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.
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.
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.
NOTE. The video is best viewed in HD 1080p (1920×1080) with a display that allows for this or greater video quality, and a screen big enough to see haplogroup symbols, i.e. tablet or greater. The YouTube link is here. The Facebook link is here.
Based on the results of the past 5 years or so, which have been confirming this combined picture every single time, I doubt there will be much need to change it in any radical way, as only minor details remain to be clarified.
I wanted to publish a GIS tool of my own for everyone to have an updated reference of all data I use for my books.
The most complex GIS tools consume too many resources when used online in a client-server model, so I have to keep that to myself, but there are some ways to publish low quality outputs.
The files below include the possibility to zoom some levels to be able to see more samples, and also to check each one for more information on their ID, attributed culture and label, archaeological site, source paper, subclade (and people responsible for SNP inferences if any), etc.
Some usage notes:
Files are large (ca. 20 Mb), so they still take some time to load.
For the meaning of symbols and colors (for Y-DNA haplogroups), if there is any doubt, check the video above.
Pop-ups with sample information will work on desktop browsers by clicking on them, apparently not on smartphone and related tactile OS. I have changed the settings to show pop-ups on hover, so that it now works (to some extent) on tactile OS.
The search tool can look for specific samples according to their official ID, and works by highlighting the symbol of the selected individual (turning it into a bright blue dot), and leading the layer view to the location, but it seems to work best only with some browser and OS settings – in other browsers, you need to zoom out to see where the dot is located. The specific sample with its information could paradoxically disappear in search mode, so you might need to reload and look again for the same site that was highlighted.
Latitude and longitude values have been randomly modified to avoid samples overcrowding specific sites, so they are not the original ones.
NOTE. Because there are too many samples at the starting view, depending on the file you should zoom some levels to start seeing symbols.
I have tried running supervised ADMIXTURE models by selecting distant populations based on PCA and qpAdm results, but it seems to work fine only for a small K number, being easily improved when running it unsupervised.
Adding distant populations seems to improve or mess up with the results in unpredictable ways, too, so at this point I doubt ADMIXTURE (or anything other than qpAdm) is actually useful to obtain anything precise in terms of ancestry evolution, although it can give a good overall idea of rough ancestry changes, if K is kept small enough.
Anyway, I will keep trying to find a simple way to show the actual evolution and expansion of “Steppe ancestry”. Since every single run for thousands of samples takes days, I don’t really know if and when I will find something interesting to show…
Two new interesting papers concerning Corded Ware and Bell Beaker peoples appeared last week, supporting yet again what is already well-known since 2015 about West Uralic and North-West Indo-European speakers and their expansion.
Below are relevant excerpts (emphasis mine) and comments.
The discovery of the Alexandria outlier represented a clear support for a long-lasting genomic difference between the two distinct cultural groups, Yamnaya and Corded Ware, already visible in an opposition Khvalynsk vs. late Sredni Stog ca. 4000 BC, i.e. well before the formation of both Late Eneolithic/Early Bronze Age groups.
However, the realization that it may not have been an Eneolithic individual, but rather a (Middle?) Bronze Age one, suggests that Sredni Stog was possibly not directly related to Corded Ware, and a potential direct connection with Yamnaya might have to be reevaluated, e.g. through the Carpathian Basin, as Anthony (2017) proposed.
This new paper shows two early Corded Ware individuals from Obłaczkowo, Poland (ca. 2900-2600 BC) – hence close to the supposed original Proto-Corded Ware community – with an apparently (almost) full “Steppe-like” ancestry, clustering (almost) with Yamnaya individuals:
Similar to the BAC individuals, the newly sequenced individuals from the present-day Karlova in Estonia and Obłaczkowo in Poland appear to have strong genetic affinities to other individuals from BAC and CWC contexts across the Baltic Sea region. Some individuals from CWC contexts, including the two from Obłaczkowo, cluster closely with the potential source population of steppe-related ancestry, the Yamnaya herders. Notably, these individuals appear to be those with the earliest radiocarbon dates among all genetically investigated individuals from CWC contexts. Overall, for CWC-associated individuals, there is a clear trend of decreasing affinity to Yamnaya herders with time.
NOTE. Interestingly, this sample is almost certainly attributed to the skeleton E8-A, which had been supposedly already investigated by the Copenhagen group as the RISE1 sample:
We note that RISE1 is also described as the individual from Obłaczkowo feature E8-A. However, their genetic results differ from ours. They present this individual as a molecularly determined male that belongs to Y-chromosomal haplogroup (hg) R1b and to mtDNA hg K1b1a1 while our results show this individual to be female, carrying a mtDNA hg U3a’c profile
NOTE. They might show contributions from Pre-Yamnaya-influenced Sredni Stog, though, but if they show a contribution of Yamnaya, then they are probably outliers, related to Yamnaya vanguard groups (see image below). And for them to show it, then both sources, Yamnaya and Corded Ware, should be clearly distinguishable from each other and their relative contribution quantifiable in formal stats, something difficult (if not impossible) to ascertain today.
Their position in the published PCA – a plot apparently affected by projection bias – suggests a cluster in common with early Baltic samples, which are known to show contributions from East European sub-Neolithic populations (see qpAdm values for Baltic CWC samples).
NOTE. Results for previous samples labelled as Poland CWC are unreliable due to their low coverage.
The most interesting aspect about the ancestry shown by these early samples is their further support for an origin of the culture different than Sredni Stog, and for a rejection of the Alexandria outlier as ancestral to them, hence for a Volhynian-Podolian homeland of Proto-Corded Ware peoples, with an ancestry probably more closely related to the late Maykop Steppe- and Trypillian/GAC groups admixed with sub-Neolithic populations of the Eastern European Late Eneolithic.
NOTE. That is, unless there is a reason for the apparent increase in so-called “Steppe-ancestry” during the northward and westward migration of CWC peoples that represents another thing entirely…
#UPDATE (27 OCT 2019): Apparently, the PCA was actually not affected by projection bias:
Sample poz44 clusters ‘to the south’, with other early German ones, but also close to Yamnaya. Its poor coverage makes qpAdm results unreliable, but its common cluster close to central European and eastern CWC groups – despite belonging to the same Obłaczkowo site – supports that it is more representative of the Proto-CWC population than poz81.
Sample poz81 clusters with Yamnaya samples – or at least with the wider, Steppe-related cluster. Nevertheless, analyses with qpAdm – in combination with values obtained for other early Baltic samples – support that the ancestry of poz81 is more closely related to a core Corded Ware population admixed with sub-Neolithic peoples (similar to Samara LN).
NOTE. I have selected Czech CWC as a potential source closer to the Proto-CWC population, similar to models with Baltic samples. Since Czech CWC samples are later than these from Obłaczkowo, I have also checked the reverse model, with Poz81 and GAC Poland as a source for Czech CWC, and the fits are slightly worse. Anyway, ‘better’ or ‘worse’ p-values can’t determine the direction of migration…
I.2. CWC expansion under R1a bottlenecks
The two males in our dataset (ber1 and poz81) belonged to Y-chromosome R1a haplogroups, as do the majority of males (16/24) from the previously published CWC contexts, while a smaller fraction belonged to R1b [3/24] or I2a [3/24] lineages. The R1a haplogroup has not been found among Neolithic farmer populations nor in hunter–gatherer groups in central and western Europe, but it has been reported from eastern European hunter–gatherers and Eneolithic groups. Individuals from the Pontic–Caspian steppe, associated with the Yamnaya Culture, carry mostly R1b and not R1a haplotypes.
Sample poz81 is of basal hg. R1a-CTS4385*, an R1a-M417 subclade, supporting once again that most Corded Ware individuals from western and central European groups expanded under R1a-M417 (xZ645) lineages. The Battle Axe sample from Bergsgraven (ca. 2620-2470 BC) shows a basal hg. R1a-Y2395*, a R1a-Z283 subclade leading to the typically Fennoscandian R1a-Z284.
Both findings further support that typical lineages of West CWC groups, including R1a-M417 (xZ645) subclades, were fully replaced by incoming East Bell Beakers, and that the limited expansion of R1a-Z284 and I1 (the latter found in one newly reported Late Neolithic sample from Sweden) was the outcome of later regional bottlenecks within Scandinavia, after the creation of a maritime dominion by the Bell Beaker elites during the Dagger Period.
I.3. CWC and lactase persistence
(…) one of these individuals (kar1) carried at least one allele (-13910 C->T) associated with lactose tolerance, while the other two individuals (ber1 and poz81) carried at least one ancestral variant each, consistent with previous observations of low levels of lactose tolerance variants in the Neolithic and a slight increase among individuals from CWC contexts.
The fact that two early CWC individuals carry ancestral variants could be said to support the improbability of the individual from Alexandria representing a community ancestral to the Corded Ware community. On the other hand, the late CWC individual from Estonia carries one allele, but it still seems that only Bell Beakers and Steppe-related groups show the necessary two alleles during the Early Bronze Age, which is in line with a late Repin/early Yamnaya-related origin of the successful selection of the trait, consistent with the expansion of their specialized semi-nomadic cattle-breeding economy through the steppe biome during the Late Eneolithic.
I.4. West Uralic spread from the East
The BAC groups fit as a sister group to the CWC-associated group from Estonia but not as a sister group to the CWC groups from Poland or Lithuania (|Z| > 3), indicating some differences in ancestry between these CWC groups and BAC. Supervised admixture modelling suggests that BAC may be the CWC-related group with the lowest YAM-related ancestry and with more ancestry from European Neolithic groups.
While the results of the paper are compatible with a migration from either the Eastern or the Western Baltic into Scandinavia, phylogeography and archaeology support that Battle Axe peoples emerged as a Baltic Corded Ware group close to the Vistula that expanded first to the north-east, and then to the west from Finland, continuing mostly unscathed during the whole Bronze Age mostly in eastern Fennoscandia with the development of Balto-Finnic- and Samic-speaking communities.
Radiocarbon dating showed that the three individuals from the Öllsjö megalithic tomb derived from later burials, where oll007 (2860–2500 cal BCE) overlaps with the time interval of the BAC, and oll009 and oll010 (1930–1650 cal BCE) fall within the Scandinavian Late Neolithic and Early Bronze Age
In my last post, I showed how the ancestry of Corded Ware from Esperstedt is consistent with influence by incoming Yamnaya vanguard settlers or early Bell Beakers, stemming ultimately from the Carpathian Basin, something that could be inferred from the position of the Esperstedt outlier in the PCA, and by the knowledge of Yamnaya archaeological influences up to Saxony-Anhalt.
Yamnaya settlers are strongly suspected to have migrated in small so-called vanguard groups to the west and north of the Carpathians in the first half of the 3rd millennium BC, well before the eventual adoption of the Proto-Beaker package and their expansion ca. 2500 BC as East Bell Beakers.
Tauber Valley infiltration
As I mentioned in the books, one of the known – among the many more unknown – sites displaying Yamnaya-related traits and suggesting the expansion of Yamnaya settlers into Central Europe is Lauda-Königshofen, in the Tauber Valley.
A series of CW cemeteries have been excavated in the Tauber valley. There are three large cemeteries known and some 30 smaller sites. The larger ones are Tauberbischofsheim-Dittingheim with 62 individuals, Tauberbischofsheim-Impfingen with 40 individuals, and Lauda-Königshofen with 91 individuals. The cemeteries are dispersed rather regularly along the Tauber valley, on both sides of the river, suggesting a quite densely settled landscape.
The Lauda-Königshofen graves consisted mostly of single inhumations in contracted position, usually oriented E-W or NE-SW. A total of 91 individuals were buried in 69 graves. At least 9 double graves and three graves with 3–4 individuals were present. In contrast to the common CW pattern, sexes were not distinguished by body position, only by grave goods. This trait is common in the Tauber valley and suggests a local burial tradition in this area. Stone axes were restricted to males, pottery to females, while other artifacts were common to both sexes. About a third of the graves were surrounded by ring ditches, suggesting palisade enclosures and possibly over-plowed barrows.
In particular, Frînculeasa, Preda, & Heyd (2015) used Lauda-Königshofen as representative of the mobility of horse-riding Yamnaya nomadic herders migrating into southern Germany, referring to the findings in Trautmann (2012) about the nomadic herders from the Tauber Valley, and their already known differences with other Corded Ware groups.
The likely influence of Yamnaya in the region has been reported at least since the 2000s, repeatedly mentioned by Jozef Bátora (2002, 2003, 2006), who compiled Yamnaya influences in a map that has been copied ever since, with little improvement over time. Heyd believes that there are potentially many Yamnaya remains along the Middle and Lower Danube and tributaries not yet found, though.
NOTE. Looking for this specific site, I realized that Bátora (and possibly many after him who, like me, copied his map) located Lauda-Königshofen in a more south-western position within Baden-Württemberg than its actual location. I have now corrected it in the maps of Chalcolithic migrations.
Althäuser Hockergrab…Bell Beakers
Unfortunately, though, it is very difficult to attribute the reported R1b-L51 sample from the Tauber valley to a population preceding the arrival of East Bell Beakers in the region, so there is no uncontroversial smoking gun of Yamnaya vanguard settlers – yet. Reasons to doubt a Pre-Beaker origin are as follows:
1. This family of the Tauber valley shows a late radiocarbon date (ca. 2500 BC), i.e. from a time where East Bell Beakers are known to have been already expanding in all directions from the Middle and Upper Danube and its tributaries.
2.Archaeological information is scarce. Remains of these four individuals were discovered in 1939 and officially reported together with other findings in 1950, without any meaningful data that could distinguish between Bell Beakers and Corded Ware individuals.
This site is located in the Tauber valley, ca. 100 km to the northwest of the Lech valley. The site was discovered during the construction of a sports field in 1939 and was subsequently excavated by G. Müller and O. Paret. Four individuals in crouched position were found in the burial pit of a flat grave. The burial did not contain any grave goods, but due to the type of grave and positioning of the bodies (with heads pointing towards southwest) the site was attributed to the Corded Ware complex.
The classification of this burial as of CWC and not BBC seems to have been based entirely on the numerous CWC findings in the Tauber valley, rather than on its particular burial orientation following a regional custom (foreign to the described standard of both cultures), and on its grave type that was also found among Bell Beaker groups. Like many human remains recovered in dubious circumstances in the 20th century, these samples should have probably been labelled (at least in the genetic paper) more properly as Tauber_LN or Tauber_EBA.
3. In terms of ancestry, there seem to be no gross differences between the Lech Valley BBC individuals and previously reported South German Beakers, originally Yamnaya-like settlers admixing through exogamy with locals, including Corded Ware peoples, as the sex bias of the Lech Valley Beakers proves (see PCA plot below). In other words, northern and eastern Beakers admixed with regional (Epi-)Corded Ware females during their respective expansions, similar to how southern and western Beakers admixed with regional EEF-related females.
