Qiang of the Upper Min and Their Watchtowers of Fitted Stone

High in the mountains of northwestern Sichuan, where the land climbs from the basin toward the Tibetan plateau, live the Qiang, a people whose name is among the very oldest recorded in Chinese history, carved on the oracle bones of the Shang more than three thousand years ago. Clinging to the steep valleys of the upper Min, they build their villages of fitted stone and raise the tall watchtowers that are the emblem of their ancient way, keeping a religion of the heavens and the sacred white stone.

This account follows the Qiang from their origins in the ancient world of the western marches, through their stone villages and their watchtowers, into their highland language and their old faith of the sky god and the shibi priest, and the towers, embroidery, and new-year rites that mark them. It ends with the Qiang of today, an ancient and small people rebuilding after disaster and keeping their mountain heritage alive in modern China.

The Ancient People of the Cloud Mountains
Rma, Qiang, and the Oldest Name in the Records
The Qiang Tongue and Its Highland Kindred
The High Valleys of Northwestern Sichuan
The Watchtowers, the Chiefs, and the Old Order
The Village, the Clan, and the Bonds of the Qiang
The White Stone, the Heavens, and the Shibi
The Tower, the Embroidery, and the Ways of the Qiang
The Stone Builders, the Embroiderers, and the Masons
Barley, Buckwheat, and the Table of the Highlands
The Qiang New Year, the Mountain Rites, and the Feasts
From the Oracle Bones to the People of Modern China
The Qiang in Modern China

The Ancient People of the Cloud Mountains

High in the mountains of northwestern Sichuan, where the land climbs from the Sichuan basin toward the Tibetan plateau, live the Qiang, a people whose name is among the very oldest recorded in Chinese history. Numbering some three hundred thousand, they cling to the steep valleys of the upper Min river, building their villages of stone and raising the tall watchtowers that are the emblem of their ancient way of life.

The Qiang belong to the Tibeto-Burman branch of the great Sino-Tibetan family, and they are held by many to be close to the ancestral stock from which sprang not only themselves but a whole family of peoples of the western marches, the Tibetans, the Yi, the Naxi, and others. The very name Qiang appears on the oracle bones of the Shang dynasty, more than three thousand years ago, making it one of the oldest ethnic names known.

Yet the ancient Qiang of the records were a broad and shifting category, a name the early Chinese gave to many herding peoples of the western borderlands, and the modern Qiang are but one people who carry it, settled in the mountains of the upper Min. Their forebears, part of this ancient western world, came to dwell in the high Sichuan valleys, where they took up the farming and building that mark them today.

To speak of the modern Qiang is to speak of a mountain people of great antiquity, farmers and herders of the high valleys, masters of building in stone, and keepers of an old religion of the heavens and the sacred white stone. Bearing a name written on the oldest Chinese records, they hold a place apart among the peoples of the country as a living link to the ancient world of the western marches.

Rma, Qiang, and the Oldest Name in the Records

The name Qiang is one of the most ancient in all the Chinese records, appearing on the oracle bones of the Shang dynasty, carved more than three thousand years ago, where it names the herding peoples of the western borderlands with whom the early Chinese warred and traded. Few names in the world can claim so long a written history, and it is by Qiang that the state knows the people today.

Yet the ancient name was a broad one, given by the Chinese to many different peoples of the western marches, herders and highlanders of varied stock, rather than to a single nation. Over the long centuries the peoples called Qiang shifted, split, and were absorbed, and the modern Qiang of the upper Min are only one people, and a small one, who still carry the venerable name.

Among themselves the people call their nation by a name usually rendered Rma or a word close to it, their own word for who they are, distinct from the Chinese label. The Rma of the Sichuan mountains are the living Qiang, the community that bears into the present the name written on the oldest records, though they are far fewer and more settled than the wide-ranging Qiang of ancient times.

Whatever the name, the people know themselves as one, the Rma of the high valleys, keepers of the stone villages and the watchtowers, and heirs to a name of the deepest antiquity. That so old a name should be borne by so small a living people gives the Qiang a special place in the story of China, a fragile thread reaching back to the dawn of its recorded history.

The Qiang Tongue and Its Highland Kindred

The Qiang speak a language of the Tibeto-Burman branch of the Sino-Tibetan family, one of a cluster of highland tongues of the Sichuan-Tibetan borderlands that scholars group as the Qiangic languages. It is a tonal language in some of its forms, and it is divided into a northern and a southern branch so different that speakers of the two can scarcely understand one another, a mark of the broken, mountainous country in which the people live.

So deep are the divisions between the Qiang dialects that they function almost as separate languages, and a Qiang of one valley may need Chinese to speak with a Qiang of another. This great variety, unusual in so small a people, reflects the isolation of the steep valleys, where each community kept to its own speech through the long centuries with little to bind the dialects together.

