by Mary Harrsch © 2025
Even after my intense research into the elite use of human sacrifice as a response to ecological stress across the globe, I must admit I was still appalled upon reading this paper detailing how Neolithic Liangzhu residents shaped human skulls and other bones into everyday tools like bowls, cups, masks, and knives.
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| A finished cup devised from a human skull found in Liangzhu courtesy of Scientific Reports.. |
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| A human skull fashioned into a mask found in Liangzhu courtesy of Scientific Reports |
https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-025-15673-7
The mere idea that urbanization had reached an extent where
the divide between the elite and the general population was so wide that
non-elites were being “recycled” into utilitarian objects brought back to me
scenes from the sci-fi movie “Soylent Green.”
The researchers’ primary explanation is the Urban Anonymity
Hypothesis in which traditional kin-based social structures become loosened or
even fractured and “remains could be treated as materials without malice or
spectacle.” This is supported by the absence of cut marks, evidence of
disarticulation, or burning. Researchers point out this rules out cannibalism,
trophy-taking from enemies, or human sacrifice.
The bones were shaped into six recurring tool shapes (cups,
mask, scrapers, etc) indicating the objects were produced in a repeatable
manufacturing process, a hallmark of craft specialization in a complex society.
The modified bones were not found with elite jade objects or in ritual
contexts. This separates the practice from high-status ceremonies or temple
ritual, placing it in the realm of "everyday craft."
Furthermore, almost 80% of items found in canals and moats
were unfinished and subsequently discarded, leading researchers to conclude
human bones were readily available so artisans could discard unsatisfactory
work without great loss. This points to an urban setting with a relatively high
anonymous individual mortality rate.
The research paper, however, is tightly focused on the mostly
unfinished discards found in the city’s unusual workshop and canal system. An
evaluation of contexts where finished human bone objects were found, however, reveals
a different connotation. Finished human bone tools have not been found in
commoner residential trash pits even though these same middens often contain
finished tools made from animal bone. This indicates human bone tools did not
circulate widely as common household items.
Furthermore, human bone tools have not been found in significant
numbers at other specialized industrial sites within Liangzhu. The vast
majority of finished human bone tools—whether utilitarian scrapers or ritual
skull cups—are concentrated in and around the Zhongjiagang bone workshop
itself. Finished skull cups have also been found in elite burials unearthed in
the peripheral areas of Fuquanshan and Jiangzhuang. Although these burials were
accompanied by the Yue, a battle-axe representing military command and the
right to execute, it was not a practical weapon. Instead, it was a symbol of coercive power
legitimized by the state religion.
In the richest tombs in the core of Liangzhu, however, the
Yue was usually made of jade. For these priest-kings referred to as “Jade Lords,”
the yue was part of a standard "kit" of power-regalia
that also included the cong (cylindrical tube) and bi (disc).
The finest jade yue signaled that their military/executive
authority was as sacred as their religious power.
The elite burials of the "bone-worked
tradition" at Fuquanshan and Jiangzhuang show a clear and deliberate
pattern of grave goods include a yue made of a less valuable stone like
diorite and excluding the cong (symbolizing cosmic
connection) and the bi (symbolizing heaven). This pattern
suggests they were high-ranking, powerful chieftains whose authority was
derived from their connection to the central Liangzhu power structure, but who
were not at the absolute pinnacle of it. They were part of the Liangzhu
system—hence the Yue—but they expressed their power through a
distinct, and perhaps more militaristic or pragmatic, set of symbols centered
on the skull cup, and were denied its ultimate expression in jade.
In essence, their burial goods tell a story of
"second-tier" elite status: powerful enough to command force
(stone Yue) and control a potent ritual tradition (skull cups), but
not powerful enough to claim the celestial, jade-based mandate of the core
Liangzhu priest-kings.
They were not poorer cousins, however, they were deliberately
distinguishing themselves as an elite class with a different ideology. The cong and bi were
the core instruments of the state religion practiced by the Liangzhu "jade
lords." By not including them, these peripheral elites were signaling that
they either did not have access to that level of priestly power or, more
likely, that they practiced a different form of ritual, one centered on the
power of the skull cup. They were a warrior or secular elite whose power base
was focused on military command (the Yue), with its control over
life and death (the skull cup), and even possibly economic control, rather than
the priestly, astrological, and ancestral authority of the jade-based core.
Furthermore, their sudden appearance in 4800 BP and
disappearance in 4600 BP suggests they may have initially been nomadic migrants
to Liangzhu who gained control because of their militaristic tendencies during
a period of ecological stress then lost control possibly because their
worldview and authority waned as ecological conditions further deteriorated.