The two available Tauber Valley samples (“Tauber_CWC”) show the same pattern: a quite recent Steppe-related male bias and Anatolia_Neolithic-related female bias. Nevertheless, the male sample clusters ‘to the south’ in the PCA relative to all sampled Corded Ware individuals (see PCA plot below), and shows less Yamnaya-like ancestry than what is reported (or can be inferred) for Yamnaya from Hungary or early Bell Beakers of elevated Steppe-related ancestry.
The ancestry and position of the Althäuser male in the PCA is thus fully compatible with recently incoming East Bell Beakers admixing with local peoples (including Corded Ware) through exogamy, but not so much with a sample that would be expected from Yamanaya vanguard + Corded Ware-related ancestry (more like the Esperstedt outlier or the early France Beaker). Compared to the more ‘northern’ (fully Corded Ware-like) position ancestry of his female counterpart, there is little to support that both are part of the same native Tauber valley community after generations of ancestry levelling…
#UPDATE (27 OCT 2019): The PCA shows that the Althäuser male clusters, in fact, ‘to the north’ of the female one, almost on the same spot as a Bell Beaker sample from the Lech Valley.
Despite their reported damage and poor coverage, there seems to be a trend for qpAdm values to prefer a source population for the male (Alt_4) close to Germany Beakers, whereas the female sample (Alt_3) shows ‘better’ fits when a Corded Ware source is selected.
Also relevant is the Corded Ware ancestry of the male – closer to a Czech rather than German CWC source – compatible with an eastern origin, hence supporting a recent arrival via the Danube, in contrast to the local source of the CWC admixture of the female. The poorer coverage of the female sample makes these results questionable, though.
4. The haplogroup inference is also unrevealing: whereas the paper reports that it is R1b-P310* (xU106, xP312), there is no data to support a xP312 call, so it may well be even within the P312 branch, like most sampled Bell Beaker males. Similarly, the paper also reports that HUGO_180Sk1 (ca. 2340 BC) shows a positive SNP for the U106 trunk, which would make it the earliest known U106 sample and originally from Central Europe, but there is no clear support for this SNP call, either. At least not in their downloadable BAM files, as far as I can tell. Even if both were true, they would merely confirm the path of expansion of Yamnaya / East Bell Beakers through the Danube, already visible in confirmed genomic data:
II.2. Proto-Celts and the Tumulus culture
The most interesting data from Mittnik et al. (2019) – overshadowed by the (at first sight) striking “CWC” label of the Althäuser male – is the finding that the most likely (Pre-)Proto-Celtic community of Southern Germany shows, as expected, major genetic continuity over time with Yamnaya/East Bell Beaker-derived patrilineal families, which suggests an almost full replacement of other Y-chromosome haplogroups in Southern German Bronze Age communities, too.
This Central European Bronze Age continuity is particularly visible in many generations of different patrilocal families practising female exogamy, showing patrilineal inheritance mainly under R1b-P312 (mostly U152+) lineages proper of Central European bottlenecks, all of them apparently following a similar sociopolitical system spanning roughly a thousand years, since the arrival of East Bell Beakers in the region (ca. 2500 BC) until – at least – the end of the Middle Bronze Age (ca. 1300 BC):
Here, we show a different kind of social inequality in prehistory, i.e., complex households that consisted of i) a higher-status core family, passing on wealth and status to descendants, ii) unrelated, wealthy and high-status non-local women and iii) local, low-status individuals. Based on comparisons of grave goods, several of the high-status non-local females could have come from areas inhabited by the Unetice culture, i.e., from a distance of at least 350 km. As the EBA evidence from most of Southern Germany is very similar to the Lech valley, we suggest that social structures comparable to our microregion existed in a much broader area. The EBA households in the Lech valley, however, seem similar to the later historically known oikos, the household sphere of classic Greece, as well as the Roman familia, both comprising the kin-related family and their slaves.
The gradual increase in local EEF-like ancestry among South Germany EBA and MBA communities over the previous BBC period offers a reasonable explanation as to how Italic and Celtic communities remained in loose contact (enough to share certain innovations) despite their physical separation by the Alps during the Early Bronze Age, and probably why sampled Bell Beakers from France were found to be the closest source of Celts arriving in Iberia during the Urnfield period.
Furthermore, continued contacts with Únětice-related peoples through exogamy also show how Celtic-speaking communities closer to the Danube might have influenced (and might have been influenced by) Germanic-speaking communities of the Nordic Late Neolithic and Bronze Age, helping explain their potentially long-lasting linguistic exchange.
Like other previous Neolithic or Chalcolithic groups that Yamnaya and Bell Beakers encountered in Europe, ancestry related to the Corded Ware culture became part of Bell Beaker groups during their expansion and later during the ancestry levelling in the European Early Bronze Age, which helps us distinguish the evolution of Indo-European-speaking communities in Europe, and suggests likely contacts between different cultural groups separated hundreds of km. from each other.
All in all, there is nothing to support that (epi-)Corded Ware groups might have survived in any way in Central or Western Europe: whether through their culture, their Y-chromosome haplogroups, or their ancestry, they followed the fate of other rapidly expanding groups before them, viz. Funnelbeaker, Baden, or Globular Amphorae cultural groups. This is very much unlike the West Uralic-speaking territory in the Eastern Baltic and the Russian forests, where Corded Ware-related cultures thrived during the Bronze Age.
It was about time that geneticists caught up with the relevance of Y-DNA bottlenecks when assessing migrations and cultural developments.
From Malmström et al. (2019):
The paternal lineages found in the BAC/CWC individuals remain enigmatic. The majority of individuals from CWC contexts that have been genetically investigated this far for the Y-chromosome belong to Y-haplogroup R1a, while the majority of sequenced individuals of the presumed source population of Yamnaya steppe herders belong to R1b. R1a has been found in Mesolithic and Neolithic Ukraine. This opens the possibility that the Yamnaya and CWC complexes may have been structured in terms of paternal lineages—possibly due to patrilineal inheritance systems in the societies — and that genetic studies have not yet targeted the direct sources of the expansions into central and northern Europe.
Some of the early farmers studied were part of the Neolithic Bell Beaker culture, named for the shape of their pots. Later generations of Bronze Age men who retained Bell Beaker DNA were high-ranking, buried with bronze and copper daggers, axes, and chisels. Those men carried a Y chromosome variant that is still common today in Europe. In contrast, low-ranking men without grave goods had different Y chromosomes, showing a different ancestry on their fathers’ side, and suggesting that men with Bell Beaker ancestry were richer and had more sons, whose genes persist to the present.
There was no sign of these women’s daughters in the burials, suggesting they, too, were sent away for marriage, in a pattern that persisted for 700 years. The only local women were girls from high-status families who died before ages 15 to 17, and poor, unrelated women without grave goods, probably servants, Mittnik says. Strontium levels from three men, in contrast, showed that although they had left the valley as teens, they returned as adults.
(…) it has long been assumed that prior to the Athenian and Roman empires,—which arose nearly 2,500 and more than 2,000 years ago, respectively—human social structure was relatively straightforward: you had those who were in power and those who were not. A study published Thursday in Science suggests it was not that simple. As far back as 4,000 years ago, at the beginning of the Bronze Age and long before Julius Caesar presided over the Forum, human families of varying status levels had quite intimate relationships. Elites lived together with those of lower social classes and women who migrated in from outside communities. It appears early human societies operated in a complex, class-based system that propagated through generations.
A long-lasting and pervasive social system of Bronze Age elites under Yamnaya lineages strikingly similar to this Southern German region can be easily assumed for the British Isles and Iberia, and it is likely to be also found in the Low Countries, Northern Germany, Denmark, Italy, France, Bohemia and Moravia, etc., but also (with some nuances) in Southern Scandinavia and Central-East Europe during the Bronze Age.
Therefore, only the modern genetic pool of some border North-West Indo-European-speaking communities of Europe need further information to describe a precise chain of events before their eventual expansion in more recent times:
the relative geographical isolation causing the visible regional founder effects in Scandinavia, proper of the maritime dominion of the Nordic Late Neolithic (related thus to the Island Biogeography Theory); and
NOTE. Rumour has it that R1b-L23 lineages have already been found among Mycenaeans, while they haven’t been found among sampled early West European Corded Ware groups, so the westward expansion of Indo-European-speaking Yamnaya-derived peoples mainly with R1b-L23 lineages through the Danube Basin merely lacks official confirmation.
I have recently written about the spread of Pre-Yamnaya or Yamnaya ancestry and Corded Ware-related ancestry throughout Eurasia, using exclusively analyses published by professional geneticists, and filling in the gaps and contradictory data with the most reasonable interpretations. I did so consciously, to avoid any suspicion that I was interspersing my own data or cherry picking results.
Now I’m finished recapitulating the known public data, and the only way forward is the assessment of these populations using the available datasets and free tools.
Understanding the complexities of qpAdm is fairly difficult without a proper genetic and statistical background, which I won’t pretend to have, so its tweaking to get strictly correct results would require an unending game of trial and error. I have sadly little time for this, even taking my tendency to procrastination into account… so I have used a simple model akin to those published before – in particular, the outgroup selection by Ning, Wang et al. (2019), who seem to be part of the only group interested in distinguishing Yamnaya-related from Corded Ware-related ancestry, probably the most relevant question discussed today in population genomics regarding the Proto-Indo-European and Proto-Uralic homelands.
I try to prepare in advance a bunch of relevant files with left pops and right pops for each model:
It seems a priori more reasonable to use geographically and chronologically closer proxy populations (say, Trypillia or GAC for Steppe-related peoples) than hypothetic combinations of ancestral ones (viz. Anatolian farmer, WHG, and EHG).
This also means using subgroups closer to the most likely source population, such as (Don-Volga interfluve) Yamnaya_Kalmykia rather than (Middle Volga) Yamnaya_Samara for the western expansion of late Repin/early Yamnaya, or the early Germany_Corded_Ware.SG or Czech_Corded Ware for the group closest to the Proto-Corded Ware population (see below), likely neighbouring the Upper Vistula region.
I usually test two source populations for different targets, which seems like a much more efficient way of using computer resources, whenever I know what I want to test, since I need my PC back for its normal use; whenever I don’t know exactly what to test, I use three-way admixture models and look for subsets to try and improve the results.
I have probably left out some more complex models by individualizing the most relevant groups, but for the time being this would have to do. Also, no other formal stats have been used in any case, which is an evident shortcoming, ruling out an interpretation drawn directly and only from the results below.
Full qpAdm results for each batch of samples are presented in a Google Spreadsheet, with each tab (bottom of the page) showing a different combination of sources, usually in order of formally ‘best’ (first to the left) to ‘worst’ (last to the right) fits, although the order is difficult to select in highly heterogeneous target groups, as will be readily visible.
Corded Ware origins
The latest publications on the Yampil barrow complex have not improved much our understanding of the complexity of Corded Ware origins from an archaeological point of view, involving multiple cultural (hence likely population) influences. This bit is from Ivanova et al., Baltic-Pontic Studies (2015) 20:1, and most hypotheses of the paper remain unanswered (except maybe for the relevance of the Złota group):
In the light of the above outline therefore one should argue that the ‘architecture of barrows’ associated in the ‘Yampil landscape’ of the Middle Dniester Area with the Eneolithic (specifically, mainly with the TC), precedes the development of a similar phenomenon that can be observed from 2900/2800 BC in the Upper Dniester Area and drainage basin of the Upper Vistula, associated with the CWC [Goslar et al. 2015; Włodarczak 2006; 2007; 2008; Jarosz, Włodarczak 2007]. The most consuming research question therefore is whether ritual customs making use of Eneolithic (Tripolye) ‘barrow architecture’ could have penetrated northwards along the Dniester route, where GAC communities functioned. One could also ask what role the rituals played among the autochthons [Kośko 2000; Włodarczak 2008; 2014: 335; Ivanova, Toshchev 2015b].
This issue has already been discussed with a resulting tentative systemic taxonomy in the studies of Włodarczak, arguing for the Złota culture (ZC) in the Vistula region as an illustration of one of the (Małopolska) reception centres of civilization inspirations from the oldest Pontic ‘barrow culture’ circle associated with the Eneolithic and Early Bronze Age [Włodarczak 2008]. Notably, it is in the ZC that one can notice a set of cultural traits (catacomb grave construction, burial details, forms and decoration of vessels) analogous to those shared by the north-western Black Sea Coast groups of the forest-steppe Eneolithic (chiefly Zhyvotilovka-Volchansk) and the Late Tripolye circle (chiefly Usatovo-Gordinești-Horodiștea-Kasperovtsy).
Taking into account that I6561 might be wrongly dated, we cannot include the Corded Ware-like sample of the end-5th millennium BC in the analysis of Corded Ware origins. That uncertainty in the chronology of the appearance of “Steppe ancestry” in Proto-Corded Ware peoples complicates the selection of any potential source population from the CHG cline.
Nevertheless, the lack of hg. R1a-M417 and sizeable Pre-Yamnaya-related ancestry in the sampled Pontic forest-steppe Eneolithic populations (represented exclusively by two samples from Dereivka ca. 3600-3400 BC) would leave open the interesting possibility that a similar ancestry got to the forest-steppe region between modern Poland and Ukraine during the known complex population movements of the Late Eneolithic.
It is known that Corded Ware-derived groups and Steppe Maykop show bad fits for Pre-Yamnaya/Yamnaya ancestry, and also that Steppe Maykop is a potential source of “Steppe-related ancestry” within the Eneolithic CHG mating network of the Pontic-Caspian steppes and forest-steppes. Testing Corded Ware for recent Trypillia and Maykop influences, proper of Late Trypillia and Late Maykop groups in the North Pontic area (such as Zhyvotylivka–Vovchans’k and Gordineşti) side by side with potential Pre-Yamnaya and Yamnaya sources makes thus sense:
Akin to how Yamnaya patrilineal descendants hijacked regional EEF (±CWC) ancestry components mainly through exogamy, dragging them into the different expanding Bell Beaker groups (see below), but kept their Indo-European languages, these hunter-gatherers that admixed with peoples of “Steppe ancestry” were the most likely vector of expansion of Uralic languages in Eastern Europe.
Baltic Corded Ware
One of the most interesting aspects of the results above is the surprising heterogeneity of the different regional groups, which is also reflected in the Y-DNA variability of early Corded Ware samples.
Seeing how Baltic CWC groups, especially the early Latvia_LN sample, show particularly bad fits with the models above, it seems necessary to test how this population might have come to be. My first impression in 2017 was that they could represent early Corded Ware groups admixed with Yamnaya settlers through their interactions along the Dnieper-Dniester corridor.
