Manz B.F. - Nomads in The Middle East - 2022
Manz B.F. - Nomads in The Middle East - 2022
A history of pastoral nomads in the Islamic Middle East, from the rise of
Islam, through the middle periods when Mongols and Turks ruled most
of the region to the decline of nomadism in the twentieth century.
Offering a vivid insight into the impact of nomads on the politics, culture
and ideology of the region, Beatrice Forbes Manz examines and chal-
lenges existing perceptions of these nomads, including the popular
cyclical model of nomad-settled interaction developed by Ibn
Khaldun. Looking at both the Arab Bedouin and the nomads from the
Eurasian steppe, Manz demonstrates the significance of Bedouin and
Turco-Mongolian contributions to cultural production and political
ideology in the Middle East, and shows the central role played by
pastoral nomads in war, trade and state-building throughout history.
Nomads provided horses and soldiers for war, the livestock and guid-
ance which made long-distance trade possible, and animal products to
provision the region’s growing cities.
www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521816298
DOI: 10.1017/9781139028813
© Beatrice Forbes Manz 2021
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permission of Cambridge University Press.
First published 2021
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A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library.
Names: Manz, Beatrice Forbes, author.
Title: Nomads in the Middle East / Beatrice Forbes Manz.
Description: Cambridge ; New York. NY : Cambridge University Press, 2021. |
Series: Themes in Islamic history | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021025028 (print) | LCCN 2021025029 (ebook) | ISBN
9780521816298 (hardback) | ISBN 9780521531634 (paperback) | ISBN
9781139028813 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Nomads – Islamic Empire – History. | Pastoral systems – Islamic
Empire – History. | Nomads – Sedentarization – Islamic Empire – History. | Tribes –
Islamic Empire – History. | Islamic Empire – Ethnic relations. | Islamic Empire –
Civilization. | Islamic Empire – History. | BISAC: HISTORY / Middle East /
General
Classification: LCC DS58 .M28 2021 (print) | LCC DS58 (ebook) | DDC
305.9/06918056–dc23
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ISBN 978-0-521-81629-8 Hardback
ISBN 978-0-521-53163-4 Paperback
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accurate or appropriate.
Bibliography 242
Index 268
vii
Figures
0.1 Nomadic Encampment, probably a folio from a
manuscript of Layla va Majnun by Jami, Harvard Art
Museums/Arthur M. Sackler Museum, Gift of John
Goelet, formerly in the collection of Louis J. Cartier, Photo
@ President and Fellows of Harvard College, 1958.75. page vi
1.1 Bedouin black tent, er-Riha, Jordan, 1898. On the
way to Jericho (Er-Riha), Jordan, etc. Bedouin tent
American Colony, Jerusalem. 1898. (Photo by: Sepia
Times/Universal Images Group via Getty Images) 6
1.2 Nomad encampment with yurts, from the Diwan of
Sultan Ahmad Jalayir, ca. 1400. Ink, color and gold on
paper. Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution,
Washington, DC: Purchase – Charles Lang Freer
Endowment, F1932.34, verso. 8
1.3 Setting up a Kazakh yurt, Altai Mountains, China, 1987.
Courtesy of Thomas Barfield, Boston University. 9
5.1 Mongolian Archer on Horseback. Iran. Miniature by
Muhammad ibn Mahmudshah al-Khayyam,
ca.1420–1425. Brush and ink on paper. Staatsbibliotek zu
Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Orientalabteilung,
Saray-Albums (Diez-Albums), fol. 72, p. 13. 116
Maps
0.1 The Middle East and Central Asia xii–xiii
0.2 Central Regions of the Middle East xiv
0.3 Land Use in the Middle East xv
0.4 Nomad Pastureland xvi–xvii
viii
ix
I first came in contact with him when he wrote me a very kind letter as
a reader for my first book, and from that time on I profited continually
from his help and guidance. I am also grateful to him for encouraging me
to widen my field by inviting me to write the chapter on the Mongols for
the New Cambridge History of Islam.
1–11 When, upon the hill of heaven and earth, An spawned the Anuna gods, since
he neither spawned nor created Grain with them, and since in the Land he neither
fashioned the yarn of Uttu (the goddess of weaving) nor pegged out the loom for
Uttu – with no Sheep appearing, there were no numerous lambs, and with no
goats, there were no numerous kids, the sheep did not give birth to her twin lambs,
and the goat did not give birth to her triplet kids; the Anuna, the great gods, did
not even know the names Ezina-Kusu (Grain) or Sheep. . . . .
26–36 At that time, at the place of the gods’ formation, in their own home, on the
Holy Mound, they created Sheep and Grain. . . . For their own well-being in the
holy sheepfold, they gave them to mankind as sustenance.
43–53 Sheep being fenced in by her sheepfold, they gave her grass and herbs
generously. For Grain they made her field and gave her the plough, yoke and
team. Sheep standing in her sheepfold was a shepherd of the sheepfolds brimming
with charm. Grain standing in her furrow was a beautiful girl radiating charm;
lifting her raised head up from the field she was suffused with the bounty of
heaven. Sheep and Grain had a radiant appearance.
54–64 They brought wealth to the assembly. They brought sustenance to the
Land. They fulfilled the ordinances of the gods. They filled the store-rooms of the
Land with stock. The barns of the Land were heavy with them. When they entered
the homes of the poor who crouch in the dust they brought wealth. Both of them,
wherever they directed their steps, added to the riches of the household with their
weight. Where they stood, they were satisfying; where they settled, they were
seemly. They gladdened the heart of An and the heart of Enlil.
65–70 They drank sweet wine, they enjoyed sweet beer. When they had drunk
sweet wine and enjoyed sweet beer, they started a quarrel concerning the arable
fields, they began a debate in the dining hall.
71–82 Grain called out to Sheep: “Sister, I am your better; I take precedence over
you. I am the glory of the lights of the Land . . . .
83–91 “I foster neighbourliness and friendliness. I sort out quarrels started
between neighbours. When I come upon a captive youth and give him his destiny,
he forgets his despondent heart and I release his fetters and shackles. I am Ezina-
Kusu (Grain); I am Enlil’s daughter. In sheep shacks and milking pens scattered
on the high plain, what can you put against me? Answer me what you can reply!”
92–101 Thereupon Sheep answered Grain: “My sister, whatever are you saying?
An, king of the gods, made me descend from the holy place, my most precious
place. All the yarns of Uttu, the splendour of kingship, belong to me . . . .
102–106 “The watch over the elite troops is mine. Sustenance of the workers in
the field is mine: the waterskin of cool water and the sandals are mine. . . .
107–115 “In the gown, my cloth of white wool, the king rejoices on his throne. My
body glistens on the flesh of the great gods. After the purification priests, the
incantation priests and the bathed priests have dressed themselves in me for my
holy lustration, I walk with them to my holy meal. But your harrow, ploughshare,
binding and strap are tools that can be utterly destroyed. What can you put against
me? Answer me what you can reply!”
116–122 Again Grain addressed Sheep: “When the beer dough has been carefully
prepared in the oven, and the mash tended in the oven, Ninkasi (the goddess of beer)
mixes them for me while your big billy-goats and rams are despatched for my
banquets. . . .
123–129 “Your shepherd on the high plain eyes my produce enviously; when I am
standing in the furrow in the field, my farmer chases away your herdsman with his
cudgel. Even when they look out for you, from the open country to the hidden
places, your fears are not removed from you: fanged (?) snakes and bandits, the
creatures of the desert, want your life on the high plain. . . . .
143–155 Again Sheep answered Grain: . . . .
156–168 “When you fill the trough the baker’s assistant mixes you and throws you
on the floor, and the baker’s girl flattens you out broadly. You are put into the
oven and you are taken out of the oven. When you are put on the table I am before
you – you are behind me. Grain, heed yourself! You too, just like me, are meant to
be eaten. At the inspection of your essence, why should it be I who come second?
169–179 Then Grain was hurt in her pride, and hastened for the verdict . . . .
180–191 Then Enki spoke to Enlil: “Father Enlil, Sheep and Grain should be
sisters! They should stand together! . . . But of the two, Grain shall be the greater.
192–193 Dispute spoken between Sheep and Grain: Sheep is left behind and
Grain comes forward – praise be to father Enki!1
1
The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature, Faculty of Oriental Studies, Oxford
University, Oxford, 1998. http://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/section5/tr532.htm
For almost all people, a comfortable lifestyle requires both animal and
vegetable products. While livestock and agriculture are easily combined
in subsistence farming, a complex society encourages specialization. In
arid and mountainous regions, concentration on livestock breeding led to
the development of a separate lifestyle – pastoral nomadism – which has
had an enormous impact on the history of the world. The owners of large
herds can utilize lands too dry or too high to yield reliable crops by moving
from one pasture to another, usually in regular migrations between
known seasonal pastures. Thus they live in tents which can be moved,
and their other possessions must also be easily portable. Pastoral nomad-
ism presents a number of paradoxes. Although it is in some ways
a limiting lifestyle, which discourages the development of a high civiliza-
tion and centers its people outside the major cultural centers, it is
a specialized economy which developed out of agriculture and involves
exchange with sedentary populations. For thousands of years nomads1
and settled agriculturalists have defined themselves against each other,
each expressing distrust and disdain for the other lifestyle. Nonetheless
both have continued to coexist, to trade, and to influence each other.
Although theoretically nomads could live largely from their herds, in
practice many have also practiced some agriculture and have further
depended on agricultural populations for many of their needs, from grain
and vegetables to metal and ceramic wares. Settled societies are less fully
dependent on pastoral goods, but over history nomads have offered much
more to the settled than the animal products in which they specialize. Their
lifestyle gave nomads several skills of great importance – and of use to their
settled neighbors. The most famous nomad skill was that of war. The need to
migrate required organization and survival skills which translated easily into
military action, and the protection of livestock and pasture rights required the
ability – and willingness – to use arms. As large sedentary states formed and
1
Throughout this book I use the term nomad to refer to pastoral nomads only.
Nomadic Lifestyles
For this book I have adopted a broad definition of pastoral nomads, to
include all populations living primarily from livestock breeding and prac-
ticing regular migration. Many populations practiced a mixed economy,
sometimes living in houses or huts for part of the year and using tents only
for the summer months; many also planted crops and harvested them when
returning along their migration routes. Sometimes such populations are
characterized as semi-nomadic. It was also not uncommon for populations
to move back and forth between settled and nomad economies, as weather
conditions or political unrest made a change desirable. However, I have not
usually tried to distinguish among different levels of nomadism for a simple
reason: the paucity of historical evidence. The sources available to us for
most periods covered in this book give us almost no information on the
lifestyle or economic strategy of individual groups, and therefore do not
allow us to differentiate among populations according to the length of the
migration, winter habitation, or degree of dependence on agriculture.
While mobility and economic specialization create similarities among all
pastoral nomads, very significant variations do exist.2 Two groups have been
most visible in the history of the Middle East: the Arabian and Syrian
nomads in the southwestern regions, and nomads from the Eurasian steppe
in the northern and eastern provinces. The Arab nomads exploit the desert
and semi-desert areas of Arabia, Mesopotamia and Syria to raise sheep,
goats, horses and most famously camels. In this region the scarce resource is
water, and wells are a central necessity. Summer is the season in which
groups congregate most closely around water sources, while in winter after
the rains they disperse to make full use of seasonal pastures. Most migration
takes place between areas where water is available in summer, and those that
can be used only during cooler periods of greater precipitation, often at the
same level. For this reason, this type of nomadism is often called horizontal
nomadism. The tent used by the nomads of Syria and Arabia is usually made
of woven goat hair, which allows the circulation of air in dry weather, but
swells when wet and becomes a protection against rain (Fig. 1.1).
Because the needs of camels are significantly different from those of
sheep and goats, most nomad groups have specialized in one or the other.
Groups raising smaller livestock must remain fairly close to the edge of the
desert, where sufficient pasture and above all water can be found through-
out the year. Camel nomads (a‘rā b or badū ) – known in European lan-
guages as Bedouin – can retreat more deeply into the desert and travel
2
See A. M. Khazanov, Nomads and the Outside World, 2nd ed. (Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 1994); Thomas J. Barfield, The Nomadic Alternative (Englewood Cliffs,
NJ: Prentice Hall, 1993).
Figure 1.1 Bedouin black tent, er-Riha, Jordan, 1898. On the way to
Jericho (Er-Riha), Jordan, etc. Bedouin tent American Colony,
Jerusalem. 1898. (Photo by: Sepia Times/Universal Images Group via
Getty Images)
and the pasture benefits from the mix. Herds can thus be pastured in the
same areas and be raised by the same group. While for desert nomads the
summer is the time of greatest population concentration, for the steppe
and mountain nomads the winter pasture is the more intensive, usually
requiring a river valley with water and dried forage. Pasture is less
dependent on the vagaries of weather and while migrations may be
short or long, a given tribe will migrate spring, summer, fall and winter
to the same places. Within Iran and Anatolia, tribes usually migrate
vertically, with a winter pasture in a river valley and summer pasture in
the mountain highlands which, unlike the lowlands, remain green
through the summer. In general, nomads remain relatively stationary in
winter and summer and move more frequently and for longer distances in
the fall and spring migrations. This is known as vertical nomadism. In the
past, the steppe nomads used tents made of heavy felt attached to a circle
formed by wooden lattice work, with a hole for smoke in the center. These
were heavier but also far warmer than the goat hair tents of the south-
western nomads (Figs 1.2 and 1.3). Within the Middle East, many Turkic
nomads, especially in the warmer regions, have adopted the black goat
hair tent.
Among both Arab and Turco-Mongolian nomads, daily tasks are
apportioned by gender and women play a major role in production,
enjoying a higher position than most settled women. Women set up and
take down the tents, and the black goat-hair tents used now by most
nomads in the Middle East were until recently woven by them. Herding is
usually done by men, but in times of need women can also do this. Among
camel nomads milking is done by the men; sheep and goats are usually
milked by women, who also process milk products for consumption and
sale. Among the Bedouin it is common for extended families to share one
tent, which can be separated into public spaces for men and private ones
for women, and women are sometimes veiled. Nonetheless they are not
segregated and have considerable freedom of movement. Among the
nomads of Iranian and Turco-Mongolian descent, the nuclear family is
more common, while women are rarely veiled and enjoy both authority
and freedom.
Figure 1.2 Nomad encampment with yurts, from the Diwan of Sultan
Ahmad Jalayir, ca. 1400. Ink, color and gold on paper. Freer Gallery of
Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC: Purchase – Charles
Lang Freer Endowment, F1932.34, verso.
4
The literature on tribes is too vast to survey here. For a review of the controversies
concerning the definition and discussion of tribes, see for instance, Richard Tapper,
Frontier Nomads of Iran: A Political and Social History of the Shahsevan (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1997), pp. 5–24; Jeffrey Szuchman, “Integrating
Approaches to Nomads, Tribes, and the State in the Ancient Near East,” in Nomads,
Tribes, and the State in the Ancient Near East: Cross-Disciplinary Perspectives, ed., Jeffrey
Szuchman, Oriental Institute Seminars # 5 (Chicago, IL: Oriental Institute of Chicago,
2009), pp. 4–5.
5
David Sneath, The Headless State: Aristocratic Orders, Kinship Society, and
Misrepresentations of Nomadic Inner Asia (New York: Columbia University Press,
2007).
any one of his male relatives could be killed in retaliation. Since a violent
crime put the entire group in danger, there was strong social pressure
against it and though raiding was frequent, most raids did not result in
casualties. The tribal values and the achievements of individual tribes were
celebrated in poetry and tales about tribal exploits. The importance of tribe
was not limited to the pastoralists but seems to have applied to almost all
segments of the Arabian population, at least those within the peninsula,
where town life was also organized along tribal lines.
Despite the importance of the tribe in the life of its members, among Syrian
and Arabian tribes authoritative leadership has not been the ideal. Tribal
chiefs have been traditionally chosen by reputation, and even when leader-
ship has remained within one or two families, they have been considered the
first among equals, ruling by consensus. Even in the past, when tribes
controlled significant territory, the exercise of power depended heavily on
the personality of the tribal leader – the shaykh – and his ability to command
respect through hospitality, skill in war and talent in mediating disputes. It
also depended on success. A larger tribe, or confederation, consisted of many
smaller sections, which could develop and change according to circum-
stances. Leadership at this level was in part theoretical, and it was rare that
one man or one tribe would control all the sections identified with a major
confederation.
The tribes of steppe origin, who became the primary nomad population
of Anatolia, Iran and Afghanistan, have had different structures from
those of the Arabs. Leadership was usually stronger and was held for
generations within one family. In practice, the mobility of pastoralist life
gives the ordinary nomads the possibility of defection to other tribes, so
that leadership must always depend to some extent on persuasion and
consensus. Nonetheless, the power of the chiefs has given them sufficient
authority to create larger confederations which have at times controlled
significant territory and formed regional states. Unlike many confeder-
ations of Arab tribes, these groups had clear leaders within a recognized
lineage. While the political role of the tribe was greater among the steppe
nomads than among the Arabs, its social and legal influence was less
pronounced. Though the practice of vengeance is attested, it held a less
central role. The etiquette and cult of honor that has been associated with
Arab tribalism was less characteristic of Turco-Mongolian nomads.
One reason for the difference in tribal culture was the connection of the
Turco-Mongolian tribes to the imperial tradition of the European steppe.
The mounted nomads of the steppe began early on to create states
exercising at least loose control over large territories, and able to exert
influence on the settled civilizations on their borders, from China, to the
Middle East, to the northern Black Sea. From about 200 BC, the
Nomad-Sedentary Relations
The habitat and the lifestyle of pastoralists distance them from urban and
agricultural populations but the three groups remain interdependent.
Although nomads spend part of the year in terrain useable only for
pasture, at certain seasons many graze their flocks on harvested fields
and in return they provide useful fertilizer and sometimes also payment.
During migration, pastoralists must frequently pass through agricultural
regions and, particularly in times of scarcity, their passage often causes
conflict. Villagers suffer from flocks that find their way into growing fields;
both villagers and nomads suffer from the theft of livestock. Most nomads
depend on trade for income and consumer goods. While they have several
products to offer – livestock, meat, clarified butter, wool and skins – their
need to move and their lack of familiarity with city life often put them at
a disadvantage with city merchants. The result can be a resort to credit,
sometimes at exorbitant rates. In past times, the balance of power was
different. The nomads’ skill in warfare allowed them to achieve equality
and often dominance over agricultural regions and brought them grudg-
ing respect. Their ability to mount raids on villages and to retreat rapidly
into the desert or steppe gave them a powerful tool. Nomadic tribes often
held responsibility for caravan routes, collecting dues from traders and
taxes from villagers in return for protection. This also made them useful
to the rulers of sedentary states; nomads frequently controlled border
regions, serving as a buffer between different states, and soldiers were
perhaps the most sought-after product of nomad society.
However involved they were with the settled population, nomads
remained by definition separate and, in the view of settled societies, to
some extent barbarian. The dynamic of interaction between the tribally
organized nomads and the settled village or state set up a tension felt by
both sides and mirrored in their mythologies. We find on each side a sense
of competition and threat from the other. One of the best-known stories
dealing with the relationship between peasants and pastoralists is that of
Adam and Eve’s sons Cain and Abel.
1 And Adam knew Eve his wife; and she conceived, and bare Cain, and said, I have gotten
a man from the LORD.
2 And she again bare his brother Abel. And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller
of the ground.
3 And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an
offering unto the LORD.
4 And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the
LORD had respect unto Abel and to his offering
5 but unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his
countenance fell.
6 And the LORD said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen?
7 If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the
door: and unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.
8 And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field,
that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.6
God favored the offering of livestock over that of grain, and when
murder was done, it was the farmer who killed the shepherd; there is
thus a suggestion of the vulnerability of pastoralists, and of God’s favor
towards them.7
In Mesopotamian mythology the relationship between pastoralist and
farmer is also addressed, though with a different judgment. The Sumerian
“Debate between Sheep and Grain,” quoted at the beginning of this book,
expresses an ideal of coexistence, together with openly expressed rivalry. At
the beginning of the world, people were naked and ate grass. Then the gods
created sheep and grain, and sent them down to earth, where they created
wealth and sustenance for the population. However, when success – and
sweet beer – went to their heads, they began to quarrel about precedence,
each touting her own excellence and hinting at the vulnerability of the
other. Finally, Grain appealed to the gods for a judgment:
169–179 Then Grain was hurt in her pride, and hastened for the verdict . . . .
180–191 Then Enki spoke to Enlil: “Father Enlil, Sheep and Grain should be
sisters! They should stand together! . . . But of the two, Grain shall be the greater.
192–193 Dispute spoken between Sheep and Grain: Sheep is left behind and
Grain comes forward – praise be to father Enki!8
6
King James Bible, Gen. 4:1–8.
7
It is interesting to note that Dumuzi, the shepherd god of Mesopotamia, was also killed; in
some accounts the sheepfold was also destroyed. Gwendolyn Leick, A Dictionary of Ancient
Near Eastern Mythology (London; New York: Routledge, 1991), pp. 31–34;
Thorkild Jacobsen, The Treasures of Darkness: A History of Mesopotamian Religion (New
Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1976), pp. 47–55.)
8
J. A. Black, G. Cunningham, G. Fluckiger-Hawker, E. Robson and G. Zólyomi, The
Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature, Oxford 1998–https://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/
Challenges to Understanding
Before we can discuss the history of nomads, we must face the issue of our
distance from their lifestyle and the limitations of our source material. All
historians of the pre-modern Middle East face problems, but the difficul-
ties attached to the history of nomads are particularly great. We are more
distant in lifestyle and experience from the society we are studying, and
we have even fewer sources. Most historians studying the ancient and
medieval periods have turned to ethnographic studies of nomad societies
to fill in gaps left in the record. We can use such studies to bring us closer
to the level of understanding we would start from in studying a settled
society, but they must be used with caution. Modern nomad societies
have traits in common and they may have changed less over the last
several millennia than settled societies, but they do differ from each
other, and they have changed. I have discussed above some of the most
salient differences among nomad populations, and within the major
groups I have mentioned, there are significant variations from one
group to another. The problem of change is a more difficult one since
we have detailed descriptions of nomads largely from the last 150 years,
and scholarly ethnographic studies only from the last eighty.
One important difference between the recorded ethnography and the
more distant past lies in the loss of military and regional power.9 Through
most of history nomads were a crucial element in many armies and often
controlled the areas surrounding their pastures. These activities must
have influenced their economy, their migration patterns, their social
organization, and their leadership. Pastoralism has always been associ-
ated with marginally productive lands, and thus often with peripheral
status, and it has been technologically limiting as well. However, when
nomads held significant military power their position in relation to the
settled was of course a much stronger one; they could choose their
pastures, threaten neighboring towns and offer protection in return for
payment both from towns and from caravans. When they incurred losses
of livestock, they were quite certain of finding ways to replenish their
herds at the expense of others, and their role in trade and regional
government offered them sources of income beyond the sale of livestock
products.
9
Jean-Pierre Digard, “À propos des aspects économiques de la symbiose nomades-
sédentaires dans la Mésopotamie ancienne,” in Nomads and Sedentary Peoples. XXX
International Congress of Human Sciences in Asia and North Africa, ed. Jorge Silva Castillo
(Mexico City: Colegio de México, 1981), pp. 14, 20–22; Michael B. Rowton, “Economic
and Political Factors in Ancient Nomadism,” in Nomads and Sedentary Peoples XXX
International Congress of Human Sciences in Asia and North Africa, ed. Jorge Silva Castillo
(Mexico City: Colegio de México, 1981), pp. 26–27.
There are also more subtle differences from the past attached to
changes in society at large. In earlier times the technological gap between
nomad and settled was a much smaller one. Neither world was mechan-
ized, and while settled societies predominated in most technological
development, in the crucial field of military technology advances often
sprang from interactions between settled and nomad peoples. In another
sphere, that of health, the situation has largely reversed itself. In the pre-
modern world, no population had access to effective medical care and the
populations of cities and villages, living closely together, were more often
prey to periodic epidemics, in addition to the constant pressure brought
by problems of diet and sanitation. Nomads lived in smaller groups and
their diet, if not varied, at least contained sufficient protein. In the
contemporary world, people living in more central locations have a clear
advantage over those in the marginal lands, for whom hospitals and clinics
are hard to reach.
When we apply modern studies to earlier conditions, therefore, we
must assume very basic differences in the balance of power and of privil-
ege. The nomad lifestyle is still attractive to many of its adherents and in
some places still retains prestige, at least within the populations who
practice it. Nonetheless, nomadism in the contemporary world plays
a far narrower role in economy and politics and presents few avenues to
advancement. The nomadic societies studied by modern ethnographers
have a more limited economic base and a lower place in the larger society
than those of the past.
When we try to trace the history of nomads our problems start before
the beginning of written history; the archaeological record for nomads is
less rich than that of settled peoples, and harder to interpret. It is almost
impossible to tell whether a site showing temporary residence belonged to
nomads or to settled people leaving their village for a summer pasture.10
In the historical period, information on nomads comes almost exclusively
from the writings of their sedentary neighbors and usually represents an
unfriendly viewpoint. The historical texts available to us which describe
nomads and their relation to settled societies thus present significant
problems of interpretation. Above all, coming from a different society,
they present a simplified view of nomad populations, focusing on the
strangeness of nomad societies and their distance from high culture, as
10
Karim Sadr, The Development of Nomadism in Ancient Northeast Africa (Philadelphia, PA:
University of Philadelphia Press, 1991), pp. 13–22; Richard H. Meadow, “Inconclusive
Remarks on Pastoralism, Nomadism, and Other Animal-Related Matters,” in Pastoralism
in the Levant, ed. Ofer Bar-Yosef and A. M. Khazanov (Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 1992), p. 262; C. C. Lamberg-Karlovsky, Archaeological Thought in
America (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989), p. 285.
11
Pierre Briant, État et pasteurs au Moyen-Orient ancien, Collection Production pastorale et
société (Cambridge; New York; Paris: Cambridge University Press; Maison des sciences
de l’homme, 1982), pp. 13–40; François Hartog, Le miroir d’Hérodote: essai sur la
représentation de l’autre, Bibliothèque des histoires (Paris: Gallimard, 1980), pp. 23–30;
Brent D. Shaw, “‘Eaters of Flesh, Drinkers of Milk’: The Ancient Mediterranean
Ideology of the Pastoral Nomad,” in Rulers, Nomads and Christians in Roman North
Africa, ed. Brent D. Shaw (Aldershot, Hampshire, Great Britain; Brookfield, VT:
Variorum, 1995), pp. 25–31.
12
The exception is the Ottoman Empire, for which archives exist from the seventeenth
century onwards.
13
‘Abd al-Rahman Ibn Khaldun, The Muqaddimah: An Introduction to History, trans. Franz
Rosenthal, abridged ed., Bollingen series (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press,
1967), pp. 93–114.
14
Amélie Kuhrt, The Ancient Near East: c. 3000–330 BC, 2 vols., Routledge History of the
Ancient World (London; New York: Routledge, 1995), p. 55.
15
J. J. Finkelstein, “The Genealogy of the Hammurapi Dynasty,” Journal of Cuneiform
Studies 20 (1966): pp. 98–102, 116–118; Piotr Michalowski, “History as Charter: Some
Observations on the Sumerian King List,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 103
(1983): pp. 240–243.
16
Marc Van De Mieroop, A History of the Ancient Near East (Oxford: Blackwell, 2003), pp.
16–17; Glenn M. Schwarz, “Pastoral Nomadism in Ancient Western Asia,” in
Civilizations of the Ancient Near East, ed. Jack M. Sasson (New York: Simon Schuster
Macmillan, 1995), p. 255.
17
I. M. Diakonoff, “Media,” in Cambridge History of Iran, ed. Ilya Gerschevitch
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), p. 40; Walter Sommerfeld, “The
Kassites of Ancient Mesopotamia: Origins, Politics and Culture,” in Civilizations of the
Ancient Near East, ed. Jack M. Sasson (New York: Simon Schuster Macmillan, 1995),
pp. 925–926.
18
Stephanie Dalley, “Ancient Mesopotamian Military Organization,” in Civilizations of the
Ancient Near East, ed. Jack M. Sasson (New York: Simon and Schuster Macmillan,
1995), pp. 416–417; Diakonoff, “Media,” p. 47; Niels Peter Lemche, “The History of
Ancient Syria and Palestine: An Overview,” in The Civilizations of the Ancient Near East,
ed. J. M. Sasson (New York: Simon & Schuster Macmillan, 1995), p. 1201.
19
Florence Malbran-Labat, “Le nomadisme à l’époque néoassyrienne,” in Nomads and
Sedentary Peoples. XXX International Congress of Human Sciences in Asia and North Africa,
ed. Jorge Silva Castillo (Mexico City: Colegio de México, 1981), 68–71;
Dominique Charpin, “The History of Ancient Mesopotamia: An Overview,” in
Civilizations of the Ancient Near East, ed. Jack M. Sasson (New York: Simon Schuster
Macmillan, 1995), pp. 820–825.
20
Finkelstein, “The Genealogy of the Hammurapi Dynasty,” pp. 112–113.
21
Paul E. Zimansky, “The Kingdom of Urartu in Eastern Anatolia,” in Civilizations of the
Ancient Near East, ed. Jack M. Sasson (New York: Simon and Schuster Macmillan,
1995), p. 1137; Malbran-Labat, “Le nomadisme à l’époque néoassyrienne,” pp. 62–75.
southwest by the Syrian desert, passable only through the river valleys.
With the full use of the camel, travel and trade became possible here as
well.26 Camel nomadism gave a new level of power to the pastoral peoples
who pursued it.27
From this time on, the Syrian and Arabian deserts became important
centers for camel breeding. The widespread domestication of the camel
fostered the development of an overland trade route connecting the
Arabian Peninsula directly with the Euphrates through the oasis of
Tadmor, near the later city of Palmyra.28 Another route linked southern
Arabia with northern Syria and Palestine, supplementing the sea route
which connected eastern Africa with Egypt and Mesopotamia. Camel
nomads provided both the camels and the guidance needed for trade.
