The History of China - #10 - W. Zhou 2: The King Who Cried "Barbarian!"
Episode Date: January 21, 2014This episode, we start at the mid-point of the Western Zhou period, and follow it all the way down to its conclusion with the shattering of Royal authority, the sacking of the capital, and the vengean...ce of the White Wolf Clans on the Zhou. By the end of the episode, though a Zhou king will remain on the throne, we've seen the end (for now) of a unified state in anything but name... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Transcript
Discussion (0)
You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast.
History isn't black and white, yet too often it's presented as such.
Grey History, The French Revolution is a long-form history podcast dedicated to exploring the
ambiguities and nuances of the past.
From a revolution of hope and liberty to the infamous Reign of terror. You can't understand the modern world
without understanding the French Revolution. So search for the French Revolution today.
Hello, and welcome to the History of China.
Episode 9. The King Who Cried Barbarian Last time, we left off at the end of King Cheng's quasi-dismissal to the holy city of Luoyang
from the real power behind the throne, his uncle, the Duke of Zhou.
This week, we pick up with his son, a 40-foot-tall, 25,000-pound ape, no, no, no, no, I've got
my notes mixed up.
We pick up this week with Cheng's son, King Kong, with an A, a normally proportioned human
being.
Kang was not born as Kang, of course.
Like all Chinese kings, it's a name that was given posthumously to his reign and person.
His name at birth was Ji Zhao.
Over the course of his reign, he continued the policy of aggressive expansion as instituted by his uncle, the Duke
of Zhou, or that is, his father, King Cheng. The bulk of the conquests focused on the regions
lying beyond the northern and western borders of the empire. It is important to note that while
the Zhou had fielded an impressive military force from the outset, they hadn't left the trappings of rule dull their armed forces.
To the contrary, the Zhou military continued to grow in both size and prowess with each successive year,
becoming more and more adept at suppressing disloyal states and expanding the rule of the Zhou from Feng Hao.
Their standing military was split into two major divisions,
the Six Armies of the West and the Eight Armies of Chengzhou,
both of which were more than a match for virtually any other force in the region.
Though the land and people were said to prosper under his 24-year reign,
there was a rebellion of note to the west,
likely from the far western state of Qin.
Nevertheless, this was put down with little fuss. The remainder of his reign was, for all intents
and purposes, uneventful and prosperous. But in 996 BCE, King Kong met his end,
though in this instance we'll omit the biplanes and the
Empire State Building.
Kong's eldest son, Prince Ji Xia, was next in line for the throne, and took the name
King Zhao.
The traditional and moralistic tales of his reign describe Zhao as somewhat incompetent,
not particularly bright, and rather hedonistic and short-sighted,
and under whom the Zhou began to falter.
This last bit isn't strictly true, though.
That dubious distinction will fall to his heir.
He spent much of his reign, as was the norm, continuing to invade, conquer, and subjugate the border peoples,
both within and outside of the kingdom.
Though the Zhou were rapidly expanding, there were still pockets of territory
that their influence had surrounded but not penetrated.
As you will be able to see from this episode's companion post on thehistoryofchina.wordpress.com,
the Western Zhou's area of influence looked a
little like a wedge of Swiss cheese. To the southwest of the kingdom, on the far side of
the mighty Han River, lay the state of Chu, comfortably situated in the lush Yangtze River
Valley. Chu, like Zhou, had started out as a small, unassuming state. It had been awarded to the heir
of Zhuanshu, who had been ancient King Wen's teacher. But it had proved itself both militarily
aggressive and its leaders adept at coercion and deception. Though it had initially been neighboured by the state of 额, it wasted little time
in swallowing it up whole and adding it to the domain of 柱.
Such expansionism had resulted by the time of King Zhao's reign in Chu being the largest
single state in the Zhou Kingdom.
Though their rationale is, unfortunately, unclear, the Viscount of Chu turned treacherous in the
18th century of Zhao's reign. Knowing the king was extremely fond of exotic plants and
wildlife, the Viscount sent a message to Zhao telling him of a fabulous rare bird his trappers
had managed to ensnare, and urging the king to come and see this amazing creature at once.
Dao was duly enticed, and set out for the capital of Chu and this amazing bird, accompanied
by the six armies of the west, of course.
Dao may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but he also wasn't a total idiot.
The royal retinue ferried to the far side of the Han River and made their way inward,
but the Viscount of Chu had laid for them a trap, which was sprung along the way.
