cognitive Revolution

Between 70,000 and 30,000 years ago, Homo sapiens’ evolutionary trajectory changed dramatically, initiating the Cognitive Revolution.
Before the Cognitive Revolution, biological factors dominated evolution and determined lifestyles. Afterward, cultural factors took precedence.
Academics generally believe a genetic mutation altered Homo sapiens’ thinking, leading to a new language. This language was key to the massive shift.
During this period, Homo sapiens invented boats, bows and arrows, and sewing needles, formed social hierarchies, and developed trade, religion, and art.
Homo sapiens sites from 30,000 years ago contain objects clearly not local, indicating inter-tribal trade. Neanderthal sites show no such evidence. Only Homo sapiens could understand and engage in trade.
However, trade at that time involved symbolic items representing status, not food, resources, or tools. Each tribe remained self-sufficient, unlike trade today.
What’s truly unique about Homo sapiens’ language is their ability to describe imaginary, non-existent things.
This ability allowed groups to share common imaginations, enabling cooperation between strangers. This made humans the first species capable of expanding their group size without limit. Larger, more complex groups fostered more advanced social concepts.
Lying and imagining differ. Lying isn’t unique to humans; green monkeys also falsely signal danger to scare away rivals and monopolize food.
Imagination freed humans from the constraints of genetic evolution. Lifestyles could change continuously, even without environmental or genetic changes.
Homo sapiens tribes in the Cognitive Revolution stage developed diverse cultures. Tribes numbered around a few hundred people.
Homo sapiens at this stage were gatherers, nomadic, and moved frequently. They possessed few tools and weren’t heavily reliant on them.
Gatherers also settled in resource-rich areas, ceasing their migrations. Fishing villages, appearing around 45,000 years ago, were the earliest form of settled communities.
Dogs were the first domesticated animal, and the only one before the Agricultural Revolution, with domestic dogs existing 15,000 years ago. Dogs actively sought cooperation with humans.
Gatherers held animistic beliefs, meaning everything, including inanimate objects, possessed a spirit. All spirits were equal, and humans could communicate with them in specific ways.
Homo sapiens reached Australia 45,000 years ago. This was significant as the first time Homo sapiens ventured outside the Afro-Asian ecosystem.
The arrival of Homo sapiens triggered a mass extinction of native Australian species. Besides hunting, Homo sapiens altered the landscape through fire. Fire-resistant eucalyptus trees unexpectedly gained a survival advantage, spreading widely, and koalas benefited.
Homo sapiens’ learning ability facilitated rapid adaptation to different environments. Each migration brought changes in lifestyle, tools, and diet. When sea levels were low, Homo sapiens migrated along Siberia to Alaska, then swept across North and South America. Other human species, even cold-resistant Neanderthals, couldn’t penetrate Siberia’s -50°C temperatures.

II. Agriculture

The Agricultural Revolution

Homo sapiens initiated the Agricultural Revolution 12,000 years ago.
90% of the species providing calories for modern humans were domesticated between 9500 and 3500 BC, becoming livestock and crops.
The shift from gathering to producing societies can’t be explained by increased knowledge. Producers’ lives were harder, with less varied diets. Malnutrition and agricultural labor led to physical ailments. Homo sapiens’ bodies weren’t adapted for farm work. Gatherers were healthier.
Agriculture was also less resilient to risks. Natural disasters affecting a few crops or livestock were devastating. Gathering societies, with diverse food sources, could largely offset losses.
It’s more accurate to say that species like wheat, rice, and corn exploited humans, forming a symbiotic relationship and spreading globally with human assistance.
Today, wheat covers about 2.25 million square kilometers worldwide, nearly 10 times the size of the UK.
In gathering societies, abundant resources led to earlier births and higher survival rates; scarcity led to later births and lower survival rates. Nature regulated population; tribe size wasn’t determined by Homo sapiens’ will.
The Agricultural Revolution wasn’t a voluntary choice, but it crucially broke nature’s population control. Homo sapiens simply needed more land. This change, while not necessarily benefiting individuals, accelerated Homo sapiens’ expansion, and agricultural societies became dominant due to their population advantage.
The transition from gathering to producing was subtle, without a clear boundary. Gatherer tribes might migrate to areas with wheat, harvest it, and then gather and hunt elsewhere. Transporting wheat and burning forests expanded wheat’s range. Each time they returned, they spent more time harvesting. Eventually, they realized they no longer needed to migrate and settled down. Their livelihoods gradually revolved around wheat, transforming the settlement into a producer society.
Another possibility, supported by evidence, is that agricultural societies began as a deliberate choice by a few tribes. Göbekli Tepe in Turkey was built by a gatherer tribe around 9500 BC. Stonehenge in England was built by a prosperous farming tribe around 2500 BC. Stonehenge was a monumental feat, indicating that the Göbekli tribe completed a project far exceeding their productive capacity.
Stonehenge had no practical function. Göbekli Tepe’s creators must have possessed a highly developed belief system. Perhaps this belief system made their demand for grain far exceed survival needs, forcing the tribe to choose farming.
One variety of the first domesticated wheat originated just 30 kilometers from Göbekli Tepe. This is likely no coincidence; they were likely the first Homo sapiens tribe to cultivate wheat.
The emergence of nomadic societies was similar. These tribes primarily domesticated animals, not plants. Domestication took two forms: selectively hunting, protecting, and controlling wild animal populations, forming a symbiotic relationship through increased contact; or capturing a few wild animals and raising them, gradually increasing their numbers until they became a distinct livestock population.
The evolution of crops and livestock was undoubtedly successful in terms of DNA continuation. However, this differs from natural symbiosis, where both species retain evolutionary choices and can counterbalance each other. The natural evolution of domesticated species ceased, evolving artificially only in directions beneficial to humans. This evolution was detrimental to the species themselves.

Stepping onto the Illusory Path

The Agricultural Revolution led to widespread human settlement, using buildings, fences, and other structures to draw a line between themselves and nature. This also drew a line in human consciousness. Humans began to isolate themselves, heading irreversibly toward detachment from nature and the physical world.
Human capabilities grew, and with more to control, came more worries. Time became increasingly scarce, and there was a growing need to eliminate nature’s uncertainties, reinforcing settled life. All of civilization unfolded from this.
Farmers planned for the future to cope with nature’s complexities and ensure survival. But they couldn’t foresee that the surplus from overproduction would create an elite class and develop states, armies, and churches. The oppressed farmers’ wish for a comfortable life remained unfulfilled, and their role in history was often overlooked.
Moreover, resource abundance couldn’t prevent conflict. Peaceful coexistence and cooperation required agreement on imagined rules of order. The Code of Hammurabi and the American Declaration of Independence served the same function. Laws, human rights, money, and marriage are all based on shared imagination and don’t physically exist.
People don’t perceive anything wrong with living in an imagined order for several key reasons:
1. They are deeply integrated with life and connected to our social environment.
2. Imagination shapes our desires and guides us.
3. The imagined order exists in the connections between people. As long as most believe, individual dissent has no effect.

Freeing Memory

Imagination enabled large-scale human cooperation, initiating exponential development. But another limitation needed overcoming: memory. As populations grew and societies became more complex, some imagined orders became too complex for a single human brain, easily lost or distorted across generations.
Human brains aren’t good at remembering numbers, a concept absent in nature. Complex societies require remembering large numbers, hindering the further development of imagined orders.
Only around 3500-3000 BC did the Sumerians begin using writing to record information, processing some information outside the brain and overcoming the memory bottleneck.
The earliest written information discovered is an accounting record detailing the quantity of barley.
Writing at that time couldn’t fully express meaning or convey all information. It was limited to specific fields, like accounting, similar to today’s musical notation.
Quipu was such a writing system. The Inca civilization used it for data recording, although they also had writing capable of fully expressing meaning. After the Spanish conquest, they continued using quipu for a while. Because only the Incas could read and write it, data authenticity couldn’t be controlled, so it was eventually replaced with Latin and numbers.
Between 3000 and 500 BC, ancient civilizations worldwide created writing systems capable of fully expressing meaning. But only Sumer, ancient Egypt, ancient China, and the Inca developed brilliant civilizations. This was because only they discovered efficient methods for organizing and retrieving written information and assigned specialized personnel to copy and manage these materials.
Detailed data management methods differ greatly from how the human brain operates, requiring strong logical, rational, and abstract abilities. Individuals in this profession underwent rigorous training to adapt to this new way of thinking. Thus, rationality took root in human society.
Rational thinking developed rapidly. The invention of Arabic numerals further accelerated data storage and expression efficiency. It also became a cross-cultural common language, although it can only express meaning partially.

Hierarchical Society

Although imagined reality and writing enabled large-scale human collaboration, ensuring its stability inevitably required sacrificing equality, resulting in hierarchical societies.
The degree varies, and hierarchies are divided differently: gender, age, wealth, lineage, belief, etc. Except for the male-female distinction, one thing remains constant: all other hierarchies lack a physical basis. Each hierarchical system justifies its basis with some “naturally existing” law.
Hierarchy simplifies interactions between strangers. When encountering strangers of the same, higher, or lower hierarchy, one knows how to behave without needing extensive knowledge. Setting aside moral judgments, hierarchical societies improved social operational efficiency.
India’s caste system, divided into four types by the Aryan invasion, has evolved into approximately 3000 “jatis” (births) today. Any new occupation or group must be classified into a hierarchy; otherwise, society won’t recognize it. Although the Indian government promotes equality, the caste concept remains deeply ingrained.
American slave society chose blacks as slaves, not South Asians or others, for three reasons:
1. Convenient transatlantic transportation.
2. The pre-existing, mature African slave trade.
3. African immunity to tropical diseases like malaria, a crucial factor for colonial plantation owners.
The hierarchical phenomenon produced by gender is unique. It’s the only division method common to all hierarchical societies, and almost all favor men.
The causes of gender bias are often subtle, making it difficult to determine whether the initial, fundamental reason is physiological differences or cultural preferences. Objectively, it should be understood this way: nature’s possibilities are endless; it only allows, it can, but it is not necessary; cultural concepts have clear boundaries: this must be chosen, that is also possible, but unnatural and should be prevented. Of course, “natural” here doesn’t represent natural evolution but habitual cognition in theological and moral concepts.
Civilizations worldwide eventually trended toward patriarchal societies, suggesting a common cause. However, neither physical strength, aggression, nor survival strategies of the two genders can rigorously explain this outcome, and many counterexamples exist. There’s no definitive conclusion yet.

III. Unification

The General Direction of History

Culture is influenced by environmental changes when shaping society and history. Even in complete isolation, culture isn’t static; internal dynamics drive change.
The concept of culture is so broad that it inevitably contains contradictions. People’s attempts to unify these contradictions lead to cultural change.
History has a definite general direction. Over long timescales, it consistently tends toward unification. Isolated civilizations eventually exchange cultures. While they retain unique characteristics, these differences are insignificant compared to the overall unification.
In 10,000 BC, thousands of civilizations existed on Earth. By 2000 BC, they had merged into a few hundred to two or three thousand. Around 1450 AD, the Age of Exploration began, and the Afro-Asian civilization, comprising 90% of the world’s population, rapidly engulfed other isolated civilizations. It successively incorporated the Aztecs of Mesoamerica, the Oceanic world of the Southwest Pacific, the Inca of South America, and Australia.
Tasmanian civilization exemplifies this. It’s an island south of Australia. People migrated there when sea levels were low, and then rising waters isolated them. For millennia, it became an isolated civilization, completely unaware of other civilizations.
Tasmania was the last independent civilization to be absorbed. Since then, all of humanity has adopted a common geopolitical system, economic system, legal system, and scientific system.
These seem natural today, but the world’s cultural exchange didn’t have only this one possible outcome. The world didn’t form several distinct civilizations and then diverge further. From this perspective, globalization is remarkable.
A typical manifestation of cultural exchange is the spread of food. Most so-called traditional foods worldwide use ingredients not native to the area, some even originating from the other side of the world.
Humans are the only species concerned with collective interests. Yet, before globalization, each civilization had clear geographical and psychological boundaries. Only those within were considered “their own people,” and they disregarded the interests of others.
Commerce, imperial conquest, and religious spread broke down these boundaries, initiating the equal treatment of all humans.

