The recent data on ancient DNA from Iberia published by Olalde et al. (2019) was interesting for many different reasons, but I still have the impression that the authors – and consequently many readers – focused on not-so-relevant information about more recent population movements, or even highlighted the least interesting details related to historical events.
This post is thus a summary of its findings with the help of natural neighbour interpolation maps of the reported Germany_Beaker and France_Beaker ancestry for individual samples. Even though maps are not necessary, visualizing geographically the available data facilitates a direct comprehension of the most relevant information. What I considered key points of the paper are highlighted in bold, and enumerated.
NOTE. To get “more natural” maps, extrapolation for the whole Iberian Peninsula is obtained by interpolation through the use of external data from the British Isles, Central Europe, and Africa. This is obviously not ideal, but – lacking data from the corners of the Iberian Peninsula – this method gives a homogeneous look to all maps. Only data in direct line between labelled samples in each map is truly interpolated for the Iberian Peninsula, while the rest would work e.g. for a wider (and more simplistic) map of European Bronze Age ancestry components.
The Proto-Beaker package may or may not have expanded into Central Europe with typical Iberia_Chalcolithic ancestry. A priori, it seems a rather cultural diffusion of traits stemming from west Iberia roughly ca. 2800 BC.
The situation during the Chalcolithic is only relevant for the Indo-European question insofar as it shows a homogeneous Iberia_Chalcolithic-like ancestry with typical Y-chromosome (and mtDNA) haplogroups of the Iberian Neolithic dominating over the whole Peninsula until about 2500 BC. This might represent an original Basque-Iberian community.
(1) East Bell Beakers brought hg. R1b-L23 and Yamnaya ancestry to Iberia, ergo the Bell Beaker phenomenon was not a (mere) local development in Iberia, but involved the expansion of peoples tracing their ancestry to the Yamnaya culture who eventually replaced a great part of the local population.
(2) Classical Bell Beakers have their closest source population in Germany Beakers, and they reject an origin close to Rhine Beakers (i.e. Beakers from the British Isles, the Netherlands, or northern France), ergo the Single Grave culture was not the origin of the Bell Beaker culture, either (see here).
Early Bronze Age
Interestingly, the European Early Bronze Age in Iberia is still a period of adjustments before reaching the final equilibrium. Unlike the situation in the British Isles, where Bell Beakers brought about a swift population replacement, Iberia shows – like the Nordic Late Neolithic period – centuries of genomic balancing between Indo-European- and non-Indo-European-speaking peoples, as could be suggested by hydrotoponymic research alone.
This balancing is seen in terms of Germany_Beaker vs. Iberia_Chalcolithic ancestry, but also in terms of Y-chromosome haplogroups, with the most interesting late developments happening in southern Iberia, around the territory where El Argar eventually emerged in radical opposition to the Bell Beaker culture.
We obtained lower proportions of ancestry related to Germany_Beaker on the X-chromosome than on the autosomes (Table S14), although the Z-score for the differences between the estimates is 2.64, likely due to the large standard error associated to the mixture proportions in the X-chromosome.
Regarding the PCA, Iberia Bronze Age samples occupy an intermediate cluster between Iberia Chalcolithic and Bell Beakers of steppe ancestry, with Yamnaya-rich samples from the north (Asturias, Burgos) representing the likely source Old European population whose languages survived well into the Roman Iron Age:
Middle Bronze Age
During the Middle Bronze Age, the equilibrium reached earlier is reversed, with a (likely non-Indo-European-speaking) Argaric sphere of influence expanding to the west and north featuring Iberia Chalcolithic and lesser amount of Germany_Beaker ancestry, present now in the whole Peninsula, although in varying degrees.
All Iberian groups were probably already under a bottleneck of R1b-DF27 lineages, although it is likely that specific subclades differed among regions:
Late Bronze Age
The Late Bronze Age represents the arrival of the Urnfield culture, which probably expanded with Celtic-speaking peoples. A Late Bronze Age transect before their genetic impact still shows a prevalent Germany_Beaker-like Steppe ancestry, probably peaking in north/west Iberia:
(5) Galaico-Lusitanians were descendants of Iberian Beakers of Germany_Beaker ancestry and hg. R1b-M269. Autosomal data of samples I7688 and I7687, of the Final Bronze (end of the reported 1200-700 BC period for the samples), from Gruta do Medronhal (Arrifana, Coimbra, Portugal) confirms this.
In the 1940s, human bones, metallic artifacts (n=37) and non-human bones were discovered in the natural cave of Medronhal (Arrifana, Coimbra). All these findings are currently housed in the Department of Life Sciences of the University of Coimbra and are analyzed by a multidisciplinary team. The artifacts suggest a date at the beginning of the 1st millennium BC, which is confirmed by radiocarbon date of a human fibula: 890–780 cal BCE (2650±40 BP, Beta–223996). This natural cave has several rooms and corridors with two entrances. No information is available about the context of the human remains. Nowadays these remains are housed mixed and correspond to a minimum number of 11 individuals, 5 adults and 6 non-adults.
NOTE. To understand how the region around Coimbra was (Proto-)Lusitanian – and not just Old European in general – until the expansion of the Turduli Oppidani, see any recent paper on Bronze Age expansion of warrior stelae, hydrotoponymy, anthroponymy, or theonymy (see e.g. about Spear-vocabulary).
In a complex period of multiple population movements and language replacements, the temporal transect in Olalde et al. (2019) offers nevertheless relevant clues for the Pre-Roman Iron Age:
(6) The expansion of Celtic languages was associated with the spread of France_Beaker-like ancestry, most likely already with the LBA Urnfield culture, since a Tartessian and a Pre-Iberian samples (both dated ca. 700-500 BC) already show this admixture, in regions which some centuries earlier did not show it. Similarly, a BA sample from Álava ca. 910–840 BC doesn’t show it, and later Celtiberian samples from the same area (ca. 4th c. BC and later) show it, depicting a likely north-east to west/south-west routes of expansion of Celts.
(7) The distribution of Germany_Beaker ancestry peaked, by the Iron Age, among Old Europeans from west Iberia, including Galaico-Lusitanians and probably also Astures and Cantabri, in line with what was expected before genetic research:
A probably more precise picture of the Final Bronze – Early Iron Age transition is obtained by including the Final Bronze samples I2469 from El Sotillo, Álava (ca. 910-875 BC) as Celtic ancestry buffer to the west, and the sample I3315 from Menorca (ca. 904-861 BC), lacking more recent ones from intermediate regions:
In terms of Y-DNA and mtDNA haplogroups, the situation is difficult to evaluate without more samples and more reported subclades:
In the PCA, Proto-Lusitanian samples occupy an intermediate cluster between Iberian Bronze Age and Bronze Age North (see above), including the Final Bronze sample from Álava, while Celtic-speaking peoples (including Pre-Iberians and Iberians of Celtic descent from north-east Iberia) show a similar position – albeit evidently unrelated – due to their more recent admixture between Iberian Bronze Age and Urnfield/Hallstatt from Central Europe:
(8) Iberian-speaking peoples in north-east Iberia represent a recent expansion of the language from the south, possibly accompanied by an increase in Iberia_Chalcolithic/Germany_Beaker admixture from east/south-east Iberia.
(9) Modern Basques represent a recent isolation + Y-DNA bottlenecks after the Roman Iron Age population movements, probably from Aquitanians migrating south of the Pyrenees, admixing with local peoples, and later becoming isolated during the Early Middle Ages and thereafter:
[Modern Basques] overlap genetically with Iron Age populations showing substantial levels of Steppe ancestry.
Assuming that France_Beaker ancestry is associated with the Urnfield culture (spreading with Celtic-speaking peoples), Vasconic speakers were possibly represented by some population – most likely from France – whose ancestry is close to Rhine Beakers (see here).
Alternatively, a Vasconic language could have survived in some France/Iberia_Chalcolithic-like population that got isolated north of the Pyrenees close to the Atlantic Façade during the Bronze Age, and who later admixed with Celtic-speaking peoples south of the Pyrenees, such as the Vascones, to the point where their true ancestry got diluted.
In any case, the clear Celtic Steppe-like admixture of modern Basques supports for the time being their recent arrival to Aquitaine before the proto-historical period, which is in line with hydrotoponymic research.
The most interesting aspects to discuss after the publication of Olalde et al. (2019) would have been thus the nature of controversial Palaeohispanic peoples for which there is not much linguistic data, such as:
the Astures and the Cantabri, usually considered Pre-Celtic Indo-European (see here);
the Vaccaei, usually considered Celtic;
the Vettones, traditionally viewed as sharing the same language as Lusitanians due to their apparent shared hydrotoponymic, anthroponymic, and/or theonymic layers, but today mostly viewed as having undergone Celticization and helped the westward expansion of Celtic languages (and archaeologically clearly divided from Old European hostile neighbours to the west by their characteristic verracos);
the Pellendones or the Carpetani, who were once considered Pre-Celtic Indo-Europeans, too;
the nature of Tartessian as Indo-European, or maybe even as “Celtic”, as defended by Koch;
or the potential remote connection of Basque and Iberian languages in a common trunk featuring Iberian/France_Chalcolithic ancestry (also including Palaeo-Sardo).
Despite these interesting questions still open for discussion, the paper remarked something already known for a long time: that modern Basques had steppe ancestry and Y-DNA proper of the Yamnaya 5,000 years ago, and that Bell Beakers had brought this steppe ancestry and R1b-P312 lineages to Iberia. This common Basque-centric interpretation of Iberian prehistory is the consequence of a 19th-century tradition of obsessively imagining Vasconic-speaking peoples in their medieval territories extrapolated to Cro-Magnons and Atapuerca (no, really), inhabiting undisturbed for millennia a large territory encompassing the whole Iberia and France, “reduced” or “broken” only with the arrival of Celts just before the Roman conquests. A recursive idea of “linguistic autochthony” and “genetic purity” of the peoples of Iberia that has never had any scientific basis.
Similarly, this paper offered the Nth proof already in population genomics that traditional nativist claims for the origin of the Bell Beaker folk in Western Europe were wrong, both southern (nativist Iberian origin) and northern European (nativist Lower Rhine origin). Both options could be easily rejected with phylogeography since 2015, they were then rejected in Olalde et al. and Mathieson et al (2017), then again with the update of many samples in Olalde et al. (2018) and Mathieson et al (2018), and it has most clearly been rejected recently with data from Wang et al. (2018) and its Yamnaya Hungary samples. Findings from Olalde et al. (2019) are just another nail to coffins that should have been well buried by now.
Even David Anthony didn’t have any doubt in his latest model (2017) about the Carpathian Basin origin of North-West Indo-Europeans (see here), and his latest update to the Proto-Indo-European homeland question (2019) shows that he is convinced now about R1b bottlenecks and proper Pre-Yamnaya ancestry stemming from a time well before the Bell Beaker expansion. This won’t be the last setback to supporters of zombie theories: like the hypotheses of an Anatolian, Armenian, or OIT origin of the PIE homeland, other mythical ideas are so entrenched in nationalist and/or nativist tradition that many supporters will no doubt prefer them to die hard, under the most numerous and shameful rejections of endlessly remade reactionary models.
In it, Fischer and colleagues update their previous data for the Y-DNA of Gauls from the Urville-Nacqueville necropolis, Normandy (ca. 300-100 BC), with 8 samples of hg. R, at least 5 of them R1b. They also report new data from the Gallic cemetery at Gurgy ‘Les Noisats’, Southern Paris Basin (ca. 120-80 BC), with 19 samples of hg. R, at least 13 of them R1b.
In both cases, it is likely that both communities belonged (each) to the same paternal lineages, hence the patrilocal residence rules and patrilineality described for Gallic groups, also supported by the different maternal gene pools.
The interesting data would be whether these individuals were of hg. R1b-L21, hence mainly local lineages later replaced or displaced to the west, or – a priori much more likely – of some R1b-U152 and/or R1b-DF27 subclades from Central Europe that became less and less prevalent as Celts expanded into more isolated regions south of the Pyrenees and into the British Isles. Such information is lacking in the paper, probably due to the poor coverage of the samples.
Three Britons from Hinxton, South Cambridgeshire (ca. 170 BC – AD 80) from Schiffels et al. (2016), two of them of local hg. R1b-S461.
Indirectly, data of Vikings by Margaryan et al. (2019) from the British Isles and beyond show hg. R1b associated with modern British-like ancestry, also linked to early “Picts”, hence likely associated with Britons even after the Anglo-Saxon settlement. Supporting both (1) my recent prediction of hg. R1b-M167 expanding with Celts and (2) the reason for its presence among modern Scandinavians, is the finding of the first ancient sample of this subclade (VK166) among the Vikings of St John’s College Oxford, associated with the ‘St Brice’s Day Massacre’ (see Margaryan et al. 2019 supplementary materials).
The R1b-M167 sample shows 23.5% British-like ancestry, hence autosomally closer to other local samples (and related to the likely Picts from Orkney) than to some of his deceased partners at the site. Other samples with sizeable British-like ancestry include VK177 (32.6%, hg. R1b-U152), VK173 (33.3%, hg. I2a1b1a), or VK150 (25.6%, hg. I2a1b1a), while typical Germanic subclades like I1 or R1b-U106 – which may be associated with Anglo-Saxons, too – tend to show less.