Throughout the eighth century BC nomads appear as part of the power
structure in the Syrian desert; we find them mentioned among local
powers sending tribute and sometimes as part of a coalition formed
against Assyrian domination. Several confederations appear to have
been ruled by women; the story of the famous Queen of Sheba in the
Old Testament reflects this.
By the beginning of the seventh century BC, land routes carried two
types of resin – frankincense and myrrh – from Southern Arabia to the
centers of civilization. This trade was lucrative, since both products were
important for ritual purposes and had become a valued commodity
throughout Mesopotamia and the eastern Mediterranean.29 At about
the same time, a large confederation of camel nomads known as the
Qedar developed and for about 300 years controlled the Syrian desert
between the oasis towns of Tadmor (Palmyra) and Dumat, on the south-
ern end of the Wadi Sirhan.30 The economy of the desert confederations
was dependent on camel raising, but also included oasis agriculture and
above all the caravan trade. It is at about this time that we first hear of
several major towns on the Arabian Peninsula, now connected to
Mesopotamia and Egypt.31
26
Van De Mieroop, A History of the Ancient Near East, p. 10.
27
Richard W. Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel (New York: Columbia University Press,
1990), pp. 45–58, 67–77; Jan Retsö, “The Domestication of the Camel and the
Establishment of the Frankincense Road from South Arabia,” Orientalia Suecana 40
(1991): pp. 199–206; Jan Retsö, The Arabs in Antiquity: Their History from the Assyrians
to the Umayyads (London; New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), pp. 122–123.
28
Retsö, The Arabs in Antiquity, p. 122.
29
Retsö “Domestication of the Camel,” pp. 187–199.
30
M. C. A. MacDonald, “North Arabia in the First Millennium BCE,” in Civilizations of the
Ancient Near East, ed. Jack M. Sasson (New York: Simon & Schuster Macmillan, 1995),
1359, 1366–1367; Retsö, The Arabs in Antiquity, pp. 131, 166–168, 179–184.
31
MacDonald, “North Arabia in the First Millennium BCE,” pp. 1362, 1366; Bulliet, The
Camel and the Wheel, p. 78.
Although the settled states had incorporated most areas used by pas-
toralists specializing in sheep and goats, camel breeders such as the Qedar
could move deeper into the desert using areas too distant from large
agricultural territories to allow domination by the major settled states.
Nonetheless these nomads required wells for the summer months; this
and their interest in controlling trade made the more powerful confeder-
ations center themselves in desert oases, while many others used summer
pastures on the borders of settled regions.32 Camel nomads therefore
remained vulnerable to the armies of the central empires, who could
often defeat them in battle and plunder their summer camps. What the
empires could not do was to control the desert themselves.
While the Assyrian Empire could dominate the Syrian desert, it faced
a threat from the mounted horse nomads of the Eurasian steppe, who
were a more effective military force than the camel nomads, both because
the horse is better suited to battle and because of their new archery
technology. The first of many nomad groups to enter the Middle East
from the steppe were the Cimmerians, belonging to the Iranian language
family; they established a center of power in what is now Georgia in the
early eighth century BC. When they attempted to invade Assyria they
were defeated, but the Assyrians recognized the military opportunity they
offered and almost immediately incorporated a regiment of Cimmerians
into their army.33 From this time on, the mounted steppe nomads
remained a force in the political balance of the Middle East.
During the seventh century a new group of Iranian nomads, the
Scythians, defeated the Cimmerians and became masters of northern
Iran. From about the sixth to the third century BC they formed a state
ruled by nomads who exerted political and economic power over northern
Iran and a large part of the western steppe, along with several Greek city
states on the Black Sea coast. Unlike most nomads the Scythians left a rich
archaeological record, particularly in spectacular royal graves where horses
were buried along with the ruler, accompanied by gold artifacts, some of
which picture Scythian life in naturalistic detail. They show a nomad
warrior culture of expert mobile archers living off their livestock and
drinking the milk of their mares. The finds of Scythian-style arrowheads
through much of the western Middle East and beyond suggest that the
Scythian military technology was copied well beyond the Scythian realm.34
32
Stefan Leder, “Towards a Historical Semantic of the Bedouin, Seventh to Fifteenth
Centuries: A Survey,” Der Islam 92, no. 1 (2015): pp. 92–96.
33
Diakonoff, “Media,” pp. 94–95.
34
“Media,” pp. 115–119; Melyukova, “The Scythians and Sarmatians”; Willem Vogelsang,
“Medes, Scythians and Persians: The Rise of Darius in a North-South Perspective,” Iranica
Antiqua 33 (1998): pp. 212–214.
The Greek historian Herodotus described their lifestyle and military prac-
tice, including the classic nomad tactic of defeating enemies by retreating
before them and luring them forward into terrain where they could be
attacked.35
While the most powerful tribes appear to have remained fully nomadic,
agriculture and trade played an important part in the Scythian economy.
Grain was grown within the Scythian domains from the beginning, and by
the fourth century it was a major export. A fortified settlement north of
the Black Sea known as Kamenskoe was begun in the late fifth century,
and it became a kind of capital city and a center for trade and production,
including metallurgy.36
35
Briant, État et pasteurs, pp. 201–202; Sulimirsky, “The Scyths,” pp. 161–199.
36
Melyukova, “The Scythians and Sarmatians,” pp. 101–109.
written sources, and we learn about them exclusively from outside histor-
ies. The Hsiung-nu ruler claimed to rule through heavenly mandate; the
dynasty collected taxes from its subjects and organized its army in decimal
units, with the largest troop unit at 10,000. Below the ruler, the realm was
administered through an appanage system with major posts divided
between right and left. Although the ruler was theoretically absolute, he
ruled through an aristocratic council. Rulers were also elected by the
aristocracy at a great gathering, during which the assembly transferred
its authority to the ruler.37
The decline of the Hsiung-nu was followed by several centuries of
decentralized rule in the eastern steppe. The next long-lasting empire in
Mongolia was the T’ü-ch’üeh or Türk Khaghanate, which arose in
Mongolia in 552 AD and for most of two centuries dominated the Silk
Road and much of the Eurasian steppe. This was the state which gave the
Turks their original identity; they were the ruling class of the state and
provided its official language. The T’ü-chüeh negotiated and fought with
the states of China, Byzantium and the Middle East; the empire’s
supreme ruler, known as khaghan, was recognized by both the Iranian
Sasanians (240–651 AD) and the early caliphate as one of the world’s
major powers. The khaghan and the Ashina clan to which he belonged
were considered to be distinguished by special, God-given good fortune,
which allowed the ruler to serve as intermediary between his subjects and
supernatural powers.38 Succession to the throne was usually lateral, with
rule passing first to brothers and then to sons. According to outside
sources, there was also a formal election ritual, as with the Hsiung-nu.39
The main belief system of the Turks was shamanism, and in addition they
worshiped a sky god known as Tengri.
Although the Hsiung-nu and the Türk Khaghanate fostered agricul-
ture, the Turkic elites were self-consciously nomadic and saw their dis-
tance from settled norms as part of their strength.40 This sentiment was
expressed in some of the inscriptions they have left behind written on
stones, first in the Iranian Soghdian language and later in Turkic. The
37
Peter B. Golden, An Introduction to the History of the Turkic Peoples: Ethnogenesis and
State-Formation in Medieval and Early Modern Eurasia and the Middle East,
Turcologica, Bd. 9 (Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz, 1992), pp. 57–59, 65; Di
Cosmo, Ancient China, pp. 175–185.
38
Golden, Introduction, pp. 146–147.
39
Denis Sinor, “The Establishment and Dissolution of the Türk Empire,” in Cambridge
History of Early Inner Asia, ed. Denis Sinor (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1990), p. 315.
40
Nicola Di Cosmo, “Ancient Inner Asian Nomads: Their Economic Basis and Its
Significance in Chinese History,” The Journal of Asian Studies 53, no. 4 (1994);
Sören Stark, Die Alttürkenzeit in Mittel- und Zentralasien: archäologische und historische
Studien (Wiesbaden: L. Reichert, 2008), pp. 289–291.
Conclusion
While pastoralism has long been recognized as a specialized economy
which functioned best in collaboration with agricultural societies, there
has been relatively little discussion of the other side of the equation: the
usefulness of pastoralists to agricultural states. As I have shown, the early
rulers of Mesopotamia expanded into mountainous regions and steppes
inhabited by herders despite the difficulties they met in controlling nomad
populations. We need not assume that states simply expanded out of
a natural urge; the peripheral populations also had something useful to
offer.
Pastoral populations were central to two major processes, the creation
of increasingly large regional states – eventually empires – and the
41
Talât Tekin, A Grammar of Orkhon Turkic (Bloomington: Indiana University Press,
1968), p. 262.
42
Peter Golden, “The Peoples of the South Russian Steppe,” in The Cambridge History of
Early Inner Asia, ed. Denis Sinor (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press,
1990), pp. 264–265.
28
the terrain and the lifestyles used to exploit it, then proceed to history,
from the last century before the rise of Islam to the fall of the Umayyad
dynasty in 750. Throughout the discussion I attempt to distinguish the
role that nomads played, the policies developed towards them, and the
impact of new political structures on the lives of pastoralists.
The close interaction between settled and nomad was due in part to the
seasonal organization of pastoralism. The towns of the Hijaz, the settled
lands on the west bank of the Euphrates, and the eastern flanks of the
coastal range in Syria were all a regular part of Bedouin life in the summer
months.4 The settled populations controlled resources in water and agri-
cultural produce that they could withhold from their nomadic neighbors,
and a strong power in the agricultural sphere could often dominate nearby
nomads. For their part, the Bedouin could use military force, particularly
in the form of raids on border villages. When the settled power was strong,
however, raids elicited punitive expeditions.5 It is important to recognize
that military skill was not limited to the Bedouin, and many sedentary
Arabs were also excellent fighters, notably the tribes of the mountainous
regions. In the Yemen and the Asir mountains, sedentary power
prevailed.6
The relative importance of nomad and settled populations varied but
almost all regions had a mix of the three lifestyles. The southeastern
section of the Arabian Peninsula – the Hadramawt and the Yemen – has
sufficient rainfall to maintain agricultural states, and nomads here were
a minority. The rest of the peninsula ranges from semi-desert to sand
deserts, usable only by camels, interspersed by oases which offer rich
farmland and significant water supplies over a small area. Three major
regions should be distinguished. The Hijaz, the birthplace of the Prophet,
contains numerous oases where settled populations predominated,
though camel and sheep nomads occupied deserts and hills. To the
northeast lies the Najd, stretching from the borders of the Hijaz to the
Persian Gulf and the lower Euphrates, where camel nomads were more
prominent. Finally, there is the Empty Quarter, the famous sand desert
which separates the fertile coastal region from the interior. Here the lack
of water limited the population to a few small tribes.
the Study of Early Islam, The Max Schloessinger memorial series. Monographs; 4
(Jerusalem: Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1989), pp. 5–11, 63, 99–101, 202–203.
4
Eva Orthmann, Stamm und Macht: die arabischen Stämme im 2. und 3. Jahrhundert der Hiğ ra
(Wiesbaden: Reichert, 2002), pp. 153–155; Gustav Rothstein, Die Dynastie der Laḫ miden
in al- Hı̄ ra; ein Versuch zur arabisch-persischen Geschichte zur Zeit der Sasaniden (Hildesheim:
˙
G. Olms, 1968), p. 121. See also Suzanne Pinckney Stetkevych, The Poetics of Islamic
Legitimacy: Myth, Gender, and Ceremony in the Classical Arabic Ode (Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 2002), p. 90.
5
For an example of the relationship of border towns and Bedouin, see Jibrail
Sulayman Jabbur, Suhayl Jibrail Jabbur, and Lawrence I. Conrad, The Bedouins and the
Desert: Aspects of Nomadic Life in the Arab East, SUNY series in Near Eastern studies
(Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995), pp. 1–8.
6
Ella Landau-Tesseron, “Review of F. McGraw Donner, The Early Islamic Conquests,
Princeton 1981,” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 6 (1985): pp. 499–500.
In the Syrian desert, settled populations along with sheep and goat
nomads predominated on the desert edges, and camel nomads in the
center. The eastern and western edges of the desert formed the frontier of
the great imperial states, which could usually control border regions and
punish nomads who attempted to impose their will. To achieve independ-
ence and above all to dominate the lucrative trade to Syria and Iraq,
a nomad confederation had to control the central oases which offered
summer grazing and water. It is worth listing the larger oases here, since
they were the key to power over trade routes and the center of successive
desert kingdoms. Al-Yamama is the largest oasis area in the Najd desert,
and the well-watered Bahrayn coast also provided agricultural goods and
summer pasture. Both regions were closely connected to southern Iraq.
Further west, a series of oases have defined the trade routes between the
Arabian Peninsula and the Syrian lands. Dedan, Tayma and Dumat al-
Jandal lead from the Hijaz and Najd to southern Syria, and from Dumat
a string of small oases, the Wadi Sirhan, leads to the Fertile Crescent.
Near the western edge of the desert a series of oases provided an alternate
route leading through Petra and Bostra to Damascus. In the north
Tadmur, site of the famous Arab city of Palmyra, was a key point in the
route between the upper Euphrates and the coast.
While the desert oases allowed nomads to achieve considerable power,
they could not be maintained or defended without year-round popula-
tion. Therefore, we find in them a mix of tribal populations – some
sedentary tribes, some who specialized in sheep and goats, and sections
of primarily Bedouin tribes. The most famous of the Arab desert powers,
the Nabataean kingdom centered at Petra, combined sedentary and
nomadic manpower to dominate trade along the western edge of the
desert from about 300 BC to 100 AD. The original founders of the
kingdom were nomads, who are thought to have become increasingly
sedentary over time as their oases became large and flourishing agricul-
tural centers. Nonetheless, the nomadic population remained an import-
ant element in the kingdom’s structure up to the end of its existence.7
Throughout these regions, the tribe was a central institution, defining
social and political life. Religion, law and identity all depended on tribal
affiliation. The importance of tribe was not limited to the pastoralists, but
also seems to have applied to almost all segments of the population within
the peninsula, where town life was also organized along tribal lines. Both
the tribal system and the pastoral economy were constantly changing;
they were self-replicating but not static. Both before and after the rise of
7
G. W. Bowersock, Roman Arabia (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1983),
pp. 13–24.
Islam, tribes and tribal sections moved towards the north from the
Yemen, through the Najd, into Syria, reacting to economic or political
pressures. These were often slow population movements, with people
moving group by group over long periods of time. Thus, over time in each
region power, pasture and water rights had to be renegotiated or won
through military might.
8
Bowersock, Roman Arabia, pp. 81–97.
9
C. E. Bosworth, “Iran and the Arabs before Islam,” in Cambridge History of Iran, ed.
Ehsan Yarshater (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), pp. 603–606; Robert
G. Hoyland, Arabia and the Arabs. From the Bronze Age to the Coming of Islam (London;
New York: Routledge, 2001), pp. 44–57.
Sasanians was the Najd, whose camel nomads controlled the approaches
to southern Mesopotamia.10
The three powers surrounding the Arab lands – the Himyarites,
Byzantines and Sasanians – used client Arab confederations to support
their goals rather than attempting to rule the desert directly. The Syrian
and Arabian deserts thus became involved in the rivalry of the surround-
ing states, and their inhabitants entered the Byzantine and Sassanian
armies. Client rulers received land and subsidies in return for controlling
neighboring tribes and providing troops against rival powers. The leaders
of the Kinda tribe in central Arabia served as governors for the Himyarite
kingdom. The Lakhmid dynasty, established on the Euphrates at the
beginning of the fourth century, served the Sasanians. Their capital at al-
Hira developed from an encampment into a permanent city and a center
for the developing literature in Arabic. From 502–503 on, the Byzantines
promoted another dynasty, the Ghassanids, bestowing official ranks as
well as subsidies. The major Ghassanid court was in Jabiya, on the edge of
the desert south of Damascus.
The client kings exerted power in the desert more through promise of
reward than threat of retaliation. There appears to have been a gradation
of power, first subjects, then allies, then tribes considered independent
and not expected to pay taxes. The settled tribesmen closest to the
Ghassanid and Lakhmid courts could be considered subjects, and the
nomads raising sheep and goats likewise. Distant tribes, particularly
camel nomads, were more difficult to incorporate. The Lakhmid and
Ghassanid kings, about whom we have the best information, attracted
the Bedouin elite in several ways. They offered court and military posi-
tions to tribesmen and handed out fiefs to some. A particularly advanta-
geous appointment was that of tax-collector to one’s own tribe –
a position which offered both income and position. Service also provided
opportunity for military activity on a larger scale than was available in
intertribal conflicts, and thus a path to wealth and prestige.11
The client kings had only modest standing armies and when they came
into conflict with inimical tribes, they were not certain of victory.
Nonetheless their influence was felt throughout the peninsula. Even in the
Hijaz, which was only loosely connected to this system, some lineages sought
advantage at the northern courts.12 The Lakhmids and Ghassanids reached
10
Hoyland, Arabia and the Arabs, pp. 27–28; Bosworth, “Iran and the Arabs before Islam,”
p. 603.
11
Fred McGraw Donner, The Early Islamic Conquests (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1981), pp. 45–48.
12
Donner, “The Bakr b. Wā ’il,” p. 27; Kister, “Mecca and the Tribes of Arabia,” pp. 42,
46; M. J. Kister, “Al- Hı̄ ra: Some Notes on Its Relations with Arabia,” Arabica 15 (1968).
their apogee in the sixth century, then collapsed quite suddenly at the turn of
the seventh. The Kinda rulers, clients of the Himyarites, succeeded twice in
taking over the Lakhmid court for several years.13 It is not entirely clear why
the system was abandoned, though the difficulty of controlling the client
kings may have been one reason. The Lakhmids and Ghassanids, fighting
each other on behalf of their patrons, became personal enemies and did not
always feel bound by treaties between the two empires.
The Lakhmids and Ghassanids undoubtedly contributed to the devel-
opment of stronger political traditions among the tribes and their impact in
the cultural sphere was even more important. Their courts are linked with
two types of early literature in Arabic, the odes (qası̄ da) and accounts of the
˙
tribal battles remembered as ayyā m al-‘arab, both of which remained
popular through the rise of Islam and formed the base for later historiog-
raphy and poetry. The ayā m and qası̄ da were connected to the tribe, whose
˙
glory they commemorated and extolled. Later commentators described the
tribal gatherings at which poetry was recited, often in the Arabian market
towns, and the yearly poetic contest which brought prestige to the tribe
whose poet performed the best.14 Many of the most famous poets are
known also to have sought fame at the courts of the client kings, and
some lived there permanently. Since much of the biographical material
recorded about pre-Islamic poets apparently originated later as commen-
tary on their verse, we do not know the details of their relations to the
Ghassanids and Lakhmids, but the number of poems addressed to these
monarchs attests to the importance of courtly patronage.15
Pre-Islamic literature expresses a tribal tradition closely connected to
the Bedouin, whose habits and ideology came to symbolize an ideal for
Arabians of all lifestyles.16 Theirs was an egalitarian ethos which empha-
sized military bravery, generosity, the pursuit of vengeance, and the
protection of guests and dependents. The honor of individual and tribe
required that no suppliant be turned away and that any guest, however
inconvenient, be fed and given protection. If one someone was killed, the
close relatives had to exact recompense or, preferably, vengeance, no
13
Irfan Shahid, “Lakhmids,” EI 2nd ed.; Irfan Shahid, “Tanū kh,” “Ghassā n,” EI 2nd ed.
14
Abdulla el-Tayib, “Pre-Islamic Poetry,” in Arabic Literature to the End of the Umayyad
Period, ed. A. F. L. Beeston (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), pp. 28–33.
15
“Pre-Islamic Poetry,” pp. 29–33, 45–49, 65–73.
16
This literature was preserved orally and was edited and glossed only in the Islamic period;
thus, our current texts must be considered only an approximation of the pre-Islamic
poetry. Fred McGraw Donner, Narratives of Islamic Origins: The Beginnings of Islamic
Historical Writing, Studies in Late Antiquity and Early Islam; 14 (Princeton, NJ: Darwin
Press, 1998), pp. 5–20; James E. Montgomery, The Vagaries of the Qası̄ dah: The Tradition
˙
and Practice of Early Arabic Poetry, Gibb literary studies; no. 1 (Cambridge: E. J. W. Gibb
Memorial Trust, 1997), pp. 38–39.
matter how much danger this brought them. The claims of honor often
went against the interest of the individual and the family and even more
against those of the state, but that only enhanced the ideal. These were the
virtues which, as the Bedouin saw it – or at any rate as it was expressed in
literature – distinguished the Bedouin from other peoples and gave them
superiority. What is striking about the image enshrined in early works and
continued in later writing is the emphasis on the difference and distance
between Bedouin and settled peoples; much greater in literary traditions
than it probably was in real life.17 Connected with this separation is an
attachment to the desert as the locus of nomadic life and personal free-
dom. The classic pre-Islamic ode began with a lament over a deserted
campsite, followed by an amatory adventure and a journey on either
a horse or a camel. All of these were normally set in the desert, adorned
with place names and a description of the landscape, weather and wildlife:
Oh abode of Mayyah on height and peak!
It lies abandoned
And so long a time has passed it by.
the identity of those who had passed by, sometimes by recognizing the
print of an individual camel.20 Many, perhaps most, Bedouin, however,
spent only the cold months in the desert and the summer under tighter
authority at desert wells or among settled peoples. This was the time at
which taxes were collected, either by tribal leaders or outside powers. It was
sometimes the most prestigious tribal lineages who maintained the closest
ties to settled society.21 The tension between the ideal of desert life as lived
for part of the year and the need to accept greater control during summer
months may be one reason that the desert is emphasized, along with the
ideal of the pure Bedouin, disdaining the constraints of settled life.
There was also a question of authority within the tribe itself. In the ideal,
the tribal shaykhs was first among equals but the organization of large-scale
trade or warfare undoubtedly required the imposition of additional discip-
line. The pre-Islamic Arabic poetry we know originated in the sixth century
when the system of client states was at its height, and this situation
probably threatened the autonomy of individual tribesmen. The client
kings offered wealth and authority to tribal shaykhs and in return expected
them to control their followers. The appointment of tribal clients as tax
collectors to their tribes underlined the subordination of the tribesmen
both to their own chief and to his outside patron. This demand appears to
have been resented, and taxes were sometimes refused.22
The emphasis in many poems on personal freedom – sometimes indeed
transgression – may be in part a response to the diminution of these very
things. Poets who came to the courts to gain recognition sometimes
stressed their claim to equality, and their audience – then and later –
appears to have appreciated their sentiments. The famous ode of ‘Amr
b. Kulthum addressed to the Lakhmid king ‘Amr b. Hind (554–569),
asserting tribal and personal honor in response to tyranny, has been
enshrined among the most famous odes:
With what purpose in view, Amr bin Hind,
do you give heed to our traducers, and despise us?
With what purpose in view, Amr bin Hind,
should we be underlings to your chosen princelet?
Threaten us then, and menace us; but gently!
When, pray, were we your mother’s domestics?23
20
These skills are vividly described for the twentieth century in Wilfred Thesiger, Arabian
Sands (New York: Dutton, 1959).
21
Donner, “The Bakr b. Wā ’il,” pp. 22, 27, 29; Jabbur, Jabbur, and Conrad, The Bedouins
and the Desert, pp. 31–32.
22
Kister, “Al-Hira,” pp. 159–163.
23
A. J. Arberry, The Seven Odes; The First Chapter in Arabic Literature (London, New York:
G. Allen & Unwin; Macmillan, 1957), p. 206.
The early poetry that has come down to us illustrates the ideals
and tensions of a period in which the rivalries of the great powers and
of their client kingdoms offered opportunities for power and wealth
that were hard to resist. The nomad and mountain lifestyles fostered
military skills that made tribesmen valuable to the great powers, and
alliance opened new fields of military action to the tribes. On the
other hand, involvement with outside powers threatened the egalitar-
ian nature of tribal life. While Arab tribesmen accepted the oppor-
tunities offered, they also needed to reassert the power of their ideals
and the locus of their independence.
24
Patricia Crone, Meccan Trade and the Rise of Islam (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1987), pp. 87–108; F. E. Peters, The Arabs and Arabia on the Eve of Islam
(Brookfield, VT: Ashgate, 1998), Introduction, xxxvi, note.
25
Róbert Simon, Meccan Trade and Islam: Problems of Origin and Structure, Bibliotheca
orientalis Hungarica, v. 32 (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 1989), pp. 63–70, 91–95;
Crone, Meccan Trade, pp. 87–108.
26
Crone, Meccan Trade, 117–131.
The rise in Mecca’s trade may have been due in part to the fall of the
client states; in 581–582, the Byzantines deposed the last of the Ghassanids
kings and in 602 the Sasanian emperor executed the Lakhmid king and
established a Persian governor in Hira. The Sasanians and Romans now
dealt directly with the Arab tribes, but they did not become fully involved in
the Arabian Peninsula, because for almost three decades, from 603 to 628,
they were locked in a bitter war with each other. It is possible that the
Roman-Sassanian war benefitted Meccan trade, since leather was a crucial
material for military use and the Roman army consumed it in large quan-
tities. Leather was one of the more important pastoral products, so growing
demand would also have increased the prosperity and importance to the
nomad population.27
The Quraysh were sedentary, but the nomads of the region provided
many of their trade partners and helped maintain the security of their
caravans. Some members of nomadic tribes lived in Mecca, and inter-
marriage with city tribes was not uncommon.28 Like many other
Meccans, Muhammad appears to have been suckled by a woman from
a nomad tribe, but his early career, both as merchant and as prophet, was
among the settled population.29 When he and his followers left Mecca,
the community that offered him a new home was the agricultural oasis of
Medina, where he and his followers arrived in 622.
Muhammad’s religious message reflected his settled background. The
emphasis on loyalty to the religious community – the umma – over the
tribe, and social responsibility over individual glory was not designed to
appeal to Bedouin. During Muhammad’s first years in Medina, he made
some attempts to ally with surrounding tribes, but most of the nomads of
the Hijaz supported the Meccans against him. This was not surprising,
considering the Meccans’ long-standing alliances.30 The lack of sym-
pathy between Bedouins and early Muslims is shown in the Qur’an,
where references to Bedouin are few and largely negative. The word
most often used for camel nomads is a‘rā b or a‘rā bı̄ and it is usually
applied in a pejorative sense. The few Qur’anic passages on the Bedouin
27
Patricia Crone, “Quraysh and the Roman Army: Making Sense of the Meccan Leather
Trade,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 70, no. 1 (2007).
28
Lecker, The Banū Sulaym, pp. 107–134; Kister, “Mecca and the Tribes of Arabia,”
pp. 33–34, 38; W. Montgomery Watt, Muhammad at Mecca (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1953), p. 89.
29
Watt, Muhammad at Mecca, pp. 34–36.
30
W. Montgomery Watt, Muhammad at Medina (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1956), pp.
17–36; Fred M. Donner, “Muhammad’s Political Consolidation in Arabia up to the
˙
Conquest of Mecca: A Reassessment,” The Muslim World 69, no. 3 (1979): pp. 236–239.
The existence of numerous small oases throughout the Hijaz encouraged a mixed econ-
omy among local tribes; except for those in the major oases, most apparently depended
primarily on pastoralism.
31
Binay, Die Figur des Beduinen, pp. 78–89.
32
Donner, “Muhammad’s Political Consolidation,” pp. 240–245; Watt, Muhammad at
˙
Medina, pp. 48–55.
33
Watt, Muhammad at Medina, pp. 66–73; Donner, “Muhammad’s Political
Consolidation,” pp. 245–246. ˙
34
Elias Shoufani, Al-Riddah and the Muslim Conquest of Arabia (Toronto: University of
Toronto Press, 1973), pp. 10–46; Donner, The Early Islamic Conquests, pp. 102–111.
power centers. The other was the presence of nomad populations with
a mobile lifestyle and control of inaccessible terrain. It is important to
remember that while tribalism and nomadism were often connected,
many – probably most – Arabian tribesmen were not nomads. Thus, the
policies towards tribes and those towards nomads should be distinguished
from each other. Neither is easy to discern, since the sources at our
disposal were not written down until the eighth and ninth centuries. We
can learn more about cultural attitudes towards tribes and nomads than
about reality. When examining tribes, we can discover something about
the policies of the central government, and the histories pay loving atten-
tion to inter-tribal politics and rivalries; what is less clear is how tribes
were organized. On the question of nomadism there is very little material.
Even when historians were interested in determining the actions of the
Bedouin, they were dependent on traditions which distinguished among
various tribes, but not between their nomadic and settled sections.
The control of tribes was clearly a major concern from the beginning of
Muhammad’s career. The Muslim army required tighter discipline than
tribal structure would allow, and much of it was made up of individuals or
sections of tribes who campaigned under commanders close to the ruler.
Members of the same tribe often belonged to different regiments.41 There
was also a systematic effort to detach potential soldiers from their tribes.
Muhammad and his successors called on new converts to perform the
hijra: to leave their homeland to devote themselves to the expansion of the
Muslim community. During Muhammad’s lifetime the invitation was to
settle in Medina. Clearly such a move could be difficult for farmers, who
would have to give up their land, but it was even harder for nomads,
whose livelihood depended on livestock, territory and social cooperation.
Muslim traditions (hadı̄ th) record exceptions granted by Muhammad
˙
which permitted sincere converts to remain in their original tribal regions,
but this appears to have involved a lower status.42
Once the conquests were underway the caliph ‘Umar and his succes-
sors invoked the concept of hijra to encourage immigration into the
conquered lands and to control new arrivals. Muslims were deliberately
kept apart from the local populations and settled in garrison cities.
Muslims who were active in government or army were allotted regular
stipends inscribed in the official register (dı̄ wā n), calculated according to
the date of conversion and service to the Muslim cause; this created a new
hierarchy based on religious primacy, which favored the largely sedentary
early converts. Those who performed the hijra to settle in the garrison
41
Donner, The Early Islamic Conquests, pp. 119, 221–226; Kaegi, Byzantium, pp. 72, 123.