Commercial Unification

Improved transportation infrastructure allowed populations to concentrate and form towns. Professionals in specific fields had a large enough market to support themselves and completely detach from agricultural life.
Simultaneously, small villages discovered survival possibilities beyond self-sufficiency. They began utilizing local natural resources, leveraging comparative advantages to specialize in producing a few goods, and exchanging them for all other necessities instead of producing everything themselves.
Lifestyle changes led to a significant increase in trade demand and volume. The limitations of bartering became apparent: difficulty in conversion without standards and ensuring mutual demand for each other’s goods.
Money isn’t the sole solution. Centralized supply and unified distribution, such as planned economies, are alternatives. The Inca Empire once used a system with these characteristics, and it was quite successful.
However, money remains the most widely used solution. Around 4,000 years ago, Africa, South Asia, East Asia, and Oceania all used shells as currency.
Until the early 20th century, British Uganda accepted shells as tax payment.
Places lacking money spontaneously developed currencies. For instance, cigarettes often serve as currency in prisons and concentration camps.
Interestingly, in the medieval Christian world, besides issuing coins with Christian elements, coins with Islamic elements were also minted for Muslim use. Conversely, the Muslim world minted coins with Christian elements. No one considered this a violation of religious doctrine.
This is the magic of money. It’s universally accepted, carrying no political, cultural, or value preferences. Even with cultural elements printed on it, it remains absolutely neutral.
Ideal money should be stable, non-perishable, easy to store, and easy to transport.
Money relies on mutual trust. The earliest money lacked widespread trust, so it needed intrinsic value. Sumerian barley money, the earliest monetary system, appeared around 3000 BC, contemporaneous with writing. Barley money used a fixed amount of barley grains as a standard of measurement.
A fixed amount is crucial, so early currency development always accompanied the development of weights and measures. The most common unit of currency used by the Sumerians was the sila, approximately equal to one liter today. Standard-capacity bowls were produced for accurate measurement during transactions.
Around 2500 BC, money began to shed the limitations of practical value. People recognized the importance of convenience and shifted to using items with no practical value but easy storage and transport as money. This was the silver shekel system of Mesopotamia.
The silver shekel wasn’t a standard-shaped coin, but silver of a specific weight. Only the weight mattered, regardless of form.
Then, in 640 BC, money began to be further standardized. The kingdom of Lydia in western Turkey minted the first coins in history, indicating the issuer and material composition.
This simplified transactions. People no longer needed to weigh gold and silver ingots; they could simply count the coins. They also didn’t need to worry as much about identifying counterfeits.
More importantly, money became linked to political power. This was the earliest fiat currency. Because the tax system relied heavily on money, the connection between politics and money strengthened, becoming increasingly inseparable.
The Roman denarius is a prime example. Due to ancient Rome’s strength, even areas outside its political influence, like distant India, accepted its currency. This demonstrates that political influence determines currency influence.
From another perspective, currency influence always precedes political influence. With money paving the way, human unification accelerated significantly. Through inter-civilizational exchange, the world gradually adopted a monetary system based on gold and silver.
Why did the monetary system unify? This is determined by supply and demand. Thinking of money as a commodity makes it clear. If people in one place aren’t interested in gold and silver, merchants will purchase large quantities of local gold and silver and transfer them to other markets. This arbitrage behavior levels gold and silver prices globally, standardizing the currency’s value.
Because money can be exchanged for anything and is universally trusted, it naturally tends to marketize everything. However, what makes humans human is the belief that many things cannot be measured by money. The tug-of-war between these two forces maintains societal balance.

Cultural Unification

Empires have two key characteristics: a combination of multiple independent ethnic groups and a variable territory. Other factors like size, polity, and reliance on military conquest are irrelevant.
These two characteristics allowed empires to connect increasingly diverse cultures under a single polity, significantly reducing civilizational diversity and promoting human unification.
Modern critics view empires as inefficient in governance, exploitative, oppressive, and brutal. However, history shows that for the past 2500 years, the empire has been the most stable and widely accepted political form.
A major innovation of the imperial system was conceptually breaking down cultural boundaries. Rulers often aspired to conquer the world and regarded subjugated peoples as part of their civilization. The ruling ethnic group held privileges, but to a certain extent, they still considered the subjugated peoples. Civilization thus tore down the ideological walls of exclusion.
The imperial system isn’t unique. Civilizations worldwide independently developed it, an inevitable stage of cultural evolution. Once a unified empire forms, even if it declines and splits, the various ethnic groups won’t be content with self-governance; reunification is only a matter of time.
Independence and freedom are modern concepts. For a long time, strong imperial dynasties were praised. Unification represented stability and prosperity, the ideal society in people’s minds.
Cultural dissemination within an empire is much easier than cross-cultural dissemination. Coupled with rulers often deliberately promoting a specific culture, although primarily for their own convenience, the speed of cultural exchange accelerated greatly.
Although the ruling ethnic group has the greatest influence, cultural exchange isn’t a one-way output of their culture. They themselves constantly absorb the cultures of other ethnic groups.
Cultural integration is arduous. For conquered peoples, their civilization is destroyed, and they’re excluded from the mainstream culture; yet, they cannot immediately assimilate the ruling group’s culture. Thus, they remain marginalized within the empire for a long time, lacking true recognition. Residents of the political center looking down on regional accents is a typical manifestation.
To gain equal status, ruled peoples actively embrace the mainstream culture, gradually infiltrating the ruling class and jointly promoting cultural evolution. The ruling ethnic group itself loses its uniqueness, eventually merging completely, making it impossible to distinguish between them.
Once such a civilization forms, it’s beyond the ruling ethnic group’s control. Even if the empire perishes, the culture lives on. Various ethnic groups continue the civilization, create new empires, and absorb more cultures.
This trend continues today, blurring boundaries between modern countries. When addressing global issues like economics, the environment, and law, governments must cooperate more closely. Multinational corporations, multilateral cooperation organizations, and regional economic entities are prime examples, and countries are merging in a non-political form.

Religious Unification

Social order is built on human imagination. People know it’s self-created and thus changeable, making it fragile. Religion is a unique order. People believe it’s created by a power beyond humans, an unchangeable truth. Therefore, the religious order is very stable and plays a crucial role in human unification.
Religions capable of this have two characteristics: treating all humans equally and proselytizing. Such religions only gradually appeared around 1000 BC. Most religions in history were regional and exclusive.
In the ancient era of animism, the deities people believed in originated from the local natural environment, such as sacred trees, stones, and birds. Natural environments differ globally. Even if this belief spreads, it’s ineffective elsewhere.
Although humans at this time consumed other species, they still believed all beings were equal, could communicate spiritually, and shared a habitat.
Entering the agricultural era, humans’ control over other species increased significantly, and they were no longer treated as equals conceptually but as possessions. However, humans lacked complete control. Crops could fail, and livestock could sicken. A major theory posits that deities were the channel for humans to address this. Worship deities and let them provide care.
With societal development and population concentration, problems became more complex, and people attributed greater abilities to gods. Gods with limited, specific abilities gradually lost their status.
Animism evolved into polytheism in the later stage. Like the religions of ancient Greece and Egypt, there were gods responsible for fertility, climate, and war, with a detailed division of labor to meet all aspects of civilization. Deities were no longer equal to humans but became superior beings.
Polytheism could address larger problems, but animism remained effective among commoners, who still faced everyday issues.
The power of gods grew, and the status of humans in religious concepts also rose. In animism, humans are just one of many creatures. In polytheism, humans have significant decision-making power over the world. Blessings and disasters are determined by human prayers, sacrifices, and daily activities.
It’s not only monotheistic gods that are supreme. Polytheism also has this role. It represents the ultimate law of the world, embodied as a deity above the gods or a fate even gods cannot escape. But this cold ultimate law has no reason to care about human activities. People worship it without benefit, still worshipping gods with specific functions.
Polytheism is more tolerant and gentle than monotheism. People believe in many different gods simultaneously and readily accept the existence of gods in other religions. Two different polytheistic religions almost never conflict and can coexist peacefully. The religion of the ancient Romans absorbed deities from Asia and Egypt.
Christianity’s situation in ancient Rome differed greatly. Because it didn’t recognize the guardian deities of ancient Rome or the emperor’s divinity, it was considered political rebellion and suppressed. However, this suppression pales in comparison to the persecution among Christians in later generations and the persecution of other religions and atheism by Christianity.
In early monotheism, God wasn’t an omniscient, omnipotent, perfect being. It still possessed selfishness and preferences, like in polytheism. For example, Judaism believes God protects only the Jewish people and their territory, lacking any meaning or motivation for proselytizing.
The mainstream monotheistic religions today believe in a single, all-powerful God. They deem the gods with only partial abilities in polytheism unbelievable and incapable of representing the world’s truth. Therefore, they naturally reject other religions and are extremely aggressive. Polytheism’s gentleness led to its defeat in the competition.
But just as animism persisted within polytheism, polytheism transformed and continued within monotheism. Most people still have various secular needs, and the lesser gods retain a market. Even with widespread acceptance of monotheism, various regions and occupations still worship their own unique gods or saints. Many of these originate from previous religions, easily transformed and integrated into the new monotheistic system.
Besides monotheism, some dualistic religions emerged and prevailed for millennia. These religions believe in two opposing gods, such as good and evil. Neither side can completely suppress the other, and they jointly determine the world’s operation. The religion of the Persian Empire belonged to this type.
Dualistic religion addresses the problem monotheism struggles to explain: the origin of evil. But it raises new questions: What law governs the two opposing forces?
Although dualistic religion was defeated by monotheism, its ideas persisted. Various monotheistic religions often feature figures like Satan, who are not controlled by God and oppose Him. How can a purely monotheistic religion allow such a figure to exist within its doctrine?
Dualistic religion also distinguishes between matter and spirit, body and soul, believing matter and body are evil, while spirit and soul are good. This idea has been retained in monotheism because it helps explain the origin of evil.
None of these dualistic views actually appeared in the Old Testament.
What we consider monotheism today is a fusion of characteristics from animism, polytheism, dualism, and other religions. Like cultural fusion, it’s contradictory yet unified. Religion has a term for this: syncretism.
Religion isn’t solely about gods and supernatural forces. Many religions worship a natural law. Even if gods exist in these religions, they must still follow the natural law. Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism fall into this category.
Buddhism is a prime example. Although Shakyamuni himself was deified by later generations, Buddhism worships the natural law he realized, not his supreme divine power.
Of course, the vast majority of believers cannot attain this state. People still need solutions to various secular problems. Buddhism has developed numerous gods, Buddhas, and Bodhisattvas worldwide, incorporating polytheistic characteristics.
The concept of religion extends further, abstracting into belief, and the scope covered broadens. Concepts like nationalism and capitalism aren’t fundamentally different from religion.
Religious beliefs worship gods, while humanistic beliefs worship the human species, believing humans are fundamentally different from other species, determine the meaning of everything in the universe, and all principles of action should be based on human interests.
Humanistic beliefs are divided into three types. Liberal humanism advocates freedom and human rights, believing the individual is sacred and everyone’s inner freedom should be protected; social humanism advocates equality, believing inequality means certain external factors have surpassed the essence of human beings, which is unacceptable; evolutionary humanism advocates progress, believing human individuals are neither sacred nor equal, can evolve or degenerate, and should be subject to survival of the fittest.
The ideological sources of the first two stem from the same monotheistic concept, believing humans possess a free and immortal soul, which in atheistic terms is an unchanging inner essence. All our concepts of freedom, democracy, and political and judicial systems today are built on this. As for evolutionary humanism, it has been unable to recover after the defeat of the Nazis, and subsequent scientific developments have also disproven it.
However, life science research is gradually eroding the ideological foundations of the first two. Increasing evidence suggests that the soul and free will don’t exist. The foundation of modern politics and justice is shaken, but people choose to ignore it.

Nothing is Inevitable

Using our understanding as later generations to interpret history, we can often find numerous explanations and supporting evidence for how humans reached the present. But we cannot verify other historical possibilities. If history had taken a different path, we could still find ample evidence to support it.
History is a second-order chaotic system. A first-order chaotic system means that prediction doesn’t affect the outcome, like weather. In a second-order chaotic system, prediction does change the outcome.
History cannot rule out possibilities; it can only prove them.
History doesn’t develop for human benefit. Even if we believe we have sufficient ability to make the world develop in a direction beneficial to us, the long-term results may not be as we desire.
Memetics posits that cultural patterns are like genes. Although lacking autonomy, they have their own interests. They use humans as carriers for spread and replication. As long as it aids its spread throughout society, it’s beneficial to it. The interests of humans as carriers are irrelevant.
In social science, game theory offers a similar view. Although certain behavior patterns harm the interests of all parties, everyone ultimately chooses them, and they possess a means of survival. The arms race between countries is a good example.

IV. Science

A Cognitive Awakening

Admitting Ignorance

Between 1500 and the 21st century, the global population grew 14-fold, production 240-fold, and energy consumption 115-fold.
The 1969 moon landing marked the first time life on Earth left the atmosphere—a monumental evolutionary milestone.
Before the Scientific Revolution, societies mobilized resources merely to maintain the status quo. Social progress wasn’t yet a goal.
Modern science differs from earlier knowledge systems in three key ways:
1. A willingness to admit ignorance. Old knowledge could be disproven; absolute authority no longer exists.
2. An emphasis on evidence and mathematics. Patterns are discovered through observation and calculation.
3. Using findings to transform society. Science isn’t just about knowledge; it develops technologies and products, driving social change.
Ancient knowledge systems relied on a god or sage who knew everything. For big questions, you’d ask the wise. Trivial matters weren’t worth the gods’ or sages’ time, and no one probed deeper. Since important questions had answers, verification or further inquiry seemed unnecessary.
In modern science, no single person or theory claims complete knowledge. But if nothing is absolutely correct, how does society function? Two unscientific methods provide the answer:
1. Claiming a viewpoint is absolute truth.
2. Bypassing science with humanistic claims.
Although no scientific conclusion is 100% certain, people treat the scientific method as an absolute truth—almost a religious belief.
Ancient knowledge systems often used stories; modern science rests on mathematics.
Newton’s three laws of motion showed that simple math could describe and predict complex natural phenomena. Many disciplines followed. Though biology, economics, and psychology aren’t entirely mathematical, math spawned a new branch: statistics.
In 1744, two Scottish clergymen planned a life insurance fund, raising money from ministers for investment and family protection. They needed to calculate the fund’s size and estimate claim ratios and amounts. Theology offered no help; only statistics could.
Using probability calculations—a new statistical development—they accurately estimated the fund’s size from historical data, differing from the actual value by just one pound. This became the foundation of actuarial science and a key concept in demography.
Statistics, in turn, spurred the development of various social and natural sciences.
Since the Middle Ages, education’s core has shifted from logic, grammar, and rhetoric to mathematical language.