The Greenland ice cores indicate a massive volcanic eruption
occurred at about 4300 BP. The period leading up to the event was not
climatically stable. The Liangzhu culture likely endured multiple periods of
stress before the final, cataclysmic eruption that resulted in
catastrophic monsoons that ultimately destroyed the civilization. The most
prominent precursor eruption identified in the ice cores is a massive event
dated to around 4660 BP. This eruption, potentially from Mount Aniakchak
in Alaska or another high-latitude volcano, would have caused a significant "volcanic
winter" and years of monsoon disruption, crop failures, and social chaos,
perhaps of an intensity great enough to “dethrone” the warrior-elite of the
bone-working tradition.
The ruling "bone-working" elite, who derived their
legitimacy from their appearance of brutal power and control, are now seen as
failures. Their ideology is discredited. They are blamed for the gods'
displeasure. This leads to their swift overthrow—an internal coup, a popular
rebellion, or usurpation by a rival faction.
One of the first acts of the new regime would be to formally
and violently abolish the previous dynasty's signature practice. The
Zhongjiagang workshop is not just abandoned; it is ceremonially shut down. Its
tools, both finished and unfinished, are cast into the canals as a symbolic
rejection of the old order. The practice is expunged.
There were just a few details that required further investigation.
The bone-working workshop was located in the heart of Liangzhu but the finished
products appeared in elite burials in peripheral areas. Why would the workshop
be constructed in the city’s core when the market was located in the outer
areas? Why have no skull cups been found in elite burials within the city? Perhaps
an examination of the cultural changes that occurred during the reign of
Genghis Khan and his successors would provide a clear model for how a powerful,
non-urban elite can exert control over a sophisticated, urban-centered
civilization without replacing its day-to-day culture.
When the Mongols captured centers of production and wealth,
they didn’t destroy them but co-opted them instead. Comparing this process to
Liangzhu, it explains the construction of the human bone workshop in its core. By
establishing their signature bone workshop in the urban core (Zhongjiagang)
it was their way of captalizing a key "industrial" asset and using
the city's existing infrastructure for their own purposes.
The Mongols introduced new symbols of authority usually
related to their military supremacy. During the Yuan dynasty the Mongols used
the Paiza, a tablet made of gold silver or bronze, that functioned as a
passport and credential. Possessing a Paiza granted the bearer the right to use
the empire's vast relay station system (the Yam), which provided
them with fresh horses, food, and lodging. But, more importantly, it demanded
compliance from all local officials.
The material of the Paiza directly corresponded to the rank
and authority of the bearer, mirroring the Liangzhu hierarchy of jade vs.
stone Yue. A Gold Paiza: was reserved for the highest-ranking
nobles, imperial princes, and especially important envoys. It conferred the
highest level of authority and privilege. The Silver Paiza was Granted
to lower-ranking officials, military commanders, and important diplomats. The Bronze
Paiza was Used by lower-level imperial messengers and officials.
The Paiza was not just a practical tool; it was a piece of
the Khan's own authority made portable. When an official showed their Paiza,
they were, in effect, speaking with the voice of the Great Khan himself. It was
a direct, physical manifestation of the state's power to command resources and
obedience across thousands of miles. By controlling who received a Paiza, the
Mongol central administration controlled movement, communication, and the
exercise of power within the empire. It was the key that unlocked the entire
logistical system of the state.
Like the Great Khan who adopted symbols of power from those
he ruled, the bone-working commander adopted the local ultimate, sacred symbol
of authority, reserved for the supreme ruler and his closest circle in the
capital. That would explain why skull cups have not been found in any of the
elite burials in the core of the city. However, The combination of stone Yue and
skull cups found in peripheral Liangzhu elite burials served like a silver
Paiza, powerful symbols of delegated authority granted to a provincial governor
or general. They showed that the bearer had real, state-sanctioned power (the stone Yue to
command) and a special connection to the ruling regime (the skull cup, a unique
ideological symbol), but it was distinct from and subordinate to the supreme
symbol of the core (the Jade Yue).
The evidence from Liangzhu, therefore, paints a picture far
more nuanced than simple urban anonymity. It reveals a stratified society where
a distinct elite faction, possibly arising from migration or internal coup,
established a grim new ideological order centered on the utilitarian power of
human bone. For two centuries, they ruled from the core, their authority
flowing outwards to loyal chieftains who displayed stone Yue and
skull cups like silver Paizas—symbols of real, but delegated, power.
Their sudden disappearance around 4600 BP, coinciding with a
massive volcanic winter, suggests their pragmatic, coercive ideology was
discredited by catastrophe. The workshop was shut down not as an economic
decision, but as a political and religious act. In the end, the story of the
Liangzhu bone tools is not one of faceless recycling, but of a failed dynasty
whose brutal signature practice became its epitaph.
The story of Liangzhu is a stark reminder that the most formidable threats to a civilization are not always external, but can be the direct consequence of the ideologies it tolerates, and the divisions it creates, within its own walls. It is a warning from the deep past: when a society begins to sort its people into categories of the revered and the unimportant, it is a short and perilous path from dehumanizing rhetoric to the literal devaluing of human life.


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