A Fateful Encounter in Luoyang
In the third year of Tianbao era (744 AD), the Tang Empire appeared prosperous and peaceful on the surface. The renowned poet Li Bai, having lost imperial favor, departed Chang’an in melancholy only to serendipitously meet Du Fu in Luoyang. Their legendary friendship blossomed as they traveled through Henan, later joined by the frontier poet Gao Shi. While these literary giants composed verses and drank wine, other figures were unwittingly preparing the stage for catastrophe.
The 86-year-old statesman He Zhizhang retired to his hometown, unaware he had mere months to live. Emperor Xuanzong and his beloved Yang Yuhuan enjoyed their palace life, oblivious that within a year their scandalous love affair would become public knowledge. Meanwhile, Yang Guozhong—Yang Yuhuan’s obscure brother—stood on the precipice of unforeseen political ascent.
The Illusion of Prosperity
The Tianbao era (742-756) marked both the zenith and the beginning of the Tang Dynasty’s decline. In 742, Emperor Xuanzong inaugurated his new reign period with spectacular celebrations at Guangyun Pond near Chang’an. Three hundred boats representing different provinces paraded local specialties before the emperor, symbolizing the empire’s wealth and unity. The waterways newly connected to Jiangnan finally solved Chang’an’s chronic grain shortages, bringing 4 million dan (approx. 240,000 tons) of rice annually.
Yet beneath this prosperity lurked systemic decay. The equal-field system (juntianzhi), inherited from Northern Wei reforms in the 5th century, had sustained Tang’s military and fiscal structures. This land distribution system granted peasants state-owned plots in exchange for taxes (zu-yong-diao) and military service (fubing system). By the 8th century, land scarcity and elite encroachment had crippled this foundation. Official records from 754 AD reveal a shocking reality: of 52.88 million registered citizens, only 7.66 million bore tax obligations.
The Military Time Bomb
Facing border threats from Tibetans, Khitans, and Türgesh, Emperor Xuanzong replaced the collapsing fubing conscription with professional armies. His 742 AD solution—appointing ten regional military governors (jiedushi)—unwittingly planted the seeds of rebellion. These commanders gained unprecedented autonomy over local finances, administration, and military forces.
An Lushan, the ambitious son of a Sogdian father and Turkic shaman mother, rose rapidly through this system. By 755 AD, he commanded three northeastern circuits—controlling nearly one-third of Tang’s standing army. Chancellor Li Linfu’s policy of appointing non-Han generals (to prevent them becoming political rivals) backfired spectacularly after his death in 753 AD. His successor Yang Guozhong’s aggressive policies against An Lushan triggered the catastrophic An Shi Rebellion (755-763).
The Collapse of an Era
The rebellion exposed Tang’s institutional rot. The equal-field system’s collapse had eroded both tax bases and military recruitment. Xuanzong’s stopgap measures—centralizing fiscal extraction under Li Linfu and Yang Guozhong while decentralizing military power—created fatal contradictions.
When An Lushan’s forces swept through the Central Plains in 755 AD, they shattered the illusion of perpetual Tang supremacy. The bloodshed claimed millions of lives, displaced countless families, and permanently weakened imperial authority. Though suppressed after eight years, the rebellion accelerated regional militarization, foreshadowing the late Tang warlord period.
Legacy of a Broken System
The Tang’s golden age demonstrated how institutional innovations could propel empires to greatness—and how their obsolescence could precipitate decline. The equal-field system that empowered early Tang rulers became an unworkable relic in a commercializing economy with growing private landownership.
Modern parallels abound: from fiscal systems strained by demographic changes to decentralized authorities challenging central governance. The Tianbao crisis reminds us that even the most splendid civilizations rest upon institutional foundations requiring constant renewal. As poets Li Bai and Du Fu wandered Henan unaware of the coming storm, so too might societies today overlook gathering crises beneath surface prosperity.
The Tang’s tragedy wasn’t merely individual failures—whether Xuanzong’s indulgence, Yang Guifei’s influence, or An Lushan’s ambition—but systemic collapse. Its warning echoes across centuries: no empire, however glorious, is immune to the consequences of institutional decay.