However, I recently predicted that the most likely admixture leading to their ancestry and PCA cluster would involve a Corded Ware-like group and a group related to sub-Neolithic cultures of eastern Europe, whose best proxy to date are EHG-like Khvalynsk samples (i.e. excluding the outlier with Pre-Yamnaya ancestry, I0434):
Relevant are also the mixtures of Corded Ware from Esperstedt, and particularly those of the sample I0104, which I have repeated many times in this blog I suspected to be influenced by vanguard Yamnaya settlers:
The infeasible models of CWC + Yamnaya_Kalmykia ± Hungary_Baden (see below for Bell Beakers) and the potential cluster formed with other samples from the Baltic suggest that it could represent a more complex set of mixtures with sub-Neolithic populations. On the other hand, its location in Germany, late date (ca. 2500 BC or later), and position in the PCA, together with the good fits obtained for Germany_Beaker as a source, suggest that the increase in Steppe-related ancestry + EEF makes it impossible for the model (as I set it) to directly include Yamnaya_Kalmykia, despite this excess Steppe-related ancestry actually coming from Yamnaya vanguard groups.
These results confirm at least the need to distrust the common interpretation of mixtures including late Corded Ware samples from Esperstedt (giving rise to the “up to 75% Yamnaya ancestry of CWC” in the 2015 papers) as representative of the Corded Ware culture as a whole, and to keep always in mind that an admixture of European BA groups including Corded Ware Esperstedt as a source also includes East BBC-like ancestry, unless proven otherwise.
Bell Beaker expansion
A hotly (re)debated topic in the past 6 months or so, and for all the wrong reasons, is the origin of the Bell Beaker folk. Archaeology, linguistics, and different Y-chromosome bottlenecks clearly indicate that Bell Beakers were at the origin of the North-West Indo-European expansion in Europe, while the survival of Corded Ware-related groups in north-eastern Europe is clearly related to the expansion of Uralic languages.
Nevertheless, every single discarded theory out there seems to keep coming back to life from time to time, and a new wave of interest in “Bell Beaker from the Single Grave culture” somehow got revived in the process, too, because this obsession – unlike the “Bell Beakers from Iberia Chalcolithic” – is apparently acceptable in certain circles, for some reason.
This success in ascertaining a closer Beaker source is probably due to the physical isolation of the specific groups (related to Germany_Beaker, Netherlands_Beaker, and NE_Mediterranean_Beaker samples, respectively) after their migration into regions dominated by peoples without Steppe-related ancestry. Furthermore, Celtic-speaking populations expanding with Urnfield south of the Pyrenees also show a good fit with a source close to France_Beaker.
So I decided to test sampled Bell Beaker populations, to see if it could shed light to the most likely source population of individual Beaker groups and the direction of migration within Central Europe, i.e. roughly eastwards or westwards. As it was to be expected for closely related populations (see the relevant discussion here), an attempt to offer a simplistic analysis of direction based on formal stats does not make any sense, because most of the alternative hypotheses cannot be rejected:
Not only because of the similar values obtained, but because it is absurd to take p-values as a measure of anything, especially when most of these conflicting groups with slightly ‘better’ or ‘worse’ p-values represent multiple different mixtures of the type (Yamnaya + EEF) + (Corded Ware + EEF ± Yamnaya), impossible to distinguish without selecting proper, direct ancestral populations…
A further example of how explosive the Bell Beaker expansion was into different territories, and of their extensive local admixture, is shown by the unsuccessful attempt by Olalde et al. (2018) to obtain an origin of the EEF source for all Beaker groups (excluding Iberian Beakers):
Now, there is a simpler way to understand what kind of Steppe-related ancestry is proper of Bell Beakers. I tested two simple models for some Beaker groups: Yamnaya + Hungary Baden vs. Corded Ware + GAC Poland. After all, the Bell Beaker folk should prefer a source more closely related to either Yamnaya Hungary or Central European Corded Ware:
The admixed Yamnaya samples from Hungary that will hopefully be published soon by the Jena Lab will most likely further improve these fits, especially in combination with intermediate Chalcolithic populations of the Middle and Upper Danube and its tributaries, to a point where there will be an absolute chronological and geographical genomic trail from the fully Yamnaya-likeYamnaya settlers from Hungary to all North-West Indo-European-speaking groups of the Early Bronze Age.
The only difference between groups will be the gradual admixture events of their source Beaker group with local populations on their expansion paths, including peoples of mainly EEF, CWC+EEF, or CWC+EEF+Yamnaya related ancestry. There is ample evidence beyond ancestry models to support this, in particular continued Y-DNA bottlenecks under typical Yamnaya paternal lineages, mainly represented by R1b-L51 subclades.
European Early Bronze Age
European EBA groups that might show conflicting results due to multiple admixture events with Corded Ware-related populations are the Únětice culture and the Nordic Late Neolithic.
The results for Únětice groups seem to be in line with what is expected of a Central European EBA population derived from Bell Beakers admixed with surrounding poulations of East Bell Beaker and/or late (Epi-)Corded Ware descent.
Potential models of mixture for Nordic Late Neolithic samples – despite the bad fits due to the lack of direct ancestral CWC and BBC groups from Denmark – seem to be impossible to justify as derived exclusively from Single Grave or (even less) from Battle Axe peoples, supporting immigration waves of Bell Beakers from the south and further admixture events with local groups through maritime domination.
Balkans Bronze Age
The potential origin of the typical Corded Ware Steppe-related ancestry in the social upheaval and population movements of the Dnieper-Dniester forest-steppe corridor during the 4th millennium BC raises the question: how much do Balkan Bronze Age groups owe their ancestry to a population different than the spread of Pre-Yamnaya-like Suvorovo-Novodanilovka chieftains? Furthermore, which Bronze Age groups seem to be more likely derived exclusively from Pre-Yamnaya groups, and which are more likely to be derived from a mixture of Yamnaya and Pre-Yamnaya? Do the formal stats obtained correspond to the expected results for each group?
Since the expansion of hg. I2a-L699 (TMRCA ca. 5500 BC) need not be associated with Yamnaya, some of these values – together with the assessment of each individual archaeological culture – may question their origin in a Yamnaya-related expansion rather than in a Khvalynsk-related one.
NOTE. These are the last ones I was able to test yesterday, and I have not thought these models through, so feel free to propose other source and target groups. In particular, complex movements through the North Pontic area during the Late Eneolithic would suggest that there might have been different Steppe-ancestry-related vs. EEF-related interactions in the north-west and west Pontic area before and during the expansion of Yamnaya.
One of the key Indo-European populations that should be derived from Yamnaya to confirm the Steppe hypothesis, together with North-West Indo-Europeans, are Proto-Greeks, who will in turn improve our understanding of the preceding Palaeo-Balkan community. Unfortunately, we only have Mycenaean samples from the Aegean, with slight contributions of Steppe-related ancestry.
Still, analyses with potential source populations for this Steppe ancestry show that the Yamnaya outlier from Bulgaria is a good fit:
The comparison of all results makes it quite evident the why of the good fits from (Srubnaya-related) Bulgaria_MLBA I2163 or of Sintashta_MLBA relative to the only a priori reasonable Yamnaya and Catacomb sources: it is not about some hypothetical shared ancestor in Graeco-Aryan-speaking East Yamnaya– or even Catacomb-Poltavka-related groups, because all available Yamnaya-related peoples are almost indistinguishable from each other (at least with the sampling available today). These results reflect a sizeable contribution of similar EEF-related populations from around the Carpathians in both Steppe-related groups: Corded Ware and Yamnaya settlers from the Balkans.
In hobby ancestry magic, as in magic in general, it is not about getting dubious results out of thin air: misdirection is the key. A magician needs to draw the audience attention to ‘remarkable’ ancestry percentages coupled with ‘great’ (?) p-values that purportedly “prove” what the audience expects to see, distracting everyone from the true interesting aspects, like statistical design, the data used (and its shortcomings), other opposing models, a comparison of values, a proper interpretation…you name it.
I reckon – based on the examples above – that the following problems lie at the core of bad uses of qpAdm:
In the formal aspect, the poor understanding of what p-values and other formal stats obtained actually mean, and – more importantly – what they don’t mean. The simplistic trend to accept results of a few analyses at face value is necessarily wrong, in so far as there is often no proper reasoning of what is being assessed and how, and there is never a previous opinion about what could be expected if the alternative hypotheses were true.
In the interpretation aspect, the poor judgement of accompanying any results with simplistic, superficial, irrelevant, and often plainly wrong archaeological or linguistic data selected a posteriori; the inclusion of some racial or sociopolitical overtones in the mixture to set a propitious mood in the target audience; and a sort of ritualistic theatrics with the main theme of ‘winning’, that is best completed with ad hominems.
If you get rid of all this, the most reasonable interpretation of the output of a model proposed and tested should be similar to Nick Patterson’s words in his explanation of qpWave and qpAdm use:
Here we see that, at least in this analysis there are reasonable models with CordedWareNeolithic is a mix of either WHG or LBKNeolithic and YamnayaEBA. (…) The point of this note is not to give a serious phylogenetic analysis but the results here certainly support a major Steppe contribution to the Corded Ware population, which is entirely concordant with the archaeology [?].
Very far, as you can see, from the childish “Eureka! I proved the source!”-kind of thinking common among hobbyists.
The Mycenaean case is an illustrative example: if the Yamnaya outlier from Bulgaria were not available, and if one were not careful when designing and assessing those mixture models, the interpretation would range from erroneous (viz. a Graeco-Aryan substrate, as I initially thought) to impossible (say, inventing migration waves of Sintashta or Srubnaya peoples into Crete). The models presented above show that a contribution of Yamnaya to Mycenaeans couldn’t be rejected, and this alone should have been enough to accept Yamnaya as the most likely source population of “Steppe ancestry” in Proto-Greeks, pending intermediate samples from the Balkans. In other words, one could actually find that ‘the best’ p-values for source populations of Mycenaeans is a combination of modern Poles + Turks, despite the impracticality of such a model…
I haven’t been able to reproduce results which supposedly showed that Corded Ware is more likely to be derived from (Pre-)Yamnaya than other source population, or that Corded Ware is better suited as the ancestral population of Bell Beakers. The analyses above show values in line with what has been published in recent scientific papers, and what should be expected based on linguistics and archaeology. So I’ll go out on a limb here and say that it’s only through a careful selection of outgroups and samples tested, and of as few compared models as possible, that you could eventually get this kind of results and interpretation, if at all.
Whether that kind of special care for outgroups and samples is about (a) an acceptable fine-tuning of the analyses, (b) a simplistic selection dragged from the first papers published and applied indiscriminately to all models, or (c) cherry picking analyses until results fit the expected outcome, is a question that will become mostly irrelevant when future publications continue to support an origin of the expansion of ancient Indo-European languages in Khvalynsk- and Yamnaya-related migrations.
Feel free to suggest (reasonable) modifications to correct some of these models in the comments. Also, be sure to check out other values such as proportions, SD or SNPs of the different results that I might have not taken into account when assessing ‘good’ or ‘bad’ fits.
Over the past week or so, since the publication of new Corded Ware samples in Narasimhan, Patterson et al. (2019) and after finding out that the R1a-M417 star-like phylogeny may have started ca. 3000 BC, I have been ruminating the relevance of contradictory data about the Ukraine_Eneolithic_o sample from Alexandria, its potential wrong radiocarbon date, and its implications for the Indo-European question.
How many other similar ‘controversial’ samples are there which we haven’t even considered? And what mechanisms are in place to control that the case of Hajji_Firuz_CA I2327 is not repeated?
Ukraine Eneolithic outlier I6561
It was not the first time that I (or many others) have alternatively questioned its subclade or its date, but the contradictory data seem to keep piling up. We can still explain all these discrepancies by assuming that the radiocarbon date is correct – seeing how it is a direct and newly reported lab analysis – because it is an isolated individual from a poorly sampled region, so he may actually be the first one to show features proper of later Corded Ware-related samples.
The individual seems to be especially relevant for the Indo-European and Uralic homeland question. The last one to mention this sample in a publication was Anthony (2019), who considered it in common with two other Eneolithic samples from Dereivka to show how Anatolian farmer-related ancestry first appeared in the recently opened CHG mating network of the Pontic-Caspian steppes and forest-steppes during the Middle Eneolithic, after the expansion of Khvalynsk:
The currently oldest sample with Anatolian Farmer ancestry in the steppes in an individual at Aleksandriya, a Sredni Stog cemetery on the Donets in eastern Ukraine. Sredni Stog has often been discussed as a possible Yamnaya ancestor in Ukraine (Anthony 2007: 239- 254). The single published grave is dated about 4000 BC (4045–3974 calBC/ 5215±20 BP/ PSUAMS-2832) and shows 20% Anatolian Farmer ancestry and 80% Khvalynsk-type steppe ancestry (CHG&EHG). His Y-chromosome haplogroup was R1a-Z93, similar to the later Sintashta culture and to South Asian Indo-Aryans, and he is the earliest known sample to show the genetic adaptation to lactase persistence (I3910-T). Another pre-Yamnaya grave with Anatolian Farmer ancestry was analyzed from the Dnieper valley at Dereivka, dated 3600-3400 BC (grave 73, 3634–3377 calBC/ 4725±25 BP/ UCIAMS-186349). She also had 20% Anatolian Farmer ancestry, but she showed less CHG than Aleksandriya and more Dereivka-1 ancestry, not surprising for a Dnieper valley sample, but also showing that the old fifth-millennium-type EHG/WHG Dnieper ancestry survived into the fourth millennium BC in the Dnieper valley (Mathieson et al. 2018).
The main problem is that this sample has more than one inconsistent, anachronistic data compared to its reported precise radiocarbon date ca. 4045–3974 calBCE (5215±20BP, PSUAMS-2832). I summarized them on Twitter:
First known R1a-M417 sample, with subclade R1a-Y26 (Y2-), with formation date and TMRCA ca. 2750 BC (CI 95% ca. 3750–1950 BC), and proper of much later Steppe_MLBA bottlenecks. The closest available sample would be the Poltavka outlier of hg. R1a-Z94 (ca. 2700 BC), from a mixed cemetery that could belong to a later (likely Abashevo) layer; the closest related subclade is probably found in sample I12450 of Butkara_IA (ca. 800 BC).
NOTE. The formation date of upper clade R1a-Z93 is estimated ca. 3000 BC, with a CI 95% ca. 3550–2550 BC, suggesting that the actual TMRCA range for the subclade has most likely a lower maximum formation date than estimated with the available samples under Y3.
