9

The Ilkhanate

Most of the population of the Ilkhanate were Iranians, but it also included large numbers of Turks, Arabs, Kurds, Armenians, Georgians and others. Muslims were the majority, but sizeable contingents of Nestorian and Monophysite Christians existed as well, particularly in the western portion of the empire. Additionally, Buddhists, Jews and Zoroastrians practised their faiths. With thriving trade cities and mixed populations of pastoralists and agriculturalists, the empire was diverse. The imposition of Mongol rule did not radically change the style of government, as the ruling elite had been Turkic military elites since the eleventh century and Mongol rule had been established in much of the region since the 1230s. Nonetheless, the Ilkhanate faced many challenges as it entered the Middle East as a religiously neutral empire based on Mongol ideology instead of one rooted in Islam. For non-Muslim groups it permitted new freedoms, while for Muslims it was bewildering and often frightening as they experienced a complete paradigm shift as other religious groups now found equal standing under infidel rule. Yet, in a few decades the empire transformed into a true Islamic Empire, although aspects of Mongol political ideology and culture never disappeared.

The name of the state itself is interesting, as it is the only section of former Yeke Monggol Ulus that regularly acknowledged a subordinate status to another Mongol ruler. As explained previously, Mongke made Hulegu his viceroy in the region with the title of il-khan, although it was not used in diplomatic correspondence until after Mongke’s death.1 It is curious that Hulegu continued to use the title as the Yeke Monggol Ulus drifted into civil war and dissolution, as it was not immediately clear who was Qa’an. Much of his reign (1260–5) was complicated by incessant war with the Jochid Ulus as well as the creation of a functioning state. One might wonder whether Hulegu would have contended for the throne had it not been for the war with the Jochids. It was not until his successor and son, Abaqa, that the Ilkhanids Mongols were truly Il-Khans, in both title and function. Nonetheless, Hulegu used the title during his reign even though Chaghatayid rulers who submitted to Khubilai did not.

In addition to the Mongol government and military, the other major institutions were the religious elite of all sects. With the largest population, the Muslim religious elite posed the greatest challenge. The largest group was the ulema, the learned men of religion and law, who were connected to legal schools of thought or madhhabs. The madhhabs advocated a particular interpretation of the sharia or Islamic law (Hanifi, Shafai, Maliki and Hanbali). In some cities, these schools had rivalries with each other, which the Mongols exploited. Finally, there were the Sufi tariqats or brotherhoods. While the ulema, madhhabs and tariqats were outside of the Mongol government, they exerted an impressive amount of influence over the majority of the population. Proper manipulation and use of these groups made ruling easier just as ineffective handling of them made policy implementation difficult. A complicating factor was that none of these groups was organised at an imperial level and they could only dictate affairs at the local level. For the Mongols this was both a benefit and a headache. Finally, the Mongols left many local rulers in place. Their obedience and compliance with Mongol rule were expected. Compliance, however, did not rule out internal issues and even feuds between local rulers and the aforementioned groups.

Other religious groups also wielded influence. In the western portion of the empire, a sizeable Christian population existed embracing several interpretations of Christianity, including the Church of the East (Nestorians), Greek Orthodox Christianity, and a variety of Monophysite views such as those of the Armenian, Georgian and Jacobite churches. In some regions, such as Georgia, Armenia and Cilicia, and Trebizond, Christian majorities existed. For these, their rulers primarily represented their interests to the Ilkhanid court. In mixed regions, Christian interests found representation through their primary religious leaders, such as the Catholicus of the Church of the East, in what may have been a forerunner of the millet system of the Ottomans. Jewish populations also existed, but found themselves on the outside. They were not necessarily oppressed, but without ties to a significant military or political power they lacked influence. Only when Jewish individuals entered the administration did the Jewish community’s circumstances change.2 Buddhism, on the other hand, grew due its popularity among the Mongols. Although Buddhism had a long history in the regions comprising modern Afghanistan and eastern Iran, it had almost disappeared with the spread of Islam, but with the arrival of the Mongols temples were now found in western Iran and Iranian Buddhism experienced a spiritual renewal.

The Reign of Hulegu

Hulegu immediately faced challenges as he began ruling his new empire. Encouraged by the defeat at Ayn Jalut, Mosul rebelled in 1261. Sultan Badr al-Din Lu’lu’, who had submitted to Hulegu and sent troops against Baghdad, died in 1259. His son and successor, Malik Salih, initiated contact with the Mamluk Sultan Baybars. Tarkan Khatun, Malik Shah’s wife and daughter of the old Mongol enemy Jalal al-Din Khwarazmshah, informed Hulegu of her husband’s correspondence. Although the Mongols dispatched troops, Mosul’s resisted, trusting in aid from Syria. The Mongols, however, intercepted the messenger pigeon and defeated Baybars’ troops near Sinjar. The Mongols then donned their armour and wore their hair long like Kurds (rather than in braids) so that the Mosulis thought the Mongols were the expected reinforcements. When the garrison of Mosul sallied forth to attack the besieging Mongols, they discovered the ruse too late.3

The city resisted for another six months, but Malik Salih finally surrendered in the summer of 1262. The Mongols showed clemency and sent him to Hulegu, but most of the city was massacred with the usual exception of skilled artisans. After the Mongols departed, refugees who had escaped the slaughter gradually returned to the city. Malik Salih’s reprieve, however, was short-lived. According to Rashid al-Din, Hulegu ordered that Malik Salih be ‘covered with sheep fat, trussed with felt and rope, and left in the summer sun. After a week, the fat got maggoty, and they started devouring the poor man. He died of that torture within a month.’⁴ Hulegu also ensured that Mosul would not rebel again by having Malik Salih’s three-year-old son cut in half and left hanging on the bank of the Tigris as a warning to all.⁵

With internal issues settled, Hulegu pondered whether the old Mongol system should continue or whether it was time to change it to fit the unique composition of the territory he ruled. Although he retained many of the institutions and methods of the Mongol Empire, Hulegu (r. 1260–5) bolstered his bureaucracy with many officials native to the Middle East and appointed Sahib Shams al-Din Muhammad Juwayni as his vizier. To be sure, Hulegu’s focus remained on the nomads and the hereditary military elites. Two of his sons received substantial appanages to govern with Abaqa in Khurasan and Mazandaran, while Yoshmut went to Arran and Azerbaijan.6 It is notable that he entrusted these regions to his sons, rather than his generals, as the territories also bordered the frontiers of the Chaghatayids and Jochids respectively. Other commanders and elites (Mongols and Turks who arrived with them) also received territories to govern, serving as a stratum of authority above the local notables.

Despite the dissolution of the empire and subsequent civil wars, the Mongols still clung to the idea that Koke Mongke Tenggeri bequeathed the earth to the Chinggisids to rule.⁷ Therefore, they still needed to expand. Opportunities for expansion, however, became more limited with the end of the Yeke Monggol Ulus, largely due to wars with other Mongols. The Ilkhanate itself was bordered by the Jochid and Chaghatayid Uluses, the Mamluk Sultanate and the Sultanate of Delhi. In addition, the Kingdom of Jerusalem was close at hand, as was eastern Arabia. Furthermore, with the dissolution, parts of what is now Afghanistan became quasi-independent. Opportunities were there, but achieving them proved more challenging. At any given time, the Ilkhanate was at war with the Jochid Ulus and the Mamluks, who became allies. The border with the Chaghatayids remained tenuous and ill-defined, leading to many skirmishes and wars. Expansion into India was possible, but the Sultanate of Delhi placed greater emphasis on their defences against the Mongols, limiting most incursions to plundering expeditions. During Hulegu’s reign, circumstances prevented him from invading the Sultanate, although his efforts to secure modern Afghanistan had an indirect impact on the Sultanate via refugees.⁸ Furthermore, the wars that yielded little plunder were a drain on the economy, which suffered enough problems.

The region comprising the Ilkhanate suffered greatly from the Mongol conquests. Although the chroniclers’ claims of apocalyptic destruction in Khurasan and other areas must be ignored, one should not dismiss the notion that the destruction and death reached a level that astounded contemporaries.⁹ The Mongols rebuilt many cities not only during the era of the Yeke Monggol Ulus but also during the Ilkhanid period. Nonetheless, some locations never fully recovered. Baghdad transformed from a major international city to a less significant regional commercial hub, although it remained a centre of learning. At the same time, peasant flight was a constant concern. Unfortunately, when wars yielded little plunder, some Mongols raided the peasants as the army was a non-salaried institution. Being nomads they could subsist, but without the goods and wealth provided by plundering the enemy or the local population, the average nomad’s life was poor. Compounding the issue were the wars with the Chaghatayids and Jochids. The borders became war zones and led to peasants and nomads eschewing the frontiers, unless they were directly tied to the military. In many areas, this led to the breakdown of the qanat or karez system of irrigation. Furthermore, the wars also interrupted international caravan trade. At times, the wars with the Chaghatayids completely disrupted overland routes to the Yuan Empire in the east. As a result, the Wakhan Corridor in modern Afghanistan was often the only land link between the Yuan Empire and the Ilkhanate. 10

Qanat or Karez

The qanat or karez irrigation system brought water from the highlands to the lowlands through a series of underground canals and reservoirs. By keeping the water underground, less was lost to evaporation and this made arid regions bloom. It was, however, labour-intensive to maintain, and without a population to maintain it the karez system broke down and arable areas returned to scrub or desert. The system had been widely used since the ancient period, and some areas of Central Asia, Iran and Afghanistan still use it today. Access points followed the underground portion and permitted repairs to the underground channels. Additionally, the water cooled these spots, providing relief to workers during the summer.

Such was the Ilkhanate at the time of Hulegu and the situation that his successors faced. Greater challenges confronted Hulegu as he transitioned from conqueror to ruler in a very short amount of time in an age of uncertainty. War with the Jochids began almost immediately, giving Hulegu little time to create a government other than by cobbling together existing systems from the Yeke Monggol Ulus and incorporating the recently submitted local elites. Prior to his arrival, many of the regions in southern Iran were largely autonomous, without much oversight from the Mongols. Hulegu continued this practice and maintained a symbiotic relationship with a few states, such as the Salghurids in Shiraz and the Qutlugh Khanids in Kirman, as well as the Kartids in Herat.11 Hulegu also continued the Mongol practice of favouring minorities as a way of hedging their bets against assimilation; thus Buddhists and Christians of all varieties found their situations improved and quite favourable.

