Samoyedic shows Yeniseic substrate; both influenced Tocharian


Open access paper The deviant typological profile of the Tocharian branch of Indo-European may be due to Uralic substrate influence by Peyrot, Indo-European Linguistics (2019).

NOTE. This seems to be part of the master’s thesis by Abel Warries, but the paper is authored only by Peyrot.

Interesting excerpts (emphasis mine):

1. The stop system

The loss in Tocharian of the Proto-Indo-European obstruent distinctions conventionally noted as voice and aspiration is a very strong indication of foreign influence. Since Proto-Indo-European roots mostly have at least one stop, and often two, the merger of all three stop series into one must have led to massive homonymy and subsequently to heavy restructuring of the lexicon. It is difficult to see how these changes could be motivated language-internally.


It is this innovative typological feature of Tocharian that is the strongest indication of Uralic influence (cf. e.g. Bednarczuk 2015:56). A single stop series as found in Tocharian is reconstructed for Proto-Uralic as well as for Proto-Samoyedic, while other possibly relevant languages all show a system with a contrast between voiced and unvoiced stops, i.e. Proto-Yeniseian, Old Iranian and Yukaghir, or, in Proto-Turkic, a contrast between strong and weak obstruents (see also below).

For Proto-Uralic, Janhunen (1982:23) reconstructs the following obstruents: *k, *c, *t, *p; *δ, *δ´; and *ś, *s. With the development of *s to *t, *ś to *s, *δ to *r and *δ´ to *j, the Proto-Samoyedic obstruent system had become: *k, *c, *t, *p, *s (a secondary *ś arose later). The Tocharian obstruent system is much closer to both these reconstructed obstruent systems than to the Proto-Indo-European system that is commonly assumed.


Interestingly, from the perspective of a two-velar series reconstructed for the parent Late Proto-Indo-European, Tocharian shows thus a satemization trend and Uralic influence similar to (but qualitatively different than) the one seen in Balto-Slavic and Indo-Iranian, probably due to the less marked population replacement evidenced by the continuity of Afanasievo-related ancestry among Iron Age Common Tocharians.

2. The vowel system

(…) the development of the Tocharian vowel system can be understood very well in light of a South Siberian vowel system today represented by the Yeniseian language Ket. This South Siberian vowel system is different from both the Proto-Tocharian and the Proto-Uralic and Proto-Samoyedic vowel systems. However, a successful comparison is possible when intermediate phases are taken into account: a Pre-Proto-Tocharian phase between Proto-Indo-European and Proto-Tocharian; and a Pre-Proto-Samoyedic phase between Proto-Uralic and Proto-Samoyedic. For a Pre-Proto-Tocharian phase, a vowel system identical to that of Ket can be reconstructed. For Proto-Samoyedic, several different reconstructions of the vowel system have been proposed. Depending on which reconstruction turns out to be correct, a Pre-Proto-Samoyedic vowel system can be reconstructed that is close to the Ket system or perhaps even identical to it.

The basic vowel changes from Proto-Indo-European to Proto-Tocharian are the following (Ringe 1996; Hackstein 2017):


It is the seven-vowel system of Pre-Proto-Tocharian stage 5 above that is structurally identical to the South Siberian system represented by Ket. According to Vajda (2004:5), Ket ɨ and ə are further back than IPA central [ɨ] and [ə], but not as far back as the unrounded back vowels [ɯ] and [ɤ] of IPA. The allophonic variation in the mid vowels e, ə, o is correlated with tone: they are pronounced as high-mid [e, ə, o] with high-even tone, and as low-mid [ɛ, ʌ, ɔ] elsewhere (Vadja l.c.).

Obviously, this parallel with Ket can only be meaningful for Tocharian linguistic prehistory if the same vowel system can be reconstructed for earlier stages. Indeed, Vajda assumes an original Pre-Proto-Yeniseian five-vowel system with i, a, ʌ, o, u that was in Common Yeniseian enlarged with *e and *ɨ (2010:78–79).