The Power of Science and Technology

Non-scientists are more concerned with practical applications. Scientific achievements empower humans; people firmly believe knowledge is power.
Science and technology were unrelated before 1500. Only from the 17th century onward did they become closely linked, even conflated. Today, it’s generally accepted that scientific knowledge drives social change, and research without practical value is often seen as pointless.
In the past, new technologies often arose from trial and error, accidental discoveries rather than systematic research.
War has spurred many scientific achievements. In WWI, breakthroughs led to weapons like tanks, breaking the trench warfare stalemate. In WWII, the atomic bomb revealed science’s power to the world.
Military technology only became significant recently. Before the 19th century, military changes were primarily organizational. Technology didn’t play a decisive role. Few focused on creating or expanding technological advantages.
The ancient Roman army was highly efficient, disciplined, and well-supplied. Even if time-traveling to fight Constantine 500 years later, they could hold their own. 500 years ago from now was the Ming Dynasty.
China invented gunpowder accidentally during alchemical experiments. Due to a disregard for technology, it was mainly used for firecrackers. Even with the Mongol army at the gates, no Song Dynasty emperor considered developing firearms. Cannons became decisive in war about 600 years after gunpowder’s invention.

Before the Scientific Revolution, most civilizations didn’t believe in progress. They thought things were deteriorating because they weren’t following ancient guidance.
Most religions predicted a savior who would solve all problems. Myths like the Tower of Babel, Icarus, and the Golem warned that exceeding limits would bring disaster.
Science changed perspectives. Unsolved problems simply lacked a method.
Lightning, in most cultures, was seen as God’s wrath. Franklin’s lightning rod, defusing divine anger, significantly impacted old beliefs.
Poverty was often viewed as inevitable. Today, we generally believe that biological poverty can be eliminated.

Challenging Death

Civilizations have always considered death inevitable, with many religions viewing it as life’s meaning.
In the Sumerian myth of Gilgamesh, the king’s close friend died. He stayed by the body until maggots appeared. Gilgamesh then vowed to conquer death. He journeyed to the world’s end, defeated enemies, and reached the underworld. After much hardship, he failed, realizing death was unconquerable and must be accepted.
Today, this problem is broken down into many specific technical challenges.
Today’s medical standards were unimaginable to earlier generations. In 1199, Richard the Lionheart died two weeks after a shoulder wound because the infection spread. Today, it would be a minor flesh wound.
Even in the 19th century, soldiers with minor injuries needed amputation to prevent gangrene. After Waterloo, piles of limbs appeared beside the field hospital. Carpenters and butchers often performed these amputations.
Before the 20th century, 1/4 to 1/3 of children in agricultural societies died before adulthood.
In 17th-century England, 15% of newborns died before age one, and 1/3 of children died before fifteen. Today, the figures are 5‰ and 7‰, respectively.
King Edward I of England and his queen were healthy. None of their sons lived to inherit the throne until the 16th child, Edward II. Four sons and six daughters died young.

Society’s Support for Science

Substantial financial support from politics and business drives scientific development. However, this support is often utilitarian.
Different civilizations in different eras show clear biases in research funding. Scientists often don’t determine the course of scientific development.
Science itself can’t judge which research areas are most important. Politics, economics, and religion can.
Understanding a scientific achievement requires studying not only the scientists involved but also the social context—the ideological, political, and economic forces of the time.

Interaction with Politics

Science and Empire

During the geocentric vs. heliocentric debate, people hoped to use the transit of Venus for verification. Observing it from different locations on Earth yields varying durations, allowing accurate calculation of the Sun-Earth distance using trigonometry.
The two transits of Venus at that time were in 1761 and 1769. The 1769 transit was particularly significant.
Most observation points were on continents: Siberia, North America, Madagascar, South Africa. The British Royal Society wanted a South Pacific point, so they funded an expedition led by Captain Cook to Tahiti, equipped with advanced instruments.
Besides observing Venus, the expedition brought back a wealth of astronomical, geographical, meteorological, botanical, zoological, and anthropological data to England in 1771.
At that time, scurvy often killed half the crew on voyages, and the cause was unknown. In 1747, a doctor proved that citrus fruits could cure scurvy. Sailors usually ate only biscuits and dried beef, lacking vitamin C.
Captain Cook carried sauerkraut and ordered sailors to eat fresh fruits and vegetables at every landfall. Consequently, not a single sailor died of scurvy—a naval first. Within a decade, this method was widely adopted by navies.
This voyage wasn’t just scientific. Cook was a naval officer; the Navy sponsored the ship and soldiers. They claimed land for Britain wherever they went, laying the groundwork for British occupation of Australia, New Zealand, and Tasmania.
Modern civilization brought disaster to Australian Aborigines, reducing their population by 90%. Most Tasmanian Aborigines were exterminated. The few survivors were sent to concentration camps. The Tasmanians refused to assimilate, stopped reproducing, and became extinct. The remains of the last few were studied and exhibited for a long time. A century later, their body parts were returned and buried.
To those involved, science and empire were inseparable.

The Rise of Europe

Europe only became a major historical player in the late 15th century. Even by 1775, Asia accounted for 80% of the global economy, with India and China comprising 2/3 of global production.
The 18th and 19th-century wars shifted the global power center to Europe. In 1950, Western Europe and the United States accounted for over half of global production, while China had only 5%.
European civilization established a new global order. Today’s global clothing, ideas, aesthetics, and political and economic systems largely stem from European exports.
Europe’s technological lead only emerged around 1850. However, European maritime dominance began much earlier. European countries strove to catch up with advanced technology, while other civilizations remained indifferent.
The key difference was mindset; other civilizations lacked Western values, judicial systems, and social structures. These ideas took centuries to develop in the West. Other civilizations couldn’t adopt them overnight.
Almost all major 19th and 20th-century scientific breakthroughs came from Europe. European civilization craved exploration, believing that new discoveries could make them world masters.
European empires differed fundamentally from others. Other civilizations conquered to spread values and gather resources. European empires also conquered for knowledge.
Long before Cook, Portuguese and Spanish navigators in the 15th and 16th centuries held this view, discovering and conquering along the way.
Later, exploration and conquest became intertwined. By the 18th and 19th centuries, almost every military expedition included scientists. Napoleon brought 165 scholars to Egypt in 1798. This group even established Egyptology.
In 1831, the British Royal Navy sent a ship to survey South America’s coast for future naval advantage. The captain, an amateur scientist, wanted a geologist to study formations along the way. 22-year-old Darwin joined. While the captain drew military maps, Darwin conceived his theory of evolution.
Shortly before Armstrong and Aldrin landed on the moon, Apollo 11 astronauts trained in the western US desert. Legend says they met local Native Americans, and an old man asked their purpose. They explained they were part of a moon expedition. The old man asked them to deliver a message to the moon spirits. He spoke in his native language, which the astronauts memorized without knowing its meaning. Back at base, a translator revealed the message: “No matter what these people tell you, don’t believe them. They’re just here to steal your land.”

The Evolution of Maps

Before understanding global geography, all civilizations had maps. Unknown areas were omitted or filled with imaginary monsters and wonders. They only cared about their controlled world.
In the 15th and 16th centuries, blank spaces appeared on European world maps, indicating an acceptance of the unknown.
Columbus’s map in 1492 didn’t include America or the Pacific, nor did it have blanks. He aimed to reach East Asia, mistaking North America for India.
Europeans at the time wouldn’t have considered the map wrong. The Bible only mentioned Africa, Asia, and Europe; could a world exist that the Bible didn’t know? Columbus died believing he hadn’t erred.
Italian sailor Amerigo Vespucci first suggested America was a new continent. In 1507, cartographer Martin Waldseemüller published a new world map based on Amerigo’s theory. Mistakenly believing Amerigo was the discoverer, he named it America.
North and South America, 1/4 of the world’s land, are named after an obscure Italian. He did one thing right: daring to say, “We don’t know.”
The New World’s discovery fueled European curiosity and conquest. It also proved ancient knowledge’s limitations. Blank spaces appeared on world maps, constantly being filled and refined through exploration.
The map blanks drove Europeans to explore the New World, filling them in. In the 15th and 16th centuries, Europe’s trade network connected the world, and it began integrating human civilization.
We take European conquest for granted, but it’s unique. No other civilization would conquer a distant, non-threatening one. Ancient empires were, essentially, local affairs.
Although Zheng He’s voyages were earlier and larger, they never attempted conquest or cultural export to connect civilizations. The technical and geographical knowledge gained had little impact.

Unfamiliar Invaders

When the Spanish destroyed the Aztec and Inca empires, these two American empires were unaware of each other.
Even within the Aztec Empire, information was limited. The Spanish occupied Caribbean islands in 20 years, enslaving the natives. Harsh conditions or disease nearly wiped them out, forcing the Spanish to import African slaves. When the Spanish landed in Mexico, the mainland Aztecs were oblivious to Caribbean events.
The Aztecs believed they knew the whole world; the Spanish arrival was as shocking as aliens.
The Aztec Empire’s hygiene far surpassed that of the Spanish; the Spanish had an unbearable odor. Locals sent people with incense to accompany them. The Spanish mistook this for honor.
Spanish ships, horses, guns, swords, and armor further shocked the Aztecs. Some thought they were gods, others demons, spirits, or sorcerers. The Aztecs were confused but didn’t immediately plan to eliminate them. They couldn’t fathom how powerful these 500-odd men could be, so they weren’t overly concerned.
The Spanish were equally ignorant of the Aztecs. However, they had experience conquering other civilizations and were prepared for the unknown.
The Spanish expedition, posing as envoys, reached the Aztec capital and met Montezuma II. They suddenly attacked, killing the guards, and the emperor became a prisoner.
Aztec civilization was highly centralized; the Spanish held the emperor hostage for months, training translators and gathering intelligence.
The Aztec elite eventually rebelled, electing a new emperor and temporarily expelling the Spanish. The Spanish, using gathered intelligence, exploited internal divisions and won over many subjects. Finally, with this force, they retook the capital.
More Spaniards arrived. When the Aztecs who helped capture the capital realized the truth, it was too late. They were forced to accept the greedier Spanish rule.
In this short century, the Native American population fell by 90%, mainly due to European diseases.
When the Europeans invaded the Inca Empire, there were fewer than 200 of them. Replicating the Aztec conquest methods, they toppled the Inca Empire.
It wasn’t just these two American civilizations that suffered from narrow-mindedness. The Ottoman Empire, Persia, the Mughal Empire, and China heard of major European discoveries but didn’t care. No empire planned to leave Asia to compete with Europe for America and the oceans.
The first non-European civilization to send troops to America was Japan, during WWII. A Japanese expeditionary force occupied two Alaskan islands, capturing 10 American soldiers and a dog.
America didn’t appear on Chinese maps until 1602, drawn by European missionaries.
For 300 years, Europeans dominated America, Australia, the Pacific, and the Atlantic, accumulating wealth and resources, and finally defeating the major Asian empires.
By the 20th century, non-European civilizations gained global consciousness, and European hegemony crumbled. Even with overwhelming advantages, European civilization could be defeated when attacking a small country. The Vietnam War is a prime example. Small countries learned to guide global opinion and ally with the enemy’s enemy.

Scientific Exploration During Conquest

Conquest and scientific research share a motivation: exploring and controlling the unknown. Their methods are also similar.
When Muslims conquered India, they didn’t research India’s culture, history, or nature. After the British conquered India, research lasted 60 years. Even Mount Everest’s precise height was measured then.
British research in India not only gathered information for ruling but also investigated rare spiders, lost languages, and forgotten ruins.
In the Indus Valley civilization, a large city once existed, called the Valley of Death in Hindi. It flourished in 3000 BC and was destroyed in 1900 BC. The later Mauryan Empire, Gupta Empire, Delhi Sultanate, and Mughal Empire ignored the story. A British archaeological team discovered and excavated it in 1922. It was India’s earliest great civilization.
Cuneiform was used in the Middle East for about 3,000 years. Around the 11th century, no one could read it. The natives didn’t try to decipher it. In 1618, the Spanish ambassador to Persia discovered cuneiform at ancient ruins. He inquired, but no one understood. News of the unknown script spread to Europe, arousing scholars’ curiosity, who began recording and deciphering efforts.
In the 1830s, British officer Henry Rawlinson was sent to Persia to train the army. He saw an inscription on a cliff, carved by Persian King Darius I in 500 BC. It used three cuneiform scripts: Old Persian, Elamite, and Babylonian, all unreadable. Rawlinson copied them and sent them to Europe. He deciphered part of Old Persian in his spare time, as it was relatively close to modern Persian. The door to cuneiform was opened.
William Jones went to India in 1783 as a judge of the Supreme Court of Bengal. Fascinated by India, he established the Asiatic Society to study Asian culture, history, and society, focusing on India. After two years studying Sanskrit, he noted its similarity to Greek and Latin. These languages were also consistent with Gothic, Celtic, Old Persian, German, French, and English. He first discovered the Indo-European language family.
Jones’s research was significant because it developed a systematic method for comparing languages—comparative linguistics. Other scholars could use this method to study language development worldwide.
European empires discovered linguistics’ benefits. Understanding local languages and cultures helped consolidate rule. For British officials in India, Indian languages, religions, and cultures were compulsory. These conquerors’ understanding of colonial culture often surpassed that of the locals.
Science could also rationalize the empire. They believed learning was inherently good, representing positivity and progress. Aggression found a justification: helping backward civilizations progress.
Of course, this wasn’t the reality. In 1764, the British conquered Bengal and levied excessive taxes. A great famine broke out, lasting four years. 1/3 of the region’s population died.
European empires brought advanced technology and better living conditions, but also exploitation and turmoil. The two were simultaneous and interdependent.
Many scientific achievements were used politically. Some linguistics and anthropology scholars gathered evidence to prove European superiority, justifying their rule. They found linguistic clues and proposed that Indian, Persian, Greek, and Roman civilizations were all Aryan creations. Anthropologists further proposed that Aryans were a biological race with an innate trait of diligence and progress. This evolved into racism.
Today, no one openly proposes racism. However, racial discrimination has become implicit cultural discrimination. Culturalism often attributes a nation’s achievements solely to its unique culture.
Refuting racism biologically is easy; there’s ample evidence. Refuting culturalism historically is harder.