Ancestry and PCA cluster like Steppe_MLBA (see PCA below), different from neighbouring Sredni Stog samples of the roughly coetaneous Dereivka site (ca. 3600-3400 BC), and from a later Yamnaya sample from Dereivka (ca. 2800 BC), even more shifted toward WHG-related ancestry.
Allele for lactase persistence (I3910-T), found only much later among Bell Beakers, and still later in Sintashta and Steppe_MLBA samples. This suggests a strong selection in northern Europe and South Asia stemming from steppe-related (and not forest-steppe-related) peoples, postdating the age of massive Indo-European migrations.
My impression is that the Hajji_Firuz Chalcolithic outlier, initially dated ca. 5900-5500 BC, had much less reason to be questioned than this sample, since Pre-Yamnaya ancestry was (and apparently is still) believed by members of the Reich Lab to have come from south of the Caucasus, and to have arrived around that time or earlier to the North Caspian steppe, i.e. before the 5th millennium BC.
The formation date of its initially reported haplogroup, R1b-Z2103, is ca. 4100 BC (CI 95% 4800-3500 BC), which seems also roughly compatible with that date and site – at least as compatible as R1a-Y3(xY2) is for ca. 4000 BC -, so it could have been interpreted as a migrant from the South Caspian region, potentially related to Proto-Anatolians, especially before the description of the Caucasus genetic barrier in Wang et al (2018). For some reason, though, the Hajji_Firuz sample was questioned, but this one didn’t even merited an interrogation mark.
All in all, my guess is that genomic data of I6561 would have been a priori more compatible with a later period, during the expansion of East Corded Ware groups: at least Middle Dnieper culture, potentially Multi-Cordoned Ware culture, but most likely a Srubnaya-related one, given the most likely SNP mutation and TMRCA date, and the haplogroup variability found in the few samples available from that culture.
I tried to start a thread on the possibility that the radiocarbon date was wrong, and IF it were, how likely it would be that formal stats could actually show this, or how could we automatically prevent ancestry magicfiascos.
In other words: if this guy were a Srubnaya-related individual actually dated e.g. ca. 1700 BC, and someone would try to ‘prove’ – based on the current open source tools alone – that he was the ancestor of expanding peoples of the 4th and 3rd millennium BC (i.e. Balkan outliers, Yamnaya, Corded Ware, you name it), could these results be formally challenged?
I was hoping for some original brainstorming where people would propose crazy, essentially impossible to understand statistical models, say plotting dozens of well-studied mutations of different geographically related ancient samples with their reported dates, to visually highlight samples that don’t exactly fit with such a feature-based time series analysis; I mean, the kind of theoretical models I wouldn’t even be able to follow after the first two tweets or so. I didn’t receive an answer like that, but still:
Is it possible, with the currently available tools in population genomics, to tell whether this sample is ancestral to or derived from other Steppe-related populations, before the date is tested again? And how certain would these tests be…?
The question in this case is more theoretical, though. IF this case were wrongly 14C-dated, would it be possible to detect this e.g. by assessing the number of mutations (like LP and the subclade) and the type of ancestry that shouldn't be there? More or less as w/ I2327
Yfull dates are likely underestimated. I generally just multiply by 1.25. So, the subclade for this sample doesn't seem out of place. My opinion is that Sintashta and Andronovo don't come from CWC due to dated splits, etc., but formed in Eastern Europe.
I have nothing to add to these answers, because I agree that all contradictory data are circumstancial.
The current absolute lack of this kind of validity checks for ancestry models is disappointing, though, and leaves the so-called outliers in a dangerous limbo between “potentially very interesting samples” and “potentially wrongly dated samples”. Radiocarbon date is thus – together with compatibility of population source in terms of archaeological cultures and their potential relationship – a necessary variable to take into account in any statistical design: an error in one of these variables means a catastrophic error in the whole model.
For example, in these qpAdm models, I assumed Srubnaya, Ukraine_Eneolithic_outlier, and Bulgaria_MLBA samples were roughly coetaneous and potentially related to the Srubnaya-Sabatinovka–Noua cultural horizon, hence stemming from a source close to:
Abashevo-like individuals (whose best proxy to date should be Poltavka_outlier I0432) potentially admixed with Poltavka-like herders; or
Potapovka-like individuals potentially admixed with Catacomb-like peoples (whose best proxy until recently were probably Yamnaya_Kalmykia*).
Apart from the lack of more models for comparison (I’m not going to dedicate more time to this), the results can’t be interpreted without a proper sampling and context, either, because (1) Poltavka_o may actually be from a much later group closely related to Srubnaya; (2) Bulgaria_MLBA is only one sample; and (3) there are only two samples from Potapovka; so the models here presented are basically useless, as many similar models that have been tested looking just for a formal “best fit”.
So feel free to chime in and contribute with ideas as to how to detect in the future whether a sample is ancestral to or derived from others. I will post here informative answers from Twitter, too, if there are any. I don’t think a discussion about the potentially wrong date in this specific sample is very useful, because this seems impossible to prove or disprove at this point. Just what tools or data would you use to at least try and assess whether samples are compatible with its reported date or not – preferably in some kind of automated sieve that takes dozens or hundreds of samples into account.
On the bright side, there is so much more than formal stats to arrive to relevant inferences about prehistoric populations, their movements and languages. That’s why I6561 didn’t matter for the conclusion by Anthony (2019) that it was the R1b-rich Eneolithic Don-Volga-Caucasus region the most likely Indo-Anatolian and Late Proto-Indo-European homeland, due to the creation of a wide Eneolithic mating network with extended exogamy practices, where Y-chromosome bottlenecks seem to be one of the main genomic data to take into account from the Neolithic to the Middle Bronze Age.
And that is the same reason why it doesn’t matter that much for the Proto-Indo-European or Uralic question for me, either.
NOTE. For direct access to Narasimhan, Patterson et al. (2019), visit this link courtesy of the first author and the Reich Lab.
I am currently not on holidays anymore, and the information in the paper is huge, with many complex issues raised by the new samples and analyses rather than solved, so I will stick to the Indo-European question, especially to some details that have changed since the publication of the preprint. For a summary of its previous findings, see the book series A Song of Sheep and Horses, in particular the sections from A Clash of Chiefs where I discuss languages and regions related to Central and South Asia.
I have updated the maps of the Preshistory Atlas, and included the most recently reported mtDNA and Y-DNA subclades. I will try to update the Eurasian PCA and related graphics, too.
NOTE. Many subclades from this paper have been reported by Kolgeh (download), Pribislav and Principe at Anthrogenica on this thread. I have checked some out for comparison, but even if it contradicted their analyses mine would be the wrong ones. I will upload my spreadsheets and link to them from this page whenever I find the time.
I think the Narasimhan, Patterson et al. (2019) paper is well-balanced, and unexpectedly centered – as it should – on the spread of Yamnaya-related ancestry (now Western_Steppe_EMBA) as the marker of Proto-Indo-European migrations, which stretched ca. 3000 BC “from Hungary in the west to the Altai mountains in the east”, spreading later Indo-European dialects after admixing with local groups, from the Atlantic to South Asia.
I.1. East or West PIE?
I expected Afanasievo to show (1) R1b-L23(xZ2103, xL51) and (2) R1b-L51 lineages, apart from (3) the known R1b-Z2103 ones, pointing thus to an ancestral PIE community before the typical Yamnaya bottlenecks, and with R1b-L51 supporting a connection with North-West Indo-European. The presence of some samples of hg. Q pointed in this direction, too.
However, Afanasievo samples show overwhelmingly R1b-Z2103 subclades (all except for those with low coverage), all apparently under R1b-Z2108 (formed ca. 3500 BC, TMRCA ca. 3500 BC), like most samples from East Yamnaya.
This necessarily shifts the split and spread of R1b-L23 lineages to Khvalynsk/early Repin-related expansions, in line with what TMRCA suggested, and what advances by Anthony (2019) and Khokhlov (2018) on future samples from the Reich Lab suggest.
NOTE. A new issue of Wekʷos contains an abstract from a relevant paper by Blažek on vocabulary for ‘word’, including the common NWIE *wrdʰo-/wordʰo-, but also a new (for me, at least) Northern Indo-European one: *rēki-/*rēkoi̯-, shared by Slavic and Tocharian.
The fact that bottlenecks happened around the time of the late Repin expansion suggests that we might be able to see different clans based on the predominant lineages developing around the Don-Volga area in the 4th millennium BC. The finding of Pre-R1b-L51 in Lopatino (see below), and of a Catacomb sample of hg. R1b-Z2103(Z2105-) in the North Caucasus steppe near Novoaleksandrovskij also support a star-like phylogeny of R1b-L23 stemming from the Don-Volga area.
NOTE. Interestingly, a dismissal of a common trunk between Tocharian and North-West Indo-European would mean that shared similarities between such disparate groups could be traced back to a Common Late PIE trunk, and not to a shared (western) Repin community. For an example of such a ‘pure’ East-West dialectal division, see the diagram of Adams & Mallory (2007) at the end of the post. It would thus mean a fatal blow to Kortlandt’s Indo-Slavonic group among other hypothetical groupings (remade versions of the ancient Centum-Satem division), as well as to certain assumptions about laryngeal survival or tritectalism that usually accompany them. Still, I don’t think this is the case, so the question will remain a linguistic one, and maybe some similarities will be found with enough number of samples that differentiate Northern Indo-Europeans from the East Yamna/Catacomb-Poltavka-Balkan_EBA group.
I.2. Expansion or resurgence of hg. Q1b?
Haplogroup Q1b-Y6802(xY6798) seems to be the main lineage that expanded with Afanasievo, or resurged in their territory. It’s difficult to tell, because the three available samples are family, and belong to a later period.
NOTE. I have finally put some order to the chaos of Q1a vs. Q1b subclades in my spreadsheet and in the maps. The change of ISOGG 2016 to 2017 has caused that many samples reported as of Q1 subclades from papers prepared during the 2017-2018 period, and which did not provide specific SNP calls, were impossible to define with certainty. By checking some of them I could determine the specific standard used.
In favour of the presence of this haplogroup in the Pre-Yamnaya community are:
The statement by Anthony (2019) that Q1a [hence maybe Q1b in the new ISOGG nomenclature] represented a significant minority among an R1b-rich community.
The sample found in a Sintastha WSHG outlier (see below), of hg. Q1b-Y6798, and the sample from Lola, of hg. Q1b-L717, are thus from other lineage(s) separated thousands of years from the Afanasievo subclade, but might be related to the Khvalynsk expansion, like R1b-V1636 and R1b-M269 are.
These are the data that suggest multiple resurgence events in Afanasievo, rather than expanding Q1b lineages with late Repin:
Overwhelming presence of R1b in early Yamnaya and Afanasievo samples; one Q1(xQ1b) sample reported in Khvalynsk.
The three Q1b samples appear only later, although wide CI for radiocarbon dates, different sites, and indistinguishable ancestry may preclude a proper interpretation of the only available family.
Nevertheless, ancestry seems unimportant in the case of Afanasievo, since the same ancestry is found up to the Iron Age in a community of varied haplogroups.
Another sample of hg. Q1b-Y6802(xY6798) is found in Aigyrzhal_BA (ca. 2120 BC), with Central_Steppe_EMBA (WSHG-related) ancestry; however, this clade formed and expanded ca. 14000 BC.
One Afanasievo sample is reported as of hg. C in Shin (2017), and the same haplogroup is reported by Hollard (2014) for the only available sample of early Chemurchek to date, from Kulala ula, North Altai (ca. 2400 BC).
I.3. Agricultural substrate
Evidence of continuous contacts of Central_Steppe_MLBA populations with BMAC from ca. 2100 BC on – visible in the appearance of Steppe ancestry among BMAC samples and BMAC ancestry among Steppe pastoralists – supports the close interaction between Indo-Iranian pastoralists and BMAC agriculturalists as the origin of the Asian agricultural substrate found in Proto-Indo-Iranian, hence likely related to the language of the Oxus Civilization.
The recent Hermes et al. (2019) supports the early integration of pastoralism and millet cultivation in Central Asia (ca. 2700 BC or earlier), with the spread of agriculture to the north – through the Inner Asian Mountain Corridor – being thus unrelated to the Indo-Iranian expansions, which might support independent loans.
However, compared to the huge number of parallel shared loans between NWIE and Palaeo-Balkan languages in the European substratum, Indo-Iranians seem to have been the first borrowers of vocabulary from Asian agriculturalists, while Proto-Tocharian shows just one certain related word, with phonetic similarities that warrant an adoption from late Indo-Iranian dialects.
The finding of hg. (pre-)R1b-PH155 in a BMAC sample from Dzharkutan (to the west of Xinjiang) together with hg. R1b in a sample from Central Mongolia previously reported by Shin (2017) support the widespread presence of this lineage to the east and west of Xinjiang, which means it might have become incorporated to Indo-Iranian migrants into the Xiaohe horizon, to the Afanasievo-Chemurchek-derived groups, or the later from the former. In other words, the Island Biogeography Theory with its explanation of founder effects might be, after all, applicable to the whole Xinjiang area, not only during the Chemurchek – Tianshan-Beilu – Xiaohe interaction.
Of course, there is no need for too complicated models of haplogroup resurgence events in Central and South Asia, seeing how the total amount of hg. R1a-L657 (today prevalent among Indo-Aryan speakers from South Asia) among ancient Western/Central_Steppe_MLBA-related samples amounts to a total of 0, and that many different lineages survived in the region. Similar cases of haplogroup resurgence and Y-DNA bottleneck events are also found in the Central and Eastern Mediterranean, and in North-Eastern Europe. From the paper:
[It] could reflect stronger ecological or cultural barriers to the spread of people in South Asia than in Europe, allowing the previously established groups more time to adapt and mix with incoming groups. A second difference is the smaller proportion of Steppe pastoralist– related ancestry in South Asia compared with Europe, its later arrival by ~500 to 1000 years, and a lower (albeit still significant) male sex bias in the admixture (…).
II. R1b-Beakers replaced R1a-CWC peoples
II.1. R1a-M417-rich Corded Ware
Newly reported Corded Ware samples from Radovesice show hg. R1a-M417, at least some of them xZ645, ‘archaic’ lineages shared with the early Bergrheinfeld sample (ca. 2650 BC) and with the coeval Esperstedt family, hence supporting that it eventually became the typical Western Corded Ware lineage(s), probably dominating over the so-called A-horizon and the Single Grave culture in particular. On the other hand, R1a-Z645 was typical of bottlenecks among expanding Eastern Corded Ware groups.