Of the eleven vowels reconstructed for Proto-Samoyedic by Janhunen and Sammallahti, the following arose in the course of Pre-Proto-Samoyedic:

  • *ö is rare and was clearly added at a late stage;
  • *ü arose secondarily, amongst others from PU *i, while PU *ü changed to PSam. *i;
  • *ä arose secondarily, while PU *ä changed to PSam. *e;
  • *ə in first syllables, or back *ə̑ and front *ə̈, arose secondarily from *u and *i.

Since these four vowels arose secondarily, the following seven-vowel system can be assumed for a very early stage of Pre-Proto-Samoyedic. This system is structurally identical to the system of Ket and to that reconstructed for Pre-Proto-Tocharian:


The vowel system of Ket, which has also been reconstructed for Pre-Proto-Tocharian, and which may possibly be reconstructed for Pre-Proto-Samoyedic as well, has a further parallel in Siberia: it is very close to that reconstructed for Proto-Yukaghir by Nikolaeva (2006:57).

It is attractive to think that the imbalances of the Yukaghir vowel system and vowel harmony reflect the adaptation of an original system with front rounded *ü and *ö to a system very similar to that seen in Yeniseian, Pre-Proto-Samoyedic and Pre-Proto-Tocharian.

Location of contemporary speakers of Ket (shown in black) and of Yeniseian groups in
1600 as well as Yeniseian substrate river names (marked by labels such as -ses)

3. Agglutinative case marking and case functions

Although other Indo-European languages also occasionally show agglutinative case markers, one of the most striking typological characteristics of Tocharian are the agglutinative so-called “secondary” cases. It is obvious that for such a major shift in language type substrate influence must be considered as a serious option.

The key to identifying the model of the Tocharian case system is to be found in the functions of the cases. On the functional level, the Tocharian case system shows the following non-Indo-European peculiarities: it lacks a dative, whose functions are fulfilled by the genitive; and it has a local case termed “perlative” which denotes movement along, through or over something, as well as a comitative case denoting accompaniment.

Another interesting functional phenomenon is the lack of a dative in Tocharian. Here the best match is offered by Uralic, where nominative, accusative and genitive are generally analysed as being the “grammatical cases,” while the remaining cases are the “local cases.”

Tocharian, in spite of its comitative, agrees better with the Samoyedic case system than with the more elaborate sets of e.g. Finnish and Hungarian: there is no inessive : adessive or ablative : elative contrast. The Ket system, too, is more elaborate than the Tocharian set.

Evaluation and interpretation of the parallels

I consider the evidence from the stop system (§ 2.1), the vowel system (§ 2.2) and the agglutinative case system (§ 2.3) as the strongest indications of language contact. The Tocharian stop system with only voiceless stops is the best evidence for Uralic influence. The vowel system shows neat parallels with Yeniseian and Pre-Proto-Samoyedic. Taken together, this suggests that the Uralic variety with which Tocharian was in contact was a form of Pre-Proto-Samoyedic. Agglutinative case systems are widely found in Siberia and Eastern Central Asia, but the case functions, in particular the Tocharian perlative, best match Uralic and comparable systems in South Siberia.

The perlative is the strongest indication of Siberian, and most probably Uralic or Pre-Proto-Samoyedic influence. A similar local case is widely found across Uralic and in Samoyedic, and also in Yukaghir and Ket, but not in Turkic.




The author ends by trying to fit the relative chronology of a Samoyedic and Tocharian spread from the Cis-Urals with the ideas set forth (mainly) by the Copenhagen group, with which he has participated in the past interpreting their results from a linguistic perspective. Hence the difficulties in finding potentially fitting settings to the proposed contacts.

I think it is self-evident that the push of the Abashevo-related, Seima-Turbino-mediated Andronovo-like cultural horizon perfectly explains the expansion of Pre-Proto-Samoyedic into the previous Afanasievo territory, strongly influencing the Chemurchek and related populations that most likely represent the evolving Tocharian-speaking community.

My recent video of expansion of Indo-Europeans illustrates this linguistic evolution quite accurately (although, admittedly, I didn’t put much effort in the maps to follow Palaeosiberian languages).