Interaction with the Economy

The Vicious Cycle of a Stagnant Economy

For most of history, even if the overall economy grew, per capita output remained flat.
In 1500, average annual output per person was about $550. Today, it’s $8,800.
This doesn’t mean cash increased that much. Money can be deposited, lent out, circulated, re-deposited, and re-lent. The bank’s actual cash remains the same, but each loan provides funds. Loans promote business development. As long as there’s no bank run, the bank is safe.
Commercial banks profit by leveraging a small deposit interest cost to obtain larger loan interest income.
This resembles a Ponzi scheme, but it’s also a masterpiece of collective imagination. Even if depositors know the loan-to-deposit ratio principle, they trust the bank and don’t fear a run. The more people trust, the less likely a run.
The bank’s trust chain: Depositors trust the bank, believing they can cash out anytime. Banks trust borrowers to repay with interest. Trust in the future is banking’s foundation.
Before modern civilization, money could only buy existing things. Entrepreneurship invests in the future; without financial support, the economy struggles. Humanity was trapped in this dilemma for millennia, and economic levels stagnated.
Modern civilization uses credit as a form of money to develop production, advancing the future.
Past civilizations didn’t fail to recognize credit’s role or find ways to use it. The key difference is that people then didn’t believe the future would be better; they wanted to maintain the status quo. Ancient civilizations believed wealth was finite, would only deplete, and wouldn’t grow.
Therefore, they viewed the economy as a zero-sum game. If someone gets rich, someone else suffers; there’s no win-win. Many cultures believed making money was sinful, unfair to others.
Under the old concept, because credit had no value, there was no entrepreneurial environment, leading to long-term stagnation. People never thought the economy could grow, and the rich were unwilling to lend. This created a vicious cycle.

Breaking the Cycle

The Scientific Revolution introduced the concept of progress; invest in research, and everything can improve. This was quickly applied to the economy; people believed geographical discoveries, technological inventions, and organizational development could increase total wealth. Opening new areas wouldn’t erode old ones.
Progress fosters trust in the future; this trust creates credit. Credit brings real economic growth, further reinforcing trust. The economy enters a positive cycle.
Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations (1776) was based on this. Smith proposed that each person’s self-interest is the foundation of all wealth. As long as everyone maximizes profit, they create more wealth for society.
This overturned the zero-sum game concept; self-interest can be altruistic. It broke the long-standing opposition between wealth and morality.
This theory has a premise: profits must be reinvested to expand operations to benefit society. Thus, a new capitalist standard emerged: the rich should use income for social production.
People in the past didn’t think this way, believing production activities wouldn’t yield much profit. Medieval nobles advocated generosity and lavish consumption, spending all income on social, political, charitable, and religious activities.
Compared to past nobles, today’s capitalists’ consumption is a surprisingly small proportion of their income.
Not only the rich but also ordinary people are keen on investing and care about wealth appreciation. Government management also embraces this concept and aims for development.
Economic concepts began influencing education and values. Economic development has become an unquestionable truth, as influential as religion.
Conversely, economic concepts determine scientific development’s direction. Research contributing more to economic growth receives more support.
Science breakthroughs are the fundamental force behind economic prosperity. Simultaneously, banks and governments print money, hoping to fund more breakthroughs and create new industries to maintain growth momentum.

Economics and the Rise of European Civilization

European capitalism’s rise is closely linked to Asian economic development. Until the late 18th century, Asia was the global economic power. However, Asian regimes disregarded credit. Their conquests’ economic sources were often taxes and plunder.
European regimes had a business mindset, often ruled by bankers and merchants. Credit was the main economic source of European conquest; conquest became a public investment, with proceeds distributed to the public. The whole populace participated, greatly improving efficiency.
Asian expansion often impoverished the people and destabilized the regime. Asian expansion would collapse at a certain point. European rulers provided credit for merchant expeditions. The huge benefits made rulers trust them more and provide more credit. European expansion snowballed.
Not all investments yield generous returns. The British wasted money trying to find an Arctic route to Asia. The results were futile, and some expeditions never returned.
To increase investors and share risks, investment shifted from wealthy individuals to joint-stock companies.
Western Europe developed a complex financial system, raising large sums quickly. This was far more efficient than the ruling regime’s administrative power.
The Netherlands’ rise, replacing Spain and Portugal as maritime hegemon, stemmed from credit’s power. The Dutch weren’t interested in land warfare; they hired mercenaries to fight Spain, while they vigorously developed navigation.
The Dutch utilized the emerging financial system, repaid loans on time and in full, and maintained credit credibility. The Dutch judiciary was independent and protected individual rights, especially private property. Meanwhile, Spain and other European countries were destroying their credit systems. Kings often defaulted on loans, making fundraising increasingly difficult. Investors realized dealing with merchants was easier and more cost-effective.
Share trading spawned the world’s first stock exchange in the Netherlands.
The Dutch East India Company was a famous joint-stock company with a high return. It traded in Asia and funded military operations against rivals and pirates. It eventually conquered Indonesia.
In Indonesia, the East India Company initially engaged in normal trade. To protect its interests, it attacked local governments that raised tariffs and fought competitors. The merchant fleet’s military strength grew, equipped with cannons, mercenaries, and fortresses. The mercenary market was mature; a commercial company establishing an empire wasn’t surprising.
Simultaneously, the Dutch West India Company made strides in America. To control the Hudson River, a key channel, it established a colony on a small island at the river’s mouth, named New Amsterdam. The British eventually seized it, renaming it New York—today’s New York City.
The West India Company built a wall in New York to defend against the British and Native Americans. Today, it’s Wall Street.
After the Netherlands declined, Britain and France competed for its position. Initially, France had advantages. However, Britain ultimately won the financial system’s trust and became the winner.
In 1717, the French Mississippi Company developed a colony in the lower Mississippi River and established New Orleans. The owner, John Law, had close ties to the French court. He was the central bank’s governor and the French Comptroller General (equivalent to Finance Minister). He painted a rosy picture of the Mississippi Company. The lower Mississippi was mostly swamps, but he described it as full of gold and silver, with unlimited opportunities. The company’s stock soared, rising to 20 times its issue price.
Then, things took a sharp turn. As a few sober individuals began selling, the balance tipped, and the stock plummeted. To stabilize the price, John Law, as central bank governor, bought company stocks, exhausting the bank’s funds. Then, as Comptroller General, he ordered money printing to continue buying. Ultimately, the French central bank and treasury were left with worthless stocks, and the civilian economy suffered a catastrophe. This is the famous Mississippi Bubble.
After this bubble, the French royal family never recovered. The French lost confidence in their financial system, causing credit interest rates to rise. The royal family borrowed more foreign debt at higher rates. In the 1780s, King Louis XVI found half the annual budget went to interest payments. He was forced to convene the Estates-General, which hadn’t met for a century and a half, triggering the French Revolution.
France was overwhelmed, but Britain thrived, expanding wildly with capital’s power. The British East India Company’s achievements surpassed even those of the Dutch East India Company.

Politics Serving Capital

The First Opium War between China and Britain exemplifies this. The British East India Company profited immensely from selling opium to China. The Chinese government’s ban on opium threatened these profits. Merchants, closely connected to Parliament (many MPs and ministers held company shares), pressured the government, leading Britain to declare war.
By the late 19th century, China had roughly 40 million opium addicts, about 10% of the population.
Egypt’s situation was similar. In the 19th century, British and French investors loaned vast sums to Egyptian rulers for projects like the Suez Canal, and some less successful ventures. Egypt, deeply in debt, saw creditors increasingly meddling in its internal affairs. Egyptian nationalists rebelled, voiding all foreign debts. A year later, Queen Victoria went to war.
Beyond profiting from wars, war itself became a tradable commodity.
In 1821, Greeks revolted against the Ottoman Empire. British financiers saw an opportunity, proposing bonds on the London Stock Exchange to fund the Greek military. These “Greek rebellion bonds” fluctuated with the war’s progress. As Turkey gained ground and the rebels neared defeat, Britain, protecting creditor interests, organized a force, defeated the Ottoman fleet, and secured Greek independence. Greece was burdened with massive, unpayable debt, struggling under its weight for decades.
Politics and capital jointly determine a market’s credit rating. Abundant natural resources don’t guarantee high investment value. Political factors, like stable institutions and a sound economic system, are also crucial.

The Cult of the Free Market

Everyone acknowledges economics influences politics, but many resist political influence on economics. They advocate for government non-interference in economic affairs, opposing military intervention and criticizing welfare policies.
However, a completely free market is a myth. Trust, the economy’s most vital resource, requires political guarantees.

The Dark Side of Capital

The free market appears desirable under the assumption that capitalists reinvest profits to increase production. However, other avenues exist, such as employee mistreatment.
In a truly free market, companies can collude and exploit workers, potentially leading to restricted personal freedom or even slavery.
Slavery was nearly extinct in Europe by the late Middle Ages. Ironically, the slave trade boomed during capitalism’s rise, driven by unrestrained market forces.
European conquest of America led to sugarcane plantations. Sugar, a medieval European luxury, saw British annual consumption rise from almost zero in the 17th century to roughly 8 kilograms by the early 19th century.
Sugar demand was high, but sugarcane cultivation was arduous. Market-driven labor costs would be prohibitive. Plantation owners sought slaves.
Slave trading companies, listed on European markets, raised public funds. They formed fleets, hired sailors and soldiers, and traded for slaves in Africa. The slave trade was a joint venture between European investors and sugar consumers.
Capital’s greatest flaw is its prioritization of growth above all else. Without ethical constraints, it can lead to catastrophe.
In 1876, the King of Belgium founded a humanitarian organization, ostensibly to explore Central Africa, fight the slave trade, and improve local living conditions. In 1885, European powers allocated 2.3 million square kilometers of Congo Basin land to this organization—75 times Belgium’s size.
This “humanitarian” organization quickly morphed into a commercial enterprise. All its activities became profit-driven, establishing mines and plantations, and exploiting the local population. Conservative estimates suggest 6 million Congolese deaths between 1885 and 1908.

The Great Industrial Development

Ways of Harnessing Energy

Superficially, energy and resources appear finite. However, scientific research consistently solves resource depletion, either through more efficient use or the discovery of new energy sources and resources.
Before the Industrial Revolution, humans relied almost entirely on their own bodies or animals, consuming solar energy stored in plants and converting it to muscle power.
Human history, therefore, was governed by two major cycles: plant growth and solar changes.
Gunpowder’s invention in 9th-century China was a minor breakthrough, converting thermal energy into kinetic energy. However, its transformation into a controlled energy source was slow.
The steam engine finally allowed humans to control the conversion of thermal energy into kinetic energy. Early coal mine steam engines were inefficient, but abundant coal made this less of a concern.
Improved steam engines moved beyond coal mines into textile mills, revolutionizing the industry. This sparked a shift in thinking: if coal could power textile machines, it could power others. Machines rapidly took over various industries.
Since then, people have been captivated by using machines to control energy, making any type of energy anywhere available.
Physicists discovered atomic energy, and people immediately sought its application. It took 600 years from gunpowder to cannons; from mass-energy equivalence to the atomic bomb, only 40.
The internal combustion engine was another pivotal invention, making petroleum a key energy source. Humans had long known about petroleum, but only for waterproofing and lubrication. Until about a century ago, these were considered its sole uses. Waging war for oil would have seemed ludicrous then.
Two centuries ago, electricity was largely a mysterious academic experiment and magic trick. A series of inventions have made modern life utterly dependent on it.

The Energy Boom

The Industrial Revolution was, at its core, an energy conversion revolution. We’ve repeatedly shown that energy is virtually limitless. We consistently find new energy sources, and the total energy available to humans keeps growing.
The energy modern human activities consume annually equals just 90 minutes of Earth’s solar energy intake. Global plants store about six times that amount from the sun each year.
Before the Industrial Revolution, plant-based energy was almost the sole source, imposing a clear upper limit.
Harnessing and converting energy also addressed raw material shortages. Humans could use abundant, cheap energy to transport materials from afar, extract previously inaccessible resources, and invent new ones.
Chemists discovered aluminum in the 1820s. Its extraction was once so difficult that it was more expensive than gold.
During World War I, Germany, under blockade, faced a shortage of nitrates for explosives. Ammonia could substitute, but at a high cost. Chemists then invented a technology to produce ammonia virtually from air. Without it, Germany likely wouldn’t have lasted until 1918.

The Second Agricultural Revolution

The Industrial Revolution’s most significant aspect was initiating the Second Agricultural Revolution.
Advanced farm tools, fertilizers, and pesticides dramatically increased crop and livestock yields.
Mechanization extended beyond production tools to the production process of life itself. Modern chicken farms, for instance, prioritize meat and egg production efficiency, disregarding the creatures’ needs.
This parallels the Atlantic slave trade. European civilization didn’t hate Africans, and modern people don’t hate livestock. It’s sheer indifference.
The farm environment can meet animals’ physiological needs, eliminating the need for complex natural social behaviors. However, their psychological needs are innate, ingrained through evolution. Depriving them of social interaction causes psychological distress.
In the 1950s, American psychologist Harry Harlow experimented with baby monkeys. He placed them in cages with two surrogate mothers: one wire with a milk bottle, the other cloth, resembling a mother monkey but offering no practical aid. Most babies chose the cloth monkey, only approaching the wire one for milk.
Historically, most farm produce fed farmers and animals, with a small surplus circulating. Farmers comprised over 90% of the population.
Today, 2% of American farmers feed the entire US population and still export substantial amounts of food.
Without freeing so many people from agriculture, the Industrial Revolution would have lacked a foundation. For the first time in history, production outstripped demand.