Map 9.1 The Ilkhanate, 1256–1353 © Mapping Specialists

The presence of Hulegu’s wife, Dokuz Khatun, a Nestorian Christian, lent greater emphasis to this for Christians, and she encouraged the building of churches throughout the Ilkhanate.¹² Dokuz Khatun, a former wife of Tolui, was also a trusted counsellor; indeed, Mongke advised his brother to consult her on all matters.¹³ The presence of a Christian queen, however, is not to say that the Muslims were oppressed. Certainly, Muslims did not enjoy the privileged position in society that they once did. Hulegu’s continuation of religious tolerance allowed for religious practice of all varieties and prevented anyone from prohibiting others from practising theirs. Nonetheless, the extension of favour to other religious groups in the Middle East assisted in extending Ilkhanid control by breaking the monopoly of power held by Muslims. At the same time, the Ilkhanid government employed numerous Muslims in various capacities within the government, as their priority was men of talent regardless of ethnicity or religion, as evinced by the presence of Hulegu’s Muslim vizier, Shams al-Din, and his brother Ala al-Din Ata Malik Juwayni as governor of Baghdad.14

The war with the Jochid Ulus was a territorial war. The siege of Mosul was extended by it, as Hulegu withdrew many troops to reinforce the Jochid frontier. The Jochids claimed the regions of Arran and Azerbaijan. This territory, in their minds, fell into the category of having been trod by the hooves of Mongol horses, which was the original designation given by Chinggis Khan for the limits of Jochi’s appanage.¹⁵ Mongke had apparently confirmed this early in his reign as Batu also acquired rights over the cities of Maragha and Tabriz.¹⁶ Other issues intensified the situation, including the execution of three Jochid princes, Balaghai, Tutar and Quli, who had been part of the army that accompanied Hulegu. Balaghai and Tutar had been convicted of sorcery, and Berke, the Jochid ruler, agreed with the findings.¹⁷ Their men, however, then attempted to flee back to Jochid territory. Some went north through Derbend, while others fled to another Jochid commander named Neguder stationed in modern Afghanistan as part of the tamma established by Dayir during Ogodei’s reign. Jochid sympathies in Afghanistan eroded Ilkhanid control of the Indian frontier. Still others fled into Mamluk territory and were welcomed by the Mamluks in alliance with the Jochids. Berke may have also nursed a grudge against Hulegu as the latter supported Batu’s widow, Boraqchin, and the claim of her infant grandson (Ulagchi) to the Jochid throne over Berke.¹⁸ Regardless, war began in 1262 as Berke Khan attempted to claim Azerbaijan. Much of the warfare was inconclusive with the Ilkhanids winning some battles and losing others. The frontier rarely moved.

In spite of the wars and of the creation of a state, Hulegu initiated the cultural life of the Ilkhanid state. This evolved into an astonishing period of creativity in Islamic arts and sciences due to Hulegu and his successors’ patronage of the arts; their support only increased with time. Near Maragha, his capital, Hulegu constructed an observatory for the Shia scholar Nasir al-Din Tusi. Although its primary importance was in enabling Nasir al-Din Tusi to stargaze and create accurate horoscopes for the royal family, Nasir al-Din Tusi also practised astronomy. As a result, the Shia polymath determined the Copernican discoveries almost two hundred years before Copernicus concluded that we live in a heliocentric solar system. He is said to have also invented trigonometry.19 Numerous other scholars and intellectuals also found Hulegu a generous patron and continued their research and work while receiving salaries. Religion or research topic did not matter. The Syriac monk Bar Hebraeus found patronage not only for his church, but also for writing a chronicle of the era. His work remains an important source for the Mongol period of the Middle East.

Judging from Rashid al-Din’s caustic but ironic comments, Hulegu invested vast amounts of lucre in his scholars, but not necessarily on results, particularly among the alchemists. According to Rashid al-Din, ‘In transmutation they had no luck, but they were miracles of cheating and fraud, squandering and wasting the stores of the workshops of lordly power’.²⁰ Although Hulegu initially established his capital in Maragha in north-western Iran, his successors gravitated towards Tabriz. Tabriz’s transformation into the capital of the Ilkhanid state also made it into a centre of international trade and industry, not to mention the cultural centre of the Ilkhanid world.²¹ As with Qaraqorum during the Yeke Monggol Ulus period, the Ilkhans tended to nomadise around their capital rather than dwelling within it.

The Ilkhans were not the only patrons of culture. Their wives also sponsored building projects and the arts. Famed for supporting the construction of religious buildings, Dokuz Khatun, a niece of Toghril Ong Khan, was often described in Armenian, Georgian and other Christian sources as an almost saintly figure in her charitable acts. Yet, despite her faith, she did not limit her good works to her own denomination or faith. Muslims and Buddhists also found ample support from Dokuz Khatun, and she appears to have enjoyed great favour among the entire population.²²

Abaqa

Hulegu died in February 1265, after months of battling an illness. His Buddhist doctors and other physicians could not cure the disease.23 Dokuz Khatun died in June of that year. Although the founder of the new state had died, his policies continued with his son Abaqa (r. 1265–82). The quriltai for Abaqa’s enthronement appears to have been little more than a formality, although his brother Yoshmut briefly challenged it.²⁴ Like his father, Abaqa became immersed in the wars with the Jochids, the Chaghatayids and the Mamluks, failing to devote proper attention to issues of governance despite a lengthy reign. This is not to say that the government was in a state of crisis, but rather that the state remained subservient to military needs and was largely a ramshackle assemblage of methods without well-developed institutions. Abaqa kept his father’s vizier, Shams al-Din Juwayni, which eased the transition of the new Ilkhan. Additionally, Abaqa enjoyed the support of the noyad. He also formally acknowledged Khubilai Khan as the Qa’an of the Empire.²⁵

The wars increased in severity during Abaqa’s reign, and in many ways became institutionalised, which enhanced the power of the noyad at the expense of the divan or bureaucracy.²⁶ The Mamluk war also became more aggressive. Sultan Baybars did not attack the Ilkhanate directly, but eliminated and reduced Ilkhanid clients, such as the Principality of Antioch and the Kingdom of Cilicia, which the Mamluk Sultanate bordered. He even invaded Anatolia, timing his invasions for when the Ilkhanid army was engaged with Jochid or Chaghatayid forces. The reasons for the wars became less important than simply the idea that they needed to be fought. Efforts at peace were rare because of the increasing institutionalisation of the wars. Of course, this affected the limited efforts to shore up the bureaucracy of the Ilkhanate, as the wars continued to drain fiscal resources as well as devastating the frontier zones.²⁷

War with the Jochids halted temporarily with the death of Berke Khan in 1265/6. Abaqa did not push into Jochid territory, having enough problems on his hands. Instead, he erected a wall defended by a deep ditch along the Kur River.28 This respite also allowed him to attend to matters on his northeastern frontier with the Chaghatayids, who also sought to claim Ilkhanid territory. As his father had dealt with Jochids within his own army, Abaqa dealt with Chaghatayids who had accompanied Hulegu’s army. The Chaghatayid Khan, Baraq, attempted to persuade them to join him. Most, if not all, did, but few reached Chaghatayid territory.²⁹ A Chaghatayid invasion, however, met with defeat near Herat in modern Afghanistan on 22 July 1270. Unlike with Berke’s death, when Baraq died (9 August 1270) Abaqa crossed the Amu Darya into Chaghatayid territory and sacked Bukhara.³⁰ Threats from Central Asia were minimal thereafter.

Abaqa also made considerable diplomatic efforts. He sent emissaries to Europe, who met with various rulers as well as the pope to discuss potential alliances against the Mamluks. Abaqa even promised that once Syria was conquered he would turn Jerusalem over to the Europeans.³¹ Yet, Abaqa’s diplomacy was not restricted to a western focus. Abaqa established formal relations with the Yuan Empire by formally acknowledging the primacy of Khubilai Khan as Qa’an. Their lines of communication extended over the land routes (when possible) and via sea routes. By formally establishing relations with Khubilai Khan, the Ilkhanate and the Yuan Empire exchanged not only material goods and technology but also personnel, as discussed in the previous chapter.

Abaqa’s life was largely consumed by the wars and by rebellions by the Qaraunas and Negudaris, groups that had links to the Jochids and Chaghatayids.³² He proved to be a strong and capable leader in a time of war, defending the empire on a number of fronts. He died on 1 April 1282 at Hamadan after a night of heavy drinking. While Abaqa upheld what Michael Hope has termed Collegial Rule, in which the noyad had considerable influence on the affairs of the state, Abaqa possessed a dynamic personality. Although the noyad wielded great power, Abaqa could keep them in check.

While the noyad’s influence grew, Abaqa took a laissez-faire approach to his civil government. As long as he had funds for the various wars, he allowed Shams al-Din Juwayni, his Sahib Divan or prime minister, to act autonomously. During this time a bureaucrat named Majd al-Mulk Yazdi gained Abaqa’s favour. Majd al-Mulk gradually accumulated evidence against the Sahib Divan and accused him of embezzlement as well as of conspiring with the Mamluks. While the latter charge was probably based on circumstantial evidence, the embezzlement was easier to prove. To his credit, Abaqa did not accept the evidence immediately, but investigated the matter privately. Ultimately, Shams al-Din remained as Sahib Divan, but Majd al-Mulk Yazdi now gained control over the income of the Ilkhan’s property, thus depriving Shams al-Din of access to it. He also made Majd-al Mulk Shams al-Din’s equal in status.33 With Shams al-Din humbled, Majd al-Mulk turned his ire against Ata Malik Juwayni. Although the charges appear trumped up, the Juwaynis had accumulated enough enemies over the previous twenty years for Majd al-Mulk’s efforts to gain support.

In addition to accusing him of embezzlement, Majd al-Mulk insinuated that Ata Malik Juwayni planned to turn Baghdad over to the Mamluks. Juwayni was imprisoned.³⁴ Furthermore, since Mu’in al-Din Sulayman, also known by his title of Parvane, the daruqachi of Rum had conspired with the Mamluk Sultan Baybars, culminating in not only a Mamluk invasion, but also a Mongol defeat at Abulustayn in 1277, Abaqa had reason to be suspicious of his non-Mongol civil servants.³⁵ He appears to have never fully trusted his Muslim officials again.³⁶ Majd al-Mulk may have risen in power, but he simply became a check to Shams al-Din’s authority.