The finding of Afanasievo-like population in Iron Age Tian Shan, including haplogroup replacement (among them hg. R1a-M417, proper of Disintegrating Uralians), as well as the finding of R1a-Z645 subclades up to the Deer Stone-Khirigsuur Complex in northern Mongolia, confirms this setting of a sudden expansion of (originally) Uralic-speaking populations through northern Eurasia up to Lake Baikal, disrupting the Afanasievo-like Tocharian-speaking community.

Similarly, the highly divergent genetic make-up of the Samoyedic population relative to other Uralic groups is consistent with the dilution of their typically Uralic Corded Ware ancestry among Siberian populations, on top of the multiple acculturation events of traditionally multilingual North Siberian populations (especially among Northern Samoyeds, similar to other Circum-Arctic groups).

This paper is not the first, and certainly not the last to confirm strong language contacts between Uralic and Indo-European dialects with the previous native speakers of Siberia, such as Palaeosiberians and Altaic peoples, causing the aberrant (but seemingly closely related) traits of Samoyedic and Tocharian, proper of European languages introduced into an area foreign to Indo-Uralic languages.


Corded Ware ancestry in North Eurasia and the Uralic expansion


Now that it has become evident that Late Repin (i.e. Yamnaya/Afanasevo) ancestry was associated with the migration of R1b-L23-rich Late Proto-Indo-Europeans from the steppe in the second half of the the 4th millennium BC, there’s still the question of how R1a-rich Uralic speakers of Corded Ware ancestry expanded , and how they spread their languages throughout North Eurasia.

Modern North Eurasians

I have been collecting information from the supplementary data of the latest papers on modern and ancient North Eurasian peoples, including Jeong et al. (2019), Saag et al. (2019), Sikora et al. (2018), or Flegontov et al. (2019), and I have tried to add up their information on ancestral components and their modern and historical distributions.

Fortunately, the current obsession with simplifying ancestry components into three or four general, atemporal groups, and the common use of the same ones across labs, make it very simple to merge data and map them.

Corded Ware ancestry

There is no doubt about the prevalent ancestry among Uralic-speaking peoples. A map isn’t needed to realize that, because ancient and modern data – like those recently summarized in Jeong et al. (2019) – prove it. But maps sure help visualize their intricate relationship better:

Natural neighbor interpolation of Srubnaya ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of Srubnaya ancestry among modern populations. See full map

Interestingly, the regions with higher Corded Ware-related ancestry are in great part coincident with (pre)historical Finno-Ugric-speaking territories:

Modern distribution of Uralic languages, with ancient territory (in the Common Era) labelled and delimited by a red line. For more information on the ancient territory see here.

Edit (29/7/2019): Here is the full Steppe_MLBA ancestry map, including Steppe_MLBA (vs. Indus Periphery vs. Onge) in modern South Asian populations from Narasimhan et al. (2018), apart from the ‘Srubnaya component’ in North Eurasian populations. ‘Dummy’ variables (with 0% ancestry) have been included to the south and east of the map to avoid weird interpolations of Steppe_MLBA into Africa and East Asia.

Natural neighbor interpolation of Steppe MLBA-like ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Anatolia Neolithic ancestry

Also interesting are the patterns of non-CWC-related ancestry, in particular the apparent wedge created by expanding East Slavs, which seems to reflect the intrusion of central(-eastern) European ancestry into Finno-Permic territory.

NOTE. Read more on Balto-Slavic hydrotoponymy, on the cradle of Russians as a Finno-Permic hotspot, and about Pre-Slavic languages in North-West Russia.

Natural neighbor interpolation of LBK EN ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of LBK EN ancestry among modern populations. See full map

WHG ancestry

The cline(s) between WHG, EHG, ANE, Nganasan, and Baikal HG are also simplified when some of them excluded, in this case EHG, represented thus in part by WHG, and in part by more eastern ancestries (see below).

Natural neighbor interpolation of WHG ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of WHG ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Arctic, Tundra or Forest-steppe?