Though taken by surprise and terribly outmaneuvered, the six armies of the west
managed to stave off defeat long enough to afford their king a chance to escape,
and he retreated at full speed back to the banks of the Han.
Zhao and his personal escort made it to the ferries and departed for the far side.
Unfortunately, the heroic sacrifice of the six armies was undone, not by the Chu soldiers in
pursuit, but rather by a twist of fate. His ferry was partway across the river when it sprang a leak and sank, taking
the hapless king and the remnants of his retinue with it to a watery grave in 977 BCE. The six
armies of the West was effectively annihilated in one fell swoop and any survivors scattered.
This unexpected end to such an enormous portion of the Zhou's military might
would have far-reaching consequences. Though their counterpart force, the Eight Armies of Chengzhou,
would remain and continue to push outward to the north and east, the Zhou king's capacity to project
power south of the Han River was brought to an effective and permanent halt. As such, Chu, its satellite states,
and the other unassociated groups to the south, would find themselves largely beyond the political
or military power of Feng Hao and the Zhou. Thus, going forward, they will expand their own autonomy
far faster and more insistently than their northern brethren.
With the death of Zhao, his son and heir, crown prince Ji Man,
would become King Mu of Zhou in 976 BCE.
He will have an exceptionally long reign for a change,
and is certainly an interesting person to discuss,
even if much of it is wild flights of fantasy.
Though certainly not entirely outside of the realm of possibility, we'll begin in on the tall tales
with his supposed age, 105. Stories tell of the sagely Mu having been well-traveled, rather
exceptionally so, and had traveled some 90,000 kilometers into the
wilds of the vast unknown west.
That's pretty incredible, especially when considering that the east-west circumference
of the earth is a mere 40,000 kilometers, meaning he must have gone all the way around
on foot twice.
But possibly the most interesting story that we swear like totally happened
comes from a text from the 3rd century BCE called the Lianzi.
According to the tale, an artificer named Yan Shi wished to impress his king
and so presented Mu with a life-sized
automaton. Quote, the king stared at the figure in astonishment. It walked with rapid strides,
moving its head up and down so that anyone would have taken it for a live human being. The artificer touched its chin and it began singing perfectly in tune.
He touched its hand and it began posturing, keeping perfect time.
As the performance was drawing to an end, the robot winked its eye and made advances
on the ladies in attendance, whereupon the king became incensed and would have had Yan Shi executed on the spot
had the latter not, in mortal fear, instantly taken the robot to pieces to let him see what
it really was. And indeed, it turned out to be only a construction of leather, wood, adhesive,
and lacquer, variously colored white, black, blue examining it closely the king found all the internal organs complete
liver gall heart lungs spleen kidneys stomach and intestines and over these muscles joints, skin, teeth, and hair, all of them artificial.
The king tried the effect of taking away the heart, and found that the mouth could no longer speak.
He took away the liver, and the eyes would no longer see.
He took away the kidneys, and the legs lost their powers of locomotion.
The king was delighted.
Unquote.
That, if nothing else, certainly reveals an interesting ideation of anatomy.
But probably more trustworthy are accounts of Mu being a man with more ambition than wisdom. But in spite of this reputation, he did, sagely,
make adjustments to the Zhou's governmental systems that broke at least portions of it away
from the dice roll of hereditary succession, and toward a more meritocratic system based on
knowledge of administrative skills. Mu also proved himself a capable military commander-in-chief.
Despite the devastating loss of the six armies to the treachery of Chu,
the eight armies of Chengzhou were in fact stronger than ever under Mu's direction.
In every direction but south, the Zhou's military might reached its zenith,
and King Mu flexed that muscle through,
what else, conquest. From the northwest, the Chuanrong tribes, which can be translated as
the White Wolf Clans, had been harrying the border states with repeated incursions.
Faced with such a blatant affront to his authority, Mu amassed his armies and invaded
the White Wolf territories. To each clan he encountered, he offered the same terms,
submit and swear loyalty to Zhou, or be ground to dust. The majority of the Wolf clans,
seeing the futility of such a force amassed against them, submitted, albeit grudgingly,
to the supremacy of the Zhou king. There were, however, those who continued to defy Mu.
True to his word, he leveled their villages, captured and imprisoned their chieftains,
and brought home five new wolf banners to hang in the halls of Feng Hao.
