(ca. 1155/1166 - 1227)
1. Genghis Rise to Power
I was satisfied that Genghis left a mark on humanity. Having unified the warring Mongolian tribes, he beat the Tatars and then proceeded to conquer the North of China. There could be no doubt about his brutality and cruelty. These, though, were inflicted on his enemies. His own mighty horsemen were treated by him with consideration. Unlike Napoleon he spared his troops. Thus, when he broke through the Great Wall he thought it best not to storm it. Instead, he waited patiently until one of the defenders was bribed and opened a gate to him. Genghis demolished part of the wall, paid the agreed bribe to the defector and then had him killed because traitors were despicable.
Genghis used the same approach when he besieged the Chinese capital (modern Beijing). He conquered and destroyed the small towns in the vicinity but refrained from assaulting the fortified capital until one of the gates was opened by a traitor and the Mongol army took the city by storm.
Genghis might have been satisfied with the empire that had by then come under his yoke. Acting in good faith he offered to establish a trading relationship with the neighbouring Persian (Khwarazmian) empire. When his emissaries were killed and his approaches rebuffed, he set out on a punitive expedition. Having divided his army into three units he crossed the Pamir Mountains. The harsh conditions forced him to abandon some of the siege equipment he had acquired in China. Fortunately, his soldiers survived the ordeal by drinking blood taken from the veins of their hardy horses. Even so, he might have perished had it not been for a guide who led him through the treacherous plateau.
“Yes,” observed Theophil who suddenly materialised in front of our eyes, “he needed a guide and he found one!”
“I thought you were a non-interventionist, Maestro,” I protested.
“True, but sometimes – at crucial junctures – I show my hand.”
“So, it was a major development?” asked Moti.
“It was, indeed,” explained the ‘Master of Darkness’. “Genghis’ empire was an important step in bringing Western and Eastern civilizations together. And, amongst other achievements, he saw to it that the Silk Road remained passable.”
Genghis’ conquest of the Persian Empire demonstrated his approach to warfare. Having taken Bukhara by storm, he set some of the captives apart and used them as human shields when his fighters advanced on Samarkand. The defenders were unwilling to harm the fugitives driven by the Mongols. When Genghis’ army was close to the fortifications of their target, they slaughtered the captives and, over their dead bodies, attacked and took the town. They then put its population to the sword, except skilled workers, who were deported to Mongolia, and women treated as spoils of war.
“How nasty!” exclaimed Tiger. Moti nodded. Archie, to my surprise, looked dubious.
“What’s on your mind, Archie?” asked Theophil, who was still with us.
“Depends on how you look at it. The human shields protected the first rows of the attacking Mongols. Genghis protected the lives of his soldiers. It is sad that the prisoners perished. But then, the Mongols would have slaughtered them in any event when Bukhara fell.”
Genghis followed his conquest of the Persian Empire by subduing many states of Asia, of the Balkan and around the Caspian Sea. His successors conquered the South of China and parts of Eastern Europe including Kiev and its Kingdom. After his death, the vast Empire was effectively divided into four regions: China; the former Persian Empire, which became known as the Ilkhanate; the holdings in Europe, known as the Golden Horde; and the Mongolian steppe, with its capital Karakorum.
The Mongol penchant for sheer brutality is indisputable. Genghis, though, had an open mind. His approach to warfare and to the administration of the empire were influenced by the guidance of Yelü Chucai, who became the Khan’s trusted adviser. Having entered Genghis’ service after the conquest of Northern China, the sage taught his master siege techniques and familiarised him with Chinese weaponry. He also assisted him in building up the administrative machinery and the modernised communications system which enabled the forwarding of messages by riders, who were able to get fresh horses at the designated stations en route.
“Genghis’ main feat is his victories. He never lost a battle, regardless of whether his troops outnumbered the enemy or vice versa,” said Theophil. “His influence on the development of civilisations was a side effect. You picked him on account of his standing as a warrior.”