Data on Nganasan-related vs. ANE vs. Baikal HG/Ulchi-related ancestry is difficult to map properly, because both ancestry components are usually reported as mutually exclusive, when they are in fact clearly related in an ancestral cline formed by different ancient North Eurasian populations from Siberia.

When it comes to ascertaining the origin of the multiple CWC-related clines among Uralic-speaking peoples, the question is thus how to properly distinguish the proportions of WHG-, EHG-, Nganasan-, ANE or BaikalHG-related ancestral components in North Eurasia, i.e. how did each dialectal group admix with regional groups which formed part of these clines east and west of the Urals.

The truth is, one ought to test specific ancient samples for each “Siberian” ancestry found in the different Uralic dialectal groups, but the simplistic “Siberian” label somehow gets a pass in many papers (see a recent example).

Below qpAdm results with best fits for Ulchi ancestry, Afontova Gora 3 ancestry, and Nganasan ancestry, but some populations show good fits for both and with similar proportions, so selecting one necessarily simplifies the distribution of both.

Ulchi ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Ulchi ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of Ulchi ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

ANE ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of ANE ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of ANE ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Nganasan ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Nganasan ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of Nganasan ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Iran Chalcolithic

A simplistic Iran Chalcolithic-related ancestry is also seen in the Altaic cline(s) which (like Corded Ware ancestry) expanded from Central Asia into Europe – apart from its historical distribution south of the Caucasus:

Natural neighbor interpolation of Iran Neolithic ancestry among modern populations. See full map.
Kriging interpolation of Iran Chalcolithic ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Other models

The first question I imagine some would like to know is: what about other models? Do they show the same results? Here is the simplistic combination of ancestry components published in Damgaard et al. (2018) for the same or similar populations:

NOTE. As you can see, their selection of EHG vs. WHG vs. Nganasan vs. Natufian vs. Clovis of is of little use, but corroborate the results from other papers, and show some interesting patterns in combination with those above.


Natural neighbor interpolation of EHG ancestry among modern populations, data from Damgaard et al. (2018). See full map.
Kriging interpolation of EHG ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Natufian ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Natufian ancestry among modern populations, data from Damgaard et al. (2018). See full map.
Kriging interpolation of Natufian ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

WHG ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of WHG ancestry among modern populations, data from Damgaard et al. (2018). See full map.
Kriging interpolation of WHG ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Baikal HG ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Baikal hunter-gatherer ancestry among modern populations, data from Damgaard et al. (2018). See full map.
Kriging interpolation of Baikal HG ancestry among modern populations. See full map.

Ancient North Eurasians

Once the modern situation is clear, relevant questions are, for example, whether EHG-, WHG-, ANE, Nganasan-, and/or Baikal HG-related meta-populations expanded or became integrated into Uralic-speaking territories.

When did these admixture/migration events happen?

How did the ancient distribution or expansion of Palaeo-Arctic, Baikalic, and/or Altaic peoples affect the current distribution of the so-called “Siberian” ancestry, and of hg. N1a, in each specific population?

NOTE. A little excursus is necessary, because the calculated repetition of a hypothetic opposition “N1a vs. R1a” doesn’t make this dichotomy real:

  1. There was not a single ethnolinguistic community represented by hg. R1a after the initial expansion of Eastern Corded Ware groups, or by hg. N1a-L392 after its initial expansion in Siberia:
  2. Different subclades became incorporated in different ways into Bronze Age and Iron Age communities, most of which without an ethnolinguistic change. For example, N1a subclades became incorporated into North Eurasian populations of different languages, reaching Uralic- and Indo-European-speaking territories of north-eastern Europe during the late Iron Age, at a time when their ancestral origin or language in Siberia was impossible to ascertain. Just like the mix found among Proto-Germanic peoples (R1b, R1a, and I1)* or among Slavic peoples (I2a, E1b, R1a)*, the mix of many Uralic groups showing specific percentages of R1a, N1a, or Q subclades* reflect more or less recent admixture or acculturation events with little impact on their languages.