42
Patricia Crone, “The First-century Concept of Hiğ ra,” Arabica 41 (1994), p. 356.
cities – known as muhā jirū n or muqā tila – received regular salaries. People
who remained in their own territories might fight in the army but received
only the booty of the campaigns in which they participated.43 Taxation
fell most heavily on non-Muslims, while Muslims originally paid only an
alms tax on wealth: for the settled the zakā t, and for nomads a tax in
animals, known as the sadaqa.44 There is controversy over whether the
˙
hijra was part of a deliberate policy to weaken nomads, who might
threaten an orderly state. Whether or not the policy was aimed against
nomads, it must certainly have been designed to increase government
control.
The promotion of the hijra suggests a policy aimed against tribalism, but
nonetheless within garrison cities immigrants were organized along tribal
lines. Members of a tribe were settled in the same quarter, and often shared
a mosque and a guest house. It was the tribal shaykhs who were responsible
for paying salaries and who recruited soldiers for campaigns.45 The con-
tinued use of tribal organization in the army and cities may have been
a concession to Arab traditions, but it also offered significant advantages to
the state. The system brought the tribes into the sphere of government and,
what may have been equally important, stabilized their leadership. The
connection of tribal structures to stipends and recruitment permitted the
state to interfere in the choice of tribal shaykhs, traditionally chosen within
the tribe. The chiefs, appointed as pay masters and as commanders, now
depended partly on the state for their authority and were responsible to the
central government for the actions of the men under them.46
The retention of tribal organization had another major advantage, as
a tool for the exclusion of the conquered population from membership in
the ruling elite. The Caliphs naturally relied heavily on the men who had
served the Romans and Persians to administer their new lands. It was
desirable to consider these people inferior and foreign to the Arab
Muslims, and the tribal system provided a useful marker. The organiza-
tion of military power along tribal lines helped to underline Arab exclu-
sivity even as the Muslim armies accepted increasing numbers of non-
43
F. Løkkegaard, “Fay,” EI 2nd ed.; Wilferd Madelung, “Has the Hijra Come to an End?”
in Mélanges offerts au professeur Dominique Sourdel, Revue des Études Islamiques, vol. LIV
(Paris: Paul Geunther, 1986), pp. 232–234.
44
As usual with administrative terminology, the usage of these terms is not entirely consist-
ent. Orthmann, Stamm und Macht, pp. 173–174.
45
Stamm und Macht, pp. 81–97; Donner, The Early Islamic Conquests, pp. 228–240.
46
Donner, The Early Islamic Conquests, p. 259; Martin Hinds, “Kûfan Political Alignments
and Their Background in the Mid-Seventh Century A.D.,” International Journal of Middle
East Studies 2 (1971), p. 347; Hugh Kennedy, The Armies of the Caliphs: Military and
Society in the Early Islamic State, Warfare and History (London; New York: Routledge,
2001), p. 22.
Arab and particularly Persians troops, highly respected for their mastery
of military arts.47 In the matter of religion, tribal structures were used
even more effectively. The Arabian Muslims defined themselves both by
religion and by origin, and as the ruling stratum they had every reason to
keep themselves distinct. Most land was left in the hands of its previous
owners, and only land owned by non-Muslims was subject to tax. For the
conquered peoples therefore, conversion to Islam could bring financial
advantage, and for the government a loss of revenue. One barrier used to
prevent large-scale conversion was based on the centrality of tribalism to
Arab identity. To become Muslim, the convert had to affiliate himself
with an existing Arab tribe, accepting low status as mawla, or client, the
status given to freed prisoners of war.48
During his reign and those of his descendants, known as the Sufyanids, the
soldiers of the garrison cities were the regular armies, and whatever their
origins, they themselves were separated from a nomadic lifestyle. The
policy of hijra continued and the garrisons circled the desert, thus poten-
tially exerting control over its nomad populations.
Mu‘awiya’s death in 680 unleashed a new civil war, as candidates from
other branches of the Quraysh attempted to win the caliphate. The two
most important challengers were ‘Abd Allah Ibn al-Zubayr, the son of one
of Muhammad’s companions, and Husayn, the son of ‘Ali b. Abu Talib.
The dynasty was rescued by Marwan, a member of a different Umayyad
lineage, whose descendants held the caliphate to the end of the dynasty.
Marwan had first to rise within the Umayyad camp, and then to win over
the Syrian army, a significant part of which favored Ibn al-Zubayr, par-
ticularly the tribes centered in the Jazira and northern Syria. Marwan
achieved success with the help of the Kalb and several tribes of more local
power in Syria.
Even the Kalb, who had intermarried with the Umayyad house, had to
be won over, and they were powerful enough to impose conditions for
their support. The terms proposed by the tribe’s leader, Ibn Bahdal,
provide a telling illustration of the position of Bedouins and their shaykhs
in the early Umayyad period. Ibn Bahdal demanded that he continue to
hold same high position he had under Mu‘awiya and his son Yazid: 2,000
Kalb would get yearly pay of 2,000 dirhams, which was the highest
stipend for non-Quraysh aristocracy, and Ibn Bahdal would have unre-
stricted control, presumably over the people and territory of his tribe. He
also wanted assurance that he would have leadership of the tribal council
and that after his death either his son or his cousin would lead the Kalb.50
These are large demands and show the centrality of the Kalb position, but
they also suggest the dependence of the tribe on the state. There is an
assumption here that the caliph had the power to appoint the tribal leader,
and that the caliph, not the tribes themselves, determined the member-
ship of the tribal council. The Kalb held significant power within the
state, but their tribe was not a totally self-governing entity.
The decisive victory for Marwan and the Umayyad dynasty was
achieved in a long and destructive battle at Marj Rahit, north of
Damascus, during the summer of 684, during which the coalition oppos-
ing Marwan was defeated and a large number were killed. When the
Marwanid lineage replaced Mu‘awiya’s line, the organization of the
Interpretation of Islamic History,” in Studies on the Civilization of Islam, ed. Stanford Shaw
and William R. Polk (Boston: Beacon Press, 1962), p. 7.
50
Gernot Rotter, Die Umayyaden und der zweite Bürgerkrieg (680–692), Abhandlungen für
die Kunde des Morgenlandes; Bd. 45, Nr. 3 (Wiesbaden: Steiner, 1982), p. 147.
army and the role of the Arab tribes in dynastic politics underwent
a change. Marwan’s successor ‘Abd al-Malik (685–705) centralized the
realm and created a more professional army. While Mu‘awiya had chosen
his major commanders from the tribal aristocracy, from the time of ‘Abd
al-Malik commanders of more modest descent were preferred and the
army contained significant numbers of non-Arabian troops. Over time,
moreover, the garrison armies of Basra and Kufa were marginalized, and
the Syrian army was used to maintain control even outside its own
province.51
Although army units no longer mirrored the tribal structure of the
conquest, tribes remained important in politics and in the military. The
battle of Marj Rahit, which was devastating to the defeated tribes, marked
the beginning of factional rivalry between two parties envisioned in tribal
terms: the Qays, consisting of tribes identified as being of northern origin,
most of whom supported Ibn al-Zubayr; and the Yamani, to which the
Kalb belonged, identified with southern origins.52 The continuing fac-
tional struggle between Qays and Yaman incorporated local struggles
over land use and regional preeminence. Starting with Marj Rahit, the
desire for vengeance – justified as a tribal obligation – ensured a constant
succession of raids and battles, both small and large. The resulting
disorder and factionalism lasted to – indeed through – the end of the
Umayyad dynasty and was a major cause of its weakness.53 The schism
spread to other regions, taking on a variety of names. There has been
a great deal of debate about what these factions meant and how they
functioned.54 Whatever their actual nature, they kept alive the concept of
tribalism and its relevance to politics. Only after the ‘Abbasid revolution
and the remodeling of the caliphate on a more Persian model did the
factions gradually die out.
55
Michael G. Morony, Iraq after the Muslim Conquest (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1984), pp. 229–232.
56
Morony, Iraq after the Muslim Conquest, p. 231; Rotter, Die Umayyaden, pp. 126–133;
Claus-Peter Haase, “Untersuchungen zur Landschaftsgeschichte Nordsyriens in der
Umayyadenzeit,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Universität Hamburg (1975),
pp. 140–144.
57
Haase, “Untersuchungen zur Landschaftsgeschichte,” pp. 121–126, 147–169; Chase
F. Robinson, “Tribes and Nomads in Early Islamic Northern Mesopotamia,” in
Continuity and Change in Northern Mesopotamia from the Hellenistic to the Early Islamic
Period, ed. Karin Bartl and Stefan R. Hauser, Berliner Beiträge zum Vorderen Orient,
Band 17 (Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 1996).
58
Haase, “Untersuchungen zur Landschaftsgeschichte,” pp. 149, 153–155; Orthmann,
Stamm und Macht, pp. 81–98.
59
Gideon Avni, Nomads, Farmers, and Town-Dwellers: Pastoralist-Sedentist Interaction in the
Negev Highlands, Sixth-Eighth Centuries C.E (Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority,
1996), pp. 55–57, 90–91.
60
G. R. D. King, “The Umayyad Qusur and Related Settlements in Jordan,” in The IVth
International Congress of the History of Bilad al-Sham, ed. Muhammad ‘Adnan al-Bakhit
and Ihsan ‘Abbas (Amman: al-Jami‘a al-Urduniya, 1987), pp. 74–79. For a good discus-
sion of the literature to 1995, see Michael Wood, “A History of the Balqā ’ Region of
Central Transjordan during the Umayyad Period,” unpublished PhD dissertation,
McGill University (1995), pp. 71–96: for nomads particularly 94–96.
61
Sonderforschungsbereich 19 “Tübinger Atlas des Vorderen Orients,” Tübinger Atlas des
Vorderen Orients (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1977), compare AX 1 (Kopp, 1989) and AX 11
(Scholtz, 1989).
62
Tübinger Atlas, map AX 11.
63
King, “The Umayyad Qusur,” pp. 76–77, 79; “The Distribution of Sites and Routes in
the Jordanian and Syrian Deserts in the early Islamic Period,” in Proceedings of the
these various purposes, since the use of the desert routes, the provisioning
of the army, and the security of the settled region all depended on rela-
tions with Bedouin tribes. In the Jazira as well, the Umayyads showed
concern for the control of partly nomad tribes.64
The place of nomads in the Umayyad army is difficult to ascertain. The
Umayyad army was largely Syrian, and thus presumably included recruits
from the tribes of the desert. We should remember also that the regular
army enrolled in the dı̄ wā n did not provide all the troops used by the
Umayyads. Important commanders, often members of the dynasty,
increasingly recruited their own troops, whose pay may still have come
from the central government.65 There were also auxiliary troops raised for
particular campaigns; primarily nomadic tribes certainly contributed to
some of these units.66 However, the sources rarely specify what section of
the tribe troops came from, or whether regular soldiers were recruited
from regions beyond the garrison cities and their attached lands.67 We
can conclude that Umayyad armies included soldiers from nomad groups
and some auxiliary troops were in tribal formation at least at the lower
levels. We cannot judge, without more detailed research, what proportion
of the army was nomad and whether significant numbers of Bedouin were
among the elite troops.68
Finally, we must attempt to determine the importance of nomadism in
political life. Did nomads represent a distinct group in conflicts within the
state? Were they a threat to stability or the economy on their own account?
In general, the answer to these questions should be a qualified “no.”
While nomad concerns added fuel to some rivalries and nomads contrib-
uted manpower to several revolts, the political fault lines were religious
and regional. The factional rivalry between the Qays and Yamani blocks
began with the battle at Marj Rahit in 684, which was fought over the
issue of the caliphate. Over the next years, continued contests over land
Twentieth Seminar for Arabian Studies held at London on 1st–4th July 1986 (London:
Seminar for Arabian Studies, Institute of Archaeology, 1987); Wood, “A History of the
Balqa-Region,” pp. 61–70.
64
Robinson, “Tribes and Nomads,” p. 443.
65
Kennedy, Armies of the Caliphs, pp. 47–49.
66
Kennedy, Armies of the Caliphs, p. 49; Dixon, Umayyad Caliphate, p. 56; Morony, Iraq
after the Muslim Conquest, pp. 249–250.
67
Orthmann, Stamm und Macht, pp. 40–41.
68
Scholars have come to different conclusions about the proportion of Bedouin troops
active at this time. See, for instance, Patricia Crone, “The Early Islamic World,” in War
and Society in the Ancient and Medieval Worlds. Asia, the Mediterranean, Europe and
Mesoamerica, ed. Kurt Raaflaub and Nathan Rosenstein (Washington, DC: Center for
Hellenic Studies, Harvard University, 1999), pp. 316–317; Kurt Franz, Vom Beutezug
zur Territorialherrschaft. Beduinische Gruppen in mittelislamischer Zeit, vol. 5, Nomaden und
Sesshafte (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 2007), pp. 120, 199.
combined with the desire for vengeance to keep the tribes of Syria in
a state of feud, contributed to the ill-feeling between the two factions.69
Some land in dispute was pasture, but some may well have been agricul-
tural. In the Qays-Yamani split, as in the division between the supporters
of Ibn Zubayr and the Umayyads, regional issues were more central than
the division between settled and nomadic. Thus, in general the northern-
most region, the Jazira, contained primarily Qaysi tribes, often at odds
with the more southern Syrian regions. The division between Iraqi and
Syrian interests is also well known; here the discontents appear to have
centered around the distribution of wealth and privilege and, in Kufa,
questions of religion. Although there were some raids and occasional
problems with routes, the relations between the Bedouin and towns-
people seem not to have been a source of serious trouble.
When we examine the position of nomads – as nomads – in the early
Islamic state, we find a situation which had elements in common with pre-
Islamic Syria and Arabia. There does not appear to have been a major
shift in the ratio of nomad and settled populations, and the Umayyads
seem to have been successful in their attempt to co-opt the chiefs of the
Syrian Bedouin. Aside from the interior deserts, there was no one region
totally dominated by nomads, and almost none were free of them. Thus,
the system earlier visible in the Arabian Peninsula, in which almost all
regions, tribes, and states included farmers, Bedouin and nomads with
mixed flocks, seems to have spread to the new heartland of the Islamic
state. What is probably most different is the level of integration of the
nomadic population into state structures. Nomads were now less
excluded, but probably more controlled.
69
Dixon, Umayyad Caliphate, pp. 84–119; Rotter, Die Umayyaden, pp. 133–146.
70
Fred M. Donner, “Umayyad Efforts at Legitimation: The Umayyads’ Silent Heritage,”
in Umayyad Legacies: Medieval Memories from Syria to Spain, ed. Antoine Burrut and
Paul M. Cobb (Leiden: Brill, 2010); Fred M. Donner, Muhammad and the Believers at
the Origins of Islam (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, Harvard University Press, 2010),
pp. 217–220.
actors than as an iconic image. The Bedouin came to stand for the pre-
Islamic past of the Arabs and for their separate identity within the larger
world. For many city Arabs, Bedouin provided the definition of the
inferior society they had left behind with the jā hilı̄ ya – the age of ignorance
before the rise of Islam.71 At the same time, the desert and the Bedouin
formed the base for much of the best-loved literature of that period, which
remained highly popular. The desert nomad became an ambivalent fig-
ure; he was uncouth, irreligious and lawless, but also brave and generous.
As we have seen, references to nomads in the Qur’an were largely
negative. The number of hadı̄ th describing Bedouin as inferior Muslims
suggests disapproval among ˙ some of the population also in the first
centuries of Islam. Muhammad was reported to have made disparaging
remarks about them. He was said to have forbidden Bedouin from leading
muhā jirū n in prayer; Bedouin were lax in prayer, tending to put off the
evening prayer until they had milked their camels; women of the
muhā jirū n should not marry them lest they slide back into Bedouin
ways.72 However, one finds some traditions which suggest a more positive
view. One hadı̄ th, for instance, concerns a Bedouin who entered a mosque
˙
during Muhammad’s lifetime, and casually urinated inside it. Incensed,
the Muslims yelled at him, but Muhammad ordered that he be let go and
simply poured water over the urine.73
It was in the literary sphere that the Bedouin became useful. The art of
tribal Arabic poetry was actively promoted by the Umayyad caliphs, who
sponsored a return to pre-Islamic poetic traditions. Mu‘awiya set up his
court at Damascus, near the former capital of the Ghassanids, and like
them, he patronized poets. Thus, the pre-Islamic poem of eulogy and
denigration – the qası̄ da – continued to flourish. Since Mu‘awiya and his
˙
successors chose to rule through the tribal system, it is not surprising to
find that the qası̄ da continued to be used also in the service of tribal rivalry.
˙
The form and imagery of the qası̄ da were highly stylized, and its nomad
˙
references firmly set. For poets remaining within the genre, the locus
remained the desert, and the mores those of the nomad.74 The famous
poem composed by the poet al-Akhtal for the caliph Marwan after the
victory at Marj Rahit in 684 both praises the caliph and claims for his own
71
Binay, Die Figur des Beduinen, pp. 3–7, 26.
72
Robinson, “Tribes and Nomads,” pp. 441; Crone, “The First-Century Concept of
Hiğ ra,” pp. 360–371; Sulayman Bashı̄ r, Arabs and Others in Early Islam, Studies in Late
Antiquity and Early Islam; 8 (Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1997), pp. 10–14; Binay, Die
Figur des Beduinen, pp. 106–125.
73
Bukharı̄ , vol. I, bk 4, numbers 218, 221; Sahih Muslim, vol. II, numbers 558, 559. www
.hadithcollection.com
74
Jaroslav Stetkevych, The Zephyrs of Najd: The Poetics of Nostalgia in the Classical Arabic
Nası̄ b (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), pp. 111–122.
tribe, the Taghlib, a greater prestige than they probably held. The Taghlib
was a tribe on the central Euphrates which raised primarily sheep, goats
and horses, and thus did not enjoy the cachet of the camel Bedouin. At
this time, moreover, they were still largely Christian, and therefore pre-
sumably ranked low in both the religious and the tribal hierarchies.75 In
the ode, nonetheless, the pure-bred camels appear with the Taghlib, while
their enemies, many of them originally Bedouin, are associated with the
inferior animals – sheep, goats and asses.76 The many battles associated
with the Qays/Yamani rivalry were commemorated both in poetry and in
prose, and rivals also recalled their pre-Islamic exploits, thus keeping alive
the pre-Islamic historical tradition of the ayyā m al-‘arab.77
Interest in poetry and the use of Bedouin imagery was not confined to court
and army. The reconstitution of tribal structure under the early caliphs and
later the Qays-Yamani factionalism ensured that rivalries would take on
a tribal nomenclature; thus, the historical and legendary traits ascribed to
particular tribes became the object of scholarly research. The creation of
a subordinate class of recent converts, the mawā lı̄ , and their attempt to gain
greater status encouraged the political use of pre-Islamic Arab traditions,
which could be mined to find weapons against rivals and upstarts. The
science of genealogy soon became important, and its practitioners sought
after.78 The new learned classes of the cities in Iraq pursued knowledge of the
Bedouin for other reasons – ironically as a tool for understanding the Qur’an,
a text hardly friendly to the Bedouin ideal. The Bedouin were seen as great
masters of speech and moreover, as desert dwellers who had remained away
from the cities, they were the key to the understanding of earlier language and
habits necessary to the urban commentators, most living outside the Arabian
Peninsula.79 The greatest centers for the elaboration of Bedouin studies were
the cities in Iraq – Kufa and most especially Basra – which although they
started as garrisons soon had a mixed population and an active economy
supporting a learned leisure class. Basra, closer to the desert, stood out,
perhaps because of its famous market, the Mirbad, which attracted desert
Bedouin conveniently to the doorstep of city scholars.80 Iranian converts
75
Stetkevych, Poetics, Chapters 2–3 (pp. 51–108).
76
Stetkevych, Poetics, pp. 90, 96–97.
77
Dixon, Umayyad Caliphate, p. 89; Donner, Narratives of Islamic Origins, pp. 196–197.
78
Morony, Iraq after the Muslim Conquest, pp. 237–238, 254–258; Claude Cahen, “History
and Historians,” in Religion, Learning and Science in the ‘Abbasid Period, ed. J. D. Latham ;
R. B. Sergeant ; M. J. L Young, Cambridge History of Arabic Literature (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1990), p. 189; Goldziher, Muslim Studies, pp. 126–131,
167–175; el-Tayib, “Pre-Islamic Poetry,” pp. 389, 393, 409.
79
Binay, Die Figur des Bedouinen, pp. 50–52.
80
Charles Pellat, Le milieu basrien et la formation de Ğ ā ḫ iz (Paris: Librairie d’Amérique et
d’Orient Adrien-Maisonneuve,˙ 1953), pp. 5–12, 34–35, ˙ 37–47; Morony, Iraq after the
Muslim Conquest, pp. 195, 198, 208–209, 271.
began to write in Arabic, and the literary language started to include Persian
words, while the first translations of Persian literature into Arabic were
undertaken. In response, many poets and philologists sought out Bedouin
lexicography to enshrine in their works.81
When the Arab elites defined themselves against their non-Arab sub-
jects, the Bedouin ceased to be the uncouth “other” and became the
unpolluted “self.” Fear that the prestige and the fighting strength of
Arabs could be damaged by too close an association with their subject
peoples was openly expressed. The problem was particularly acute in
Iraq, where Persian influence was strong, and became sharper as the
governors ‘Ubayd Allah b. Ziyad (675–684) and al-Hajjaj (694–714)
worked to develop a more centralized administration.82 In 683, ‘Ubayd
Allah reportedly declared in the Friday sermon (khutba) in Basra, “We
˙
have worn silk, the striped cloth of Yaman, and soft clothing until our
skins have become disgusted with it. We must replace it with iron.”83
Likewise among the religious classes, settled and Persian ways were
frowned upon, and we find hadı̄ th warning against such Persian habits
˙
as using a knife at meals or rising as a mark of respect.84 By the end of the
Umayyad period there was a significant bilingual elite within which
people of different origins and traditions worked closely together, but
nonetheless the Arabs as rulers and the military class had managed to
retain – or to create – a consciously separate character, based in part on
a carefully preserved corpus of Bedouin lore and literature.
Conclusion
In some ways the dynamics of Arabian conquest and rule resemble those
of earlier dynasties in the Middle East. The Arabian population began as
a peripheral society using a variety of methods to wrest a living from
marginal lands. It was brought into the orbit of the neighboring states
first because the territory lay across important trade routes, and second
because Arabians were useful as troops. After several centuries of service,
strife, and mutual political interference, the Arabs organized and con-
quered not one empire, but all of one and part of another. Once in power
81
H. A. R. Gibb, “The Social Significance of the Shuubiya,” in Studies on the Civilization of
Islam, ed. Stanford J. Shaw and William R. Polk (Boston: Beacon Press, 1962), p. 63;
C. E. Bosworth, “The Persian Impact on Arabic Literature,” in Arabic Literature to the
End of the Umayyad Period, ed. T. M. Johnstone A. F. L. Beeston, R. B. Sergeant and
G. R. Smith (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), p. 492.
82
Morony, Iraq after the Muslim Conquest, pp. 51–53, 59–61, 66–68, 74–75, 79.
83
Morony, Iraq after the Muslim Conquest, pp. 262–263.
84
Bosworth, “The Persian Impact,” p. 484.
they adopted many of the traditions of their subject peoples while retain-
ing an elite identity as outsiders.
The people of the Arabian Peninsula did not have a common economic
strategy or belong to one political tradition, but they did share a poetic
language and a tribal tradition in which leadership by consent combined
with an egalitarian ethic and a code of conduct covering most aspects of
life. While the tribal code was powerful in towns and agricultural districts,
it reflected Bedouin society in its emphasis on warfare, hospitality and
equality. Effective leadership, however, came most often from settled
tribes or sections, particularly from those who had access to additional
religious legitimation which could transcend tribal separatism.
If we examine the history of nomad and settled through the formation
of the caliphate, what we see could be understood as the expansion of
settled power. In the first centuries of camel nomadism, largely nomad
confederations had controlled several of the major trade routes by center-
ing themselves in the larger oases, and while the oases developed a strong
agricultural base, the Bedouin remained crucial to the control of trade.
After the Roman takeover of the Syrian coast, nomads remained import-
ant as troops and were courted by the client kings of the Romans and
Sasanians. From the time of Muhammad, the balance appears to have
changed. It is notable that Muhammad’s community, centered in towns
living from trade and agriculture, succeeded in building up a coalition
able to expand through the whole of the peninsula and beyond. The early
outside conquests were the work of primarily sedentary soldiers, with the
Hijazis at the center. The need for new manpower in the conquest army
after 634 led to the inclusion of tribes who converted later, some of whom
were largely Bedouin, but at the same time the creation of garrison cities
and the emphasis on the hijra discouraged a fully nomadic lifestyle within
the central army.
The Umayyads controlled three sides of the desert, leaving only south-
ern and eastern Arabia relatively independent, and these were no longer
critical areas. Thus, the nomad tribes of the central deserts could no
longer play one power against another. On the other hand, the
Umayyads had to deal more closely with the desert. While the
Byzantines and Sasanians had used client kings to protect themselves
from raids by desert nomads or attacks from the rival empire, the
Umayyads had to incorporate nomads and their habitat in order to keep
their state together. Many Arabs did remain nomadic, and Bedouin
continued to make up part of the army. We cannot characterize the
Umayyads as a tribal confederation, but the dynasty did bring both
tribalism and nomad populations into state structures. The chiefs of
largely Bedouin tribes such as the Kalb were now part of the central
85
Crone, Slaves on Horses, pp. 93–94.
On their victory in 750 the ‘Abbasids moved the capital of the caliphate
from Syria to the old imperial center in Mesopotamia and brought a shift
in the composition of court personnel and the standing army. For the
nomads of the Islamic lands the first 250 years of Abbasid rule repre-
sented a period of relative exclusion, followed by a rise to power and
importance. As nomads regained power, the Bedouin were joined by new
groups who enlarged the sphere of nomad control. Abbasid commanders
and the Persian bureaucrats who dominated the Abbasid administration
brought a more eastern geographical consciousness. For the Bedouin and
the Arab tribesmen of Syria, early Abbasid rule meant a drop in status and
probably in prosperity. In other partly nomadic areas, on the other hand,
the Abbasids brought new energy for expansion and consolidation. As the
Jazira, Azerbaijan, Kurdistan and the Caspian provinces gained import-
ance, the nomads and mountain peoples of these regions developed into
political powers.
In the ninth century a new military class emerged as the troops that the
‘Abbasids had brought with them were first supplemented and then
gradually replaced by Turkic soldiers. This was the first appearance of
an ethnic group which has played a central role in the history of the
Middle East. The Turks were imported from the Eurasian steppe in
small groups or as individuals, some originally slaves, and they were
used as highly trained cavalry. By the middle of the ninth century, the
three leading ethnic groups of the central Islamic lands – Arabs, Persians
and Turks – were all recognized as an integral part of the governing elite.
It seems ironic that it should have been under the Abbasids that the
Bedouin developed into independent political powers, since the Abbasid
revolution appeared to shift power away from their lands. During the
Umayyad period the Syrian desert had held a central position. Bedouins
therefore could not be excluded, but when they were active, they were
usually led by settled powers; tribal leaders were active forces in govern-
ment politics but did not establish independent dynasties.
55
1
The region of Marw, which was the garrison center for Khorasan, was on the edge of the
desert and noted for camel raising; many Arabs also inhabited Qumis, also a region known
for livestock. Heinz Gaube and Thomas Leisten, Die Kernländer des ‘Abbā sidenreiches im
10./11. Jh.: Materialien zur TAVO-Karte B VII 6, Beihefte zum Tübinger Atlas des
Vorderen Orients. Reihe B, Geisteswissenschaften; Nr. 75 (Wiesbaden: L. Reichert,
1994), 37, 110; Vladimir Minorsky, V. V. Bartol’d, and Clifford Edmund Bosworth,
Hudū d al-‘Ā lam; “The Regions of the World”: A Persian Geography, 372 A.H.–982 A.D.,
2nd ed., E. J. W. Gibb memorial series; new ser., 11 (London: Luzac, 1970), p. 104.)
2
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 120, 199.
3
Hugh Kennedy, The Prophet and the Age of the Caliphates: The Islamic Near East from the
Sixth to the Eleventh Century (London; New York: Longman, 1986), pp. 126–131.
4
Hugh Kennedy, The Early Abbasid Caliphate: A Political History (London; Totowa, NJ:
Croom Helm; Barnes & Noble, 1981), pp. 59–60, 67–68, 74.
Over the two centuries of its existence, the khaghanate had broken down
and fragmented several times. Some Turkic tribes moved west and
became the dominant groups on the Transoxanian frontier; many also
moved into Transoxiana and Khorasan. With the break-up of the western
section of the khaghanate in 737–738, these groups became independent
and available for recruitment. The Turkic borderlands provided oppor-
tunity for volunteer fighters for the faith who could at once spread the
banner of Islam and acquire prisoners of war to sell as slaves.
The Turks were brought in largely as individuals or small groups,
separated from their own society, many of them originally purchased as
slaves. There is some controversy over the extent of actual slavery within
the Turkic forces. Some clearly came in as free men, often prestigious,
while others were purchased but later freed, and fought as free men.5 The
purchased slaves, ideally young men or adolescents, were given intensive
training in military arts, and usually converted to Islam. They were kept
together and separate from the population, to encourage loyalty to the
dynasty. Fully trained as professional soldiers, many achieved high rank
in the army. Known as mamlū k or ghulā m, or often simply as Turks, they
became a standard part of standing armies, and often a considerable
political force.
