Part I. The First Opening: The Feat of Zhang Qian
The first opening of the road is linked to the astonishing journey of a Chinese diplomat named Zhang Qian. In 138 BCE, Emperor Wu of Han dispatched him as an envoy to the ruler of the Yuezhi people. The goal was strategic: to forge a military alliance against the Xiongnu.
The Xiongnu, or Huns, were a serious nuisance to China from the northwest. Their nomadic territories stretched across a vast area — from the borders of the Chinese Empire to Central Asia. From the north, the country was protected by the Great Wall, but not entirely. The undefended western and northwestern frontiers ran through deserts and steppes. These barren lands were thought to serve as a natural barrier, yet it was precisely across them that the Xiongnu roamed, launching plundering raids from there.
The Yuezhi — as the Chinese called the tribes that later founded the Kushan Empire — were also enemies of the Xiongnu. Rumors said their grazing lands lay beyond the Xiongnu territories, far past the Celestial Mountains, as the Tien Shan range was known in China. It was there that the emperor sent his envoy. However, on the approach to the Celestial Mountains, Zhang Qian was captured by the Xiongnu and brought before their chieftain. For ten long years, he remained a captive. He was not treated cruelly; in fact, the Xiongnu leader offered him a position in his service. Zhang Qian refused. He was not executed, but neither was he granted freedom. And so he roamed together with his captors, year after year.
One day, when the horde was once again migrating not far from the Celestial Mountains, Zhang Qian, along with his guide and hunter Ganfu — a Xiongnu by birth — escaped across the passes of the Tien Shan. The emperor’s mission had never been rescinded, and the envoy hoped to immediately find the Yuezhi. After crossing the passes, the fugitives reached Lake Zhehai — present-day Issyk-Kul. Soon they encountered nomads, but they were not the Yuezhi; they were the Wusun. From them, Zhang Qian learned that the Yuezhi had moved further on, into the Fergana Valley.
At that time, the territory of modern Fergana was home to a developed country called Dayuan, with its capital at Guishan. In its well-cultivated valley, dotted with about seventy towns and settlements, wheat and rice were grown. But the Yuezhi were not there either. In Dayuan, Zhang Qian discovered they had moved with their herds even further — into Bactria and Sogdiana, into the valley of the Amu Darya River. He followed.
The ruler of Dayuan provided Zhang Qian with guides to the lands of the Kangju tribe, who roamed the steppes near the Syr Darya. It was the Kangju who finally helped the envoy locate the Yuezhi. Their encampment was situated in the valley of the Middle Zeravshan, but the ruler was not there. He was in Bactra (modern-day Balkh in Afghanistan) — the capital of the Greco-Bactrian Kingdom recently conquered by the Yuezhi. Zhang Qian headed there.
In Bactra, he met with the Yuezhi chieftain, who declined the proposed alliance with China. After staying in Bactra for another year, in 127 BCE, Zhang Qian decided to return home. His route back led through the Alay Valley and the upper reaches of Yarkand, skirting the Pamir Mountains from the north. Incidentally, he called the Pamir Tsung-ling — the "Onion Mountains" — because of the abundance of wild mountain onions (anzur) on their slopes.
Further on, his path skirted the edge of the Taklamakan Desert and crossed a vast plain with the wandering lake Lop Nur. From Lop Nur, the route ran along the northern slopes of the Altyn-Tagh through a barren and wild land. To the south, double and triple chains of mountains towered, their peaks sometimes crowned with eternal snow. To the north stretched a stony, waterless desert. In summer, the scorching daytime sun heated this sterile earth, covering the sharp gravel with a brown crust. In winter, fierce blizzards raged, and icy winds carried clouds of stinging snow and dust.
Traversing these terrible lands, Zhang Qian managed to fall into the hands of the Xiongnu once again. This time he spent another year in captivity but escaped again — now together with his new wife and his unfailing companion, the hunter Ganfu, the only one left alive from the entire embassy. Zhang Qian later noted that it was only thanks to Ganfu that he survived and was able to complete his journey. In total, covering more than fourteen thousand kilometers, he finally arrived back in China. He had accomplished a truly epic journey — remarkable not only for his own time but in the entire annals of history, where such feats are few and far between.
Part II. The Road Born from Knowledge
Upon returning home, Zhang Qian prepared a meticulous report. He described not only the places he had visited personally but also those he had gathered intelligence about from conversations with merchants and other travelers. The report contained remarkably accurate data on the peoples and geographical features of Central and Western Asia — stretching as far as the Caspian and Aral Seas, the Persian Gulf, and the Mediterranean coast.
Based on his intelligence, a trade route was established, which later became the southern branch of the Great Silk Road. It led to India through Burma and Assam, connecting China with the Ganges Valley via the seas of Southeast Asia. Zhang Qian had pieced this information together during his stay in Bactra.
The northern branch proved more difficult: the path to the west ran through the Xiongnu lands. Yet here, too, Zhang Qian's information played a decisive role. Using his reconnaissance, the Chinese army launched several successful campaigns against the Xiongnu. They were pushed far to the north, and then, utterly routed, forced to flee beyond the Khangai Mountains.
Through the territories cleared of the Xiongnu — via the so-called "Nanshan Corridor" — China established direct trade routes. Contact was made with the states of Dayuan, Yuezhi, and Bactria. This marked the true beginning of the main artery of the Great Silk Road — one of the most vital trade highways in human history.
Silk from the Chinese Empire now flowed to countries lying to the west, all the way to the Roman Empire. In return came goods from Europe, Central Asia, and the Middle East. This route functioned successfully for about a hundred years. However, a trade road needs constant guarding and maintenance. When turmoil erupted in China and yet another dynastic change occurred, the road was abandoned and fell into disuse for a whole millennium… for nearly a thousand years.
Part III. The Second Birth: Genghis Khan and the Daoist Monk
The second revival of the Great Silk Road happened during the era of Genghis Khan's conquests. Once again, it was thanks to a journey — this time by a Chinese Daoist philosopher named Changchun, a former abbot of a monastery.
In 1221, Changchun traveled from Beijing to Mongolia, where, by order of Genghis Khan, an armed escort was already waiting to guard him on his journey. Genghis Khan himself was, at that moment, on campaign towards Samarkand. Changchun spent three years on the road. He was constantly accompanied by his disciple Li Zhichang, who meticulously recorded every event and every object they encountered along the way.
Finally, in 1223, the philosopher arrived in Samarkand and was received by Genghis Khan himself. Changchun gave the Khan a detailed account of his journey. Genghis Khan was pleased: his rapidly expanding empire was in vital need of established and secure trade routes — whether new or well-forgotten old ones. And now, across the vastness of the Mongol Empire, there was someone to guard and maintain them.
Once again, caravans began to travel the Great Silk Road. Skirting the Taklamakan Desert on both sides, they converged in Kashgar, from where the route split again and led to the Western countries in two directions: the southern branch crossed the Pamir, while the northern one went through the Fergana Valley.
Such is the history of the double opening of the Great Silk Road — or, as it was called in China, "The Road of Ten Thousand Li."