I remember some commenter asking recently what would happen to the theory of Proto-Indo-European-speaking R1b-rich Yamnaya culture if Celts expanded with hg. R1a, because there were only one hg. R1b and one (possibly) G2a from Hallstatt. As it turns out, they were mostly R1b. However, the increasingly frequent obsession of searching for specific haplogroups and ancestry during the Iron Age and the Middle Ages is weird, even as a desperate attempt, because:
it is evident that the more recent the ancient DNA samples are, the more they are going to resemble modern populations of the same area, so ancient DNA would become essentially useless;
cultures from the early Iron Age onward (and even earlier) were based on increasingly complex sociopolitical systems everywhere, which is reflected in haplogroup and ancestry variability, e.g. among Balts, East Germanic peoples, Slavs (of hg. E1b-V13, I2a-L621), or Tocharians.
In fact, even the finding of hg. R1b among Celts of central and western Europe during the Iron Age is rather unenlightening, because more specific subclades and information on ancestry changes are needed to reach any meaningful conclusion as to migration vs. acculturation waves of expanding Celtic languages, which spread into areas that were mostly Indo-European-speaking since the Bell Beaker expansion.
Although the Devil’s Cave ancestry is generally the predominant East Asian lineage in North Asia and adjacent areas, there is an intriguing discrepancy between the eastern [Korean, Japanese, Tungusic (except northernmost Oroqen), and Mongolic (except westernmost Kalmyk) speakers] and the western part [West Xiōngnú (~2,150 BP), Tiānshān Hun (~1,500 BP), Turkic-speaking Karakhanid (~1,000 BP) and Tuva, and Kalmyk]. Whereas the East Asian ancestry of populations in the western part has entirely belonged to the Devil’s Cave lineage till now, populations in the eastern part have received the genomic influence from an Amis-related lineage (17.4–52.1%) posterior to the presence of the Devil’s Cave population roughly in the same region (~7,600 BP)12. Analogically, archaeological record has documented the transmission of wet-rice cultivation from coastal China (Shāndōng and/or Liáoníng Peninsula) to Northeast Asia, notably the Korean Peninsula (Mumun pottery period, since ~3,500 BP) and the Japanese archipelago (Yayoi period, since ~2,900 BP)2. Especially for Japanese, the Austronesian-related linguistic influence in Japanese may indicate a potential contact between the Proto-Japonic speakers and population(s) affiliating to the coastal lineage. Thus, our results imply that a southern-East-Asian-related lineage could be arguably associated with the dispersal of wet-rice agriculture in Northeast Asia at least to some extent.
In this case, the study doesn’t compare Steppe_MLBA, though, so the findings of Afanasievo ancestry have to be taken with a pinch of salt. They are, however, compared to Namazga, so “Steppe ancestry” is there. Taking into account the limited amount of Yamnaya-like ancestry that could have reached the Tian Shan area with the Srubna-Andronovo horizon in the Iron Age (see here), and the amount of Yamnaya-like ancestry that appears in some of these populations, it seems unlikely that this amount of “Steppe ancestry” would emerge as based only on Steppe_MLBA, hence the most likely contacts of Turkic peoples with populations of both Afanasievo (first) and Corded Ware-derived ancestry (later) to the west of Lake Baikal.
(1) The simplification of ancestral components into A vs. B vs. C… (when many were already mixed), and (2) the simplistic selection of one OR the other in the preferred models (such as those published for Yamnaya or Corded Ware), both common strategies in population genomics pose evident problems when assessing the actual gene flow from some populations into others.
Also, it seems that when the “Steppe”-like contribution is small, both Yamnaya and Corded Ware ancestry will be good fits in admixed populations of Central Asia, due to the presence of peoples of EHG-like (viz. West Siberia HG) and/or CHG-like (viz. Namazga) ancestry in the area. Unless and until these problems are addressed, there is little that can be confidently said about the history of Yamnaya vs. Corded Ware admixture among Asian peoples.
Maps, maps, and more maps
As you have probably noticed if you follow this blog regularly, I have been experimenting with GIS software in the past month or so, trying to map haplogroups and ancestry components (see examples for Vikings, Corded Ware, and Yamnaya). My idea was to show the (pre)historical evolution of ancestry and haplogroups coupled with the atlas of prehistoric migrations, but I have to understand first what I can do with GIS statistical tools.
My latest exercise has been to map modern haplogroup distribution (now added to the main menu above) using data from the latest available reports. While there have been no great surprises – beyond the sometimes awful display of data by some papers – I think it is becoming clearer with each new publication how wrong it was for geneticists to target initially those populations considered “isolated” – hence subject to strong founder effects – to extrapolate language relationships. For example:
The mapping of R1b-M269, in particular basal subclades, corresponds nicely with the Indo-European expansions.
There is no clear relationship of R1b, not even R1b-DF27 (especially basal subclades), with Basques. There is no apparent relationship between the distribution of R1b-M269 and some mythical non-Indo-European “Old Europeans”, like Etruscans or Caucasian speakers, either.
Basal R1a-M417 shows an interesting distribution, as do maps of basal Z282 and Z93 subclades, despite the evident late bottlenecks and acculturation among Slavs.
The distribution of hg. N1a-VL29 (and other N1a-L392 subclades) is clearly dissociated from Uralic peoples, and their expansion in the whole Baltic Sea during the Iron Age doesn’t seem to be related to any specific linguistic expansion.
Even the most recent association in Post et al. (2019) with hg. N1a-Z1639 – due to the lack of relationship of Uralic with N1a-VL29 – seems like a stretch, seeing how it probably expanded from the Kola Peninsula and the East Urals, and neither the Lovozero Ware nor forest hunter-fishers of the Cis- and Trans-Urals regions were Uralic-speaking cultures.
All in all, modern haplogroup distribution might have been used to ascertain prehistoric language movements even in the 2000s. It was the obsession with (and the wrong assumptions about) the “purity” of certain populations – say, Basques or Finns – what caused many of the interpretation problems and circular reasoning we are still seeing today.
I have also tried Yleaf v.2 – which seems like an improvement over the infamous v.1 – to test some samples that hobbyists and/or geneticists have reported differently in the past. I have posted the results in this ancient DNA haplogroup page. It doesn’t mean that the inferences I obtain are the correct ones, but now you have yet another source to compare.
I0124, the Samara HG, is of hg. R1b-P297, but uncertain for both R1b-M73 and R1b-M269.
I0122, the Khvalynsk chieftain, is of hg. R1b-V1636.
I2181, the Smyadovo outlier of poor coverage, is possibly of hg. R, and could be of hg. R1b-M269, but could also be even non-P.
I6561 from Alexandria is probably of hg. R1a-M417, likely R1a-Z645, maybe R1a-Z93, but can’t be known beyond that, which is more in line with the TMRCA of R1a subclades and the radiocarbon date of the sample.
I2181, the Yamnaya individual (supposedly Pre-R1b-L51) at Lopatino II is R1b-M269, negative for R1b-L51. Nothing beyond that.
You can ask me to try mapping more data or to test the haplogroup of more samples, provided you give me a proper link to the relevant data, they are interesting for the subject of this blog…and I have the time to do it.
Interesting excerpts (emphasis mine, modified for clarity):
To understand the genetic structure and influence of the Viking expansion, we sequenced the genomes of 442 ancient humans from across Europe and Greenland ranging from the Bronze Age (c. 2400 BC) to the early Modern period (c. 1600 CE), with particular emphasis on the Viking Age. We find that the period preceding the Viking Age was accompanied by foreign gene flow into Scandinavia from the south and east: spreading from Denmark and eastern Sweden to the rest of Scandinavia. Despite the close linguistic similarities of modern Scandinavian languages, we observe genetic structure within Scandinavia, suggesting that regional population differences were already present 1,000 years ago.
Maps illustrating the following texts have been made based on data from this and other papers:
Maps showing ancestry include only data from this preprint (which also includes some samples from Sigtuna).
Maps showing haplogroups of ancient DNA samples based on their age include data from all published papers, but with slightly modified locations to avoid overcrowding (randomized distance approx. ± 0.1 long. and lat.).
We find that the transition from the BA to the IA is accompanied by a reduction in Neolithic farmer ancestry, with a corresponding increase in both Steppe-like ancestry and hunter-gatherer ancestry. While most groups show a slight recovery of farmer ancestry during the VA, there is considerable variation in ancestry across Scandinavia. In particular, we observe a wide range of ancestry compositions among individuals from Sweden, with some groups in southern Sweden showing some of the highest farmer ancestry proportions (40% or more in individuals from Malmö, Kärda or Öland).
Ancestry proportions in Norway and Denmark on the other hand appear more uniform. Finally we detect an influx of low levels of “eastern” ancestry starting in the early VA, mostly constrained among groups from eastern and central Sweden as well as some Norwegian groups. Testing of putative source groups for this “eastern” ancestry revealed differing patterns among the Viking Age target groups, with contributions of either East Asian- or Caucasus-related ancestry.
Overall, our findings suggest that the genetic makeup of VA Scandinavia derives from mixtures of three earlier sources: Mesolithic hunter-gatherers, Neolithic farmers, and Bronze Age pastoralists. Intriguingly, our results also indicate ongoing gene flow from the south and east into Iron Age Scandinavia. Thus, these observations are consistent with archaeological claims of wide-ranging demographic turmoil in the aftermath of the Roman Empire with consequences for the Scandinavian populations during the late Iron Age.
Genetic structure within Viking-Age Scandinavia
We find that VA Scandinavians on average cluster into three groups according to their geographic origin, shifted towards their respective present-day counterparts in Denmark, Sweden and Norway. Closer inspection of the distributions for the different groups reveals additional complexity in their genetic structure.
We find that the ‘Norwegian’ cluster includes Norwegian IA individuals, who are distinct from both Swedish and Danish IA individuals which cluster together with the majority of central and eastern Swedish VA individuals. Many individuals from southwestern Sweden (e.g. Skara) cluster with Danish present-day individuals from the eastern islands (Funen, Zealand), skewing towards the ‘Swedish’ cluster with respect to early and more western Danish VA individuals (Jutland).
Some individuals have strong affinity with Eastern Europeans, particularly those from the island of Gotland in eastern Sweden. The latter likely reflects individuals with Baltic ancestry, as clustering with Baltic BA individuals is evident in the IBS-UMAP analysis and through f4-statistics.
Genetic clustering using IBS-UMAP suggested genetic affinities of some Viking Age individuals with Bronze Age individuals from the Baltic. To further test these, we quantified excess allele sharing of Viking Age individuals with Baltic BA compared to early Viking Age individuals from Salme using f4 statistics. We find that many individuals from the island of Gotland share a significant excess of alleles with Baltic BA, consistent with other evidence of this site being a trading post with contacts across the Baltic Sea.
The earliest N1a-VL29 sample available comes from Iron Age Gotland (VK579) ca. AD 200-400 (see Iron Age Y-DNA maps), which also proves its presence in the western Baltic before the Viking expansion. The distribution of N1a-VL29 and R1a-Z280 (compared to R1a in general) among Vikings also supports a likely expansion of both lineages in succeeding waves from the east with Akozino warrior-traders, at the same time as they expanded into the Gulf of Finland.
Vikings in Estonia
(…) only one Viking raiding or diplomatic expedition has left direct archaeological traces, at Salme in Estonia, where 41 Swedish Vikings who died violently were buried in two boats accompanied by high-status weaponry. Importantly, the Salme boat-burial predates the first textually documented raid (in Lindisfarne in 793) by nearly half a century. Comparing the genomes of 34 individuals from the Salme burial using kinship analyses, we find that these elite warriors included four brothers buried side by side and a 3rd degree relative of one of the four brothers. In addition, members of the Salme group had very similar ancestry profiles, in comparison to the profiles of other Viking burials. This suggests that this raid was conducted by genetically homogeneous people of high status, including close kin. Isotope analyses indicate that the crew descended from the Mälaren area in Eastern Sweden thus confirming that the Baltic-Mid-Swedish interaction took place early in the VA.
N1a-VL29 lineages spread again later eastwards with Varangians, from Sweden into north-eastern Europe, most likely including the ancestors of the Rurikid dynasty. Unsurprisingly, the arrival of Vikings with Swedish ancestry into the East Baltic and their dispersal through the forest zone didn’t cause a language shift of Balto-Finnic, Mordvinic, or East Slavic speakers to Old Norse, either…
NOTE. For N1a-Y4339 – N1a-L550 subclade of Swedish origin – as main haplogroup of modern descendants of Rurikid princes, see Volkov & Seslavin (2019) – full text in comments below. Data from ancient samples show varied paternal lineages even among early rulers traditionally linked to Rurik’s line, which explains some of the discrepancies found among modern descendants:
A sample from Chernihiv (VK542) potentially belonging to Gleb Svyatoslavich, the 11th century prince of Tmutarakan/Novgorod, belongs to hg. I2a-Y3120 (a subclade of early Slavic I2a-CTS10228) and has 71% “Modern Polish” ancestry (see below).
