The Western Xia empire: A decade-long fascination
From 1038 to 1227, this continental desert empire was a force to be reckoned with in Inner Asia, and pioneered a new religious statecraft of esoteric Buddhism
In 1038, just short of three decades before William of Normandy’s French knights engaged Harold Godwinson’s Anglo-Saxons at Hastings and began a decades-long occupation and Francization of English society, a man called Li Yuanhao declared himself the first emperor of a new domain that would variously be known as the Tangut Empire, the Xixia (or Western Xia in English), or, as the Tanguts themselves would probably have preferred it, the White High Great Xia State. The Tanguts were descended from the Qiang people, who themselves migrated from Tibet More strikingly, they also came to refer to themselves as the State of Ten Thousand Secrets: wanbeiguo in Chinese.
This continental empire spanned the desert of Inner Asia, controlling for some time the famed Hexi Corridor that connected past Chinese empires to westward regions. Their domain covered a stretch that includes several northwestern provinces of today’s China:
Ningxia
Gansu
East Qinghai
North Shaanxi
Northeast Xinjiang
Southwest Inner Mongolia, and
Southern Outer Mongolia.
They simultaneously took on the Liao Dynasty, or Khitans, as well as the Chinese Song. The Xixia did something that not even past “barbarian” confederations or nomadic leaders had done. With Li Yuanhao declaring himself emperor, the Chinese state was to recognize, in the arena of international diplomacy, the theoretical ideal of equal nations. In the past, like in the Han and Tang, even weak or bullied emperors could conceivably bribe or appease nomadic rivals to the north while still conferring on them officialdoms, noble titles, and imperial surnames (something an overlord would do). Li Yuanhao, who himself was conferred an imperial surname by the Chinese emperor, went above and beyond and forced the Song to recognize him as a peer.
The Tanguts also went above and beyond when it came to military prowess and technology. They had an elite cavalry called the Iron Hawks or tieyaozi, and might possibly have pioneered early cannons in Asia (based on contextual evidence around the Wuwei Bronze Cannon that was discovered in Gansu in 1980). They also were geniuses in assimilating the Chinese state’s bureaucracy and administrative strengths. They brought together Confucianism and Buddhism, eventually patronizing Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism, with various governmental roles for senior monastics. Thanks to said government efficiency and centralization, the Tanguts created their own written script while simultaneously translating the Buddhist canon into that very language. This achievement, in my mind, remains unprecedented in world history.
It was in 2014, two years into my day job as a journalist of religion, that I began to pay attention to this frustratingly complicated entity of history: largely because there are so few written records or epigraphic material about or by the Tanguts, since the entire state was destroyed by the Mongols in 1227. Their capital in Inner Mongolia, Khara-khoto, actually prospered under the newly ascendant, Mongol-led Yuan dynasty, but was not spared by the Ming Chinese in 1372. Nothing remains in Khara-khoto today except for the city walls, some spires or stupas that might hint at the origins of their empire’s name.
Researchers from China, Japan, Russia, and beyond have done immensely good work to further our understanding of the Tanguts, but the sheer paucity of materials is such that one is forced to rely on art history, since the Tanguts left behind a decent enough legacy of artistic influence to at least understand parts of their Buddhist religion and spiritual (tantric) priorities.
That is where the Yulin Grottoes in Gansu come in. These caves in the heart of the Chinese desert aren’t as famous as those at Mogao, but several of them are repositories of Western Xia art: specifically Caves 3 and 4. Cave 3 feature murals of the famous pair of bodhisattvas, Manjushri and Samantabhadra (the latter is recognized as a masterpiece of Tangut art), along with mandalas as frescoes.
Much has been made of the Tangut preference for blues and greens: their art probably is less “dazzling” as art from other dynasties like the Tang, but the serene exquisiteness of their blues and greens, along with their attention to the detail of the subjects, expressions, and clothes, more than makes up for it (and in my opinion, surpasses the Buddhist cave art of every other imperium).
On the 21st, while on a trip on what I call the “Chinese” part of the Silk Road (I was hitting Luoyang, Xi’an, Dunhuang, and parts of the Hexi Corridor), our tour group visited Yulin, which was my third time here. My first time was ten years ago with a tour led by a famous Hong Kong specialist of Dunhuang, Mrs. Mei-yin Lee. I remember my first and second visits here as being respectively terribly hot and dully overcast. But this time, the weather in this deep gorge with a flowing river and lush plantation in the was excellent: sunny yet pleasantly cold. Infrastructure has noticeably improved as recently as 2023, with the walkways and sitting-out areas remarkably comfortable. Even the docents seemed to be more knowledgable this time round, and credit must go to the Dunhuang Academy, which is the institutional steward of this heritage site.
Ever since I became interested in the Western Xia, I have enjoyed every chance to visit Yulin, and pay my respects to the bodhisattvas that the Tanguts worshipped: Samantabhadra, Manjushri, and Water Moon Avalokiteshvara. Today, I was able to visit the Manjushri Mountain Grottoes, which also feature unique Xixia art. But since I promised not to talk too much about religion on this Substack, I invite you to head to Buddhistdoor Global to see what I’ve reported about this sanctuary that is almost unknown to the Anglophone world. But there are other places untravelled: Ningxia, the heart of Tangut power and where the mausoleums of the emperors are now open to the public, and Inner Mongolia, where Khara-khoto stands, a silent witness to the end of the Tangut imperium. With any luck, we’ll uncover more of the secrets these locales are hiding sooner than later.