2. A Lengthy Chat with Genghis
Genghis was known for the hospitality he showed to foreigners coming in peace or as emissaries. In the circumstances, Tiger did not feel I needed protection. Further, he was not interested in meeting a hero whose name inspired awe and terror. Moti took the same view. Archie, though, was keen to accompany me. He wanted to have a chat with Genghis.
We materialised in Genghis’ headquarters after his victories. By then he had become the ruler of a vast empire, had already chosen his third son, Ogedei, as successor and trusted that this new monarch would expand his kingdom. Despite Genghis’ piercing eyes and stern manner, he did not appear malevolent. He looked at us with patent surprise.
“From where do you are come?” he wanted to know.
“Archie lived some one thousand and four hundred years before you; I lived six hundred and fifty years after you. However, both of us have died and you see our spirits.”
“That is strange,” retorted Genghis, “what brings you together and what do you want from me?”
Genghis listened attentively to my story. Archie added that he decided to join me because he wanted to meet the great tactician. He then explained how he had planned to set the enemy’s navy on fire by a use of mirrors but failed because the oncoming vessels were arranged in an unexpected formation.
“I have never fought a naval battle,” explained Genghis. “My men were horsemen. But I see a flaw in your tactics. You relied on the way you anticipated the enemy to form his troops. My method was to form my plan only when I was familiar with my enemy’s strategy.”
“But in many cases you had a master plan before you went on the attack,” I felt the need to intervene. “For instance, you divided your army into three groups before you crossed the Pamirs.”
“I did,” he conceded. “But I knew that a pincer movement would annihilate the Shah’s troops. It was the only feasible way to ensure victory.”
“This means that when necessary you planned a campaign before it started,” pointed out Archie.
“I did,” he replied unflinchingly; “but in most battles the odds favoured me.”
“Please explain,” Archie and I spoke in unison.
“My men and their horses were hardy. They could fight well during winters. Each soldier had to provide his outfit and four or five horses, usually mares. The horses had to be led to grazing pastures but, in the ultimate, fed on seeds still covered with earth: they dug them out. My men knew how to live off the land. They drank mare’s milk and if needed would butcher some horses for meat. They ate sparsely and when necessary placed slices of meat in their saddles.”
“So, this is the origin of the famed Mongolian steak,” I stepped in.
“It is; and so usually I did not have the problem of supply lines. And I did not have to train my men. Every Mongolian youth became a skilful warrior in his late teens. He could fire arrows whilst riding; he knew how to jump from a tiring horse’s back to a fresh one; and he was keen to show valour in combat.”
“How were they organised?” I wanted to know.
“Larger groups, split into smaller ones. Usually, six of each group of ten were light cavalry. Their task was to overwhelm and confuse the enemy. The four heavy cavalry men were well armed and, basically, destroyed the remaining enemy troops. When necessary, the cavalry would fight on foot – as infantry.”
“Were the horses shielded when in action?”
“They had armour. We had to protect them: they were our fighting tool.”
“I see,” I told him. “Actually, which were your toughest campaigns?”
“The skirmishes leading to the unification of the wild tribes of the steppe. Once they made me their Khakan – their leader – there was nothing to stop me.”
“History books tell us that you attacked the Persian Empire to avenge the insults which they inflicted on you when they disgraced your emissaries. But I wonder if you wouldn’t have set out to conquer them in any event.”
“I cannot be sure. We became neighbours and, as you know, proximity leads to disputes. Originally, though, I strove for peaceful coexistence. Also, bear in mind that the Pamir Mountains were a sound and natural border.”
“But once you decided to fight, you set out to annihilate the Shah’s empire altogether.”
“I did. An enemy ceases to be dangerous only once he is dead.”
“Did you have to be so brutal?” asked Archie.
“My name preceded me: its very mention terrorised those confronted by me. It induced opponents to capitulate. I usually spared cities which opened their gates to me: they had to pay a ransom.”
“What sort of tactics did you favour?” I wanted to know.
“My generals often feigned retreats and lured the enemy into an ambush. When the foe, tired by the pursuit, confronted the fresh warriors waiting for him, his fate was sealed.”