NOTE. The fact that Esperstedt is closely related geographically and in terms of ancestry to later Únětice samples further complicates the assumption that Únětice is a mixture of Bell Beakers and Corded Ware, being rather an admixture of incoming Bell Beakers with post-Yamnaya vanguard settlers who admixed with Corded Ware (see more on the expansion of Yamnaya ancestry). In other words, Únětice is rather an admixture of Yamnaya+EEF with Yamnaya+(CWC+EEF).
On Ukraine_Eneolithic I6561
If the bottlenecks are as straightforward as they appear, with a star-like phylogeny of R1a-M417 starting with the Pre-Corded Ware expansion, then what is happening with the Alexandria sample, so precisely radiocarbon dated to ca. 4045-3974 BC? The reported hg. R1a-M417 was fully compatible, while R1a-Z645could be compatible with its date, but the few positive SNPs I got in my analysis point indeed to a potential subclade of R1a-Z94, and I trust more experienced hobbyists in this ‘art’ of ascertaining the SNPs of ancient samples, and they report hg. R1a-Z93 (Z95+, Y26+, Y2-).
Seeing how Y-DNA bottlenecks worked in Yamnaya-Afanasievo and in Corded Ware and related groups, and if this sample really is so deep within R1a-Z93 in a region that should be more strongly affected by the known Neolithic Y-chromosome bottlenecks and forest-steppe ecotone, someone from the lab responsible for this sample should check its date once again, before more people keep chasing their tails with an individual that (based on its derived SNPs’ TMRCA) might actually be dated to the Bronze Age, where it could make much more sense in terms of ancestry and position in the PCA.
EDIT (14 SEP 2019): … and with the fact that he is the first individual to show the genetic adaptation for lactase persistence (I3910-T), which is only found later among Bell Beakers, and much later in Sintashta and related Steppe_MLBA peoples (see comments below).
This is also evidenced by the other Ukraine_Eneolithic (likely a late Yamnaya) sample of hg. R1b-Z2103 from Dereivka (ca. 2800 BC) and who – despite being in a similar territory 1,000 years later – shows a wholly diluted Yamnaya ancestry under typically European HG ancestry, even more so than other late Sredni Stog samples from Dereivka of ca. 3600-3400 BC, suggesting a decrease in Steppe ancestry rather than an increase – which is supposedly what should be expected based on the ancestry from Alexandria…
Like the reported Chalcolithic individual of Hajji Firuz who showed an apparently incompatible subclade and Yamnaya ancestry at least some 1,000 years before it should, and turned out to be from the Iron Age (see below), this may be another case of wrong radiocarbon dating.
NOTE. It would be interesting, if this turns out to be another Hajji Firuz-like error, to check how well different ancestry models worked in whose hands exactly, and if anyone actually pointed out that this sample was derived, and not ancestral, to many different samples that were used in combination with it. It would also be a great control to check if those still supporting a Sredni Stog origin for PIE would shift their preference even more to the north or west, depending on where the first “true” R1a-M417 samples popped up. Such a finding now could be thus a great tool to discover whether haplogroup-based bias plays a role in ancestry magic as related to the Indo-European question, i.e. if it really is about “pure statistics”, or there is something else to it…
II.1. R1b-L51-rich Bell Beakers
The overwhelming majority of R1b-L51 lineages in Radovesice during the Bell Beaker period, just after the sampled Corded Ware individuals from the same site, further strengthen the hypothesis of an almost full replacement of R1a-M417 lineages from Central Europe up to southern Scandinavia after the arrival of Bell Beakers.
Yet another R1b-L151* sample has popped up in Central Europe, in the individual classified as Bilina_BA (ca. 2200-800 BC), which clusters with Bell Beakers from Bohemia, with the outlier from Turlojiškė, and with Early Slavs, suggesting once again that a group of central-east European Beakers represented the Pre-Proto-Balto-Slavic community before their spread and admixture events to the east.
The available ancient distribution of R1b-L51*, R1b-L52* or R1b-L151* is getting thus closer to the most likely origin of R1b-L51 in the expansion of East Bell Beakers, who trace their paternal ancestors to Yamnaya settlers from the Carpathian Basin:
NOTE. Some of these are from other sources, and some are samples I have checked in a hurry, so I may have missed some derived SNPs. If you send me a corrected SNP call to dismiss one of these, or more ‘archaic’ samples, I’ll correct the map accordingly. See also maps of modern distributionof R1b-M269 subclades.
Before the emergence of Proto-Indo-Iranian, it seems that Pre-Proto-Indo-Iranian-speaking Poltavka groups were subjected to pressure from Central_Steppe_EMBA-related peoples coming from the (south-?)east, such as those found sampled from Mereke_BA. Their ‘kurgan’ culture was dated correctly to approximately the same date as Poltavka materials, but their ancestry and hg. N2(pre-N2a) – also found in a previous sample from Botai – point to their intrusive nature, and thus to difficulties in the Pre-Proto-Indo-Iranian community to keep control over the previous East Yamnaya territory in the Don-Volga-Ural steppes.
We know that the region does not show genetic continuity with a previous period (or was not under this ‘eastern’ pressure) because of an Eastern Yamnaya sample from the same site (ca. 3100 BC) showing typical Yamnaya ancestry. Before Yamnaya, it is likely that Pre-Yamnaya ancestry formed through admixture of EHG-like Khvalynsk with a North Caspian steppe population similar to the Steppe_Eneolithic samples from the North Caucasus Piedmont (see Anthony 2019), so we can also rule out some intermittent presence of a Botai/Kelteminar-like population in the region during the Khvalynsk period.
It is very likely, then, that this competition for the same territory – coupled with the known harsher climate of the late 3rd millennium BC – led Poltavka herders to their known joint venture with Abashevo chiefs in the formation of the Sintashta-Potapovka-Filatovka community of fortified settlements. Supporting these intense contacts of Poltavka herders with Central Asian populations, late ‘outliers’ from the Volga-Ural region show admixture with typical Central_Steppe_MLBA populations: one in Potapovka (ca. 2220 BC), of hg. R1b-Z2103; and four in the Sintashta_MLBA_o1 cluster (ca. 2050-1650 BC), with two samples of hg. R1b-L23 (one R1b-Z2109), one Q1b-L56(xL53), one Q1b-Y6798.
Similar to how the Sintashta_MLBA_o2 cluster shows an admixture with central steppe populations and hg. R1a-Z645, the WSHG ancestry in those outliers from the o1 cluster of typically (or potentially) Yamnaya lineages show that Poltavka-like herders survived well after centuries of Abashevo-Poltavka coexistence and admixture events, supporting the formation of a Proto-Indo-Iranian community from the local language as pronounced by the incomers, who dominated as elites over the fortified settlements.
The Proto-Indo-Iranian community likely formed thus in situ in the Don-Volga-Ural region, from the admixture of locals of Yamnaya ancestry with incomers of Corded Ware ancestry – represented by the ca. 67% Yamnaya-like ancestry and ca. 33% ancestry from the European cline. Their community formed thus ca. 1,000 years later than the expansion of Late PIE ca. 3500 BC, and expanded (some 500 years after that) a full-fledged Proto-Indo-Iranian language with the Srubna-Andronovo horizon, further admixing with ca. 9% of Central_Steppe_EMBA (WSHG-related) ancestry in their migration through Central Asia, as reported in the paper.
The sample from Hajji Firuz, of hg. R1b-Z2103 (xPF331), has been – as expected – re-dated to the Iron Age (ca. 1193-1019 BC), hence it may offer – together with the samples from the Levant and their Aegean-like ancestry rapidly diluted among local populations – yet another proof of how the Late Bronze Age upheaval in Europe was the cause of the Armenian migration to the Armenoid homeland, where they thrived under the strong influence from Hurro-Urartian.
Indus Valley Civilization and Dravidian
A surprise came from the analysis reported by Shinde et al. (2019) of an Iran_N-related IVC ancestry which may have split earlier than 10000 BC from a source common to Iran hunter-gatherers of the Belt Cave.
For the controversial Elamo-Dravidian hypothesis of the Muscovite school, this difference in ancestry between both groups (IVC and Iran Neolithic) seems to be a death blow, if population genomics was even needed for that. Nevertheless, I guess that a full rejection of a recent connection will come down to more recent and subtle population movements in the area.
EDIT (12 SEP): Apparently, Iosif Lazaridis is not so sure about this deep splitting of ‘lineages’ as shown in the paper, so we may be talking about different contributions of AME+ANE/ENA, which means the Elamo-Dravidian game is afoot; at least in genomics:
Would be interesting to see whether proposed deep splitting lineages are symmetrical to ANE or could be re-interpreted as variable mixtures of Dzudzuana/Anatolia_N+ANE+ENA
I shared the idea that the Indus Valley Civilization was linked to the Proto-Dravidian community, so I’m inclined to support this statement by Narasimhan, Patterson, et al. (2019), even if based only on modern samples and a few ancient ones:
The strong correlation between ASI ancestry and present-day Dravidian languages suggests that the ASI, which we have shown formed as groups with ancestry typical of the Indus Periphery Cline moved south and east after the decline of the IVC to mix with groups with more AASI ancestry, most likely spoke an early Dravidian language.
I am wary of this sort of simplistic correlation with modern speakers, because we have seen what happened with the wrong assumptions about modern Balto-Slavic and Finno-Ugric speakers and their genetic profile (see e.g. here or here). In fact, I just can’t differentiate as well as those with deep knowledge in South Asian history the social stratification of the different tribal groups – with their endogamous rules under the varna and jati systems – in the ancestry maps of modern India. The pattern of ancestry and language distribution combined with the findings of ancient populations seem in principle straightforward, though.
The message to take home from Shinde et al. (2019) is that genomic data is fully at odds with the Anatolian homeland hypothesis – including the latest model by Heggarty (2014)* – whose relevance is still overvalued today, probably due in part to the shift of OIT proponents to more reasonable Out-of-Iran models, apparently more fashionable as a vector of Indo-Aryan languages than Eurasian steppe pastoralists?
*The authors listed this model erroneously as Heggarty (2019).
The paper seems to play with the occasional reference to Corded Ware as a vector of expansion of Indo-European languages, even after accepting the role of Yamnaya as the most evident population expanding Late PIE to western Europe – and the different ancestry that spread with Indo-Iranian to South Asia 1,000 years later. However, the most cringe-worthy aspect is the sole citation of the debunked, pseudoscientific glottochronological method used by Ringe, Warnow, and Taylor (2002) to support the so-called “steppe homeland”, a paper and dialectal scheme which keeps being referenced in papers of the Reich Lab, probably as a consequence of its use in Anthony (2007).
On the other hand, these are the equivalent simplistic comments in Narasimhan, Patterson et al. (2019):
The Steppe ancestry in South Asia has the same profile as that in Bronze Age Eastern Europe, tracking a movement of people that affected both regions and that likely spread the unique features shared between Indo-Iranian and Balto-Slavic languages. (…), which despite their vast geographic separation share the “satem” innovation and “ruki” sound laws.
The only academic closely related to linguistics from the list of authors, as far as I know, is James P. Mallory, who has supported a North-West Indo-European dialect (including Balto-Slavic) for a long time – recently associating its expansion with Bell Beakers – opposed thus to a Graeco-Aryan group which shared certain innovations, “Satemization” not being one of them. Not that anyone needs to be a linguist to dismiss any similarities between Balto-Slavic and Indo-Iranian beyond this phonetic trend, mind you.
Even Anthony (2019) supports now R1b-rich Pre-Yamnaya and Yamnaya communities from the Don-Volga region expanding Middle and Late Proto-Indo-European dialects.
So how does the underlying Corded Ware ancestry of eastern Europe (where Pre-Balto-Slavs eventually spread to from Bell Beaker-derived groups) and of the highly admixed (“cosmopolitan”, according to the authors) Sintashta-Potapovka-Filatovka in the east relate to the similar-but-different phonetic trends of two unrelated IE dialects?
A reader commented recently that there is little information about Indo-Europeans from Central and East Asia in this blog. Regardless of the scarce archaeological data compared to European prehistory, I think it is premature to write anything detailed about population movements of Indo-Iranians in Asia, especially now that we are awaiting the updates of Narasimhan et al (2018).
Furthermore, there was little hope that Tocharians would be different than neighbouring Andronovo-like populations (see a recent post on my predicted varied admixture of Common Tocharians), so the history of both unrelated Late PIE languages would have had to be explained by the admixture of Afanasievo-related groups with peoples of Andronovo descent and their acculturation.
This genetic continuity of Tocharians will no doubt help us disentangle a great part the ethnolinguistic history of speakers of the Tocharian branch of Proto-Indo-European, from Pre-Proto-Tocharians of Afanasievo to Common Tocharians of the Late Bronze Age/Iron Age eastern Tian Shan.
NOTE. Tocharian’s isolation from the rest of Late PIE dialects and its early and intense language contacts have always been the key to support an early migration and physical separation of the group, hence the traditional association with Afanasievo, a late Repin/early Yamna offshoot. Even with the current incomplete archaeological and genetic picture, there is no other option left for the expansion of Tocharian.
It is not possible to use the currently available ancestry data to map the evolution of Afanasievo ancestry, lacking a proper geographical and temporal transect of Central and East Asian groups. In spite of this, Ning, Wang, et al. (2019) is a huge leap forward, discarding some archaeological models, and leaving only a few potential routes by which Tocharians may have spread southward from the Altai.
NOTE. I have updated the maps of prehistoric cultures accordingly, with colours – as always – reflecting the language/ancestry evolution of the different groups, even though the archaeological data of some groups of Xinjiang remains scarce, so their ethnolinguistic attribution – and the colours picked for them – remain tentative.
Although [the Xinjiang] route is not uniformly agreed upon (Shelach-Lavi 2009: 134–46), this western transmission has been thought to have passed through eastern Kazakhstan, especially as it is manifest in Semireiche, with Yamnaya, Afanasievo (copper) and Andronovo (tin bronze) peoples (Mei 2000: Fig. 3). From Xinjiang this knowledge has been thought to have traveled through the Gansu Corridor via the Qijia peoples (Bagley 1999) and then into territories controlled by dynastic China. The dating of this process is still a problem, as the sites and their contents in Xinjiang are consistently later than those in Gansu, suggesting that the point of contact was in Gansu and that the knowledge then spread from there westward.
1. Eneolithic Altai
The Afanasievo sites, as they are identified in Mongolia, for instance, make up an Eneolithic culture analogous to that of southern Siberia (3100/2500–2000 BCE) in the Upper Yenissei Valley that is characterized by copper tools and an economy reliant on horse, sheep and cattle breeding as well as hunting. (…) The Afanasievo is best known through study of its burials, which typically include groups of round barrows (kurgans), each up to 12 m in diameter with a stone kerb and covering a central pit grave containing multiple inhumations. In their Siberian context, burial pottery types and styles have suggested contacts with the slightly earlier Kelteminar culture of the Aral and Caspian Sea area.