Izyaslav Ingvarevych, the 13th century prince of Dorogobuzh, Principality of Volhynia/Galicia, is probably behind a sample from Lutsk (VK541), and belongs to hg. R1a-L1029 (a subclade of R1a-M458), showing ca. 95% of “Modern Polish” ancestry.
Firstly, modern Finnish individuals are not like ancient Finnish individuals, modern individuals have ancestry of a population not in the reference; most likely Steppe/Russian ancestry, as Chinese are in the reference and do not share this direction. Ancient Swedes and Norwegians are more extreme than modern individuals in PC2 and 4. Ancient UK individuals were more extreme than Modern UK individuals in PC3 and 4. Ancient Danish individuals look rather similar to modern individuals from all over Scandinavia. By using a supervised ancient panel, we have removed recent drift from the signal, which would have affected modern Scandinavians and Finnish populations especially. This is in general a desirable feature but it is important to check that it has not affected inference.
The story for Modern-vs-ancient Finnish ancestry is consistent, with ancient Finns looking much less extreme than the moderns. Conversely, ancient Norwegians look like less-drifted modern Norwegians; the Danish admixture seen through the use of ancient DNA is hard to detect because of the extreme drift within Norway that has occurred since the admixture event. PC4 vs PC5 is the most important plot for the ancient DNA story: Sweden and the UK (along with Poland, Italy and to an extent also Norway) are visibly extremes of a distribution the same “genes-mirror-geography” that was seen in the Ancient-palette analysis. PC1 vs PC2 tells the same story – and stronger, since this is a high variance-explained PC – for the UK, Poland and Italy.
Evidence for Pictish Genomes
The four ancient genomes of Orkney individuals with little Scandinavian ancestry may be the first ones of Pictish people published to date. Yet a similar (>80% “UK ancestry) individual was found in Ireland (VK545) and five in Scandinavia, implying that Pictish populations were integrated into Scandinavian culture by the Viking Age.
Our interpretation for the Orkney samples can be summarised as follows. Firstly, they represent “native British” ancestry, rather than an unusual type of Scandinavian ancestry. Secondly, that this “British” ancestry was found in Britain before the Anglo-Saxon migrations. Finally, that in Orkney, these individuals would have descended from Pictish populations.
(…) ‘UK’ represents a group from which modern British and Irish people all receive an ancestry component. This information together implies that within the sampling frame of our data, they are proxying the ‘Briton’ component in UK ancestry; that is, a pre-Roman genetic component present across the UK. Given they were found in Orkney, this makes it very likely that they were descended from a Pictish population.
Modern genetic variation within the UK sees variation between ‘native Briton’ populations Wales, Scotland, Cornwall and Ireland as large compared to that within the more ‘Anglo-Saxon’ English. This is despite subsequent gene flow into those populations from English-like populations. We have not attempted to disentangle modern genetic drift from historically distinct populations. Roman-era period people in England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland may not have been genetically close to these Orkney individuals, but our results show that they have a shared genetic component as they represent the same direction of variation.
As in the case of mitochondrial DNA, the overall distribution profile of the Y chromosomal haplogroups in the Viking Age samples was similar to that of the modern North European populations. The most frequently encountered male lineages were the haplogroups I1, R1b and R1a.
Haplogroup I (I1, I2)
The distribution of I1 in southern Scandinavia, including a sample from Sealand (VK532) ca. AD 100 (see Iron Age Y-DNA maps) proves that it had become integrated into the West Germanic population already before their expansions, something that we already suspected thanks to the sampling of Germanic tribes.
Haplogroup R1b (M269, U106, P312)
Especially interesting is the finding of R1b-L151 widely distributed in the historical Nordic Bronze Age region, which is in line with the estimated TMRCA for R1b-P312 subclades found in Scandinavia, despite the known bottleneck among Germanic peoples under U106. Particularly telling in this regard is the finding of rare haplogroups R1b-DF19, R1b-L238, or R1b-S1194. All of that points to the impact of Bell Beaker-derived peoples during the Dagger period, when Pre-Proto-Germanic expanded into Scandinavia.
Also interesting is the finding of hg. R1b-P297 in Troms, Norway (VK531) ca. 2400 BC. R1b-P297 subclades might have expanded to the north through Finland with post-Swiderian Mesolithic groups (read more about Scandinavian hunter-gatherers), and the ancestry of this sample points to that origin.
However, it is also known that ancestry might change within a few generations of admixture, and that the transformation brought about by Bell Beakers with the Dagger Period probably reached Troms, so this could also be a R1b-M269 subclade. In fact, the few available data from this sample show that it comes from the natural harbour Skarsvågen at the NW end of the island Senja, and that its archaeologist thought it was from the Viking period or slightly earlier, based on the grave form. From Prescott (2017):
In 1995, Prescott and Walderhaug tentatively argued that a dramatic transformation took place in Norway around the Late Neolithic (2350 BCE), and that the swift nature of this transition was tied to the initial Indo-Europeanization of southern and coastal Norway, at least to Trøndelag and perhaps as far north as Troms. (…)
The Bell Beaker/early Late Neolithic, however, represents a source and beginning of these institution and practices, exhibits continuity to the following metal age periods and integrated most of Northern Europe’s Nordic region into a set of interaction fields. This happened around 2400 BCE, at the MNB to LN transition.
NOTE. This particular sample is not included in the maps of Viking haplogroups.
Among the ancient samples, two individuals were derived haplogroups were identified as E1b1b1-M35.1, which are frequently encountered in modern southern Europe, Middle East and North Africa. Interestingly, the individuals carrying these haplogroups had much less Scandinavian ancestry compared to the most samples inferred from haplotype based analysis. A similar pattern was also observed for less frequent haplogroups in our ancient dataset, such as G (n=3), J (n=3) and T (n=2), indicating a possible non-Scandinavian male genetic component in the Viking Age Northern Europe. Interestingly, individuals carrying these haplogroups were from the later Viking Age (10th century and younger), which might indicate some male gene influx into the Viking population during the Viking period.
As the paper says, the small sample size of rare haplogroups cannot distinguish if these differences are statistically relevant. Nevertheless, both E1b samples have substantial Modern Polish-like ancestry: one sample from Gotland (VK474), of hg. E1b-L791, has ca. 99% “Polish” ancestry, while the other one from Denmark (VK362), of hg. E1b-V13, has ca. 35% “Polish”, ca. 35% “Italian”, as well as some “Danish” (14%) and minor “British” and “Finnish” ancestry.
Given the E1b-V13 samples of likely Central-East European origin among Lombards, Visigoths, and especially among Early Slavs, and the distribution of “Polish” ancestry among Viking samples, VK362 is probably a close description of the typical ancestry of early Slavs. The peak of Modern Polish-like ancestry around the Upper Pripyat during the (late) Viking Age suggests that Poles (like East Slavs) have probably mixed since the 10th century with more eastern peoples close to north-eastern Europeans, derived from ancient Finno-Ugrians:
Similarly, the finding of R1a-M458 among Vikings in Funen, Denmark (VK139), in Lutsk, Poland (VK541), and in Kurevanikha, Russia (VK160), apart from the early Slav from Usedom, may attest to the origin of the spread of this haplogroup in the western Baltic after the Bell Beaker expansion, once integrated in both Germanic and Balto-Slavic populations, as well as intermediate Bronze Age peoples that were eventually absorbed by their expansions. This contradicts, again, my simplistic initial assessment of R1a-M458 expansion as linked exclusively (or even mainly) to Balto-Slavs.
There is overwhelming evidence that the oldest hydrotoponymic layer in Italy (and especially Etruria) is of Old European nature, which means that non-Indo-European-speaking (or, at least, non-Old-European-speaking) Etruscans came later to the Apennine Peninsula.
Furthermore, there is direct and indirect linguistic, archaeological, and palaeogenomic data supporting that the intrusive Tursānoi came from the Aegean during the Late Bronze Age, possibly through the Adriatic, and that their languages spread to Etruria and probably also to the eastern Alps.
The name Indo-Mediterranean substrate was spread in Italy by the work of V. Pisani. Other Italian scholars continued this idea, such as W. Belardi, L. Heilmann, D. Silvestri, etc. In their hands, the nuclear area of the Indo-Mediterranean substratum was established as follows: “il mondo culturale indomediterráneo trova i suoi più importanti centri di gravitazione (e, soltanto secondariamente, di espansione) nel Mediterràneo Orientale (Creta, Cipro, Asia Minore), nella ‘regione dei due fiumi’ (area di espansione subarea) e nella valle dell’Indo (civiltà de Harappa e Mohenjo Daro)”. From there they could have spread to other areas, such as the western Mediterranean. Even at one point there was talk of “a Mediterranean oasis in the Baltic”, whose main basis was the existence of numerous lexical elements, real or supposedly pre-Indo-European in the Baltic languages.
One of the paradoxes of the theory of the Mediterranean substrate is that the lexical or toponymic components that are attributed to it can rarely be explained etymologically from the surviving languages of said supposed substrate; sometimes they are not even very compatible with what we know of the non-Indo-European languages of the corresponding area. For example, neither Basque nor Iberian have an ancestral and autochthonous phoneme /p/, while that phoneme is frequent in substrate words (cf. among the few mentioned above *pal- and *lap-). In fact, for these three languages other alternative origins have been imagined, so that they would not be representatives of the local substrate: Basque (North Africa, the Caucasus), Iberian (North Africa), Etruscan (Asia Minor). Thus, under such hypotheses the non-Indo-European languages attested in Italy and the Iberian Peninsula would not be autochthonous, but as immigrant as the Indo-European languages.
Not few of the coincident place names between the southern Iberian and Italic material are rigorous cognates. We understand by such the names that not only coincide in the root or in the serial element, but in the whole root set plus suffixes, or – if it is a compound – in the two sets of roots plus suffixes. In addition to the ones that we are going to present below, there are others that we did not mention because the Iberian correlate was not found within the southern group, but in other geographical areas, as is the case, for example, with the Italian Mantua and the Spanish Mantua (Carpetania).
As can be seen, the parallels between the southern Iberian toponymic area and the Italic one are so wide and strict that the mere calculation of probabilities makes any attempt to attribute them to the mere chance of random homophony irrational. And the improbability of chance increases as coincidences are added in new places in Europe. What will not prevent, for sure, that some would resort to it as an explanation, in particular those who are reluctant to abandon the conception of the prehistory of the European continent that underlies their usual approaches, which suffer an irreparable strike when they are confronted with these data.
The second aspect, the compatibility of this material with Indo-European etymology, offers another significant correlation: the “southern” series that are also found in the Ibero-Pyrenean region and in Italy (and the rest of western Europe) are compatible with Indo-European etymologies; (…)
I will spare the reader of all proposed Indo-European etymologies, most of which are fairly evident. Those interested should buy one of the books, or both.
(…) in the whole of Italy there is a considerable collection of toponyms and hydronyms of “Southern Iberian” type, whose joint inventory we have contributed to above. From them we find in Etruria Ause, Veturris / Bituriza, Castola, Hasta, Cortona, Luca, Minio, Osa / Ossa, Pissai, Pistoria. The Hispanic and Italian correlates of those names are:
However, the inventory of ancient names and hydronyms of Etruria compatible without discussion with well-known Indo-European etymologies is much wider: Albina, Alma, Alsium, Arnine, Arnos, Arnus, Aventia, Marta, Pallia, Umbro, Vetulonium, Volsinii. Furthermore, the majority of Etrurian hydronyms have non-Latin Indo-European etymology: Albina, Alma, Arnine, Arnos, Arnus, Auser, Aventia, Marta, Minio, Osa, Ossa, Pallia, Umbro. And very few of the others (Clusinus, Cremera, Lingeus, Trasumenus, Vesidia) could claim an Etruscan etymology, if only one could do so.
In summary, the territory occupied by Etruscans presents a hydro-toponymic situation very similar to that of the rest of Italy and Western Europe: it exhibits a very deep toponymic stratum of Indo-European character to which most hydronyms attested in antiquity belong. As we know the history of Etruria from the end of the 1st millennium BC, and we know that no other Indo-European peoples mediated between the Etruscans and the Romanization of the territory, we must conclude that this ancient toponymy was there before the Etruscans arrived or emerged in that place. And, when the Etruscans settled there, they did not have the opportunity to put names of their language to the rivers in general, because they had already received them from a previous people and the Etruscans limited themselves to learning them, adapting them to their language, and transmitting them in turn to the Romans. When the latter Romanized Etruria, they limited themselves to incorporating those names and adapting them to Latin.
The ‘foreign’ Tyrsenians
Here is a recapitulation of the main reasons why Etruscans were recently intrusive to Italy, as they appeared in The Origin of the Etruscans, by Beekes (2003):
The tradition as given by Herodotus and Dionysius of Halikarnassos.
The story that the Etruscans were Pelasgians.
