Tashkent, Uzbekistan—Magical is a word that I do not use lightly, but it is what comes to mind when traveling through the ancient cities of the Silk Road.
In Samarkand, for instance, the majestic Registan, with its intricately designed, blue-domed madrassas and minarets, stands as a testament to the resplendent glories of various empires, emirates, caliphates, and khanates—especially that of Timur (Tamerlane) and grandson Ulugh Beg who made it their capital.
Bukhara—a former capital of various empires and, like Samarkand, a center of trade, scholarship, and region—is majestic in its own right. Legend has it that Genghis Khan was so impressed with the Kalyan Minaret that he spared it from destruction; today the minaret remains the city’s icon and the centerpiece of the spectacular Po-i-Kalyan mosque complex.
Even Tashkent—though lacking the architectural marvels of Samarkand and Bukhara—is not without its own history that spans millennia; its built heritage include the splendid 16th-century Barakhan Madrasah, stately parks, and elaborately designed subways that remind us of its place as the fourth-largest city in the former Soviet Union.
Beyond their past glory and visual beauty, these cities serve as a visceral reminder of how our cultural and historical imagination miss out on many important parts of the world. The intellectual achievements of these Silk Road cities rival those of Alexandria and Athens, but scholars like Ibn Sina and al-Biruni barely register in our textbooks the way Aristotle and Isaac Newton do. Natives of what is now Uzbekistan, their identities are generalized as “Islamic,” “Arabic,” or “Persian” even as the Islamic world at the time was much larger than Western Europe.
The Silk Road—itself an Orientalist, 19th-century European construct—draws tourists from all over the world (I have met some Filipinos along the way), but many will travel farther, and pay more, for trips to London and Paris.
Religion and politics have intervened over the centuries, and today, colonialism continues to dictate our cultural maps, which is why we are more familiar with Western Europe and North America than the other regions with whom we share the colonial experience—from Latin America, Africa, Western Asia—as well as those never colonized by the West. What intellectual, economic, religious, and cultural exchanges could have taken place between Southeast and Central Asia over the centuries?
Of course, to view the Silk Road countries (often nicknamed “the Stans”) solely in terms of the past is to miss out on their living cultures and enduring economic and geopolitical significance. This is underlined by the very existence of organizations like the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, whose members—China, India, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Pakistan, Russia, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and newcomer Iran—are meeting this very week in Samarkand, as well as initiatives like China’s “Silk Road Economic Belt.”
Unlike the mostly pro-Ukraine Georgians, the Uzbeks I meet are divided about Putin’s war, and about Russia in general (still a major political, economic, cultural influence for the country), with the older ones expressing nostalgia for the Soviet Union. There seems to be more consensus around the sentiment that the current president, Shavkat Mirziyoyev, is doing important reforms in various realms—from human rights to infrastructure; but the people prefer to talk about lighter topics, like the best restaurant for plov, their country’s recent successes in chess, as well as various attractions in their country beyond Bukhara, Khiva, and Samarkand.
Alas, I have no time to take up their recommendations, but I have seen enough to say that there’s so much to explore and appreciate in this part of the world apart from the Silk Road. As a mountaineer, for instance, I enjoyed climbing the 3,309-meter Greater Chimgan near the border with Kazakhstan; I hope to go back someday to climb a big mountain in Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan. Thankfully, Filipinos are either visa-free or can easily get e-visas for most of the “Stans”; I think we should be prioritizing countries that have friendly visa polices (a topic for a future column).
Interestingly, Uzbekistan officials have in recent years spoken of building stronger ties with the Philippines in a range of sectors including agriculture, trade, and tourism. These exchanges should be encouraged, not just as a sensible component of an “independent foreign policy,” but as part of our individual and collective efforts to decolonize the way we engage with, and see, the world.
Just as the silk roads of old opened up new ways of thinking and new forms of interconnectedness, so can the new routes that we may yet forge.
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glasco@inquirer.com.ph