For all their long history, the Qiang never developed a writing of their own, and their store of song, legend, and ritual was carried by memory and by mouth, kept above all by the shibi, the priests, who held the sacred chants and the lore of the people. The great body of Qiang tradition lived entirely in the spoken and the sung word, a remarkable oral inheritance.

In the modern age standard Chinese has long been the language of writing, of school, and of dealings beyond the valley, and most Qiang are bilingual, using Chinese for the wider world and their own tongue at home. The deep divisions of the dialects and the pressure of Chinese make the Qiang language fragile, and its keeping among the young is a matter of concern for those who cherish this ancient highland speech.

The High Valleys of Northwestern Sichuan

The homeland of the Qiang is the mountainous northwest of Sichuan, above all the valleys of the upper Min river and its tributaries, where the land rises steeply from the Sichuan basin toward the eastern edge of the Tibetan plateau. The greater number live in the counties of Mao, Wenchuan, Li, and Songpan, in the autonomous prefecture that the Qiang share with the Tibetans, in a country of high peaks, deep gorges, and swift rivers.

This is a land of great height and steepness, its slopes rising thousands of feet from the valley floors, its climate dry and harsh in the rain-shadow of the mountains, with cold winters and hot summers. The Qiang settled the middle slopes and the terraces above the rivers, high enough to escape the floods and the heat of the valley, where they cleared their fields and grazed their flocks on the mountainsides.

On these steep slopes the Qiang built their villages of stone, clusters of flat-roofed houses of fitted rock climbing the hillside, and among them the tall watchtowers, some many storeys high, that are the emblem of the Qiang and once guarded the villages and the valleys. The famous village of Taoping, with its towers and its maze of stone lanes, stands as a marvel of this mountain architecture.

Rooted to their high valleys and their stone villages, and gathered above all along the upper Min, the Qiang made their homeland in one of the most rugged corners of Sichuan. It is a land shaped by mountain and river, by terrace and tower, where an ancient people kept their language, their religion, and their building through the long centuries on the marches between the Chinese and the Tibetan worlds.

The mountains over Diexi Lake in the Qiang country

The Watchtowers, the Chiefs, and the Old Order

In the days before the reach of the modern state, the Qiang lived in their stone villages under the sway of custom, the guidance of elders, and, above them, local chiefs and the officials of the empire on the marches. Each village was a community of farming and herding households, ordered by the ties of clan and the authority of the old men, and defended by the tall watchtowers that rose among the houses.

These watchtowers, built of fitted stone without mortar and rising many storeys, were the emblem and the defence of the old Qiang world. From them the villagers watched for danger, took refuge in war, and stored their goods, and their building was a marvel of skill, for the tall towers stood firm through the ages and even through the earthquakes that shake this mountainous land.

Life turned on the growing of hardy grain on the terraced slopes and the grazing of flocks on the mountainsides, and wealth was reckoned in land, in animals, and in the strength of the village and its towers. Living on the marches between the Chinese and the Tibetan worlds, the Qiang traded with both, and their valleys lay on old routes between the Sichuan basin and the high plateau.

Governed by custom, by elders, and by the priests who kept the sacred lore, and ruled from afar by the empire through local chiefs, the Qiang lived as settled highlanders of stone villages and watchtowers. An ancient people on a frontier of empires, they kept their language, their religion of the heavens and the white stone, and their mountain building through the long centuries of the marches.

The Village, the Clan, and the Bonds of the Qiang

Qiang society rests on the village and the clan, the ties of descent that bind families across the steep valleys. Descent is reckoned through the father’s line, and members of a clan share a common ancestor, honour the same forebears, and owe one another the duties of kin, while marriage joins families across the clans of a village or a district.

The village, a cluster of stone houses climbing a mountainside with its watchtowers rising among them, is the largest everyday unit of Qiang life, guided by respected elders and by the shibi, the priests who keep the sacred lore. The Qiang built no wide state and knew no king, and authority within the village rested on age, on descent, and on the command of custom and ritual rather than on inherited throne.

Marriage was arranged with care and marked by the exchange of gifts and by feasting, and the ties of marriage bound the households and clans of a district together. The extended family often lived together in the tall stone house, its several storeys sheltering the animals below, the family in the middle, and the stores and the shrine above, so that the house itself gathered the generations under one roof.

Women held an honoured place, working beside the men in the fields and the pastures and, above all, as the keepers of the famous Qiang embroidery, whose bright cross-stitched patterns adorn the dress, the aprons, and the shoes of the people. A woman’s skill with the needle was a measure of her worth, and the embroidery of a girl’s dress and of the goods for her marriage was a labour of care and pride.