The use of the term ‘Tyrsēnoi’ for both Etruscans and a people in north-western Asia Minor. Above we argued that the eastern Tyrsēnoi are the remnant of a population. This means that the Tyrsēnoi/Etruscans came from this area.
The Lemnos inscription.
To the testimony of Lemnos must now be added that Herodotus says that the people of Plakiê and Skylakê spoke the same language as the Etruscans.
The kumdanlı inscription. (…) lake Egridir (of which the old name is unknown, unless it was just Limnai). This is just over the border of classical Lydia. The inscription dates from the second century ad and is given by Ramsay (i883); the same inscription is cited by Sundwall (i9i3, 22i). It mentions three people as Tyrsēnoi(67, 68, i02). Though very late, the inscription is of great interest, as it is the only time that we have inscriptional evidence for Tyrsēnoi in Asia Minor. (And nobody will argue that these were Etruscans from Italy.) (…)
The suffix -ānos. The suffix -ānos in the name Tyrsēnoi (with ē from ā) points to the north-west of Asia Minor. It has long since been recognized that this suffix for ethnic names is at home in north-west Asia Minor; some think that it is of non-Greek origin; cf. Αβυδηνός , Ολυμπιηνός, Περγαμηνός, Σαρδηνός; (see Chantraine i933, 206; Schwyzer 490 (6); De Simone i993, 88ff.). This proves that the name Tyrsēnoi originated in the north-west of Asia Minor. (…)
Loanwords. As to the language, Steinbauer (i999, 367) observes that Etruscan shows most connections (loanwords) with Lydian (…)
Tarchon. The definite proof of the oriental origin of the Etruscans is that a ‘hero’ of great significance is Tarchon (Briquel i99i). He is clearly the Stormgod Tarhun(t)-, the highest god of the Luwians and Hittites.
Nanas. This identification is strongly confirmed by the story that the Etruscans were Pelasgians who came from Greece under Nanas (Nanos), mentioned by Hellanikos. This name was long ago recognized as an Anatolian ‘Lallname’.
The triumphus complex. In his study of the Roman triumphus Versnel has shown that (i970, 293): ‘the Etruscans brought the New Year festival with them from Asia Minor, together with the god who formed the centre of it, a god whom the Greeks called Dionysos, the Etruscans Tinia (or by an Italic name Voltumna), a figure of the ‘dying and rising’ type, who was invoked by the cry *thriambe and who on New Year’s Day was represented by the king.’ And on p. 300: ‘The Etruscans brought the New Year festival with them from Asia Minor and gave Rome two ceremonies: the ludi Romani as the festival of the New Year, the triumph as the festival of the victory. … Only along this way is it possible to explain the data: i. the Dionysiac call to epiphany triumpe, introduced via Etruria; 2. the identification of the Roman victorious general and of the magistrate leading the games with the god Iuppiter; 3. the typological and historic relation between the ludi Romani and the triumph.’
The double axe. On a smaller issue Versnel concludes (p. 299): ‘When this bipennis [‘double axe’], property of ‘Zeus Bakchos’, carried as symbol of sacred power by Lydian kings, is encountered again as the symbol of the royal authority of the Etruscan kings, particularly of the supreme king of the federation of cities, this may be considered an important indication of the Asia Minor origin of the entire underlying ideology, and of the ceremony of investiture in which the bipennis played a part.’ These conclusions are of primary importance, as they concern a deeprooted complex of religious views that cannot have been taken over from elsewhere.
The Kabeiroi. One might also recall the Latin word camillus, which means a young boy of noble birth who assists with ritual actions. (…) Probably more evidence can be found in the field of religion, such as the much discussed hepatoscopy. It seems quite probable to me that the lituus, the crosier used by the Roman priests, is Anatolian (see e.g. Wainwright i959, 2i0; cf. Haas i99i, Abb. 75, the Stormgod standing on an animal with his lituus over his shoulder).
The Etruscan way of life. There was in antiquity much criticism on Etruscan customs, concerning cruelty, sexual behaviour, and the behaviour of women. (…) Dionysius concluded from the fact that they were so strange that they had always lived in Italy, whereas it is of course much more natural to explain it by assuming that they were strangers.
No withdrawal area. We have seen above that Tuscany is not a ‘withdrawal area’, where an ancient people may hold out when the country is invaded. On the contrary, it is a desirable area which the Indo-European peoples, had they come later, would certainly have occupied. (But it went the other way: the Etruscans came long after the Indo-Europeans and settled there/conquered the country.)
Archaeology. Many scholars would like to see archaeological evidence, but I think that it is quite possible that we shall never find any.
The 1200 crisis. In 1200 the whole Mediterranean was in commotion; the Mycenaean and Hittite worlds, between which the TyrseOEnoi lived, disappeared. So the movement of the Etruscans fits very well in the general picture. That this was the setting of the migration of the Etruscans has been assumed by many earlier scholars.
The ten saecula. As to the time, it has been argued that the Etruscans thought that their world would last ten saecula (Briquel i999, 58; Pfiffig i975, i59ff.). The way of counting provides several problems, however (…) If we accept it, we arrive at 968 bc. Now we do not know from when one started counting. This might have been a decisive victory over the Umbrians, or a kind of unification of the Etruscans, or the founding of an important city. It could well be that this was some 200 years after the arrival of the Etruscans, which would take us to 1168 bc. (…)
The famine. Herodotus states that the reason for the departure of the Tyrsēnoi was a long famine. This has been identified as the famine about i200. (…)
The sea-peoples. (…) The phenomenon as a whole stands, it seems; the problem is the details: which peoples took part in which movements? In our case, as the Lukka are mentioned (which were very probably the Lycians), the Tyrsēnoi may have been involved as well. So the question is whether the T(w)r(w)š, mentioned by Merneptah, were the Tyrsēnoi. We have no confirmation, but it seems quite possible.
The journey. We know from the abundant finds of ceramics in the i3th century that the Mycenaeans knew the sea-route to Italy. (…)
The Umbrians. Pliny (3, ii2) states that the Etruscans conquered 300 cities from the Umbrians (Trecenta eorum oppida Tusci debellasse reperiuntur.). This clearly refers to the ‘Landnahme’. This statement is confirmed by the river Umbro (mod. Ombrone), which flows in its full length in Etruscan territory. The river will have given its name to the people, or vice versa. Anyhow, the river will have flowed in Umbrian territory; so the Etruscans must have pushed the Umbrians out.
The name Sergestus, of a prominent friend of Aeneas, seems identical with Lydian Srkastu- and Phrygian Surkastos (…) it is excluded that (Virgil) got it from Lydia or Phrygia, or Asa Minor in general. So he must have got it at home, from a source that was acqainted with Etruscan traditions. This means that the name was known to the Etruscans (or those who studied their traditions). Above I proposed that it lives on in Etr. Sekst-alu-.
You can read the full text (and its appendices) for further evidences adduced by Beekes, who considers the matter mostly settled.
Local Italic peoples
Another main reason for the intrusion of Tyrsenians among local groups is the ancient connection between Italic languages, which most likely formed an ancient Apennine dialect continuum:
the core Italic group with Latino-Faliscan and Palaeo-Sabellic – probably also including an Ausonian-Siculian branch – separated ca. 1500-1000 BC;
NOTE. Sicel is believed to have arrived in Sicily with Ausonian-Siculian speakers either around the 13th c. or in the middle of the 11th c. BC (or in both waves), from their ancient settlements in the mainland, driving prior inhabitants (Elymians) to the east of the island, which sets another clear terminus ante quem for the expansion of Italic languages in southern Italy.
and the possibly more distantly related North Picene and Venetic, connecting all roughly to an early to mid-2nd millennium BC language.
This continuum was probably broken (with language replacement and displacement events) with the 12th c. BC turmoil and the emergence of new social hierarchies. The adoption of older place and river names, as well as the lack of long-lasting influence on neighbouring languages, suggests that the predominance of the Etruscan language in its proto-historic territory was probably gradual and quite recent.
NOTE. For more on guesstimates, relative chronological expansions and potential archaeological identifications, see e.g. “Ausgliederung und Aufgliederung der italischen Sprachen”, by Helmut Rix In: Languages in Prehistoric Europe (2003). Or, basically, any recent (linguistic) text on the distribution and attribution of ancient Apennine languages to the Ital(o-Venet)ic group.
The main criticism against this ethnolinguistic model of foreign Tyrsenians comes, surprisingly, from the lack of archaeological data to support this arrival. Or, rather, fitting anthropological interpretations of a culture of Asia Minor with similar hierarchical societies (?). From Review of R. S. P. Beekes, The Origin of the Etruscans, by Mahoney, Etruscan Studies (2008):
A crucial part of Beekes’ argument, however, is that there is a significant cultural break in Etruria around 1200, at the beginning of the Early Bronze Age or Proto-Villanovan period (p. 34, citing Briquel and Torelli). The introduction of cremation can be dated to around this period, and there is also evidence for a new hierarchical social organization (convenient summary in Barker and Rasmussen, p. 53-60). Beekes simply says that there is a change, and changes of this sort can come about when new people move in to an existing society, so therefore this change is consistent with his theory. That is correct as far as it goes, but what is missing is any consideration of how and why people coming in from Asia Minor would cause the particular changes that take place in Etruria. Can we argue that the society of the pre-migration Tyrsenians was hierarchical in the same way as those of the various Indo-European-speaking peoples in the region? Beekes simply says “what we still would like to have is material objects, or art traditions etc., from Etruria agreeing with their homeland” (p. 34). What we would really like to have is evidence for the organization of society in this alleged homeland.
The collapse of the Terramare system c. 1150 BC was followed by a sudden and substantial depopulation of the central part of the Po Plain (Cardarelli 2009). At the beginning of the Final Bronze Age, the southern part of the Po Valley was almost abandoned. In contrast, in the northern part of the Po Valley, some villages survived (…) Concurrently, a new territorial system arose, pivoting around the socio-economic pole of Frattesina (Calzavara Capuis et al. 1984; Bietti Sestieri et al. 2015; Cupitò et al. 2015). Therefore, within the area of the wider Terramare ‘culture’, local responses to the crisis led to different outcomes, some of which were relatively successful and others catastrophic. Economic factors—both in terms of internal carrying capacity and degree of openness to external relations—probably played a key role in determining different responses to the tensions.
The communities of the Terramare, especially in the southern area, were probably not flexible enough to adapt their political structure and modes of production to the needs of a rapidly changing world. Moreover, the domino effect from the overall geo-political instability of the twelfth century BC, in a highly interconnected system such as the Mediterranean, was undoubtedly another factor (Cardarelli 2009). The lack of evidence in the southern Terramare area for connections with the Aegean and the Levant suggests a more ‘closed’ system located on the edge of the ‘globalised’ world of the Late Bronze Age. In contrast, there is well-documented evidence from the largest terramare on the northern side of the Po River for possible incipient institutionalised, well-connected elites—particularly at Fondo Paviani, which has yielded locally produced pottery in Levantine and Late Helladic IIIC Aegean-Mycenaean styles (Bettelli et al. 2015).
The display of austere equality that dominated the Middle and Late Bronze Age ‘urnfields’ (Salzani 2005; Cardarelli 2014) strongly limited funerary expressions of social differentiation. Internal inequalities nonetheless existed between different co-resident extended families and lineages comprising tens of individuals at most (e.g. at Casinalbo; Cardarelli et al. 2014: 722–28), and, above all, between large centres, such as the terramara at Fondo Paviani and dependent satellite settlements (Balista et al. 2005; Cupitò et al. 2015). It seems reasonable therefore to hypothesise that groups based at nodal sites in the system attracted more prestige goods from exotic places, along with individuals from distant areas, while small villages attracted people mainly from within a local radius (Cavazzuti et al. 2019a). Within this dynamic cultural context, the Final Bronze Age funerary evidence from Frattesina documents a more elaborate display of power and wealth concentrated in the hands of elites. At Le Narde (Frattesina’s cemetery), this privileged segment of society, probably with its own entourage, is clearly represented by a small number of burials with several indicators of prestige.
(…) the individual in burial Narde1-168 may have achieved the status of a ‘warrior-chief’, as symbolised by the presence of an Allerona-type sword (Bianco Peroni 1970). This was ritually broken and deposited in pieces inside the grave, along with a bronze pin, a pair of tweezers and other ornaments (Figure 8). (…) yielded a strontium isotope ratio (0.70983) that is incompatible with the local 0–20km baseline (Table 3), but fits within the 20–50km range. By contrast, the value obtained from the femoral cortical bone (0.70924) is consistent with the local range of Frattesina. This means that this individual moved to the site after early childhood—possibly during youth or early adulthood—and he probably spent the last years of his life there, at the apex of the community.
Marshall Sahlins (1981), in his famous article ‘The stranger-king: or Dumézil among the Fijians’, compares the dynamics of power in the Fiji Islands to the Indo-European tradition, arguing that human societies tend to locate power as originating from the outside (Sahlins 1981, 2008; see also Ling & Rowlands 2015). Sahlins focuses on origin myths across ancient polities in the Indo-European language area, which systematically feature a dichotomy between what the Romans called gravitas and celeritas. The former refers to the conservative, peaceful and productive character of an established native community, while celeritas represents the disruptive, transformative violence personified in the stranger king, who “erupts upon a pastoral scene of peaceful husbandry and political equality (or at least limited authority)” (Sahlins 1981: 112).