Ma’mun had recruited Turkic military from the eastern borderlands
and when he took Baghdad from al-Amin he used them, along with
Khorasanians, to augment the standing army. During al-Ma’mun’s
reign his brother, the future caliph al-Mu‘tasim, also began gathering
a personal guard of Turkic slave soldiers from Transoxiana and the
Caucasus. A number of these were slave soldiers but there were also
several powerful Turkic military families in Baghdad, some of them
apparently of aristocratic background.6 From this time on, mamluks
were part of most major Middle Eastern armies.7 When al-Mu‘tasim
became caliph in 833, the Turkish soldiers still formed only a personal
guard, but their numbers grew over time. Estimates of the size of the
Turkic guard vary widely, from a few thousand to over 100,000.8
A foreign standing army quartered in the capital city is likely to show
signs of arrogance. This had happened with the Khorasanian army and
became an even greater problem with the Turkic troops, who were
5
See, for example, Kennedy, Armies of the Caliphs, pp. 120–123; Matthew Gordon, The
Breaking of a Thousand Swords: A History of the Turkish Military of Samarra, A.H. 200–
275/815–889 C.E (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2001), pp. 6–8.
6
Gordon, The Breaking, pp. 2, 157–160.
7
For a more skeptical view of Mamluk importance, see Deborah G. Tor, “The Mamluks in
the Military of the Pre-Seljuq Persianate Dynasties,” Iran 46 (2008).
8
Gordon, The Breaking, pp. 71–73.
admirable ones. Much of the writing was satirical, making full use of irony
and caricature.18
In the literature of the Shu‘biyya and its opponents, the character
sketched out for Arabs is that of the Bedouin and the warrior. In al-
Jahiz’s characterization, the Arabs were not merchants, artisans,
scholars, or farmers (all of which they were in fact by this time);
rather, they lived in the plains and grew up in contemplation of the
desert.19 Arab strength was seen as having derived in part from their
minimal needs and their ability to bear want and hardship.20 The
group of people thus imagined was the ruling class, whose supposed
traits of simplicity and honesty were connected to the legitimacy of
their rule.21 The subject elite, particularly the Persians, are portrayed
in opposite terms, – overdressed, pretentious, at once proud, servile,
and fearful.22 The deprived life and faintly repulsive habits of the
Bedouins, lampooned by the Persian, are thus turned around to
become sources of virtue for the Arabs:
Our life, by God, is a life which can in no way be called deprived. Our food is the
tastiest and most wholesome: colocynth, lizards, jerboas, hedgehogs and snakes.
Sometimes by God, we eat lambskin, roasting the hide.23
The poet al-Akhlab, writing in 684 after the battle of Marj Rahit, had
characterized such foods as “vile provender” and attributed them to his
enemies as a source of ridicule.24
The fashion for ethnic characterization extended to other groups, includ-
ing those serving in the army. The Turks were a frequent subject. As
a military class from an inhospitable region, they shared the traits of simplicity
and martial character for which the Arabs claimed superiority. At the same
time, they were clearly resented and feared. Much of the ambivalence shown
towards the Bedouin, which I described in Chapter 2, can also be found in
writings about the Turks. Both Bedouins and Turks are distinguished by
their bravery and independence, their ability to bear discomfort and to
survive on a limited diet, and their straightforward behavior. On the negative
side, both are uncouth, often ugly, uneducated, violent and given to
18
Göran Larsson, “Ignaz Goldziher on the Shu‘ū biyya,” Zeitschrift der deutche
morgenländische Geselschaft 155, no. 2 (2005).
19
Pellat, Life and Works, pp. 96–97.
20
al-Jā hiz, Nine essays of al-Jahiz, trans. William M. Hutchins (New York: P. Lang, 1989),
˙ ˙
pp. 126–133 (“Homesickness”), 205–206 (“Turks”); Gérard Lecomte, Ibn Qutayba
(mort en 276/889). L’homme, son oeuvre, ses idées (Damascus: Institut français de
Damas, 1965), pp. 350–351.
21
Lecomte, Ibn Qutayba, pp. 250–253. 22 Pellat, Life and Works, pp. 272–274.
23
Jā hiz, Nine Essays, 128. 24 Stetkevych, Poetics, pp. 96, 108.
˙ ˙
plunder.25 The most positive portrayal of the Turks is that of al-Jahiz, who
praised the martial abilities of the Turks, resulting from their hardiness as
a steppe people and their particular expertise in mounted archery. They are
the “Bedouin of the non-Arabs,” sharing one virtue, that of homesickness for
a native land of purity and discomfort.26
The writings of al-Jahiz and other early Abbasid authors, which have
enjoyed enduring popularity, suggest a recognition of peoples of varied ethnic
backgrounds within the caliphate, with a distinct sphere and character
assigned to each. In the military, the groups more recently added,
Khorasanians and particularly Turks, take place alongside the Arab, typified
as the Bedouin. The Persians, with others of urban and non-military origin,
are given a contrasting and equally exaggerated set of traits. Underlying the
opposite characterizations lies the expectation of a military and ruling class
that was foreign to the subject population in origin and character. The
dichotomy set up at this period lasted throughout the Abbasid period and
even beyond when new Turkic and Mongolian rulers from the Eurasian
steppe took the place of Arabs.
Not all western regions declined under the Abbasids. Under the
Umayyads, Egypt had held little power; now it achieved a position commen-
surate with its wealth in grain and its favorable location for trade. The rulers of
Egypt – Tulunids and Ikshidids – began to extend their power over the cities
of Syria. The Jazira also gained importance. In 772, ten years after founding
the city of Baghdad, the caliph al-Mansur built the city al-Rafiqa near al-
Raqqa on the upper Euphrates as a garrison for frontier troops and a center
for the collection of grain to ship to Iraq.29 Since the Mesopotamian crown
lands – the Sawad – were not sufficient for the demands of an enlarged court
and army, the Jazira, rich in livestock and cereals, became a key supplier.30
Mosul developed into a major regional center, profiting from rain-fed agri-
culture and a location between the steppe inhabited by camel nomads, and
mountain ranges used by nomads raising sheep and horses.
Over the course of the ninth century the decline of the imperial center
further changed the regional balance of power. The most basic problem was
the ongoing deterioration of the rich Sawad region south of Baghdad, which
had provided grain for the cities of Iraq and a good proportion of the state’s
revenue. Over the course of the ninth and tenth century, the dynasty lost
much of the benefit from this region, partly through a vicious cycle of
overuse, need and quick fixes. Internal divisions and disorder added to the
problem.31 From the second half of the ninth century, the caliphs had turned
to grants of land in addition to cash salaries to pay their armies, and as it
became more difficult to gather taxes, the administration resorted to tax
farming. By the tenth century, a significant proportion of the Sawad land of
Mesopotamia was thus no longer directly under government control.32 The
weakness at the center led to growing strength in neighboring regions. Some
reacted with military adventures and moves towards independence. Others
became involved in the politics of the central government.
29
Kennedy, Early Abbasid, pp. 89–90.
30
Muhammad ibn ‘Alı̄ Ibn Hawqal, Configuration de la terre (Kitab surat al-ard), trans.
˙
Johannes Hendrik Kramer and˙ Gaston Wiet (Beyrouth: Commission internationale pour
la traduction des chefs d’oeuvre, 1965), pp. 207–212.; TAVO Atlases AX 1, AX 11.
31
Waines, “The Third Century,” pp. 282–303.
32
Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 189–192, 199; Kennedy, Armies of the Caliphs, pp. 79–87,
128–129; Michael Bonner, “The Waning of Empire, 861–945,” in New Cambridge
History of Islam, ed. Chase Robinson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010),
pp. 352–354.
33
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 162–171, 197–199. 34 Vom Beutezug, pp. 174–175.
35
Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 287–288; Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 54–57.
36
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 57–83.
41
Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 177–179, 185, 192.
42
Martin van Bruinessen, Agha, Shaikh, and State: The Social and Political Structures of
Kurdistan (London; Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Zed Books, 1992), pp. 15–18, 50–53, 111;
V. V. Minorsky, “Kurd, Kurdistan, iii. B History: The Islamic period up to 1920” EI
2nd ed.
43
Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, pp. 209–210.
˙
caliphs than with their officials; viziers and commanders vied for control
amid ever-shifting factions and frequent executions. In 936 the caliphs
achieved a partial solution by creating a new position known as amı̄ r al-
umarā ’, which combined military and fiscal responsibility, giving the
commander of the army control over the whole administration. This
move eliminated some areas of conflict but provided a new office to
fight over. Few men remained in the position for more than a year or
two.44
Problems at the center provided opportunity for surrounding peoples.
Some took advantage of Abbasid weakness to raid, plunder, and extort
concessions. Many others were brought in by the Abbasid government.
Attempting to diversify their army and provide a counterweight to the
powerful Turkic slave soldiers, the caliphs recruited numerous other
ethnic groups into the standing army including Daylamites and
Qaramita – former Bedouin soldiers of the Isma‘ilis. The monetary and
political cost of the standing army also encouraged the use of auxiliary
troops, some of whom were recruited among the Bedouin of the Syrian
desert, others from the tribes of the Jazira.45 Finally, outside powers and
their troops were sought out and brought in as allies by people and parties
in need of help against their rivals – from caliphs to tax farmers. Some of
the power gained by nomad and mountain populations was taken, but
more was given.
44
Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 187–199.
45
Kennedy, Armies of the Caliphs, pp. 157–164; Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 119–133.
46
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 1–9.
The Hamdanids
The Hamdanids began as chiefs of a section of the Banu Taghlib tribe,
between Mosul and Mardin. Part of the tribe was nomadic, though not
Bedouin; as I have stated earlier, they raised primarily sheep and horses.
Other sections were agriculturalists, and grain was an important
product.47 The first well-known member of the Hamdanid lineage,
Hamdan b. Hamdun, became active during the 860s, providing valuable
service to the Abbasids against dissidents in the Jazira.48 His sons held
command within the Abbasid army and secured recognition as governors
over Mosul along with a considerable portion of the Jazira. At the same
time, they became players in the politics of Baghdad at the highest level,
involved in the appointment and dismissal of chief viziers and even the
choice of caliphs.49
Several factors contributed to the rise of the Hamdanids. First, they
enjoyed great wealth from their control of pastures and agricultural lands
in the district of Mosul. Second, they rose to power at a time of confusion
in northern Syria and the Jazira, with new migrations into the region.
Tribes were competing for pasture, raiding and aiding rebellions.50 It is
likely that the shortage of pastures left many in need of additional income,
and a number served in the Abbasid or regional armies. The unsettled
condition of the Jazira made it impossible for the Abbasids to hold Mosul
on their own despite several attempts to retake the region.51
The establishment of the Hamdanid realm as an independent emirate
was the work of one of Hamdan’s grandsons, Hasan (ruled ca. 929–967),
47
Marius Canard, Histoire de la dynastie des H’amdanides de Jazîra et de Syrie (Paris: Presses
universitaires de France, 1953), p. 303; Franz, Vom Beutezug, p. 107.
48
Canard, Histoire, pp. 291–302. 49 Canard, Histoire, pp. 308–351.
50
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 109–112, 180.
51
Canard, Histoire, pp. 343–344, 350–351, 398–401.
usually known by his honorific title Nasir al-Dawla. His career provides
a good illustration of the dynamics of Hamdanid politics. In 936–937
Hasan and his brother received from the Caliph the accoutrements of
regional status – robes of honor, horses and banners – and from this time
they were relatively independent rulers of Mosul. In 938 Hasan refused to
pay taxes and succeeded in holding his own against an Abbasid attack,
largely because Iraq depended on his grain supply.52 In 942, he achieved
the position of amı̄ r al-‘umarā , given on condition that he restore order in
southern Iraq. Both he and his brother received formal titles, Nasir al-
Dawla for him, and Sayf al-Dawla for his brother.53
The office granted to Nasir al-Dawla was less a grant of power than an
invitation to attempt the impossible; the Sawad could not be brought to
order. After less than a year the brothers gave up and returned to Mosul.
One important result of service as amı̄ r al-umarā was the acquisition of
armies of professional soldiers – Turks, Daylamites and Qaramita, a great
advantage in a situation of tribal upheaval. From this time on, Nasir al-
Dawla was the recognized ruler of Mosul and able to expand to the north
and west into Azerbaijan, Armenia and Kurdistan.54 Sayf al-Dawla took
Aleppo in 944, acknowledging the caliph and Nasir al-Dawla in the
Friday prayers, but controlling northern Syria as a largely independent
emirate.55 The Hamdanid family thus rose to power through
a combination of regional strength and office within the central govern-
ment; they were at once outsiders and insiders. While they usually could
not stand against the caliphal army, they had a strong position from which
to bargain, both because Iraq depended heavily on their region for provi-
sions, and because the Mosul region was almost impossible for an out-
sider to hold.
While Nasir al-Dawla worked to retain his hold on Mosul, his brother
Sayf al-Dawla achieved equal or greater power in Aleppo and
Mayyafariqin. He is remembered particularly for his campaigns against
the Bedouin and his success in bringing them under control. He was
dealing with a situation of particular difficulty, since the immigration of
new tribes strained the resources of the region. The Numayr had migrated
north in 921, and new sections of the B. Kilab came into Syria in 936 to
compete for the fertile region between Aleppo and Hama.56
Sayf al-Dawla should not be seen as an enemy of nomads; he made
liberal use of Bedouin in taking and keeping northern Syria. In taking
Aleppo he had the encouragement of the chiefs of the B. Kilab, eager to
52
Canard, Histoire, pp. 378–407. 53 Canard, Histoire, pp. 416–35.
54
Canard, Histoire, pp. 416–451, 492, 514. 55 Canard, Histoire, pp. 491–504.
56
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 109–112.
57
Samir Shamma, “Mirdā s,” in EI 2nd ed.; Canard, Histoire, pp. 501, 587.
58
Canard, Histoire, pp. 598–600.
59
Canard, Histoire, pp. 606–609, 636; Ramzi Jibran Bikhazi, “The Hamdā nid Dynasty of
Mesopotamia and North Syria 254–404/868–1014,” unpublished ˙ PhD dissertation,
University of Michigan (1981), pp. 664–674.
60
Bikhazi, “The Hamdā nid,” pp. 765–773; Canard, Histoire, pp. 611–617; Franz, Vom
˙
Beutezug, pp. 113–114, 117.
61
Canard, Histoire, pp. 644–650; Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 281–284.
The Buyids
The other dynasty instrumental in the rise of nomad power was the Buyid
lineage from Daylam. The dynasty began its rise to power shortly after the
Hamdanids, and soon became a rival for power over the regions north of
Baghdad. It was founded in 935 by three brothers, ‘Ali, Abu ‘Ali Hasan, and
Ahmad. Starting as soldiers of fortune, and taking over the lands of their
former commander, they gained control over almost all of Iran except for
Khorasan.62 They evolved a system of shared rule with each remaining
essentially independent within his territory, but with one member of the
family recognized as senior to the others.63 Within a year of the Buyids’
rise, one of the factions in the contest for power over Iraq sought them out
as allies. Ahmad, sent to help, soon became an important actor in Iraqi
struggles, and in 945 the caliph granted him the office of amı̄ r al-‘umarā
with the title Mu‘izz al-Dawla. Unlike their predecessors, the Buyids were
strong enough to pass on the office of amı̄ r al-umarā within their family. From
this point on the caliph held no actual power but received a stipend and
retained some officials for his personal service.64
The Buyids of Iraq, however, had to contend with their relatives in other
regions, while in the north they competed with the Hamdanids. Thus, they
were frequently at war. Their standing army of Daylamite soldiers was not
sufficient for their military needs and they soon turned to the nearby
Bedouins. The second Buyid in Baghdad, ‘Izz al-Dawla Bakhtiyar (967–
978), brought in Shaybani and ‘Uqayli troops to fight the Hamdanids, and
enlisted some of the Asad tribe between Basra and Ahwaz, along with the
Kurdish ruler Hasanwayh Barzikani from Dinawar, northeast of
Kermanshah.65 Other nomads, sometimes from the same tribes, posed
a threat, with the Shayban and Kurds raiding from the north and various
sections of the B. Asad from the west and south. Buyid rule over Iraq was
loose and partial; they controlled only a few major cities. Villages and
nomad tribes collected protection money from the population, and within
the cities paramilitary organizations undertook similar activities.66
Stronger rule was introduced for a short time by ‘Adud al-Dawla (949–
983), the most powerful of the Buyid rulers, who took over Iraq in 977.
‘Adud al-Dawla was not content with the loose rule characteristic of most
of his family, and he had access to the resources of several provinces. He
62
W. Madelung, “Deylamites, ii, In the Islamic Period,” EIr, pp. 343–345.
63
T. Nagel, “Buyids,” EIr, pp. 578–579.
64
John J. Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty in Iraq 334 H./945 to 403 H./1012: Shaping
Institutions for the Future (Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 9–14, 17–27.
65
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, p. 220; Franz, Vom Beutezug, p. 149; Ch. Bürgel and
R. Mottahedeh, “‘Ażod al-Dawla,” EIr.
66
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, p. 80.
67
V. Minorsky, “Kurds, Kurdistā n, iii B: History: Islamic Period up to 1920,” EI 2nd ed.
68
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, pp. 80–85; Franz, Vom Beutezug, p. 149–151.
69
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, p. 217.
70
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, pp. 94–95, 104–105.
71
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, pp. 106, 223–227.
72
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 251–252.
73
Vom Beutezug, pp. 76, 171, 193; Canard, Histoire, pp. 614–615.
74
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 210; Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 315–327.
75
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 86–87.
76
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, pp. 221, 225; Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 250–253.
77
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, pp. 89, 22; Kennedy, The Prophet, pp. 262–266.
78
Paul A. Blaum, “A History of the Kurdish Marwanid Dynasty A.D. 983–1085, Part I,”
International Journal of Kurdish Studies 5, no. 1–2 (1992); “A History of the Kurdish
Marwanid Dynasty, A.D. 983–1085, Part II,” International Journal of Kurdish Studies 6,
no. 1–2 (1993).
79
C. E. Bosworth, “‘Ukaylids,” EI 2nd ed.; Kennedy, The Prophet, p. 297.
80
Hugh Kennedy, “The ˙ Uqaylids of Mosul: The Origins and Structure of a Nomad
Dynasty,” in Actas del XII congreso de la Union européenne d’arabisants et d’islamisants
(Málaga, 1984) (Madrid: Union Européenne d’Arabisants et d’Islamisants),
pp. 397–398.
81
Donohue, The Buwayhid Dynasty, pp. 221–222.
developed into a prosperous city, retaining the name Hilla. This was not
an easy region in which to retain power, but through astute and shifting
alliances the dynasty remained in place well into the Seljuqid period.82
In northern Syria, where the Hamdanid Sayf al-Dawla had held power,
nomad dynasties developed only a few years later. After Sayf al-Dawla’s
death in 967 the region became the frontier between Fatimids and
Byzantines, and the last of the Hamdanids held on to their territory as
vassals of one or the other. Not surprisingly, the gainers were the B. Kilab
tribe, who had benefitted from Sayf al-Dawla’s favor and now increased
their power through astute acts of diplomacy and treachery as the
Fatimids and Byzantines competed for control over pliant members of
the Hamdanid dynasty in Aleppo. Salih b. Mirdas of the B. Kilab, the
founder of the Mirdasid dynasty, is first mentioned as governor of Rahba
in 399/1009, when Aleppo was controlled by former slaves of the
Hamdanids. His tribe twice saved the Aleppan governors, first from
Marwanid and then from Fatimid armies, and naturally demanded rec-
ompense, in grants of pasture. The governor agreed, then invited the
tribesmen to a feast, where he captured and killed many of them. In
1014 Salih escaped, and some time later managed to take the city.
Aleppo proved a slippery prize, and neither Fatimids nor Mirdasids
were able to control it consistently, but the dynasty did hold several cities
in the region, up to Raqqa on the Euphrates, against both Byzantine and
local rivals.83
The Mirdasids shared power with another Bedouin dynasty, the
Numayrids. After the conspiracy against Sayf al-Dawla in 955 the
Numayr had been pushed east where they were allowed to consolidate
their power, useful as a shield against the Kurdish dynasties to the north.
When the Hamdanids of Aleppo collapsed, the B. Numayr began to issue
their own coinage and developed a court in Harran, east of Aleppo. At
first, they seem to have remained self-consciously nomadic, camping
outside the city; later they became at least partially settled and involved
in city life.84
The history of these dynasties is a tale of internal and external rivalries;
battles, raids and retaliation; the taking, losing and retaking of cities and
regions; treaties made, unmade and remade. It was undoubtedly a stirring
82
C. E. Bosworth, “Mazyad, Banū , or Mazyadids,” EI 2nd ed.
83
Th. Bianquis, S. Shamma, “Mirdā s,– Mirdā s b. Udayya,” EI 2nd ed.
84
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 136–146; Stefan Heidemann, “Numayrid ar-Raqqa:
Archaeological and Historical Evidence for a ‘Dimorphic State’ in the Bedouin
Dominated Fringes of the Fā timid Empire,” in Egypt and Syria in the Fatimid, Ayyubid
and Mamluk Eras. The 9th and˙ 10th International Colloquium at the Katholieke Universiteit
Leuven in May 2000 and May 2001, ed. U. Vermeulen and J. van Steenbergen (Leuven,
Belgium: Peeters, 2005), pp. 93–105.
life to live – at least for those who liked battle – but the telling becomes
complicated and confusing. The regions held by Bedouin dynasties
remained in flux partly because of pressure from outside powers: the
Fatimids who wanted to control northern Syria, the Byzantines who
were gaining ground in Armenia and along the Syrian coast, and the
Kurdish dynasties to the north and west. Most nomad dynasties recog-
nized the suzerainty of one or another of these powers, and sometimes
recognized two at once. Thus, local nomad dynasties were threatened by
outside powers, but not destroyed.
Most of the dynasties discussed here continued into the Seljuqid
period; each was fortunate to have at least one ruler with an exceptionally
long reign, and several of these overlapped in the early eleventh century.85
Although politics was never still, the reigns of these emirs encompassed
a period of renewed prosperity and development in the middle of
a difficult age. Their contributions went beyond the political sphere. As
Baghdad declined in power, scholars, writers and musicians sought
patronage at provincial courts, moving from one to another as their
favor or the fortunes of various rulers changed. Confusion, economic
decline and political fragmentation in fact added to the opportunities
open to men of literature and learning. The Buyid courts in Shiraz,
Rayy, Isfahan and Hamadan attracted major scholars.86 The court of
the Hamdanid Sayf al-Dawla at Aleppo was also known for its brilliance
in both scholarship and literature, with two of the greatest Arab poets of
the century – al-Mutanabbi and Abu’l Firas al-Hamdani – as members of
his entourage.87 Another great poet of the ‘Abbasid age, al-Ma‘arri, wrote
for and about the rulers of Aleppo, as the city was transferred from the
control of the Hamdanids to that of the Mirdasids, who continued the
court culture of Aleppo and the patronage of poetry.88 The Marwanid
dynasty is remembered for flourishing courts at Mayyafariqin and Amid,
where medicine, religious scholarship and literature were patronized.
85
The Marwanids rose to the peak of their power under Ibn Marwan, who ruled from
1011–1161. From 1001 to 1051 the ‘Uqaylids were ruled by Qirwash, whose reign
overlapped significantly with that of Nur al-Dawla Dubays of the Mazyadids (1018–
1081), and somewhat less with Thimal Mirdasi, who ruled (with interruptions) from
1041 to 1062.
86
Joel L. Kraemer, Humanism in the Renaissance of Islam: The Cultural Revival during the
Buyid Age (Leiden: Brill, 1986), pp. 28, 50–51, 53.
87
Kraemer, Humanism, pp. 90–91; A. Hamori, “al-Mutanabbı̄ ,” in ‘Abbasid belles-lettres,
ed. Julia Ashtiany, T. M. Johnstone, J. D. Latham, R. B. Sergent, and C. Rex Smith,
Cambridge History of Arabic Literature (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1990), pp. 300–01; Abdullah el-Tayib, “Abū Firā s al-Hamdā nı̄ ,” in ‘Abbasid
Belles-lettres, pp. 317–319. ˙
88
P. Smoor, “al-Ma‘arrı̄ ,” EI 2nd ed.; Suhayl Zakkā r, The Emirate of Aleppo, 1004–1094
(Beirut: Dar al-Amanah, 1971), pp. 263ff.
in settlement and building.92 Its two main cities, al-Raqqa and Harran,
were impoverished first due to their abandonment by the ‘Abbasid caliphs
who had occupied them, and then through over-taxation by the
Hamdanid rulers.93 Towards the end of the Numayrid dynasty, however,
al-Raqqa became a regular capital with dynastic buildings, and the
Numayrids showed an interest in developing it further.94 Several other
cities flourished and grew during this period. In Amid, both the
Hamdanids and the Marwanids undertook major building projects. The
Mazyadids embellished their capital Hilla with magnificent dwellings and
rich markets, which lasted through their reign and beyond.95 It appears
that both nomad dynasties and those that combined nomadic and seden-
tary lifestyles promoted cities when there was sufficient security and when
the region was one in which they were invested.
The tenth and eleventh centuries were a difficult period. There can be
no doubt that the population and the land suffered from the constant
warfare of the time. Scholars have concentrated on the trials of settled
populations, particularly the harm they suffered at the hands of Bedouin
raiders. The geographer Ibn Hawqal, who came from the Jazira and
described its situation during his lifetime, has been a useful source for
this school of thought, since he was inimical to the Hamdanid dynasty and
eloquent on the suffering of the region.96 However, though Ibn Hawqal’s
references to Bedouin are usually negative, the wrongs he lists were not
visited exclusively on the settled. In his lament for the fate of his own
hometown, Nasibin, he mentions the departure of the Taghlibid Banu
Habib and their neighbors, along with their families and their herds.
When the Hamdanid ruler Hasan took over, he cut down trees and
changed watercourses; he did this not to create pasture, but to plant
grain.97 New tribes came into the region and pushed out nomad and
semi-nomadic populations; when they demanded protection money from
the inhabitants, it is quite possible that they were replacing earlier nomads
who had done the same.98 One of Ibn Hawqal’s accusations against the
Hamdanids was their oppressive taxation, and here again it appears that
nomads suffered along with the settled population, since taxes on the sale
of livestock are among those frequently mentioned, and in some places,
the disappearance of nomads – at least their livestock – is given as an
92
Heidemann, “Numayrid ar-Raqqa.”
93
Stefan Heidemann, Die Renaissance der Städte in Nordsyrien und Nordmesopotamien:
städtische Entwicklung und wirtschaftliche Bedingungen in ar-Raqqa und Harrā n von der
˙
Zeit der beduinischen Vorherrschaft bis zu den Seldschuken (Leiden: Brill, 2002), pp. 29–31.
94
Franz, Vom Beutezug, pp. 143–144. 95 J. Lassner, “Hilla,” EI 2nd ed.
96 ˙
See, for instance, Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, pp. 173, 204, 215–216.
97 ˙
Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, pp. 205–208.
98 ˙
Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, pp. 204, 222–223.
˙
Conclusion
The Abbasids began as a centralizing power, but by the eleventh century
political power lay in the hands of regional dynasties. A significant num-
ber of these were founded by nomads or mountain peoples and from this
time on, the Middle East was never without nomad rulers. The rise of the
Fatimid dynasty in Egypt made the Syrian desert once again a borderland
between two competing powers, allowing its nomad inhabitants to enjoy
an independence which had been curtailed by the early caliphate. The
greater importance of northern regions, particularly Azerbaijan and the
Khorasan Road, added another set of actors. The Bedouin and other
Arab pastoralists who had been prominent in the Umayyad period were
now joined by Iranian peoples, notably Daylamites and Kurds.
The early caliphate, from the Rashidun to the early Abbasids, was
closer to the Bedouin but did not provide favorable conditions for polit-
ical development. The Bedouin were not excluded, but where they were
politically active, they were almost always under outside leadership. The
long decline of Abbasid power had a very different result, leading to the
political involvement of tribal peoples, first the Hamdanids and Buyids –
partly nomadic and mountain populations – and then the more fully
nomadic Bedouin and Kurds. Tribal leaders gained fuller authority over
their tribesmen and over the regions they inhabited as they were increas-
ingly called in to provide military service to one or another faction in local
contests. By the eleventh century they were able to take over the rule of
their areas. Much of the central territory of the caliphate was now under
the rule of Bedouins or Kurds, from Iraq to Azerbaijan, and across to
northern Syria.
Changes within the standing army were also striking; here what was
most important for the future was the introduction of Turkic soldiers as
skilled cavalry. Though they came in mostly as individuals, the Turks
were recognized for their nomadic background and skills, and they were
associated with the prestige of an imperial and warlike power. As they
began to serve as governors, and eventually as independent rulers, their
sphere expanded, both geographically and politically.
99
Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, pp. 208, 213, 220–221.
˙
Cultural developments of the Abbasid period were also important for the
future. The rise of Persian influence resulted not in an abandonment of the
Bedouin image, but in further elaboration of both tribal prestige and
Bedouin traits as an important marker of an Arab ruling class. The
emphasis on martial accomplishments associated with nomadism,
Spartan lifestyle, and peripheral origin brought idealized Arab traits close
to those associated with the Turks, “the Bedouin of the non-Arab.” All
these developments – the rise of nomad dynasties, the introduction of
Turks as a military class, and the idealized image of foreign rulers of
nomad origin – helped to prepare the way for a new stage in which nomads
from the eastern steppe invaded and took over the central Islamic lands.
In 1035 a few thousand ragged nomads crossed the Oxus into Khorasan
and wrote a letter to the governor requesting pasture in return for military
service. Within six years the Seljuqs had conquered eastern Iran and were
heading west to take over the central Middle East, from Transoxiana to
Anatolia. Historians recognize the Seljuq conquest as the beginning of
a new era in Islamic history. From the eleventh to fifteenth centuries most
of the Middle East was ruled by nomads from the Eurasian steppe. The
first to arrive were the Seljuqs, whose reign established a set of institutions
adapted by later nomad conquerors. The Seljuqs were Oghuz from
a western branch of the Turks, different in language and traditions from
the eastern Turks and Mongols who succeeded them. Their descendants
thus maintained a separate Turkic identity in the Middle East, coming to
be known as “Turkmen.”1
In this chapter we move our focus east, to Iran and its northeastern
frontier, an area suited to the animals of the steppe nomads – horses,
sheep, goats and Bactrian camels – which became the center of successive
nomad states. It has a landscape of mountains and high plateaus, com-
bining oasis agriculture dependent on irrigation with vertical pastoralism
in mountain and steppe. There were a number of nomad populations in
Iran before the arrival of the Seljuqs; in addition to the Kurds of north-
western Iran, mentioned in Chapter 3, there were Iranian and Arab
nomad groups in Fars, Kerman and Khorasan, combining sheep, goats
and horses with some camels and a few cattle. The nomads do not appear
to have utilized all the pastoral resources of the region, and the arrival of
the Seljuqs began a long period of growth in the nomad population of the
eastern Islamic world.