Those who had sworn loyalty to Mu were vassalized, though they, unsurprisingly, held a rather significant grudge.
The strong-arm tactics of Mu,
though successful in the short term at subduing the wolves' prowlings,
would plant the seeds of hatred and vengeance,
ready to germinate when the time was right what's more to the to the throne of Zhou,
the Shu and Wu were deemed to be tainted with the stain of barbarism,
and were only semi-civilized, unlike the Hua Xia Han to their immediate north.
This tickles me in particular, because the state of Wu will, some 2300 years later, be the eventual home
of one of the most populous, and its residents will be sure to tell you, most civilized cities
on earth, where I call home, Shanghai. Xu began raiding and pillaging further and further into
the interior of the Zhou Kingdom proper, even being sighted as
far to the west as the distant capital city.
This, of course, drew the attention and response of King Mu and his eight armies.
But the Shu were no pushovers.
Disciplined and organized, and easily one of the largest states associated with the Zhou, they were able to stave off the military incursions of Zhou and fight his forces to a stalemate.
Recognizing the impasse in which he found himself,
Mu swallowed his pride and agreed to meet with the leaders of Shu and talk terms.
Negotiations were fruitful, if decidedly in favor of the renegade state. In return for
little more than a secession of raiding parties and a nominal submission to the Zhou's authority,
the Lord of Shu was granted pardon, increased lands, and further power over its neighbor states.
In 922, after five and a half decades of rule, conquest, and expansion,
King Mu of Zhou died, leaving the throne to crown prince Ji Yihu.
Prince Yihu took the name King Gong and reigned for 22 years before dying in 900 BCE.
And that is really all the information there seems to be on King Gong. This leads us to
the curious tale of the two King Yis of Zhou. Crown Prince Ji Jian assumed power in 899 BCE,
taking the name Yi. Unlike many other Chinese monarchs, Yi's date of coronation is verified by the fact that there are records of a solar eclipse that same year.
Though that detail survived, little else regarding his short rule has,
which only was seven years.
As to why his reign was so short,
well, it's widely speculated that his own uncle may have instigated an overthrow. This
possibly treacherous uncle was the elderly Prince Ji Bifang, who after succeeding his nephew in a
coup d'etat became King Xiao around 892 BCE. His reign would prove just as ill-documented as his nephew's, and even shorter.
One important event, though, was Xiao's decision to appoint the royal horse breeder, Fei Zi, as the new lord of the small fife, Qin.
Wanting to reward Fei Zi for his decades of service to the armies of Zhou. Xiao had initially wanted to dethrone Feizi's half-brother
and install the horse breeder as the Marquis of Shen to the far west. But the indigenous Rong
tribes within and surrounding Shen were on favorable terms with the current Marquis,
and Xiao was dissuaded from this course of action when it became clear that they would likely revolt if
he were to go through with the deposition. Thus, he went to Plan B, which was installing Feizi as
the petty lord of the tiny attached state of Qin, a minor shun satellite in modern Gansu province
in north-central China. The gift, though considerably less than what Xiao would have
wished, was well received by the new lord of Qin and put to good use. Over the following six
centuries, Qin will go from attached satellite state to major vassal to regional power and beyond.
Keep Qin in mind, because we're far from through with this backwater,
semi-barbarian state.
In all human history, there are few stories like that of ancient Egypt. On the banks of the Nile,
these people created one of the most enduring and significant
cultures. Their tale comes to life in the History of Egypt podcast. Every week, we explore the tales
of this amazing culture, from the legendary days of creation and the gods, all the way to Cleopatra,
and everything in between. The History of Egypt podcast is written and produced
by a trained Egyptologist. We go much deeper than your average documentary or magazine article
to uncover tales of life, great endeavours, and the amazing arc of a mighty kingdom.
The History of Egypt podcast is available on all podcasting platforms, apps, and websites. Come, visit
ancient Egypt and experience a legendary culture.
We have had several run-ins so far in the course of this podcast with the steppe peoples to the
north of China. As of yet, they've played but an ancillary
role in the evolution of the Chinese state. But in the 13th century, a man will rise to power among
his people and fundamentally reorder the world, including China, to his iron will. He was Genghis
Khan, and he is one of the most fascinating figures in world history. Now, the in-depth biography of the man and his legend,
Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford,
is available on audible.com.
And for all listeners of the History of China podcast,
Audible is offering a free audiobook download with a risk-free 30-day trial
to give you the opportunity to check out their service.
