The reign of Ogodei began with the quriltai of 1229, when he was selected Qa’an of the Yeke Monggol Ulus. Although Tolui had every right to make the case that he was a more qualified candidate, he remained true to his word and supported his brother’s ascent to power.
At the quriltai, Ogodei performed a perfunctory refusal of his nomination, saying that his brothers and uncles were far worthier. He noted that Tolui was worthier and that, as the youngest son of Chinggis Khan, it was the yosun or custom that he take his father’s place and possessions. As the Mongols viewed the conquests as the possession of Chinggis Khan, everything should belong to Tolui. Ogodei also noted that Tolui knew the yosun and yasa (laws, ordinances) better than he. Naturally, the assembled commanders and princes refused and insisted on his selection as the successor of Chinggis Khan. In the end, the princes all removed their hats and placed their belts on their shoulders, a traditional demonstration of obeisance, and placed him on the throne. It was done quite literally as Chaghadai took his right arm as Tolui grasped the left. Temuge Otchigin, their uncle, then lifted him by the belt and placed him on the throne. Then, the princes came forward one by one and bowed before him and called him Qa’an.1
As many of the sources were written with the patronage of rulers descended from Tolui, one must also be careful with their account of Tolui. Professor Peter Jackson has amply demonstrated that the Toluid sources took pains to demonstrate Toluid legitimacy, particularly with the dissolution of the empire.2 Some events, however, may also suggest that the Toluids were never comfortable with Ogodei’s ascension. In Juwayni’s seemingly innocuous account, Ogodei protests his appointment by saying, ‘Ulugh Noyan [Tolui] is the youngest son of the eldest ordu [sic] and was ever in attendance on Chingiz-Khan [sic] day and night, morning and evening, and has seen, and heard, and learnt all his yasas and customs. Seeing that that all these are alive and here present, how may I succeed to the Khanate?’3
As Isenbike Togan has indicated, this particular passage suggests that Tolui had dynastic claims to the throne, even though succession was not based on ultimogeniture.4 Although Juwayni wrote his history after the sack of Baghdad in 1258, one must wonder where he learned of this statement as Juwayni himself was not present at the 1229 quriltai. While it is a bit of a throwaway line demonstrating Ogodei’s humbleness and bolstering later Toluid legitimacy, this segment also hints at Tolui’s own pretensions.
In addition to raising Ogodei to the throne, Tolui turned over the keshig and the central state (qol-un ulus-i), demonstrating that not only his regency had ended, but also any claim to the throne.5 The fact that Tolui once possessed the keshig is not an indication that he sought power. As the youngest son of Chinggis Khan and Borte, he inherited the ordo or camp of Chinggis Khan, to which the keshig belonged and which it protected. It is also a clear indication that Tolui served as regent. The allocation of the ‘central ulus’ is somewhat curious as Ogodei’s own ulus was located between the Emil and Qobuk Rivers, not in Mongolia. One may conjecture that the qol-un ulus was perhaps dalay land, meant to support the imperial government as it included the Orkhon River basin and was more centrally located to rule the new empire than the Kerulen-Onan River basin. In effect, Tolui handed Ogodei the ‘reins of government’.6
Ogodei’s own refusal of the throne was not just humility, but part of a court drama to demonstrate that he took the throne only because the rest of the elite wanted him to rule. Yet, by refusing the throne, one was always taking a calculated risk since it might not be offered again, as Raymond of Toulouse learned much to his chagrin during the First Crusade.7 While Ogodei may have had his private doubts and Tolui may have also desired it, there was little chance that the commanders and companions of Chinggis Khan would have permitted any deviation from Chinggis Khan’s succession.
Figure 5.1 Ogodei Khan established the true functioning administration of the Mongol Empire. This statue is located in the Chinggis Khan pavilion in Sukhbaatar Square, Ulaanbaatar.
With his enthronement came the inevitable celebration. Treasure was awarded to the relatives, the commanders and the commoners. Sacrifices of food were made to Chinggis Khan, along with forty beautiful women, all from the families of the military commanders, and prized horses to attend to Chinggis Khan’s needs in the afterlife.8 Then Ogodei’s reign truly began.
Although fond of pleasure, Ogodei also took his duties seriously. His first decree verified that all of Chinggis Khan’s ordinances remained in effect and without alteration. He pardoned all crimes committed prior to his enthronement, but warned that any new transgressions would be punished.9 In addition, the Mongols began to plan the next phase of the empire. By this time, the Mongols remained in awe that Chinggis Khan’s rise had led not only to the unification of Mongolia, but also to their expansion well beyond their homeland. It was as if Tenggeri (Heaven) had decreed the earth to the Mongols. Moreover, the Mongols developed an ideology asserting this claim. While some attribute this to Chinggis Khan, it seems more likely that the idea manifested after Chinggis Khan’s death. The Secret History of the Mongols, at least in some form, also came into being at this time – a record of the life of Chinggis Khan complete with events that demonstrated that Chinggis Khan and his heirs were destined to rule the world.10
To that end, the Mongols prepared to live up to Tenggeri’s decree. The first priority was to eliminate the Jin. Since the death of Muqali in 1223, the war had entered a stalemate with neither side able to make headway. Ogodei and Tolui would lead the expedition. Subedei was also given permission to venture into the western steppes as far as the Volga River to secure Mongol claims made by Jochi during the Khwarazmian campaign. In 1230, Ogodei also dispatched Chormaqan Noyan, a qorchi or quiver bearer from the keshig, across the Amu Darya. Part of his army was to deal with Jalal al-Din Khwarazmshah’s return from India into Khurasan. Another force, led by Chormaqan’s lieutenant Dayir, entered present-day Afghanistan to bring those territories under Mongol control. Although the Mongols had conquered the region during the reign of Chinggis Khan, they did not leave an army of occupation. Finally, troops were also sent into Siberia to secure tribute from tribes beyond the known Hoi-yin Irgen territory.11
The Jin Campaign
In 1230, the Mongol army returned to the Jin Empire in force. The campaign went well. Tolui continued in his father’s footsteps and demonstrated his battlefield acumen. Like his father, however, he could not elude death (1232). Some accounts indicate that he died of alcoholism, while others offer another, more dramatic interpretation in which Ogodei is on his deathbed.12 Here, Tolui offers himself to the spirits so that they might spare the Great Khan, saying: ‘I have sinned more, for I have deprived so many people of life and taken their women and children captive and caused them to weep. If you are taking the Qa’an away on account of beauty and skill, I am better looking and more skilled. Leave him and take me instead.’13 Even here the accounts differ and fit their cultural context. Another possibility is that Ogodei had Tolui murdered or consented to the shamans sacrificing his brother, and that Tolui had little choice in the matter.14 While Ogodei is often depicted as jovial figure, he could be as ruthless as his father.15
Despite the untimely death of Tolui, the war continued. Ogodei recalled Subedei from the Volga. Subedei now led the campaign and by 1233 he had reduced the Jin Empire to the environs of Kaifeng.16 With the Jin threat eliminated and now reduced to a narrow body of land, Subedei returned to the western frontier to prepare for another campaign. At this time, the Song Empire to the south sought an alliance with the Mongols. The Song, who had formed an alliance with the Jin against the Liao Dynasty (907–1125) before them, thought that with the Jin removed, they would then be able to retake lands lost to the Song in the tenth century. The Song’s military contribution was largely inconsequential – the Jin routinely defeated them. Nonetheless, the Song provided valuable logistical support, particularly in the form of food supplies for the Mongols. In 1234, Kaifeng fell and even though the Jin Emperor escaped to another small city, his days were numbered and before the end of the year the Jin Empire ceased to exist. The Song, not having learned from their experience with the Jin, then attempted to take territory from the Mongols. Ogodei was furious, and not only did the Song quickly find themselves losing territory in the former Jin Empire, but Mongol incursions into the Song Empire began as well.17
With the defeat of the Jin Empire, Ogodei turned his attention to ruling his empire. After Tolui’s death, Ogodei did not take an active role in the conquest of the Jin Empire. He lacked the military talent of his brother and his father, but that was not why Chinggis Khan chose him as his successor. In Ogodei, he saw a greater ability to rule than in any of his other sons and Ogodei proved him right. While Chinggis Khan founded the empire, in many ways Ogodei was the true architect of the empire. Although he followed the examples of his father, he also dealt with new situations.