The White Stone, the Heavens, and the Shibi

The religion of the Qiang is an ancient worship of the heavens, the mountains, and the spirits of the natural world, centred on the reverence of a supreme sky god and of a host of gods of the mountain, the fire, the field, and the home. It is among the oldest surviving nature religions of China, a faith of the high valleys little touched by the great organised religions of the plains.

The most striking symbol of this faith is the white stone, a piece of white quartz or crystal set upon the flat roof of the house, upon the walls, and at the sacred groves, revered as the dwelling or the token of the gods, above all of the god of heaven. The white stone, gleaming on the rooftops of the stone villages, is the visible sign of the Qiang religion and a mark of the people wherever they dwell.

At the heart of the faith stands the shibi, the priest, a man versed in the vast body of sacred chants, myths, and rituals carried entirely in memory, for the Qiang have no writing. The shibi leads the great ceremonies, heals the sick, buries the dead, and chariots the people’s history and lore in his chants, and he holds a place of the highest respect as the keeper of the ancestral wisdom.

Around this old faith the Qiang honour their ancestors and the gods of the sacred groves, where offerings are made and the great rites performed, and they took in over the centuries something of the Taoism and the Tibetan Buddhism of the peoples around them. Yet the worship of the heavens, the white stone, and the chants of the shibi remain the heart of the Qiang faith, one of the most ancient in the land.

A temple of Qiang folk religion at Qiangshan, Mao

The Tower, the Embroidery, and the Ways of the Qiang

The most famous of Qiang traditions is the building of the watchtower, the tall stone structure that rises among the houses of the village. Built of fitted stone without mortar, square or many-sided, and climbing many storeys toward the sky, these towers guarded the village and stored its goods, and their raising, without plan or nail, was a feat of skill handed down among the master builders of the people.

Qiang embroidery is the other great tradition, an art of the women famous for its bright cross-stitched patterns. Working in coloured thread on cloth, they cover the collars, cuffs, aprons, and shoes of the dress with flowers, birds, and figures in vivid design, and the embroidered dress, above all of the women, marks the great occasions and is a pride of the household and a measure of a woman’s skill.

The old religion, with its white stone, its sky god, and its chanting shibi, runs as a tradition through the whole of Qiang life, binding the turning points of the year and of life to the gods of the mountain and the heavens. The sacred groves, the offerings, and the great rites led by the priest are the deepest expression of the people’s identity.

Around these run the songs and dances of the Qiang, above all the linked-arm dance in which the people circle together, and the drinking of the barley wine sipped through a reed from a common jar, a mark of hospitality and festivity. Through the tower, the embroidery, the white stone, and the dance, the Qiang mark the passages of life and the turning of the year in ways carried down from their ancient forebears.

The Stone Builders, the Embroiderers, and the Masons

The master craft of the Qiang is building in stone, and it is in their houses and towers that their genius shows most plainly. Without mortar, plan, or nail, the Qiang masons raise walls of fitted rock that stand firm for centuries, and their tall watchtowers, climbing many storeys, are marvels of skill that have withstood the ages and the earthquakes of the mountains. The knowledge of this building was carried in the memory of the master masons.

The women of the Qiang are famous embroiderers, and their bright cross-stitch is among the treasures of Chinese folk art. Working in coloured thread on cloth, they cover the dress with flowers, birds, and figured patterns in vivid design, above all the collars, cuffs, aprons, and shoes, and the finest work, made for a girl’s dress or her marriage, was treasured and handed down.

Beyond stone and thread the Qiang practise the crafts of a highland people. They work leather and wool from their flocks, weave and felt cloth, plait bamboo and reed into baskets and mats, and carve the tools of daily life, and they forge iron for the implements of the field. The flat-roofed stone house, with its shrine and its white stone, was itself the work of the family and the mason.

The distilling of barley and other grain into the wine sipped through a reed, and the preparing of the produce of the field and the flock, rounded out the crafts of the Qiang. Yet it is for their building in stone above all, the enduring houses and the tall watchtowers, and for the bright embroidery of the women, that the crafts of this ancient mountain people are known and admired.

Barley, Buckwheat, and the Table of the Highlands

The food of the Qiang is the food of a highland people, built on the hardy grains that grow in the high cold valleys of their home. Barley, buckwheat, maize, and potatoes are the staples, ground into meal and cooked as porridge, cakes, or flatbread, and to them are added the beans and vegetables of the mountain gardens and the wild plants gathered from the slopes.

Meat holds a larger place at the Qiang table than at that of many farming peoples, for the Qiang keep flocks and herds on the mountainsides, and pork, mutton, and beef are eaten at festivals and welcome. A well-loved food is the smoked and preserved pork, hung in the smoke of the hearth and kept through the long winter, brought out to honour a guest or mark a feast.