The most powerful noyad, often referred to as the qarachu, sought to protect their own interests and a weak civil government aided them. With Abaqa’s death, the noyad sought a ruler who protected and upheld the yasa as well as their own prerogatives.³⁷ Unlike the quriltai that had selected the Qa’an during the height of the Yeke Monggol Ulus, the division of the empire into smaller states meant that fewer members of the altan urugh participated in the quriltai. Indeed, the only Chinggisids considered for the throne were the descendants of Hulegu; even other Toluids were excluded. Furthermore, fewer Chinggisids not only limited the number of potential candidates for the throne, but also restricted their influence.

The quriltai focused on two candidates, Teguder, the seventh son of Hulegu and his wife Qutui Khatun, and Abaqa’s son Mongke-Temur, whose mother Oljei Khatun also wielded considerable influence in the Ilkhanate.38 Mongke-Temur, however, also died, on 26 April 1282 near Mosul, possibly en route to the quriltai, which sunk Oljei Khatuns’ faction.³⁹ This allowed the noyad to wield greater influence in the selection and approval process, leading to the selection of Teguder (r. 1282–4).

The Middle Period

Teguder, a Muslim convert, is largely viewed as an ineffective ruler, not without reason, and as perhaps having been overly influenced by his Muslim viziers and his wives. It is not known when he converted, only than he converted from Nestorian Christianity to Islam in his youth, taking the name Ahmad.⁴⁰ Internal plots and attempted coups complicated his reign, but it is not clear if these arose from dissatisfaction with his abilities as ruler or were simply sour grapes on the part of the quriltai.

Internally, the rivalry within the civil government continued between Majd al-Mulk and Shams al-Din. Majd al-Mulk informed Arghun, Abaqa’s other son, that Shams al-Din had poisoned Abaqa.⁴¹ Shams al-Din, however, turned the tables and convinced Teguder that Majd al-Mulk conspired with Arghun to overthrow him. Evidence may also have been planted that associated Majd al-Mulk with sorcery. Investigators found a piece of lion skin covered in illegible writing in yellow and red ink. The court shamans and Buddhist monks agreed that it was a talisman of some sort. Thus we have one Muslim faction seeking to eliminate a Muslim rival by using devices that would convince shamans and Buddhists of a suspect’s ill intent. While Majd al-Mulk denied any wrongdoing, he failed to convinced the jarqu or tribunal. Although Shams al-Din sought to oust him from power and perhaps imprison him, his brother, the historian Ata Malik Juwayni and others with grievances against Majd al-Mulk demanded his execution. According to Rashid al-Din, ‘Ahmad’s decree was issued for him to be turned over to his adversaries to be put to death … and he was turned over at night to a crowd that tore him limb from limb’.42 This occurred on 14 August 1282.

The fact that Majd al-Mulk sought Arghun’s support and that Shams al-Din accused his rival of conspiring with Prince Arghun hints at a greater challenge for Teguder. Arghun was briefly considered for the throne. Many of the Persian sources suggest that Teguder gained the throne illegitimately and that Arghun was forced to consent to his election or risk his life. Yet, as Michael Hope has demonstrated, most of the noyad supported Ahmad – not only the regular military commanders, but qarachu as well. His mother, Qutui, played a crucial role in rallying support for Teguder, as did two of his wives, Toquz and Armani.⁴³

Nonetheless, Arghun felt aggrieved and eventually found support. He began his resistance to Teguder by replacing officials in certain cities with his own men. Teguder then countered and restored his own men, often beating or torturing Arghun’s representatives. When it appeared that Arghun was gathering troops while wintering near Baghdad, Teguder stationed his army within striking distance. Arghun, probably from frustration, then arrested one of Teguder’s daruqachin, placed him in a dushakha (a type of cangue), mounted him on a donkey, and sent him to Ahmad. The blatant and humiliating interference with Teguder’s rule could only be viewed as rebellion.⁴⁴

One member of the qarachu, Hindu Noyan, attempted to resolve the crisis, telling Arghun not to march against Teguder, insisting that Arghun had support in Khurasan, but that it would fail him if he actually took action against the Ilkhan. Arghun refused to listen. Hindu Noyan, apparently frustrated with the headstrong prince, joined the Ilkhan.⁴⁵ This, however, did not avert war. Unbeknown to Teguder, despite their early support many of the noyad became disgruntled.

It was thought by some scholars that Teguder’s conversion to Islam would also reduce tensions with the Mamluk Sultanate, something many commanders did not desire. Indeed, the coup against Teguder was long thought to have occurred because the generals disliked his conversion and his goal of transforming the Ilkhanate into an Islamic state. His correspondence with the Mamluks, however, suggests that religion did not alter Mongol political ideology. While one might have suspected that he would seek peace with his coreligionists, Ahmad Teguder maintained the Mongols’ right to rule the world and believed that because he was a Muslim the Mamluks should now submit to him.46 Not surprisingly, the Mamluks disagreed. Little came of his efforts as his generals deposed him, largely for incompetence and a haughty attitude. He failed to reward key supporters and belittled them publicly.⁴⁷ There were also concerns about his morality. Although many senior commanders also disapproved of his conversion and his pressure on others to convert, it was minor compared to other reasons as religion did not prevent them from supporting him initially.⁴⁸ One may also wonder if their disapproval came from the fact that Teguder never led them on a campaign against Mamluks, despite the tough talk in his letter to Sultan Qalawun. It is clear that despite their failed attempts, the Ilkhanid military viewed it as their duty to invade and conquer Syria. Teguder had no inclination for a campaign.

Teguder’s actions increasingly drove his former supporters into the arms of Arghun. While Arghun embraced the anti-Islamic sympathies of many qarachu, he had to be careful as many of the younger Mongols commanders had embraced Islam.⁴⁹ Arghun, however, still had insufficient support. Oddly enough, his moment came in defeat. As Ahmad advanced on Arghun, driving him from Rayy, Nawruz, a qarachu, advised Arghun to retreat across the Amu Darya. Instead, he surrendered. Teguder did not execute him, perhaps not willing to shed the blood of his nephew, rejecting the advice of his noyad, but he did execute some of Arghun’s supporters. A number of noyad, frustrated with Teguder’s lack of resolve, liberated Arghun in Teguder’s absence. With the new shift in loyalties, Arghun seized Teguder’s camp. With this, the loyalty of the entire Ilkhanate shifted and soon Teguder was captured, judged and executed.⁵⁰

Hulegu’s grandson Arghun (r. 1284–91) was selected as the next Ilkhan. A jarliq from Khubilai Khan legitimised his position as well.⁵¹ His selection was not surprising considering his role in the deposal of Teguder. Although he had the support of the noyad, Arghun also recognised the weakness of the military-dominated state. While he did not agree with Teguder’s desire to create an Islamic state, Arghun recognised the need to create a stronger civil administration that effectively not only supported the prerogatives of the Mongols, but also attended to the needs of the population so that the empire could thrive.

This idea, however, only came about after Arghun was firmly in power. Initially, Arghun ruled with the consent of the leading noyad, Buqu, who liberated him from captivity. Shams al-Din Juwayni also saw his fortunes fall. He was executed in 1284. Despite the numerous accusations against him, outsiders viewed him as quite capable and efficient.52 Buqu Noyan assumed the position of Sahib Diwan (prime minister) as well as amir al’umara (Commander in Chief), thus giving him control over the civil government as well as the military.⁵³ While Buqu wielded an amazing level of power, the other qarachu became governors of provinces and in many ways served as atabegs for Arghun’s relatives, who were also assigned appanages, Arghun’s brother Gaikhatu to Rum and Arghun’s son Ghazan to Khurasan and Mazandaran.

Buqu’s power was not unlimited. His qarachu rivals prevented him from intruding on their own prerogatives. Additionally, the altan urugh gradually asserted their own power. Buqu’s demise occurred because his arrogance alienated the other qarachu as well as the bureaucracy. When Buqu became implicated in a plot against him, Arghun could no longer ignore it. The Ilkhan ordered Buqu’s execution on 16 January 1289.⁵⁴

Buqu’s replacement was a Jewish physician, Sad al-Daula, who proved to be quite competent as Sahib Diwan.⁵⁵ The rise of a Jew in a Muslim dominated bureaucracy did not go unchallenged by others who coveted the position. After Arghun executed Malik Jalal al-Din, the primary complainant, Sad al-Daula’s faced no more open opposition.⁵⁶ While Sad al-Daula could not directly challenge the noyad, he did restore the independence of the civil bureaucracy.

Although Buqu no longer was a threat, Nawruz Noyan raised the standard of rebellion in Khurasan in 1289. The son of Arghun Aqa, Nawruz dominated much of Khurasan, even with the presence of Arghun’s son, Ghazan. Some princes even joined Nawruz.

In addition to the internal intrigues, Arghun’s reign also faced external challenges. A Jochid army invaded in March 1289, but the Ilkhan personally led his army to victory. Arghun never mounted an invasion of Syria, possibly because of the number of rebellions. Nonetheless, his rise to the throne did cause great concern to the Mamluks, possibly because they thought he would fulfil his father’s ambitions.57 Although the Mongols did not invade, the Mamluks raided the Ilkhanid frontiers.⁵⁸ Arghun engaged the Mamluk Sultanate in diplomacy and perhaps psychological warfare.⁵⁹ The success of the latter is debatable, but Arghun realised that despite imperial pretensions, he could not successfully fight a two-front war against the Jochids and the Mamluks. To this end, he not only received European ambassadors but also sent the Nestorian monk Rabban Sawma as an envoy to Europe in order to secure an alliance.⁶⁰ Rabban Sawma left a detailed account of his travels. Perhaps because of their concern about an Ilkhanid-Latin alliance, the Mamluks attacked Acre, the last major Crusader stronghold in Palestine, upon Arghun’s death.⁶¹ By then, the Mamluks had given the defenders of Acre no chance of rescue.

Arghun’s reign was not noted for military expeditions, unlike Abaqa’s. He did, however, restore the civil government to respect and authority at least equal to, if not greater than, the noyad’s.⁶² His reforms, however, proved somewhat ephemeral as Arghun died on 10 March 1291, presumably from mercury- and sulfur-based medicines prescribed by his Buddhist doctors in an attempt to gain longevity, although some suspected a Jewish doctor’s mal-practice.⁶³ With his death, the qarachu took their revenge. Sad al-Daula was killed and his supporters (Jews and Muslims) found their possessions pillaged.⁶⁴

Nonetheless, during his reign there was at least one significant change. Prior to Arghun, Anatolia had been largely viewed as a frontier region governed by a combination of tammachin and local rulers, which was a curious situation as much of the silver coinage of the realm was minted with Anatolian silver (known for its purity).⁶⁵ Anatolia also experienced much disorder, ranging from rebellions to Mamluk invasions. Under Arghun, Anatolia experienced proper incorporation into the Ilkhanid state. The exact method whereby this was achieved remains murky, but it may be presumed that it was assisted by the fact that a Chinggisid prince, Arghun’s brother Gaikhatu, resided in the region and brought some stability with his presence as his commands could trump those of local rulers as well as the tammachin.