Ruling the Empire
One of Ogodei’s major achievements was the establishment of a capital. It was one thing to rule from a military camp as his father had done while conquering territory; it was quite another to actually rule an empire after the conquest. His tax collectors needed a definite location to which to send tax revenue; subjects needed a place where they could seek redress for grievances; envoys had to be able to find the ruler. The Daoist monk, Changchun zi, was summoned by Chinggis Khan in 1219. As the Mongol ruler invaded the Khwarazmian Empire in the same year, Changchun zi had difficulty finding him, travelling first to Mongol camps in the occupied Jin Empire before proceeding to the Onon-Kerulen basin in northern Mongolia. Temuge Otchigin, Chinggis Khan’s brother and regent, then sent the elderly monk in the wake of Chinggis Khan’s march to Central Asia. He eventually found the Mongol ruler in modern Afghanistan, in the Hindu Kush Mountains. While it may have been an epic game of hide and seek, clearly this was not the way to conduct personal meetings or diplomacy.
To this end, Ogodei ordered the construction of the city of Qaraqorum in 1235. He chose a site in the Orkhon Valley, which had historic connotations. Previous empires had also used the valley for their own capitals and had even built sizeable towns there, such as the Uighurs’ Qarabalghasun.18 There is some indication that Chinggis Khan planned to use the location as his primary a’uruq or base serving as the centre of the qol-un ulus.19 To be certain, Ogodei did not abandon his nomadic life. While the city was built, he nomadised and held court. Using the labour acquired through the conquest of the Jin and the numerous artisans that they imported from the Khwarazmian Empire, the Mongols had the labour and talent necessary to build the city. A number of the Central Asian and Chinese artisans had already been settled in a city known as Chinqai Balghasun, Chinqai City, which also served as a logistical base in western Mongolia. Chinqai was a chamberlain in the empire’s bureaucracy, along with Mahmud Yalavach and Yelu Chucai.20 Chinggis Khan had originally ordered the former caravaneer to build his city with a tumen of Chinese prisoners. Originally, it served as state farm but it also evolved into an industrial complex that manufactured goods and weapons for the empire.
Figure 5.2 Qarabalghasun was the capital of the Uighur Empire in the eighth and ninth centuries. Made of earthen walls, much of the citadel remains despite the eroding winds of Mongolia. Orkhon Valley, Mongolia.
Qaraqorum was not a large city. Perhaps no more than 10,000 people populated it.21 Nonetheless, it was large enough for 900 cartloads a day to be needed to feed the population, most of which consisted of non-Mongols – Han Chinese, Central Asians, Persians, and later even captives from Europe. Even after the completion of the palace, now occupied by the Erdene Zuu monastery, Ogodei and later Mongol khans did not reside in the city. Instead, it served more as ‘the office’ while they resided in their nomadic camps, moving periodically in the vicinity of the city. When necessary, the khan came to the city to conduct business. The bureaucracy, however, resided largely in the city, which also contained numerous storehouses built specifically to hold the ever-increasing treasury of the Mongol Empire.22 Furthermore, markets were built to accommodate the growing number of merchants who ventured into Mongolia.23
Figure 5.3 Erdene Zuu, a Buddhist monastery built in the sixteenth century, sits atop the ruins of Qaraqorum. Kharkhorin, Mongolia.
Although merchants had previous visited Mongolia from abroad, the traffic increased dramatically. This was assisted by Ogodei’s generous style of negotiations, in which he often paid double or more for goods regardless of the quality. While the sources clearly show the frustration of his advisors, Ogodei’s cavalier attitude towards wealth was not without reason.24 He realised that in order to make Qaraqorum a desired location for merchants he needed to provide incentives. While the so-called Silk Road was not known by that name until the late nineteenth century, there were well-travelled caravan routes that criss-crossed Eurasia. Ogodei made Qaraqorum a major hub and even had personal shopping assistants ride to meet the merchants as they approached the city so that they could inspect the goods and inform the khan as to what they carried.
With the arrival of the merchants, amenities were necessary. These included religious buildings. Daoist and Buddhist temples sat in view of Muslim mosques and a Christian church.25 Ogodei continued Chinggis Khan’s policy of religious toleration or indifference, although that never stopped the various faiths from trying to convince the Mongol rulers that one faith was superior to others. As long as the various religious sects included the khan in their prayers and did not cause trouble, anyone could practise their faith without interference. Yet, this policy should not be viewed as one of enlightened philanthropy.26 There is evidence that the Mongols initially struggled with their own claim to universal rule and religious toleration. This is not to say that they wished everyone to convert to their own form of shamanism or that everyone should worship the Koke Mongke Tenggeri, or Blue Eternal Sky. Rather, the Mongols had to adjust to the idea that the yasa and yosun of Chinggis Khan did not represent a perfect legal system for an entire empire.
Food Preparation
Legal tensions arose not only from major philosophical differences, such as over property, but also ubiquitous events. A major source of contention was the slaughtering of animals. The pastoral nomads of the steppes traditionally placed an animal on its back, made a small slit in the animal’s chest and then either squeezed the heart until it stilled or cut an artery so that the animal died somewhat peacefully through internal bleeding. The nomads were careful not to spill any of the blood; they scooped it out and kept it to make blood sausages and other foods. Muslims, however, had a religious mandate of halal meat, meaning that an animal’s throat was slit with a single stroke and the blood drained while a prayer was uttered. This religio-cultural difference could make meals awkward as Muslims could not eat meat prepared in the Mongol fashion. To be sure, not all Muslims were as particular, but for the devout it was a serious issue that could cause tension when meeting with Mongol officials.