The individual buried in grave Narde1-168 at Frattesina was probably neither a true ‘king’, nor a true ‘stranger’. Despite its uniqueness, his grave resembles those of the rest of the community and is included within a large collective—or at least not evidently exclusive—burial mound. ‘Warrior-chief’ perhaps would be a more appropriate definition for this individual. Moreover, his place of origin was not so distant as to define him as a ‘stranger’. Nonetheless, Sahlins’s archetype of the ‘stranger-king’ evokes the power of alterity; burial Narde1-168 perfectly embodies celeritas, which breaks with the gravitas of the former Terramare tradition and guided whatever survived the collapse towards a new social model. Since the discovery of Frattesina and its cemeteries, Italian scholars have debated the mechanisms underlying the origin and economic success of the settlement, and the degree of foreign (i.e. Cypriot and Levantine) involvement in this process as suggested by archaeological finds (Cupitò et al. 2015). The new isotopic data presented here demonstrate that even though some individuals may have come from the Levant—where the available 87Sr/86Sr baseline ranges from 0.7079–0.7086 (Sheridan & Gregoricka 2015; Gregoricka & Guise Sheridan 2016)—or were from other exotic places, they nonetheless represent a minority of the population and, in any case, not the upper elite. The latter appear quite mobile, although probably from within the broader hinterland radius.
Adriatic or western route?
One of the interesting questions, and probably non-trivial for the correct interpretation of ancestry in future ancient DNA samples, is from where exactly did Tyrsenians come from, and more importantly where exactly did the arrive, and when. I have the impression that a Tyrrhenian Sea route is more commonly depicted (as in my maps) due to the historical predominance of Etruscans in the west, but that archaeologists usually consider the Adriatic – and thus a spread from the Po River Valley and/or Pannonia – a more likely route for Tyrsenian speakers, and probably rightly so.
NOTE. The tentative (and highly speculative) classification of fragmentary Rhaetian as more archaic than Etruscan relative to Lemnian may give further support to this route.
Failing a precise time transect from a population geographically close to the origin of their expansion in central or northern Italy, we are bound to see the same misinterpretations of the data we have seen in the case of Sea Peoples of hg. R1b behind Philistines. Nevertheless, here are some interesting predictions of population movements by Pabst (2013) based particularly on the Stätzling-/Allerona-sword from Narde in Veneto, which have been confirmed for the moment with isotope analyses, showing that some peoples of Frattesina had previously lived in the eastern Mediterranean, and that local elites had a much closer origin:
An Ingot fragment from the hoard of Hočko Pohorje in Styria, Slovenia indicates that possibly also Pannonia was involved in the 12th century BC (or during stage Ha A1) in the East and Central Mediterranean copper trade. According to the chemical composition or the high iron content, it is particularly close to individual finds from Sardinia, Italy and Anatolia.
The people behind the Stätzling swords could have been the potentates of this supraregional trade in the Adriatic and Ionian seas. This is also to be expected from the presence of late Mycenaean populations on the upper Adriatic. This is indicated – in addition to individual Mycenaean ceramics imports – especially in the Aegean Stätzling sword from the fly cave of Škocjan in the hinterland of Trieste, in this exchange network of the 12th century BC. However, not only people from the late Mycenaean cultural area were involved in the process. For native elites are suspected behind the mostly locally manufactured Stätzling swords in Pannonia and Italy, according to the analysis of the grave find 227 of Narde; perhaps local organizers of the trade, as allies of the Mycenaean chiefs.
Palaeogenomics might help shed light upon the complex matter of the Tyrsenian emergence in Europe. Even though Rhaetian is a fragmentary language, it seems that it is related to Etruscan, and neither are remnant languages from the Bronze Age, but rather intrusive languages to Italy and Central Europe.
While Bronze Age samples of west-central Italy show a clear homogenisation of the genetic pool, with a shift in the PCA towards central Europe (away from the previous CHG/Iran Neolithic influence), and thus close to the modern Sardinian cluster, the few investigated Iron Age samples from the Republican period (ca. 700–20 BC) show a widespread genetic cluster encompassing the modern Italian ones, overlapping North Italian (ca. 60%) or South Italian/Sicilian (ca. 40%) clusters. The arrival or increase of EHG-, Levant Neolithic-, or CHG/IN-related ancestry in samples from this period suggest influence from previous population movements during the LBA from the north or through the Mediterranean, respectively. The Imperial Period shows influence from CHG/IN-related ancestry, but only sporadically Levant Neolithic.
Kristiansen is among those who offer an alternative view in the archaeological question, supporting the opposite direction of population movements: of Terramare migrants in Greece, a theory which is not to be lightly dismissed, in the complex setting of population movements across the Mediterranean during the Final Bronze Age.
As a weak linguistic support for such a movement, one can find the hypothesis of Eteo-Cretans as Osco-Umbrian speakers, based on de Ligt’s speculative interpretation of the Praisos inscription (Talanta 2008-2009).
It seems that, even if these views are also correct, the overwhelming evidence is for a foreign origin of Tyrsenians:
lack of Tyrsenian hydrotoponymic layers in Italy or central Europe;
guesstimates and “split” distribution of Italo-Venetic languages;
foreign culture and influences of Etruscans;
recent predominance and influence of Etruscan language and culture;
East Mediterranean peoples in the LBA Po Valley (isotope analyses);
Interesting excerpts (modified for clarity, emphasis mine):
Here, we report genome-wide data from human remains excavated at the ancient seaport of Ashkelon, forming a genetic time series encompassing the Bronze to Iron Age transition. We find that all three Ashkelon populations derive most of their ancestry from the local Levantine gene pool. The early Iron Age population was distinct in its high genetic affinity to European-derived populations and in the high variation of that affinity, suggesting that a gene flow from a European-related gene pool entered Ashkelon either at the end of the Bronze Age or at the beginning of the Iron Age. Of the available contemporaneous populations, we model the southern European gene pool as the best proxy for this incoming gene flow. Last, we observe that the excess European affinity of the early Iron Age individuals does not persist in the later Iron Age population, suggesting that it had a limited genetic impact on the long-term population structure of the people in Ashkelon.
Genetic discontinuity between the Bronze Age and the early Iron Age people of Ashkelon
In comparison to ASH_LBA, the four ASH_IA1 individuals from the following Iron Age I period are, on average, shifted along PC1 toward the European cline and are more spread out along PC1, overlapping with ASH_LBA on one extreme and with the Greek Late Bronze Age “S_Greece_LBA” on the other. Similarly, genetic clustering assigns ASH_IA1 with an average of 14% contribution from a cluster maximized in the Mesolithic European hunter-gatherers labeled “WHG” (shown in blue in Fig. 2B) (15, 22, 26). This component is inferred only in small proportions in earlier Bronze Age Levantine populations (2 to 9%).
In agreement with the PCA and ADMIXTURE results, only European hunter-gatherers (including WHG) and populations sharing a history of genetic admixture with European hunter-gatherers (e.g., as European Neolithic and post-Neolithic populations) produced significantly positive f4-statistics (Z ≥ 3), suggesting that, compared to ASH_LBA, ASH_IA1 has additional European-related ancestry.
We find that the PC1 coordinates positively correlate with the proportion of WHG ancestry modeled in the Ashkelon individuals, suggesting that WHG reasonably tag a European-related ancestral component within the ASH_IA1 individuals.
The best supported one (χ2P = 0.675) infers that ASH_IA1 derives around 43% of ancestry from the Greek Bronze Age “Crete_Odigitria_BA” (43.1 ± 19.2%) and the rest from the ASH_LBA population.
(…) only the models including “Sardinian,” “Crete_Odigitria_BA,” or “Iberia_BA” as the candidate population provided a good fit (χ2P = 0.715, 49.3 ± 8.5%; χ2P = 0.972, 38.0 ± 22.0%; and χ2P = 0.964, 25.8 ± 9.3%, respectively). We note that, because of geographical and temporal sampling gaps, populations that potentially contributed the “European-related” admixture in ASH_IA1 could be missing from the dataset.
The transient impact of the “European-related” gene flow on the Ashkelon gene pool
The ASH_IA2 individuals are intermediate along PC1 between the ASH_LBA ones and the earlier Bronze Age Levantines (Jordan_EBA/Lebanon_MBA) in the west Eurasian PCA (Fig. 2A). Notably, despite being chronologically closer to ASH_IA1, the ASH_IA2 individuals position closer, on average, to the earlier Bronze Age individuals.
The transient excess of European-related genetic affinity in ASH_IA1 can be explained by two scenarios. The early Iron Age European-related genetic component could have been diluted by either the local Ashkelon population to the undetectable level at the time of the later Iron Age individuals or by a gene flow from a population outside of Ashkelon introduced during the final stages of the early Iron Age or the beginning of the later Iron Age.
By modeling ASH_IA2 as a mixture of ASH_IA1 and earlier Bronze Age Levantines/Late Period Egyptian, we infer a range of 7 to 38% of contribution from ASH_IA1, although no contribution cannot be rejected because of the limited resolution to differentiate between Bronze Age and early Iron Age ancestries in this model.
Hg. R1b-M269 and the Aegean
I already predicted this relationship of Philistines and Aegeans (Greeks in particular) months ago, based on linguistics, archaeology, and phylogeography, although it was (and still is) yet unclear if these paternal lineages might have come from other nearby populations which might be descended from Common Anatolians instead, given the known intense contacts between Helladic and West Anatolian groups.
The deduction process for the Greek connection was quite simple:
These samples may well be related to remnants of previous Balkan populations like Cernavodă or Ezero, because there has been no peer-reviewed attempt at distinguishing Khvalynsk-/Novodanilovka- from Sredni Stog- from Yamnaya-related populations (see here), and some groups that are associated with this ancestry, like Corded Ware, are known to be culturally distinct from Yamna.
In any case, Proto-Greeks from the southern Balkans (say, Sitagroi IV and related groups) are probably going to show, based on Palaeo-Balkan substrate and Pre-Greek substrate and on the available Mycenaean samples, a process of decreasing proportion of R1b-Z2103 lineages relative to local ones, and a relatively similar cline of Yamna:EEF ancestry from northern to southern areas, at least in the periods closest to the Yamna expansion.
NOTE. The finding of “archaic” R1b-L389 (R1b-V1636) and R1a-M198 subclades among modern Greeks and the likely Neolithic origin of these paternal lineages around the Caucasus suggest that their presence in Greece may be from any of the more recent migrations that have happened between Anatolia and the Balkans, especially during the Common Era, rather than Indo-Anatolian migrations; probably very very recently.
Minoans and haplogroup J
In the Aegean, it is already evident that the population changed language partly through cultural diffusion, probably through elite domination of Proto-Greek speakers. Whether that happened before the invasion into the Greek Peninsula or after it is unclear, as we discussed recently, because we only have one reported Y-chromosome haplogroup among Mycenaeans, and it is J (probably continuing earlier lineages).
Now we have more samples from the so-called Emporion 2 cluster in Olalde et al. (2019), which shows Mycenaean-like eastern Mediterranean ancestry and 3 (out of 3) samples of haplogroup J, which – given the origin of the colony in Phocea – may be interpreted as the prevalence of West Anatolian-like ancestry and lineages in the eastern part of the Aegean (and possibly thus south Peloponnese), in line with the modern situation.
NOTE. It does not seem likely that those R or R1b-L23 samples from the Emporion 1 cluster are R1b-Z2103, based on their West European-like ancestry, although they still may be, because – as we know – ancestry (unlike haplogroup) changes too easily to interpret it as an ancestral ethnolinguistic marker.
Greeks and haplogroup R1b-M269
Therefore, while the presence of R1b-Z2103 among ancient Balkan peoples connected to the Yamna expansion is clear, one might ask if R1b-Z2103 really spread up to the Peloponnese by the time of the Mycenaean Civilization. That has only one indirect answer, and it’s most likely yes.
We already had some R1b-Z2103 among Thracians and around the Armenoid homeland, which offers another clue at the migration of these lineages from the Balkans. The distribution of different “archaic” R1b-Z2103 subclades among modern Balkan populations and around the Aegean offered more support to this conclusion.
But now we have two interesting ancient populations that bear witness to the likely intrusion of R1b-M269 with Proto-Greeks:
An Ancient Greek of hg. R1b
A single ancient sample supports the increase in R1b-Z2103 among Greeks during the “Dorian” invasions that triggered the Dark Ages and the phenomenon of the Aegean Sea Peoples. It comes from a Greek lab study, showing R1b1b (i.e. R1b-P297 in the old nomenclature) as the only Y-chromosome haplogroup obtained from the sampling of the Gulf of Amurakia ca. 470-30 BC, i.e. before the Roman foundation of Nikopolis, hence from people likely from Anaktorion in Ancient Acarnania, of Corinthian origin.