*other typically northern and eastern European haplogroups are also represented in early Germanic (N1a, I2, E1b, J, G2), Slavic (I1, G2, J) and Finno-Permic (I1, R1b, J) peoples.

Map of archaeological cultures in north-eastern Europe ca. 8th-3rd centuries BC. [The Mid-Volga Akozino group not depicted] Shaded area represents the Ananino cultural-historical society. Fading purple arrows represent likely stepped movements of subclades of haplogroup N for centuries (e.g. Siberian → Ananino → Akozino → Fennoscandia [N-VL29]; Circum-Arctic → forest-steppe [N1, N2]; etc.). Blue arrows represent eventual expansions of Uralic peoples to the north. Modified image from Vasilyev (2002).

The problem with mapping the ancestry of the available sampling of ancient populations is that we lack proper temporal and regional transects. The maps that follow include cultures roughly divided into either “Bronze Age” or “Iron Age” groups, although the difference between samples may span up to 2,000 years.

NOTE. Rough estimates for more external groups (viz. Sweden Battle Axe/Gotland_A for the NW, Srubna from the North Pontic area for the SW, Arctic/Nganasan for the NE, and Baikal EBA/”Ulchi-like” for the SE) have been included to offer a wider interpolated area using data already known.

Bronze Age

Similar to modern populations, the selection of best fit “Siberian” ancestry between Baikal HG vs. Nganasan, both potentially ± ANE (AG3), is an oversimplification that needs to be addressed in future papers.

Corded Ware ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Srubnaya ancestry among Bronze Age populations. See full map.

Nganasan-like ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Nganasan-like ancestry among Bronze Age populations. See full map.

Baikal HG ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Baikal Hunter-Gatherer ancestry among Bronze Age populations. See full map.

Afontova Gora 3 ancestry

Natural neighbor interpolation of Afontova Gora 3 ancestry among Bronze Age populations. See full map.

Iron Age

Corded Ware ancestry

Interestingly, the moderate expansion of Corded Ware-related ancestry from the south during the Iron Age may be related to the expansion of hg. N1a-VL29 into the chiefdom-based system of north-eastern Europe, including Ananyino/Akozino and later expanding Akozino warrior-traders around the Baltic Sea.

NOTE. The samples from Levänluhta are centuries older than those from Estonia (and Ingria), and those from Chalmny Varre are modern ones, so this region has to be read as a south-west to north-east distribution from the Iron Age to modern times.

Natural neighbor interpolation of Srubnaya ancestry among Iron Age populations. See full map.

Baikal HG-like ancestry

The fact that this Baltic N1a-VL29 branch belongs in a group together with typically Avar N1a-B197 supports the Altaic origin of the parent group, which is possibly related to the expansion of Baikalic ancestry and Iron Age nomads:

Natural neighbor interpolation of Baikal HG ancestry among Iron Age populations. See full map.

Nganasan-like ancestry

The dilution of Nganasan-like ancestry in an Arctic region featuring “Siberian” ancestry and hg. N1a-L392 at least since the Bronze Age supports the integration of hg. N1a-Z1934, sister clade of Ugric N1a-Z1936, into populations west and east of the Urals with the expansion of Uralic languages to the north into the Tundra region (see here).

The integration of N1a-Z1934 lineages into Finnic-speaking peoples after their migration to the north and east, and the displacement or acculturation of Saami from their ancestral homeland, coinciding with known genetic bottlenecks among Finns, is yet another proof of this evolution:

Natural neighbor interpolation of Nganasan ancestry among Iron Age populations. See full map.

WHG ancestry

Similarly, WHG ancestry doesn’t seem to be related to important population movements throughout the Bronze Age, which excludes the multiple North Eurasian populations that will be found along the clines formed by WHG, EHG, ANE, Nganasan, Baikal HG ancestry as forming part of the Uralic ethnogenesis, although they may be relevant to follow later regional movements of specific populations.

Natural neighbor interpolation of WHG ancestry among Iron Age populations. See full map.