1
The term Turkmen was not used entirely consistently and seems to have changed its
meaning over time. At first it probably denoted the nomad Turks in the steppe who had
converted to Islam. Later, it was used for the Oghuz in the Middle East, particularly the
nomad followers of the Seljuqs. See A. C. S. Peacock, Early Seljū q History: A New
Interpretation (London: New York: Routledge, 2010), pp. 49–53.
81
The Seljuqs who entered Iran had a different tribal structure and
political tradition from those of the Kurds and Arab nomads we have
been discussing. Steppe nomads had a hierarchical society that allowed
significant authority to the tribal leadership, and many had been at least
peripherally involved with the steppe empires centered in Mongolia, most
recently the Türk Khaghanate. The khaghanate had also included terri-
tories and cities inhabited by Iranians, who had provided the khaghans
with many of their scribes. Thus, the Seljuqs arrived in the Middle East
with a tradition of state building and some knowledge of Iranian culture.
Entering through Transoxiana and eastern Iran, where Perso-Islamic
administrative practice was strongly developed, they picked up accom-
plished bureaucrats who accompanied them into central Iran. Their rule
created a powerful synthesis of Islamic, Turkic and Iranian political
cultures which remained in force until the modern era.
2
Golden, Introduction, pp. 194–199.
3
Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, pp. 428–430, 434–436.
˙
combined with pasture; Jurjan, Marw and Sarakhs were known for
camel raising and provided winter pasture for other livestock, while
the mountains near Nishapur and Khabushan had excellent summer
pastures.4 The eastern frontier was not quiet on either side, and the
populations of Transoxiana and Khorasan were known for their skill
in war. The Arabs began their conquest of Central Asia in the 660s,
and by the early eighth century had taken Transoxiana along with
several cities beyond the Jaxartes.5 By the eighth century Transoxiana
was part of the central Islamic lands. The Turks to the north were
soon acquainted with Islamic and Iranian culture. Trading towns on
the steppe border served as a conduit for Islam, and by the tenth
century Islam was spreading among both the Oghuz and the Qarluq.
Since most merchants came from the Iranian population, there was
a bilingual population of Iranians speaking Turkic along with Turks
familiar with Iranian languages.6
The relationship between the Iranians and Turks had begun earlier,
under the Türk Khaghanate. In the western regions of the khaghanate
a good proportion of the city and agricultural population was Iranian.
While the Ashina clan and the tribes attached to it were nomadic, scribes
and administrators were usually from the settled population, most often
Soghdians – an Iranian people centered in Samarqand with a strong
merchant class active along the Silk Road. Both Chinese sources and
funerary art indicate close interaction between Turkic and Iranian elites;
murals show the two peoples making treaties, hunting together and eating
at common banquets, with music, song and dance.7
The connection between Iranians and Turks is given expression in the
place that the Turks found for themselves within the Iranian epic trad-
ition, popularized in the medieval Middle East through the enormously
popular epic poem, the Shā hnā ma of the Persian poet Firdawsi (932–
1025). In both Turkic and Iranian traditions, the Turks became identified
as the descendants of the legendary nomad king Afrasiyab, the powerful
enemy of successive Iranian heroes. Among the Turks, Afrasiyab came to
be conflated with a legendary Turkic figure, Alp Er Tonga, whose heroic
4
Configuration, pp. 437–438; Gaube and Leisten, Die Kernländer des ‘Abbā sidenreiches im
10./11. Jh.: Materialien zur TAVO-Karte B VII 6, p. 158; Rashı̄ d al-Dı̄ n Ṭabı̄ b, The
History of the Seljuq Turks from the Jā mi‘ al-tawā rı̄ kh: an Ilkhanid adaptation of the
Saljū q-nā ma of Zahı̄ r al- Dı̄ n Nı̄ shā pū rı̄ , trans. Kenneth A. Luther (Richmond, Surrey:
Curzon, 2001),˙ pp. 518, 594, 598–599, 605, 609.
5
H. A. R. Gibb, The Arab Conquests in Central Asia (New York: AMS Press, 1970),
pp. 29–52.
6
Golden, Introduction, pp. 197–198, 212–213.
7
Golden, Introduction, pp. 190, 198; Stark, Die Altürkenzeit, pp. 289–314.
and untimely death had entered into folk poetry.8 It seems surprising that
the Turks should have embraced a connection to the great villain of
Iranian tradition; however, Afrasiyab was of kingly blood – related to
the Iranian kings – and Iranian epics contain a few favorable stories
about him, some of which may reflect originally Turkic traditions.9
Furthermore, according to legend, the family of Afrasiyab had intermar-
ried with the Iranian dynasty and the exemplary king Kay Khusraw was
descended from him on his mother’s side.10 By the time the Turks
entered the central Islamic lands, therefore, they and the Iranian popula-
tions of Central Asia had a long shared history and tradition.
In the ninth century, Muslim regional dynasties began to arise in
eastern Iran and Transoxiana. One of most influential of these was the
Samanid dynasty (819–1005), who were appointed as governors over
several cities by the caliph al-Ma’mun (813–833), and who became
wealthy through eastern and northern trade, particularly the sale of the
Turkic military slaves then coming into fashion. In 875 the Samanid
family gained caliphal recognition as governors of the whole of
Transoxiana and became essentially independent rulers over
Transoxiana, Khorezm, and Khorasan, a realm which they held until
999. They enjoyed a subsidiary source of manpower in religious volun-
teers eager to gain blessing by fighting the infidels, following the tradition
established on the Byzantine frontier.11 Like the Arabs, the Samanids
were active campaigners; they soon extended their rule beyond the
Jaxartes, to Otrar, Isfijab and Taraz along with most of the Ferghana
Valley – thus well into Turkic and nomad territory.12 These campaigns
are often portrayed as a response to Turkish raids, but given the
Samanids’ expansionist policies and the value of captured Turks, we
should not characterize all of their border warfare as defense.13
8
Louis Bazin, “Que était Alp Er Tonga, identifié à Afrâsyâb,” in Pand-o Sokhan. Mélanges
offerts à Charles-Henri de Fouchécour, ed. Claire Kappler, Christophe Balaÿ, Ziva Vesel
(Tehran: Institut français de Recherche en Iran, 1995).
9
Mahmū d al-Kā shgharı̄ , Compendium of the Turkic Dialects, trans. Robert Dankoff and
James˙ Kelly, vol. 1, Sources of Oriental Languages and Literatures (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University, 1982), pp. 92, 189; E. Yarshater, “Afrā sı̄ ā b,” in EIr.
10
Dick Davis, “Iran and Aniran: The Shaping of a Legend,” in Iran Facing Others: Identity
Boundaries in a Historical Perspective, ed. Abbas Amanat and Farzin Vejdani (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), pp. 39–40.
11
Jürgen Paul, The State and the Military: The Samanid Case (Bloomington: Indiana
University Research Institute for Inner Asian Studies, 1994), pp. 11–23; Golden,
Introduction, p. 190; D. G. Tor, Violent Order: Religious Warfare, Chivalry, and the ‘ayyā r
Phenomenon in the Medieval Islamic World (Würzburg: Ergon, 2007), pp. 66–67, 211–215.
12
Minorsky, Bartol’d, and Bosworth, Hudū d, pp. 118–119; S. G. Kliashtorny, “Les
Samanids et les Karakhanides: une étape ˙ initiale de la géopolitique impériale,” Cahiers
d’Asie Centrale 9, Études Karakhanides (2001), pp. 38–40.
13
Golden, Introduction, pp. 193.
17
“The Karakhanids,” pp. 123–125; Boris D. Kochnev, “Les frontières du royaume des
Karakhanides,” Cahiers d’Asie Centrale 9 (2001), p. 42.
18
Jürgen Paul, “Nouvelles pistes pour la recherche sur l’histoire de l’Asie centrale à l’
époque karakhanide (Xe–début XIIIe siècle),” Cahiers d’Asie Centrale 9 (2001), pp.
23–24; Yū suf Khā ss Hā jib, Wisdom of Royal Glory: A Turko-Islamic Mirror for Princes,
˙ ˙ ˙ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983), “Introduction,”
trans. Robert Dankoff
pp. 1–4; Ahmet B. Ercilasun, “Language and Literature in the Early Muslim Turkish
States,” in The Turks, ed. C. Cem Oğ uz, Hasan Celâl Güzel, Osman Karatay (Ankara:
Yeni Türkiye Publications, 2002), pp. 349–353.
19
Ercilasun, “Language,” pp. 352, 362–364.
20
Davidovich, “The Karakhanids,” pp. 123, 132; Paul, “Karakhanids,” pp. 73, 75;
Valentina D. Goriacheva, “À propos des deux capitales du khaghanat karakhanide,”
Cahiers d’Asie Centrale 9 (2001), p. 91; Yuri Karev, “From Tents to City. The Royal
Court of the Western Qarakhanids between Bukhara and Samarqand,” in Turko-Mongol
Rulers, Cities and City Life, ed. David Durand-Guédy (Leiden: Brill, 2013).
21
Davidovich, “The Karakhanids,” pp. 130, 133.
22
Baypakov, “La culture urbaine,” pp. 144–148, 151–157, 161–162; Michal Biran,
“Qarakhanid Studies: A View from the Qara Khitai Edge,” Cahiers d’Asie Centrale 9
(2001), pp. 78–83.
23
Clifford Edmund Bosworth, The Ghaznavids: Their Empire in Afghanistan and Eastern
Iran 994:1040, 2nd ed. (Beirut: Librairie du Liban, 1973), pp. 37–40.
24
Bosworth, Ghaznavids, pp. 40, 56.
25
Peacock, Early Seljū q, pp. 17–20; Golden, Introduction, p. 207.
26
Baypakov, “La culture urbaine,” p. 143; Ibn Hawqal, Configuration, p. 437; Minorsky,
Bartol’d, and Bosworth, Hudū d, p. 119. ˙
˙
27
Andrew C. S. Peacock, The Great Seljuk Empire (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press,
2015), pp. 24–27; Jürgen Paul, “The Role of Ḫ wā razm in Seluq Central Asian Politics,
Victories and Defeats: Two Case Studies,” Eurasian Studies VII (2007–2008), pp. 6–8.
28
Peacock, Early Seljū q, pp. 64–66; Peacock, Great Seljuk, pp. 28–32.
29
Ann K. S. Lambton, Continuity and Change in Medieval Persia: Aspects of Administrative,
Economic, and Social History, 11th–14th century (Albany, NY: Bibliotheca Persica, 1988),
p. 6; Claude Cahen, “Le Malik-nameh et l’histoire des origines seljukides,” Oriens 2
(1949), p. 63.
30
Bosworth, Ghaznavids, pp. 86–88. 31 Bosworth, Ghaznavids, p. 224.
and a few moved west to serve regional rulers in Iran. In 1033 to 1034 the
Ghaznavids vented their anger on the nomads. They summoned leaders
to Nishapur and executed about fifty of them, including the commander
who had earlier served Mas‘ud. When the survivors moved towards Rayy
and continued their depredations, Mas‘ud – who had succeeded his
father on the throne in 1030– captured their camps and moved their
followers to India, where he killed many by cutting off their hands and
feet and then gibbeting them. Oghuz men captured raiding on the
Karakhanid border were thrown under the feet of elephants and
trampled.32
The Oghuz who had remained in Transoxiana under Seljuq’s grand-
sons Toghril and Chaghri had a somewhat better time of it. For a while
they continued to serve ‘Ali Tegin, but towards the end of his life they
apparently quarreled with him. In 1035 they crossed the Oxus into
Ghaznavid territories with 7,000 to 10,000 followers, moving into the
region of Nasa in northwestern Khorasan. From there they wrote to the
Ghaznavid governor offering their services as border troops in return for
pasture.33 These men were to some extent professional soldiers, and
when they came into Khorasan they were probably looking for
a situation similar to the one they had left.
The Ghaznavids had been fighting the earlier Oghuz for two years and
they greeted the new arrivals with frank hostility. The request for pasture
was summarily refused and Mas‘ud moved against them. The armies met
near Nasa in June or July and the Ghaznavid army suffered a severe
defeat. The Seljuqs now achieved recognition as governors of the border
region from Marw and Sarakhs to the Caspian. Troubles continued,
however. According to a tradition originating from the Seljuqids, Sultan
Mas‘ud acted insultingly against the Seljuqid leaders and did not honor
his promise to give freedom to their uncle Arslan. The Seljuqs continued
to raid and were joined by new contingents of Oghuz from the steppe.34
Events now moved with remarkable speed. The Seljuqs needed live-
stock and acquired it by raiding. The lands allotted them were not suffi-
cient, and the Ghaznavids had no desire to give them more or to employ
32
‘Izz al- Dı̄ n Ibn al-Athı̄ r, The Annals of the Saljuq Turks: Selections from al-Kā mil fı̄ ’l-Ta’rı̄ kh
of ‘Izz al-Dı̄ n Ibn al-Athı̄ r, trans. D. S. Richards (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2002),
pp. 14–15; Bosworth, Ghaznavids, p. 224–225; Abū ’l Fadl Muhammad Bayhaqı̄ , The
History of Beyhaqi (The History of Sultan Mas‘ud of Ghazna, ˙ ˙ 1030–1041), trans.
C. Edmund Bosworth, 3 vols. (Cambridge, MA and Washington, DC: Ilex
Foundation and Center for Hellenic Studies, 2011), vol. 2, pp. 94–96.
33
Cahen, “Malik-nameh,” pp. 53–54; Peacock, Great Seljuk, pp. 33–35.
34
Abū ’l Fadl Muhammad Bayhaqı̄ , Tā rı̄ kh-i Bayhaqı̄ , ed. Manū chihr Dā nishpazhū h
(Tehran: ˙Intisha˙̄ rā t-i Hı̄ rmand, 1997–1998), pp. 708, 730, 750; Cahen, “Malik-
nameh,” pp. 59–60; Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 35–36.
them as soldiers. The Ghaznavid policy was to punish the Seljuqs, contain
them, or push them back, but these tactics could not work against a group
which had insufficient sources of livelihood and no place to return to. In
battles between the Ghaznavids and the Seljuqs, victory went sometimes
to one side and sometimes to another, and as they realized that the
Ghaznavids could not decisively defeat them, Toghril and Chaghri set
their sights on the larger cities.35
In 1036–1037 they took Marw and Balkh, and in 1037 or 1038,
Nishapur opened its gates without resistance.36 We have a vivid descrip-
tion of this event, which illustrates Toghril’s tactics and the state of his
troops. Toghril’s relative Ibrahim Inal first approached the city with about
200 men and sent in a messenger. The notables decided to submit, but
when they came out to escort Ibrahim into the city they were appalled at
the ragged appearance of his troops. This was a major city, used to having
rulers of power and magnificence. The crowd watching the Seljuq entry
was likewise taken aback, comparing the ragged Seljuq troops with the
imposing Ghaznavid armies. Two days later Ibrahim read the congrega-
tional prayer in the name of Toghril, and despite his wearing better
clothes, riots broke out. The situation improved when Toghril arrived
about ten days later attired in fine silk and linen and accompanied by
3,000 horsemen in armor. He seated himself on the sultan’s throne and
the few members of the mob still present remained orderly.37
After the fall of Nishapur, Sultan Mas‘ud brought a Ghaznavid army
north and the Seljuqs abandoned the cities to take refuge in the steppes
and mountains. However, the region could not support the Ghaznavid
army, and while the Oghuz could often be defeated, they could not be
eliminated. In May 1040 the full Seljuq force met the Ghaznavid army at
Dandanaqan near Marw, and the Seljuqs won a decisive victory. The
Seljuq brothers sent an emissary to the Abbasid caliph with news of their
victory and from this time increasingly presented themselves as rightful
rulers.38
The Ghaznavid historian Bayhaqi, who has left us the fullest account of
the Seljuqid conquest, blamed the loss of Khorasan on Sultan Mas‘ud’s
failure to act decisively. However, it is hard to see how more military
35
Bosworth, Ghaznavids, pp. 242–244, 249; Cahen, “Malik-nameh,” pp. 60–61;
Erdoğ an Merçil, “History of the Great Seljuk Empire,” in The Turks, ed. C. Cem
Oguz, Hasan Celâl Güzel, Osman Karatay (Ankara: Yeni Türkiye Publications, 2002),
p. 149.
36
For the question of the date, see Peacock, Great Seljuk, p. 39.
37
Bosworth, Ghaznavids, pp. 254–257.
38
C. E. Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History of the Iranian World (A.D. 1000–
1217),” in Cambridge History of Iran, ed. J. A. Boyle (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1968), p. 23.
several rulers, and this structure did not change as their power increased.
After the victory in Dandanaqan Chaghri went to Balkh and the neigh-
boring region of Tukharistan, Toghril to Nishapur, and Musa Yabghu
with Ibrahim Inal to Marw.44
Toghril held the westernmost territories, and he had a major asset in
the services of Ibrahim Inal, an exceptionally competent commander and
administrator. Toghril stands out as an organizer who was capable as
a commander but perhaps even more gifted in utilizing the efforts of
others. When he began to campaign to the west he was following in the
footsteps of the “Iraqi” Oghuz, who had taken Rayy. Toghril’s first
expedition was probably an attempt to bring them under control and to
take Rayy, which provided both pasture and access to western Iran. He
sent Ibrahim Inal ahead and many of the Oghuz fled into the regions of
Diyar Bakr and Mosul.45 Further expansion in the west continued in the
same way, with Toghril sometimes undertaking campaigns on his own
and more frequently entrusting them to other commanders, among
whom Ibrahim Inal continued prominent.46 As he moved into central
Iran, Toghril expanded his power by joining local power struggles, lend-
ing out Seljuq contingents to allies. Kurdish and Turkmen contingents
were often found within the same armies, sometimes under Seljuq com-
mand, and sometimes under Kurdish leaders.47 The Iraqi Oghuz con-
tinued to campaign in western regions, joined by new Oghuz groups
coming in from the steppe. Toghril made use of the confusion they
caused, taking advantage of their conquests without accepting full
responsibility for their actions.48
There were, however, disadvantages to the division of authority with
which the Seljuqs furthered their conquests. Military commanders, Iraqi
Oghuz, and junior members of the dynasty made separate alliances with
local powers and felt ownership in areas they had conquered. Indeed, it
was not always clear for whom regions were being taken. In Hulwan on
the Iraq-Kurdistan border for instance, the khutba was read in the name of
˙
Ibrahim Inal, and the one surviving coin struck by Ibrahim contains
symbols denoting sovereignty. It is hardly surprising to find Toghril
49
44
Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” pp. 21–22. For a chart of the relationships, see
Peacock, Great Seljuk, p. 53.
45
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 15–20. 46 Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 49–52, 58.
47
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 58–60, 63–65, 87, 90.
48
Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” p. 42; Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 19–20, 21–23, 50;
Ripper, Die Marwā niden, p. 188.
49
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, p. 61; Peacock, Early Seljū q, p. 68.
Jibal; Ibrahim refused, and Toghril had to subdue him with force.50
Ibrahim’s actions were not thought to merit serious punishment and he
continued to be prominent.
For about fifteen years Toghril suffered only minor setbacks. However,
the situation changed when he seized what appeared to be his greatest
opportunity and took Baghdad from the Buyids. The Seljuq advance had
brought disorder to Iraq and the Jazira. Bands of Kurdish and Arab
brigands were pillaging the countryside, while the Bedouin ‘Uqaylid,
Khafaja and Mazyadid dynasties, discussed in Chapter 3, fought in
support of one or another local faction. Within Baghdad, tensions
between Sunni and Shi‘i added to the disorder and the Turkish slave
soldiery began to riot. At the end of 1055 the caliph invited Toghril to
enter Baghdad, agreeing to include his name in the khutba.51 This event
˙
raised Toghril’s personal status but his involvement in the area precipi-
tated a crisis that nearly cost him his rule. Toghril’s troops were attacked
by the population of Baghdad, and they repaid the insult with interest.
The atmosphere of the city, already poisonous, worsened. After a few
days Toghril tried to prevent his troops from looting, but they continued
their destruction and eventually he forced some of his Oghuz followers to
leave. The thirteen months that he and his army spent in Iraq were
disastrous not only for the population but for the Turkmen army as well
and caused serious disaffection within it.52
The Buyid commander of Baghdad, al-Basasiri, had taken refuge in the
Jazira and taken Mosul. Toghril could not afford to lose the Jazira and he
set out to retake it. By the end of the year the province was again under
Seljuqid suzerainty, Ibrahim Inal was appointed to Mosul, and in
January 1058, Toghril met the caliph and was crowned “king of east
and west.” However, Toghril was losing support among his followers.
In order to hold Iraq and neighboring regions he had given high positions
to a number of local rulers: the Mazyadid Dubays, Quraysh of the
‘Uqaylids, and the Khuzistani emir Hazarasp b. Bankir. Ibrahim Inal
and other relatives were openly angry over the favor shown to Arab
rulers.53 Within a few months Ibrahim was in open revolt and had won
over a number of Toghril’s soldiers. Toghril called on Chaghri’s sons for
help and together they defeated Ibrahim in July 1059; this time he was put
50
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, p. 73.
51
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 91–92, 98; Peacock, Great Seljuk, pp. 49–50; M. Canard, “al-
Basā sı̄ rı̄ ,” EI 2nd. ed.
52
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, 100–107; Lambton, Continuity and Change, p. 165; Peacock, Early
Seljū q, pp. 96–97.
53
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 108–112, 114; M. Canard, “al-Basā sı̄ rı̄ ,” EI 2nd ed.
to death along with his closest allies.54 Once Ibrahim Inal had been
defeated, Toghril was able to pursue his goal of a marriage alliance with
the caliph, which he achieved just before his death on 4 September 1063.
54
Annals, pp. 118, 124; Ibrahim Kafesoğ lu, A History of the Seljuks: Ibrahim Kafesoğ lu’s
Interpretation and the Resulting Controversy, trans. Gary Leiser (Carbondale: Southern
Illinois University Press, 1988), p. 44; Peacock, Great Seljuk, p. 51.
55
C. E. Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” pp. 43–45; Cahen, “The Turkish Invasion,”
pp. 143–145.
What does emerge from the narrative suggests two competing needs
common to both settled and nomad leaders: the army had to be supplied,
while the central area of power had to be preserved from harm. On the first
conquest of Nishapur, Toghril reportedly ordered Chaghri and Ibrahim Inal
to prevent looting, while Chaghri argued in favor of it. Nishapur was the
central city of Toghril’s allotted territory, and when Chaghri returned to his
own center, Marw, he forbade pillage and began to restore agriculture.56
During the difficult campaign in Kurdistan, Ibrahim Inal allowed his troops
to pillage, but in 1057, when he was appointed governor of Mosul, he
immediately forbade the practice. This was shortly before the revolt he led
against Toghril, supposedly in support of the Oghuz tradition of plunder.57
Toghril, campaigning in the Jazira a few months earlier, had an army which
had suffered months of privation in Iraq. On his way north against al-
Basasiri, Toghril allowed plunder both along the way and in the region of
Mosul. He had no choice, he said, because his troops were hungry.58
We should not view Oghuz troops as nomads whose depredations came
from nomad tradition. These men had spent years serving as auxiliaries,
and such troops – nomad or not – were rewarded largely with booty. This
usage had begun early in Islamic history and was not limited to the Middle
East.59 It was standard to allow at least a day of looting in a newly taken
city. The question was how much to allow, and how to keep troops
faithful and under control without destroying the lands being conquered.
We should note that while plundering by Seljuq troops decreased under
the reigns of Alp Arslan and Malik Shah when the army was more
efficiently paid, it increased again later when order broke down and
contestants could no longer afford to pay and feed their armies.60 We
should likewise recognize that Seljuq campaigns in nomad territories such
as Kurdistan were sometimes more destructive than those in urban and
agricultural regions, perhaps because they were competing for the same
resources – pasture and livestock.61
Toghril has also been credited with beginning to replace the Turkmen
in his army with mamluks, which were seen as more disciplined and
56
Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” pp. 20–21; Bosworth, Ghaznavids, p. 244.
57
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 58–65, 112.
58
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 102, 107–109; Gregory Bar Hebraeus, The Chronography of
Gregory Abû’l Faraj, the Son of Aaron, the Hebrew Physician, Commonly Known as Bar
Hebraeus: Being the First Part of His Political History of the World, trans. E. A. Wallis Budge,
2 vols. (London: Oxford University Press 1932), vol. I, pp. 209–210, 213.
59
For an example from the same period, see Julie Scott Meisami, Persian Historiography to
the End of the Twelfth Century (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1999), pp. 96–98.
60
David Durand-Guédy, Iranian Elites and Turkish Rulers: A History of Isfahā n in the Saljū q
Period (London; New York: Routledge, 2010), pp. 213–216. ˙
61
Durand-Guédy, Iranian Elites, p. 68.
reliable. Current scholars, however, suggest that Toghril and his succes-
sor Alp Arslan continued to value Turkmen troops and did not attempt to
deny their close relationship to the dynasty. Although both added some
mamluks to the army, the Turkmen remained in the majority throughout
their reigns, and their support was thus crucial for the dynasty.62
65
K. A. Luther, “Alp Arslā n,” EIr.
66
Heidemann, Die Renaissance, pp. 103–125; Ripper, Die Marwā niden, pp. 192–195.
67
Paul A. Blaum, “Children of the Arrow: The Strange Saga of the Iraqi Turkmens,” The
International Journal of Kurdish Studies 15, no. 1–2 (2001), pp. 155–158; Luther, “Alp
Arslā n,” EIr.
68
Ripper, Die Marwā niden, 195–202; Luther, “Alp Arslā n,” EIr.
69
Peacock, Early Seljū q, pp. 143–150. 70 Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” p. 88–89.
71
Durand-Guédy, Iranian Elites, pp. 78–79.
72
Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” pp. 88, 99.
While Malik Shah’s reign saw the growth of the standing army and the
incorporation of new territories, it also witnessed the rise of powerful inde-
pendent emirs, many of them Turkmen. Although the Oghuz had ceased to
make up the bulk of the central army, they had not lost their military import-
ance. New Turkmen groups had continued to migrate into the central
Islamic region, and by this time they constituted a significant proportion of
the nomad population of Seljuqid lands, particularly in the pastures stretch-
ing across the northern regions. Turkmen occupied pasturelands stretching
across the northern Middle East. There were populations in the regions of
Balkh, through northern Khorasan to Marw, the desert and steppe regions
from Marw and Sarakhs to the eastern Caspian shore, in Jurjan, and what is
now Kurdistan, from Hamadan through northern Jazira.73 Many moved
west to Azerbaijan and Armenia, which offered both excellent pasture and
the opportunity to attack Christian territories. In this region the Turkmen
soon began to displace the Kurdish nomads who had earlier dominated, and
by the end of the Seljuqid period, Azerbaijan had begun a process of
Turkification.74 Nomads continued to migrate into Anatolia, where they
soon became an important presence as the Byzantines lost territory.
During Malik Shah’s reign emirs increased their power as Azerbaijan,
Syria and the Jazira became increasingly independent. Some military
commanders – both mamluk and Turkmen – achieved significant auton-
omy and greater power within the state, especially in border regions.
Malik Shah’s method of expansion worked to the advantage of ambitious
emirs. In 1086 he undertook a major campaign in Georgia and
Azerbaijan, then in the Jazira and into northern Syria.75 From this period
also he began to appoint Seljuqid officials over the major cities of the
Jazira. The ‘Uqaylids lost much of their land, and some dynasties, like the
Marwanids, were eliminated. A significant portion of the actual fighting
in Malik Shah’s expansion was undertaken by local commanders with the
help of Seljuqid troops, many of them Turkmen.76 Central Syria and
Anatolia were likewise taken over by princes and commanders who were
at best marginally under central authority.77
73
Ann K. S. Lambton, “The Internal Structure of the Saljuq Empire,” in The Cambridge
History of Iran, ed. J. A. Boyle (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), p. 246;
David Durand-Guédy, “The Türkmen-Saljū q Relationship in Twelfth-Century Iran:
New Elements Based on a Contrastive Analysis of Three inšā ’documents,” Eurasian
Studies IX, no. 1–2 (2011).
74
Ripper, Die Marwā niden, pp. 268; C. E. Bosworth, “Azerbaijan IV: Islamic History to
1941,” EIr.
75
C. E. Bosworth, “Malik-Shā h,”EI 2nd ed; Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” p. 98.
76
Heidemann, Die Renaissance, pp. 132–138; Ripper, Die Marwā niden, pp. 222–238.
77
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 172, 190, 192–193, 197; Merçil, “History,” p. 159.
In Anatolia the main actors were two sons of Qutalmish, Sulayman and
Mansur, who profited from disarray within the Byzantine state to gather
territory in western Anatolia and aimed for independence. Malikshah sent
an army which killed Mansur but did not subdue Sulayman, who adopted
the title of sultan. After Sulayman’s death in 1086 Anatolia remained
under the control of his sons and local Turkmen.78 By the end of Malik
Shah’s reign, emirs had become a major force, many with troops and
territory.
not surprising to find that several Seljuqid successor states were founded
by atabegs.82 In the 1140s both Fars and Azerbaijan became essentially
independent under atabegs: Fars under the Turkmen Salghurids, and
Azerbaijan under the Eldigüzids, were founded by a mamluk emir.