Anatolia’s importance increased as the patrimony of Prince Gaikhatu. Gaikhatu’s access to the silver mines may also have assisted him in gaining the throne. His ascent was not without issue, however. His cousin, Baidu, was the initial claimant to the throne. A brief internecine struggle occurred as not all parties recognised Baidu’s claim. Rashid al-Din portrays Baidu as being manipulated by commanders who saw him as being more malleable than other Chinggisid princes. Baidu’s bid for the throne ended, though, in 1291 when the majority of his supporters decamped and joined Gaikhatu’s party in Anatolia.66 Gaikhatu ascended the throne on 23 July 1291.

Once in power and having dealt with Baidu’s supporters, Gaikhatu returned to Anatolia. It is not clear what he did there. Although he appointed Shiktur Noyan as his deputy (jarquchi) in Iran, nothing is explicitly said about Anatolia.⁶⁷ Afterwards he went to Tabriz but apparently did not stay their long, wintering in Arran at Qara Chali along the Kura River. There is some indication that Gaikhatu ruled from Anatolia, as late in 1291 there was a rumour that rebellious Turkmen nomads had killed Gaikhatu in battle. The rumour proved false, and it appears to have been instigated to frame Prince Anbarchi, a Chinggisid, as a rebel.⁶⁸ Gaikhatu reaffirmed his position by summering at the Ala Tagh pastures where the noyad and the altan urugh came before him and not only visibly offered their loyalty but submitted written pledges as well.⁶⁹

During Gaikhatu’s absence from Anatolia, the Mamluks proceeded to invade and lay siege to Qalat al-Rum on the Euphrates River. Gaikhatu sent two armies by different routes to Anatolia to deal with the situation. In 1292, Qalat al-Rum fell before reinforcements arrived. The Mamluks withdrew without further incident.⁷⁰ Despite this episode, Gaikhatu’s reign did not face external threats as the Jochids initiated a détente in 1294.⁷¹ Numerous rebellions, however, occurred. Not only did these include a rebellion in Yazd and Luristan by native leaders, but also many qarachu acted with virtual autonomy in the eastern portions of the empire.72

Although Gaikhatu was an active military leader, he was best known for his efforts at modifying the economy. From the personnel who arrived from Khubilai Khan’s realm, Gaikhatu learned how Khubilai Khan made paper money or chao the currency of his empire. Gaikhatu attempted this as well, recognising that the paper money would be more difficult to counterfeit or clip. In the modern era the use of paper money is ubiquitous; in the thirteenth century, however, its use was limited to Mongol China. Its implementation in Iran did not go too well. No one appreciated or completely understood how it functioned. Nor did they like Gaikhatu’s efforts to monopolise all silver coinage. Part of the issue was that Gaikhatu had exhausted the treasury through his own generosity and spending. His Sahib Divan, Sadr al-Din Ahmad Zanjani, who had complete fiscal authority and could ignore the noyad, also contributed to the crisis by failing to curb Gaikhatu’s expenses. As they introduced the chao, the bazaaris, the merchants in the bazaars of Tabriz, boycotted the change, causing commerce to come to a halt. Riots and rebellions erupted throughout the empire. They did not amount to much as they were not organised or unified, and thus easily quelled. However, because of the reaction in Tabriz, the only location where the government issued chao, it was abandoned within a fortnight. While the riots did not threaten to overthrow the empire, they did disrupt it. Compounded with Gaikhatu’s generosity and his Sahib Divan’s own fiscal policies, which left the treasury drained, the introduction of paper money was disastrous, albeit not quite as it has often been portrayed.⁷³ The message was clear: the world was not ready for paper money outside of China.

Counterfeiting and Coin Clipping

Paper money was a newer technology and thus difficult to counterfeit, unlike coins, which could be debased through counterfeiting. Typically, this was achieved by using less precious metals and then coating with them with silver. Coins were also clipped, meaning the edges were shaved or clipped, thus causing them to have less silver and less value even though they appeared to be the same size to the naked eye. It was a simple yet effective method for cheating the system.

After the failed effort to make chao the currency of the Ilkhanate, many commanders reconsidered their loyalty to Gaikhatu. His fiscal reforms also began to impinge on revenues the qarachu derived from their personal appanages as well as offices that had become hereditary.74 Some of the noyad also accused Gaikhatu of debauchery.⁷⁵ Baidu, still nursing a grudge against Gaikhatu, found many supporters in 1295.⁷⁶ Gaikhatu did not act decisively on the matter. Indeed, there is some indication that he considered abdicating and retiring to Anatolia. His advisors convinced him otherwise, but Baidu’s rebellion was short, swift and successful. On 24 March 1295, Gaikhatu and his chief supporters were executed.⁷⁷

Baidu’s reign was brief and he barely had time to secure the throne. In Khurasan, Arghun’s son, Ghazan, emerged as a challenger. A rebellion in the east by the Mongol general Nawruz prevented Ghazan from pursuing the throne when Arghun died. Although Ghazan was not pleased with Gaikhatu, he did not challenge him as Gaikhatu had been elevated to the throne through a quriltai. With Gaikhatu’s death, Ghazan no longer felt restrained, and gaining the throne through regicide did not legitimate Baidu as the ruler. While serving in Khurasan, Ghazan developed a considerable following among generals and administrators. When he advanced to make his claim to the throne, he learned that several noyad preferred Baidu. These, along with some other princes, held an impromptu quriltai (to which Ghazan was not invited) and formally elected Baidu to the throne. Baidu, however, seemed reluctant and appears to have served out of obligation rather than desire.⁷⁸ Ghazan’s army, however, won an initial encounter which led to a flurry of diplomatic exchanges. For a brief moment, it appeared as if peace would prevail with the Ilkhanate being divided between Baidu and Ghazan.⁷⁹ In the end, most of Baidu’s army deserted to Ghazan, ostensibly because of the latter’s conversion to Islam.⁸⁰ With the reinforcements, he had no diffaculties in evicting Baidu from the throne in 1295. Baidu was captured and executed in 1295.

Did his conversion play a role? It cannot be ruled out, but there are plenty of signs that Baidu’s reluctance to be the ruler inhibited his leadership at this time of crisis. As a result, many of the noyad and state officials, including those who opposed Ghazan, abandoned Baidu. Ghazan Khan’s reign (1295–1304) became a transformative one for the Ilkhanate, and during it Ghazan was viewed as either a reformer or a destroyer.

An Islamic Empire?

Ghazan proved to be one of those rare individuals in history who was both a good military leader and a good administrator, a combination the Ilkhanate sorely needed. Ghazan realised that the system was broken, yet Ghazan was even more revolutionary than most people realised at the time, perhaps even his supporters. He transformed the Ilkhanate into an Islamic empire. While the sources paint him as a Sunni with a predilection towards Sufism, Ghazan was also sympathetic towards Shia Islam, particularly in terms of the importance of the family of Ali.81

Naturally, this transformation angered many among the nobility and raised worries among many populations within the empire, yet in some ways it was unsurprising. Teguder’s conversion was not an aberration, and by Ghazan’s era it was increasingly common. Ghazan, despite receiving much of his education at the hands of a Buddhist monk, converted to Islam under the tutelage of a Sufi and the former rebel general Nawruz. Ghazan’s conversion before the battle with Baidu was dramatic, but he was probably leaning towards Islam prior to the battle. According to the Islamic sources, Nawruz convinced him and the army to convert after storms frustrated Ghazans battle plans and he then learnt that Baidu heavily outnumbered him. Ghazan and his newly Muslim army observed Ramadan before advancing against Baidu. Ghazan crushed his enemy and won a victory with the assistance of God.⁸² It is all a little too neat and tidy, but it did make excellent propaganda and certainly legitimated his cause.

When Rashid al-Din indicates that the army, inspired by Ghazan’s conversion, converted, he obscures a deeper change within the empire. Many Mongols had already converted to Islam long before Ghazan.⁸³ Ghazan’s own conversion was more in line with the majority of the Ilkhanid. At the time of their battle, Baidu was a Muslim, although he seems to have been rather lacking in belief as he also claimed to be a Christian, depending on the audience.⁸⁴

Figure 9.1 A Mongol prince studying the Qur’an. Illuminated manuscript page from Jamia’at al-Tawarikh (Universal History), by Rashid al-Din (1247–1318). Iran, Tabriz, c.1330 ce. Inv.: Diez A, fol. 70, p. 8, no. 1. Photo Ellwardt, Oriental Division. Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin. Art Resource, NY.

Ghazan also began his reign as many new converts do – with ardour to prove his new identity. Once in power, the long-standing practice of religious toleration came to an end almost immediately as Ghazan issued an edict ‘that all the bakhshis’ [Buddhists’] temples and houses of worship, as well as Christian churches and Jewish synagogues were to be destroyed in Tabriz, Baghdad, and other Islamic places, and for that victory most of the people of Islam rendered thanks since God had not seen fit to grant this wish to past generations’.85 It is safe to say that not all were destroyed, particularly in regions where the population was almost entirely of a particular religion, such as in Georgia and Armenia. Indeed, the jarliq indicated that the destruction should only take place in Muslim majority regions. Thus, in Tabriz and Baghdad, despite its cosmopolitan population, and other areas, clear religious repression began. Yet this was short-lived.

By 1296, Ghazan realised that, as a ruler, he could not persecute populations simply because of their religion. Charles Melville demonstrates that Nawruz initiated the campaign of destruction and Christian sources reveal that Ghazan had some difficulty in curbing Nawruz’s prejudiced tendencies. Nawruz even razed churches in Armenian territories. A mob tortured the Nestorian Catholicus in an attempt to convert him to Islam.86

Ghazan restored the privileges that the Georgians and Armenians held, including the right to build churches, and developed an amiable relationship with the Church of the East (Nestorians). He also cracked down on religious pogroms and revoked the jizya.⁸⁷ Periodic pogroms, however, did flare up, as in 1296–7, but they do not appear to have been state-sponsored as Ghazan punished the perpetrators.⁸⁸ For Buddhism, however, it was too late. He did not restore the Buddhist shrine dedicated to his father or allow other Buddhist temples to be rebuilt. Those temples converted into mosques were not restored. The other religions clearly fit the idea of the ‘Ahl al-kitab or People of the Book. Despite also having scriptures, Buddhism was difficult to portray as a monotheistic religion.⁸⁹ Furthermore, although Ghazan had a Buddhist childhood, the dire economic situation of the Ilkhanate made it unlikely that Ghazan had any interest in spending funds on repairing damage, even if those funds came from the plunder of Buddhist temples.⁹⁰ Buddhism survived Ghazan, but its foundations were undermined during his reign; as a result, Buddhism in Iran largely disappeared in the fourteenth century after making a resurgence under early Ilkhanid rule.