Whether you choose history, sci-fi,
biographies, mysteries, or from any of their other genre categories, Audible has more than
100,000 selections to choose from and is the world's largest supplier of downloadable audio.
To download your free audiobook today, go to audibletrial.com slash china. Again,
that's audibletrial.com slash China for your free audio book.
King Xiao succumbed to old age in 886 BCE, and though he may have had a designated heir of his own,
the major lords agreed that Xiao's quasi-usurpation would not continue beyond him.
They restored the line of King Yi to the throne, in the person of his son, King Yi.
Yes, both father and son were called King Yi, but not the same Yi.
Yi, the elder's character, means honorable and virtuous,
while Yi, the younger's character, is the pictogram
of a person holding a bow, which had come to be the word describing all of the peoples to the east
of the kingdom, most notably the Dong Yi, as discussed in episode 7. Yi Jr., though the lord's
hopes had been high, proved to be an ineffective ruler. Early in his reign, he sought
to heavy-handedly insert himself into a squabble between the Marquis of G and Duke I of Chi.
The king had ended up siding with the Marquis, and had the duke boiled alive in a large cauldron.
Then, he installed the duke's younger half-brother as the new lord of the duchy.
Such a ham-handed resolution didn't earn King Yi many friends among his vassal lords,
and retaining their good graces had become ever more important to the Zhou kings as time went on.
The Fengjian feudal system King Wu had put into practice had worked so well initially
because all of the important positions had been the king's immediate family and closest allies.
But the system was now almost 200 years old, and the hereditary nature of the lord's stations
meant that many of those once close family connections had grown increasingly distant, to the point that
many were no more than the most distant of cousins, like Barack Obama and Dick Cheney cousins.
The divestment of regional power to the respective lords had freed the king from many of the
overwhelmingly burdensome aspects of rule, but it had also made the
throne ever more reliant on increasingly distant, autonomous vassals.
Whatever steps King Yi might have wished to take in order to restore some semblance of
royal authority were further stymied by disruption emanating from south of the Han River as well as the east.
Almost at once, the Dong Yi tribes and the ever-rebellious state of Chu
renewed their hostilities against the Zhou kingdom.
Such conflicts would occupy and frustrate Yi the Younger
right up until his death in 877 BCE, after little more than seven years on the throne.
Thus, crown prince Ji Hu succeeded his father and assumed the name King Li.
On this specific King of Zhou, the grand historian Sima Qian had some particularly choice words,
specifically that he was, quote, a tyrannical king of extravagant pride his corrupt and decadent behavior quickly caused both lords and peasantry to slander and speak ill of him and just ignored the insults. Just kidding. Of course he didn't. No, he instituted new laws
decreeing that speaking ill of him was now punishable by death. If the life and times of
King Li are beginning to sound hauntingly familiar, they should. Seriously, just about
all that's missing from his reign is yet another ridiculous wine lake and like jie of shia and out the end of the chou dynasty altogether
the peasantry was joined by many of the soldiers and the li of chou was quickly captured and sent into exile there were a number of factors that ensured the survival of the Zhou
as a dynasty past this point. For one, despite his rampant unpopularity, King Li had managed
to surround himself with a number of ministers who were both loyal and altruistic. Unrealizing
the inevitability of their king's overthrow these ministers convinced li to allow them to spirit his son away to safety thus the infant prince chi ching was safely out of harm's way and positioned to eventually inherit the throne Of course, none of that would have mattered if there had been a charismatic vassal lord
maneuvering to install himself as monarch in Li's stead.
But none of the vassals had much interest in installing a new power on the throne.
Enjoying their regional supremacy, a detoothed figurehead would serve them far better than
a new and powerfully centralized dynasty after all their inherited positions of power were themselves a product of zhou rule
and they might have been uninstalled should a new line of kings come to the fore instead order was quickly restored under what would come to be known as the Gonghe Regency.
The origin of the name Gonghe is itself a bit of a question.
Sima Qian wrote the word using the characters for joint harmony
and describes rulership as being jointly held by the current Duke of Zhou,
who was, it should be said, the great, great, grand something of the last episodes,
the Duke of Zhou, and the Duke of Shao.
Certainly, it makes quite a bit of sense.
If the state of Zhou was one of the prime movers during the interregnum period,
it behooved them as a house to prop up their own dynasty.
The Bamboo Annals, however, posits a different explanation.