86
A. C. S. Peacock, “Court and Nomadic Life in Saljuq Anatolia,” in Turko-Mongol Rulers,
Cities and City Life, ed. David Durand-Guédy (Leiden: Brill, 2013).
offices underlining the separate identity of the dynasty and its military
servitors. This system remained in place for centuries and became
a marker of successive nomad conquest dynasties. In the Islamic world
the separation of ethnic spheres was seen as natural and indeed necessary
for two reasons: First, Turks were seen as superior fighters and military
might was necessary for the maintenance of order; second, a ruler coming
from outside could remain impartial towards the factions of the society he
ruled, while a ruler from the local population would favor one side.87
In Seljuqid government as it actually functioned, the distinction
between Turk and Persian, civil and military, was less stark.
Theoretically, the sultan was head of the army, the vizier headed the
bureaucracy, and a high official maintained communication between
the two spheres. However, since the vizier handled financial affairs, the
offices responsible for the recruitment, payment and equipment of the
standing army came under his jurisdiction. Furthermore, most viziers had
their own military followings and participated in campaigns. The viziers
of the early sultans, al-Kunduri and Nizam al-Mulk, had slave armies
large enough to provide significant military force.88 The more powerful
emirs within the army sometimes had their own dı̄ wā ns and could thus
wield power in the civil administration. As with most pre-modern gov-
ernments, the prerogatives of a given office depended largely on the
person holding it.
Despite their Islamic legitimation, the Seljuqs did not totally abandon
their steppe identity. Alp Arslan showed the importance of the Central
Asian heritage of the dynasty in his early campaign into Transoxiana,
where he elicited expressions of submission from neighboring Turkmens
and Qipchaqs and visited the grave of his ancestor Seljuq b. Duqaq in
Jand. He also married his heir apparent, Malik Shah, to a Qarakhanid
princess.89 The dynasty retained some institutions and customs from its
steppe past and from its period of service with the Qarakhanids. The
Oghuz appear to have preserved the oral tradition connecting the royal
house with the figure of a wolf, the mythical progenitor of the Türk
Khaghans. Some of the iconography used in documents and coins went
back to steppe imperial traditions. At the head of official documents, the
87
Carole Hillenbrand, “Islamic Orthodoxy or Realpolitik? Al-Ghazā lı̄ ’s Views on
Government,” Iran 26 (1988), pp. 83–84; Roy P. Mottahedeh, Loyalty and Leadership in
an Early Islamic Society (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1980), pp. 177–179.
88
Lambton, “Internal Structure,” pp. 257–264; Carla L. Klausner, The Seljuk Vezirate:
A Study of Civil Administration, 1055–1194 (Cambridge, MA: Distributed for the Center
for Middle Eastern Studies of Harvard University by Harvard University Press, 1973),
pp. 39–41, 58.
89
Luther, “Alp Arslā n,” EIr.
Seljuqs placed the emblem of the sultan or toghra, which in the early
period was the image of a bow and arrow and mace. From the Seljuqs this
practice spread to other dynasties, developing gradually into a calligraphic
exercise best known from the Ottoman Empire. The bow and arrow also
appeared on Seljuqid coins, as it did in Qarakhanid coinage.90 Like the
early Qarakhanids, Seljuq rulers usually camped in tents among the army
outside the city while at the same time sponsoring construction within it.
This began with Toghril, who underwrote major building projects in
Rayy, Baghdad and Isfahan, but lived in camp outside.91
In social habits, the dynasty retained its Turkish traditions for some
time. At the time of Toghril’s marriage to the daughter of the caliph he
and his emirs sang to Turkish music and danced in the Turkish fashion,
going down on their knees and rising again, and the spoken language of
the court remained Turkish.92 Despite their enthusiasm for correct
Islamic observance, the early sultans continued the levirate: the practice
of marrying widows of one’s brother or father (excepting one’s own
mother), a habit contrary to Islamic law.93 The Seljuq sultans spent
much of their time feasting, drinking and hunting, all of which accorded
with Turkic custom, but these pastimes also conformed to the royal
practice of other courts in the central Islamic lands (and indeed
elsewhere).94
One of the steppe traits shown by the Seljuq dynasty was the prestige
and power accorded to dynastic women, and the Turks continued to give
high status to women after their arrival in the Middle East. Marriage
alliances were an important part of politics; the Seljuqs intermarried
with many of the surrounding and vassal powers.95 Although women
moved to their husband’s family when they married, royal women
retained the prestige attached to their birth and passed it on to their
children. Many had their own landed estates, grants of tax revenue
90
Peacock, Great Seljuk, pp. 126–129.
91
David Durand-Guédy, “Ruling from the Outside: A New Perspective on Early Turkish
Kingship in Iran,” in Every Inch a King: Comparative Studies on Kings and Kingship in the
Ancient and Medieval Worlds, ed. Lynette Mitchell and Charles Melville (Leiden: Brill,
2013); Iranian Elites, p. 90; Kafesoğ lu, History of the Seljuks, p. 39; Merçil, “History,”
p. 153.
92
Faruk Sümer, Oğ uzlar (Türkmenler): tarihleri, boy teşkilatı, destanları, 4. baskı. ed.
(Istanbul: Türk Dünyası Araştırmaları Vakfı, 1999), pp. 121, 126; Bar Hebraeus,
Chronography, vol. I, p. 215.
93
Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” p. 79; Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, p. 129.
94
Peacock, Great Seljuk, pp. 172–177.
95
Cahen, “Malik-nameh,” p. 54; Heidemann, Die Renaissance, p. 293; Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals,
p. 155; Carole Hillenbrand, “Women in the Seljuq Period,” in Women in Iran from the
Rise of Islam to 1800, ed. Guity Nashat and Lois Beck (Urbana and Chicago: University of
Illinois Press, 2003), p. 108.
96
Lambton, Continuity and Change, pp. 35, 110, 259.
97 98
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, pp. 266–267. Peacock, Great Seljuk, p. 179.
99
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, p. 262; Nizā m al-Mulk, The Book of Government: or, Rules for Kings:
˙
the Siyar al-muluk or Siyasat-nama of Nizam al-Mulk, trans. Hubert Darke, 2nd ed.
(London; Boston: Routledge & K. Paul, 1978), pp. 179–186.
100
al-Kā shgharı̄ , Compendium of the Turkic Dialects 1, pp. 101–102.
After the migration into the Middle East, first the Iraqi Oghuz and later
a variety of emirs acted largely independently, but no tribal names are
attached to such groups until the twelfth century.101 Two decrees issued by
Sultan Sanjar in the twelfth century mention Turkmen leaders but give
them the same titles accorded to regular regional officials, and make no use
of the standard words for tribes or clans in describing their subdivisions.102
Andrew Peacock has suggested that tribes may not have been important
within the Oghuz and that al-Kashghari, who wrote in Baghdad about
1077, might have exaggerated the importance of tribes in an attempt to
make the Seljuqs appear more like Arabs, and thus more legitimate.103
It is also possible, as suggested above, that the Seljuqs who entered the
Middle East were leaders of armies based not on tribes but on personal
followings, thus outside the tribal system. Later, in the twelfth century,
a number of Turkmen tribes listed in al-Kashghari did become active: the
Salghur in Fars, the Iva’i in Armenia and the Jazira, and the Afshar in
Khuzistan are all clearly attested. It is possible that tribes or sections of
tribes came into the region during the migrations of the twelfth century;
another possible explanation is that as central control broke down, tribal
organization developed more strongly.104 The question has not been
thoroughly investigated, and the paucity of detailed sources may make it
impossible to find a full explanation.
Throughout their rule, Seljuqid sultans considered the Turkmen as
their kin, placing high value on their services and on their economic
contribution. The Seljuqid rulers did not distance themselves from the
Turkmen or attempt usually to keep them away from cities.105 Both
before and during the Seljuqid period, livestock products are mentioned
for several regions with nomad populations; these were among the trade
goods contributing to the wealth of towns.106 Trade expanded under the
Seljuqs and was an important part of the economy promoted by the
dynasty, and the camels provided by the Turkmen were important to
this effort.107Most scholars suggest that the Seljuqid period was one of
general prosperity, and the regions in which Turkmens were concentrated
flourished at least until the disturbances at the end of the dynasty.108
101
Claude Cahen, “Les tribus turques d’Asie Occidentale pendant la période seljukide,”
Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 51, no. 1–2 (1948).
102
Durand-Guédy, “Türkmen-Saljū q Relationship,” p. 29.
103
Peacock, Great Seljuk, p. 28. 104 Cahen, “Les tribus.”
105
Peacock, “Court”; Durand-Guédy, “Türkmen-Saljū q Relationship.”
106
Lambton, “Aspects of Saljū q-Ghuzz Settlement in Persia,” pp. 116–117, 122–123.
107
Peacock, Great Seljuk, pp. 297–302; Durand-Guédy, “Türkmen-Saljū q
Relationship,” p. 37.
108
Heidemann, Die Renaissance, pp. 145–146, 150–153; Lambton, Continuity and Change,
pp. 158–160, 169.
Nomads were considered part of the general population and were taxed
accordingly; the pasture tax was considered one of the basic, canonical
taxes. Oghuz and others also paid dues to support local officials, some of
which went to the central government. When the state was in need, they
suffered from higher taxes along with the rest of the population.109 Our
most detailed information on the position of the Turkmen comes from
two decrees appointing officials to Turkmen groups in the period of
Sanjar, mentioned above. Although the military role is referred to in
these documents, the terms used for the Turkmen are those commonly
applied to peasants as well: ra‘aya and khalq. Their economic contribu-
tion to the realm is mentioned, and while they are seen as a potential
threat to the government they are also portrayed as vulnerable to abuse.
An official appointed by the government was responsible for allotting
pasture and water sources, and it appears that such officials might have
been Turkmen.110
Although Turkic slave soldiers are often discussed in contrast to the
Oghuz, both Turkmen and mamluks were often referred to simply as
Turks, and it is sometimes impossible to tell the two apart in the historical
sources.111 Thus some commonality of origin was recognized. Opinions
about the Turks among the population were often strong but not univer-
sally favorable, and it is not surprising to find hadı̄ th brought in to
˙
strengthen one or another position. Mahmud al-Kashghari, who aimed
to encourage the spread of the Turkish language, quoted a Prophetic
hadı̄ th: “Learn the tongue of the Turks, for their reign will be long,”
˙
connecting this tradition to the emergence of the Oghuz themselves.112
Less friendly observers preferred the apocryphal hadı̄ th referring to the
˙
Turks: “If they love you they eat you, if they are angry with you they kill
you.”113 The theologian al-Ghazali, who enjoyed the patronage of the
Seljuqs but had reservations about their followers, struck a middle note in
his defense of the new system of governance: the Turks, despite their
overbearing pride and many other faults, had the crucial quality of mili-
tary power, which gave them the ability to guard the caliphate and hence
Islam. The ghā zı̄ activities of the Turkmen on the Byzantine frontier were
thus an important factor in their favor.114
109
Lambton, “Internal Structure,” pp. 245–249; Nizā m al-Mulk, The Book of
Government, p. 24. ˙
110
Durand-Guédy, “Türkmen-Saljū q Relationship,” pp. 28–29, 31–35, 44, 46.
111
Durand-Guédy, Iranian Elites, pp. 213–216.
112
al-Kā shgharı̄ , Compendium of the Turkic Dialects 1, p. 70.
113
Haarmann, “Ideology and History,” p. 180.
114
Hillenbrand, “Islamic Orthodoxy,” pp. 83–86.
While they might accept the Turks as rulers, the settled elites
considered themselves culturally superior. The ragged Oghuz who
entered Khorasan and had the effrontery to take it over were met
with ridicule as well as fear. These were people from a lower order of
civilization who could not understand the niceties of city life. One
story described Toghril and his followers in Nishapur after their
victory and final takeover: Toghril ate an almond cake and said,
“This is excellent tutmach (probably a noodle dish) but there is no
garlic in it.” His followers, even more ignorant, mistook camphor for
salt and complained of its bitterness, without recognizing that it was
another substance altogether.115
In the Iranian world, Turks had long been neighbors both inside
and outside the border, and they were seen as part of the natural
order of society. By the time of the Seljuqid invasion, the Turks and
the Persians – “Turk wa Tā jı̄ k” – were regarded as two complemen-
tary parts of government and society. As New Persian literature
developed in Khorasan and Transoxiana, the images and even the
words of the Turks were brought into it. Turks were seen as having
two basic qualities: military skill and personal beauty. Young Turkic
slaves of both sexes were often portrayed in poetry as love objects,
personifying beauty. We can cite one couplet to illustrate the com-
bination of characteristics associated with the Turks:
My idol is an archer bearing arrows of two kinds
With which in two ways he pierces hearts, in peace and war.
In time of peace my heart he pierces with the arrow of his eyelashes,
In time of war the heart of the enemy with arrows of khadang [actual
arrows].116
115
Ibn al-Athı̄ r, Annals, p. 40.
116
Tourkhan Gandjeï, “Turkish in Pre-Mongol Persian Poetry,” Bulletin of the School of
Oriental and African Studies 49, no. 1 (1986), pp. 67–71.
Conclusion
It is not clear how many Oghuz entered the Middle East over the course of
the Seljuqid period. After the initial migrations there appear to have been
two additional movements into the region in the twelfth century, so that
by the end of the century Turkmen constituted a significant population of
pastoral nomads throughout the northern regions, particularly in
Anatolia and Azerbaijan. Within the central Islamic lands, the Seljuq
rulers did not claim sovereign titles and followed the practice of other
secondary dynasties in subordinating themselves formally to the caliphs
while using the title of sultan for themselves. Nonetheless, they created
a new dynastic tradition and a new source of legitimation which lasted
beyond the Great Seljuq sultans. The Rum Sultanate, stemming from the
branch of Arslan Isra’il, lasted into the Mongol period. Other dynasties,
led by Atabegs, ruled in several regions, benefitting from Seljuqid dynas-
tic prestige well after the end of a unified state. An example is the
Salghurid dynasty of Fars, which retained control over the province as
a tributary of successive powers up to 1270. Former servitors of the
Seljuqs established states in the Jazira, Azerbaijan and northern Syria.
Although there was little overt reference to the steppe imperial tradition in
Seljuqid administration, the steppe nomads were now established in the
Middle East both as a ruling class and as an important source of military
manpower.
The Seljuqs did not attempt to establish Turkic as a language of
literature or administration, and in the religious sphere they sponsored
standardization and orthodox revival through their promotion of the
madrasa. However, they did effect a significant cultural change in bring-
ing the use of New Persian west as the language of the court and adminis-
tration, and as a literary language suitable for poetry, belles lettres and
history. This went along with the use of a dual administration, dividing
offices, theoretically at least, into a Persian civil sphere and a Turkic
military one. While the Turco-Iranian synthesis had begun under the
Samanids and Ghaznavids, it now became the court culture of most of
the Iranian regions.
The Seljuqs had arrived in the Middle East as fugitives; the Mongols
came as a conquering army, building a vast empire based on the steppe
imperial tradition. They began with a ferocious conquest, then created
a new imperial ideal encompassing the Eurasian steppe, the Silk Road and
China. For a while, much of the Middle East became a mere province in
a world empire that was governed through political institutions developed
and tested outside the Islamic world, most particularly in Inner Asia and
China. At the same time, the Mongols were quick to recognize local
expertise and to ally with regional powers. Within a few months of their
arrival in the eastern Islamic lands, they were incorporating Iranians into
their armies. The bureaucrats of eastern Iran were soon brought into
service and, as in the case of the Seljuqs, Iranian traditions found fertile
ground in Mongol court culture. Acculturation went both ways; as the
Mongols adapted to the Islamic world, their Muslim subjects in turn
adopted some elements of the steppe tradition. The Mongol Empire
lost its unity just as the conquest of Iran was completed, but its compo-
nent parts remained under the rule of Chinggis Khan’s descendants, and
in some cases continued to expand. Thus, what we might call the Mongol
enterprise remained an important world force for centuries.
Mongol rule had a profound cultural impact on the central Islamic
lands. The most developed steppe institutions were political and military,
and these left a lasting imprint. Like the earlier steppe rulers, the Mongols
fostered trade and with it the exchange of goods and ideas over a wide
area, from the rivers and forests of the Russian territory to China and the
Middle East. They further intensified cultural borrowing by their distri-
bution of personnel and goods throughout their empire. Iran and China
became closely connected, as khans in the central Islamic world brought
in a stream of Chinese and Central Asians and experimented with new
systems of governance and likewise with new foods and plants. Over time
the Islamic and steppe imperial traditions became intertwined and
together spread to encompass the western section of the Mongol
109
Empire. The influx of foreign ideas and styles created a period of remark-
able efflorescence in Perso-Islamic culture in numerous fields, opening
and widening the horizons of the Middle East.
1
Isenbike Togan, Flexibility and Limitation in Steppe Formations: The Kerait Khanate and
Chinggis Khan (Leiden: Brill, 1998), pp. 75–77, 117–118; Thomas T. Allsen, “The Rise of
the Mongolian Empire and Mongolian Rule in North China,” in Cambridge History of
China, vol. 6, ed. Herbert Franke and Denis Twitchett (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1994), pp. 323–326, 331–332.
2
Togan, Flexibility, pp. 86, 90–91, 99, 102–103.
and ambition the two men began to disagree, and in 1203 Temüjin fought
and defeated Ong Khan. He treated his victory as legitimate succession to
the rule of an expanded confederation and appropriated Kereit prestige
for his emerging state, in part by marrying into the dynasty.3 In
a campaign lasting from May 1204 into 1205 he broke the power of the
remaining tribes and became master of the Mongolian plateau.4
In 1206 Temüjin convoked a khuriltai – a gathering of representatives
from his own and subject tribes – at the source of the Onon River and
adopted a new title: Chinggis Khan. He set up his emerging empire as the
continuation of the imperial tradition of the Türk Khaghanate. Both
the Orkhon River valley, which had been the central imperial territory
of the khaghanate, and the Turkic concept of God-given fortune attached
to the person of the ruler were now taken over by the Mongols.5 Chinggis
Khan had a Uighur scribe from the Naiman adapt the Uighur alphabet for
the Mongolian language and teach it to his sons. He had already rewarded
his personal followers with formal offices. Much of his administration was
modeled on the Kereit adaptation of earlier traditions: he ordered his army
on a decimal system from units of ten men up to regiments of 10,000,
known as tümens, a system which went back to the Hsiung-nu. He also
formed a central guard corps, the keshig, which he put under his most loyal
followers.6 Most tribes were broken up and divided among contingents
commanded by outside commanders, many from his following.7 These
institutions became part of Mongol administration and survived among
subject states well beyond the end of Chinggisid rule. After his enthrone-
ment, Chinggis quickly expanded his realm in several directions. He sent
his eldest son Jochi to campaign on the northern and western frontiers,
while from 1211 to 1215 he mounted campaigns in north China and
Manchuria.8
Islamic Central Asia was known to the Mongols, since they traded with
the cities of Khorezm, and Chinggis Khan had had several Muslim
merchants among his early followers. Two new and aggressive powers
had arisen in the region. In Khorezm, a new dynasty of Khwarazmshahs
3
Igor de Rachewiltz, The Secret History of the Mongols: A Mongolian Epic Chronicle of the
Thirteenth Century (Leiden: Brill, 2006), pp. 108–109.
4
Paul Ratchnevsky, Genghis Khan, His Life and Legacy, trans. Thomas Nivison Haining
(Oxford; Cambridge, MA: B. Blackwell, 1992), pp. 52–88; Allsen, “Rise,” pp. 338–342;
Togan, Flexibility, p. 135.
5
Thomas T. Allsen, “Spiritual Geography and Political Legitimacy in the Eastern Steppe,”
in Ideology and the Formation of Early States, ed. Henri J. M. Claessen and Jarich G. Oosten
(Leiden: Brill, 1996), pp. 124–125.
6
Rachewiltz, Secret History, commentary, pp. 410, 464–465, 689; Togan, Flexibility, p. 75.
7
Togan, Flexibility, pp. 86, 90–91, 102–103; Allsen, “Rise,” pp. 346–347.
8
Paul D. Buell, “Early Mongol Expansion in Western Siberia and Turkestan (1207–1219):
A Reconstruction,” Central Asiatic Journal 36, no. 1–2 (1992), pp. 4–16.
had gathered an army of Turkmen from the steppe and taken over much
of Transoxiana and northern Khorasan. For about a century the Qara
Khitay, mentioned in Chapter 4, ruled a realm extending from the west-
ern Tarim River Basin to Transoxiana, and the Uighurs had become their
vassals. As Chinggis Khan began to expand his empire, the Uighur ruler
submitted to him voluntarily in 1211 and the Qarluq chiefs of the Ili valley
soon followed suit.9
In 1216 Mongol armies began to campaign in the west and by the end
of 1218 the Qara Khitay realm was under Mongol control. The
Khwarazmshah Sultan Muhammad now faced the Mongols directly,
and relations soon deteriorated. When a Mongol caravan reached Otrar
on the Jaxartes River it was detained by the governor, who executed its
merchants and seized their goods, probably with Sultan Muhammad’s
encouragement. Chinggis Khan sent an envoy to protest; Sultan
Muhammad had him killed. This incident provided the justification for
a western campaign, begun in the summer of 1219.10
19
Paul D. Buell, “Sino-Khitan Administration in Mongol Bukhara,” Journal of Asian
History 13, no. 2 (1979): pp. 122–125, 134–141; Igor de Rachewiltz, “Yeh-lü A-hai
(ca. 1151– ca. 1223), Yeh-lü T’u-hua (d. 1231),” in In the Service of the Khan: Eminent
Personalities of the Early Mongol-Yüan Period, ed. Igor de Rachewiltz, Hok-lam Chan,
Hsiao Ch’i-ch’ing and Peter W. Geier (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1993), pp. 118–119.
20
Juwaynı̄ , World Conqueror, p. 122; Bosworth, “Political and Dynastic,” p. 194.
21
Timothy May, The Mongol Art of War: Chinggis Khan and the Mongol Military System
(Barnsley, England: Pen & Sword Military, 2007), pp. 27–34.
22
May, Mongol Art of War, pp. 47–49.
the empire as a whole. Chinggis Khan died in August 1227. His sons by
his principal wife Börte became the progenitors of the four branches of the
dynasty, and most of the empire came to belong to their descendants.
Their individual territories are designated by the term ulus, signifying
both land and population. The Russian steppes formed the ulus of the
eldest son Jochi, while the Semirechie and Turkestan went to the second
son Chaghadai, and the Altai was the ulus of the third son Ögedei. As the
youngest son, Tolui kept the heartland of Mongolia and served as regent
on his father’s death. Ögedei was enthroned as supreme khan – khaghan –
by the Mongol princes at a khuriltay in the fall of 1229.
Transoxiana was joined with the other sedentary regions of the Silk
Road. The regional governor repaired irrigation systems, restored agri-
culture, and introduced a tax reform abolishing most extraordinary taxes,
at least in theory. Contemporary observers and numismatic evidence
suggest that by 1260 Central Asia had nearly regained its earlier
prosperity.23 The situation was very different in Iran, where Chinggis
Khan had installed officials only in a few eastern cities.24 Local rulers in
Iran, eastern Anatolia, and Syria found it wise to offer submission and
many traveled to the central court in person.25 One who did not submit
was the Khwarazmshah’s son Jalal al-Din Mangubirni, who left India to
campaign throughout the Middle East. The level of pillage he allowed his
army soon turned both rulers and populations against him. In 1230 a new
Mongol expedition arrived in Iran to deal with Jalal al-Din and impose
control. Jalal al-Din retreated and was subsequently killed by Kurds in the
summer of 1231. The Georgians and Armenians were subdued and most
of the major cities of Central Iran surrendered with minimal resistance.
Azerbaijan, with its excellent pasture, became the center of Mongol
administration over western Iran.
Under Ögedei and his successors, Güyüg (1246–1248) and Möngke
(1251–1259) the administration was systematized, and mechanisms were
developed to maximize the exploitation of conquered lands and peoples.
The Mongol Empire was a mix of brilliantly conceived organization and
administrative chaos. The largest settled regions were not included in the
individual uluses of Chinggis Khan’s sons. Chinggis Khan had appointed
darughas – military governors – in many cities and had created adminis-
trations in northern China and Transoxiana. Ögedei Khan transformed
23
Buell, “Sino-Khitan Administration,” pp. 139–147; Thomas T. Allsen, “Mahmū d
˙ in
Yalavač (?–1254); Mas‘ū d Beg (?–1289); ‘Alı̄ Beg (?–1280); Buir (fl. 1206–1260),”
In the Service of the Khan, pp. 122–127.
24
Paul D. Buell, “Tribe, ‘Qan’ and ‘ulus’ in Early Mongol China: Some Prolegomena to
Yüan History,” unpublished PhD dissertation, University of Washington (1977), p. 154.
25
Juwaynı̄ , World Conqueror, p. 250.
26
Timothy May, “The Mongol Conquest Strategy in the Middle East,” in The Mongols’
Middle East, ed. C. P Melville and Bruno De Nicola (Leiden: Brill, 2016), pp. 15–22.
27
Thomas T. Allsen, Mongol Imperialism: The Policies of the Grand Qan Möngke in China,
Russia, and the Islamic Lands, 1251–1259 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987),
pp. 159–162, 169; Igor de Rachewiltz, “Yeh-lü Ch’u Ts’ai (1189–1243); Yeh-lü Chu?
(1221–1285),” in In the Service of the Khan, pp. 150–151.
divided into decimal units from ten to 10,000, of which a portion served
as soldiers and others provided for the army’s needs. Thus, settled sol-
diers became a permanent part of the Mongol army.
Despite efforts by the khaghans, it proved impossible to prevent wide-
spread confusion and abuse, partly due to problems at the center.
Accession to the office of khaghan was based on consensus among the
major Chinggisid princes, and this was not easy to reach; thus, there were
long periods of interregnum during which the widow of the former khan
served as regent. During these times, princes and emirs expanded their
power within the satellite administrations at the expense of the govern-
ment and the population. In the twenty-four years between the death of
Chinggis Khan and the enthronement of Möngke Khan in 1251, the
Mongol Empire was without a khan for ten years, enough time to undo
much of the systematization achieved by the khaghans.
30
Juwaynı̄ , World Conqueror, pp. 488–489, 492–505.
31
Jean Aubin, Émirs mongols et vizirs persans dans les remous de l’acculturation, Studia Iranica.
Cahier 15 (Paris; Leuven, Belgique: Association pour l’avancement des études ira-
niennes; Diffusion Peeters Press, 1995), pp. 26–27.
32
Juwaynı̄ , World Conqueror, pp. 501, 510.
33
Michael Hope, Power, Politics, and Tradition in the Mongol Empire and the Ī lkhā nate of Iran
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), pp. 92–100.
34
Reuven Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks: The Mamluk-Ī lkhā nid War, 1260–1281
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), pp. 16–28; R. Stephen Humphreys,
From Saladin to the Mongols: The Ayyubids of Damascus, 1193–1260 (Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1977), pp. 330–363.
35
Amitai-Preiss, Mongols and Mamluks, pp. 39–45.
The Middle East was now divided into two sections: a primarily Iranian
region governed by pagan Mongols, and an Arab one ruled by Muslim
slave soldiers of Turkic descent, in the name of a shadow caliph.
Möngke’s death on August 12, 1259 marked the end of the unified
Mongol Empire; the Chinggisid princes were unable to reach consensus
on a new khaghan. When Khubilai had himself enthroned as khan,
Hülegü was the only important ruler to recognize him, and he was
rewarded in 1262 when Khubilai’s envoys formally invested him with
the title Ilkhan and with official power over the Mongol Middle East. The
two khanates maintained close relations, with frequent exchanges of
personnel.36
Hülegü soon came into conflict with Berke, the Jochid ruler of the Golden
Horde, and hostilities broke out in 1261–1262 over the rule of northwestern
Iran. Berke had converted to Islam and was now allied with the Mamluks.
The Mongols had for some time been in contact with the pope and
European rulers, and Hülegü sent a mission in 660/1262 to King Louis,
proposing cooperation.37 These two opposing alliances lasted through much
of the Ilkhanid period. The Golden Horde periodically raided through the
Caucasus; since the Mongol capital was in Azerbaijan, and the vulnerable
winter pastures lay to the north, this was a significant threat. The Mamluks
and Ilkhans likewise remained enemies. The Ilkhans undertook several
expeditions to Syria, none of which resulted in long-term rule, while the
Mamluks raided and sometimes occupied Mongol vassal powers in Anatolia
and Armenia. In the east, the Ilkhans were soon in conflict with the
Chaghadayid Khanate, which gradually took over the eastern part of
Afghanistan and threatened the Ilkhans’ Khorasanian territories.
The Ilkhans ruled directly over most of northern Iran and Iraq but left
eastern Anatolia and parts of Iran under the control of vassal dynasties. The
most powerful of these were the Sultanate of Rum (1077–1307), described
in Chapter 4; the originally Ghurid Kartids in Herat (1245–1381); the Qara-
Khitay Qutluq-Khanid dynasty of Kerman (1222 to 1305/1306); and the
Turkmen Salghurids of Fars (1148–1280). The dynasties of Fars and
Kerman both married princesses into the Ilkhanid dynasty and became
active in central politics, bringing the dynasty also into local rivalries.38
36
Thomas T. Allsen, “Changing Forms of Legitimation in Mongol Iran,” in Rulers from the
Steppe: State Formation and the Eurasian Periphery, ed. Gary Seaman and Daniel Marks
(Los Angeles: Ethnographics Press, 1991), pp. 226–232; “Notes on Chinese Titles in
Mongol Iran,” Mongolian Studies 14 (1991), pp. 27–39.
37
Jean Richard, “D’Älğ igidäi à Ğ azan: la continuité d’une politique franque chez les
Mongols d’Iran,” in L’Iran face à la domination mongole, ed. Denise Aigle (1997),
pp. 62–63.
38
George Lane, Early Mongol Rule in Thirteenth-Century Iran: A Persian Renaissance
(London; New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), pp. 96–175.
39
Peter Jackson, The Mongols and the Islamic World from Conquest to Conversion (New Haven,
CT: Yale University Press, 2017), pp. 282–285.
40
Bruno De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran: The Khā tū ns, 1206–1335 (Edinburgh:
Edinburgh University Press, 2017), pp. 132, 151–152, 159.