Chaghadai, Ogodei’s elder brother, was renowned for his knowledge of the yasa and yosun. For that reason, he would have made an excellent khan in the eyes of some. Chinggis Khan, however, recognised that Chaghadai was also too stern and too narrow in his interpretation of tradition while lacking Ogodei’s liberal perspective on life.27 In the Islamic sources, Chaghadai is depicted as unwavering in his commitment to the traditions of his father, and assisted his brother by enforcing the yasa throughout the realm. It was said that ‘a woman with a golden vessel on her head might walk alone without fear or dread’.28 Security was an obvious benefit for all, but his unstinting enforcement of the yasa also had negative consequences. Under his purview, Muslims were forced to eat carrion and other meat slaughtered in non-halal fashion.29 Ogodei, however, is depicted as a just ruler, albeit a heathen. In Muslim depictions of the brothers, Ogodei counters Chaghadai’s fanatical adherence to the yasa and supports religious toleration.30
One must be careful not to read ‘religious toleration’ in a twenty-first-century connotation (or perhaps twentieth-century connotation, as the current century appears thus far to be less tolerant than the previous one). One should read it with a very literal interpretation. Ogodei tolerated other religions. He being the ruler of an empire comprising a poly-ethnic, poly-religious population, his primary concern was stability. The often-playful banter and contrasting behaviour between Chaghadai and Ogodei has obvious religious tensions in it; however, it should also be viewed as a debate as to how the empire should be ruled. There is no question that the Mongols viewed the empire as their possession, but should everyone be a Mongol? Clearly, that was not possible. Even in war, the Mongols tended to view the enemy more as livestock to be herded than as human beings.31 Yet would applying the yasa of Chinggis Khan to the subjects create a stable empire, or would it create instability? This is the question that Chaghadai and Ogodei debated, whether or not the chroniclers realised it. While Chaghadai represented the yasa as the only legal code, Ogodei viewed it as suitable for the nomads, but recognised that other systems exist. Just as applying the Jin legal system to Central Asia or Islamic law to Manchuria would have caused chaos, one could not apply the yasa to sedentary cultures whose lifestyles were as alien to the Mongols as the Mongols’ customs were foreign to them. Ogodei being Qa’an, his view won, but not without substantial time and effort being expended in convincing Chaghadai and perhaps other conservative members of the ruling elite. Even more remarkable is that Chaghadai showed no interest in reversing course after Ogodei’s death. As a result, the Mongols not only maintained their religious toleration, but also allowed existing legal and cultural norms to exist and coexist under the aegis of the yasa.32
Figure 5.4 The Tortoise of Qaraqorum. A stelae once mounted its back. Its face is discoloured from various offerings, including alcohol and even gummy worms. It is the only intact large object from Qaraqorum. Erdene Zuu is in the background. Kharkhorin, Mongolia.
In addition to building his capital and developing a more comprehensive method of ruling the sedentary populations, Ogodei also invested in the infrastructure of the empire. As discussed previously, the civil administration developed into a rational functioning bureaucracy under the guidance of Yelu Chucai, Mahmud Yalavach and Chinqai. Chinqai, in particular, saw his star rise during the reign of Ogodei and became the prime minister in a sense. As the empire continued to grow, it also became increasingly necessary to ensure that decrees made in Qaraqorum reached the far corners of the empire.
Chinggis Khan began the jam (yam) system, in which riders switched horses or were replaced at different stations, situated every 20–30 miles apart. In areas not conducive to riding, runners were used. The jam, however, did not extend greatly beyond Mongolia at the time of his death.33 Ogodei extended it, and also developed a system of passports made from wood, iron, silver and gold that indicated the importance of the carrier.34 The level of passport also dictated what resources the bearer had access to at the jam stations – food, horses, lodging, etc. The stations themselves were supported by local nomads or the sedentary population. When the system functioned properly, riders could traverse the empire swiftly. When it failed, not only did the flow of communication slow, but the passports allowed government officials and others to exploit the yam stations and burden the local population.
Figure 5.5 Modern presentation of a yam station. The horses were saddled and ready for a messenger to arrive. Note the brand or tamgha on the horse in the forefront. This tamgha not only helped in the return of the horse, but also noted who contributed to the yam system.
Additionally, Ogodei expanded another infrastructure item, which Chinggis Khan initiated. In Mongolia, Ogodei ordered the digging of wells and the construction of protective walls to ensure that animals did not pollute them. While this benefited the armies as they departed Mongolia, it also promoted commerce as caravans coming to Mongolia now had well-watered routes. He also deployed patrols to ensure that the trade routes remained secure, which also bears the hallmarks of Chaghadai’s influence in making policy.35
The Middle East and the Western Campaign
Although the Jin Empire fell after more than twenty years of war, the Mongols did not rest on their laurels. In the Middle East, the army of Chormaqan Noyan remained active. The reason for the invasion centred primarily on the return of Jalal al-Din Khwarazmshah from India. After his defeat by Chinggis Khan, he fled into India and attempted to re-establish himself along the frontiers of the Sultanate of Delhi (1210–1526), whose ruler, Sultan Iltumish, had no interest in seeing the restoration of a Khwarazmian Empire in any form and supported weaker princes against Jalal al-Din’s predations. Eventually, Jalal al-Din went west as the Mongols pressured his holdings in Afghanistan. The Sultanate of Delhi’s act of neutrality may also have played a role in why the Mongol armies did not attack the Sultanate of Delhi during Chinggis Khan’s lifetime.36
Between the death of Chinggis Khan and the arrival of Chormaqan Noyan, Chin-Temur, the daruqachi of Urgench in Khwarazm, attempted to deal with Jalal al-Din, but without definite success, in 1227 and 1228.37 The encounters between his troops and Jalal al-Din ended in draws, although Jalal al-Din also garnered enough prestige to rally more support. Nonetheless, Chin-Temur’s efforts convinced Jalal al-Din that remaining in Khurasan and eastern Iran only attracted more attention from the Mongols, so he moved his operations westward and attempted to carve out a new kingdom in western Iran and Transcaucasia.
The arrival of Chormaqan’s force drastically changed the situation. After crossing the Amu Darya, one portion of his army under Dayir secured Khurasan and then moved into the regions of Ghur and Ghazna in modern Afghanistan, while he led the rest of the army into northern Iran. From here, he dispatched a special task force commanded by Taimaz with the sole purpose of hunting and destroying Jalal al-Din. After a few sieges, the majority of Iran submitted. The Mongols did not even campaign in southern Iran, as regional leaders pre-emptively sent envoys to submit to the Mongol general. Meanwhile, the Nizari Ismailis (often referred to as the Assassins) in the Albruz Mountains and Quhistan appeared to ally themselves with the Mongols against Jalal al-Din.38
Only the city of Isfahan continued to resist, which was not surprising as it also served as Jalal al-Din’s de facto capital.39 He, however, was not present to lead its defence. Furthermore, the Mongols did not immediately lay siege to it. The Mongols isolated and monitored the city while Chormaqan consolidated his control of Iran and directed the pursuit of the Khwarazmshah.40
Although Jalal al-Din led the Mongols in an extended pursuit through Transcaucasia, he could not escape. Taimaz caught him by surprise in his camp while the prince made merry, secure in the thought that his scouts found no trace of the Mongols for miles. The Khwarazmian veterans resisted fiercely and even distracted the Mongols long enough for Jalal al-Din to escape. The sultan’s escape, however, did not save him, as Jalal al-Din was eventually killed, not by the Mongols but by Kurdish peasants or perhaps others.41 The Mongols used Isfahan as a beacon to attract the Khwarazmian forces, which the Mongols then ambushed. Many Khwarazmians, however, did not attempt to reach Isfahan, but instead sought greener pastures elsewhere. Many served as mercenaries for a number of regional powers before sacking Jerusalem in 1244 while en route to Egypt. Eventually, however, the Ayyubid rulers of Egypt and Syria destroyed them after the Khwarazmians proved too unruly.
In 1233, Chormaqan’s forces then advanced to the Mughan plain in modern Azerbaijan. The lush pastures there made it ideal for him to use as a base for his tamma.42 The following year, he expanded his dominion into the region of Arran, sacking Ganjak in 1235. In 1238, he began the invasion of Armenia and Georgia.43 The conquest went rapidly. Georgia and Armenia, already militarily weakened by the predations of Jalal al-Din in the late 1220s, did not offer any resistance on the battlefield but sought shelter behind their fortifications. While these mountain fortresses slowed the Mongols, Chormaqan’s armies steadily reduced them.44 Nonetheless, the bravery of many Armenian princes caught the eye of Chormaqan and he often expanded their territory after they submitted to him. To be sure, the princes had to pay tribute and provide troops upon request, but the regional sources attest that the local magnates found Chormaqan to be a just overlord.45
Not all of the Georgians agreed. In 1238, the Mongols sacked Tiflis (modern Tbilisi) and then divided into three separate columns to wreak further havoc elsewhere in the region.46 The Georgian ruler, Queen Rusudan, fled to a stronghold in the western part of Georgia, refusing to submit and appealing to Pope Gregory IX (r. 1227–41) for a Crusade.47 As the rest of Georgia submitted, the Mongols left her isolated until 1243, when she grudgingly submitted to the Mongols through her intermediaries.