Ghazan’s faith did not deter him from fighting other Muslims. The Mamluks, protectors of the Holy Cities of Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem, faced invasion in 1299. Ghazan still adhered to Mongol imperialism, but may have sought retaliation for Mamluk support for rebels in Rum. Furthermore, civil war in the Jochid Ulus gave Ghazan a window for fighting a one-front war.⁹¹ Ghazan not only defeated the Mamluks near Homs at Wadi al-Khaznadar but also captured Damascus, although the Mongols withdrew to the Ilkhanate in February 1300 as inadequate pasture prevented the long-term Mongol occupation.92 Two subsequent invasions followed. While the second invasion in 1300 ended prematurely due to severe weather, the invasion of 1303 ended with an Ilkhanid defeat at Marj al-Suffar.

Ghazan also implemented a series of reforms throughout the empire. Among the most important was reviving agriculture.⁹³ The key component was protecting the peasants from the army’s depredations. If the peasants were safe, then the irrigation systems could be rebuilt and restore arable lands. Thus, the most important change for agriculture actually involved changes in the military.

In order to alter the attitude of the military towards the peasants, Ghazan needed to find a method of tying their relationship together. Aided by his remarkable Sahib Divan Rashid al-Din, he turned to an Islamic method of administration and assigned timars, or land grants. As a result, the Mongol warriors now received income from the revenues produced by villages and farms. Although some scholars have concluded that the Ilkhanid army became a medium-heavy cavalry force supported by fiefs, this did not happen. Instead, the military remained nomadic light horse archers.⁹⁴ The difference was that they now received a salary or stipend from their timar. While pillaging villages yielded short-term plunder, by not plundering the villages the nomads now had regular access to income.

Since the army now received stipends, they needed to be paid in a useful currency. Ghazan minted new coins, which were symbolic in many ways. The new coins were significant as they marked a return to silver and away from paper backed by silver. They also allowed him to mint coins in his name. Finally, he was able to demonstrate his commitment to Islam through the coins, as he replaced Mongolian inscriptions with La ilah illa Allah, Muhammad rasul Allah (There is no God but God, and Muhammad is the Messenger of God). Furthermore, his coins also indicated he was the Pad-i Shah-i Islam or Emperor of Islam.⁹⁵

The new coins led to other reforms in the economic system such as unifying the system of weights and measures in the market-places. With his relatively lengthy reign, Ghazan helped revived the caravan trade, which coincided with a true Pax Mongolica among the khanates. Finally, with the new coinage and unified system of weights and measures, Ghazan could standardise the tax system and form a more rational and institutionalised government.96

In all of these endeavours, Ghazan was assisted by one of the most remarkable individuals of the age, Rashid al-Din. A former Jewish doctor, Rashid al-Din converted to Islam and became the grand vizier of the Ilkhanate. He promoted the reforms of Ghazan although there remain many questions as to just how extensive they were. Rashid al-Din was also the author of the Jamia’t al-tawarikh or Compendium of Chronicles, our main source on Ghazan. Ghazan’s successor Oljeitu commissioned Rashid al-Din to write a history of the known world, one of the first efforts at a world history, although the focus of the book was on the Mongol Empire. He also included many regions outside of the Mongol Empire and demonstrated an incredible talent in research and organisation. While it is true that he wrote the book with a stable of assistants, the overall production of the book was his, particularly as he gained access to Mongolian sources, including the Shengwu Qinzheng lu, a Mongolian chronicle concerning the life and campaigns of Chinggis Khan. Copies that exist today are written in Chinese, but with a clear Mongolian idiom.⁹⁷ Rashid al-Din also copied large sections for the Jamia’t al-tawarikh. Additionally, he interviewed many Mongols from the court, including the ambassador from the Great Khan in East Asia, Bolod Chingsang.⁹⁸ Bolod was of particular use not only due to his age and deep knowledge of Mongol customs, but also from his time as a highly placed official in the Yuan Empire. While Rashid al-Din’s work remains as one of the most important sources available, upon reading the sections on Ghazan one comes away with the idea that prior to Ghazan’s reign the Ilkhanate was in a state of anarchy. It is worth noting that Rashid al-Din may have done this intentionally to demonstrate that, once Ghazan converted to Islam, the age of jahiliyya or ignorance (and anarchy) ended and just rule began.

Rashid al-Din also built a separate quarter in the city of Tabriz known as the Rabi’ al-Rashidi (Rashid’s Quarter). Here he housed not only his scholars, but also scientists and artists. Art production facilities saw Chinese, Persians, Armenians and even a few Italians working together and transforming art in new ways that affected Chinese arts and later influenced the Renaissance.99 Rashid al-Din did not limit his efforts to history and art. He wrote extensively on agriculture as well as on religion.¹⁰⁰ He did all of this while also managing the day-to-day operations of the empire; this in itself was no small feat.

Rashid al-Din continued his position as vizier after Ghazan Khan died from illness in 1304. Ghazan’s brother Oljeitu became the next Il-khan. Oljeitu (1304–16) made a monumental shift by building a new capital, Sultaniyya, located in Zanjan province in north-west Iran approximately two hundred miles south-east of Tabriz. Not only did the 1305 construction of Sultaniyya provide a physical demonstration of Oljeitu’s power, but the region provided excellent opportunities for hunting and other recreation. Oljeitu’s impressive mausoleum is the city’s signature architectural piece. Sultaniyya became a centre for artists and scholars due Oljeitu’s support of the arts.

Like his brother, Oljeitu also experimented with religions and eventually converted to Islam. His journey, however, was significantly different. He was baptised as a Christian as a child and named Nicholas, his godfather being Pope Nicholas IV.¹⁰¹ He later converted to Buddhism, and adopted or used the Mongolian Buddhist name of Oljeitu. He converted to Sunni Islam as an adult and adopted the name of Muhammad Khudabanda (servant of God). His conversion came more from the influence of his wives than his brother’s example. Disgusted with the incessant quarrels between members of the Hanafiyyah and Shafaiyya madhhabs over what he considered insignificant points of religion, which often led to riots, Oljeitu abandoned Sunni Islam. He briefly reverted back to Buddhism, but found this politically unsustainable, which also demonstrated just how far the Ilkhanate state had come since the rise of Ghazan. After visiting the shrine of Ali in Najaf, Iraq, Oljeitu converted to Shi’ism in 1309.¹⁰² He did not attempt a mass conversion, but his new faith did cause some blowback among the ulema, who made a pun on his name with a slight change in the script, so that Khudabanda became Kharbanda (donkey servant or donkey herder, a clear insult to a Mongol).

What’s in a Name?

For decades, many assumed that Oljeitu’s sobriquet Kharbanda was simply part of Mongolian tradition, in which the child is named after the first thing that catches the mother’s eye or as something that confuses spiteful spirits who might harm the child. According to J. A. Boyle, ‘Partly, at least, for euphemistic reasons the name was afterwards changed to Khuda-Banda (“Slave of God”)’. 103 I suspect this is not quite accurate. Why would a Mongolian mother name her child Khar-banda or donkey-herder? The fact that ‘khar’ means donkey is not an issue. After all, one of Chinggis Khan’s wives was Qulan, which refers to the wild asses of Mongolia and was certainly not a reflection of her appearance or personality. The issue is, why would a Mongolian mother name her child with Persian terminology? None of Orug Khatun’s other sons had a Persian or Muslim name until he converted. Qulanchi, the Mongolian equivalent of Khar-banda, would be understandable, but then it is not mentioned in the sources, and considering that the Persian chroniclers did not translate Mongolian names into their Persian equivalent, it is not likely that Oljeitu’s sobriquet would be the sole exception. Thus, I maintain that Khar-banda arose as an insult by the ulema.

Oljeitu’s reign was peaceful in the larger scheme of things. Oljeitu’s armies, led by Amir Choban brought the region of Gilan under Mongol control.¹⁰⁴ The mountainous area by the Caspian Sea had eluded Mongol control since the era of Chormaqan. He also swiftly dealt with the Kartid dynasty in Herat, which rebelled and had long sheltered and supported Negudari raiders in modern Afghanistan. During Ghazan’s reign, Oljeitu skirmished with Negudaris to discourage their depredations in Khurasan. He now decided to deal with them decisively, including those who abetted them.¹⁰⁵ As Oljeitu annexed Negudari territory, it provoked an invasion by the Chaghatayid Khanate in 1313 as the Negudari and Qarauna had entered Chaghatayid service. The invasion mounted to little, however, and the Chaghatayids soon withdrew. Peace continued with the Jochids, and while espionage and political intrigues continued along the Mamluk border, all was relatively peaceful, although Oljeitu did attack one fortress. This did not, however, appear to affect trade between the Ilkhanate and the Mamluk Sultanate.106 So good was the situation that, in 1305, Oljeitu wrote to King Phillip IV (the Fair) of France (r. 1285–1314) and informed him that the Mongol Empire was once again united as the Jochids, Chaghatayids, Ilkhanids and Yuan had all resolved their differences and recognised Temur Oljeitu, Khubilai’s son, as the Qa’an. He also suggested this might be an appropriate time to deal with their common enemies (i.e. the Mamluks).¹⁰⁷ The Pax Mongolica, however, did not last and the Mamluks avoided an invasion. In 1316, Oljeitu died from a stomach ailment with excessive diarrhoea, most likely caused by excessive drinking.

