This political dimension of religion has important bearings on the issue of blood tanistry struggles, the case between Li Shimin and Crown Prince Jian-cheng in particular. Failure to recognize this political and, as we shall see, ethnic aspect led Arthur Wright84 to question the insightful observation by Tang Yongtong85 that, in this struggle, the Buddhists were on the side of the elder brother (Wright's erroneous notion has been all but refuted, albeit implicitly, by Stanley Weinstein).86
As a “foreign” religion, the Buddhism establishment in China had a vested interest in the imperial house's acknowledgment of its non-Hàn origin and heritage. The church must have actively countered any opposite move. As described before, the famous monk Falin openly slandered the imperial family's ethnic origin claiming its descent from the Tuoba. Proceeding from my examination of the role of sinicization in succession struggles, it was very natural that the Buddhist church was behind the crown prince, as Tang Yongtong has observed. Meanwhile the Taoists rallied to the challenger Li Shimin, as shown by the cases of two Taoist priests (Jiu Tang shu 191.5089, 192.5125; Xin Tang shu 204.5804–5.). It is telling that when Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui, the two most trusted followers of Li Shimin, sneaked back to the capital to participate in the Xuanwu Gate coup d'état, they reportedly disguised themselves as Taoists (ZZTJ 191.6009). Emperor Taizong's edict of 637 elevating Taoism to a higher status than Buddhism87 was a most natural reward for this support. Similarly, this could also explain Empress Wu Zetian's patronage of the “foreign” Buddhism in her bid to succeed her husband and become an unprecedented woman emperor against every Hàn Chinese custom and principle.
A Fox Dies with Its Head Pointing to Home Hill
In addition to the incessant succession struggles of the early Tang examined earlier, I add a brief section here on another angle from which to examine the ethnic identity of the Tang royal house.88
The Chinese idiom used as the title of this section conveys the general phenomenon that one goes back to one's roots in one's last days. It can also be used to indicate the belief that one's truest feelings are revealed while in death throes. The latter can apply to both people and institutions.
Another heavily studied subject regarding the early Tang emperors hardly touched upon so far in this chapter is the imperial title tiankehan, or heavenly Qaghan,89 first assumed by Emperor Taizong. This imperial title was primarily for symbolizing and embodying a Tang emperor's sovereignty over the tribal groups on the Steppe. It is astonishingly similar to a Qing emperor's epithet of great khan used with the latter's Manchu, Mongol, and other ethnic subjects.
Most historians have represented Emperor Taizong's adoption of the title heavenly Qaghan as a cynical political ploy to neutralize the threat of Türk power in the late 620s. But as Denis Twitchett astutely remarked, it was the emperor's “Turkic identity” that was essential in his accepting this new title. Emperor's Taizong's true feelings in this regard are revealed by what transpired near the end of his life. After his return from the abortive campaign against Koguryo in the autumn of 645, Emperor Taizong was chronically and seriously ill, so much so that when he arrived back in the Tang capital in the third month of 646 he withdrew from his court duties and appointed his heir apparent (future emperor Gaozong) as acting regent for long periods and avoided making decisions himself. Yet he clearly felt that maintaining his standing among the Steppe peoples was of such overriding importance that in the sixth month of 646 he decided to make an exhausting journey to the frontier prefect of Lingzhou for a meeting with the leadership of the Steppe peoples to enable them to reassert their allegiance and proclaim him once more as their heavenly Qaghan, again leaving the heir apparent to act as regent at the capital. The journey took more than two months, and his exertions led to a recurrence and aggravation of his illness, from which he never fully recovered (ZZTJ 198–99). This clearly and unequivocally shows the importance he attached to his Turkic connections.
I would add that this “Turkic identity” was further reflected in Emperor Taizong's death. Several authors have observed that certain features of his mausoleum, particularly the large number of stone statues representing real-life personalities, were imitative of the ancient Türk burial custom.90 I contend that, rather than mere imitation, it in fact reflected the Tang imperial house's Steppe background and identity. For a son of heaven well known for his obsession with posterity and historical legacy in the Sinitic world, Emperor Taizong's mausoleum is a manifestation of his other cultural identity.
The Tang house's respect for non-Hàn burial customs both within and beyond the Chinese heartland was documented. For example, Emperor Taizong once sharply condemned the Eastern Türks' adoption of the (Hàn) tomb burials in violation of their ancestral traditions (Cefu yuangui 125.1501),91 and Emperor Xuanzong issued an edict allowing a surrendered Türk official “to be buried according to the native [Turkic] customs” (Cefu yuangui 974.11446).
Nearly three centuries later, when the Tang dynasty was in its death throes, there was another fascinating case of atavistic reflection of its ethnic roots. In the year 904, shortly before his murder by the founding monarch of the succeeding Liang dynasty (907–23), the Tang emperor Zhaozong (reign 888–904) was forced into a miserable banishment from the Tang capital with a small entourage, a virtual prisoner of the Liang soldiers. In constant fear of regicide and anticipating the final end of the once glorious dynasty, Emperor Zhaozong cited a folk poem lamenting his fate (ZZTJ 264.8627), likening himself to a “freezing bird at the peak of Mount Hegan.” Interestingly, from hundreds of possible metaphors in volumes of Chinese literature for describing a despondent monarch in his last days, Emperor Zhaozong picked up a folklore icon that originated from the area where Mount Hegan was well known. The final note to this sad episode is that Hegan was an old tribal name found among the Tuoba core followers, and the namesake mountain was actually located in the immediate area of the old Tuoba capital Pingcheng (near present-day Datong in the province of Shanxi), which has had heavy concentrations of ethnic descendants of the Northern nomads ever since the early Tuoba period.92
Conclusion
By examining the incessant succession struggles and other characteristics of the period, I demonstrate that the early Tang, far from being a “native” dynasty, was in fact a regime with heavy Turco-Xianbei traits, and hence may be more aptly termed a Särbo-Chinese regime. But for the cause of political legitimacy, the imperial family made enormous efforts to present itself as a bona fide Hàn house and to make sure that no compromising evidence was left in any records.
Two historical factors have contributed to the Tang's near success in maintaining this image throughout history: (a) its status as the all-dominating polity in the vast East-Central Asian continent and the sole custodian of historiography, with hardly any independent cultural entity in existence to provide an alternative view or perspective, and (b) the passing of the time.
Besides being in exclusive control of traditional historiography, the Confucian scholar-officials all but monopolized every genre of writing in classical East Asia.93 This is reflected in the fact that, in all three major Altaic languages, the early words for “writing” and “books” are generally considered as cognates of the Chinese character bi, “pen, writing brush.”94 The long-speculated existence of a Xianbei script95 must be largely abandoned after the discovery of the Xianbei cavern and other equally rich collections of archaeological findings, especially tomb inscriptions and other artifacts of this period. Without an effective script, let alone a body of existing literature, nomadic oral tradition, albeit rich, was no rival to the tomes of Chinese literature (or “cultural repertoire” in Jack Goody and Ian Watt's words)96 accumulated since the archaic age.
Conversely, what may have been even more critical were the deliberate efforts by the Northern autocratic families who dominated the political stage in China for centuries. For the specific Sui objective of conquering the south where “legitimate” Chinese dynasties had been maintained, and for the general need for