41
Women, pp. 95, 98; Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, pp. 548, 562, 580.
42
David Morgan, “Mongol or Persian: The Government of Ī lkhā nid Iran,” Harvard Middle
Eastern and Islamic Review 3, no. 1–2 (1996), pp. 62–76; Judith Pfeiffer, “Conversion to
Islam among the Ilkhans in Muslim Narrative Traditions: The Case of Ahmad Tegüder,”
unpublished PhD dissertation, University of Chicago (2003), pp. 226–227;˙ Aubin, Émirs
mongols, p. 82; Jackson, The Mongols, pp. 294–296.
43
Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, p. 741. 44 Aubin, Émirs mongols, p. 53.
though actual power in the beginning lay with his chief noyan, Amir
Choban. The Ilkhanate continued to defend itself successfully, but
when Abu Sa‘id died in 1335, he left no child or other suitable successor,
and the Ilkhanate soon came to an end.
For many years the accepted view of the Ilkhanate was that of
nomad rulers gradually educated by their Persian viziers to value
and support Perso-Islamic civilization and its agricultural base.
According to this formulation, it was the khan who was most likely
to promote assimilation and respect for the settled economy, while
a significant proportion of his Mongol followers opposed both. The
turning point of the dynasty was seen as 1295, when Ghazan Khan
restored Islam as the official religion and instituted reforms con-
sidered the first recognition of the needs of the settled population.
This formulation flows naturally from the contemporary histories,
most of which were written by bureaucrats in the service of the
Ilkhans. The most influential was that of Ghazan’s and Öljeitü’s
vizier, Rashid al-Din, who carried out Ghazan’s reforms. However,
in recent years scholars have increasingly questioned this analysis of
assimilation, as they have done for the Seljuqs. There are two ques-
tions to ask: first, whether acculturation began with the ruler and was
resisted by the noyans; and second, whether Ghazan’s reforms repre-
sented a turn towards the agricultural sector and away from a policy
favoring nomads.
Ghazan’s adoption of Islam was long considered a sign of the Ilkhanid
dynasty’s adjustment to the Perso-Islamic culture of its subjects, and
a prelude to his reforms. Ghazan converted at the urging of Amir
Nawruz shortly before he came to power, and he soon proclaimed Islam
the religion of the realm.45 Charles Melville has shown, however, that
conversion among the Mongol army elite was widespread by the time of
Ghazan’s accession; it is therefore possible that most of the army was
already Muslim. Thus, Ghazan probably converted as much to gain
support within the army as to appeal to the settled population.46 We
should remember that when Hülegü arrived, much of Iran had already
been under Mongol administration for several decades. As previously
mentioned, the Mongol army and administrators had been closely in
touch with Iranians, and within a few years of Chinggis Khan’s first
attack, the soldiers levied from Iranian cities were fighting alongside
Mongol soldiers. Both before and during Ilkhanid rule, Mongol emirs
45
Boyle, “Dynastic,” pp. 378–380.
46
Charles Melville, “Pā dshā h-i Islā m: The Conversion of Sultan Mahmū d Ghā zā n Khā n,”
Pembroke Papers 1 (1990), pp. 159–177; Pfeiffer, “Conversion,” pp. ˙ 85–99.
had become so impoverished that they sold their children into bondage.52
It is possible that the impoverishment of Mongol soldiers was also due to
wider social changes in the transition from tribe to army, since the 1290s
saw a similar problem in China, where some soldiers were likewise driven
by poverty to sell their children into slavery.53
When troops had to prepare for a campaign without sufficient supplies,
they stole each other’s horses to eat and pillaged agricultural populations.
This was a problem that Ghazan experienced in Khorasan in 1291–
1293.54 Ghazan thus faced an immediate crisis which threatened both
the Mongol army and the agricultural population. This problem was one
impetus for reforms aimed at providing a secure fiscal base for the army
and protection for settled populations. To support the army, grants of
land were to be distributed to Mongol soldiers according to rank down to
commanders of ten; these were to be farmed, probably by slaves or
subjects, as was the case under Khubilai in China.55 Land and other
taxes were to be collected according to fixed rates written on plaques
attached to the walls of buildings; nomads could write them on steles
erected wherever they thought best.56 Numerous extraordinary taxes
were repealed, and envoys and military were not allowed to demand
lodging at will. Other measures promoted restoration of abandoned
land and systematized currency, weights and measures. Ghazan’s meas-
ures share similarities with many of Khubilai Khan’s programs in China,
and we should note that Bolad Ch’eng Hsiang, a high official who had
served under Khubilai, was at court.57 Thus these reforms represent not
only an adjustment to local conditions, but a broader movement towards
change.
In the last decades several scholars have questioned whether Ghazan’s
reforms were fully carried out, since there is little evidence beyond Rashid
al-Din’s account and some abuses apparently continued.58 Nonetheless,
52
Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, pp. 735–736.
53
Ch’i-ch’ing Hsiao, The Military Establishment of the Yuan Dynasty (Cambridge, MA:
Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University: distributed by Harvard University
Press, 1978), pp. 29–30.
54
Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, pp. 604–613.
55
al-‘Umarı̄ , Das Mongolische Weltreich, p. 155; Hsiao, Military Establishment, pp. 20–
22, 46.
56
Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, p. 711.
57
Thomas T. Allsen, “Biography of a Cultural Broker, Bolad Ch’eng-Hsiang in China and
Iran,” in The Court of the Il-khans 1290–1340, ed. Julian Raby and Teresa Fitzherbert
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), pp. 7–22.
58
David O. Morgan, “Rašı̄ d al-Dı̄ n and Ġ azan Khan,” in L’Iran face à la domination
mongole, ed. Denise Aigle, Bibliotèque Iranienne (Tehran: Institut Français de
Recherche en Iran, 1997), pp. 185–186; Reuven Amitai, “Continuity and Change in
the Mongol Army of the Ilkhanate,” in The Mongols’ Middle East, ed. C. P. Melville and
Bruno De Nicola (Leiden: Brill, 2016), p. 44.
there does appear to have been some change for the better, particularly in
Öljeitü’s reign. This happy outcome may be due also to Ghazan’s success
in curbing the power of the Mongol elite, in particular the great noyans.
He had likewise taken steps to diminish the influence of dynastic women,
in part by interfering in the inheritance of their ordos, some of which now
passed to male members of the dynasty instead. Indeed, it is notable that
women become less conspicuous from the time of his reign.59 The depre-
dations of the high elite – both Mongol and Iranian – are a major theme in
Rashid al-Din’s discussion of the reforms.
59
De Nicola, Women, pp. 159–164.
60
Charles Melville, “The Itineraries of Sultan Öljeitü,” Iran 28 (1990), pp. 55, 58, 60; John
Masson Smith, “Mongol Nomadism and Middle Eastern Geography: Qı̄ shlā qs and
Tümens,” in The Mongol Empire and Its Legacy, ed. Reuven Amitai-Preiss and David
O. Morgan (Leiden: Brill, 2000), pp. 41–42, 51–52.
61
Reuven Amitai, “Did the Mongols in the Middle East Remain Pastoral Nomads?” in
Seminar at Max Planck Institute, Halle, Germany (Internet: Academia.edu), pp. 10–13.
62
Beatrice F. Manz, The Rise and Rule of Tamerlane, Cambridge studies in Islamic civiliza-
tion (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 159–161.
63
Denise Aigle, Le Fā rs sous la domination mongole: politique et fiscalité, XIIIe-XIVe s, Studia
Iranica, Cahier 31 (Paris: Association pour l’avancement des études iraniennes, 2005),
pp. 77–80.
largest group among the nomad population, but there were also
Qipchaqs, related to the ruling class of the early Mamluk state;
Mongols; and Khorezmian nomads, some previously under the
Khorezmshahs.69 Their political culture was formed by the nature of
their arrival: most came not as a conquest army, but as semi-
independent groups of frontier fighters. The Muslim-Christian border
region, known in Turkic as uj, had characteristics associated with other
frontiers – adaptability to local conditions and impatience with higher
authority. After the Seljukids of Rum lost power in 1306, Mongol gover-
nors ruled eastern Anatolia from two regions: Diyar Bakr to the south, an
important center for winter pastures; and the summer pastures in the
region of Mush and Akhlat.70 Control was partial, however. Local inde-
pendence and the fluidity of politics led to the rise and fall of innumerable
small principalities – or beyliks – mostly founded by powerful command-
ers who were able to gain independence and recruit soldiers from the
nomadic tribes.71
The active trade routes, extensive pastures and good agricultural land
of Anatolia provided a strong power base for the Mongol commanders
appointed to govern it. Several Mongolian lineages became established
there and were active over generations. In 1314, Abu Saìd’s emir Choban
was appointed to the governorship, and his family remained powerful in
the region for the next ten years. Several other great emirs succeeded to
this post, most notably Shaykh Hasan Jalayir, founder of the Jalayirid
dynasty.72 These families founded the western successor states to the
Ilkhans, and in the centuries thereafter, the nomads of Anatolia provided
leadership, troops, or both for many of the dynasties who ruled the
Middle East after the Mongols.
For the Mongols as for the Seljuqids, the question of tribalism is
complex. Among the Turkmen, tribes appear to have gained importance
in the Mongol period. As I wrote in Chapter 4, there is little evidence of
tribal organization among the Turkmen of the early Seljuqid period. The
traditional tribal names of the Oghuz do appear in the twelfth and thir-
teenth centuries, held by several regional dynasties including the
Salghurids and Döger, and a branch of the Döger tribe was powerful
near Edessa.73 In the fourteenth century more tribes with traditional
Oghuz names are mentioned on the Syrian-Egyptian border, and with
the collapse of the Ilkhanids they appear in eastern Anatolia as part of
rising confederations.74
Among the Turco-Mongolian population tribal power was uneven.
Chinggis Khan had created a decimal army and divided most tribes
among several different regiments, thus largely removing tribes as centers
of power. Within the central Ilkhanid territories, tribalism seems not to
have played a significant role in politics. Many of the great noyans of the
Ilkhanid period bear tribal names, but these appear to denote a descent
line rather than a larger corporate group, and their power depended in
large part on dynastic favor, which was often cemented by intermarriage.75
The only tribe which was clearly an active political entity was the Oirat,
whose leader had married Chinggis Khan’s daughter. Subsequent marriages
cemented its power, and a significant segment of the tribe came west in the
army of Hülegü and was still under its own leadership. It remained as a large
cohesive tribe in the region of Diyar Bakr beyond the period of the
Ilkhanate.76
Over time, however, the new troop contingents formed by the Mongols
became power centers in themselves. Mongol soldiers were closely con-
nected to their regiments, which they were not permitted to leave.77
Rashid al-Din mentions several tümens whose command was either
inherited by descendants of the original commander or reassigned by
a khan.78 Both regiments and royal camps (ordos) could remain intact
over generations, sometimes passed on within one family and sometimes
re-assigned. This is attested for the ordos of Ilkhanid dynastic women; the
ordo of Hülegü’s wife Dokuz Khatun, who died in 1265, can be traced
through numerous other women into the fourteenth century.79 Ordos
consisted of servants, livestock, and soldiers, and the regiments also
presumably owned considerable livestock, since we know that pasturages
73
F. Sümer, “Döger,” EI 2nd ed.
74
Cahen, “Les tribus”; John E. Woods, The Aqquyunlu: Clan, Confederation, Empire, rev.
and expanded ed. (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1999), pp. 25–28.
75
See, for example, Patrick Wing, The Jalayirids: Dynastic State Formation in the Mongol
Middle East (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), pp. 42–58.
76
Anne F. Broadbridge, “Marriage, Family and Politics: The Ilkhanid-Oirat Connection,”
Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 26, no. 1–2 (2016).
77
May, Mongol Art of War, p. 31. 78 Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, pp. 42, 91.
79
De Nicola, Women, pp. 156–157.
I. P. Petrushevskiı̆, “The Socio-Economic Condition of Iran under the Ī l-Khā ns,” in The
Cambridge History of Iran, vol. V (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968),
pp. 483–537.
84
Lambton, Continuity and Change, p. 219; Jean Aubin, “Réseau pastoral et réseau car-
avanier. Les grand’ routes du Khurassan à l’époque mongole,” Le Monde iranien et l’Islam
1 (1971), pp. 107–108; Jean Aubin, “La propriété foncière en Azerbaydjan sous les
Mongols,” Le monde iranien et l’Islam 4 (1976–1977), p. 130.
85
See, for example, Juwaynı̄ , World Conqueror, pp. 616–617; Ahmad b. Jalā l al-Dı̄ n Fası̄ h
˙ Bā stā n, 1960–1961) ˙II,˙
Khwā fı̄ , Mujmal-i Fası̄ hı̄ , ed., Muhammad Farrukh (Mashhad:
pp. 334, 337, 340. ˙ ˙ ˙
86
Aigle, Le Fā rs, p. 124.
87
Jean Aubin, “Réseau pastoral”; Qazvı̄ nı̄ , Hamd Allā h Mustawfı̄ , The Geographical Part of
the Nuzhat-al-qulub (Leiden: Brill; London: ˙ Luzac, 1915–1919), pp. 61–66, 68–73,
78–94; Aubin, “La propriété foncière,” pp. 112–113.
88
Jackson, The Mongols, p. 206. 89 Aigle, Le Fā rs, pp. 152–153.
90
Ann K. S. Lambton, “Mongol Fiscal Administration in Persia, pt. II,” Studia Islamica 65
(1987), pp. 100–121; Lane, Early Mongol Rule, pp. 133–141; Aigle, Le Fā rs, pp. 92, 104,
120, 127.
91
Lambton, “Mongol Fiscal Administration,” pp. 109–110.
92
Jacques Paviot, “Les marchands italiens dans l’Iran mongol,” in L’Iran face à la domin-
ation mongole, ed. Denise Aigle, p. 84; Jean Aubin, “Les princes d’ Ormuz du XIIIe au
Xve siècle,” Journal Asiatique 24 (1953), pp. 85, 92–93.
93
De Nicola, Women, pp. 152–154.
94
Lambton, “Mongol Fiscal Administration,” pp. 105–106, 114.
95
Oliver Watson, “Pottery under the Mongols,” in Beyond the Legacy of Genghis Khan, ed.
Linda Komaroff (Leiden: Brill, 2006), pp. 330–333; Bernard O’Kane, “Persian Poetry
on Ilkhanid Art and Architecture,” in Beyond the Legacy of Genghis Khan, ed.
Linda Komaroff (Leiden: Brill, 2006), p. 353; Aubin, “Propriété foncière,” p. 129.
96
Aubin, “Propriété foncière,” pp. 93–94.
than to extortion by Iranian and Mongol elites from the general popula-
tion, settled and nomad alike.
Cultural Impact
The Mongols came into the Middle East as imperial rulers, imposing their
own institutions, and the Mongol Empire brought most of Eurasia into
one interconnected system with unprecedented levels of travel and
exchange. The steppe imperial tradition became intertwined with the
Islamic heritage, both through Mongol rule and through the expansion
of the Islamic religion. The Mongols also brought with them an expansive
world view, encompassing the Eurasian steppe and its neighbors – China,
Russia and western Europe. The first Mongol rulers in the Middle East
were pagan and treated all religions as equal; their promotion of
Buddhism was particularly resented, since it was seen as polytheism.
The source of legitimacy was no longer the caliphate, but the family of
Chinggis Khan and the authority of the supreme khaghan. For some time
after the demise of the unified Mongol Empire, legitimate sovereignty
remained limited to the descendants of Chinggis Khan. With the end of
the caliphate, there was no impediment either to Muslim acceptance of
Chinggisid rule, or to Mongol conversion to Islam. There were moreover
some commonalities between Islamic and Mongol ideologies, most not-
ably a belief that successful conquest indicated God’s favor and thus
justified rule. By the mid-fourteenth century the Ilkhanate, the Golden
Horde, and the Chaghadayid Khanate were all officially Muslim.
While the Mongol rulers adopted Perso-Islamic chancellery practice,
they brought with them new government structures, some of which
remained in place well beyond the Ilkhanate. Institutions such as the
military governor assigned to a city – darugha – and the imperial guard,
the keshig, lasted into the Safavid dynasty.97 A more contentious element
of Mongol tradition was the yasa (Mongolian: jasakh), a term usually
translated as “law” or “code.” There is controversy over whether the yasa
was a specific set of laws existing as a written document. The precepts
preserved deal primarily with military and administrative matters, but in
the Middle East by the fourteenth century the term yasa had come to
signify both law and custom (yosun). The yasa and yosun were considered
central to Mongol power, but some tenets contravened requirements of
the shari‘a. The most problematic were a prohibition against washing in
97
Charles Melville, “The Keshig in Iran: The Survival of the Royal Mongol Household,” in
Beyond the Legacy of Genghis Khan, ed. Linda Komaroff (Leiden: Brill, 2006),
pp. 135–164.
running water, which interfered with the Muslim ablution, and the rules on
how animals should be killed – by cutting the breast and squeezing the vital
organs – which went against Muslim dietary law demanding the slitting of
the throat. Mongols also practiced the levirate – marrying the wives of their
deceased fathers – likewise contrary to Islamic law. Islamic histories
recount stories of Muslims punished for infringing on these customs by
tyrannical pagan khans, most notably Chinggis Khan’s son Chaghadai, but
it seems unlikely that Mongol rules were fully enforced on the Muslim
population. After the Ilkhanid conversion to Islam, most customs specifically
contrary to Islam appear to have been abandoned; in any case, we hear little
about them. The yasa seems to have been an elastic and changing code,
adapting over time to a new society; its edicts are described quite differently
by various historians. Whatever the reality of the yasa, as an idea and a marker
of identity, it continued to be central to Turco-Mongolian government and
remained for some Muslims a potent symbol of the alien nature of Mongol
governance.98
In the realm of cultural production – scientific, literary, and artistic – the
Mongol impact was clearly a positive one. The Mongol taste for Chinese
and Central Asian culture brought in new influences which initiated
a period of extraordinary cultural efflorescence in Iran. The Mongols
also showed a predilection for practical scientific knowledge such as astron-
omy, medicine, pharmacology, agronomy, and geography. When Chinggis
Khan conquered the Middle East he brought along Chinese astronomers,
one of whom was in charge of an observatory in Samarqand by 1222.99
Hülegü in turn brought doctors and astronomers from China, and on his
conquest of the fortress of Alamut from the Isma‘ilis he acquired its famous
library and instruments, along with the brilliant scholar Nasir al-Din Tusi
(1201–1274) for whom he founded an observatory whose calculations lay
behind most later astronomy in the Middle East and Europe.
The later Mongol khans were also patrons of art and architecture.
Abandoning the Mongol custom of secret burial, Ghazan built
a mausoleum for himself in a waqf complex in Tabriz, with religious institu-
tions, an observatory, library, hospital, and a kitchen to feed the poor.100 In
713/1313–1314 his successor Öljeitü completed a mausoleum in the town of
98
Denise Aigle, “Mongol Law versus Islamic Law. Myth and Reality,” in The Mongol
Empire between Myth and Reality: Studies in Anthropological History, ed. Denise Aigle
(Leiden: Brill, 2015). For another recent discussion, see David Morgan, “The ‘Great
yasa of Chinggis Khan’ revisited,” in Mongols, Turks and Others, ed. Reuven Amitai and
Michal Biran (Leiden: Brill, 2005), pp. 291–308.
99
Thomas T. Allsen, Culture and Conquest in Mongol Eurasia, Cambridge studies in Islamic
civilization (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), p. 165.
100
Birgitt Hoffmann, Waqf im mongolischen Iran: Rašı̄ duddı̄ ns Sorge um Nachruhm und
Seelenheil (Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 2000), p. 112.
Sultaniyya. The complex became a new ceremonial capital, and the mauso-
leum is considered a masterpiece of Islamic architecture.
The vizier Rashid al-Din was a towering figure in Ilkhanid cultural life.
This great polymath was born in 647 or 648/1249–1251 and probably began
his career at court quite young.101 He was the author, or compiler, of several
encyclopedic works. His treatise on agronomy is distinguished by its inclu-
sion of numerous plants from outside, particularly from China. His greatest
work was his world history, the Jā mi‘ al-tawā rı̄ kh, begun for Ghazan and
completed about 710/1310. It put earlier histories of the Islamic world into
a new frame that encompassed the Mongols, Europeans, Chinese and
others. Rashid al-Din made use of many experts, using Indian and
Buddhist scholars and experts in Chinese and Mongolian traditions. For
centuries afterwards, universal histories included both the regional kings of
Iran and the four branches of the Chinggisid house.102 The history was
illustrated – a practice new with the Ilkhans – and the paintings show strong
Chinese and Central Asian elements. By the 1330s a new Persian style of
painting had begun, one which developed into the Persian miniature.
In crafting their legitimation, the Ilkhans turned to Iranian traditions,
particularly to the Shā hnā ma, which their artists produced in magnificent,
illustrated manuscripts. Like earlier nomad dynasties, they identified with
the Turanian king, Afrasiyab.103 The promotion of Persian traditions in
the Mongol court combined with active cultural borrowing to create new
Persian styles in art, architecture and historiography that were increas-
ingly distinct from Arab culture. The cultural achievements of the
Ilkhans, and the magnificent monuments they erected, contributed to
their lasting prestige within the Perso-Islamic world.
101
Hoffmann, Waqf, pp. 59–72.
102
Charles Melville, “From Adam to Abaqa: Qā dı̄ Baidā wı̄ ’s rearrangement of history,”
Studia Iranica 30, no. 1 (2001), pp. 71–79. ˙ ˙
103
Tomoko Masuya, “Ilkhanid Courtly Life,” in The Legacy of Genghis Khan: Courtly Art
and Culture in Western Asia, 1256–1353, ed. Stefano Carboni and Linda Komaroff
(New York; London: Metropolitan Museum of Art; New Haven: Yale University
Press, 2002), pp. 84–85; A. S. Melikian-Chirvani, “Conscience du passé et résistance
culturelle dans l’ Iran mongol,” in L’Iran face à la domination mongole, ed. Denise Aigle
(Tehran: Institut français de recherche en Iran 1997), pp. 145–159.
to the ‘Abbasids, and Iran, which was in the Mongol sphere. The Middle
East became divided into three major cultural zones, one Arab, one Iranian,
and one – in Anatolia – primarily Turkic. In Iran the concept of a separate
Iranian realm – Irā n zamı̄ n – returned to use after centuries in abeyance. This
term reflected a new regional and cultural consciousness but did not imply
either that a political realm would coincide with the boundaries of Irā n
zamı̄ n, or that it would be ruled by Iranians. Despite strong separate iden-
tities and feelings of superiority on each side, Mongols and Iranians inter-
married and became closely connected both culturally and politically.104
Ambitious Iranians had early realized that an understanding of Mongolian
culture was an asset, and numerous Turkic and Mongolian words entered
the language. While Iranians resented some Mongol practices, they none-
theless accepted many aspects of Mongolian political culture, which
remained important for centuries after the fall of the Ilkhans.
The vast extent of Chinggis Khan’s conquests and the spectacular
punishments he visited on rebellious cities gave him an almost unmatched
charisma, and the success of his descendants in expanding and ruling
a world empire cemented the prestige of his dynasty. The Mongols were
cursed by many historians, but they commanded respect. The Mongol
heritage was treasured and elaborated despite the breakup of the empire
and the changing identity in the western Mongol realms as the elite
converted to Islam and adopted Turkic as their spoken language. The
population of Mongolia and the army of Chinggis Khan had been made
up of both Turkic and Mongolian speakers sharing a political culture.
Over time, Turkic won out as the language of speech, while loyalty to
Mongol tradition remained, and by the end of the dynasty, the ruling class
of the western Mongol world is best characterized as Turco-Mongolian.
While they mixed with the eastern Turks, they remained separate from
the Oghuz/Turkmen in language and political culture. From this period
into the nineteenth century, the Turks provided much of the military
manpower of the Middle East, as well as most of its ruling dynasties.
By destroying the central caliphate, the Mongols inaugurated a new era
in which it was possible to assert full sovereign rule over separate regions
of the Islamic world. This act made possible the empires of the early
modern period – the Ottomans, Safavids, Mughals and Uzbeks – each of
which fostered a unique cultural complex, while sharing many elements
of the mixed culture that developed under the Mongols.
104
al-‘Umarı̄ , Das Mongolische Weltreich, p. 159; Yali Xue Tatiana Zerjal et al., “The
Genetic Legacy of the Mongols,” American Journal of Human Genetics 72 (2003),
pp. 717–721.
The collapse of the Ilkhanate in 1336 did not mark the end of Mongol
influence in the Middle East. Through the northern regions of Iran and
eastern Anatolia, Turco-Mongolian personnel and their armies remained
active and powerful. Nor did the end of the Ilkhanate signal the decline of
the Mongol enterprise as a whole. The Chinggisid dynasty continued to
reign through much of Eurasia – in China until 1368 and for centuries
more both in the Chaghadayid territories, and in the Golden Horde as
well as other Jochid khanates to the north. By this time the Islamic and
Mongol traditions had ceased to be separate. Through much of the
steppe, the nomads were Muslim and acquainted with Persian culture.
The Middle East was part of a wide world in which the figure of Chinggis
Khan and the memory of the unified Mongol Empire retained over-
whelming prestige. By destroying the caliphate, the Mongols had made
it possible for sovereign Mongol states to adopt Islam and for the religion
to spread to vast new territories. In this world, however, legitimate sover-
eignty was limited to the descendants of Chinggis Khan, and in the
fourteenth century this tradition in its turn became a problem for rulers,
calling for new forms of steppe legitimation.
Within the Islamic Mongol world, with which we are concerned here,
separate identities had begun to form reflecting regional and historical
variations, different levels of involvement with the Mongol enterprise,
and different paths within it. The Mongols had ruled from two regions:
the pastures of northwestern Khorasan and the highlands of Azerbaijan.
After the fall of the Ilkhans several centers of power emerged, with
increasing separation between the eastern and the western regions. In
the east, Ilkhanid successor states bordered the Chaghadayid realm,
which was strongly attached to the Chinggisid tradition. Azerbaijan, in
contrast, was drawn into the politics of Arab Iraq, Syria and especially
Anatolia. Over time, therefore, these two regions developed separate
political cultures. The western regions, with a large Turkmen population,
moved to a more tribal structure and a legitimation built on an earlier
steppe tradition. In the east, both organization and legitimation remained
Chinggisid.
139
The later fourteenth century saw the creation of new domains. The
towering figure of the period was the Turco-Mongolian conqueror
Temür, known in the West as Tamerlane. Temür rose to power near
Samarqand in 1370 and set out first to take over the western half of the
Chaghadayid khanate, then to recreate the Mongol Empire symbolically,
and finally to dominate both the Islamic and the Mongol worlds. To the
north he was challenged by the equally ambitious Jochid ruler,
Tokhtamish, who reunited much of the Jochid ulus and harried the
borders of Temür’s realm.
In the west, the political picture was more complicated. In Anatolia the
Oghuz population outnumbered the Turco-Mongolian nomads, and
separate principalities sprang up through the region. The Ottoman dyn-
asty had begun to develop by 1300, and through the fourteenth century it
gradually expanded, moving into eastern Anatolia towards the end of the
century under the leadership of Yildirim (Thunderbolt) Bayazid. The
Mamluk sultanate attempted to control the areas bordering northern
Syria, often through client confederations of Turkmen tribes. Several
major tribal confederations arose in eastern Anatolia and later expanded
into Iran, most notably the Qaraquyunlu and the Aqquyunlu – the Black
and White Sheep.
Rulers of the fourteenth century were not only conquerors; they were
also major cultural patrons. The brilliant achievements of the Ilkhans had
made them a model for their Turkic successors, who created a highly
sophisticated artistic culture in architecture, literature and the arts of the
book. In historiography and political ideology, they produced a synthesis
of Turkic, Mongolian and Perso-Islamic traditions that remained influ-
ential for centuries thereafter.
1
Charles Melville, “Čobā n,” EIr; Wing, Jalayirids, pp. 63, 69–70.
19
Venzke, “Dulgadir-Mamluk,” pp. 409–413.
20
Cemal Kafadar, Between Two Worlds: The Construction of the Ottoman State (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1995), pp. 10–17, 37–57.
21
Lindner, Nomads and Ottomans, p. 25; Kafadar, Between two Worlds, pp. 125–129.
22
Lindner, Nomads and Ottomans, pp. 26–37; Lindner, Explorations in Ottoman Prehistory
(Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2007), pp. 35–53.
23
F. Sümer, “Ḳaramā n-Oghullarï,” EI 2nd ed.; Rudi Lindner, “Anatolia, 1300–1451,” in
Cambridge History of Turkey, ed. Kate Fleet (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2009), pp. 114–115.
Near the end of the fourteenth century the Ottomans attacked the
Karamanids, and hostilities intensified during the reign of the ambitious
Sultan Yildirim Bayezid (1389–1402). The entry of the Ottomans into
the politics of eastern Anatolia did not, however, impede the growth of the
tribal confederations. A centralizing government did not appeal to
autonomous nomad populations; thus, tribes dislodged from the
Karamanids often moved east to join the Aqqoyunlu or Qaraqoyunlu.
The independent attitude of the Turkmen tribal commanders is illus-
trated in the terms on which the Qaraqoyunlu had agreed to join the
Jalayirids in 1382; they demanded that the Turkmen be allowed to fight in
their own way, and that they keep the spoils of battle.28 The nomads of
eastern Anatolia had retained their independence from the centralized
states on their borders. They were soon to encounter yet another threat,
with the rise of the great conqueror Tamerlane.
28
Wing, Jalayirids, pp. 155–156.
29
Michal Biran, “The Mongols in Central Asia from Chinggis Khan’s Invasion to the Rise
of Temür: The Ögödeid and Chaghadaid Realms,” in The Cambridge History of Inner
Asia: the Chinggisid Age, ed. Allen J. Frank, Nicola Di Cosmo, Peter B. Golden
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 58–59.
30
“Mongols in Central Asia,” p. 59; Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 43–45, 51, 57, 155, 158.