Figure 9.2 Fourteenth-century Mongol chain mail. Although the Mongols tended to favour lamellar armour, chainmail was not uncommon. (National History Museum, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia)

The Golden Age and End of the Ilkhanate

With Oljeitu’s death, Abu Said (1316–35) came to the throne at the age of twelve. The real power, however, rested with Amir Choban, the leading Ilkhanid military commander, but it was the perfect time for some to settle scores. A major change in the Ilkhanate occurred in July 1318, with the execution of Rashid al-Din after decades of loyal service. Accused of poisoning Oljeitu, Rashid al-Din denied it, but admitted prescribing a laxative to purge Oljeitu of his ailment. This only hastened the Mongol ruler’s dehydration and demise.108 Although he had served Ghazan and Oljeitu, Rashid al-Din was not immune from intrigue, particularly from rivals within the bureaucracy. Indeed, the fact that his trial and execution took place indicates that his rivals meticulously built a case to challenge the powerful vizier. Rashid al-Din possessed numerous enemies – political foes envied his power and wealth, rival scholars were jealous of his patronage and success, and then there were those who questioned his faith. Although Rashid al-Din had converted to Islam by the age of twenty-one (1268), his detractors never forgot his Jewish heritage. It was not an easy task to convince the court to remove him due to his performance as vizier and his character, but in the end they did.¹⁰⁹

Almost immediately afterwards, Abu Said faced a rebellion in the east and an invasion by the Jochids in Transcaucasia. The rebellion was crushed quickly, but the Jochids proved to be more difficult. Abu Said (age 14–15) marched against Uzbek Khan and met defeat as many Ilkhanid commanders fled. Fortunately, Choban arrived with reinforcements and defeated Uzbek Khan in a second battle. Choban then chastised the fleeing commanders. These commanders later rebelled and marched on Tabriz to place Abu Said’s uncle, Irenjin, on the throne. Abu Said and Choban defeated them in 1319.¹¹⁰

Abu Said and Choban continued to function well together and even achieved a peace treaty in 1322 with the Mamluks, ending their conflict that had begun in 1260. Even with peace, however, some tension remained. Abu Said, as a powerful Muslim ruler, exerted influence in the region and even proposed going on the Hajj and sending to the officials in Mecca the kiswa or black cloth that covered the Kaaba, much to the Mamluks’ chagrin.111 Yet these were diplomatic issues and the peace held for the rest of Abu Said’s reign.

Perhaps because no external threats existed, internal intrigue increased. Choban was not only the power behind the throne: he was also Abu Said’s brother-in-law as he had married Abu Said’s sister Sati Beg.¹¹² We must also consider that tensions between the two men occurred because Abu Said was no longer a twelve-year-old boy. By the time of the Mamluk peace treaty he was in his early twenties and most likely anxious to rule on his own and not in the shadow of Choban. Furthermore, Abu Said disliked Choban’s son (not Sati Beg’s) Dimashq Khwaja. When Choban ignored complaints presented to him concerning Dimashq’s behaviour at court, it annoyed the Ilkhan, who then encouraged Dimashq’s assassination. The final break came as a result of Abu Said’s infatuation with Choban’s daughter (not Sati Beg’s), Baghdad Khatun, who was married to Shaykh Hasan of the Jalayirs. Choban would not support a divorce, which deepened the rift. Open rebellion occurred, but Choban was killed in Herat when the Kartid dynasty refused to support the rebellion, having only recently regained the favour of the Ilkhans.¹¹³ Afterwards, Baghdad Khatun became Abu Said’s wife.

Abu Said continued to deal with intrigue, but overall the Ilkhanate prospered under his competent rule. In many ways, his reign represented the golden age of the Ilkhanate. Yet, it proved to be ephemeral due to a Golden Horde invasion. Abu Said promptly rode to meet the invasion but died en route. There were rumours that Baghdad Khatun poisoned him and even encouraged Uzbek Khan to invade. Her alleged betrayal came after she fell out of favour, either due to her conspiring with her former husband or because she became jealous when Abu Said favoured a younger wife named Dilshad Khatun, who also happened to be Choban’s granddaughter.¹¹⁴

Abu Said lacked a male heir and no other Huleguids proved to be strong enough in the Ilkhanate to be viable contenders. The day after Abu Said’s death, the noyad selected Arpa Khan, a descendant of Ariq-Boke, to be the new Ilkhan. He rose to the occasion and drove back the Jochids and also executed Baghdad Khatun.¹¹⁵ Yet, his Toluid legitimacy was inadequate to secure the throne. He further legitimated his rule by marrying Sati Beg, Abu Said’s sister.116 Still, rebellions from other amirs arose. As he attempted to quell them, the rebel commanders captured and executed Arpa Khan on 15 May 1336. A strong Ilkhan did not emerge. During this period, Sati Beg Khatun ruled albeit as a puppet.¹¹⁷ While military commanders vied to find a Chinggisid to raise to the throne, they also fought to ensure that their candidate would be the ruler. Between 1335 and 1344, eight Chinggisids sat on the throne, ‘ruling’ from various locales.¹¹⁸ Eventually, the qarachu dispensed with the charade and began to rule in their own name. Thus the Ilkhanate disintegrated into a small powers dominated by Ilkhanid military commanders, including the sons of Choban, and local dynasties all vying for power.

The Islamic Ilkhanate

Unlike with the Yuan Empire, there is no reason to employ counterfactuals to determine whether the Ilkhanate was an Islamic empire. It was by virtue of having Muslims rulers who also viewed the state as part of Dar al-Islam. Of course, it did not begin as such. With the elimination of the Abbasid Caliphate, Muslims had a very good reason to view it as infidel rule even as Muslim troops fought alongside the Mongols at Baghdad. Nonetheless, the foundations for an Islamic state were laid early in the Ilkhanate’s history. Beatrice Manz contends that the very destruction of the Abbasid Caliphate assisted Mongol conversion to Islam, stating: ‘A ruler could now become Muslim without placing himself beneath a higher power.’¹¹⁹ While conversion did not happen overnight, the door was now open.

Almost immediately, the Ilkhans used an Islamic-style bureaucracy, albeit one subordinate to the military. While an Islamic administration came into place early in the Ilkhanate, it is clear that Muslims were to the Mongols simply just another group of subjects without any exceptional rights or privileges.¹²⁰ During Arghun’s reign, more Jews found positions within the bureaucracy, largely due to the influence of Sad al-Daula. The Muslims took issue with this as they had previously dominated the civil government. Some Muslim sources, such as Khwandamir who wrote much later, viewed Arghun as a sworn opponent of Islam although there is little to support this. Indeed, while he may have disestablished Teguder Ahmad’s efforts to establish Islam as a state religion, there is no indication he purposefully persecuted Muslims for their faith.121 The bureaucracy remained predominantly Muslim, even if the upper echelons were not.

While Teguder reigned as the first Muslim ruler of the Ilkhanate, Ghazan rightfully deserves credit for transforming the empire into an Islamic state. Unlike his overzealous commander, Nawruz, Ghazan recognised the rights of non-Muslims. Muslim rulers traditionally protected non-Muslims and in returned they paid the poll-tax known as the jizya. Ghazan briefly permitted the jizya before rescinding it.

While other factors also played a role, Islam influenced the ending of the Mamluk–Ilkhanid war. Ghazan’s campaigns against the Mamluks demonstrated that even if they defeated the Mamluks, the Mongols still could not occupy Syria, at least not without dramatically altering their military and thus their nomadic identity.¹²² With the exception of some skirmishing, Ghazan’s invasions were the Ilkhanate’s last major military operations. Although Reuven Amitai downplays the role of Islam in ending the war, as Muslims have fought Muslims almost since the beginning of the religion, there is a perceptible shift in attitude after Ghazan’s death.¹²³ While it is conceivable that the Ilkhanids wearied of the perpetual war, the fact that the Ilkhanate was an Islamic Empire also opened other avenues to extend influence if conquest was not possible. As Muslims, the Ilkhanids could now negotiate as equals, particularly as Abu Said restored the Ilkhanid to Sunnism after Oljeitu’s flirtation with Shi’ism, making peace politically acceptable to the Mamluk Sultan.¹²⁴

Abu Said reign did not immediately end the war. While military action ceased, the Ilkhanid–Mamluk rivalry did not end. It just shifted, as Abu Said asserted his credentials as a Muslim ruler. As a result, the Mamluks discovered they had competition for the hearts and minds of the Muslim world. While Ghazan asserted his authority, his invasions did not win over the Mamluk population (or people elsewhere). It is doubtful if the Syrian population viewed the Ilkhanid Mongols with anything but hostility due to the looming shadow of war over sixty years, but Muslims removed from the omnipresent threat did not experience the immediacy of invasion. The most crucial front in this diplomatic war was the Hejaz, the home of Medina and Mecca. Here Abu Said encroached on the duties of the Mamluk Sultan (and protector of the Holy Cities), by sending curtains for the Kaaba along with other items with pilgrims from Iraq in 1319. This forced Sultan al-Nasir Muhammad (third reign, 1310–41) to also go on pilgrimage, ‘with the object of asserting his role as protector of pilgrims and paramount patron in the Hijaz’.125 This was all the more important as Abu Said managed to have the khutba or Friday sermon read in his name in 1318, challenging Sultan al-Nasir Muhammad’s hegemony over the Hijaz.¹²⁶ Additionally, Choban went to Mecca and funded the restoration of a well in Mecca and a madrasa in Medina, which then caused Sultan al-Nasir Muhammad to also perform similar good works in 1327–8.¹²⁷

Although Sultan al-Nasir reasserted his primacy in the Hejaz, Abu Sa’id continued to meddle. Ibn Battuta noted Abu Said’s magnanimous donation of alms to the Holy Cities.¹²⁸ Abu Said also once sent an elephant with the Iraqi pilgrimage to carry the mahmal. Charles Melville wrote:

The elephant was taken through the stations of the pilgrimage but perished outside of Medina on the way home. The foreboding provoked by the elephant appeared to be justified by the rioting that took place in Mecca, and its presence probably heightened tensions in the city. The inhabitants called 730 the ‘Year of the Elephant’, thus recalling the attack on Mecca in the year of Muhammad’s birth, though the threat on that occasion came from the Yemen. The upkeep of the elephant is said have cost 30,000 dirhems by the time it died, and no-one understood Abu Said’s motives in sending the beast. However, in the context of the rivalry for prestige in the Hejaz, it was clearly an ostentatious gesture designed to create an impression of the majesty and splendor of the Mongol ruler, building upon the position achieved by his earlier munificence.¹²⁹

These actions compelled Sultan al-Nasir Muhammad to respond and assert his authority in the Hejaz. Actions included patronage and political murders, as well as replacing officials as needed to maintain his status (and the Mamluks’ in general) as the Protector of the Holy Cities. As for Abu Said, while he failed to control the Hejaz, it did allow him an opportunity to demonstrate his piety. The pilgrims could not fail to notice the Ilkhanid display of wealth and generosity, of which they informed others in their homelands, thus providing publicity and propaganda for the Ilkhan.