“One of your strengths was the spirit and tenacity of your men. What else was a major factor?”
“I chose my generals without regard to their background. Both Subutai and Jebei came from humble origins. I noted their zeal, courage and resourcefulness. I put them in charge of battles. They never let me down. They merited command.”
“The same yardstick guided Napoleon Bonaparte: another great tactician. However, his men were not as accomplished as yours. And he was defeated in Russia.”
“Tell me about that battle,” Genghis asked.
He listened attentively to my description of Napoleon’s march on Russia, to the details of the battle of Borodino and to the retreat after Moscow was burned down by the defenders. Genghis then wanted to know why Napoleon declared war on Russia. Did he wish to annex the country to his emerging empire? He was surprised when I explained that Bonaparte’s main object was to induce the Czar [Tsar] to sue for peace and undertake to honour the blockade imposed by Napoleon on British merchant ships.
“But that was far-fetched,” opined Genghis. “Why didn’t he lay waste the cities whose harbours were visited by such vessels?”
“Is this the course you would have taken?”
“Of course,” he spoke firmly. “And Subutai or Jebei would have been in charge of the troops.”
“Could you be sure of victory?”
“With field marshals like them, the foe would have crumbled, especially if we attacked during the winter!”
“But how about the cost of lives?” asked Archie.
“Irrelevant and unavoidable. The Czar should have honoured the blockade from the very day it was imposed. I should have regarded his failure to observe it as an affront.”
Genghis was equally dismissive of Hannibal’s campaign. He thought that Hannibal should have attacked Rome directly after the crossing of the Alps. He concluded that Hannibal’s troopers were not as valiant as Mongol warriors. He then pointed out the futility of an on-march like Alexander’s – an anabasis without a clear objective or plan.
“But did you, respected Khakan, always have an objective?” asked Archie.
“I did, rather. In some cases I sought revenge; in others I wanted to expand my territories; and in others still I simply wished to subjugate a foe. War for the sake of winning battles is pointless.”
For the sake of clarity, I told him about von Manstein’s blitzkrieg and the conquest of France.
“Sounds like a battle conducted by myself or by my field marshals,” Genghis spoke warmly. “Outflanking the enemy and advancing from an unexpected angle is good planning. By the time the opposing troops seek to regroup, they are left far behind.”
“But when the Nazi troops took the course prescribed by von Manstein, they violated the neutrality of a neighbouring state,” Archie and I exclaimed.
“What is ‘neutrality’?”
“Declaring that you support neither of the sides in conflict,” I explained.
“Nonsense,” Genghis spoke fiercely. “In war you are either with me or against me. If you are with me, I protect you. If you are against me, I fight you! There is no midway.”
“Our philosophers saw things differently,” countered Archie.
“Actually, so did many of ours, as well as international law experts,” I ventured.
Seeing that our host was not convinced, I told him they way Gandhi liberated the Indian sub-continent by means of passive resistance, such as hunger strikes. Genghis was not impressed.
“Such tactics would not have worked with me. I should have simply let him starve or would have withdrawn water and let him die of thirst,” advised Genghis.
“Modern European society would have proscribed this,” I told him.
“Not the men of the steppe. They were a different breed!”
3. Ghenghis’ Civilisation
Genghis’ standing as tactician and warlord were beyond doubt. Still, I knew that during periods of peace he encouraged men of religion and of knowledge to visit him, treated them kindly and often listened to them. Was such tolerance inconsistent with his cruelty and unbending behaviour in war?
“Surely, the two go together. When I took the war path, I was a fighter. I wanted to win. When I was at peace, I had an open mind. I wanted to acquire knowledge and not only on matters concerning warfare. You ought to know that I did much to enlighten my people. For instance, I developed a Mongolian writing script.”
“I read that Christian monks, Muslim preachers, Buddhist thinkers and Taoist philosophers were welcome in Karakorum. How did you converse with them?”
“My own language was Mongolian. I had a basic knowledge of Chinese but frequently we used translators. Some Chinese scholars were multilingual.”
“Actually, what was your own religion, Khakan?” asked Archie.