Even with the few data available – and with the caution necessary for this kind of studies from non-established labs, which may be subject to many different kinds of errors – one could argue that the western Greek areas, which received different waves of migrants from the north and shows a higher distribution of R1b-Z2103 in modern times, was probably more heavily admixed with R1b-Z2103 than southern and eastern areas, which were always dominated by Greek-speaking populations more heavily admixed with locals.
The Dorian invasion and the Greek Dark Ages may thus account for a renewed influx of R1b-Z2103 lineages accompanying the dialects that would eventually help form the Hellenic Koiné. In a sense, it is only natural that demographically stronger populations around the Bronze Age Aegean would suffer a limited (male) population replacement with the succeeding invasions, starting with a higher genetic impact in the north-west and diminishing as they progressed to the south and the east, coupled with stepped admixture events with local populations.
Thanks to Wang et al. (2018) supplementary materials we knew that one of the two Levantine LBA II samples from Tel Shadud (final 13th–early 11th c. BC) published in van den Brink (2017) was of hg. R1b-M269 – in fact, the one interpreted as a Canaanite official residing at this site and emulating selected funerary aspects of Egyptian mortuary culture.
Both analyzed samples, this elite individual and a commoner of hg. J buried nearby, were genetically similar and indistinguishable from local populations, though:
Principal Components Analysis of L112 and L126 was carried out within the framework described in Lazaridis et al. (2016). This analysis showed that the two individuals cluster genetically, with similar estimated proportions of ancestry from diverse West Eurasian ancestral sources. These results are consistent with the hypothesis that they derive from the same population, or alternatively that they derive from two quite closely related populations.
We know that ancestry changes easily within a few generations, so there was not much information to go on, except for the fact that – being R1b-M269 – this individual could trace his paternal ancestor at some point to Proto-Indo-Europeans.
One might think that, because many haplogroups in this spreadsheet were wrong, this is also wrong; nevertheless, many haplogroups are correctly identified by Yleaf, and finding R1b-M269 in the Levant after the expansion of Sea Peoples could not be that surprising, because they were most likely related to populations of the Aegean Sea. Any other related hg. R1b (R1b-M73, R1b-V88, even R1b-V1636) wouldn’t fit as well as R1b-M269.
However, the early expansion of Proto-Indo-Aryans into the Middle East, as well as the later expansion of Armenians from the Balkans through Anatolia and of West Iranians from the east may have all potentially been related to this sample. But still, the previous linguistic and archaeological theories concerning the Philistines and the expansion of Sea Peoples in the Levant made this sample a likely (originally) Greek “Dorian” lineage, rather than the other (increasingly speculative) alternatives.
In any case, it was obvious to anyone – that is, to anyone with a minimum knowledge of how population genomics works – that just the two samples from van den Brink (2017) couldn’t be used to get to any conclusions about the ancestral origin of these individuals (or their differences) beyond Levantine peoples, because their ancestry was essentially (i.e. statistically) the same as the other few available ancient samples from nearby regions and similar periods.
If anything, the PCA suggested an origin of the R1b sample closer to Aegean populations relative to the J individual (see PCA above), and this should have been supported also by amateur models, without any possible confirmation (as with the ASH_IA2 cluster in this paper). However, if you have followed online discussions of Tel Shadud R1b-M269 sample since it was mentioned first on Eupedia months ago – including another wave of misguided speculation based on the ancestry of both individuals triggered by a discussion on this blog -, you have once more proof of how misleading ancestry analyses can be in the wrong hands.
NOTE. This is the Nth proof (and that only in 2019) of how it’s best to just avoid amateur analyses and interpretations altogether, as I did in the recent publication of the books. All those who didn’t take into account whatever was commented about the ancestry of these samples haven’t lost a single bit of relevant information on Levantine peoples, and have had more time for useful reads, compared to those dedicated to endless void speculation, once again gone awfully wrong, as does everything related to cocky ancient DNA crackpottery 😉
Admittedly, though, even accepting the evident Mediterranean origin of this lineage, one could have argued that this sample may have been of R1b-L151 subclade, if one were inclined to support the theory that Italic peoples were behind Sea Peoples expanding east – and consequently that the ancestors of Etruscans had migrated eastward into the Aegean (e.g. into Lemnos), so that it could be asserted that Tyrsenian might have been a remnant language of an ancient population of northern Italy.
Fortunately, some of the samples recovered in Feldman et al. (2019) that could be analyzed (those of the cluster ASH_IA1) offer a very specific time frame where European ancestry appeared (ca. 1250 BC) before it subsequently became fully diluted (as seen in cluster ASH_IA2) among the prevalent Levantine ancestry of the area.
Also fortunately, this precise cluster shows another R1b-M269 sample, likely R1b-Z2103 (because it is probably xL151), and this sample together with others from the same cluster prove that the ancestry related to the original southern European incomers was:
Recent, related thus to LBA population movements, as expected; and
More closely related to coeval Aegeans, including Mycenaeans with Steppe-related ancestry.
NOTE. I say “fortunately” because, as you can imagine if you have dealt with amateurish discussions long enough, without this cluster with evident Aegean ancestry and the R1b-M269 (Z2103) sample precisely associated to it, some would enter again in endless comment loops created by ancestry magicians, showing how Aegean peoples were not behind Sea Peoples, or not behind Philistines, or not behind the R1b-M269 among Philistines, depending on their specific agendas.
The results of the paper don’t solve the question of the exact origin of all Sea Peoples (not even that of Philistines), but it is quite clear that most of those forming this seafaring confederation must have come from sites around the Aegean Sea. This supports thus the traditional origin attributed to them, including a hint at the likely expansion of Eastern Mediterranean ancestry and lineages into the Italian Peninsula precisely from the Aegean, as some oral communications have already disclosed.
As an indirect conclusion from the findings in this paper, then, we can now more confidently support that Tyrsenian speakers most likely expanded into the Appenines and the Alps originally from a Tyrsenian-speaking LBA population from Lemnos, due to the social unrest in the whole Aegean region, and might have become heavily admixed with local Italic peoples quite quickly, as it happened with Philistines, resulting in yet another case of language expansion through (the simplistically called) elite domination.
Even more interesting than these specific findings, this paper confirms yet another hypothesis based on phylogeography, and proves once again two important starting points for ancient DNA interpretation that I have discussed extensively in this blog:
The rare R1b-M269 Y-chromosome lineage of Tel Shadud offered ipso facto the most relevant clue about the ancestral geographical origin of this Canaanite elite male’s paternal family, most likely from the north-west based on ancient phylogeography, which indirectly – in combination with linguistics and archaeology – supported the ancestral ethnolinguistic identification of Philistines with the Aegean and thus with (a population closest to) Ancient Greeks.
Ancestry analyses are often fully unreliable when assessing population movements, especially when few samples from incomplete temporal-geographical transects are assessed in isolation, because – unlike paternal (and maternal) haplogroups – ancestry might change fully within a few generations, depending on the particular anthropological setting. Their investigation is thus bound by many limitations – of design, statistical, and anthropological (i.e. archaeological and linguistic) – which are quite often not taken into account.
The earliest archaeological evidence of horse milking, harnessing, and corralling is found in the ∼5,500-year-old Botai culture of Central Asian steppes (Gaunitz et al., 2018, Outram et al., 2009; see Kosintsev and Kuznetsov, 2013 for discussion). Botai-like horses are, however, not the direct ancestors of modern domesticates but of Przewalski’s horses (Gaunitz et al., 2018). The genetic origin of modern domesticates thus remains contentious, with suggested candidates in the Pontic-Caspian steppes (Anthony, 2007), Anatolia (Arbuckle, 2012, Benecke, 2006), and Iberia (Uerpmann, 1990, Warmuth et al., 2011). Irrespective of the origins of domestication, the horse genome is known to have been reshaped significantly within the last ∼2,300 years (Librado et al., 2017, Wallner et al., 2017, Wutke et al., 2018). However, when and in which context(s) such changes occurred remains largely unknown.
To clarify the origins of domestic horses and reveal their subsequent transformation by past equestrian civilizations, we generated DNA data from 278 equine subfossils with ages mostly spanning the last six millennia (n = 265, 95%) (Figures 1A and 1B; Table S1; STAR Methods). Endogenous DNA content was compatible with economical sequencing of 87 new horse genomes to an average depth-of-coverage of 1.0- to 9.3-fold (median = 3.3-fold; Table S2). This more than doubles the number of ancient horse genomes hitherto characterized. With a total of 129 ancient genomes, 30 modern genomes, and new genome-scale data from 132 ancient individuals (0.01- to 0.9-fold, median = 0.08-fold), our dataset represents the largest genome-scale time series published for a non-human organism (Tables S2, S3, and S4; STAR Methods).
Discovering Two Divergent and Extinct Lineages of Horses
Domestic and Przewalski’s horses are the only two extant horse lineages (Der Sarkissian et al., 2015). Another lineage was genetically identified from three bones dated to ∼43,000–5,000 years ago (Librado et al., 2015, Schubert et al., 2014a). It showed morphological affinities to an extinct horse species described as Equus lenensis (Boeskorov et al., 2018). We now find that this extinct lineage also extended to Southern Siberia, following the principal component analysis (PCA), phylogenetic, and f3-outgroup clustering of an ∼24,000-year-old specimen from the Tuva Republic within this group (Figures 3, 5A and S7A). This new specimen (MerzlyYar_Rus45_23789) carries an extremely divergent mtDNA only found in the New Siberian Islands some ∼33,200 years ago (Orlando et al., 2013) (Figure 6A; STAR Methods) and absent from the three bones previously sequenced. This suggests that a divergent ghost lineage of horses contributed to the genetic ancestry of MerzlyYar_Rus45_23789. However, both the timing and location of the genetic contact between E. lenensis and this ghost lineage remain unknown.
Modeling Demography and Admixture of Extinct and Extant Horse Lineages
Phylogenetic reconstructions without gene flow indicated that IBE differentiated prior to the divergence between DOM2 and Przewalski’s horses (Figure 3; STAR Methods). However, allowing for one migration edge in TreeMix suggested closer affinities with one single Hungarian DOM2 specimen from the 3rd mill. BCE (Dunaujvaros_Duk2_4077), with extensive genetic contribution (38.6%) from the branch ancestral to all horses (Figure S7B).This, and the extremely divergent IBE Y chromosome (Figure 6B), suggest that a divergent but yet unidentified ghost population could have contributed to the IBE genetic makeup.
Rejecting Iberian Contribution to Modern Domesticates
The genome sequences of four ∼4,800- to 3,900-year-old IBE specimens characterized here allowed us to clarify ongoing debates about the possible contribution of Iberia to horse domestication (Benecke, 2006, Uerpmann, 1990, Warmuth et al., 2011). Calculating the so-called fG ratio (Martin et al., 2015) provided a minimal boundary for the IBE contribution to DOM2 members (Cahill et al., 2013) (Figure 7A). The maximum of such estimate was found in the Hungarian Dunaujvaros_Duk2_4077 specimen (∼11.7%–12.2%), consistent with its TreeMix clustering with IBE when allowing for one migration edge (Figure S7B). This specimen was previously suggested to share ancestry with a yet-unidentified population (Gaunitz et al., 2018). Calculation of f4-statistics indicates that this population is not related to E. lenensis but to IBE (Figure 7B; STAR Methods). Therefore, IBE or horses closely related to IBE, contributed ancestry to animals found at an Early Bronze Age trade center in Hungary from the late 3rd mill. BCE. This could indicate that there was long-distance exchange of horses during the Bell Beaker phenomenon (Olalde et al., 2018). The fG minimal boundary for the IBE contribution into an Iron Age Spanish horse (ElsVilars_UE4618_2672) was still important (~9.6%–10.1%), suggesting that an IBE genetic influence persisted in Iberia until at least the 7th century BCE in a domestic context. However, fG estimates were more limited for almost all ancient and modern horses investigated (median = ~4.9%–5.4%; Figure 7A).
Iron Age horses
Y chromosome nucleotide diversity (π) decreased steadily in both continents during the last ∼2,000 years but dropped to present-day levels only after 850–1,350 CE (Figures 2B and S2E; STAR Methods). This is consistent with the dominance of an ∼1,000- to 700-year-old oriental haplogroup in most modern studs (Felkel et al., 2018, Wallner et al., 2017). Our data also indicate that the growing influence of specific stallion lines post-Renaissance (Wallner et al., 2017) was responsible for as much as a 3.8- to 10.0-fold drop in Y chromosome diversity.
We then calculated Y chromosome π estimates within past cultures represented by a minimum of three males to clarify the historical contexts that most impacted Y chromosome diversity. This confirmed the temporal trajectory observed above as Byzantine horses (287–861 CE) and horses from the Great Mongolian Empire (1,206–1,368 CE) showed limited yet larger-than-modern diversity. Bronze Age Deer Stone horses from Mongolia, medieval Aukštaičiai horses from Lithuania (C9th–C10th [ninth through the tenth centuries of the Common Era]), and Iron Age Pazyryk Scythian horses showed similar diversity levels (0.000256–0.000267) (Figure 2A). However, diversity was larger in La Tène, Roman, and Gallo-Roman horses, where Y-to-autosomal π ratios were close to 0.25. This contrasts to modern horses, where marked selection of specific patrilines drives Y-to-autosomal π ratios substantially below 0.25 (0.0193–0.0396) (Figure 2A). The close-to-0.25 Y-to-autosomal π ratios found in La Tène, Roman, and Gallo-Roman horses suggest breeding strategies involving an even reproductive success among stallions or equally biased reproductive success in both sexes (Wilson Sayres et al., 2014).