The Afanasievo culture monuments, located in the northern Altai and in the Minusinsk Basin (the western Sayan), have been seen as analogous evidence for cross-Eurasian exchange. These complexes contain small collections of metal, and many of the items are made of brass, although golden, silver and iron ornaments were also identified. A mere one-fourth of these objects are tools and ornaments, while the rest consist of unshaped remains and semi-manufactured objects. Its metallurgical tradition has recently been dated by Chernykh to as early as 3100 to 2700 BCE (1992),making it more compatible chronologically with the early brass-using sites in Shaanxi mentioned above. Kovalev and Erdenebaatar have excavated barrows in Bayan-Ulgii, Mongolia, that have been carbon-dated to the first half of the third millennium BCE and associated by ceramic types and styles and burial patterns with the Afanasievo (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009: 357–58). These mounded kurgans were covered with stone and housed rectangular, wooden-faced tombs that included Afanasievo-type bronze awls, plates and small “leaf-shaped” knife blades (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009: Figs. 6 and 7).
They also excavated sites belonging to the more recently identified Chemurchek archaeological culture, located in the foothills of the Mongolian Altai (Kovalev 2014, 2015) (Fig. 2.6). These sites are carbon-dated to the same period as the Afanasievo burials or to c. 3100/2500–1800 BCE (six barrows in Khovd aimag and four in Bayan-Ulgo aimag). In the rectangular stone kerbed Chemurchek slab burials (Ulaaanhus sum, Bayan-ul’gi aimag and so forth), bronze items included awls; and at Khovd aimag, Bulgan sum, in addition to stone sculptures, three lead and one bronze ring were excavated (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009: Figs. 2 and 3; Fig. 2.6). Although we will not know if they were produced locally until much further investigation is undertaken, these discoveries do document knowledge of various uses and types of metal objects in western and south central Mongolia. The types of metal items thus far recovered are simple tools (awls) and rings (ornamental?) not unlike those associated with Andronovo archaeological cultures as well.
This is a complex circumstance where archaeological evidence is not complete, but raises very important questions about transmission of metallurgical knowledge to and from areas in present-day China. In the 1970s some Afanasievo mounds were excavated in Central Mongolia by a Soviet–Mongolian expedition led by V. V. Volkov and E. A. Novgorodova (Novgorodova 1989: 81–85). Unfortunately, these mounds did not yield metal objects, only ceramics, but they show that the Afanasievo culture with the Eneolithic metallurgical tradition of manufacturing pure copper items had already moved east at least far as central Mongolia. In 2004, Kovalev and Erdenebaatar investigated a large Afanasievo mound, Kulala ula, in the extreme northwest of Mongolia, near the Russian border (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009). There they found a copper knife and awl (Fig. 2.5). There are five C14 dates on wood, coal and human bones from this mound, which belong to the period 2890–2570 BCE. This shows that the Afanasievo culture were carriers of technology and produced artifacts in the first half of the third millennium BCE and that they also moved south along the foothills of the Mongolian Altai. Afanasievo culture in Altai and the Minusinsk basin is dated by C14 to 3600–2500 BCE (Svyatko et al. 2009; Polyakov 2010). In the north of Xinjiang in the Altai district, several typical egg-shaped vessels and two censers of Afanasievo types were found. Some of these have been obtained from the stone boxes (chambers of megalithic graves of the Chemurchek culture) (Kovalev 2011). Thus, the Afanasievo tradition of pure copper metallurgy must have spread to the northern foothills of the Tienshan Mountains no later than the mid-third millennium BCE. The links with Afanasievo and local cultures adjacent to and south of the mountains into present-day China can now be assumed.
2. Bronze Age Altai
Kovalev and Erdenebaatar (2014a) and later Tishkin, Grushin, Kovalev and Munkhbayar (2015) in Western Mongolia conducted large-scale excavations of megalithic barrows of the Chemurchek culture (dated about 2600–1800 BCE). This peculiar culture appeared in Dzungaria and the Mongolian Altai in the second quarter of the third millennium BCE and for some time existed together with the late Afanasievo culture, as evidenced by the findings of Afanasievo ceramics in Chemurchek graves, in the stone boxes. Unfortunately, in China we do not yet know of any metal object related,without doubt, to the Chemurchek culture. Kovalev, Erdenebaatar, Tishkin and Grushin found several leaden ear rings and one ring of tin bronze in three excavated Chemurchek stone boxes (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2014a; Tishkin et al. 2015). Such lead rings are typical for Elunino culture,which occupied the entire West Altai after 2400–2300 BCE (Tishkin et al. 2015). This culture had developed a tradition of bronze metallurgy with various dopants, primarily tin. Thus, the tradition of bronze metallurgy as early as this time could have penetrated the Mongolian Altai far to the south. In addition, in the Hadat ovoo Chemurchek stone box, Kovalev and Erdenebaatar discovered stone vessels refurbished with the help of copper “patches,” indicating the presence there of metallurgical production (Fig. 2.7) (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2014a). In one of the secondary
Chemurchek graves unearthed by Kovalev and Erdenebaatar in Bayan-Ulgi (2400–2220 BCE), a bronze awl was found (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009). Kovalev and Erdenebaatar also discovered a new culture in the territory of Mongolia (Map 2.3), one that begins immediately after Chemurchek – Munkh-Khairkhan culture (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009, 2014b). To date, about 17 mounds of this culture have been excavated in Khovd, Zavkhan, Khovsgol, Bulgan aimag of Mongolia. This culture dates from about 1800 to 1500 BCE, that is, contemporary with the Andronovo culture. Therefore, the Andronovo culture does not extend far into the territory of Mongolia. Three knives without dedicated handles or stems and five awls have been found in the Munkh-Khairkhan culture mounds (Fig. 2.8). All these products are made of tin bronze. (…) Additionally, eight Late Bronze Age burials (c. 1400–1100 BCE) were unearthed in the Bulgan sum of Khovd aimag and belong to another previously unknown culture called Baitag. And in the Gobi Altai, a new group of “Tevsh” sites dating to the Late Bronze Age were defined in Bayankhongor and South Gobi aimags (Miyamoto and Obata 2016: 42–50). From these Tevsh and Baitag sites, we see the expansion of burial goods to include beads of semiprecious stones (carnelian), bronze beads, buttons and rings and even the famous elaborate golden hair ornaments (Tevsh uul;Bogd sum;Uverkhanagia aimag) from the Baitag barrows (Kovalev and Erdenebaatar 2009: Fig. 5; Miyamoto and Obata 2016).
The major characteristics of Qiemu’erqieke Phase I include:
Burials with two orientations of approximately 20° or 345°.
Rectangular enclosures built using large stone slabs. The size of the enclosure varies from a maximum of 28 x 30 m.*to a minimum of 10.5 x 4.4 m. (Figure 8, Table 2).
*The stone enclosure located near Hayinar is the largest one at approximately 30 x 40 m. based on pacing of the site during a visit by the authors in 2008.
Almost life-sized anthropomorphic stone stelae erected along one side of the stone enclosures (Lin Yun 2008).
Single enclosures tend to contain one or more than one burial, all or some with stone cist coffins.
The cist coffin is usually constructed using five large stone slabs, four for the sides and one on top, leaving bare earth at the base (Zhang Yuzhong 2007). Sometimes the insides of the slabs have simple painted designs (Zhang Yuzhong 2005).
Primary and secondary burials occur in the same grave.
Some decapitated bodies (up to 20) may be associated with the main burial in one cist.
Bodies are commonly placed on the back or side with the legs drawn up.
Grave goods include stone and bronze arrowheads, handmade gray or brown round-bottomed ovoid jars, and small numbers of flat-bottomed jars (Fig. 7).
Clay lamps appear to occur together with roundbottomed jars.
Complex incised decoration on ceramics is common but some vessels are undecorated.
The stone vessels are distinctive for the high quality of manufacture.
Stone moulds indicate relatively sophisticated metallurgical expertise.
Artefacts made from pure copper occur.
Sheep knucklebones (astragali) imply a tradition (as in historical and modern times) of keeping knucklebones for ritual or other purposes. They also indicate the herding of domestic sheep as part of the subsistence economy.
Available evidence suggests that the date range for Qiemu’erqieke Phase I should fall from the later third into the early second millennium BC. There are several reasons to suggest that the time span is around the early second millennium BC. Lin Yun (2008) (…) maintains that the bronze artefacts found in Phase I show a greater sophistication in the level of copper alloy technology than that of the pure copper artefacts common to the Afanasievo tradition. On this basis it might be suggested that the Afanasievo could be considered to be Chalcolithic with a time span across much of the third millennium BC ( Gorsdorf et al. 2004: 86, Fig. 1). Qiemu’erqieke Phase I, however, should more properly be considered as Bronze Age.
Lin Yun also used the bronze arrowhead from burial Ml 7 to narrow down the date of Qiemu’erqieke Phase I. Two arrowheads were found in this burial, one of them leaf shaped with a single barb on the back (Fig. 7:4). A similar arrowhead, together with its casting mould, has been found at the Huoshaogou site of Siba tradition (Li Shuicheng 2005, Sun Shuyun and Han Rufen 1997), in Gansu province, northwest China, dated around 2000-1800 BC (Li Shuicheng and Shui Tao 2000) . This supports a date in the early second millennium BC for the Qiemu’erqieke arrowhead. The painted, round-bottomed jar from the Tianshanbeilu cemetery Qia Weiming, Betts and Wu Xinhua 2008: Fig. 7, bottom left) has been considered as a hybrid between the Upper Yellow River Bronze Age cultures of Siba in northwest China and the steppe tradition of Qiemu’erqieke in west Siberia (Li Shuicheng 1999). If this assumption is correct, the date of Tianshanbeilu, around 2000 BC, can be used as a reference for Qiemu’erqieke Phase I (Jia Weiming, Betts and Wu Xinhua 2008, Lin Yun 2008, Li Shuicheng 1999). Stone arrowheads found in Qiemu’erqieke Phase I also imply that the date is likely to fall within the earlier part of the Bronze Age as no such stone arrowheads have yet been found elsewhere in sites of the Bronze Age in Xinlang dated after the beginning of the second millennium BC.*
*For example Chawuhu and Xiaohe cemeteries (Xinjiang Institute of Archaeology 1999, 2003).
(…) Pottery “oil burners” (goblet-like ceramic vessels, possibly lamps) have been found in three traditions: Afanasievo (Gryaznov and Krizhevskaya 1986:21), Okunevo and Qiemu’erqieke. It is believed that this oil-burner found in Siberia and the Altai is a heritage from the Yamnaya and Catacomb
cultures (Sulimirski 1970: 225, 425; Shishlina 2008:46) in the Caspian steppe further to the west, but does not seem to exist in known Andronovo cultures. The oil-burner tends to disappear after around 2300 BC during the mid-Okunevo period. It is, however, possible that the tradition continues longer in the Qiemu’erqieke sites.
The construction of the stone enclosures also reveals a close connection between Qiemu’erqieke Phase I and the mid and late Okunevo tradition (Sokolova 2007). Slab built stone enclosures emerged in both the Okunevo and Afanasievo traditions (Gryaznov and Krizhevskaya 1986:15-23, Kovalev 2008, Sokolova 2007, Anthony 2007:310, Koryakova and Epimakhov 2007). In the early Afanasievo the enclosure is circular with no cist coffin (Anthony 2007:310, Gryaznov and Krizhevskaya 1986:20), but in the early stage of the Okunevo square stone enclosures with a single cist burial are dominant. Square or rectangular stone enclosures are a marked feature of Qiemu’erqieke Phase I, suggesting temporal relationships between Qiemu’erqieke Phase I and the Okunevo. In Okunevo chronological group II, possibly with influence from the Anfanasievo, circular stone enclosures appeared in combination with rectangular enclosures within individual cemeteries, referred to by Sokolova (2007: table 2) as hybrid examples. By Okunevo chronological group III, rectangular stone slab enclosures with multi-burials emerged again. This is the dominant form in Qiemu’erqieke Phase I. Okunevo burial traditions changed again to single cist burials in the late stage around chronological group V ( Sokol ova 2007). A specific mortuary rite of decapitated burials exists in both the Qiemu’erqieke and Okunevo traditions (Sokolova 2007, Chen Kwang-tzuu and Hiebert 1995), as does the occasional occurrence of painted designs on the interior of the slabs forming the cists ( e.g., Khavrin 1997: 70, fig. 4; 77: tab. IV.5). Based on these comparisons, the date of Qiemu’erqieke Phase I may well parallel that of the Okunevo from at least chronological group II around 2400 BC (Gorsdorf et al. 2004: fig. 1).
In addition to the pottery making tradition, the anthropomorphic stone stelae may also have earlier antecedents. In the Okunevo assemblage there are anthropomorphic stelae that are longer, thinner and more abstract than those of Qiemu’erqieke. There is no indication of such stelae in the Afanasievo tradition (Gryaznov and Krizhevskaya 1986:15-23). However, further to the west, anthropomorphic stone stelae are associated with the Kemi-Oba and Yamnya cultures around the third millennium BC (Telegin and Mallory 1994; Figure 13). Some major characteristics of these stelae such as the icons on the front face of the stelae (Telegin and Mallory 1994:8-9) also appear on stelae found in Qiemu’erqieke Phase I. Recalling the oil burners that may have been inherited from the Yamnya culture and which are found in the Afansievo, Okunevo and Qiemu’erqieke Phase I, it migh t be possible to speculate that Qiemu’erqieke Phase I has its origins even earlier than the first half of the third millennium BC. This idea has also been suggested by Kovalev ( 1999).
Despite the affinities with the Okunevo cultural tradition, Qiemu’erqieke Phase I appears to be a discrete regional variant. The ceramic assemblage shows traits unique to this cluster of sites, while the anthropomorphic stelae are also distinctive markers of this tradition.
It also offered a full summary of findings from prehistoric sites of Xinjiang related to the arrival of a cultural package from the Altai region, ultimately connected to Afanasievo. Relevant excerpts include the following (emphasis mine):
In Bronze Age Xinjiang, burials were diverse but also show some common features between different geographic sections. The main three mountains, including Kunlun Mountains, Tian Shan (mountains) and Altai Mountains, enclose the Tarim Basin, and the Dzungaria Basin, but leave the eastern part of the Tarim Basin and the south-eastern part of the Dzungaria Basin open (with easy access to the surroundings). The Hami Basin is located at the transitional area, connecting the two basins. Burials are mainly spread along the edge of the mountain ranges.