Abu Said also forced the Mamluks to demonstrate their piety in other ways as well. After a series of storms in 1320, he became convinced that it was a punishment from God. As a result he campaigned against vice. His actions included dumping wine and cracking down on other illicit activities. In another example of ‘Keeping up with the Joneses’ or Chinggisids, Sultan al-Nasir Muhammad followed suit so as not to be outdone.130

Abu Said’s actions assisted in removing the lingering taint of the infidel from the Ilkhanids. The conversion of the Ilkhanate did not take place overnight. Sufis played a key, but perhaps overstated, role in the conversion of the Ilkhans, the noyad and, undoubtedly, the rank and file.¹³¹ The Mongol khatuns became patrons of Sufi orders as well as more mainstream imams and members of the ulema, funding khanaqahs, mosques and madrasas just as the Ilkhans did. The relative independence and power of Mongol women also caused some awkward moments for the ulema, as the Mongol women normally were unveiled in public. ¹³² As Bruno De Nicola noted, it is difficult to determine how the khatuns converted to Islam, but it appears that Mongol women converted at a more or less glacial rate, as did the men. Rather than dramatic conversions, it happened over time. Surely, the presence of Sufis and imams in the ordos of the khatuns contributed to the elite’s conversion, but our understanding of how the ordinary Mongols converted remains unknown.¹³³

Despite the transformation of the Ilkhanate, not all Muslims (within and without the Ilkhanate) accepted the conversion of the Ilkhans at face value. Besides the obvious lack of trust that manifested with the decades-long war, the ulema in the Mamluk Sultanate looked askance at the Ilkhanid Mongols due to their affiliation with Sufis and Shia Muslims, as well as their loose use of the sharia alongside their adherence to the yasa.¹³⁴ The latter point continued to be a sticking point for the ulema well into the later fourteenth century. For the most part, though, the successor states of the Ilkhanate were viewed as Islamic polities. It must be remembered that while an Ilkhan no longer ruled, the majority of the new rulers came from the Ilkhanid qarachu families, such as the Jalayirids and Chobanids.135

While Abu Said ruled as a Sunni, both Sufism and Shi’ism made considerable gains during Ilkhanid rule. Ghazan’s dalliance and Oljeitu’s conversion to Shia Islam were not coincidental. Hulegu’s destruction of the Abbasid Caliphate created a leadership vacuum in the Islamic world. The psychological trauma of the destruction opened the door to a shift from societal emphasis to a focus on individual morality and spiritual needs, which Sufism could provide.¹³⁶ Shias also benefited as the death of the Caliph ‘removed one of the pillars on which the constitutional theory of Sunnism had been built’.¹³⁷ Thus, Sunni claims to primacy were now in question. Furthermore, as the idea of a Caliph did not mesh with Mongol claims to domination, there was interest in other ideas of legitimacy. Undoubtedly, this also led to a number of post-Ilkhanid states, including the Jalayirids and Chobanids, having Shi’a leanings, culminating in the Safavids.

¹  Reuven Amitai, ‘Evidence for the Early Use of the Title Ilkhan Among the Mongols’, JRAS 1 (1991), 360–1.

²  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), 255.

³  RD/Thackston2, 362; RD/Thackston1, 509–10; RD/Karimi, 729–30.

⁴  RD/Thackston2, 362; RD/Thackston1, 510–11; RD/Karimi, 731.

⁵  RD/Thackston2, 362; RD/Thackston1, 510–11; RD/Karimi, 731.

⁶  RD/Thackston2, 364; RD/Thackston, 513; RD/Karimi, 734.

⁷  Reuven Amitai, Holy War and Rapprochement (Turnhout, 2013), 38–61.

⁸  Peter Jackson, The Delhi Sultanate (Cambridge, 1999), 115–16.

⁹  Juzjani/Habibi, v2, 120–8; Juzjani/Raverty, 1,026–51; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 118–19; Juvaini/Boyle, 152; Ibn Athir, 390–3, 398; Ibn Athir/Richards, 225–7, 230.

¹⁰  MP1, 62–4; MP/Cliff, 52–3; MP/Lathem, 79–80; MP/Marsden, 56–7; MP/YC, v1, 170–2.

¹¹  George Lane, Early Mongol Rule in Thirteenth-Century Iran (New York, 2003), 96.

¹²  BH2, 444; Grigor of Akanc, 341, 343, 351; Hetoum, 40–4; Kiracos, Kirakos, §60, RD/Karimi, 678; RD/Thackston1, 472; RD/Thackston2, 334; Vardan, 217.

¹³  RD/Karimi, 687; RD/Thackston1, 479; RD/Thackston2, 340.

¹⁴  See Lane, Early Mongol Rule in Thirteenth-Century Iran, 177–212; Esther Ravalde, ‘Shams al-Din Juwayni, Vizier and Patron: Mediation between Ruler and Ruled in the Ilkhanate’, in MME, 55–78.

¹⁵  Juvaini/Boyle 42; Juwayni/Qazvini, v1, 31; Peter Jackson, ‘The Dissolution of the Mongol Empire’, CAJ22 (1978), 209.

¹⁶  Jackson, ‘Dissolution of the Mongol Empire’, 209.

¹⁷  J. A. Boyle, ‘Dynastic and Political History of the Il-Khans’, in J. A. Boyle (ed.), CHI, v5, 353.

¹⁸  Jackson, ‘Dissolution of the Mongol Empire’, 223–4.

¹⁹  Lane, Early Mongol Rule, 213–25.

²⁰  RD/Thackston2, 364; RD/Karimi, 1,048–9; RD/Thackston1, 513.

²¹  For more, see Roxanne Prazniak, ‘Tabriz on the Silk Roads: Thirteenth-Century Eurasian Cultural Connections’, Asian Review of World Histories 1: 2 (2013), 169–88.

²²  RD/Karimi, 678; RD/Thackston2, 334; RD/Thackston1, 472; BH1, 435; Kirakos of Gandzakets’i, Kirakos Gandzakets’i’s History of the Armenians, trans. Robert Bedrosian (New York, 1986), 327.

²³  RD/Thackston2, 365; RD/Thackston1, 514; RD/Karimi, 736.

²⁴  Michael Hope, ‘The Transmission of Authority through the Quriltais of the Early Mongol Empire and the Ilkhanate of Iran (1227–1335)’, MS 35 (2012), 98.

²⁵  RD/Karimi, 742–3; RD/Karimi 1999, 517; RD/Thackston2, 367–8.

²⁶  Michael Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition in the Mongol Empire and the Ilkhanate of Iran (Oxford, 2016), 111.

²⁷  Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 117. For the Mamluk–Ilkhanid wars, see Reuven Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk–Ilkhanid War, 1260–1281 (Cambridge, 1995).

²⁸  RD/Karimi, 745; RD/Thackston2, 519; RD/Thackston2, 368.

²⁹  RD/Karimi, 750; RD/Thackston2, 522–3; RD/Thackston2, 371.

³⁰  For the Battle of Herat see Michal Biran, ‘The Battle of Herat (1270): A Case of Inter-Mongol Warfare’, in WIAH, 175–220.

³¹  RS, 182–3.

³²  Jean Aubin, ‘L’ethnogenese des Qaraunas’, Turcica 1 (1969), 65–95; Timothy May, ‘Ил-хаант улс ба Афганистан’, pp. 299–325, trans. D. Tod and D. Bayarsaikhan, in Dashdondog Bayarsaikhan and Christopher P. Atwood (eds), ИЛ-ХААДЫН СУДЛАЛ ШИНЭ ХАНДЛАГА ВГУУЛЛИЙН ЭМХЭТГЭЛ (Ulaanbaatar, 2016); Hirotoshi Shimo, ‘The Qaraunas in the Historical Materials of the Ilkhanate’, The Memoirs of the Toyo Bunko 33 (1977), 131–81.

³³  RD/Karimi, 766; RD/Thackston2, 543; RD/Thackston2, 384–6; Khwandamir, 62–3.

³⁴  RD/Karimi, 777; RD/Thackston2, 544; RD/Thackston2, 384–5; Khwandamir, 64.

³⁵  RD/Karimi, 775; RD/Thackston2, 542–3; RD/Thackston2, 385; Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 120–1.

³⁶  Amitai-Preiss, Mamluks and Mongols, 168–78; Hetoum, 46; Grigor of Akanc, 367.

³⁷  Hope, ‘The Transmission of Authority through the Quriltais’, 108.

³⁸  Bruno de Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran: The Khatuns, 1206–1335 (Edinburgh, 2017), 95.

³⁹  RD/Karimi, 778; RD/Thackston2, 545; RD/Thackston2, 95; De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran, 95.

⁴⁰  Reuven Amitai, ‘The Conversion of Teguder Ilkhan to Islam’, JSAI 25 (2001), 17–20.

⁴¹  RD/Karimi, 785–6; RD/Thackston2, 548–9; RD/Thackston2, 389–90.

⁴²  RD/Karimi, 786–7; RD/Thackston2, 549–50; RD/Thackston2, 390.

⁴³  Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 126–8.

⁴⁴  RD/Karimi, 789–91; RD/Thackston2, 551–2; RD/Thackston2, 391.

⁴⁵  RD/Karimi, 790; RD/Thackston2, 552; RD/Thackston2, 391.

⁴⁶  Reuven Amitai, ‘The Conversion of Teguder, 30–34; A. Allouche, ‘Teguder’s Ultimatum to Qalawun’, IJMES 22 (1990), 437–46.

⁴⁷  RD/Karimi, 793–5; RD/Thackston2, 554–5; RD/Thackston2, 393–4.

⁴⁸  Amitai, ‘The Conversion of Teguder’, 38–43.

⁴⁹  Amitai, ‘The Conversion of Teguder’, 38–43.

⁵⁰  RD/Karimi, 796–800; RD/Thackston2, 556–9; RD/Thackston2, 394–6.

⁵¹  RD/Karimi, 812; RD/Thackston2, 566; RD/Thackston2, 401.

⁵²  BH1, 473; RD/Karimi, 821; RD/Thackston2, 573; RD/Thackston2, 406.

⁵³  RD/Karimi, 814–15; RD/Thackston2, 568; RD/Thackston2, 403.

⁵⁴  RD/Karimi, 817–18; RD/Thackston2, 570; RD/Thackston2, 404–5; Khwandamir, 72–3.

⁵⁵  J. A. Boyle, ‘Dynastic and Political History of the Il-Khans’, CHI, v5, 369–70.