Even as Chormaqan conquered Transcaucasia, his armies were active in the rest of the Middle East. Dayir proved successful in Afghanistan and established Mongol rule there. Meanwhile, Mongol contingents raided the Jazira (northern Iraq) and Iraq al-Arabi (southern Iraq), beginning in 1235.48 This alarmed the Abbasid Caliphate, now a truncated state whose control was limited to much, but not all, of modern Iraq. When the Abbasid army marched against the Mongols, to the Abbasids’ surprise the Mongols always withdrew after brief skirmishes.49 The Mongols only raided the region. At this time, they did not seek conquest. Their limited actions served as a smokescreen with which to cover their conquest of Transcaucasia as well as a much larger campaign further to the north.
In 1236, another major campaign began. This was the Western Campaign, which had two primary objectives. The first and foremost was to create an adequate realm for the descendants of Jochi. The second goal was to bring the Kipchak Turks of the Caspian Steppe to heel and under Mongol control. The Mongols also targeted the kingdom of Bulghar on the Volga River, as they had previously rejected Mongol terms of submission. Bulghar also attacked Subedei’s army when it returned from the Kalka River in the 1220s. In the study of this campaign, much attention is given to the conquest of the Rus’ principalities as well as the invasion of Europe, but these actions were ancillary to the Mongols’ goals.
The Mongols had a fair understanding of the region. During the Khwarazmian War, the generals Subedei and Jebe led a campaign into the Dasht-i Kipchak. Departing from Iran, they devastated Armenia and Georgia, but they also defeated an army of Alans and then a joint force of Rus’ and Kipchaks at the Battle of the Kalka River in 1223. Although Jebe died in the prelude to the battle, Subedei successfully led the army across the Volga to link up with Jochi’s armies in 1225.50
Subedei began operations along the Volga as early as 1229, halting when he assumed command of the final push against the Jin Empire. Operations resumed in 1233 under the leadership of Berke, one of Jochi’s sons.51 During this time, the Mongols gained the Yayiq or Ural River. These were limited gains, however. Not until the quriltai of 1234 did the Mongols decide to permanently occupy the Dasht-i Kipchak and other territories.52
Only the Kipchak nomads proved to be challenging on the battlefield, and hence the reason why the Mongols sought to bring all of the steppe nomads under their control as ordained by Tenggeri. The Mongols prioritised the subduing of other nomads over the reduction of sedentary states due to the nomad’s martial prowess. As Tolun Cherbi, a Mongol commander, pointed out about the Tangut, they lived in cities and were not going anywhere. Nomads, on the other hand, could leave and thus pose a recurring threat to the Mongols.53
Although the campaign was meant to carve out a realm for the Jochids, it was truly an imperial campaign. Neither Ogodei nor Chaghadai accompanied the campaign, but they both sent sons, such as Qadan and Baidar respectively, and troops to accompany it. Tolui’s eldest son, Mongke, also joined the campaign. Estimates put the army at approximately 150,000 men. Batu, the scion of the house of Jochi, led the campaign, but this was more of an honorary position, making him first among the princes. Subedei was the true commander of the army. Ogodei recognised the difficulty presented by the large number of Chinggisid princes in the campaign and granted Subedei the authority to mete out punishment to all but the Chinggisids – those would be sent back to him so Ogodei could deal with them personally if necessary.
As the army crossed the Volga, it divided into two forces. One force attacked the Kipchak nomads led by Mongke, Tolui’s eldest son. While many Kipchaks fled westward across the Dashti-i Kipchak before the Mongol onslaught, others stood and fought. One such leader was Bachman Khan. He too, however, was defeated and fled to an island in the estuary of the Volga and Caspian Sea. Unfortunately, the island did not provide shelter against pursuit. When the tide went out, the Mongols were able to advance upon the island and capture and execute the Kipchak khan.54 Those Kipchaks not killed were then incorporated into the Mongol army.
Nerge Formation
The nerge or jarga formation stemmed from a technique that the Mongols used in hunting and to train their army. The men formed a line extending over miles. The line eventually became a circle that constricted and drove the animals to the centre. The men were punished if they allowed any animal to escape from the circle, whether it was a tiger or a rabbit. Once the hunting circle contracted to its smallest size, men hunted and demonstrated their bravery before releasing the remaining animals. The Mongols also used the nerge in warfare. It could be an encircling tactic or be applied to a campaign strategy where units operated over dozens or even hundreds of miles, forcing the enemy to flee or march to exactly where the Mongols wanted them. As it took place over vast distances, the enemy only realised they were surrounded when it was too late.
Meanwhile, another Mongol army marched north, led by Batu, Orda and Shayban – all sons of Jochi. The Bulghars’ defence was stiff, but the Mongols overcame it and brought them and many of the subordinate Siberian and steppe tribes such as the Bashkirs to heel as well. Although Batu and Orda continued westward, there is some indication that Shayban may have continued north in order to gain the formal submission of Siberian tribes, who paid tribute in fur.55
In late 1237, the Mongols turned their eyes towards the Rus’ principalities. Through their intelligence network, the Mongols already knew of the lack of unity among the Rus’ princes. The Rus’ did not seem alarmed by the approach of the Mongols, despite their earlier encounter with Subedei in 1223. Furthermore, the Bulghars had approached a few Rus’ princes in search of an alliance against the Mongols prior to the 1234 invasion.56 The Rus’ ignored all warnings and did not seem overly curious about the Mongols either. They may have assumed they were just another group of nomads, like the Kipchaks and the Pechenegs before them. Both were dangerous, but accommodations and relations existed between the steppe zone and the forests of the Rus’. At most, the Rus’ seemed to think, these new nomads would be a nuisance, but not a cataclysmic event. The Rus’ thought wrong.
The invasion of the Rus’ principalities began in the winter of 1237. Unlike other invaders (Napoleon, Nazi Germany), the Mongols did not fear the Russian winter – they welcomed it. The frozen rivers served as highways and not as obstacles. The Mongols descended upon the well-fortified city of Riazan’ and encircled it with a palisade, preventing escape and also making good use of the plentiful lumber from the northern forests. Defensive works that had been an asset in disrupting nomadic armies in the past now became a liability as the Mongols brought engineers with them. A relief army attempted to liberate Riazan’ from the Mongols, but was defeated quickly. Afterwards, the Mongols stormed and destroyed Riazan’, shortly before Christmas.57
As with all of their campaigns, the Mongols then split their armies. One marched against the titular ruler of the Rus’, Grand Prince Vladimir. Although he attempted to draw the Mongols into a field battle, they deferred engaging with him and shadowed his movements until he entered an area more to their liking along the Sit’ River, where the Mongols soundly defeated him in 1238. Meanwhile, the cities of Rostov, Iaroslavl’, Torzhok and Suzdal’ all succumbed to the Mongols. Armies that met the Mongols on the battlefield encountered not only the usual barrage of arrows, but also assault by catapults deployed as field artillery. Most dramatic, however, was that the Rus’ found themselves in a tightening noose. As the Mongols used the nerge tactic, which spread out over hundreds of miles, the Rus’ had less room to manoeuvre and were often cut off from the cities.58 Of the major northern Rus’ cities, only Novgorod escaped an attack as an early thaw turned the route to it into a muddy swamp.59 Its ruler, Prince Alexander, however, did not wait for the Mongols to attack him. He promptly came to their camp and submitted to Batu, saving his city from an attack in the future.