The Rise of Consumerism

To handle the oversupply from the Industrial Revolution, consumerism reshaped social ethics. Frugality was no longer a virtue; self-indulgence was encouraged.
Products are constantly updated, creating many previously nonexistent needs, many of which are social and psychological, not material.
Religious holidays have become shopping events. Even Memorial Day in the United States is a major sales day.
Consumerism is most apparent in the food market. Hunger is no longer the issue; obesity is. The fitness and weight loss industry, spawned by obesity, generates significant consumer demand.
However, consumerism clashes with capitalist ethics, as profits aren’t reinvested. This isn’t truly a problem, as even in the past, aristocrats defied capitalist principles, spending lavishly. The situation is merely reversed today, with the masses indulging while the wealthy focus on wealth appreciation.

The Never-Ending Revolution

Breaking Free from Nature

The Industrial Revolution significantly reduced human reliance on nature, leading to widespread transformation of the natural environment into an artificial one.
Humans’ total weight now surpasses that of all large wild animals. Poultry and livestock outweigh humans by more than double.
While new technologies have overcome various resource shortages, the ecological crisis is an undeniable and irreversible reality.

Precise Time

While less dependent on nature, humans are increasingly reliant on modern industry and government.
A key manifestation of this is time. Humans have largely shifted from agricultural society’s loose time rhythm to industrial society’s precise one.
This precise time concept originated in factories and gradually permeated schools, hospitals, government, and all aspects of life. Accurate public transportation is also integral to industrial society’s time concept.
In 1784, Britain saw the first coach service with a published timetable, though it only included departure times.
In 1830, Britain’s first commercial railway opened. Ten years later, a train timetable was finally published. Trains’ speed made regional time differences noticeable, causing inconvenience. This led to time unification across regions, based on Greenwich Mean Time.
As more institutions unified time, this behavior eventually became government legislation. This marked the first time a country adopted a national unified timetable, requiring adherence to artificially defined time, rather than local natural time.
Broadcast media became the primary enforcer and disseminator of timetables. Time signals were among the earliest radio broadcasts, allowing time adjustments. Even today, radio programs begin with the time, preceding any other content.
During World War II, British radio broadcasts to Nazi-occupied areas started with Big Ben’s chimes. German physicists even deduced London’s weather from the chimes, a valuable intelligence piece. The British, discovering this, replaced live chimes with a recording.
For the timetable system to function, clocks became ubiquitous. Modern life is inseparable from precise time.

The Collapse of Family and Community

Industrial society’s most significant change is the decline of family and local community, replaced by a new order established by the state and the market.
Humans have always lived in small, close-knit communities, unchanged by the Cognitive and Agricultural Revolutions. Even during historical empires, the family remained society’s basic structural unit.
Before the Industrial Revolution, most people’s lives revolved around three frameworks: the nuclear family, the extended family, and the local community. The family also handled welfare, health, education, construction, guilds, pensions, insurance, media, banking, and even policing.
For major issues beyond the family, the local community often intervened. Places had recognized conduct principles, and communities often maintained order based on these principles of equality and mutual aid.
Kingdoms and empires handled larger-scale functions like wars, road and city building. The king levied taxes and recruited soldiers or workers. However, he rarely interfered in family and community affairs.
Traditional societies lacked the resources to support numerous officials, police, social workers, teachers, and doctors. Therefore, most regimes didn’t develop extensive welfare, medical, and education systems.
Even if the government wished to intervene in a citizen’s life, it lacked practical means, relying on indirect intervention through intermediate organizations. For example, the Ming Dynasty’s Lijia system grouped 10 households into a Jia and 110 into a Li. The central government issued decrees through Li chiefs and Jia heads.
However, family and community life wasn’t idyllic. Historically, family and community oppression on members was no less than that of the modern state market. Individuals couldn’t break free; losing family and community protection meant near-certain hardship.
Over the past two centuries, market power has been unleashed, and the state, aided by communication and transportation, extended its control to every individual. The order established by family and community became an obstacle to the new order.
Social development gradually replaced community order with state order. Besides external infiltration, the modern state used thought to promote community disintegration from within, praising free will and encouraging youth to break from traditional constraints.
Modern social order has transferred responsibilities previously held by the family to professional institutions.
The state now views everyone as an independent individual. Obligations and responsibilities don’t implicate others, even relatives. This became the basis for women’s and children’s independence, often considered property under community order.
The price of modern order is societal extremism. Family and community power weakens, individuals become more independent, and resistance to state and market power becomes more difficult.
Society has replaced the nuclear family and community’s material functions, but they retain emotional significance. The state and market penetrate individuals emotionally by shaping imagined communities. The two most important modern imagined communities are the nation and the consumer public.
The nation strives to conceal its imaginary nature, seeking historical clues to prove its reality.
The consumer public concept blurs national boundaries.

An Era of Peace

Rapid modern changes have become the norm, and social order is constantly shifting, unimaginable to the ancients. Modern people are accustomed to this pace.
Drastic changes bring turmoil, but also unprecedented peace.
In medieval Europe, annual homicides per 100,000 people were about 20-40. In modern society, it’s only 9 globally, and just 1 in Europe.
Since World War II’s end, most European empires have withdrawn peacefully, leaving behind relatively stable societies, not chaos.
The Soviet Union’s 1989 collapse was also remarkably peaceful and swift.
Since World War II, there have been no instances of invasion and annexation. Modern countries show little interest in international wars.
Most modern wars are border conflicts, civil wars, or coups.
Historically, even in peacetime, countries actively prepared for war. Modern society’s peace is genuine. No two countries constantly fear unprovoked full-scale war. There’s no incentive.
Nuclear weapons are a key reason for modern peace. This deterrent, capable of destroying all humanity, makes world conquest by force impossible.
Another reason is war’s increasing cost. Ancient wars were for plunder and profit; modern wars are unprofitable.
Past wealth was primarily land, immovable and occupiable. War had meaning. Today’s wealth is mobile, and there are numerous ways to compete for it. War doesn’t achieve this.
Conversely, peace is profitable. Historically, trade wasn’t as developed. Peace, at best, saved war costs, offering no clear economic benefits. In modern society, economic exchange between peaceful countries brings mutual prosperity.
Interconnected economies make war less likely. No country can be entirely self-sufficient. The world has become a vast empire.

More Happiness

Are Humans Happier?

History rarely examines whether people in a given period were happy, nor does it compare happiness levels across periods.
Happiness is subjective, making measurement difficult. The most scientific approach currently involves isolating factors and statistically studying large groups’ happiness scores.
Research shows money brings happiness, but with diminishing returns. Illness reduces happiness short-term, but even chronic diseases have limited long-term emotional impact.
Family and community impact happiness more significantly than the former two. While modern material conditions have improved, the decline of family relationships may offset this. It’s uncertain whether modern people are happier.
Happiness isn’t solely determined by objective conditions. Achieving expectations, regardless of scale, also significantly influences happiness.
Modern living standards lead us to view primitive life through a modern lens, concluding it was unhappy. However, the ancients lacked expectations for modern material conditions.
If happiness is judged by expectations, mass media and advertising may be increasing unhappiness by encouraging comparison with society’s top conditions.

The Biological Basis of Happiness

Biochemically, the human body limits happiness-producing substances, maintaining them at a stable level. Happiness offers no clear reproductive advantage and isn’t strengthened evolutionarily.
Happiness-producing substances are merely evolutionary tools, influencing behavior, prompting action or avoidance.
Evolution creates varying happiness levels. Some individuals naturally maintain higher levels, while others don’t.
Numerous studies link factors like marriage to happiness. However, correlation doesn’t imply causation; it might be a result.
From a biological perspective, historical processes have minimal impact on happiness, as human civilization’s short history hasn’t altered the human body.

The Meaning of Existence

Is the meaning of all human civilization ultimately in life sciences? Will solving all problems be as simple as finding ways to make the body produce more happiness, like in Huxley’s Brave New World?
This view equates pure biological pleasure with happiness.
Raising children involves countless headaches, yet most parents find their children a source of happiness.
Happiness isn’t merely the sum of isolated happy moments. Meaning plays a crucial overall role.
Biologically, human life is meaningless. However, the meaning we ascribe to it can bring genuine happiness.

The Happiness of Knowing Yourself

Whether from a biological or meaning-based perspective, happiness is a subjective feeling, a product of liberal thought. Everyone uses their own feelings as the standard; there’s no objective measure.
Most religions and philosophies differ from liberalism, believing people shouldn’t act solely on their temperament.
Buddhism is deeply concerned with this, systematically studying happiness’s nature and causes. It posits that happiness isn’t subjective feeling or finding life’s meaning, but relinquishing the pursuit of subjective feelings.
Overall, the study of happiness remains inconclusive.

The Man-Made Apocalypse

Beyond Nature

Through breeding, humans have surpassed natural evolution’s constraints, shaping species evolution through artificial design.
However, breeding isn’t drastically different from natural selection’s symbiotic relationships.
Genetic technology allows adding traits entirely absent in an organism.
In 2000, Brazilian bioartist Eduardo Kac, with a scientific team, created a fluorescent rabbit by implanting fluorescent jellyfish DNA into a rabbit embryo, creating a life form unprecedented in nature.
Intelligent design currently has three methods to replace natural selection: bioengineering, bionic engineering, and inorganic life engineering.

Bioengineering

Bioengineering isn’t new; humans have practiced it for millennia, including castration.
Castrated cattle are less aggressive and easier to train for farm work.
Modern bioengineering operates at cellular and nuclear levels. Gender can be directly altered through surgery and hormone injections.
Bovine cartilage cells have been implanted on mice, and by controlling tissue growth, they’ve been grown into human ear shapes.
Bioengineering’s power raises numerous ethical concerns. Its practical application remains largely limited to transforming microorganisms, plants, insects, and other politically non-sensitive species.
We can transform E. coli to produce biofuels or insulin outside the body. We can also insert Arctic fish genes into potatoes to enhance cold resistance.
Some mammals have undergone genetic modification. Cows have been modified to produce milk containing an enzyme that combats pathogens. The pig industry uses genetic modification to insert a worm gene, converting unhealthy pork fatty acids into healthier ones.
Vole breeding is typically crossbreeding, but one species exhibits stable monogamy. Genetic modification can identify and utilize this monogamy gene to alter other species’ social structures.
Bioengineering can not only transform existing organisms but also revive extinct ones. Mammoth gene sequencing has been completed from remains. Replacing modern elephant egg cell DNA with mammoth DNA could cultivate mammoths.
Completing the Neanderthal genome project could allow Neanderthal recreation.
We might even directly transform humans, cultivating individuals with superior biological traits.
Current obstacles are primarily ethical and political, not technical. However, numerous gray areas exist, and ethical and political barriers can’t entirely halt bioengineering research at certain levels.

Bionic Engineering

Bionic engineering alters life’s characteristics by combining inorganic tissues with organic life.
Modern humans are, to some extent, cyborgs. The mechanical tools and electronic products we use extend our senses and abilities. Narrowing the definition to require inorganic components to be part of the body, that era is also approaching.
The US is researching bionic insects, implanting chips in flies or cockroaches, allowing remote control of their movements and perception of their sensory information.
The US Navy has proposed a bionic shark project, using implanted tags to control shark behavior and leveraging their sensitive magnetic field detection for submarine and mine detection.
The latest hearing aids, or bionic ears, feature an external microphone converting sound to electrical signals transmitted directly to the auditory nerve.
Germany is developing artificial retinas to restore partial vision to the blind. Microchips implanted in the eye convert light into electrical energy, stimulating undamaged retinal nerve cells to produce visual information. This technology has enabled patients to perceive space, recognize letters, and faces.
In 2001, an American electrician who lost both arms received advanced bionic arms controlled directly by the brain, similar to natural arm control. While limited, they enable simple life actions.
Bionic arms lack human arm sensitivity and touch, but these issues will likely be resolved. Bionic arms offer unique advantages, like strength and remote control.
Duke University scientists implanted electrodes in rhesus monkeys’ brains, transmitting signals to external devices controlling bionic hands. One monkey learned to control the bionic arm consciously, simultaneously with its own arm, even when the bionic arm was in another city.
Locked-in syndrome patients lose almost all motor ability. Some have received brain electrode implants. Deciphering brain signals could enable not only action commands but also language interpretation, providing a communication pathway. This could even become a modern mind-reading technique.
Brain-computer interfaces are the most revolutionary current research. Immersively reading others’ memories through such interfaces could blur the lines of personal memory. Self-awareness would be subverted, and such humans would become a new species.

Inorganic Life Engineering

Creating entirely inorganic life is exemplified by independently evolving computer programs and viruses.
While computer viruses’ classification as life is debatable, what about a computer-simulated person mimicking all human neural activity? The Blue Brain Project is researching this. Although the human brain may function differently from a computer, the project’s potential impact, if successful, would be profound.

Impact on Culture

While most of these artificial life forms aren’t yet reality, they’ve already significantly impacted culture and created numerous problems. Laws require reconsideration, privacy needs redefinition, equality must be addressed, and extended lifespans impact retirement age, among other issues.
Regarding genes alone, are they private? Can they be discriminated against? Can newly created species’ gene sequences be patented? Beyond these, the potential creation of superhumans poses the greatest challenge.
These developments could lead to the most severe inequality in human history, challenging our current values and causing immense changes.
Humans generally resist being superseded by an unfamiliar species. However, modern science demonstrates the capability to create a new human far superior to us. Their emergence would likely lead to their dominance.

4 Days 5 Nights in Beijing

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sun, 22 Sep 2019 18:03:29 +0000

This is a long travelogue, around 10,000 words. Feel free to just skim the pictures if you’re not up for reading it all.

This was my third trip to Beijing. The first time, I was too young to remember much. The second time, I skipped the historical sites and went straight to the Military Museum. This time, I finally explored the city, and it left a lasting impression.