“We worshipped the Gods of Heaven. We called the Gods Tengri and the superior deity in heaven was the Tenger. The deities could be contacted mainly by shamans (a sort of priests). These also served as medical advisers. In a sense, they were linked to our clan’s structure.”
“Did foreign religions attract you?” I wanted to know.
“I listened to all preaching,” he told me, “but I kept my own faith. For me it was the best.”
“How about Buddhism?” I asked.
“It was a way of life: not Mongol. Taoism was closer to my way of thinking,” he conceded.
“What did you think of Christianity, Oh Khakan?”
“Strange religion: their God came down to earth only to be flogged and killed. Not suitable for my people; and Jews came to my court but would not partake of food I offered them. This was an insult; I had them executed.”
For a while we sat in silence. I was getting ready to leave. Then, unexpectedly, Genghis raised a question:
“You say you lived many years after my time. Did your thinkers find the means to become immortal?”
“They did not. We know for sure that every human being grows old and dies.”
“I sought immortality. However, the Chinese sage I consulted said he could extend my life by prescribing some herbs but that death was inevitable. So, he was right,” Genghis confided in a dejected tone.
“Did you punish him?” asked Archie.
“Of course not. He told me the truth. I listened.”
“In a way you attained immortality, Khakan,” I told him. “Your name and attainments are recorded and so you are remembered. I read several books about you; they all recognise your genius as Commander in Chief and great ruler. And your people elevated you to a Tengri.”
“Did my empire last?”
It seemed best to provide an outline of the Mongol Empire. Genghis was not surprised to hear that it declined and that, some three hundred years after his death, fell. He sneered when told that his grandson, Kublai, was a hybrid of a Mongol Conqueror and a Chinese Emperor.
“I see: my successors became soft,” he said disdainfully. “Did Kublai’s dynasty hold China for long?”
“Not really. They were ousted by the local Mings,” I told him truthfully, adding that the Khan of the Golden Horde was defeated and driven out of Russia by Ivan the Terrible.
“What are we remembered for?”
“For your achievements in the field. Also, the administrative systems you used to govern the empire.”
“In this aspect I was guided by Yelü Chucai’s counsel. He convinced me that it was advantageous to tax defeated foes rather than slaughter populations. He was a philosopher; and he had the good of the empire at heart. He was a fine and loyal man. I elevated him although I had defeated the ruler he had served. I was pleased when his words showed that he respected that regime although a generation earlier it had defeated his father’s fief.”
“Another feather in your cap is the communications network, which was of major guidance for future rulers. But your people did not leave a cultural or religious legacy. They emerged from the steppe and returned to it.”
Even as I spoke it dawned on me that all empires had a cycle: they were born, then established themselves and thereafter declined and fell. Some, like the Roman and Habsburg Empires left a cultural heritage. The Mongols legacy was in their having encouraged globalisation and trade. They made the East fully aware of the West and vice versa. Like a midwife, they became redundant when the process they enhanced came to fruition. Genghis’ heirs extended the Empire’s borders. In the end, though, they became polarised and the Black Death hastened their downfall.
Before we departed I saluted Genghis. Archie bowed to him. It was an unexpected gesture and I let my surprise show.
“The Khakan is a greater soldier than any Greek warrior. I kowtow to him,” explained Archie.
“Will you, Khakan, permit me to raise just one more question?” Seeing him nod, I continued: “When you defeated the Shah’s son – Jalal ad-Din – you could have easily marched on India. Some historians claim you were deterred because your soldiers could not stand a hot climate; but I have never accepted their view. Please enlighten me.”
“The answer is simple: the rulers of India did not give me a motive. I found the wealth of their country of little interest. I simply had no reason to wage war on them.”
“I understand and salute you again. Besides being the greatest warrior in history you were also a wise and, in your own way, righteous man.”
“Is your assessment accepted by most scholars?”
“Actually, it isn’t. Many emphasise the brutality and cruelty of the Mongolian reign. At this stage, my view is a minority opinion. In the long run, though, I believe it will prevail.”
“I wonder,” he summed up.