With the northern cities subjugated, the Mongols rested in the lush pastures of the Don River steppes before launching an attack on the southern Rus’ principalities in the winter of 1238–9. As with the northern campaign, the Mongols operated on a wide front and the cities fell one by one. Pereiaslavl’ fell in March 1239 and Chernigov in October 1239. Afterwards, the Mongols solidified their gains and dealt with nomadic elements in the steppes. Then, in the late autumn of 1240, the Mongols descended upon the religious and cultural capital of the Rus’, Kiev. 60 Prince Daniil fled in the face of the Mongol threat. Once the Mongols breached the city walls, many of the citizens fled and took refuge in the great churches of Kiev. The Mongols simply burned them rather than trying to enter. Kiev fell, with columns of smoke reaching towards the heavens, on 6 December 1240.61 Years later, travellers noted that the roads to Kiev were still lined with the bones of the citizenry.62 Many other cities submitted swiftly rather than face the Mongols’ wrath.
While Batu and Subedei launched the attack on the southern cities, another Mongol army led by Qadan, Berke and Mongke moved into the steppes between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea. Again the army divided, with Qadan marching against the Circassians while Berke continued the war against the Kipchaks in the region as well as subduing what is now Daghestan and Chechnya.63 Meanwhile Mongke moved against the Alans, a semi-nomadic, Indo-European group that had been in the region since the first century ce. Although the Alan capital of Magas proved difficult to capture, the region was subdued.64 Undoubtedly the effort was assisted by Chormaqan’s presence in Georgia in 1238–9, thus cutting off possible aid and retreat. The Georgians and Kipchaks had long-standing ties and, while they were not always amiable, they knew each other well enough for an alliance not to be out of the question. As with other regions, leaders who submitted without resistance stayed in power. Berke also established a presence in the region as it became part of his ordo or camp.
With the steppes and Rus’ cities subdued, the Mongols continued westward and spent much of 1240 resting their horses for the invasion of Europe. Unlike the Rus’, the Hungarians, whose realm dominated much of Central Europe, did not sit passively awaiting the Mongols. The Hungarians built new fortifications and improved old ones in the mountain passes of the Carpathians. Hungary also made an alliance with Bulgaria, and King Bela IV welcomed 40,000 Kipchak refugees who had fled from the Mongols. Missionaries based in Hungary had long proselytised (with mixed results) in the Pontic Steppes, so the Hungarians had a fair idea about the Mongols’ intentions.65 Furthermore, Bela IV welcomed the Kipchaks for his own reasons – to bolster his own authority in the face of often recalcitrant vassals. Unfortunately for him, the nomads and Hungarian peasants immediately experienced tensions as the Kipchaks allowed their animals to graze in the cultivated fields. Arguments turned into fights. The Hungarian nobility realised Bela’s intent. The Church did not welcome the Kipchaks either. Even though the Kipchak leader Koten had undergone baptism, the Church was rightly sceptical about the Kipchaks’ beliefs. In the eyes of the Church, the Kipchaks were still pagans. Tensions reached a head shortly after the Mongol invasion. Many Hungarians believed that the Kipchaks were in league with the Mongols and the nobility hanged Koten.66 In retaliation, the Kipchaks went on a rampage through Hungary and went southward to escape the Mongols. They left a swath of destruction before dispersing into nomadic bands, or became mercenaries for a number of regional powers.67
The refugees did not escape Mongol notice. A Mongol ambassador appeared in Hungary demanding the return of the Kipchaks – explaining that they were the Mongols’ slaves and thus their property. Bela refused. Although the ambassador was unharmed, the fact that Bela did not submit and also refused to return the property of the Mongols placed Hungary in state of rebellion against the will of Tenggeri. War loomed on the horizon. The Kipchaks fled as the Mongol invasion began in 1241, with the Mongols once again moving on a wide front. Two tumed led by Baidar, son of Chaghadai, and Qadan, a son of Ogodei, invaded Poland while Batu and Subedei led the main force against Hungary. Another occupying force remained in the Pontic Steppe to maintain control over the newly conquered regions.
In Poland, Baidar and Qadan made sudden strikes, often dispersing their forces to mask their numbers. With eastern Poland ablaze, the lords of western Poland attempted to assemble an army to face the Mongol threat. Henry of Silesia joined the Teutonic Knights coming from Prussia. King Vaclav (r. 1230–53) of Bohemia, Henry’s brother-in-law, marched with reinforcements. Mongol scouts, however, were aware of their intents and ensured that the battle took place before Vaclav’s arrival. The Mongols forced the battle at Liegnitz, attacking the formations of the Poles and Teutonic Knights. After luring the knights into an ambush with a feigned retreat, the Mongols then destroyed the rest of the army. Later, Henry’s widow only recognised his body due to him having an extra toe on one foot, as the Mongols took his head and paraded it on a lance before the city of Liegnitz. Not all of the Europeans were killed, however. Many German miners served in the allied army at Liegnitz. Those who survived were sent to work in the mines of the Tien Shan Mountains in modern Kyrgyzstan. William of Rubruck, who, in the 1250s, journeyed to the empire, enquired about their whereabouts as part of his mission.68
Figure 5.6 Basilica of St Mary, Krakow, Poland. Krakow was but one of the cities that the Mongols attacked in 1241. A trumpeter still sounds the alarm from the church tower, with his final note dying as the Mongols shot him. While often attributed to the 1241 Mongol attack, it actually occurred during a later raid. (Photo courtesy of T. Christopher Jespersen)
After Liegnitz, Baidar and Qadan did not tarry. They realised that Vaclav’s army was near; it arrived only a day or two later. They did not engage Vaclav, but drew him away from Hungary. As Vaclav and Bela were related (King Bela III of Hungary was their grandfather), it was possible Vaclav could come to Bela’s aid. Their ruse succeeded. Baidar and Qadan eventually split their forces again and rode to Hungary to re-unite with Subedei and Batu.
The major engagement in Hungary occurred at Mohi, along the Sajo River in April 1241. The Mongols broke through several of the fortified passes in the Carpathians and found the Hungarians at Mohi. The two armies were separated by the Sajo River. The river was a sufficient obstacle with few fordable spots. As a result, a pitched battle between the Mongol vanguard and the Hungarians took place at a bridge. The Mongols eventually captured the bridge with a rolling barrage from their siege weapons and drove their opponents off the bridgehead.69 The Hungarians retreated to their fortified camp or wagon laager – a circle of wagons that provided some protection from the barrages of arrows while preventing sudden charges.
Rather than assault the fortified position, the Mongols pressured the camp, building tension, but then carefully left a gap in their lines. This lured the Hungarians to make a foray to escape. The initial probe soon became a flood as the entire camp rushed for the gap. Mongol units near it fled at the sudden onslaught. Soon thousands of Hungarians fled towards the twin cities of Buda and Pest, narrowly escaping the Mongol trap. The Hungarians then learned that Subedei did not make careless mistakes. The Hungarians went from the frying pan into the fire as the Mongols suddenly attacked from behind. Reasoning that to storm the camp would incur heavy casualties, Batu and Subedei decided to allow the Hungarians to escape. They then attacked the retreating Hungarians after allowing a reasonable amount of time to convince the Hungarians they were truly safe. In full retreat, the Hungarians were less likely to put up an organised resistance. Bela survived, but his army was destroyed.70
The residents of Buda and Pest quickly learned that rumour travelled only slightly more quickly than the Mongols. As the destruction of the Hungarian army occurred, rumours reached the cities that the Mongols were a mere hundred miles away – at least three or four days away. The Mongols appeared the next day. The cities were ruthlessly sacked. Bela survived Mohi only to be relentlessly pursued by Qadan, now returned from Poland. Qadan’s sole task was to hunt down the Hungarian king. Bela only escaped by fleeing into the Adriatic Sea from Split, now in modern Croatia, leaving Hungary to the pillagers.71 Bulgaria, Hungary’s ally, also suffered. Bulgaria, however, submitted to the Mongols and remained a client state of the Mongols until well into the fourteenth century. Meanwhile Subedei and Batu continued with the conquest of Hungary, pillaging and destroying any opposition.