Lineage is used in this paper, as in many others in genetics, as defined by a specific ancestry. I keep that nomenclature below. It should not be confused with the “lineages” or “lines” referring to Y-chromosome (or mtDNA) haplogroups.
Supporting the “archaic” nature of the Hungarian BBC horses expanding from the Pontic-Caspian steppes are:
Among Y-chromosome lines, the common group formed by Botai-Borly4 (closely related to DOM2), Scythian horses from Aldy Bel (Arzhani), Iron Age horses from Estonia (Ridala), horses from the Xiongnu culture (Uushgiin Uvur), and Roman horses from Autricum (Chartres).
Among mtDNA lines, the common group formed by Botai samples, LebyazhinkaIV NB35, and different Eurasian domesticates, including many ancient Western European ones, which reveals a likely expansion of certain subclades east and west with the Repin culture.
(…) DOM2 contributed 22% to the ancestor of Przewalski’s horses ca. 9.47 kya, suggesting the Holocene optimum, rather than the Eneolithic Botai culture (∼5.5 kya), as a period of population contact. This pre-Botai introgression could explain the Y chromosome topology, where Botai horses were reported to carry two different segregating haplogroups: one occupied a basal position in the phylogeny while the other was closely related to DOM2. Multiple admixture pulses, however, are known to have occurred along the divergence of DOM2 and the Botai-Borly4 lineage, including 2.3% post-Borly4 contribution to DOM2, and a more recent 6.8% DOM2 intogression into Przewalski’s horses (Gaunitz et al., 2018). Model C2 parameters accommodate all these as a single admixture pulse, likely averaging the contributions of all these multiple events.
The paper cannot offer a detailed picture of ancient horse domestication, but it is yet another step in showing how Repin/Yamna is the most likely source of expansion of horse domesticates in Eurasia. Even more interestingly, Yamna settlers in Hungary probably expanded an ancient lineage of that horse at the same time as they spread with the Classical Bell Beaker culture. Remarkable parallels are thus found between:
The expansion of an ancient line of horse domesticates related to Yamna Hungary/East Bell Beakers seems to be confirmed by the pre-Iberian sample from Vilars I, Els Vilars4618 2672 (ca. 700-550 BC), likely of Iberian Beaker descent, showing a lineage older than the Indo-Iranian ones, which later replaced most European lines.
NOTE. For known contacts between Yamna and Proto-Beakers just before the expansion of East Bell Beakers, see a recent post on Vanguard Yamna groups.
The findings of the paper confirm the expansion of the horse firstly (and mainly) through the steppe biome, mimicking the expansion of Proto-Indo-Europeans first, and then replaced gradually (or not so gradually) by lines brought to Europe during westward expansions of Bronze Age, Iron Age, and later specialized horse-riding steppe cultures. The expansion also correlates well with the known spread of animal traction and pastoralism before 2000 BC:
Yamna expansion to the west “with horses and wagons”, with a more homogeneous ancestry in modern Europeans due to later migrations from the east (and north):
DR: inference is that two major migrations: farmers from Anatolia, followed by steppe pastoralists. Who are they? They took horses and wagons and spread. See rapid 90% pop turn over in Britain. Similar timing in Iberia, but a bit less turnover, and more period of overlap
After 568 AD the Avars settled in the Carpathian Basin and founded the Avar Qaganate that was an important power in Central Europe until the 9th century. Part of the Avar society was probably of Asian origin, however the localisation of their homeland is hampered by the scarcity of historical and archaeological data.
Here, we study mitogenome and Y chromosomal STR variability of twenty-six individuals, a number of them representing a well-characterised elite group buried at the centre of the Carpathian Basin more than a century after the Avar conquest.
The Y-STR analyses of 17 males give evidence on a surprisingly homogeneous Y chromosomal composition. Y chromosomal STR profiles of 14 males could be assigned to haplogroup N-Tat (also N1a1-M46). N-Tat haplotype I was found in four males from Kunpeszér with identical alleles on at least nine loci. The full Y-STR haplotype I, reconstructed from AC17 with 17 detected STRs, is rare in our days. Only nine matches were found among haplotypes in YHRD database, such as samples from the Ural Region, Northern Europe (Estonia, Finland), and Western Alaska (Yupiks). We performed Median Joining (MJ) network analysis using N-Tat haplotypes with ten shared STR loci (Fig. 3, Table S9). All modern N-Tat samples included in the network had derived allele of L708 as well. Haplotype I (Cluster 1 in Fig. 3) is shared by eight populations on the MJ network among the 24 identical haplotypes. Cluster 1 represents the founding lineage, as it is described in Siberian populations, because this haplotype is shared by the most populations and it is more diverse than Cluster 2.
Nine males share N-Tat haplotype II (on a minimum of eight detected alleles), all of them buried in the Danube-Tisza Interfluve. We found 30 direct matches of this N-Tat haplotype II in the YHRD database, using the complete 17 STR Y-filer profile of AC1, AC12, AC14, AC15, AC19 samples. Most hits came from Mongolia (seven Buryats and one Khalkh) and from Russia (six Yakuts), but identical haplotypes also occur in China (five in Xinjiang and four in Inner Mongolia provinces). On the MJ network, this haplotype II is represented by Cluster 2 and is composed of 45 samples (including 32 Buryats) from six populations (Fig. 3).
A third N-Tat lineage (type III) was represented only once in the Avar dataset (AC8), and has no direct modern parallels from the YHRD database. This haplotype on the MJ network (see red arrow in Fig. 3) seems to be a descendent from other haplotype cluster that is shared by three populations (two Buryat from Mongolia, three Khanty and one Northern Mansi samples). This haplotype cluster also differs one molecular step (locus DYS393) from haplotype II. We classified the Avar samples to downstream subgroup N-F4205 within the N-Tat haplogroup, based on the results of ours and Ilumäe et al.18 and constructed a second network (Fig. S4). The N-F4205 network results support the assumption that the N-Tat Avar samples belong to N-F4205 subgroup (see SI chapter 1d for more details).
Based on our calculation, the age of accumulated STR variance (TMRCA) within N-Tat lineage for all samples is 7.0 kya (95% CI: 4.9 – 9.2 kya), considering the core haplotype (Cluster 1) to be the founding lineage. Y haplogroup N-Tat was not detected by large scale Eurasian ancient DNA studies but it occurs in late Bronze Age Inner Mongolia and late medieval Yakuts, among them N-Tat has still the highest frequency.
Two males (AC4 and AC7) from the Transtisza group belong to two different haplotypes of Y-haplogroup Q1. Both Q1a-F1096 and Q1b-M346 haplotypes have neither direct nor one step neighbour matches in the worldwide YHRD database. A network of the Q1b-M346 haplotype shows that this male had a probable Altaian or South Siberian paternal genetic origin.
EDIT (5 APR 2019): The paper offers an interesting late sample before the arrival of Hungarian conquerors, although we don’t know which precise lineage the sample belongs to:
One sample in our dataset (HC9) comes from this population, and both his mtDNA (T1a1b) and Y chromosome (R1a) support Eastern European connections. (…) Furthermore, we excluded sample HC9 from population-genetic statistical analyses because it belongs to a later period (end of 7th – early 9th centuries)
Apparently, then, results are consistent with what was already known from studies of modern populations:
According to Ilumäe et al. study, the frequency peak of N-F4205 (N3a5-F4205) chromosomes is close to the Transbaikal region of Southern Siberia and Mongolia, and we conclude that most Avar N-Tat chromosomes probably originated from a common source population of people living in this area, completely in line with the results of Ilumäe et al.
The most frequent haplogroups of the Bashkirian Maris were N1b-P43 (42%), R1a-Z280 (16%), R1a-Z93 (16%), N1c-Tat (13%), and J2-M172 (7%). Furthermore, subgroup R1b-M343 accounted for 4% and I2a-P37 covered 2% of the lineages. None of the Mari N1c Y chromosomes belonged to the N1c subgroups investigated (L1034, VL29, Z1936).
In the case of the Southern Mansi males, the most frequent haplogroups were N1b-P43 (33%), N1c-L1034 (28%) and R1a-Z280 (19%). The frequencies of the remaining haplogroups were as follows: R1a-M458 (6%), I1-L22 (3%), I2a-P37 (3%), and R1b-P312 (3%). The haplotype and haplogroup diversities of the Bashkirian Mari group were 0.9929 and 0.7657, whereas these values for the Southern Mansi were 0.9984 and 0.7873, respectively. The results show that, in both populations, haplotypes are much more diverse than haplogroups.
(..) the studied Bashkirian Mari and Southern Mansi population groups formed a compact cluster along with two Khanty, Northern Mansi, Mari, and Estonian populations based on close Fst-genetic distances (< 0.05), with nonsignificant p values (p > 0.05) except for the Estonian population. All of these populations belong to the Finno-Ugric language family. Interestingly, the other Mansi population studied by Pimenoff et al. (2008) (pop # 38) was located a great distance from the Southern Mansi group (0.268). In addition, the Bashkir population (pop # 6) did not show a close genetic affinity to the Bashkirian Mari group (0.194), even though it is the host population. However, the Russian population from the Eastern European region of Russia (pop # 49) showed a genetic distance of 0.055 with the Southern Mansi group. All Hungarian speaking populations (pops 13, 22, 23, 24, 50, and 51) showed close genetic affinities to each other and to the neighbouring populations, but not to the two studied populations.
Median-joining networks were constructed for:
N-P43 (earlier N1b):
(…) TMRCA estimates for this haplogroup were made for all P43 samples (n = 157) 8.7 kya (95% CI 6.7–10.8 kya), for the N-P43 Asian.
(…) 75% of Buryats belonged to Haplotype 2, indicating that the Buryats studied by us is a young and isolated population (Bíró et al. 2015). Bashkirian Mari samples derive from Haplotype 2 via Haplotype 3 (see dark purple circles on the top of Fig. 6a). Haplotype 3 contained six males (2 Buryat, 1 Northern Mansi, and 3 Khanty samples from Pimenoff et al. 2008). The biggest Bashkirian Mari haplotype node (3 Mari samples) was positioned three mutational steps away from Haplotype 1 and the remaining Mari samples can be derived from this haplotype. Southern Mansi haplotypes were scattered within the network except for two, which formed a smaller haplotype node with two Northern Mansi and two Khanty samples from Pimenoff et al. (2008).
R1a-Z280 haplotypes, shared by Maris, Mansis, and Hungarians, hence ancient Finno-Ugrians:
The founder R1a-Z280 haplotype was shared by four samples from four populations (1 Bashkirian Mari; 1 Southern Mansi; 1 Hungarian speaking Székely; and 1 Hungarian), as presented in Fig. 7 (Haplotype 1). Haplotype 2 included five males (3 Bashkirian Mari and 2 Hungarian), as it can be seen in Fig. 7. Haplotype 4 included two shared haplotypes (1 Bashkirian Mari and one Hungarian speaking Csángó). The remaining two Bashkirian Mari haplotypes differ from the founder haplotype (Haplotype 1) by two mutational steps via Hungarian or Hungarian and Bashkirian Mari shared haplotypes. Beside Haplotype 1, the remaining Southern Mansi haplotypes were shared with Hungarians (Haplotype 5 or turquoise blue and red-coloured circles above Haplotype 7) or with Hungarians and Hungarian speaking Székely group (Haplotypes 3, 5, and 6). Haplotype 7 included ten Hungarian speakers (Hungarian, Székely, and Csángó). One Hungarian and one Uzbek Khwarezm shared haplotype can be found in Fig. 7 as well (red and white-coloured circle). All the other haplotypes were scattered in the network. The age of accumulated STR variation within R1a-Z280 lineage for 93 samples is estimated to be 9.4 kya (95% CI 6.5–12.4 kya) considering Haplotype 1 (Fig. 7) to be the founder.
R1a-Z93 as isolated lineages among Permic and Ugric populations:
Figure 8 depicts an MJ network of R1a-Z93* samples using 106 haplotypes from the 14 populations (Fig. 8). All of the Bashkirian Mari samples (7 haplotypes) formed a very isolated branch and differed from the one Hungarian haplotype (Fig. 8, see Haplotype 1) by seven mutational steps as well from two Uzbek Tashkent samples (see Haplotype 3). Another Hungarian sample shared two haplotypes of Uzbek Khwarezm samples in Haplotype 4. This haplotype can be derived from Haplotype 3 (Uzbek Tashkent). Haplotype 2 included one Hungarian and one Khakassian male. The remaining three Hungarian haplotypes are outliers in the network and are not shared by any sample. The other population samples included in the network either form independent clusters such as Altaians, Khakassians, Khanties, and Uzbek Madjars or were scattered in the network. The age of accumulated STR variation (TMRCA) within R1a-Z93* lineage for 106 samples is estimated as 11.6 kya (95% CI 9.3–14.0 kya) considering an Armenian haplotype (Fig. 8, “A”) to be the founder and the median haplotype.
