In a remote corner of China, one village tells a strange lineage tale. The story (and some DNA evidence) goes, the locals are the descendants of a band of Roman soldiers from 36 B.C.
In a tiny, remote Chinese village, an ancient Roman bloodline may live on. The town of Liqian sits on the edge of the Gobi desert, 200 miles from any metropolis, and 4,500 miles from Rome. But for half a century, scientists and archaeologists have been trying to prove that the ruddy-skinned, light-eyed, and fair-haired residents of Liqian are lost relatives of a missing Roman battalion of mercenaries that fought against the Chinese long before Marco Polo started east.
In a tiny, remote Chinese village, an ancient Roman bloodline may live on. The town of Liqian sits on the edge of the Gobi desert, 200 miles from any metropolis, and 4,500 miles from Rome. But for half a century, scientists and archaeologists have been trying to prove that the ruddy-skinned, light-eyed, and fair-haired residents of Liqian are lost relatives of a missing Roman battalion of mercenaries that fought against the Chinese long before Marco Polo started east.
The theory was first floated in the 1950s by Professor Homer Dubs of
Oxford University. In a lecture to the China Society in London, he
theorized that Liqian was connected to an ancient battle between the
Huns and the Chinese that was fought, in part, by Roman mercenary
soldiers in 36 B.C.
According to lore, 145 of these original
soldiers of fortune either fled battle or were captured and settled in
the area. Lending proof to this theory was a set of Chinese documents
which show,
2,000 years ago, the city was renamed to mean “prisoners taken in
storming a city.” Another legend claims the villagers descended from a
6,000-person army led by famed Roman General Marcus Crassus’s son that
disappeared without a trace.
Dubs embarked on his investigation
after discovering the name “Liqian” translated to the ancient Chinese
word for Rome. His theory had little physical evidence until 1989, when
archaeologists discovered ruins outside the town that prove a settlement
existed at the time they suspected. Despite interest from international
teams, further outside research was halted at the time due to political
tensions in China following the Tiananmen Square massacres.
Years
later, in 2005, scientists took advantage of a more open government to
draw blood samples from 93 residents of Liqian. Testing yielded shocking
results as to their genetic makeup: some villagers were found to have
DNA that contained 56 percent Caucasian origins.
DNA proof isn’t enough for academics to link the townsfolk directly to a lost Roman army. Scholars argue that the Huns included Caucasians, Asians, and Mongols in their ranks, since the area was an international trading route.
“The county is on the Silk Road, so there were many chances for trans-national marriages,” said Yang Gongle, a professor at Beijing Normal University, to China Daily.
“The ‘foreign’ origin of the Yongchang villagers, as proven by the DNA
tests, does not necessarily mean they are of ancient Roman origin.”
Two
years later, further tests were done, but this time to a disappointing
conclusion. “[A] Roman mercenary origin could not be accepted as true
according to paternal genetic variation,” the study’s authors wrote in the Journal of Human Genetics.
That
hasn’t dissuaded scholars and scientists from what has become a heated
debate. Soon after these results, China and Italy joined forces to open
the Italian Studies Center at Lanzhou University with the intention of
tracking lost Roman descendants in the region, where the 4,000-mile Silk
Road once linked Asia and Europe.
“We hope to prove the legend by
digging and discovering more evidence of China’s early contact with the
Roman Empire,” Yuan Honggeng, head of the center, told China Daily.
One
green-eyed man, nicknamed “Cai the Roman,” became an instant celebrity
due to his decidedly Roman physical characteristics. He told
the Telegraph that had been informed by his great-grandfather that
there remained Roman tombs more than two days’ walk away. But so far,
the lack of proven Roman artifacts or ruins in the town has raised
suspicions.
“For it to be indisputable, one would need to find
items such as Roman money or weapons that were typical of Roman
legionnaires,” anthropologist Maurizio Bettini, of Siena University,
told La Repubblica. “Without proof of this kind, the story of the lost legions is just a legend.”
But the legends are enough proof for the town of Liqian. Before the
DNA testing even began, the villagers seized on the story of their
possible roots and turned it into a tourism industry.
A Roman-esque pillar was erected at the town’s entrance and some
entrepreneurial townsfolk don armor and replica battle wear to entertain
the visitors that have begun to trickle into the remote province. These
tourists, many of whom are Italian, can even stay in a Roman-style
hotel. If there weren’t Romans before in Liqian, there certainly are
now.
By Nina Strochlic