Figure 5.7 This Chinese woodcut depicts Subedei, perhaps the greatest Mongol general, in an almost demonic representation. Undoubtedly, many of his opponents would have agreed with it. (The Granger Collection/New York)
Europe braced itself for the next onslaught – an invasion of the Holy Roman Empire, at that time ruled by Frederick II (1194–1250). In late 1241, Mongols were spotted near Vienna.72 It was rumoured that imperial troops captured a few Mongols, including an Englishman who happened to be in their company. Panic began to set in across Europe.73 As early as 1238, the fish market in Yarmouth, England bottomed out as merchants from the Hanseatic League and other ports in the Baltic remained in their ports in case their ships were needed to evacuate the cities.74 Pope Gregory IX (r. 1227–41) and Emperor Frederick both made calls for a Crusade against the Mongols, in addition to blaming the other for the disasters that had occurred in Poland and Hungary.75 Even in the face of apocalyptic doom, the rivalry between the papacy and the Holy Roman Empire did not abate. Yet for all the worry, the attack never came. Reports soon reached the crowned heads of Europe that the Mongols had disappeared and were no longer in Hungary, as the Mongols withdrew in 1242.76
The standard explanation was that news had reached Batu and Subedei that Ogodei had died, and the princes and leading generals needed to return to Mongolia for the quriltai to select a new emperor. Others have postulated that the Mongols determined that there was not sufficient pasture in Hungary for them to suitably occupy the region.77 Some scholars have suggested that the wars against Hungary and Poland cost the Mongols too many men. The valour of Christendom had been defeated, but the armies of Hungary and Poland inflicted heavy casualties on the infidels. Contemporary chroniclers also touted this idea. Supporters of Frederick wrote that the Mongols fled in fear of his might.78 Finally, some scholars suggested that the Mongols departed because they never planned to stay, as they practised a gradual conquest – often devastating an area to make a buffer zone to protect their new conquests among the Rus’ and the Dasht-i Kipchak.79
No matter what the real reason was, the death of Ogodei played a large role in the decision. A quriltai had to be convened. Replacing Ogodei was not an easy decision as he had proved to be a very effective khan. The sources, hostile and amiable, all concur on this point. His death in 1241 was a great loss for the empire. Nonetheless, he left behind an effective administration staffed by capable men. He had also improved communication throughout the empire through an empire-wide installation of the jam, a pony-express-style postal system. During the lifetime of Chinggis Khan, this had only existed in Mongolia. Ogodei also established a true capital city, Qaraqorum in the Orkhon Valley of Mongolia, the site of previous capitals for the Gok Turk and Uighurs. Ogodei also gave the Mongols an ideology upon which they could build and rationalise their empire – world conquest as decreed by Tenggeri. Yet, Ogodei was not perfect, as evinced by his chronic drunkenness, which may have been the root of his death. More importantly, however, he died without securing his heir and successor, and this indecision took the empire into crisis.
Islam and the Mongol Empire under Ogodei
The reign of Ogodei did not reveal an inevitable transition into the Mongol Empire becoming an Islamic Empire. Although the conquest of larger regions of the Middle East brought more Muslim subjects into the Yeke Monggol Ulus, it also brought in numerous Christians through the conquest of Armenia and Georgia, not to mention those living in Iran or Azerbaijan. Furthermore, the conquest of the Jin Empire counterbalanced the additional Muslim population with Daoists, Buddhists and many others. The Western Campaign also did not move the Mongols closer to Islam. Although Bulghar was Muslim in faith, it was an Islamic island in a sea of traditional beliefs. To be sure, Muslim missionaries operated in the Dasht-i Kipchak, but Christian missionaries were active as well among the Kipchaks. Additionally, the conquest of the Rus’ brought Orthodox Christians, a new element, into the Mongol fold.
Thus in terms of population, Muslims did not become the majority. If anything, the Mongols’ religious neutrality only expanded. While mosques existed in Qaraqorum, they existed next to Buddhist temples and Christian churches. More Muslims served in the bureaucracy of the Mongol Empire, but again, they were in the company of members of other religions as well. Nor was the government structure an Islamic one, although some influences may have existed in taxation and offices; the Mongol bureaucracy possessed incredible diversity in structure and influences, as well as flexibility in its operation, based on locality.
Although the Mongols during the Yeke Monggol Ulus period were known for their religious toleration or indifference, this is not to say that some religious persecution did not occur. The most notable episodes of religious persecution during the reign of Ogodei involved the curious matter of slaughtering animals by Muslims, as mentioned before. It should be noted that Ogodei was the one who issued the decree prohibiting the halal method of slaughter.80 While the Muslim sources are unstinting in their hostility towards Chaghadai’s apparent disdain for Muslims, Ogodei is treated as a ‘Just Ruler’.81 These incidences may indicate a struggle by the Mongols in adapting to ruling sedentary populations, but the question of whether this constituted religious persecution remains.
Muslims were not alone in some forms of religious persecution. During the reign of Chinggis Khan, there was an effort to have the Chinese (and presumably Jurchen and Khitans) cut their hair in the Mongol fashion. Buddhist monks (who shaved their heads completely) and Daoist priests (who did not shave their heads) both complained how this infringed upon their religious practices. Chinggis Khan relented.82 Likewise, on several occasions Ogodei intervened against Chaghadai’s repressive measures against Muslims in addition to relenting on the halal prohibition.83 Additionally, Juwayni’s depiction makes it clear that Mongol rulers ‘could in fact change their laws as they saw fit’.84 It is difficult, however, to determine whether Chaghadai’s animosity towards Muslims was based on their faith or was simply because they violated the yasa. Juwayni and Rashid al-Din’s accounts clearly demonstrate that his actions were based on transgressions against the yasa, whereas Juzjani is quick to see the spectre of religious persecution in Chaghadai’s actions, and views him as a mastermind plotting genocide against Muslims.85
In the examples above, the proscription of animal slaughter and the imposition of hairstyles were all abandoned due to the Mongols’ practice of religious toleration. Ogodei also appears to have come to terms with the fact that the yasa did not function well as a legal code outside of the nomadic world. When examined in isolation, the imposition of nomadic-style animal slaughter and the banning of halal do appear to be religious oppression. When placed in the context of the Mongols’ imposition of hairstyles, another view comes into focus. When Chinggis Khan created the Yeke Monggol Ulus, his social revolution did away with other identities, such as the Merkits, Naiman, etc., and all became Mongols. We know that the Mongols imposed their hairstyle on nomads conscripted into the military. Perhaps it was initially more widespread, and all who became part of the Yeke Monggol Ulus were to have the same hairstyle, thus marking them as Mongol. In a similar fashion, the method of slaughter would also indicate that one was Mongol. Only as the Mongols became more culturally aware did they begin to realise that other identities, such as religious identities, also existed. Their own innate religious tolerance (or disinterest) then permitted them to adjust and limit their attempts to enforce Mongol identity over their subjects. Again, this should not be viewed as a modern form of enlightenment, but rather as a pragmatic assessment of how to rule a diverse population.