It seems natural that people used to look at maps of haplogroup distribution from the 2000s, coupled with modern language distributions, and would try to interpret them in a certain way, reaching thus the wrong conclusions whose consequences are especially visible today when ancient DNA keeps contradicting them.

In hindsight, though, assuming that Balto-Slavs expanded with Corded Ware and hg. R1a, or that Uralians expanded with “Siberian” ancestry and hg. N1a, was as absurd as looking at maps of ancestry and haplogroup distribution of ancient and modern Native Americans, trying to divide them into “Germanic” or “Iberian”…

The evolution of each specific region and cultural group of North Eurasia is far from being clear. However, the general trend speaks clearly in favour of an ancient, Bronze Age distribution of North Eurasian ancestry and haplogroups that have decreased, diluted, or become incorporated into expanding Uralians of Corded Ware ancestry, occasionally spreading with inter-regional expansions of local groups.

Given the relatively recent push of Altaic and Indo-European languages into ancestral Uralic-speaking territories, only the ancient Corded Ware expansion remains compatible with the spread of Uralic languages into their historical distribution.


Waves of Palaeolithic ANE ancestry driven by P subclades; new CWC-like Finnish Iron Age

New preprint The population history of northeastern Siberia since the Pleistocene, by Sikora et al. bioRxiv (2018).

Interesting excerpts (emphasis mine; most internal references removed):

ANE ancestry

The earliest, most secure archaeological evidence of human occupation of the region comes from the artefact-rich, high-latitude (~70° N) Yana RHS site dated to ~31.6 kya (…)

The Yana RHS human remains represent the earliest direct evidence of human presence in northeastern Siberia, a population we refer to as “Ancient North Siberians” (ANS). Both Yana RHS individuals were unrelated males, and belong to mitochondrial haplogroup U, predominant among ancient West Eurasian hunter-gatherers, and to Y chromosome haplogroup P1, ancestral to haplogroups Q and R, which are widespread among present-day Eurasians and Native Americans.

Symmetry tests using f4 statistics reject tree-like clade relationships with both Early West Eurasians (EWE; Sunghir) and Early East Asians (EEA; Tianyuan); however, Yana is genetically closer to EWE, despite its geographic location in northeastern Siberia

Using admixture graphs (qpGraph) and outgroup-based estimation of mixture proportions (qpAdm), we find that Yana can be modelled as EWE with ~25% contribution from EEA

Among all ancient individuals, Yana shares the most genetic drift with Mal’ta, and f4 statistics show that Mal’ta shares more alleles with Yana than with EWE (e.g. f4(Mbuti,Mal’ta;Sunghir,Yana) = 0.0019, Z = 3.99). Mal’ta and Yana also exhibit a similar pattern of genetic affinities to both EWE and EEA, consistent with previous studies.The ANE lineage can thus be considered a descendant of the ANS lineage, demonstrating that by 31.6 kya early representatives of this lineage were widespread across northern Eurasia, including far northeastern Siberia.


Ancient Palaeosiberian

(…) the 9.8 kya Kolyma1 individual, representing a group we term “Ancient Paleosiberians” (AP). Our results indicate that AP are derived from a first major genetic shift observed in the region. Principal component analysis (PCA), outgroup f3-statistics and mtDNA and Y chromosome haplogroups (G1b and Q1a1a, respectively) demonstrate a close affinity between AP and present-day Koryaks, Itelmen and Chukchis, as well as with Native Americans.

For both AP and Native Americans, ANS ancestry appears more closely related to Mal’ta than Yana, therefore rejecting a direct contribution of Yana to later AP or Native American groups.

Lake Baikal Neolithic – Bronze Age

(…) the newly reported genomes from Ust’Belaya and recently published neighbouring Neolithic and Bronze Age sites show a succession of three distinct genetic ancestries over a ~6 ky time span. The earliest individuals show predominantly East Asian ancestry, closely related to the ancient individuals from DGC. In the early Bronze Age (BA), we observe a resurgence of AP ancestry (up to ~50% ancestry fraction), as well as influence of West Eurasian Steppe ANE ancestry represented by the early BA individuals from Afanasievo in the Altai region (~10%) This is consistent with previous reports of gene flow from an unknown ANE-related source into Lake Baikal hunter-gatherers.