3.1. The Lop Nur region
In the Lop Nur region, the Xiaohe cemetery (2000-1450 BCE) and the Gumugou cemetery (1900-1800 BCE) had many common features shared, and so is the Keliyahe northern cemetery:
Cemeteries were located in sandy areas;
Rectangular/boat-shaped wooden coffins with monuments of wooden planks or poles;
Coffins had no bottoms;
The dead were placed lying straight on the back;
The dead were commonly buried in single graves.
The Gumugou cemetery contained six special sun-radiating-spokes burial pattern in addition to the normal burials, which were similar to the wooden coffin graves of the Xiaohe cemetery.
NOTE. For more on Xiaohe and Gumugou, see the recent post on Proto-Tocharians. See other papers on the Andronovo horizon for other Early to Middle Bronze Age cultural groups less clearly associated with the Xiaohe horizon, like Hazandu, Xintala, or the Chust culture.
An assemblage of early bronzes had been recovered from northwestern Xinjiang and the periphery of Dzungaria 准噶尔 Basin. It comprises a variety of utilitarian tools and weapons, and a small number of apparels. These artifacts bear the stamps of Andronovo Culture in form, artifact type and decorative pattern. The metallographic analysis on selected artifacts indicates that they comprise mainly of tin-bronzes that contain 2–10% of tin. Moreover, the chemical compositions of these artifacts are similar to that of the Andronovo Culture. Latter date (first half of the 1st millennium BC) artifacts of the assemblage include a small number of arsenic bronzes. In all, during the period between the mid-2nd and mid-1st millennium BC, copper and bronze artifacts coexisted in this region, albeit tin-bronze comprised the majority. The composition of alloy did not show significant change over time. Some colleagues pointed out that the Nulasai 奴拉赛 site at Nileke 尼勒克 County in the Yili 伊犁 River basin of Xinjiang was the pioneer in the use of “sulphuric ore–ice copper–copper”technology. It is also the only early smelting site in Euro-Asia that arsenic ore was added to deliberately produce an alloy
The Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area is located at the eastern part of Tian Shan. The area is divided in a northern basin and a southern basin by the east-west stretch of the Tian Shan. In the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area, the main type of burials were earth-pit graves in the early Bronze Age, and burials of stone-pit with barrows became more common in the late Bronze Age. The Hami-Tianshan-Beilu cemetery is a representative of the earth-pit graves. The features of the Hami-Tianshan-Beilu cemetery (2000-1500 bce) here were:
Rectangular earth pit graves;
The dead were often in a hocker position lying on one side;
Commonly a single dead in one grave.
The Hami-Wubu cemetery (earlier than 1000 bce) and the Yanbulake cemetery (1200-600 bce) are representatives of another common earth-pit graves. Common features here were:
Rectangular earth pits, with two storeys and/or roofed with wooden boards;
The dead was placed in a hocker position lying on one side;
Mostly a single dead in one grave.
Later there appeared more stone-pit graves in this area, and the features can be summarized as:
Round burial mounds, commonly constructed by stones or a mix of stones and earth;
Burial mounds with a sunken top or a normal (dome) top;
The diameter of the burial mounds varied between 3 and 25.4 m (but not necessarily limited in this scope);
Circular or rectangular stone kerbs;
Rectangular stone pits, constructed by earth, or stones, or a mix of earth and stones;
Rectangular stone pits contained wooden coffins (represented by the Yiwu Baiqi’er cemetery).
In the Hami Basin, the Bronze Age cemeteries show common burial features like earth pits and hocker position of the dead. With similar pottery styles in the Hami-Tianshan-Beilu cemetery to those in the Machang and Siba cultures (Xinjiang 2011: 17), it suggests possible cultural influence or people’s migrating from the Hexi Corridor in the east.
In the Balikun Grassland, burials in an earlier time contained mostly earth-pit graves but also a small number of stone-pit graves. The pebbles were imbedded in the floors and the walls of the graves in a rectangular shape, e.g. the Balikun-Nanwan cemetery (1600-1000 bce). In a later time, there appeared huge burial mounds with a sunken top, and with the diameters of the burial mounds varying from 3 to 25.4 m, e.g. the Balikun-Dongheigou cemetery and the Balikun-Heigouliang cemetery. The Yiwu-Bai’erqi and the Yiwu-Kuola cemeteries contained either round stone burial mounds or circular stone kerbs on the ground surface. Considering the three burial elements including burial mounds, stone pits and circular kerbs, the later period cemeteries in the Balikun Grassland were actually similar to cemeteries from the southern edge of the Altai Mountain area.
The Nanwan 南湾 cemetery site at Kuisu 奎苏 Town, Balikun 巴里坤 (1600–1100 BC) also yielded an assemblage of early bronzes. The style of its early phase artifacts is similar to that of the burials distributed in the North Tianshan Route. Some sorts of cultural connection should have existed between the two.
The dates of Yanbulake 焉不拉克 Culture (1300–700 BC) are comparatively late. Its metallurgy was a continuation of the western China tradition. Artifact types include a variety of utilitarian tools, weapons and apparels.
3.3. The Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan
Turpan Basin is located at the western part of the Hami Basin, and lies at the southern edge of the eastern Tian Shan. In the Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan area, the main representative of the Bronze Age cemeteries is the Yanghai Nr.1 cemetery. The features here were:
Elliptic earth pit graves, commonly covered by round logs on the top;
Some graves contained burial beds made of round logs or reeds;
The dead were mainly placed lying straight on the back;
Mostly a single dead in one grave.
In Iron Age, the stone burials became dominant, but the stone burials varied in different regions of the Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan area. Graves containing burial mounds, stone pit, and circular stone kerbs are represented by the Shanshan-Ertanggou cemetery, the Tuokexun-Alagou cemetery, the Urumqi-Chaiwobu cemetery and the Urumqi-Yizihu-Sayi cemetery, etc. The stone funeral construction features here are similar to those contemporary cemeteries in the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area.
3.4. The southern edge of the western and middle part of Tian Shan
In the southern edge of the western and middle part of Tian Shan area, the main representatives of the late Bronze Age cemeteries are the Hejing-Chawuhu Nr.4 cemetery (around 1000-500 bce), the Hejing-Xiaoshankou cemetery, the Baicheng-cemetery, etc. The main burial features of the late Bronze Age and the early Iron Age cemeteries (see Fig.12) here were:
Burial mounds, constructed by stones or a mix of stones and earth;
Irregular circular or rectangular stone kerbs;
Stone pit graves in a bell-shape or a rectangular shape;
Stone pit graves constructed by imbedding pebbles or stone slabs in walls and floors;
The dead were often placed lying on their back with bent legs;
The dead were commonly reburied a second time with multiple burials.
From the late Bronze Age to the early Iron Age in this area, the burial traditions tended to be in a more varied way. In the stone burials with stone kerbs, there is a mixture of stone pit and earth pit graves. The burial features of the Iron Age cemeteries in this section were similar to those contemporary both in the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area and in the Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan area.
The Chawuhu 察吾呼 Culture (1100–500 BC) distributes on the foothills between the middle section of the Tianshan Mountain Ranges and Tarim River. Its bronze assemblage comprises a variety of weapons, utilitarian tools and small apparels. They show no apparent temporal change in form and type through the four cultural phases. In addition, bronzes bear the Chawuhu characteristics were found in Hejing 和静, Baicheng 拜城 and Luntai 轮台 (Bügür). Yet, sites distributed along the Tarim River, such as Heshuo 和硕, Kuga 库车and Aksu 阿克苏, yielded remains of a bronze culture different from that of Chawuhu. Bronzes recovered include double-eared socketed axe, arrowheads, awls, knives, needles and bracelets. Their absolute dates have been estimated to be earlier than that of Chawuhu.
A typical Bronze Age cemetery from the Pamir Plateau area is the Tashenku’ergan-Xiabandi cemetery (around 1000-500 bce). The burial features here were:
Mainly inhumations, but also a few cremations;
Burial mounds, constructed of stones;
Irregular circular or rectangular stone kerbs;
Mostly a single dead in one grave;
The dead was placed in a hocker position lying on one side.
The adoption of burial customs from the east supports the migration of Afanasievo-related peoples from the Tian Shan up to the Pamir Plateau, strongly influencing the findings of the Xiabandi cemetery, which has been dated from an early Bronze Age phase (ca. 1500-300 BC) to a late date up to ca. 600 BC.
While it is today unclear how far the Afanasievo admixture reached into the western Xinjiang, it seems that the Pamir Plateau remained culturally connected to neighbouring Andronovo-related cultures in pottery and metallurgical innovations, hence their language probably belonged – during most part of the Bronze and Iron Ages – to the Indo-Iranian branch, even though specific dialects might have changed with each new attested group.
In particular, it is possible that the early Andronovo groups related to the Xiaohe Horizon spoke Indo-Aryan or West Iranian dialects, while Saka-related groups replaced them – or an intermediate Tocharian-speaking group – with East Iranian dialects. A close interaction with West Iranian would justify the known ancient borrowings of Tocharian, although they could also be explained by contacts with Chust-related groups farther west. For more on this, see Ged Carling’s work on the different layers of Iranian loans.
In the early Bronze Age, there are distinct regional differences in the burial customs in and surrounding the Tarim Basin. At the southern edge of the Altai Mountains area, the burial customs included stone burial mounds, stone pit graves, circular or rectangular stone kerbs and stone human sculptures; the dead were placed lying straight on the back. In the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area, the burial customs included earth pit graves; the dead were placed in a hocker position lying on one side. In the Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan area, the burial customs included earth pit graves; the dead were placed lying straight on the back. In the Lop Nur region, the burial customs included wooden coffins buried in sand; the dead were placed lying straight on the back.
But from the late Bronze Age to the early Iron Age, there was a common shift in burial customs from earth pit graves to stone burials in the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area and in the Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan area. The main features of the stone burials include stone burial mounds, circular or rectangular stone kerbs, and the stone pit graves in the cemeteries. Similar stone burial customs commonly appeared at the southern edge of the western and middle part of Tian Shan area and the Pamir Plateau area in Iron Age. The burial features in most areas are in a mixture of both the earth pit graves and stone pit graves, especially in the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area and the Turpan Basin-the middle part of Tian Shan area.
Historians of metallurgy conducted metallographic analyses on a sample of 234 metal specimens recovered from 16 localities in eastern Xinjiang. They concluded that the metallurgic industry in eastern Xinjiang could be roughly partitioned into three developmental phases. The early phase is represented by the burials distributed in the North Tianshan Route. The majority of the metal assemblage was tin-bronzes; however, copper and arsenic-bronzes maintained considerable proportions. The middle phase is represented by the burials at Yanbulake. During this phase, tin-bronze still maintained the majority; the proportion of arsenic-bronze increased, and some of them were high arsenic-bronzes. The late phase is represented by the burials at Heigouliang 黑沟梁. The composition of lead increased in the bronze alloy in the expense of arsenic. In addition, this phase witnessed the appearance of high tin-bronze that composed up to 16% of tin and the appearance of brass, that is, an alloy of copper and zinc. The bronze alloy consistently contained significant amount of impurities regardless of temporal difference. Casting and forging technologies coexisted throughout the three phases. The early bronzes (2000–500 BC) of eastern Xinjiang, in general, contained arsenic; however, the composition of arsenic was usually under 8%, but a few artifacts contained more than 20% arsenic. In all, arsenic had long been used in the alloy-forming of the early bronzes in eastern Xinjiang. Consequently, arsenic-bronzes were widely found in the prehistoric archaeology of the region. The artifact types, chemical compositions and manufacture techniques of the bronze assemblage of the burials of the North Tianshan Route are similar to those of Siba Culture, indicating that eastern Xinjiang had played a significant role in the East-West interactions.
An assemblage of early bronzes had been recovered from northwestern Xinjiang and the periphery of Dzungaria 准噶尔 Basin. It comprises a variety of utilitarian tools and weapons, and a small number of apparels. These artifacts bear the stamps of Andronovo Culture in form, artifact type and decorative pattern. The metallographic analysis on selected artifacts indicates that they comprise mainly of tin-bronzes that contain 2–10% of tin. Moreover, the chemical compositions of these artifacts are similar to that of the Andronovo Culture. Latter date (first half of the 1st millennium BC) artifacts of the assemblage include a small number of arsenic-bronzes. In all, during the period between the mid-2nd and mid-1st millennium BC, copper and bronze artifacts coexisted in this region, albeit tin-bronze comprised the majority.
Tocharians in population genomics
Prehistoric population movements between the Altai and the Tian Shan are difficult to pinpoint, not the least because of the division of these territories among three different countries and their archaeological teams, only recently (more) open to the international scholarship.
The available schematic archaeological picture, where migrations could only be roughly inferred, has been recently updated to a great extent by Ning, Wang et al. (2019), whose genetic analysis of the samples is as thorough as anyone could have asked for, with a level of detail which matches the complex genetic picture of the region by the Iron Age.
As a summary, here is what they described about the samples from Shirenzigou (ca 400-200 BC), corresponding to the Iron Age populations of the Hami Basin-the Balikun Grassland area, and closely related to the preceding Yanbulake Culture:
As shown in Figure S3, the Steppe_MLBA populations including Srubnaya, Andronovo, and Sintashta were shifted toward farming populations compared with Yamnaya groups and the Shirenzigou samples. This observation is consistent with ADMIXTURE analysis that Steppe_MLBA populations have an Anatolian and European farmer-related component that Yamnaya groups and the Shirenzigou individuals do not seem to have. The analysis consistently suggested Yamnaya-related Steppe populations were the better source in modeling the West Eurasian ancestry in Shirenzigou.
We continued to use qpAdm to estimate the admixture proportions in the Shirenzigou samples by using different pairs of source populations, such as Yamnaya_Samara, Afanasievo, Srubnaya, Andronovo, BMAC culture (Bustan_BA and Sappali_ Tepe_BA) and Tianshan_Hun as the West Eurasian source and Han, Ulchi, Hezhen, Shamanka_EN as the East Eurasian source. In all cases, Yamnaya, Afanasievo, or Tianshan_Hun always provide the best model fit for the Shirenzigou individuals, while Srubnaya, Andronovo, Bustan_BA and Sappali_Tepe_BA only work in some cases.