Before leaving, I pictured the cockroaches in my house, hiding in every nook and cranny, planning a five-day party the moment I was gone. I opened my train ticket, my finger hovering over the refund button, a sly smile on my face. Suddenly, the house was filled with tiny wails and cries of despair: “No, no, no!”, “Stop–”, “Oh s**t!”… One particularly dramatic roach even did a front flip, splitting its cookie crumb in two.

Enough of that. I left anyway; let them have their fun.

I went straight to the high-speed rail station after work and arrived in Beijing that night. It was surprisingly quick, just 4.5 hours from Hangzhou. The trip was 4 days and 5 nights, during the Mid-Autumn Festival. The weather was perfect, with no rain during the day.

Day 1: The Central Axis and East Side of the Forbidden City

Beijing City

Before Emperor Yongle moved the capital to Beijing, he had a grand vision for the city. Beijing was designed with the Forbidden City at its heart, divided into four layers:

The innermost layer is the Palace City, the Forbidden City, now the Palace Museum. It runs from the Meridian Gate (Wumen) in the south to the Gate of Divine Prowess (Shenwumen) in the north. The “Zi” (紫) in “Zijincheng” (Forbidden City) refers to the Purple Star, or Polaris. Because Polaris appears fixed in the sky, with other stars revolving around it, it symbolizes the emperor. The “Jin” (禁) means forbidden, heavily guarded, and off-limits. Ming and Qing law decreed that commoners trespassing into the Imperial City would be caned 100 times and exiled 3,000 li. Those trespassing into the Palace City faced hanging.
Outside the Palace City is the Imperial City, stretching from Tian’anmen in the south to Di’anmen in the north. The Imperial City housed most of those who served the emperor.
Further out is the Inner City, roughly the area of today’s Beijing Subway Line 2. That’s why most Line 2 station names are gates (“men”). This was where ordinary people could live; even princes and ministers’ residences were limited to this area.
Finally, there’s the Outer City. Initially a small area on the south side, it expanded as the city grew.

Beijing is laid out along a central axis running through these four layers. The Forbidden City, and even the dragon throne in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, sits on this axis, emphasizing “centeredness” and “righteousness.” The grid-like road network of modern Beijing is a legacy of Emperor Yongle’s design.

The Gates of the Forbidden City

The Palace Museum entrance is at Tian’anmen. Going inward, you pass through Duanmen Gate and the Meridian Gate (Wumen) before entering the Forbidden City. Outside Tian’anmen, there were two more gates: Daqingmen and Zhengyangmen. Daqingmen, called Damingmen during the Ming Dynasty, was the “Gate of the Nation.” It was demolished during the construction of Tian’anmen Square. Zhengyangmen, also known as Qianmen (Front Gate), was mainly for defense. It once had a barbican and arrow tower, but only the gate tower and arrow tower remain; the barbican was torn down during the Republican period.

On either side of Tian’anmen are pairs of stone hou (a mythical beast) on huabiao (ornamental columns). The inner ones are called Wang Jun Chu (Looking for the Emperor to Go Out), meaning the emperor should go out and understand his people’s suffering. The outer ones are called Wang Jun Gui (Looking for the Emperor to Return), meaning the emperor should return and govern diligently.

Emperor: What more do you want?!

The gate opening of Duanmen

The Meridian Gate appears to have three openings but actually has five. From afar, you only see three, but two more are hidden on the sides. This, like the bridges over the Golden Water River, reflects a strict hierarchy. The central gate was for the emperor, though the empress could use it once during the imperial wedding, and the top three scholars in the imperial examination could use it once when leaving. The two side gates were for imperial relatives. The outermost gates were for officials, civil on the left and military on the right (from the emperor’s perspective, facing south). The Hall of Literary Glory (Wenhua Dian) on the east and the Hall of Military Eminence (Wuying Dian) on the west – the entire layout of the Forbidden City’s outer court followed this “civil on the left, military on the right” principle.

The Meridian Gate has walls on three sides

Looking back from inside the Meridian Gate, you can see Duanmen and Tian’anmen’s gate openings. Further out is the Monument to the People’s Heroes. If Daqingmen still existed, you’d see its gate openings, and Zhengyangmen’s, too. Five gates in a line – a powerful symbol of the emperor’s authority.

After the Meridian Gate is the Gate of Supreme Harmony (Taihemen). Although just a gate, it’s grander than most Forbidden City buildings. It caught fire during Emperor Guangxu’s reign, coinciding with his wedding. Protocol dictated the empress pass through it. Someone suggested a temporary paper gate, so realistic that palace staff couldn’t tell the difference. This paper gate was used for six years until the real gate was rebuilt.

The bronze lions in front of the Gate of Supreme Harmony

The Outer Court

The square between the Gate of Supreme Harmony and the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Taihedian) is the Forbidden City’s most open space, yet it has no trees. This grand, artificial landscape was designed to create a sense of awe and pressure on officials attending court, demonstrating the emperor’s majesty.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony is the Forbidden City’s most prestigious building, over 2,200 square meters, supported by 72 nanmu wood pillars. Its roof is the highest level in ancient architecture: a double-eaved, hipped roof. This type of roof, with its curved slopes, was usually reserved for the emperor. Double eaves were also forbidden for commoners.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony has burned down four times, during the reigns of Yongle, Jiajing, Wanli, and Kangxi. Being made of wood, it was highly susceptible to fire. The first two fires were caused by lightning; the latter two spread from elsewhere.

The fire during Jiajing’s reign is interesting. During reconstruction, Jiajing and his ministers discussed the cause and prevention. Without knowledge of lightning rods, they blamed the name. The original name, Fengtian Dian (奉天殿), had the characters written vertically, with “Feng” (奉) above “Tian” (天), potentially displeasing Heaven. Someone suggested writing it horizontally, enlarging “Tian.” Jiajing’s response: “Not elegant” – basically, “ugly”! They renamed it Huangji Dian (皇极殿), with “Huang” (皇) on top. The name Taihe Dian (太和殿) came during the Qing Dynasty.

Jiajing: Make the logo bigger, follow your idea, make it international, when can I see it?

Besides the name change, many fire prevention measures were taken, mostly based on feng shui. The only practical measure was placing large water vats throughout the city.

A water vat in the Imperial Garden

The Hall of Supreme Harmony was mainly for grand ceremonies, like enthronements, weddings, and military expeditions. However, due to fires and other reasons, few ceremonies actually occurred here. Only half of the 14 Ming emperors were enthroned here. Only six emperors (Zhengde, Wanli, Shunzhi, Kangxi, Tongzhi, and Guangxu) held their weddings (first marriages of young emperors) here. Only Kangxi held a military expedition ceremony here, before fighting Galdan. Emperors Zhengde and Jiajing went on expeditions, but skipped the formalities, ignoring ministers’ objections. Emperor Zhengde suffered a defeat at the Tumu Crisis.

East of the Hall of Supreme Harmony is Tiren Ge (Hall of Embodied Benevolence), a quiet area with few visitors.

During Kangxi’s reign, the Boxue Hongru examination was held here. This was a special talent selection, outside the regular imperial examination. Talented individuals were recommended nationwide. The Boxue Hongru exam was much better than the regular one: candidates had tables and chairs, no time limit, candles to continue after dark, and a luxurious dinner (400 taels of silver per table, compared to a county magistrate’s annual salary of ~60 taels). Fifty out of 130+ candidates were admitted, treated like top imperial examination scholars.

The Hall of Central Harmony (Zhonghedian) behind it is square with a round, gilded roof, reflecting the “round heaven, square earth” worldview. At times, the roof reflects sunlight onto the Erlang Temple, which people attributed to divine manifestation.

The Hall of Central Harmony served as the emperor’s resting place before ceremonies and hosted small banquets and meetings. Before the Ming Dynasty fell, Emperor Chongzhen’s last meeting was held here, where ministers offered little useful advice.

The Outer Court’s last building is the Hall of Preserving Harmony (Baohedian). Emperors Shunzhi and Kangxi lived here. “Hall” (dian) signifies state affairs; “palace” (gong), family affairs. Shunzhi initially lived in the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqinggong), but it was in disrepair, so he stayed in the Hall of Preserving Harmony, renaming it a palace (Weiyu Gong, then Qingning Gong during Kangxi’s stay).

I didn’t get good pictures of the Hall of Central Harmony and the Hall of Preserving Harmony. This area is very crowded. The emperors watched officials shout “Long live the Emperor.” What would they think of today’s tourists?

Emperor: Guards!!!

The Inner Court

The Gate of Heavenly Purity (Qianqingmen) divides the Outer Court’s Three Halls and the Inner Court’s Three Palaces. The Palace of Heavenly Purity area forms a courtyard, including the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqinggong), the Hall of Union and Peace (Jiaotaidian), and the Palace of Earthly Tranquility (Kunninggong). Originally, these were the emperor’s residence, a place for rituals, and the empress’s residence, respectively. But starting from the Inner Court, they often weren’t used as intended. Yongzheng moved to the Hall of Mental Cultivation (Yangxindian), the Palace of Earthly Tranquility became a place for sacrifices, and Cixi lived in the Western Six Palaces. Rules were often bent.

The Palace of Heavenly Purity has a plaque reading “Zhengda Guangming” (Justice and Honor). Starting with Yongzheng, to reduce infighting, a secret succession system was used. The emperor wrote a will, kept one copy, and hid another behind the plaque. After his death, the copies were compared for succession.

I took a magical photo in the Palace of Earthly Tranquility. The old-style glass reflects colorful light. The interior is dim, and the glass reflects the sky with stunning colors.

The sundial in front of the Palace of Earthly Tranquility

Behind the Three Palaces is the Imperial Garden, which is smaller than Prince Gong’s private garden. Of course, this is unfair; the imperial leisure areas included the Summer Palace, Yuanmingyuan, etc.

Heshen: I lost.

Scenes in the Imperial Garden

Exiting the Imperial Garden, you reach the Gate of Divine Prowess (Shenwumen), the Forbidden City’s north gate. The imperial family’s female members used this gate for outings; the emperor used the Meridian Gate, and they’d meet later.

The Gate of Divine Prowess was previously Xuanwumen. Traditional culture associates four divine beasts with directions: Green Dragon (east), White Tiger (west), Vermilion Bird (south), and Black Tortoise (Xuanwu, north). Xuanwumen often referred to a north gate. To avoid Emperor Kangxi’s taboo name, Xuanye (玄烨), it became Shenwumen (神武门).

Looking back at the palace walls from Shenwumen

Vents in the wall for ventilation and wood preservation

Looking back from outside the Gate of Divine Prowess

East Side of the Forbidden City

That’s the central axis. We then headed south from the Inner Court’s eastern part, visiting the Six Eastern Palaces. I’m not familiar with imperial harem history, and I can’t remember which concubine lived where. The most memorable was the popular Yanxi Palace, with a water palace. I initially thought it was a fire ruin, but the guide explained it was unfinished. Yanxi Palace had multiple fires. Consort Jin (or possibly Empress Dowager Longyu) commissioned a Western-style crystal palace, to suppress fire and enjoy fish. It had a pool with goldfish and a glass floor. Due to financial constraints, it was halted.

If completed, the underwater level would have resembled modern ocean parks.

South of the Six Eastern Palaces is the Archery Pavilion (Jianting). Jianting’s spacious interior was used for archery and martial arts practice, and hosted military examinations.

Weapons and armor of the Eight Banners army were displayed inside Jianting.

Saddle

Continuing south, east of Xiehe Gate, is the Forbidden City’s most tranquil area. The Wenhua Dian complex is hidden behind trees. The two main buildings are Wenhua Dian (Hall of Literary Glory) and Wenyuan Ge (Hall of Literary Profundity).

Looking back at Xiehe Gate

The tree-lined path east of Xiehe Gate

After the Three Great Halls burned down, Wenhua Dian temporarily served as the emperor’s office. After their reconstruction, it became the crown prince’s office. Therefore, the roof couldn’t use yellow glazed tiles and was downgraded to green. Emperor Jiajing later converted Wenhua Dian for his own use, hence the yellow roof today.

Wenhua Dian hosted “Jingyan” (Classics Mat lectures), where Grand Scholars taught the emperor Confucian classics, shaping his worldview. This was crucial for young emperors. Zhang Juzheng taught young Wanli, and Weng Tonghe taught young Guangxu here.

For Guangxu’s first lesson, Weng Tonghe taught calligraphy (“Tianxia Taiping, Zhengda Guangming” - Peace under Heaven, Justice and Honor). Guangxu got bored, so Weng switched to storytelling, using Zhang Juzheng’s “Dijian Tushuo” (Illustrated Mirror for Emperors). Guangxu’s interest waned. Weng then made him read aloud, repeatedly. Guangxu refused. Weng criticized him harshly, and Guangxu walked out. Scolded by Cixi, he returned. As he grew older, Guangxu became more cooperative and respected his teacher, consulting him on important decisions.

Guangxu: Pfft~ I’m still a baby.

East of Wenhua Dian is Chuanxin Dian (Hall of Passing on the Mind), enshrining figures like Fuxi, Nuwa, Shennong, Xuanyuan, Yao, Shun, Yu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius. This building appeared during the Qing Dynasty, demonstrating its acceptance of Han culture.

To the north, Wenyuan Ge looks ancient. It was the Forbidden City’s imperial library, once holding important classics like the Siku Quanshu (Complete Library in Four Sections).

Day 2: Inner Court - East and West

Inner Court - East Side

After entering the Meridian Gate, we headed straight for Huangji Dian, a “city within a city” known as the Inner Court’s Outer Eastern Road. The Nine Dragon Screen stands before the courtyard gate.