Their religious neutrality, however, also permitted religions to spread. Juzjani, who was perhaps the most hostile chronicler, went so far as to call Ogodei ‘a great friend’ of the Muslims.86 Juzjani also recorded that mosques were being built in the cities of China and even Tibet. Mosques had existed in some Chinese cities prior to this due to the presence of Muslim merchants, but Juzjani’s praise suggests the establishment of new ones. Additionally, he notes that the Mongols relocated Muslim commanders from Iran and Mawarannahr to Turkestan and North China. Juzjani states that Ogodei encouraged the Mongols to allow their daughters to marry Muslims.87 While Juzjani interprets this as Ogodei’s favourable view of Muslims, it also reflected an effort to control both Muslims and the populations of North China and elsewhere. By relocating Muslim commanders to areas in non-Muslim Turkestan and North China, he introduced a new element, who then became beholden to Ogodei for their own protection as outsiders. At the same time, he augmented his military capacity for dealing with an insurrection in North China as well as with outside troops. Nonetheless, Muslims were favourably impressed with Ogodei, and word even reached Juzjani, who had fled to Delhi during the Khwarazmian War, that Ogodei had secretly converted to Islam. Juzjani, however, remained dubious.88 At the same time, one must also consider that Ogodei’s efforts were also an attempt to bring Muslims into Yeke Monggol Ulus through the influence of location, and also their daughters, much as Chinggis Khan did by strategically marrying his daughters. The marriage of daughters of Mongol commanders to Muslim (and other) commanders and princes brought their new subjects closer into the Mongol world.
Map 5.1 The Mongol Empire during the reign of Ogodei, 1230’40 © Mapping Specialists
1 RD/Thackston2, 222; RD/Thackston1, 312; RD/Karimi, 453; Juvaini/Boyle, 186–7; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 146–7; YUS, 47.
2 Peter Jackson, ‘The Dissolution of the Mongol Empire’, CAJ 22 (1978), 186–244.
3 Juvaini/Boyle, 186; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 146.
4 Isenbike Togan, ‘Otchigin’s Place in the Transformation from Family to Dynasty’, in CEMA, 408. On succession see Michal Biran, Qaidu and the Rise of the Independent Mongol State in Central Asia (London, 1997), 8 and 134; Joseph F. Fletcher, ‘Turco-Mongolian Tradition in the Ottoman Empire’, HUS 3/4 (1979–80), 239.
5 SHM, §269.
6 Thomas T. Allsen, ‘The Rise of the Mongolian Empire and Mongolian Rule in North China’, in Twitchett and Fairbank (eds), CHCAR, 367–8.
7 Christopher Tyerman, God’s War: A New History of the Crusades (Cambridge, MA, 2006), 159; Thomas F. Madden, The Concise History of the Crusades (Lanham, MD, 2014), 36.
8 RD/Thackston2, 222; RD/Thackston1, 312; RD/Karimi, 445; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 149; Juvaini/Boyle, 189.
9 Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 149; Juvaini/Boyle, 189–90.
10 Thomas T. Allsen, ‘A Note on Mongol Imperial Ideology’, in EMLCH, 1–8; Sh. Bira, ‘Mongolian Tenggerism and Modern Globalism: A Restrospective Outlook on Globalisation’, IA 5 (2003), 107–17; Igor de Rachewiltz, ‘Some Remarks on the Ideological Foundations of Chingis Khan’s Empire’, PFEH 7 (1973), 21–36. On the composition of the SHM, see Igor de Rachewiltz, ‘Introduction’, in Igor de Rachewiltz (ed.), The Secret History of the Mongols, vol. 1 (Leiden, 2004), xxv-xl; Christopher P. Atwood, ‘How the Secret History of the Mongols Was Written’, Mongolica 49 (2016), 22–53; Christopher P. Atwood, ‘Validation by Holiness or Sovereignty: Religious Toleration as Political Theology in the Mongol World Empire of the Thirteenth Century’, IHR 26/2 (2004), 237–56.
11 SHM, §269–70; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 149, 150; Juvaini/Boyle, 190; RD/Thackston2, 222–3; RD/Thackston1, 313; RD/Karimi, 454–5.
12 Juwayni/Qazvini, v3, 3; Juvaini/Boyle, 549; RD/Thackston2, 224; RD/Thackston1, 316; RD/Karimi, 459; SHM, §272. Juwayni simply says Tolui died by drinking in excess.
13 RD/Thackston2, 224; RD/Thackston1, 316; RD/Karimi, 459; SHM,§272.
14 Christopher P. Atwood, ‘The Sacrificed Brother in the Secret History of the Mongols’, MS 31 (2009), 200–2.
15 Also see Christopher P. Atwood, ‘Pu’a’s Boast and Dolqolqu’s Death: Historiography of a Hidden Scandal in the Mongol Conquest of the Jin’, Conference on Middle Period China, 800–1400, Harvard University, 5–7 June 2014.
16 Thomas T. Allsen, ‘The Rise of the Mongolian Empire’, in Herbert Franke and Denis Twitchett (eds), CHCAR, 32. See Atwood, ‘Pu’a’s Boast and Dolqolqu’s Death’ for more on Dolqolqu.
17 RD/Karimi, 460–2; RD/Thackston2, 225; RD/Thackston, 1998, 316–18; Allsen, ‘Rise of the Mongolian Empire’, 372.
18 Larry W. Moses, ‘A Theoretical Approach to the Process of Inner Asian Confederation’, EM 5 (1974), 113–22.
19 Igor de Rachewiltz, SHM, v2 (Leiden, 2004), 988.
20 See Paul D. Buell, ‘Cinqai’, in Igor de Rachewiltz, et al. (eds), ITSOTK, 95–100. He was either a Kereit or an Onggud.
21 Rubruck/Dawson, 183–4; Rubruck/Jackson, 221; Rubruc, 285.
22 Rubruck/Dawson, 175; Rubruck/Jackson, 209; Rubruc, 276.
23 Rubruck/Dawson, 177; Rubruck/Jackson, 211; Rubruc, 278.
24 Juvaini/Boyle, 198, 214–15; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 156, 170–1.
25 Rubruck/Dawson, 184; Rubruck/Jackson, 221; Rubruc, 286.
26 David Morgan, The Mongols, 2nd edn (Oxford, 2007), 38–40.
27 Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 226–7; Juvaini/Boyle, 271–2; SHM, §242.
28 Juvaini/Boyle, 272, Juwayni/Qazvini, v2, 227.
29 Juvaini/Boyle, 272; Juwayni/Qazvini, v2, 227.
30 Johan Elverskog, Buddhism and Islam on the Silk Road (Philadelphia, 2010), 237.
31 Timothy May, ‘Livestock and Warfare: Livestock Herding as Warfare in the Mongol Empire’, paper presented at the Central Eurasian Studies Society Conference, 3–6 October 2013, The University of Wisconsin-Madison, Madison, Wisconsin.
32 For more on the yasa, see David O. Morgan, ‘The “Great Yasa of Chinggis Khan” Revisited’, in MTO, 291–308.
33 See Adam J. Silverstein, Postal Systems in the Pre-Modern Islamic World (Cambridge, 2007), 141–64 for a study of the yam and discussion of its antecedents.
34 SHM, §281.
35 SHM, §281.
36 Peter Jackson, The Delhi Sultanate: A Political and Military History (Cambridge, 1999), 33–4, 104.
37 Nesawi/Houdas, 224–33; Nasawi, 232–8; Ibn al-Athir, 470, 476–7; Ibn al-Athir/Richards, 284, 288–9; Juvaini/Boyle, 436–7; Juwayni/Qazvini, v2, 168–9.