Rather than a joint rule, the Gong He regency, it says, was solely held by the Count of Gong,
whose name was He.
Gong. He, get it? Now, while I do tend to take
the side of the Grand Historian on most issues over the bamboo annals, in this instance, the
annals seem to have the right of it. Bronze inscriptions indicate that it was the Count of
Gong who held power during the interregnum.
Regardless, the Gonghe is an important period for several reasons. Its start date, 841 BCE,
was the oldest date that Sima Qian felt he could assert with any confidence. This is because he had painstakingly constructed a year-by-year chronology from his own time
backwards to this year, but found he could go no further.
Earlier than this point, as we've seen time and again in this podcast, events become so
fuzzy and nonspecific in terms of dates, contradicting one another, etc., that there is more confusion
and frustration than real information.
Much, much later, the term as transcribed by Sima Qian will be reappropriated by the
20th century Chinese to mean republic.
For instance, the modern state in Chinese is known as 中华人民共和国, which word for word translates as China People's Republic Nation.
It must be remembered, however, that its modern meaning has no bearing on its initial meaning.
There was exactly nothing Republican about the Gonghe
regency. It was still a perfectly feudal system, just one temporarily without a monarch per se.
That whole without a monarch situation would be rectified 13 years later when Prince Ji Jing was deemed old enough to rule in his own right in 827 BCE.
He took the name King Xuan, and his wife was Queen Qiang.
Xuan came to the throne, predictably, neutered of any real authority.
For the last 13 years, after all, his lords had governed their own affairs as the highest authorities of the land,
and were in no real mood to alter that state of affairs, even with a nominal monarch reinstated.
What the lords of Zhou wanted was a nice, quiet figurehead to oversee ceremonies, stay in the royal domain, and basically shut up about anything else.
Xuan, however, had other ideas. He sought to prove his ability to lead by engaging an invading
barbarian force with his own army in the fifth year of his reign. The Book of Songs tells of
battle against the people known as the Xianyun, being met
near the center of the Zhou state itself, and more than 3,000 chariots being wielded
against the invaders.
The Xianyun fought fiercely, and themselves utilized chariots in battle, but in the end
were overpowered and driven from the kingdom once more. Flush with his show of strength,
King Xuan would later attempt to intervene militarily
in the internal struggles of several of his lords,
specifically succession struggles in the states of Lu, Wei, and Qi.
As one might imagine, this did not go over well with his vassals.
Again, they wanted a king who would sit on his throne and look pretty,
not one who was going to stick his nose into their sovereign affairs.
From this point on, Sima Qian writes,
the many lords mostly rebelled against royal commands.
Notch arrow, draw bow, aim at foot, and fire.
Thoroughly castigated and put into his box of borderline irrelevance,
King Xuan would continue to quote-unquote rule from Feng Hao
until his death in 782 BCE.
Thus, we come to our 12th king of Zhou, and in fact our final king of the Western
Zhou period in 781, when Prince Qi Gongsheng was crowned King You at the age of 14. You's reign
did not exactly get off to a great start. year after his coronation a large earthquake hit the state of chin on the western border of the kingdom
and as soothsayers were wont to do a mystic calling himself bo yang fu started going around calling the event a foretelling of the Zhou's destruction. As had been customary,
You was married to the daughter of one of his vassals,
in this case, the Marquis of Shen to the far west of the kingdom.
You's wife, known appropriately enough as Queen Shen,
served to cement the relationship between the new Zhou king and his powerful vassal.
Their marriage was fruitful, bore You, a son,
crowned Prince Ji Yijiu.
The seeming stability of this situation would be upended, however,
in 779 by the arrival of a new concubine at court.
The slave girl, Bao Si, was, according to the more legendary tellings,
the most beautiful woman of all time, and born to a virgin mother after a strange black dragon lizard had sprouted from ancient dragon saliva
and crawled up her arm. Yes, her arm. Dragon woman or not, though, Bao Si quickly gained favor at court, and of the king himself. In due time, she too
produced a son, Bo Fu. King You grew ever more distant with his queen and heir, and quickly
came to prefer the company of his consort and their offspring. Bao Si, however, was of an almost
permanently melancholy disposition.
No matter how he tried, the king could not seem to make his lover smile.
So he sought the advice of his courtiers, promising one thousand ounces of gold to the one whose ideas could make Bao Si laugh.
At this, someone came up with the brilliant idea of lighting the warning beacons.