Huangji Gate, facing the Nine Dragon Screen

The courtyard mirrors the Forbidden City’s central axis. Qianlong built this garden for his retirement. He abdicated after 60 years on the throne, becoming Emperor Emeritus, honoring his promise not to exceed Kangxi’s 61-year reign.

Qianlong: Buy low, sell high, and quit while you’re ahead~

The dragon throne in Huangji Dian. Qianlong’s retirement certainly didn’t cramp his style. This photo practically has its own soundtrack – you can almost hear the theme song of “The Qianlong Dynasty”! Ah, Adam Cheng!

Huangji Dian’s courtyard now houses the Palace Museum’s Treasure Gallery. I’m no expert, but these lavish artworks were instantly captivating.

8 jade artifacts

8 gold artifacts

Behind the courtyard lies the rest and recreation area. Changyin Ge (Pavilion of Pleasant Sounds), the Forbidden City’s largest theater, stands out. It has three levels, with Qianlong watching performances from the opposing Yue Shi Lou (Tower for Viewing). Actors used vertical passages to move between levels, appearing from below or descending from above.

Leshou Tang (Hall of Joyful Longevity), once Cixi’s residence, has a subdued, aged feel compared to the vibrant Inner Court’s Three Palaces.

The walls display calligraphy and paintings gifted by ministers, reflecting her power. She also resided in a Leshou Tang at the Summer Palace.

At the backyard’s north end is a well. Nobody dared drink Forbidden City well water. During Yongle Emperor’s reign, bored eunuchs and palace maids sometimes formed unofficial couples. Disgusted by seeing one such couple, Yongle ordered the execution of all paired eunuchs and maids, throwing them into the wells. The number of bodies in the Forbidden City’s wells remains unknown.

Zhu Di: Bro, it’s fine! Drink up!

Consort Zhen, Guangxu’s favorite, famously died in a well. Cixi arranged Guangxu’s marriage to Empress Longyu, but Guangxu disliked her, finding her plain and unremarkable. He favored the lively and intelligent Consort Zhen. She embraced Western ideas and supported Guangxu’s reforms, angering Cixi. When the Eight-Nation Alliance invaded, Cixi fled, ordering Consort Zhen thrown into the well behind Huangji Dian before leaving. The well was renamed Zhenfei Jing (Consort Zhen Well). Guangxu was reportedly never the same, withdrawing from the world.

Leaving the Inner Court’s Outer Eastern Road, we returned to Shenwumen (Gate of Divine Prowess). We climbed the Forbidden City wall and walked the eastern section. Taihe Dian (Hall of Supreme Harmony) clearly stands as the tallest building, its roof style distinctly superior. Most lower buildings feature hip roofs with small vertical gables.

Several views on the city wall, the building in the picture is not Taihe Dian

Northeast Corner Tower

We also photographed a small courtyard in a restricted area, resembling the workshop from the documentary “Masters in Forbidden City.” My wife and I agreed it was likely the same place.

Forbidden City - West Side

After descending, we passed Wenhua Dian and crossed Taihemen Square to reach Wuying Dian (Hall of Military Eminence).

Taihemen Square

Despite the Forbidden City’s “literature on the left, military on the right” design, Wuying Dian primarily served literary purposes. Except for the Ming-Qing transition, when Li Zicheng and Dorgon handled affairs here, it mostly functioned as the royal publishing house.

South of Wuying Dian lies Jiyongchu (literally “Exciting Bucket Place”), the ancient fire brigade’s location. The term “fire brigade” existed during the Guangxu period. They used a syringe-like device called a “jitong” (exciting bucket) to spray water several meters. Wuying Dian’s fire brigade was the earliest dedicated firefighting organization, a precursor to modern fire brigades.

Jitong

Leaving Wuying Dian, we bypassed the Three Great Halls to reach Cining Gong (Palace of Compassion and Tranquility), the residence of empress dowagers and imperial concubines – much grander than the concubines’ quarters. A Buddhist hall stood behind Cining Gong, reflecting the empress dowagers’ faith.

The second courtyard of Cining Gong

The western building of the second courtyard of Cining Gong

South of Cining Gate is a long, narrow garden, almost as large as the Imperial Garden, but less refined and dynamic, feeling stiff and monotonous – more like a park for seniors than a garden.

Empress Dowager: Stay fit, don’t give me any of that fancy stuff.

No direct path connects Cining Gong to the Six Western Palaces; we detoured past Yangxin Dian (Hall of Mental Cultivation), which was closed for renovation. We did see the Grand Council (Junjichu) in front. Kangxi, a dedicated scholar, established Nan Shufang (South Study) near Yangxin Dian to discuss military affairs, rituals, calligraphy, painting, literature, and even mathematics. During Yongzheng’s reign, the emperor moved to Yangxin Dian and established the Grand Council, diminishing Nan Shufang’s role.

Kangxi: You can’t even begin to imagine the life of a top student.

We didn’t thoroughly explore the Inner Court’s Outer Western Road and the Six Western Palaces due to closing time and our aching feet. Over 60,000 steps in two days is astronomical for two homebodies.

Day 3: Prince Gong’s Mansion, Temple of Confucius, and Imperial College

Prince Gong’s Mansion is significant. Guides and apps claim it witnessed the Qing Dynasty’s rise and fall—half its history.

Residential Area

As a former prince’s residence, it was built to a lower standard than the imperial palace. It uses green glazed tiles, but the courtyard layout mirrors the Forbidden City’s central axis.

Yin’an Hall, at the center, is less grand than palace buildings, but its name is significant. A prince’s main hall usually wasn’t named, just called “main hall.” So, genuine mansions typically lack plaques. Yin’an Hall, also called Yinluan Hall, rivals the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Jinluan Hall), reflecting Prince Gong Yixin’s peak power.

Front of Yin’an Hall

It was crowded, so I photographed it from the side, revealing Yin’an Hall’s architectural style and delicate gable decoration. Regulations allowed princes’ residences green glazed tiles and hip-and-gable roofs for main gates, halls, and sleeping halls. Officials were restricted to gray-black tiles and couldn’t use hip-and-gable roofs. Thus, Heshen, regardless of his power, couldn’t use this architecture.

West gable wall of Yin’an Hall

Yin’an Hall, destroyed by fire in the early Republic, was rebuilt in 2008, making it quite new. Liang Sicheng aided its restoration. The repair team initially only had a floor plan, lacking details, until they found Liang’s detailed records. He’d documented the mansion while participating in renovations when it served as Fu Jen Catholic University’s campus.

The residential area has three sections: east, middle, and west. In Heshen’s time, the middle section was the main hall, used for major events. The east housed Princess Gurun Hexiao, Heshen’s daughter-in-law, favored by Emperor Qianlong, who married her to Heshen’s son, Fengshen Yinde. The west was Heshen’s residence.

North of the west section is Xijinzhai. During Prince Gong Yixin’s time, it held Lu Ji’s famous Jin Dynasty calligraphy, “Pingfu Tie.”

“Pingfu Tie,” I’m no calligraphy expert

“Xi” in Xijinzhai derives from “Ci,” meaning bestowed treasures. “Jin” refers to the Jin Dynasty masterpiece. The west side hall, Er’erzhai, implies that compared to “Pingfu Tie,” these buildings and treasures are insignificant!

Yixin: My precious!

Xijinzhai, though remote, is the mansion’s most luxurious building. Heshen called it Jialetang. Its exterior is plain, but the interior is stunning. Heshen used designs exceeding his rank, making his residence grander than Princess Gurun Hexiao’s. For instance, golden nanmu pillars, reserved for the emperor, became a major crime during his house raid.

A long, two-story building, Houzhao Building, separates the residence and garden. Houzhao rooms are at the back of traditional siheyuan courtyards, serving as houses and the back wall. A multi-story Houzhao room is a Houzhao Building.

The secret of this Houzhao Building is on its north side. From the garden, each second-floor window has unique shapes and carvings.

This was Heshen’s personal indexing system. Shapes represented treasure types. Walking under the eaves, he’d know what was hidden behind each room by the window. He reportedly often strolled there with a cryptic smile.

Heshen: My precious! × N

Qianlong tolerated Heshen’s greed because he saw him as capable and loyal. Compared to ambitious past ministers, greed seemed minor. Heshen, a miser who hoarded wealth, served as Qianlong’s piggy bank. Jiaqing broke it open immediately after Qianlong’s death.

Garden Area

Three paths lead from the residence to the garden. The middle one goes through the Western Gate, built during Prince Gong Yixin’s time. It’s said to be one of only three Western-style gates in Beijing then, and the garden’s only Western-style structure.

The garden’s theme is fortune (福, fu). A bat pond lies at the Western Gate’s entrance, a bat hall at the northern end, and bat patterns adorn many buildings. The garden also holds a stele with Kangxi’s “fu” character, written for Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang and later given to Heshen by Qianlong.

The garden’s lake and bat pond connect to Shichahai, a privilege reserved for princes. Ministers’ ponds couldn’t connect externally. East of the bat pond is Qinqiu Pavilion, built by Yixin for his favorite concubine. Its floor has a winding channel for a “floating cup” game, a Liubei Pavilion. It was my first time seeing a real “Qu Shui Liu Shang.”

The garden’s theater is unique, being China’s only fully indoor one. Its beams and pillars are painted with wisteria, appearing somewhat odd now. Yixin prepared it for Cixi, who always watched operas outdoors. He mimicked the outdoor setting inside to cater to her habits.

South of the lake, on the west side, is Miaoxiang Pavilion, oddly shaped. After Prince Gong helped Cixi gain power, she sidelined him. He built this pavilion, resembling her ceremonial hat, to vent his anger, occasionally stepping on it.

Cixi: Why the sudden headaches?

In the southwest corner is a small mountain god temple, worshipping hedgehogs, weasels, foxes, and snakes—common animals then revered as gods. Nearby is a small Dragon King temple. Heshen, advised by a feng shui master that this spot was the garden’s water level and dragon’s location, built it for worship.

Temple of Confucius

We left Prince Gong’s Mansion for the Temple of Confucius and the Imperial College, adjacent attractions with a single ticket.

I examined the door studs of Dacheng Gate at the Temple of Confucius. Originally for fixing, preventing wood warping, they became linked to status in the Qing Dynasty. Their shape and number were restricted; commoners couldn’t use them freely. Odd numbers are yang, even numbers yin. Nine, the largest yang number, represents imperial authority (e.g., Nine-Five Supremacy, Nine-Dragon Wall). Doors directly linked to the emperor used 9 rows and 9 columns of studs (81 total).

Looking back at my Forbidden City photos, a missing stud (lower left) shows they penetrate the door panel. This photo shows Xihe Gate, leading to Wuying Hall. Though a side gate, it maintains the highest standard.

Xihe Gate of the Forbidden City, 81 door studs

Dacheng Gate’s studs are identical. Dacheng Hall also reflects the highest architectural standards. The Temple of Confucius’s last major Qing renovation was during the Guangxu period, demonstrating the regime’s acceptance of Confucian culture.

Dacheng Gate of the Temple of Confucius, 81 door studs

The grandeur of Dacheng Hall

Dacheng Hall displays musical instruments like chime bells and stones. Confucianism emphasizes rituals and music, often mentioned together as “Li Beng Yue Huai” (collapse of rituals and music). Though often considered a whole, they are literally two distinct, yet inseparable, concepts in Confucianism.

This set of bronze chime bells is remarkably well-preserved

Chime stones

Imperial College

The adjacent Imperial College, the highest Ming and Qing Dynasty institution of learning, predates the Forbidden City, having been built in the Yuan Dynasty. The glazed archway behind Taixue Gate, China’s only archway dedicated to education, is impressive. Its four pillars represent merit, fame, profit, and wealth. The building features lotus nail carvings, symbolizing “success in successive examinations.”

Glazed archway, excluding the side pillars

Piyong Hall, at the Imperial College’s center, is the world’s only building dedicated to imperial lectures. After Emperor Qianlong, each new emperor lectured here, emphasizing education.

Inside Piyong Hall

Emperor: Listen, and you’ll pass! DM for the PPT.

About to enter Piyong, I was sidetracked by an interesting exhibition on the imperial examination system’s history.

The Imperial Examination System

The ancient talent selection system evolved. “Ju Xiaolian,” often heard in ancient texts, was an assessment in the Han Dynasty’s inspection system. Compared to other systems, the imperial examination better promoted social mobility, a significant improvement.

In the Han Dynasty, special carriages fetched candidates for capital positions. This reminded me of “Gongche Shangshu” (Petition by Scholars), realizing “Gongche” refers to that group of intellectuals.

The Tang Dynasty saw the imperial examination develop, with subdivisions for literature, science, medicine, and martial arts. It even accepted foreigners as officials.

The Song Dynasty pioneered the palace examination and had a relatively complete anti-cheating system. Candidates’ papers were rewritten, and names sealed before being given to examiners, preventing favoritism. Examiners graded papers on a five-level scale: excellent, good, medium, poor, and inferior.

By the Yuan, Ming, and Qing Dynasties, only the Jinshi remained. As the system matured, social mobility slowed. Early Qing saw a higher proportion of officials’ children passing the Jinshi exam than commoners. Kangxi introduced separate papers, with quotas for officials and commoners.

I only knew of the provincial, metropolitan, and palace examinations. But commoners actually faced six stages: child, provincial, metropolitan, palace, court, and Shuguan examinations. The child examination was a qualification. The provincial examination was held in the province, supervised by central officials. Those who passed were Juren; the top scorer was Jieyuan. The metropolitan examination was in Beijing, at the Gongyuan outside the Forbidden City. The top scorer was Huiyuan.