Our results suggest a southward expansion of AP as a possible source, which is also consistent with the replacement of Y chromosome lineages observed at Lake Baikal, from predominantly haplogroup N in the Neolithic to haplogroup Q in the BA. Finally, the most recent individual from Ust’Belaya, dated to ~600 years ago, falls along the Neosiberian cline, similar to the ~760 year-old ‘Young Yana’ individual from northeastern Siberia, demonstrating the widespread distribution of Neosiberian ancestry in the most recent epoch.

Genetic structure of ancient northeast Siberians. PCA of ancient individuals projected onto a set of modern Eurasian and American individuals. Abbreviations in group labels: UP – Upper Palaeolithic; LP – Late Palaeolithic; M – Mesolithic; EN – Early Neolithic; MN – Middle Neolithic; LN – Late Neolithic; EBA – Early Bronze Age; LBA – Late Bronze Age; IA – Iron Age; PE – Paleoeskimo; MED – Medieval

Finland Saami

At the western edge of northern Eurasia, genetic and strontium isotope data from ancient individuals at the Levänluhta site documents the presence of Saami ancestry in Southern Finland in the Late Holocene 1.5 kya. This ancestry component is currently limited to the northern fringes of the region, mirroring the pattern observed for AP ancestry in northeastern Siberia. However, while the ancient Saami individuals harbour East Asian ancestry, we find that this is better modelled by DGC rather than AP, suggesting that AP influence was likely restricted to the eastern side of the Urals. Comparison of ancient Finns and Saami with their present-day counterparts reveals additional gene flow over the past 1.6 kya, with evidence for West Eurasian admixture into modern Saami. The ancient Finn from Levänluhta shows lower Siberian ancestry than modern Finns .

EDIT (27 OCT 2018): By comparing the three, I see these are samples published already (at least two) in Lamnidis et al. (2018), but here with added (1) specific radiocarbon dates, (2) comparison with Neosiberian populations and (3) strontium isotope analyses.

Finnish_IA (ca. 350 AD) is probably a Saami-speaking individual, just like the Saami_IA with newly reported radiocarbon dates from Levänluhta ca. 400-600 AD (since Fennic peoples were then likely around the Gulf of Finland).

The conflicting strontium isotope data on marine dietary resources on certain samples from the supplementary material hint at possible external origin of the diet of some of the previously reported (and possibly one newly reported) Saami Iron Age individuals, from some 25-30 km. to the northwest through the river up to hundreds of km. to the southwest of Levänluhta (i.e. the whole coast of the Bothnian Sea). It is unclear why they would prefer an origin of the dietary source in southern Baltic regions instead of some km. to the west, though, unless that’s what they want to propose based on the sample’s admixture…

The coast of the Bothnian Sea (=the northern part of the Baltic Sea, between Sweden and Finland) lay only 25-30 km to the northwest, and accessible to the Iron Age people of the Levänluhta region via the Kyrönjoki river. (…) For individual JA2065/DA236, the low 87Sr/86Sr value (0.71078) would imply an exceptionally heavy reliance on Baltic Sea resources. The δ13C and δ15N values of the individual are near comparable (especially considering within-Baltic latitudinal gradients in δ13C; Torniainen et al. 2017) to the δ13C and δ15N values of a Middle Neolithic population on the Baltic island of Gotland (Eriksson, 2004) interpreted to have subsisted primarily on seals.

These new data on the samples give us some more information than what we already had, because the early date of Finnish_IA implies that there was few East Asian admixture (if any at all) in west Finland during the Roman Iron Age, which pushes still farther forward in time the expected appearance of Siberian ancestry among Saamic (first) and Fennic populations (later). It is unclear whether this East Asian ancestry found in Finnish_IA is actually related to DGC, or it is rather related to the ENA-like ancestry found already in Baltic hunter-gatherers (i.e. in some EHG samples from Karelia), for which Baikal_EN is a good proxy in Lazaridis et al. (2018).