The barley and other grain are brewed into the wine for which the Qiang are known, the zajiu, drunk in a distinctive way, sipped through a slender reed from a common jar into which water is poured as the drinking goes on. This shared jar of wine, passed among the company, is a mark of Qiang hospitality and festivity, drawing the drinkers together in the warmth of the gathering.

The gathering and preserving of the mountain’s gifts, the smoking of meat, the drying of grain and vegetables, and the pickling of foods helped the Qiang through the long cold winters of the high valleys. From the barley and buckwheat of the terraces to the smoked pork and the shared jar of reed-sipped wine, the food of the Qiang is rooted in the flocks and fields of their ancient highland home.

The Qiang New Year, the Mountain Rites, and the Feasts

The greatest festival of the Qiang is their own new year, held in the autumn when the harvest is gathered, a great thanksgiving to the god of heaven and the gods of the mountains. Over several days the community gathers at the sacred grove, where the shibi leads the offerings and the chants, and then in the village for feasting, for the linked-arm dance, and for the sharing of the reed-sipped wine.

This Qiang new year, a festival of thanksgiving and of the honouring of the heavens, is the high point of the people’s year and the fullest expression of their ancient religion. The offering of animals at the sacred grove, the long chants of the shibi telling the history and the myths of the people, and the dancing and feasting that follow bind the community to its gods and its ancestors.

Other festivals mark the turning of the year and the honouring of the gods, above all a great festival of the mountain gods kept in some districts, and the rites of planting and harvest, each with its offerings and ceremonies. A festival honouring the goddess or the women of the people is also kept, and these occasions gather the villages for offering, feasting, and dance.

The passages of life, birth, marriage, and death, gather the kin for ceremony, led by the shibi with the proper chants and rites. At all these occasions the bright embroidered dress, the linked-arm dance, the long chants of the priest, and the shared jar of wine bring colour and sound, so that the Qiang meet the great moments of the year and of life alike with feast, with song, and with the honouring of the heavens.

From the Oracle Bones to the People of Modern China

The name Qiang reaches back to the very dawn of Chinese history, carved on the oracle bones of the Shang dynasty more than three thousand years ago, where it names the herding peoples of the western borderlands. From this ancient and shifting world of the western marches sprang, over the long ages, a whole family of Tibeto-Burman peoples, and the modern Qiang are held to be among the closest heirs of that old stock.

Through the long centuries the peoples called Qiang warred and traded with the Chinese dynasties, at times pressing into the empire and at times pushed back, and many were absorbed into the Chinese or the Tibetan worlds around them. The modern Qiang of the upper Min are the remnant who kept the name and a distinct identity, settled in their mountain valleys on the frontier between the two great worlds.

Ruled from afar by the empire through local chiefs, the Qiang lived on the marches of Sichuan, their valleys lying on old routes between the basin and the plateau, touched by Chinese, Tibetan, and other influences yet keeping their own tongue, religion, and building. Their stone villages and watchtowers stood through wars, migrations, and the turning of dynasties.

After the founding of the People’s Republic the Qiang were recognised as one of the official nationalities of China, sharing an autonomous prefecture with the Tibetans. In 2008 a great earthquake struck the heart of their homeland around Wenchuan and Mao, killing many and destroying villages and towers, a heavy blow from which the Qiang, with much effort, have worked to rebuild their homes and their heritage.

The Qiang in Modern China

Today the Qiang number some three hundred thousand, living still chiefly in the mountains of northwestern Sichuan, above all in the counties of Mao, Wenchuan, and Li, in the autonomous prefecture they share with the Tibetans. A small and ancient people, they remain rooted in the high valleys of the upper Min, keeping their stone villages, their watchtowers, and their old religion of the white stone.

The great earthquake of 2008 struck the heart of the Qiang homeland with terrible force, killing many, toppling villages, and damaging the ancient watchtowers, and it fell heavily on so small a people. In the years since, much labour has gone into rebuilding the homes, the towers, and the villages, and into safeguarding the Qiang heritage, which the disaster brought into sharp and anxious focus.

Modern life has come to the Qiang valleys in the shape of roads, schools, and a growing trade in tourism, for the stone villages, the towers, and the embroidery draw visitors to the mountains. Yet the same forces, and the pull of the cities, draw the young away, and the deeply divided Qiang dialects and the old religion face the pressure of a fast-changing world and a wider China.

Through disaster and change the Qiang carry their heritage with pride. The watchtowers and the stone houses, the white stone and the chanting shibi, the bright cross-stitch embroidery, the linked-arm dance, and the reed-sipped wine endure as marks of who they are. An ancient people bearing the oldest of names, the Qiang hold their mountain heritage alive in modern China.