That is, the series of huge fires that could be sequentially lit to rapidly summon the king's vassals and their armies should Fung Hao find itself in danger.
Much like the system used in the Lord of the Rings films. Clearly, it would be hilarious if they, you know, pranked their vassals into coming when their, get this, totally wasn't even an invading army. King Yo thought this idea was
awesome and couldn't possibly backfire in any way. So he ordered the beacons lit.
The nobles saw the emergency distress beacon
and scrambled to assist their king in his hour of need.
With all due haste, they gathered their local forces
and raced to the likely besieged capital,
only to find not an invading barbarian army,
but the king, his court, and the consort Bao Si
double over laughing at how stupid these soldiers were for responding to the emergency beacon.
Said soldiers, and the lord commanders, curiously, didn't find the situation quite as funny as the royal court.
And grumbling, they returned to their lands. King Yeo duly rewarded the courtier
who had come up with such an amazing prank, and then was struck with an idea.
If tricking the army into coming once was hilarious, tricking them again might be even
more hilarious. And it was. It was even funnier the second time they did it.
Now, it may be obvious to you and I where this story is headed, but to be fair, Aesop wouldn't
even be born for another century or so, and King Yo certainly couldn't read ancient Greek.
So can we really fault him for not knowing the dangers of crying wolf?
Yes, I posit we can.
Ultimately, all of this canoodling with Bao Si
somehow got it into You's head that she would totally
make a better queen than that frigid old Queen Shen.
So he announced that henceforth, Baozi would be his new wife and queen,
and Shen could just deal with it.
This, of course, suddenly made Bo Fu into Crown Prince Bo Fu,
and made the artist formerly known as Crown Prince Ji Yizhou yesterday's news.
Both the former queen and the former heir were then carted off to Chengzhou to be, well, forgotten.
Surprising exactly no one except for the king himself,
the Marquis of Shen did not take the news of this ongoing debacle particularly well.
Having his daughter's husband cavorting around with concubines was no big thing.
Heck, everyone who was anyone did it.
But stripping her, and more importantly, Prince E.G.O., of their positions and inheritance in favor of some bastard half-brother was a bridge too far.
The Marquis of Shen rallied his forces, those of his satellite states,
and even enlisted the White Wolf tribes, who, it should be said, took very little convincing,
being that they had longed for revenge against the Zhou for generations at this
point. Together, they marched directly on Fenghao in 771 BCE. As the rebel army approached the
capital, King You scrambled to prepare the meager defenses of his domain, and most importantly,
to summon his loyal vassals to help him in this dire
emergency. He ordered the warning beacons lit, and you can probably guess where this goes from here.
The vassal lords had been fooled at least twice, and they were in no mood to yet again be the butt of the same tired joke.
They did not respond to the very real emergency,
and Feng Hao was quickly seized and sacked by the combined forces of Shen.
King You and Queen Bao Si were captured and dragged before the Marquis,
who had, frankly, had enough of this idiot's foolishness.
He ordered You's execution immediately,
and that of the boy who stood in the way of his grandson's legitimate succession, Prince Bo Fu.
As for Bao Si, she was paid a sum of money, like some common whore, and summarily ejected from the capital. Not long thereafter, she would be caught up in a raiding party of the White Wolf barbarians, and would end up hanging herself to evade capture.
So the king was dead, and long live the king. With Feng Hao a smoldering ruin, Prince Yizhou decided to remain in the eastern city of Chengzhou and be enthroned
there as King Ping of Zhou. Not that it mattered that much anymore. With the execution of King
You, what little authority the Zhou kings had held, even nominally at this point, was shattered.
From this time forward, the Zhou kings will act as
little more than ceremonial figureheads, and the states will begin their three-century spiral
towards independence and civil war. This will be the Spring and Autumn period.
Spring and Autumn will have to wait, however, because we are fast approaching one of the
most important holidays in all of China, which also marks the largest human migration in
history, Chunjie, or Spring Festival, which is also known as the Chinese New Year.
Next week, we'll take a time-out from the Joe to look at this ancient and still very
popular holiday. Thank you want to learn about the world's oldest civilizations, find out how they
were rediscovered, follow the story of Mark Antony and Cleopatra's descendants over 10 generations,
or take a deep dive into the Iron Age or the Hellenistic era, then check out the Ancient
World Podcast. Available on all podcasting platforms or go to ancientworldpodcast.com.
That's the Ancient World Podcast.