Since Bronze Age and Iron Age samples from Estonia show more Baltic_HG drift compared to Corded Ware samples, it is likely that this supposedly DGC-related ancestry (here considered part of the ‘Siberian ancestry’) is actually an EHG-related ENA component of north-east European hunter-gatherers, with whom Finno-Saamic peoples admixed during the expansion of the Corded Ware culture into Finland.

The paper finds thus increased (probably the actual) Siberian ancestry in modern Finns compared to this Iron Age Saami individual. Coupled with the later Saami Iron Age samples, from between one to three centuries later – showing the start of Siberian ancestry influx – , we can begin to establish when the expansion of Siberian ancestry happened in central Finland, and thus quite likely when the Saami began to expand to the north and east and admix with Palaeo-Laplandic peoples.

Admixture modelling using qpAdm. Maps showing locations and ancestry proportions of ancient (left) and modern (right) groups.

One sample of haplogroup N1a1a1a1a4a1-M1982, Yana_MED, is found in the Arctic region (north-eastern Yakutia) ca. 1100 AD. Since it is derived from N1a1a1a1a-L392, it might be a surprise for some to find it in a clearly non-Uralic speaking environment at the same time other subclades of this haplogroup were admixing in the west with well-established Finno-Saamic, Volga-Finnic, Ugric, and Samoyedic populations…

On the growing doubts that these data – contradicting the CWC=IE theory – are creating among geneticists (from the supplementary materials):

NOTE. This paper comes from the Copenhagen group, also signed by Kristiansen, one of today’s strongest supporters of this connection

The Proto-Saami language evolved in southern Finland and Karelia in the Early Iron Age, an area now host to Finnish and the closely related Karelian, but with Saami toponyms showing that the latter two languages are intrusive here (Saarikivi 2004). Saami-speaking populations are thought to have retreated to Lapland during the Middle Iron Age (300–800 AD), where it diverged into the modern Saami dialects. Genetically, the northward retreat of the Saami language correlates with the documented decrease of Saami ancestry in Southern Finland between the Iron Age and the modern period (cf. Lamnidis et al. 2018).

On the way to Lapland, the Saami replaced at least two linguistically obscure groups. This can be inferred from 1) an influx of non-Uralic loanwords into Proto-Saami in the Finnish Lakeland area, and 2) an influx of non-Uralic, non-Germanic words into Saami dialects in Lapland (Aikio 2012). Both of these borrowing events imply contact with non-Saami-speaking groups, e.g. non-Uralic-speaking hunter-gatherers that may have left a genetic and linguistic footprint on modern Saami populations.

The linguistic prehistory of Finland thus does not allow for a straightforward interpretation of the genetic data. The detection of East Asian ancestry in the genetically Saami individual is indicative of a population movement from the east (cf. Lamnidis et al. 2018, Rootsi et al. 2007), one that given the affinities with the ~7.6 ky old individuals from the Devil’s Gate Cave may have been a western extension of the Neosiberian turnover. However, it remains unclear whether this gene flow should be associated with the arrival of Uralic speakers, thus providing further support for a Uralic homeland in Eastern Eurasia, or with an earlier immigration of pre-Uralic, so-called “Paleo-Lakelandic” groups.

I think the genetic interpretation is already straightforward, though. We had a sneak peek at how this late admixture with non-Uralians (mainly Palaeo-Lakelandic and Palaeo-Laplandic peoples from Lovozero and related asbestos ware cultures) is going to unfold among expanding Saami-speaking populations thanks to Lamnidis et al. (2018):

PCA plot of 113 Modern Eurasian populations, with individuals from this study projected on the principal components. Uralic speakers are highlighted in light purple. Image modified from Lamnidis et al. (2018)

Also, still no trace of R1a in far East Asia (reported as M17 ca. 5300 BC near Lake Baikal by Moussa et al. 2016), so I still have doubts about my previous assessment that R1a split into M17 (and thus also M417) in Siberia, with those expanding hunter-gatherer pottery.