⁵⁶  RD/Karimi, 819–20; RD/Thackston2, 571–2; RD/Thackston2, 405.

⁵⁷  BH1, 472.

⁵⁸  BH1, 483.

⁵⁹  Reuven Amitai, ‘An Exchange of Letters in Arabic between Abaγa Ilkhan and Sultan Baybars (A. H. 667/A. D. 1268–69)’, CAJ 38 (1994), 11–33.

⁶⁰  BH1, 492; RS, passim. Also see Denise Aigle, The Mongol Empire between Myth and Reality (Leiden, 2014), 184–8; Reuven Amitai, Holy War and Rapprochement, 52–3; Reuven Amitai, ‘Edward of England and Abagha Ilkhan: A Reexamination of a Failed Attempt at Mongol–Frankish Cooperation’, in M. Gervers and J. M. Powell (eds), Tolerance and Intolerance: Social Conflict in the Age of the Crusades (Syracuse, NY, 2001), 75–82.

⁶¹  BH1, 492–3.

⁶²  BH1, 490; Khwandamir 73.

⁶³  RD/Karimi, 823; RD/Thackston 1999, 574; RD/Thackston2, 407; BH1, 490.

⁶⁴  RD/Karimi, 824–5; RD/Thackston 1999, 575; RD/Thackston2, 408; BH1, 490–1.

⁶⁵  See Judith Kolbas, Timothy May and Vlastimil Novak, Anatolian Early 14th Century Coin Hoard (Prague, 2011).

⁶⁶  RD/Thackston2, 408; RD/Thackston2, 576; RD/Karimi, 826.

⁶⁷  RD/Thackston2, 411–12; RD/Thackston2, 581; RD/Karimi, 832.

⁶⁸  RD/Thackston2, 411–12; RD/Thackston2, 582; RD/Karimi, 832.

⁶⁹  RD/Thackston2, 412; RD/Thackston2, 582; RD/Karimi, 833.

⁷⁰  RD/Karimi, 833–4; RD/Thackston2, 582–3; RD/Thackston2, 412.

⁷¹  Boyle, ‘History of the Ilkhans’, 374.

⁷²  Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 148–51.

⁷³  BH1, 496–7; RD/Karimi, 835–6; RD/Thackston2, 584; RD/Thackston2, 413–14; Khwandamir, 76–7; Judith Kolbas, The Mongols in Iran (London, 2006), 290–1.

⁷⁴  Hope, ‘The Transmission of Authority through the Quriltais’, 108.

⁷⁵  BH1, 494; Khwandamir, 75.

⁷⁶  BH1, 494–500; RD/Karimi, 835–6; RD/Thackston2, 583–5; RD/Thackston2, 414–15.

⁷⁷  RD/Thackston2, 415; RD/Thackston1, 586; RD/Karimi, 837–8; RS, 208.

⁷⁸  RD/Thackston2, 433; RD/Thackston, 613–14; RD/Karimi, 884–5; RS, 208.

⁷⁹  RD/Thackston2, 435–5; RD/Thackston1, 614–16; RD/Karimi, 885–90.

⁸⁰  RD/Thackston2, 437–8; RD/Thackston1, 619–20; RD/Karimi, 900–3.

⁸¹  RD/Thackston2, 472; RD/Thackston1, 676–7; RD/Karimi, 984–5; Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 176; Charles Melville, ‘Padshah-i Islam: The Conversion of Sultan Mahmud Ghazan Khan’, Pembroke Papers 1 (1990), 160.

⁸²  RD/Karimi, 903–4, 912–15; RD/Thackston2, 621, 625–6; RD/Thackston2, 438–9. For alternative accounts see Melville, ‘Padshah-i Islam’, 159–77.

⁸³  BH1, 505.

⁸⁴  BH1, 505; RS, 206; Melville, ‘Padshah-i Islam’, 166.

⁸⁵  RD/Thackston2, 439, 471; RD/Thackston2, 471; RD/Thackston2, 676; RD/Karimi, 983–4.

⁸⁶  Melville, ‘Padshah-i Islam’, 170; BH1, 506–8; RS, 210–19.

⁸⁷  RS, 221.

⁸⁸  RS, 226–30.

⁸⁹  RD/Thackston2, 471; Richard Foltz, Spirituality in the Land of the Noble (London, 2004), 73; Richard Foltz, Religions of Iran from Prehistory to the Present (London, 2013), 103–4.

⁹⁰  Johan Elverskog, Buddhism and Islam on the Silk Road (Philadelphia, 2010), 41; Kolbas, Mongols in Iran, 311–13.

⁹¹  Reuven Amitai, ‘Whither the Ilkhanid Army? Ghazan’s First Campaign into Syria (1299–1300), in WIAH, 221–2.

⁹²  Amitai, ‘Whither the Mongol Army?’, 258–60.

⁹³  RD/Thackston2, 499, 527–31.

⁹⁴  A. P. Martinez, ‘Some Notes on the Il-Xanid Army’, AEMA 6 (1986), 129–242. For the refutation, see Reuven Amitai, ‘Turko-Mongolian Nomads and the Iqta’ System in the Islamic Middle East (CA. 1000–1400)’, in Anatoly M. Khazanov and Andre Wink (eds), Nomads in the Sedentary World (London, 2001), 152–71. Also see Reuven Amitai, ‘Continuity and Change in the Mongol Army of the Ilkhanate’, in MME, 38–52.

⁹⁵  Kolbas, Mongols in Iran, 295, 300, 322–33.

⁹⁶  RD/Thackston2, 506–7.

⁹⁷  EMME, 499; David Morgan, The Mongols (Oxford, 2007), 11.

⁹⁸  Thomas T. Allsen, Culture and Conquest in Mongol Eurasia (New York, 2001), 59–82.

⁹⁹  Timothy May, The Mongol Conquests in World History (London, 2012), 241–7.

¹⁰⁰  Allsen, Culture and Conquest, 116–22; Dorothea Krawulsky, The Mongol Ilkhans and Their Vizier Rashid al-Din (Frankfurt, 2011), 123–7; Ann K. S. Lambton, ‘The Athar wa ahya’ of Rashid al-Din Fadl Allah Hamadani and His Contribution as an Agronomist, Arboriculturist and Horticulturalist’, in MEL, 126–54.

¹⁰¹  ‘Oldjeytu’, EI².

¹⁰²  IB1, 157; IB2, 71; also see Judith Pfeiffer, ‘Conversion Versions: Sultan Oljeytu’s Conversion to Shi’ism (709/1309) in Muslim Narrative Sources’, MS 22 (1999), 35–68.

¹⁰³  IB1, 173; IB2, 77; J. A. Boyle, ‘Dynastic and Political History of the Il-Khans’, in CHI, v5, 398; IB2, 77.

¹⁰⁴  See Charles Melville, ‘The Ilkhan Oljeitu’s Conquest of Gilan (1307): Rumor and Reality’, in MEL, 73–125.

¹⁰⁵  Khwandamir, 83, 210–13.

¹⁰⁶  Khwandamir, 109; Amitai, Mongols and Mamluks, 211.

¹⁰⁷  Oljeitu, ‘Lettre d’Olejeitu à Phillippe le Bel, datée de 1305’, in Antoine Mostaert and Francis Woodman Cleaves (eds and trans.), Les Lettres de 1289 et 1305 des ilkhan Arγun et Oljeitu à Philippe le Bel (Cambridge, MA, 1962), 55–7.

¹⁰⁸  Krawulsky, The Mongol Ilkhans and Their Vizier Rashid al-Din, 133–4.

¹⁰⁹  Krawalusky, The Mongol Ilkhans and Their Vizier Rashid al-Din, 122.

¹¹⁰  Khwandamir, 114–15; also see Charles Melville, ‘Abu Said and the Revolt of the Amirs in 1319’, in Denise Aigle (ed.), L’Iran Face à La Domination Mongole (Tehran, 1997), 89–120.

¹¹¹  Anne Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology in the Islamic and Mongol Worlds (Cambridge, 2008), 103–14; Charles Melville, ‘“The Year of the Elephant”: Mamluk–Mongol Rivalry in the Hejaz in the Reign of Abu Sad (1317–1335)’, Studia Iranica 21 (1992), 197–214.

¹¹²  Khwandamir, 115.

¹¹³  IB1, 174; IB2, 78; Khwandamir, 116–18; Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 192–3.

¹¹⁴  IB1, 174; IB2, 78; Khwandamir, 120, 122, 124; IB2, 78.

¹¹⁵  IB1, 174; IB2, 78; Khwandamir, 123–4; De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran, 102.

¹¹⁶  De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran, 103.

¹¹⁷  De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran, 103.

¹¹⁸  Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition, 196.

¹¹⁹  Beatrice F. Manz, ‘The Empire of Tamerlane as an Adaptation of the Mongol Empire’, JRAS 26/i–ii, 282.

¹²⁰  BH1, 490.

¹²¹  Reuven Amitai, ‘Sufis and Shamans: Some Remarks on the Islamization of the Mongols in the Ilkhanate’, JESHO 42/1 (1999), 32.

¹²²  Reuven Amitai, ‘The Resolution of the Mongol–Mamluk war’, in MTO, 374.

¹²³  Amitai, ‘Resolution of the Mongol–Mamluk War’, 377.

¹²⁴  Amitai, ‘Resolution of the Mongol–Mamluk War’, 378–84; Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology, 101.

¹²⁵  Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology, 102–3; Charles Melville, ‘The Year of the Elephant’, 202–4.

¹²⁶  Melville, ‘Year of the Elephant’, 201.

¹²⁷  Melville, ‘Year of the Elephant’, 206.

¹²⁸  Melville, ‘Year of the Elephant’, 207.

¹²⁹  Melville, ‘Year of the Elephant’, 208.

¹³⁰  Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology, 104.

¹³¹  Reuven Amitai, ‘Sufis and Shamans’, 27–9; Devin DeWeese, ‘Islamisation, 120–34.

¹³²  De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran, 194–8.

¹³³  De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran, 205–7.

¹³⁴  See Denise Aigle, The Mongol Empire between Myth and Reality: Studies in Anthropological History (Leiden, 2014), 134–56, 283–304.

¹³⁵  Patrick Wing, The Jalayirids (Edinburgh, 2016); H. R. Roemer, ‘The Jalayirids, Muzaffarids and Sarbadars’, in Peter Jackson (ed.), CHI, v6, 1–41.

¹³⁶  Moojan Momen, An Introduction to Shii Islam (New Haven, 1985), 90.

¹³⁷  Momen, Shi’i Islam, 91.