In the PCA, ADMIXTURE, outgroup f3 statistics [see Figure S4], as well as f4 statistics (Table S3), we observed the Shirenzigou individuals were closer to the present day Tungusic and Mongolic-speaking populations in northern Asia than to the populations in central and southern China, suggesting the northern populations might contribute more to the Shirenzigou individuals. Based on this, we then modeled Shirenzigou as a three-way admixture of Yamnaya_Samara, Ulchi (or Hezhen) and Han to infer the source from the East Eurasia side that contributed to Shirenzigou. We found the Ulchi or Hezhen and Han-related ancestry had a complicated and unevenly distribution in the Shirenzigou samples. The most Shirenzigou individuals derived the majority of their East Eurasian ancestry from Ulchi or Hezhen-related populations, while the following two individuals M820 and M15-2 have more Han related than Ulchi/ Hezhen-related ancestry
It is unclear whether the Chemurchek population will show a sizeable local contribution from neighbouring groups. The fact that Okunevo shows 20% Yamnaya-related ancestry strongly supports the nature of neighbouring stone-grave-building peoples of the Altai and the northern Tian Shan as mostly Afanasievo-like, and the apparent lack of contributions of Srubna/Andronovo-like ancestry in the early Hami-Balikun stone burial builders also speaks for radical population replacement events reaching the areas south of Tian Shan, at least initially.
While ancestry cannot settle linguistic questions, it seems that nomads of the Gansu and Qinghai grasslands retained an ancestry close to Andronovo, whereas nomads of the Hami Basin-Balikun grasslands and related populations of Xinjiang remained closely related to Afanasievo. This doesn’t preclude that the ancestors of the Yuezhi became acculturated under the influence of peoples from eastern Xinjiang, but all data combined suggest an isolation of both populations – relative to other groups and to each other – and it is therefore more likely that they spoke Indo-Iranian-related languages rather than a language of the Tocharian branch.
In an interesting twist of events, despite the initially reported hg. R1b and Q, Tocharians from Shirenzigou actually show a haplogroup diversity comparable to that attested in other late Iron Age populations: a similar diversity is seen, for example, among Germanic, Baltic, and Balto-Finnic peoples of the Baltic region; among East Germanic or Scythians of the north Pontic region; or among Mediterranean peoples sampled to date. Iron Age peoples show thus a complex sociopolitical setting that overcame the previous patrilineal homogeneity of Bronze Age expansions.
M15-2 (with Han-related ancestry) is of the rare haplogroup Q1a-M120, while the samples with highest Steppe_MLBA-related ancestry are of hg. R1b-PH155, which points to their recent origin among Yuezhi, or to Hun-related populations showing an admixture related to the proto-historic nomads of the Gansu and Qinghai grasslands.
The expansion of Chemurchek-related peoples was probably associated more with hg. Q1a (dubious if it’s a Pre-ISOGG 2017 nomenclature, hence possibly Q1b), a haplogroup that might be found in Khvalynsk as a “significant minority” according to Anthony (2019), and it might also be attested in sampled individuals from Afanasievo in its late phase. This might be, therefore, a case similar to the early expansion of Indo-Europeans with R1b-V1636 lineages through the Volga – North Caucasus region, and of the later expansion with I2a-L699 lineages into the Balkans.
Haplogroup Q1a2-M25 is found in individual X3, whose Steppe ancestry is likely a combination of Afanasievo plus Andronovo-like ancestry heavily admixed with Hezhen/Ulchi-like populations, in line with the expected recent contacts with the neighbouring Xiongnu, Yuezhi, and other population movements affecting eastern Xinjiang.
Sample M4, which packs the most Afanasievo-like ancestry, is of hg. R1a-Z645, which – like sample M8R1 of hg. O – is most likely related to haplogroup resurgence events of local populations, which left the predominant Afanasievo-like admixture brought by builders of stone burials essentially intact, evidenced by the almost 100% of R1a found in the Xiaohe cemetery – and in most of the early Andronovo horizon – and among expanding Kangju and Wusun, as well as by the prevalence of hg. O among sampled East Asian populations.
A question that will only be answered with more samples is how and when the prevalent R1b-L23 and Q1b lineages among Afanasievo-related peoples began to be replaced to reach the high variability seen in Shirenzigou. Given the pastoralist nature of peoples around Tian Shan, the succeeding expansions of Proto-Tocharians, and the late isolation of different Common Tocharian groups, it is more than likely that this variability represents a late and local phenomenon within Xinjiang itself.
An early split of Pre-Proto-Tocharians with R1b-rich Afanasievo peoples migrating into Central Asia, evolving into these builders of stone burial constructions of Xinjiang, with a center of gravity during the Late Bronze Age and Iron Age in the Hami Basin-Balikun Grassland area, where the Shirenzigou nomads have been sampled.
A late, long-term admixture of R1b-rich Poltavka herders of Yamnaya ancestry with incoming R1a-rich Abashevo chiefs of Corded Ware ancestry to form the Sintashta-Potapovka-Filatovka community, representing the transition of a conservative Pre-Proto-Indo-Iranian into the heavily Uralic-influenced Proto-Indo-Iranian community (see here).
Just like the East Bell Beaker expansion from Yamnaya Hungary has confirmed that Corded Ware peoples did not partake in spreading Indo-European languages (spreading Uralic languages instead), data on the expansion of Tocharian speakers from Afanasievo to the Tian Shan was always there; population genomics is merely helping to connect the dots.
In summary, genetic research is supporting the expected linguistic expansions of the Neolithic and Bronze Age step by step, slowly but surely.
The current state of research reveals no firm evidence of crop cultivation in the region before the LBA (Piličiauskas et al. 2017b; Grikpėdis and Motuzaitė-Matuzevičiūtė 2018). Current archaeobotanical data firmly suggest the adoption of farming during the EBA to LBA transition. (…) By comparison, in other parts of N Europe subsistence economy of CWC groups was characterized by strong emphasis on animal husbandry, however crop cultivation was also used (Kirleis 2019; Vanhanen et al. 2019). CWC sites from the Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden and Germany reveal evidence of the cultivation of H. vulgare var. nudum, T. dicoccum, Linum usitatissimum (flax) (Oudemans and Kubiak-Martens 2014; Beckerman 2015; Kubiak- Martens et al. 2015).
It is (…) striking that earliest evidence of farming in the SE Baltic only appears in the deposits dating over 4,000 years later.
The environmental conditions of the SE Baltic presented a significant barrier and numerous genetic adaptations were required before farming could successfully spread into the region (Motuzaitė-Matuzevičiūtė 2018). Adaptations through seasonality changes usually play a major role in adapting to new environments (Sherratt 1980). These include establishing genetic controls on seasonality, especially flowering times and length of growing season (Fuller and Lucas 2017). Therefore, it could be argued that farming was only firmly established in the region around the LBA after several crop species, primarily barley, became adapted to the local environment and the risk of crop failure was reduced (Motuzaitė-Matuzevičiūtė 2018). The transition to farming was further aided by the climate warming which started around 750 cal bc (Gaigalas 2004; Sillasoo et al. 2009). In such a case the fragmented evidence from earlier periods is a likely illustration of the early attempts that have failed.
The LBA agrarian intensification of the SE Baltic was most likely not an isolated case but rather a part of broader social, economic and technological developments sweeping across northern Europe.
Evidence from sites across the Baltic Sea shows that the end of the EBA (ca. 1200 bc onward, after Gustafsson 1998) was marked by intensification of agriculture and changes in landscape management. This coincides with the agricultural developments observed on the SE fringes of the Baltic Sea and provides a context for the eventual arrival of farming, followed shortly by the rapid agrarian intensification of the region. Looking just south from the study region, we see that data from northern Poland reveal a sharp increase in both scale and intensity of agricultural activities during the EBA to LBA transition. Pollen records show significant environmental changes starting around 1400/1300 bc (Wacnik 2005, 2009; Wacnik et al. 2012). These were mostly a result of development of a production economy based on plant cultivation and animal raising. Even more significant changes during this period are visible in southern Scandinavia. Pollen records from S Sweden present evidence for an opening up of the forested landscape and the creation of extensive grasslands (Berglund 1991; Gustafsson 1998). Major changes are also apparent in archaeobotanical assemblages.
In general, during the end of the EBA northern Europe underwent a massive transformation of the farming system moving towards a more intensified agriculture aimed at surplus production. However, this should not be regarded as an isolated occurrence, but rather as a radical change of the whole society which took place throughout Europe (Gustafsson 1998). Intensification of contacts across northern Europe have integrated previously isolated regions into a wider network (Kristiansen and Larsson 2005; Wehlin 2013; Earle et al. 2015). It is therefore likely that farming spread into the SE fringes of the Baltic Sea alongside other innovations including malleable technologies and developments of social structure.
The presence and scale of intensifying connections is well illustrated by SE Baltic archaeological material.
Firstly, the appearance of stone ship graves has served as a basis for locating the Nordic communication zones. Construction of such graves was limited to the coastal regions of Kurzeme, Saaremaa Island and the Northern Estonian coast near Tallinn and Kaliningrad (Graudonis 1967; Okulicz 1976; Lang 2007) and is generally regarded as a foreign burial custom which was common in Gotland and along the Scandinavian coast. This is also supported by the Staldzene and Tehumardi hoards (Vasks and Vijups 2004; Sperling 2013), which contained artefacts typical of Nordic culture.
Secondly, studies of early metallurgy and its products, both imported and created in the SE Baltic, have concluded that metal consumption in the LBA had more than doubled compared to the EBA (Sidrys and Luchtanas 1999). The SE Baltic region lacks any metal artefact types exclusive to the region and metal objects are dominated by artefact types originating from Nordic and Lusatian cultures (Sidrys and Luchtanas 1999; Lang 2007; Čivilytė 2014). This indicates that even after metal crafting reached the region, the technology remained exclusively of foreign origin. Rarely identifiable negatives of clay casting moulds were also made for artefacts of Nordic influence, such as Mälar type axes or Härnevi type pins (Čivilytė 2014; Sperling 2014).
Lastly, emerging social diversification was accompanied by the establishment of the first identifiable settlement pattern. Settlement locations were strategically chosen alongside economically significant routes, primarily on the coast and near the Daugava River. Hilltop areas were prioritized over the lowlands, and excavations on these sites have often revealed several stages of enclosure construction (Graudonis 1989). This has also been explained as a reflection of intensifying communication networks between Nordic and Lusatian cultures, and the indigenous communities of the SE Baltic.
Kortlandt’s position regarding Balto-Slavic is that it is in fact simply ‘Proto-Baltic’, a language that would stem thus from an Indo-Baltic branch, which would be originally represented by Corded Ware, and which would have split suddenly in its three dialects without any common development between branches, including some intermediate hypothetic “Centum” Temematic substrate that would explain everything his model can’t…
The site of Turlojiškė in southern Lithuania (ca. 908-485 BC) – which Mittnik et al. (2018) classified as “Bronze Age, Trzciniec culture?” – can be more reasonably considered a settlement of incoming intensive agrarian communities under the influence of the Lusatian culture, like the Narkūnai hilltop settlement in eastern Lithuania (ca. 800–550 BC), or the enclosed hilltop settlement of Kukuliškiai in western Lithuania (ca. 887-506 BC), just 300 m east of the Baltic Sea, also referred to in the paper.
While the dates of sampled individuals include a huge span (ca. 2100-600 BC), those with confirmed radiocarbon dates are more precisely dated to the LBA-EIA transition. More specifically, the first clearly western influence is seen in the early outlier Turlojiškė1932 (ca. 1230-920 BC), while later samples and samples from Kivutkalns, in Latvia, show major genetic continuity with indigenous populations, compatible with the new chiefdom-based systems of the Baltic and the known lack of massive migrations to the region.
Contacts with western groups of the Nordic Bronze Age and Lusatian cultures intensified – based on existing archaeological and archaeobotanical evidence – in the LBA, especially from ca. 1100/1000 BC on, and Baltic languages seem to have thus little to do with the disappearing Trzciniec culture, and more with the incoming Lusatian influence.
Both facts – more simple dialectalization scheme, and more recent Indo-European expansion to the east – support the spread of Proto-Baltic into the south-east Baltic area precisely around this time, and is also compatible with an internal separation from Proto-Slavic during the expansion of the Lusatian culture.
Even though comparative grammar is traditionally known to be wary of resorting to language contamination or language contact, the truth is that – very much like population genomics – trying to draw a ‘pure’ phylogenetic tree for Balto-Slavic has never worked very well, and the most likely culprit is the Slavic expansion to the south-east into territories which underwent different and complex genetic and linguistic influences for centuries (see here and here).
The relative chronology of hydrotoponymy in the East Baltic shows that essentially all ancestral layers to the north of the Daugava must have been Uralic, while roughly south of the Daugava they seem to be mostly Indo-European. The question remains, though, when did this Indo-European layer start?
Interestingly, though, it is well known that some modern Baltic toponyms can’t be easily distinguished from the Old European layers – unlike those of Iberia or the British Isles, which show some attested language change in the proto-historical and historical period – which may imply both (a) continuity of Baltic languages since the EBA, but also that (b) the Baltic naming system is a confounding factor in assessing the ancestral expansion of Old European. The latter is becoming more and more likely with each new linguistic, archaeological, and genetic paper.
In summary, a survival of a hypothetical late Trzciniec language in Lithuania or as part of the expanding Lusatian community is not the most economic explanation for what is seen in genetics and archaeology. On the other hand, the cluster formed by the Tollense samples (a site corresponding to the Nordic Bronze Age), the Turlojiškė outlier, and the early Slavs from Bohemia all depict an eastward expansion of Balto-Slavic languages from Central Europe, at the same time as Celtic expanded to the west with the Urnfield culture.
NOTE. Another, more complicated question, though, is if this expanding Proto-Baltic language accompanying agriculture represents the extinct
early Proto-Baltic dialect from which Balto-Finnic borrowed words, hence Proto-Baltic proper expanded later, or if this early Baltic branch could have been part of the Trzciniec expansion. Again, the answer in archaeological and genetic terms seems to be the former. For a more detailed discussion of this and more, see European hydrotoponymy (IV): tug of war between Balto-Slavic and West Uralic.
As I said recently, the slight increase in Corded Ware-like ancestry among Iron Age Estonians, if it were statistically relevant and representative of an incoming population – and not just the product of “usual” admixture with immediate neighbours – need not be from south-eastern Corded Ware groups, because the Akozino-Malär cultural exchange seems to have happened as an interaction in both directions, and not just as an eastward migration imagined by Carpelan and Parpola.
Archaeology and genetics could actually suggest then (at least in part) an admixture with displaced indigenous West Uralic-speaking peoples from the south-west, to the south of the Daugava River, at the same time as the Indo-European – Uralic language frontier must have shifted to its traditional location, precisely during the LBA / EIA transition around 1000 BC.
The tight relationship of the three communities also accounts for the homogeneous distribution of expanding haplogroup N1c-VL29 (possibly associated with Akozino warrior-traders) in the whole Baltic Sea area, such as those appearing in the Estonian Iron Age samples, which have no clearly defined route(s) of expansion.