The results of modern populations for N (especially N1c) subclades show really wide clusters and ancient TMRCA, consistent with their known ancient and wide distribution in northern and eastern Eurasian groups, and thus with infiltration of different lineages with eastern nomads (and northern Arctic populations) coupled with later bottlenecks, as well as acculturation of groups.
EDIT (2 APR): Interesting is the specific subclade to which ancient Mongolic-speaking Avars belong (information from Yfull) N1c-F4205 (TMRCA ca. 500 BC), subclade of N1c-Y6058 (formed ca. 2800 BC, TMRCA ca. 2800 BC). This branch also gives the “European” branch N1c-CTS10760 (formed ca. 2800 BC, TMRCA ca. 2100 BC), and is subclade of a branch of N1c-L392 (formed ca. 4400 BC, TMRCA ca. 2800 BC). A northern expansion of N1c-L392 is probably represented by its branch N1c-Z1936 (formed ca. 2800, TMRCA ca. 2100 BC), the most likely candidate to appear in the Kola Peninsula in the Bronze Age as the Palaeo-Laplandic population (see here). Read more about potential routes of expansion of haplogroup N.
On the other hand, R1a-Z280 lineages form a tight cluster connecting Permic with Ugric groups, with R1a-Z93 showing early isolation (probably) between Cis-Urals and Trans-Urals regions. While both Corded Ware lineages in Finno-Ugrians are most likely related to the Abashevo expansion through Seima-Turbino and the Andronovo-like Horizon (and potentially later Eurasian expansions), a plausible hypothesis would be that Finno-Ugrians are related to an expansion of R1a-Z283 haplogroups (we already knew about the Finno-Permic connection), while the ancient connection between Permians and Hungarians with R1a-Z93 would correspond to this haplogroup’s potentially tighter link with an early Samoyedic split.
I don’t think that an explosive expansion of eastern Corded Ware groups of R1a-Z645 lineages will show a clear-cut division of haplogroups among Eastern Uralic groups, though, and culturally I doubt we will have such a clear image, either (similar to how the explosive expansion of Bell Beakers cannot be easily divided by regional/language group into R1b-L151 subclades before the known bottlenecks). Relevant in this regard are the known Z93 samples from the Árpád dynasty.
Such a “Z283 over Z93” layer in the Trans-Urals (and Cis-Urals?) forest-steppes would be similar to the apparent replacement of Z284 by Z282 in the Eastern Baltic during the Bronze Age (possibly with the second or Estonian Battle Axe wave or, much more likely during later population movements). Such an early R1a-Z93 split could potentially be supported also by the separation into bottlenecks under “Northern” (R1a-Z283) Finno-Ugric-speaking Abashevo-related groups and “Southern” (R1a-Z93) acculturated Indo-Iranian-speaking Abashevo migrants developing Sintashta-Potapovka admixing with Poltavka R1b-Z2103 herders.
Let’s review some of the most common myths about Hungarians (and Finno-Ugrians in general) repeated ad nauseam, side by side with my assertions:
❌ N (especially N1c-Tat) in ancient and modern samples represent the True Uralic™ N1c peoples including Magyar tribes? Nope.
❌ Modern Hungarian R1a-Z280 lineages represent the majority of the native population, poor Slavic ‘peasants’ from the Carpathian Basin, forcibly acculturated by a minority of bad bad Hungarian hordes? Nope.
Sooo, the theory of a “diluted” Y-DNA in Modern Hungarians from originally fully N-dominated conquerors subjugating native R1a-Z280 Slavs from the Carpathian Basin is not backed up by genetic studies? The ethnic Iranian-Turkic R1a-Z93 federation in the steppes that ended up speaking Magyar is not real?? Who would’ve thunk.
Totally unexpected, too, the drift of “R1a=IE” fans with the newest genetic findings towards a Molgen-like “Yamna/R1b = Vasconic-Caucasian”, “N1c = Uralic-Altaic”, and “R1a = the origin of the white world in Mother Russia”. So much for the supposed interest in “Steppe ancestry” and fancy statistics.
Interesting excerpts (emphasis in bold; modified for clarity):
Balearic Islands: The expansion of Iberian speakers
Mallorca_EBA dates to the earliest period of permanent occupation of the islands at around 2400 BCE. We parsimoniously modeled Mallorca_EBA as deriving 36.9 ± 4.2% of her ancestry from a source related to Yamnaya_Samara; (…). We next used qpAdm to identify “proximal” sources for Mallorca_EBA’s ancestry that are more closely related to this individual in space and time, and found that she can be modeled as a clade with the (small) subset of Iberian Bell Beaker culture associated individuals who carried Steppe-derived ancestry (p=0.442).
Suppl. Materials: The model used was with Bell_Beaker_Iberia_highsteppe, a group of outliers from Iberia buried in a Bell Beaker mortuary context who unlike most individuals from this context in that region had high proportions of Steppe ancestry (p=0.442).
Our estimates of Steppe ancestry in the two later Balearic Islands individuals are lower than the earlier one: 26.3 ± 5.1% for Formentera_MBA and 23.1 ± 3.6% for Menorca_LBA, but the Middle to Late Bronze Age Balearic individuals are not a clade relative to non-Balearic groups. Specifically, we find that f4(Mbuti.DG, X; Formentera_MBA, Menorca_LBA) is positive when X=Iberia_Chalcolithic (Z=2.6) or X=Sardinia_Nuragic_BA (Z=2.7). While it is tempting to interpret the latter statistic as suggesting a genetic link between peoples of the Talaiotic culture of the Balearic islands and the Nuragic culture of Sardinia, the attraction to Iberia_Chalcolithic is just as strong, and the mitochondrial haplogroup U5b1+16189+@16192 in Menorca_LBA is not observed in Sardinia_Nuragic_BA but is observed in multiple Iberia_Chalcolithic individuals. A possible explanation is that both the ancestors of Nuragic Sardinians and the ancestors of Talaiotic people from the Balearic Islands received gene flow from an unsampled Iberian Chalcolithic-related group (perhaps a mainland group affiliated to both) that did not contribute to Formentera_MBA.
This sample, like another one in El Argar, is of hg. R1b-P312. So there you are, the data that connects the Proto-Iberian expansion (replacing IE-speaking Bell Beakers) to the Iberian Chalcolithic population, signaled by the increase in Iberian Chalcolithic ancestry after the arrival of Bell Beakers, most likely connected originally to the Argaric and post-Argaric expansions during the MBA.
Steppe in Sardinia IA: Phocaeans from Italy?
Most Sardinians buried in a Nuragic Bronze Age context possessed uniparental haplogroups found in European hunter-gatherers and early farmers, including Y-haplogroup R1b1a[xR1b1a1a] which is different from the characteristic R1b1a1a2a1a2 spread in association with the Bell Beaker complex. An exception is individual I10553 (1226-1056 calBCE) who carried Y-haplogroup J2b2a, previously observed in a Croatian Middle Bronze Age individual bearing Steppe ancestry, suggesting the possibility of genetic input from groups that arrived from the east after the spread of first farmers. This is consistent with the evidence of material culture exchange between Sardinians and mainland Mediterranean groups, although genome-wide analyses find no significant evidence of Steppe ancestry so the quantitative demographic impact was minimal.
Another interesting data, these (Mesolithic) remnant R1b-V88 lineages closely related to the Italian Peninsula, the most likely region of expansion of these lineages into Africa, in turn possibly connected to the expansion of Proto-Afroasiatic.
We detect definitive evidence of Iranian-related ancestry in an Iron Age Sardinian I10366 (391-209 calBCE) with an estimate of 11.9 ± 3.7.% Iran_Ganj_Dareh_Neolithic related ancestry, while rejecting the model with only Anatolian_Neolithic and WHG at p=0.0066 (Supplementary Table 9). The only model that we can fit for this individual using a pair of populations that are closer in time is as a mixture of Iberia_Chalcolithic (11.9 ± 3.2%) and Mycenaean (88.1 ± 3.2%) (p=0.067). This model fits even when including Nuragic Sardinians in the outgroups of the qpAdm analysis, which is consistent with the hypothesis that this individual had little if any ancestry from earlier Sardinians.
Sicily EBA: The Lusitanian/Ligurian connection?
(…) While a previously reported Bell Beaker culture-associated individual from Sicily had no evidence of Steppe ancestry, (…) we find evidence of Steppe ancestry in the Early Bronze Age by ~2200 BCE. In distal qpAdm, the outlier Sicily_EBA11443 is parsimoniously modeled as harboring 40.2 ± 3.5% Steppe ancestry, and the outlier Sicily_EBA8561 is parsimoniously modeled as harboring 23.3 ± 3.5% Steppe ancestry. (…) The presence of Steppe ancestry in Early Bronze Age Sicily is also evident in Y chromosome analysis, which reveals that 4 of the 5 Early Bronze Age males had Steppe-associated Y-haplogroup R1b1a1a2a1a2. (Online Table 1). Two of these were Y-haplogroup R1b1a1a2a1a2a1 (Z195) which today is largely restricted to Iberia and has been hypothesized to have originated there 2500-2000 BCE. This evidence of west-to-east gene flow from Iberia is also suggested by qpAdm modeling where the only parsimonious proximate source for the Steppe ancestry we found in the main Sicily_EBA cluster is Iberians.
What’s this? An ancestral connection between SicelElymian and Galaico-Lusitanian or Ligurian (based on an origin in NE Iberia)? Impossible to say, especially if the languages of these early settlers were replaced later by non-Indo-European speakers from the eastern Mediterranean, and by Indo-European speakers from the mainland closely related to Proto-Italic during the LBA, but see below.
Regarding the comment on R1b-Z195, it is associated with modern Iberians, as DF27 in general, due to founder effects beyond the Pyrenees. It is a very old subclade, split directly from DF27 roughly at the same time as it split from the parent P312, i.e. it can be found anywhere in Europe, and it almost certainly accompanied the expansion of Celts from Central Europe under the subclade R1b-M167/SRY2627.
The connection is thus strong only because of the qpAdm modeling, since R1b-DF27 and subclade R1b-Z195 are certainly lineages expanded quite early, most likely with Yamna settlers in Hungary and East Bell Beakers.
We detect Iranian-related ancestry in Sicily by the Middle Bronze Age 1800-1500 BCE, consistent with the directional shift of these individuals toward Mycenaeans in PCA. Specifically, two of the Middle Bronze Age individuals can only be fit with models that in addition to Anatolia_Neolithic and WHG, include Iran_Ganj_Dareh_Neolithic. The most parsimonious model for Sicily_MBA3125 has 18.0 ± 3.6% Iranian-related ancestry (p=0.032 for rejecting the alternative model of Steppe rather than Iranian-related ancestry), and the most parsimonious model for Sicily_MBA has 14.9 ± 3.9% Iranian-related ancestry (p=0.037 for rejecting the alternative model).
The modern southern Italian Caucasus-related signal identified in Raveane et al. (2018) is plausibly related to the same Iranian-related spread of ancestry into Sicily that we observe in the Middle Bronze Age (and possibly the Early Bronze Age).
The non-Indo-European Sicanians and Elymians were possibly then connected to eastern Mediterranean groups before the expansion of the Sea Peoples.
For the Late Bronze Age group of individuals, qpAdm documented Steppe-related ancestry, modeling this group as 80.2 ± 1.8% Anatolia_Neolithic, 5.3 ± 1.6% WHG, and 14.5 ± 2.2% Yamnaya_Samara. Our modeling using sources more closely related in space and time also supports Sicily_LBA having Minoan-related ancestry or being derived from local preceding populations or individuals with ancestries similar to those of Sicily_EBA3123 (p=0.527), Sicily_MBA3124 (p=0.352), and Sicily_MBA3125 (p=0.095).
This increase in Steppe-related ancestry in a western site during the LBA most likely represents either an expansion from the Aegean or – maybe more likely, given the archaeological finds – a regional population similar to Sicily EBA re-emerging or rather being displaced from the eastern part of the island because of a westward movement from nearby Calabria.
Whether this population sampled spoke Indo-European or not at this time is questionable, since the Iron Age accounts show non-IE Elymians in this region.
Actually, Elymians seem to have spoken Indo-European, which fits well with the increase in steppe ancestry.
EDIT (21 MAR): Interesting about a proposed incoming Minoan-like ancestry is the potential origin of the Iran Neolithic-related ancestry that is going to appear in Central Italy during the LBA. This could then be potentially associated with Tyrsenians passing through the area, although the traditional description may be more more compatible with an arrival of Sea Peoples from the Adriatic.
Sad to read this:
This manuscript is dedicated to the memory of Sebastiano Tusa of the Soprintendenza del Mare in Palermo, who would have been an author of this study had he not tragically died in the crash of Ethiopia Airlines flight 302 on March 10.