38 Timothy May, ‘A Mongol-Ismaili Alliance? Thoughts on the Mongols and Assassins’, JRAS, 14/3 (2006), 231–9; Ibn al-Athir, 496; Ibn al-Athir/Richards, 303–4.
39 Al-Hadid, vol. 3, 81; J. E. Woods, ‘A Note on the Mongol Capture of Isfahan’, JNES 36 (1977), 49–51.
40 Nasawi, 213; Nesawi/Houdas, 204; Juzjani/Habibi, 157; Juzjani/Raverty, 1,118–19; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 214; Juvaini/Boyle, 479.
41 Juvaini/Boyle, 250; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 205; Nuwayri, 297; May, ‘A Mongol-Ismaili Alliance?’, 239.
42 Kiracos, 116.
43 Vartan, 282; Vardan, 214; Kiracos, 116–17; M. Brosset (trans.), Histoire de la Georgie: Depuis l’Antiquité Jusqu’au XIXe Siècle (St Petersburg, 1849), 511.
44 Kiracos, 119–20, 124–5, 126.
45 Grigor of Akanc, 299–303, 319; Vardan, 214–15.
46 Kiracos, 124–5.
47 Brosset, Histoire de la Georgie, 514, 516; Peter Jackson, The Mongols and the West (Harlow, UK, 2005), 60.
48 Ibn al-Athir, 501; Ibn al-Athir/Richards, 307–8; BH1, 402; Al-Dhahabi, 233–2.
49 BH1, 404; Dhahabi, 235; Hadid, v3, 81.
50 Concerning Jebe’s death see Stephen Pow, ‘The Last Campaign and Death of Jebe Noyan’, JRAS 27, no. 1 (2016), 31–51.
51 Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 150; Juvaini/Boyle, 190; Juzjani/Habibi, v 2, 717–18; Juzjani, 1,284–5.
52 Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 157, 224; Juvaini/Boyle, 190, 269; RD/Karimi, 473, RD/Thackston1, 324; RD/Thackston2, 230–1.
53 SHM, §265.
54 Juwayni/Qazvini, v3, 9–10; Juvaini/Boyle, 553; RD/Thackston1, 326; RD/Thackston2, 231–2; RD/Karimi, 476.
55 Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 224; Juvaini/Boyle, 269; RD/Thackston2, 230–3; RD/Karimi, 474–6; RD/Thackston1, 325–7; Novgorod, 81; Zenkovsky/NC, v2, 307 Thomas T. Allsen, ‘The Princes of the Left Hand’, AEMA 5 (1987), 11.
56 Nikon, v2, 299, 304.
57 RD/Thackston2, 231–2; RD/Karimi, 476; RD/Thackston, v2, 327; Novgorod, 81–2; Nikon, v2, 308–9; IL, 518–20; EL, 104–5; LPLS, 437.
58 IL, 518–20; EL, 105–6; LPLS, 438–40; Novgorod, 82–3; Nikon, v2, 310–14; RD/Thackston2, 231–2; RD/Karimi, 476; RD/Thackston1, 327.
59 EL, 103; EL, 105; Novgorod, 83–4.
60 EL, 108; Nikon, v2, 319; Martin Dimnik, ‘The Siege of Chernigov in 1235’, Medieval Studies 41 (1979), 392; Alexander V. Maiorov, ‘The Mongol Invasion of South Rus’ in 1239–1240s: Controversial and Unresolved Questions’, The Journal of Slavic Military Studies 29/3 (2016), 481–4.
61 IL, 520, 522–5; GVC, 48; Nikon, v2, 320–2; Maiorov, ‘Mongol Invasion of South Rus’’, 484.
62 JPC, 71–2; JPC/Dawson, 29.
63 RD/Thackston2, 231–2; RD/Karimi, 476–7; RD/Thackston1, 327; Thomas T. Allsen, ‘Mongols and North Caucasia’, AEMA 7 (1987–91), 17–18, 21; V. Minorsky, ‘Caucasia III: The Alan Capital Magas and the Mongol Campaigns’, BSOAS 16 (1952), 226.
64 RD/Thackston2, 231–2; RD/Karimi, 477; RD/Thackston1, 327–8; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 225; Juvaini/Boyle, 269–70; Allsen, ‘Mongols and North Caucasia’, 17–18, 20.
65 Master Roger, 136–55.
66 Master Roger, 140–1, 172–5.
67 Master Roger, 174–7; Istvan Vasary, Cumans and Tatars: Oriental Military in the Pre-Ottoman Balkans, 1185–1365 (New York, 2005), 65.
68 Rubruc, 224–5; Rubruck/Dawson, 135–6; Rubruck/Jackson, 145–6.
69 Thomas of Spalato, R106–13, L293–6; Thomas of Split, 262–3; Master Roger, 180–3. Both editions of the Historia Salonitanorum atque Spalintonorum pontificum by Archdeacon Thomas contains the Latin text and a translation in Russian (Thomas of Spalato) or English (Thomas of Split). While the English version is on the opposition page, the Thomas of Spalato edition has the Russian translation in a separate section; hence R = Russian pages, L = Latin pages.
70 Thomas of Spalato, R111–13, L295–6; Thomas of Split, 269; MR, 182–5.
71 MR, 214–15; Thomas of Spalato, R117–20, L300–1; Thomas of Split, 288–95; RD/Thackston2, 632–3; RD/Karimi, 483; RD/Thackston1, 332; Chronica Majora, v4, 114.
72 Master Roger, 214–15.
73 Matthew Paris, v1, 317, 357; Chronica Majora, v4, 274–6.
74 Chronica Majora, v3, 488–9.
75 Chronica Majora, v4, 112, 273; Matthew Paris, v1, 317, 344–5; Peter Jackson, ‘The Crusade Against the Mongols (1241)’, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 42/1 (1991), 1–18.
76 MR, 218–25.
77 Denis Sinor, ‘Horse and Pasture in Inner Asian history’, Oriens Extremus 19 (1972), 171–84.
78 Matthew Paris, v1, 357, 489.
79 For an overview of the various reasons see Peter Jackson, The Mongols and the West, 1221–1410, 71–4; Greg S. Rogers, ‘An Examination of Historians’ Explanations for the Mongol Withdrawal from East Central Europe’, East European Quarterly 30 (1996), 3–26.
80 RD/Karimi, 488; RD/Thackston1, 335; RD/Thackston2, 238.
81 Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 158–91; Juvaini/Boyle, 201–35; RD/Karimi, 486–503; RD/Thackston, 1998, 334–45; RD/Thackston2, 237–45; Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 151–8; Juzjani/Raverty, 1,106–15; Johan Elverskog, Buddhism and Islam on the Silk Road (Philadelphia, 2010), 236–7.
82 Atwood, ‘Validation by Holiness’, 244–5; Sh. Bira, ‘Mongolian Tenggerism and Modern Globalism: A Restrospective Outlook on Globalisation’, IA 5 (2003), 107–17; Sh. Bira, ‘Mongolian Tenggerism and Modern Globalism’, JRAS 14/1 (2004), 3–12.
83 Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 152–7; Juzjani/Raverty, 1,007–15; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 161–3; Juvaini; Boyle, 204–6; RD/Karimi, 489; RD/Thackston1, 336; RD/Thackston2, 238.
84 Elverskog, Buddhism and Islam, 237.
85 Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 1,110–15; Juzjani/Raverty, 154–7.
86 Juzjani/Raverty, 1,106; Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 151.
87 Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 151–2; Juzjani/Raverty, 1,106–7.
88 Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 157; Juzjani/Raverty, 1115.