The palace examination tested culture and calligraphy. The Guangge style, a neat small regular script, was used. During a Qianlong-era palace examination, Liu Fenggao kept writing until dark, refusing to hand in his paper. The Minister of Rites, seeing his excellent calligraphy, ordered candles for him. He placed third. Qianlong, finding Liu short and unattractive, tested him with a couplet: “East Qiming, West Chang庚, South Ji North Dou, I am the star-picking hand.” Liu instantly replied: “Spring peony, summer peony, autumn chrysanthemum, winter plum, I am the Tanhualang.”

He looks quite normal in the portrait!

Besides culture and calligraphy, names could change fates. During a Jiajing-era palace examination, two top candidates were Qin Minglei and Wu Qing. Wu Qing was stronger, but Jiajing disliked the name. During a drought, Minglei (sounding like thunder, implying rain) was favored, making him Zhuangyuan. Wu Qing placed third. A limerick satirized this: “Wuqing (heartless) candidate, heartless emperor, Minglei picked up the bargain.”

Only three placed in the top three of the palace examination; the numbers for second and third ranks varied. Different levels had different career prospects. Stopping at the palace examination often meant local assignment, hindering promotion. To get closer to the center, most Jinshi took the Hanlin Academy examination, a graduate school. 90% of Ming Dynasty Grand Secretaries came from the Hanlin Academy, a career fast track. The entrance exam was the court examination. Admitted Jinshi were Shujishi; the top three were exempt.

The Hanlin Academy’s graduation examination was the Shuguan examination. It divided Shujishi into three groups. The first stayed, doing compilation and potentially teaching princes, with fast promotion. Some of the second stayed, others went to the six ministries. The third group returned to the official circle, awaiting employment.

Admission ticket

Imperial examination paper

Leaving the exhibition, it was too late to explore the Imperial College further. The day’s itinerary concluded.

Day 4: Summer Palace

The Summer Palace is more relaxed than the previous days. The historical events here aren’t as dense as at the Forbidden City and Prince Gong’s Mansion; it’s primarily for sightseeing. A perfect, relaxing end to the trip.

I felt a sense of familiarity arriving at the Summer Palace. Tourists from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, like myself, feel right at home. Qianlong, with his Jiangnan obsession, didn’t find six trips to Jiangnan enough. He recreated it at the Summer Palace (then Qingyi Garden). Suzhou Street mimics a Jiangnan water town, Xiequ Garden replicates a Jiangnan garden, and Kunming Lake is a stand-in for Hangzhou’s West Lake.

Cixi adored Suzhou Street. She’d have palace maids and eunuchs play the roles of residents, merchants, and tourists, simulating a real water town.

Palace maids & eunuchs: The Truman Show, take 76, everyone ready, Action!

Longevity Hill

I entered from the North Palace Gate, behind Longevity Hill. Passing Suzhou Street, you’re at the mountain’s peak: the Four Great Regions, a Tibetan Buddhist structure.

Looking up at the Four Great Regions from the north side

It’s unimpressive from the back. But circling to Kunming Lake’s front and re-climbing Longevity Hill, the building’s grandeur emerges. While not as grand as the Forbidden City, it rises with the mountain, creating a natural solemnity.

Paiyun Hall, where Cixi celebrated her birthdays, sits at the mountain’s foot. Emperor Guangxu had to wait in a side hall. Most Qing rulers followed Tibetan Buddhism. Dehui Hall, behind Paiyun Hall, bridges secular and religious authority. Beyond it lies the Buddhist realm.

Buddha: Need a visa? Your human world’s so casual?

Looking up at Dehui Hall and Foxiang Pavilion from Paiyun Hall

The steps are narrow, cramped. Looking up at Foxiang Pavilion from them is striking – the size contrast is dramatic. Turning, you get a panoramic view of Kunming Lake.

Ascending, you see the repeating Buddha statues in Zhongxiangjie and Zhihuihai – a powerful visual. The lower statues’ heads were looted by the Eight-Nation Alliance; the current ones are restorations, hence their new appearance.

Looking up at Zhongxiangjie

Buddha statues on the wall of Zhihuihai

The Four Great Regions, blending imperial and Tibetan Buddhist styles, crowns the peak. Climbing from the front, it evokes the Potala Palace. For a moment, I felt transported to Lhasa.

Descending east, I reached Kunming Lake. Looking back at Longevity Hill, the climb is clearly visible, undeniably solemn and majestic.

Hall of Benevolence and Longevity (RenShouDian) and Grand Theater (DeHeYuan)

Besides the Forbidden City, the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity impressed me most. Cixi, during her regency, favored the Summer Palace. This hall, like the Forbidden City’s Hall of Supreme Harmony, hosted ceremonies and foreign envoys.

Two dragons and two phoenixes flank a bronze qilin. Unusually, the phoenixes are central, a testament to Cixi’s power. The area lacks the Hall of Supreme Harmony’s masculine energy (with its bronze lions), but pines, stones, and bronze ding vessels lend it an air of elder statesmanship.

Elder Statesman: No dog head? Seriously?

Cixi loved opera. My wife says she’d be a homebody today, binge-watching shows.

North of the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity is the Deheyuan Grand Theater. It blows the Forbidden City’s Hall of Changyinge (Sound of Smooth Music) out of the water. Similar style, but vastly upgraded.

The screen wall of the Deheyuan courtyard, sunlight perfectly illuminating the crape myrtle tree.

The Grand Theater of Deheyuan

A corner of the Grand Theater

Cixi didn’t just watch; she made officials join. The Hall of Yile (YiLeDian), opposite Deheyuan, was her viewing platform; the side corridors were for officials. Cixi saw it as a treat, but they didn’t. With no restrooms, officials needing relief had to bribe eunuchs to open a gate, escape via ladder, and follow a small path to the toilet – the “Happy Little Path.”

The side corridors served as officials’ boxes.

Official: I’m sneaking out. If the Old Buddha calls, say I’m here.

Deheyuan has three courtyards. Behind the Hall of Yile is another, used for resting during intermissions.

Garden of Harmonious Interests (XieQuYuan)

The Summer Palace is vast. Coming from Hangzhou, I skipped Kunming Lake’s large expanse. But I discovered a hidden gem: the Garden of Harmonious Interests, in the northeast corner.

It’s a delicate Jiangnan-style garden, a garden within a garden. The architecture, with single-eave, roll-shed, and hip-and-gable roofs, is imperial. This blend of elegance and imperial grandeur is rare in Jiangnan, and truly striking.

The Knowing-Fish Bridge (ZhiYuQiao) is the highlight. It’s low, ideal for fish-watching. Qianlong named it after Zhuangzi and Huizi’s philosophical “debate”: “You’re not a fish; how do you know their joy?”

Qianlong: I just know, alright? Keep it up!

A pond corner, viewed from the Knowing-Fish Bridge

Beautiful Corners

Beyond these, the Summer Palace has secluded, beautiful corners, rarely seen by tourists.

East of Longevity Hill is the Multi-Treasure Glazed Pagoda (DuoBaoLiuLiTa). Its surface, covered in Buddha statues, echoes Longevity Hill’s Hall of the Sea of Wisdom (ZhiHuiHai). Though closed, you can walk around it, getting quite close.

Northeast of the pagoda is the isolated Hall of Tanning (DanNingTang). The Summer Palace’s Rear Lake, more a narrow river, lies north of it. The view south from the north bank offers a unique, tranquil beauty.

A nearby bridge is also distinctive, perfect for photos.

And, as evening approached, the sky filled with cirrus and cirrocumulus clouds – stunning weather!

Beijing Impressions

Accommodation

I stayed in Beijing for four days and five nights. The first three nights were at an Airbnb near Zhangzizhong Road, close to Nanluoguxiang. The room was tiny but cozy, clean, and well-connected. Finding a gem like that takes luck.

You could even glimpse a siheyuan (courtyard house) from the window.

The last two nights were a total bust. Another Airbnb, but it was a bait-and-switch – nothing like the pictures. Dirty and awful. The location was also off, not where it was pinned on the map, and you needed a taxi to reach the subway.

Two takeaways about lodging:

Prioritize location near transit. In cities with solid subway systems, rely on public transport. No need to switch places mid-trip.
If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Rent is market-driven; don’t get your hopes up.

Food

I mostly ate lunch at the sights, grabbing bread to save time. I only got to sample local food in the evenings.

The first night’s dinner sticks with me. After exiting the Forbidden City’s Shenwu Gate, I went west around Jingshan Park, then north into Gongjian Hutong. Deep in the hutong, there’s a restaurant in an old imperial ice cellar. The original ice storage is still there.

Ice was a royal commodity in the Ming and Qing dynasties. Each winter, ice cutters harvested blocks from lakes, hauling them to ice cellars across Beijing. The Ministry of Works oversaw it. Ice cutting was brutal, backbreaking work. It was hereditary; no quitting. The 1.5 chi square blocks fit perfectly into ice chests. Stored for half a year, the ice came out for summer use. It was even a prestigious gift, “awarding ice” to officials.

Ice (bing) is a loaded word, sounding like “soldier” in Chinese. This partially explains the emperor’s monopoly. When Zhu Di plotted to overthrow Emperor Jianwen, he consulted the monk Yao Guangxiao (Dao Yan). Zhu Di, instead of stating his intentions directly, offered the first line of a couplet: “When the sky is cold and the earth is frozen, water without a single dot cannot become ice (bing).” Yao Guangxiao, catching his drift, replied: “When the country is in chaos and the people are worried, who will be the leader if the king (wang) does not step forward?”

Regarding local specialties, Peking duck and copper charcoal hot pot are decent. But you can find them everywhere now, just as authentic, so I skipped them. I had dinner with classmates twice – one Western, one Xinjiang. I didn’t really get into the traditional Beijing snacks: baodu (boiled tripe), luzhu (stewed pork offal), chaogan (stir-fried liver)… Beijing cuisine features a lot of offal. I’m not a fan, and to me, these dishes don’t quite mask the gamey flavor.

Chicken broth radish, baodu, and sesame sauce for baodu at the Imperial Ice Cellar Restaurant

Yaoji Chaogan at the foot of the Drum Tower, from top left to bottom right: almond tofu, luzhu, garlic vinegar sauce for luzhu, zhajiangmian (noodles with savory soybean paste), chaogan*

I did some digging, and many claim Beijingers were poor in the late Qing Dynasty, resorting to scraps. I think it’s plausible the other way around – people actively chose these ingredients. Offal was cheap in Beijing, dirt cheap!

Due to the well-off princes and nobles, Beijing’s daily livestock consumption was staggering. The meat was used, ice cellars were royal-only, and offal, hard to preserve or transport, flooded the market. Offal prices were likely much lower than elsewhere.

I also suspect that, due to royal protocol, meat demand in Beijing during the Ming and Qing was more rigid. Even as the economy declined, meat consumption likely stayed high. So, as the late Qing economy worsened, offal became even cheaper, establishing it as a regional specialty.

I found an article with a similar viewpoint, though it doesn’t focus solely on Beijing’s offal consumption: https://www.douban.com/note/666792033/

Then there’s douzhi’er (fermented mung bean milk). I got a cup near Prince Gong’s Mansion. It’s made from fermented mung beans, which are mostly sugar and protein. The fermented taste is…unique. The shop owner was funny. He poured a tiny disposable cup. My wife asked, “That’s it?” He said, “Finish it, and I’ll give you a refill.” She took one sip, tossed it, and said it reeked of rotten eggs.

Owner: Hey! Leaving so soon? No refill?

Besides traditional snacks, I found a killer dessert shop in Jianchang Hutong near Guozijian.

Anecdotes

I remember arriving in Beijing; hailing a taxi at the station was impossible. I took a shuttle bus further out to grab one. The driver’s Beijing accent was a real pick-me-up.

Take the shuttle bus one stop, and it’s easy to get a cab.

It was like that the whole trip. Ride-hailing drivers everywhere have their groups, chatting on voice messages at red lights. Beijing drivers have a totally different style. The whole group was hyping up a driver who’d hit his daily bonus and was calling it quits – like a xiangsheng (crosstalk) routine.

“Damn! You’re killing it.”

“Missed one fare, I’m toast.”

At a light, I saw something heartwarming. An old man pedaled a canopied tricycle across the road. It was uphill; he was struggling. His wife, presumably, sat in the back. She stretched out her legs, helping him pedal. Once they crested the hill, she sat back.

It reminded me of… interacting forces!

On my last night, my classmate treated me to Xinjiang food. The main dish was a huge plate of jiaomaji (chicken with numbing peppers) – a massive portion.

My classmate said it’s nothing compared to Northeastern cuisine. She’d been there on business: “The guobaorou (sweet and sour pork) is this big,” she said, gesturing. For something refined, she goes for Japanese. Japanese food in Northeast China is localized – still sushi, hand rolls, sashimi, but double the size.

Mind blown! Big eaters who love Japanese food, head to Northeast China – you’ll be stuffed!

My classmate lives in Xizhimen, supposedly the “center of the universe” (laughs). I also visited Sanlitun, and compared to that, Xizhimen feels older, not so “center of the universe.” The key is the prestigious schools and diverse population, supporting a varied commercial scene.

Sanlitun Taikoo Li

Near Xizhimen Subway Station

My classmate broke it down: different times for students hanging out, European and American students emerging, bar-hopping crowds, and often, drunk Japanese and Koreans on the streets. And after that…

I was thinking, the capital’s nightlife is so sophisticated, what could be next?

Then, it’s the IT worker exodus. The line of overtime slaves for the subway stretches from inside the station to the intersection.

……

Brutal!

Epilogue

Back in Hangzhou, I knew I’d return to Beijing. Its historical sites, hutongs, nature, museums, and exhibitions are endless; you’ll always discover something new. I was too ambitious this time, a bit rushed.

I also realized I don’t appreciate my own city enough. I’ve become complacent. I need to shift my perspective and revisit Hangzhou as a tourist, to truly understand my home.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.