31
The Suldus are not mentioned in Rashid al-Din’s list of Chaghadai’s troops, but they do
appear in the Mongol and Timurid genealogies. Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 156–158, 163–
164; Rashı̄ d-al-Dı̄ n, Compendium, pp. 279–280.
32
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 155–156, 164–165.
33
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 27–28, 36–38.
Chaghatay, and began his rise to power in the classic fashion of nomad
conquerors, by going outside his own tribe to gather support. He first
appears in the histories in 1360, when he allied with the invading eastern
Chaghadayid khan to become chief of the Barlas. The next ten years were
ones of constant political struggle. Over this period Temür gradually
increased his power, supporting various candidates for leadership and
gathering a personal following outside his tribe.34
In 1370, Temür defeated the Qara’unas leader Amir Husayn and took
power over the Ulus Chaghatay. He incorporated the Qara’unas troops
into his army and married several of Amir Husayn’s wives, including two
Chinggisid women. For his capital he chose the prestigious city of
Samarqand, where he called a convocation to recognize the rule of his
own puppet khan.35 Titles connoting sovereignty – sultan, padshah and
khan – were reserved for the puppet khan, while Temür himself used the
title amir, or Amir-i Kabir (Great Commander) adding the epithet
güregen – royal son-in-law. Like Chinggis Khan, Temür centralized
power within his confederation before embarking on his conquests. The
tribal leaders of the Ulus soon began turning against his rule, but as tribes
rebelled, Temür was able to defeat them and put them under the leader-
ship of personal followers. Unlike Chinggis, who decimated many
defeated tribes, Temür treated tribal leaders with care. Nonetheless,
over the course of eleven years he transformed his army from a tribal
confederation into a decimally organized army of conquest commanded
by men from his personal following.36 Tribal leadership no longer pro-
vided a separate power base. Here Temür’s confederation differed mark-
edly from those of the western regions.
Temür developed his ambitions within the framework of the Mongol
Empire. The first campaigns he undertook were against the Eastern
Chaghadayid Khans and Khorezm, both part of the Mongol Empire,
and he justified these expeditions through Chinggisid ideology.37 When
in 1375–1377 Tokhtamish, a Chinggisid pretender to the Jochid Blue
Horde on Temür’s northern border, applied for help, Temür gave him
a warm reception and helped him to regain his throne. In 1380 Temür
began to look to the south and west. Within Iran he pursued goals both
strategic and symbolic, aiming at control over the northern trade routes
while laying claim to the inheritance of the Mongol Ilkhanate. In
Mazandaran, he defeated the upstart who had supplanted the
34
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 45–57. 35 Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 57–58.
36
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 58–62.
37
John E. Woods, “Timur’s Genealogy,” in Intellectual Studies on Islam: Essays Written in
Honor of Martin B. Dickson, ed. Michael Mazzaoui and Vera B. Moreen (Salt Lake City:
University of Utah Press, 1990), pp. 101–104.
38
Jean Aubin, “Comment Tamerlan prenait les villes,” Studia Islamica 19 (1963).
39
Beatrice F. Manz, “Mongol History Rewritten and Relived,” in Figures Mythiques des
mondes musulmans, special issue of Revue des mondes musulmans et de la Méditerranée, ed.
Denise Aigle (Aix en Provence: Édisud, 2001), pp. 138–140.
40
M. G. Safargaliev, Raspad Zolotoı̆ Ordy, Uchenye zapiski (Saransk: Mordovskoe knizhoe
izd-vo, 1960), p. 172.
territory suitable for nomadism, the larger part of the economy was
agricultural and urban. The definition of his realm did not mark the end
of Temür’s campaigns. By the 1390s, Temür had acquired an additional
ambition – primacy within the Islamic world – and in 1398 he set out
against the Delhi sultanate of India. The new ambition did not push out
the old; Temür was still determined recreate the Mongol Empire symbol-
ically. At the time of his Indian campaign, he was already planning to
attack China where the Ming dynasty had overthrown the Mongol
Yüan.41
41
Beatrice F. Manz, “Temür and the Problem of a Conqueror’s Legacy,” Journal of the
Royal Asiatic Society series 3 vol. 8, no. 1 (1998), p. 25.
42
Patrick Wing, “Between Iraq and a Hard Place: Sultā n Ahmad Jalā yir’s Time as
a Refugee in the Mamluk Sultanate,” in Mamluk Cairo, ˙ A Crossroads
˙ for Embassies:
Studies on Diplomacy and Diplomatics, ed. Frédéric Bauden and Malika Dekkiche
(Leiden: Brill, 2019), pp. 164–166.
Our hearts are like mountains and our numbers like sand . . . He who makes
peace with us is saved, and he who fights us regrets it . . .43
In response, Sultan Barquq also returned to past models, sending a letter
claiming guardianship of Islam and suggesting that Temür was an
infidel.44 From this time on the Mamluks were open enemies.
In 1394–1395 Temür sought an alliance with the Ottoman sultan
Bayezid, who was then occupied in the western Ottoman regions.45
Temür’s letter to Bayezid initiated a correspondence which lasted until
his invasion of Anatolia in 1402. The language of their letters, both in
praise and in blame, gives insight into the fault lines within the nomad
heritage. Temür’s first letter was written in the hopes of detaching
Bayazid from the Mamluks. The title used for Bayazid, “Ghazi Bayazid
Khan,” acknowledged both Bayazid’s Islamic merit and his status within
the Turco-Mongolian world. Sultan Barquq on the other hand, was
a nobody – a Circassian slave page, who had overthrown and killed his
master and imprisoned the ‘Abbasid shadow caliph.46 This passage refers
to the fact that Barquq came from a new line of Mamluk sultans,
Circassians from the Caucasus who had taken over the sultanate from
the Qipchaq Turks who had held it earlier. Temür was pointing out that
Barquq was not only a slave and an outsider, but one who had killed
a ruler who although a slave was at least a Turk.
Temür’s alliance with Bayezid did not last long. As Bayazid turned his
attention east, he wrote to Barquq requesting a diploma from the Abbasid
shadow caliph recognizing him as the heir to the Seljukids of Rum.47
Meanwhile Temür again headed west to attack Sultan Ahmad Jalayir
(now back in Baghdad) and the Qaraqoyunlu chief, Qara Yusuf. Both
took refuge with Bayazid. The correspondence between Temür and
Bayazid gained in frequency and declined in civility. Temür boasted of
his conquests and the overwhelming size of his army, identifying himself
with the Ilkhans; Bayazid answered by stating that his ancestor Ertoghrul
had defeated a large army of Mongols and Tatars.48 Thus the earlier
struggles between the Turkmen of Rum and the Chinggisid Mongols
were resurrected. As Bayazid continued intransigent, Temür clearly
expressed the superiority that the eastern Turco-Mongolians claimed
43
Anne F. Broadbridge, Kingship and Ideology in the Islamic and Mongol Worlds (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2008), p. 182.
44
Broadbridge, Kingship, pp. 174–185.
45
Zeki Velidi Togan, “Timurs Osteuropapolitik,” Zeitschrift der deutchen morgenländischen
Geselschaft 108 (1958), pp. 279–280; Lindner, “Anatolia, 1300–1451,” pp. 129–130.
46
Togan, “Timurs Osteuropapolitik,” pp. 279–281. 47 Broadbridge, Kingship, p. 175.
48
‘Abd al-Husayn Nawā ’ı̄ , ed. Asnā d wa makā tibā t-i tā rı̄ khı̄ -i Ī rā n (Tehran:
˙
Bungā h-i Tarjama va Nashr-i Kitā b, 2536/1977), pp. 97–103.
over the Turkmen. He accused Bayazid of giving himself airs beyond his
station; he was after all merely the descendant of a Turkmen boatman,
and Turkmen were known to be without judgment.49 Now Bayezid was
sailing the boat of vain ambition into the whirlpool of conceit, and if he
did not lower his sail and drop the anchor of repentance, he would find
himself buffeted by waves of revenge and would drown in the sea of
calamity.50
After defeating the Mamluk army in Syria, Temür prepared to attack
the Ottomans in the spring of 1402. The two adversaries both led formid-
able armies. In addition to his own troops, Temür had some Anatolian
forces, notably the Aqqoyunlu, who sided with him. Bayazid commanded
a highly trained standing army with additional Anatolian Turkmen and
Mongol soldiers.51 Temür also wooed local forces, sending an emissary to
the Mongols of Sivas, Kayseri and Malatya with promises of independ-
ence under their own khans.52 When the two armies met near Ankara in
July 1402, Temür’s strategy bore fruit. Some Mongol and Turkmen
troops deserted the Ottomans to join Temür. Bayazid’s army suffered
decisive defeat, with Bayazid himself taken captive.53 Although Temür
spent a few more months campaigning in Anatolia, he made no attempt to
create his own administration there.54 As he left, he divided the Ottoman
realm, now a vassal state, among three of Bayazid’s sons, and reestab-
lished many of the beyliks that Bayazid had destroyed.55
Temür defeated both the Mamluks and Bayazid, and deported a large
body of nomads, but the tribal confederations of Anatolia and Azerbaijan
remained largely outside his control. He never succeeded in gaining a firm
hold over Azerbaijan; nor did he succeed in weakening the Qaraqoyunlu
for long. The Aqqoynlu received the region of Amid (Diyar Bakr) in
reward for their service, a grant which helped the branch of Temür’s
ally Qara ‘Uthman to gain preeminence and increase internal control.56
Eastern Anatolia remained a repository of nomad and tribal power threat-
ening the Timurid hold on Azerbaijan and Baghdad.
49
Michele Bernardini, Mémoire et propagande à l’époque timouride, Studia Iranica. Cahier 37
(Paris: Association pour l’avancement des études iraniennes, 2008), p. 151.
50
Sharaf al-Dı̄ n ‘Alı̄ Yazdı̄ , Zafarnā ma (Tehran: Amı̄ r Kabı̄ r, 1957), vol II, pp. 186–189.
51 ˙
Marie-Mathilde Alexandrescu-Dersca, La campagne de Timur en Anatolie (1402)
(Bucharest: Imprimeria Nationala, 1942), pp. 57–59, 114–115.
52
Alexandrescu-Dersca, La campagne, p. 55.
53
Alexandrescu-Dersca, La campagne, pp. 68–79.
54
Alexandrescu-Dersca, La campagne, p. 91.
55
Colin Imber, The Ottoman Empire, 1300–1650: The Structure of Power, 2nd ed.
(Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), p. 16.
56
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 41–43.
57
For Temür’s date of birth, see Beatrice F. Manz, “Tamerlane and the Symbolism of
Sovereignty,” Iranian Studies 21, no. 1–2 (1988), pp. 113–114, n33.
58
Beatrice Forbes Manz, Power, Politics and Religion in Timurid Iran (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 16.
59
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 91–100; Manz, Power, Politics, pp. 123–126.
60
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 132–136; Manz, Power, Politics, p. 269n.; Abū Bakr
Tihrā nı̄ Isfahā nı̄ , Kitā b-i Diyā rbakriyya, eds. N. Lugal and F. Sümer (Ankara: Türk
˙
tarih Kurumu˙ Basımevi, 1962–1964), p. 350.
61
Manz, Rise and Rule, p. 116. 62 Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 100–106.
63
Manz, Rise and Rule, pp. 109–110.
64
Maria Subtelny, Timurids in Transition: Turko-Persian Politics and Acculturation in
Medieval Iran, vol. 19, Brill’s Inner Asian library (Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2007), pp.
25–27; Manz, “Mongol History,” p. 144.
65
Manz, Power, Politics, pp. 80–110, 164–177.
66
Manz, Power, Politics, pp. 147–150, 157–165.
pastures and trade routes of eastern Anatolia from Erzerum to Diyar Bakr
throughout Shahrukh’s reign.
Despite the control of important cities and the development of sophis-
ticated administrations, both the Aqqoyunlu and the Qaraqoyunlu
retained their tribal structure. For the Aqqoyunlu, who sponsored several
dynastic histories, we have a picture of the conduct of government. The
sultan enhanced his power through the use of a personal military follow-
ing, recruited from both tribal nomads and non-tribal populations. This
was regularly paid, and not organized on tribal lines. The chiefs within the
confederation had similar retinues on a smaller scale. Women held
a relatively high position and could be important political players. The
ruler consulted regularly with a council of family, chief officers and tribal
leaders, and seems to have been bound by its decisions. Regionally, the
Aqqoyunlu governed through princely appanages with a fixed share of
local revenue; princes were accompanied by an army made up of mem-
bers of different tribes.67 This system of government limited the power of
the ruler and made centralization difficult, but it allowed the nomad
confederations of eastern Anatolia to survive under often chaotic circum-
stances, and to make use of new opportunities when they arose.
67
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 14–19.
68
Beatrice F. Manz, “The Development and Meaning of Čagatay Identity,” in Muslims in
Central Asia: Expressions of Identity and Change, ed. Jo-Ann Gross (Durham: Duke
University Press, 1992), pp. 37–39; “Multi-ethnic Empires and the Formulation of
Identity,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 26, no. 1 (2003), pp. 85–87.
69
Manz, “Mongol History,” pp. 139–141; Woods, “Timur’s Genealogy,” pp. 99–100.
70
Devin A. DeWeese, Islamization and Native Religion in the Golden Horde: Baba Tükles and
Conversion to Islam in Historical and Epic Tradition (University Park: Pennsylvania State
University Press, 1994), pp. 85–86.
71
Stefan Kamola, “History and legend in the Jā mi‘ al-tawā rı̄ kh: Abraham, Alexander and
Oghuz Khan,” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 25, no. 4 (2015), pp. 557–569.
72
Wing, Jalayirids, pp. 170–174. 73 Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 17, 56.
74
Lindner, Explorations, pp. 18–23; Kafadar, Between two Worlds, pp. 94–103; Dimitris
J. Kastritsis, “The Ottoman Interregnum (1402–1413): Politics and Narratives of
Dynastic Succession” unpublished PhD dissertation, Harvard University, 2005,
pp. 35–47, 261–262.
made use of Turkmen and Tatar forces from northeastern Anatolia in his
campaigns against his brothers.75
The Timurids on the other hand, although many of their followers were
nomad, distinguished themselves from the Tajiks primarily as Turks –
people with an imperial steppe background and military prowess, which
the Tajiks were thought to lack. While the Anatolian confederations
sought to differentiate themselves from their more settled neighbors, the
Timurids faced the opposite challenge. To the north and east they bor-
dered on territory that was both more solidly nomadic and more tribal:
the decentralized Chaghadayid khanate and the rising Uzbek confeder-
ation. Thus, in distinguishing themselves from their neighbors, it made
sense to stress their superiority in culture and organization.
During the fifteenth century, religious movements arose challenging
existing rulers. In response, Turkic leaders sought to claim personal
religious charisma and to connect their heritage to the Islamic world.
The Oghuz legend, with its incorporation of Islam, neatly provided dual
legitimation to the Turkmen. The Timurids developed a new version of
the Mongol genealogical myth, which was carved on Temür’s tombstone.
Temür’s ancestry was taken back to Chinggis Khan’s mythical ancestress
Alan Go’a, said to have been impregnated by a shaft of light; this light was
now identified as the spirit of ‘Ali b. Abu Talib. Another inventive
genealogy connected the Timurids to the genealogical tree of the
Yasawi Sufi order, taking them back to ‘Ali again, now via Muhammad al-
Hanafiyya.76
75
H. Inalçik, “Mehemmed I,” EI 2nd ed.
76
Kazuo Morimoto,˙ “An Enigmatic Genealogical Chart of the Timurids: A Testimony to
the Dynasty’s Claim to Yasavi-‘Alid Legitimacy?” Oriens 44 (2016), pp. 159–172.
77
Woods, Aqquyunlu, p. 78; Hans Robert Roemer, Persien auf dem Weg in die Neuzeit:
iranische Geschichte von 1350–1750 (Beirut: Orient-Institut der Deutschen
Morgenländischen Gesellschaft, 1989), pp. 194–195.
78
Hans Robert Roemer, “The Safavid Period,” in The Cambridge History of Iran: The
Timurid and Safavid Periods, ed. Laurence Lockhart and Peter Jackson (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1986), p. 116; Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 84, 96–100.
79
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 108–110; Vladimir Minorsky, “A Civil and Military Review in
Fā rs in 881/1476,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies X (1940–1942),
pp. 172–176.
80
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 102–106, 109; Vladimir Minorsky, “The Aq-Qounlu and Land
Reforms,”Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies XVII (1955), pp. 449–450.
81
Woods, Aqquyunlu, p. 110.
82
Minorsky, “The Aq-Qoyunlu,” pp. 451–458; Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 132–135,
144–145.
83
Inalçik, “Mehemmed II,” EI 2nd ed.; Imber, The Ottoman Empire, 1300–1650,
pp. 28–33. ˙
84
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 114–129; Venzke, “Dulgadir-Mamluk,” pp. 428–429.
85
Maria E. Subtelny, “Bā bur’s Rival Relations: A Story of Kinship and Conflict in 15th–
16th Century Central Asia,” Der Islam 66, no. 1 (1989).
86
Zahı̄ r al-Dı̄ n Muhammad Babur, Baburnama: Chaghatay Turkish Text with Abdul-Rahim
˙
Khankhanan’s ˙
Persian Translation, trans. W. M. Thackston, Sources of Oriental
Languages and Literatures (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University: Department of Near
Eastern Languages and Civilizations, 1993), vol. 2, pp. 389–392.
87
Babur, Baburnama, vol. 1, pp. 131, 201–202, 220–221, 568–570, 685–690.
traditions set by the Ilkhans, who had brought in practices and goods from
the east along with new art forms. The successor dynasties created an art
of synthesis in which Chinese and Central Asian themes combined with
Islamic traditions. The Mongol heritage became something which could
be considered indigenous and became immensely popular. One major
strength of Ilkhanid patronage was the writing of history, notably the great
world chronicle of Rashid al-Din, the Jā mi‘ al-tawā rı̄ kh, which I discussed
in Chapter 5. The successors to the Ilkhanids continued the new trad-
ition, and made the late fourteenth and fifteenth century a high point for
historiography. In 1360, soon after taking Azerbaijan, Shaykh Uways
Jalayir had a universal history written for him, the Tā rı̄ kh-i Shaykh
Uways, modeled on the Jā mi‘al-tawā rı̄ kh, but bringing the story up to
the present. Here the Ilkhans and the Jalayirids follow earlier states in the
Islamic world; at the same time, their history is seen within the frame of
a continuing Mongol Empire, whose history continues outside the central
Islamic lands.88 The Timurid rulers were even more active in the patron-
age of historical works. At the court of Shahrukh, the historian Hafiz-i
Abru collected the histories of earlier times, including Rashid al-Din,
adding the history of Temür’s and Shahrukh’s period. Later Timurid
historians, notably Mirkhwand and the hugely popular Khwandamir,
who began his career under Husayn-i Bayqara, carried the project of
universal history into their own time.89 The Turkmen dynasties also
commissioned histories; most of these were more limited in scope and
presented their patrons as heirs to the Oghuz tradition, thus also recog-
nizing the steppe as relevant to their history but not embracing the
Mongol worldview.90
Another innovation of the Mongols was the development of the Persian
miniature, illustrating historical and literary works. After the fall of the
Ilkhans, a few courts in Iran – the Inju’ids and Muzaffarids in Shiraz, and
the Jalayirids in Tabriz and Baghdad continued to produce miniatures.91
As new conquerors took over these cities, they employed many of the
same people; the Timurid prince Iskandar Sultan presided over a brilliant
court in Shiraz, while the Qaraqoyunlu continued the artistic traditions of
88
C. A. Storey and Yuri Bregel, Persidskaia literatura, bio-bibliograficheskiı̆ obzor, 3 vols.
(Moscow: Nauka, 1972), p. 337.
89
John E. Woods, “The Rise of Tı̄ mū rı̄ d Historiography,” Journal of Near Eastern Studies
46, no. 2 (1987).
90
C. P. Melville, “Between Tabriz and Herat: Persian Historical Writing in the 15th
Century,” in Iran und iranisch geprägte Kulturen, ed. Ralph Kauz, Birgitt Hoffmann,
and Markus Ritter (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 2008), pp. 30–33.
91
Linda Komaroff and Stefano Carboni, The Legacy of Genghis Khan: Courtly Art and
Culture in Western Asia, 1256–1353 (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art; New
Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2002), pp. 47, 60, 108, 223–225.
92
Nazan Ölçer, “The Anatolian Seljuks,” in Turks: A Journey of a Thousand Years, ed.
David Roxburgh (London: Royal Academy of Arts, 2005), pp. 118–119;
W. M. Thackston, Album Prefaces and Other Documents on the History of Calligraphers
and Painters (Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 8, 13.
93
B. W. Robinson, Fifteenth-Century Persian Painting: Problems and Issues (New York:
New York University Press, 1991), pp. 3–44.
94
Alessio Bombaci, Histoire de la litérature turque (Paris: C. Klincksieck, 1968), pp. 177,
225–242.
Conclusion
When the Ilkhans fell, Mongol Khans still ruled over much of the former
empire, and throughout its territory only descendants of Chinggis Khan
had the right to claim sovereign power. Over the fourteenth century,
however, tribal leaders gained strength. Chinggisid rule was not finished,
but it was deeply fragmented and in many places had given way to either
settled or tribal powers. Within the central Islamic lands actual
Chinggisid rule ended with the Ilkhans, though power remained largely
in the hands of nomads or rulers of nomad provenance. Nomads
remained a significant proportion of the population and, for most states,
a majority within the military.
In earlier centuries, nomads had arrived in the Middle East from
Central Asia, and as migration succeeded migration, many moved into
Anatolia. After the fall of the Ilkhans, the movement of nomad popula-
tions went the other way, from Anatolia into Iraq and Iran. The conquest
of Iran by the Qaraqoyunlu and the Aqqoyunlu transformed its ethnic and
political geography. Under the Seljukids and Mongols, most Turkic and
Mongol nomads had congregated in the northern pastures; now
Turkmen became numerous also in southern Iran. There was a change
likewise in the social and political organization of many nomads. The
Seljukids, Ilkhans and Timurids had all used non-tribal armies and for
much of their rule had suppressed tribes as power centers. In Anatolia,
a decentralized system developed during the fourteenth century, in which
tribes again became central to military and political activity. The
Turkmen dynasties brought this system into Iran, making tribalism an
important element in both military and provincial administration.
The Mongol destruction of the caliphate had opened the way both to
the conversion of Mongol rulers and to the creation of independent
sovereign states in the Middle East. It was no longer necessary to retain
the capital in Baghdad, with its depleted agricultural resources, or to pay
lip service to an undivided Islamic empire. The new regional states were
all in some way connected to the steppe heritage and continued to use it.
Most also sought to connect themselves with the memory of the
Ilkhanate, which held prestige as a part of the Mongol Empire and for
its brilliant cultural achievements, imitated by its successors.
The court culture of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was highly
sophisticated, but it did not return to the classical pre-Mongol models.
New forms and motifs remained along with a broader world view. Turkic
written in the Arabic alphabet joined Arabic and Persian as a language of
high culture. By the end of the fifteenth century, Turks had become
indigenous to the Middle East, and the imperial traditions of the steppe
had become intertwined with those of the Arabs and the Persians.
168
1
Adel Allouche, The Origins and Development of the Ottoman-Safavid Conflict (906–
962/1500–1555) (Berlin: Schwarz, 1983), pp. 41–47. ˙
became the identifying mark of Safavid devotees, and won them the
epithet Qizilbash – red head – by which they later became known.2
A number of early Iranian religious beliefs had survived in the Middle
East and combined with Sufi and Shi‘ite ideas to create a set of doctrines
usually characterized as ghuluww (extremism). These included the doc-
trine of a living mahdi – a messiah. Such beliefs found a following in
Anatolia and parts of Syria, and among the populations they attracted
were many members of the Turkmen tribes.3 Scholarship on the early
Safavid movement is in flux. Most writers have portrayed the following of
Junayd and Haydar as a radical Shi‘ite order whose leader was at once
a religious leader and commander over a sizeable Turkmen army of
believers.4 According to the Aqqoyunlu historian Khunji Isfahani,
Junayd’s followers openly called Junayd God and continued to consider
him living after his physical death.5 However, both the extreme Shi‘ite
views of Junayd and Haydar and the centrality of the Turkmen in their
armies have recently been called into question, and some see the early
Safavid following as an army of ghā zı̄ s from a variety of backgrounds.6
Over the course of Haydar’s career, Uzun Hasan Aqqoyunlu took over
western and central Iran. Despite Haydar’s marriage alliance with the
dynasty, Safavid and Aqqoyunlu interests soon began to diverge, and in
1488 Haydar was killed fighting the Aqqoyunlu.7 As the Aqqoyunlu
descended into civil war, Haydar’s youngest son Isma‘il took refuge in
Lahijan in the Caspian mountains where he was protected and given
a religious education by the elders of the Safavid order.8 In 1499, at the
age of twelve, Isma‘il left Lahijan for Ardabil with seven powerful mem-
bers of his entourage and a few hundred followers. Numerous Qizilbash
devotees had remained loyal to the order throughout Azerbaijan, eastern
2
Shahzad Bashir, “The Origins and Rhetorical Evolution of the Term Qizilbā sh in
Persianate Literature,” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient 57, no. 3
(2014).
3
Kathryn Babayan, Mystics, Monarchs, and Messiahs: Cultural Landscapes of Early Modern
Iran (Cambridge, MA: Distributed for the Center for Middle Eastern Studies of Harvard
University by Harvard University Press, 2002), pp. XV–XXIV.
4
Allouche, Origins, pp. 30–39.
5
Ali Anooshahr, Turkestan and the Rise of Eurasian Empires: A Study of Politics and Invented
Traditions (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), p. 78.
6
Anooshahr, Turkestan and the Rise of Eurasian Empires, pp. 56–83; Ayfer Karakaya-Stump,
“Subjects of the Sultan, Disciples of the Shah: Formation and Transformation of the
Kiszilbash/Alevi Communities in Ottoman Anatolia” (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University, 2008), pp. 172–181.
7
Allouche, Origins, pp. 50–53; Michel M. Mazzaoui, The Origins of the Safawids: Šı̄ ‘ism,
Sū fism and the Ġ ulā t (Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1972), pp. 75–77. ˙
8 ˙
Jean Aubin, “Révolution chiite et conservatisme. Les soufis de Lâhejân, 1500–1514
(Études Safavides II),” Moyen Orient et Océan Indien. Middle East and Indian Ocean
XVIe–XIXe siècles 1 (1984), pp. 2–8.
Anatolia and Syria; now Isma‘il set out to gather them around himself. In
the spring of 1500, he moved through the pasturelands of northern
Azerbaijan. Having started out with only a few hundred soldiers, by the
end of the summer he had an army of about 7,000.9 After several success-
ful battles, he entered Tabriz in the summer of 1501 and was crowned as
Shah. By 1510 he had conquered Baghdad and most of Iran.
Isma‘il now stood both at the head of a Sufi order which was at the same
time a largely nomadic army, and at the head of an evolving state. The
Qizilbash were organized into large political and religious communities
called oymaq. Although many oymaqs included numerous named sub-
groups, the term is usually translated as tribe, and I shall follow that
practice here. Some oymaqs, like the Qajar, the Afshar and the Dhu’l
Qadr, came from existing tribes or confederations which had converted
to the Safavid cause. Others, like the Tekkelu, Rumlu and Shamlu, seem
to have been new, based probably on regional populations. While most
Qizilbash seem to have been Turkmen, some sedentary villagers or
townsmen were included within the oymaqs. After Shah Isma‘il’s acces-
sion, membership in the Safavid order was limited to members of the
oymaqs; the newly conquered populations were excluded.10
The Qizilbash had a strong communal culture centered on absolute
loyalty to their leader. Isma‘il enjoyed great personal charisma as a poet,
warrior, and king. In his poetry, written in Turkish, he presented himself
as the reincarnation of earlier prophets and kings, while many of his
followers considered him one with God.11 At this time it is clear that
ghuluww mysticism and apocalyptic thought were central to the
movement.12 Despite his claim to divinity, the shah did not keep aloof
from his followers; he passed on booty and wealth and took part in large
communal feasts with heavy public drinking.13 Isma‘il created a new
religious office, that of khalı̄ fa al-khulafā – chief deputy. Below him were
numerous other khalı̄ fas, one to each of the tribal sections, and to villages
and districts even beyond his actual realm, since the Safavids retained
numerous adherents in Anatolia.14
9
Jean Aubin, “L’avènement des Safavides reconsidéré,” Moyen Orient et Océan Indien.
Middle East and Indian Ocean XVIe–XIXe siècles 5 (1988), pp. 9–15; Masashi Haneda, Le
châh et les Qizilbā š: le système militaire safavide (Berlin: K. Schwarz, 1987), pp. 63–64.
10
Martin Dickson, “Sháh Tahmásb and the Úzbeks (The Duel for Khurásán with ‘Ubayd
Khán: 930–46/1524–1540),” ˙ unpublished PhD dissertation, Princeton University
(1958), pp. 6–8, 266–267; Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 13, 164.
11
Babayan, Mystics, Monarchs, pp. xxviii–xxxii.
12
Colin P. Mitchell, The Practice of Politics in Safavid Iran: Power, Religion and Rhetoric
(London: I. B. Tauris, 2009), pp. 19–38.
13
Aubin, “L’avènement,” pp. 43–53, 62–63.
14
Willem Floor, “The Khalifeh al-Kholafa of the Safavid Sufi Order,” Zeitschrift der deutchen
morgenländischen Gesellschaft 153, no. 1 (2003): pp. 52–53.
15
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 163–166. 16
Roemer, “The Safavid Period,” pp. 218–219.
17 18
Woods, Aqquyunlu, pp. 158–159. Haneda, Le châh, pp. 46–50, 104–110.
the military structure and also organized tribally. Qizilbash emirs were
appointed to governorships, providing troops for local defense, while land
grants and provincial holdings provided upkeep for their soldiers. In the
early Safavid period the Qizilbash appointed as governors over provinces
were often chiefs of their oymaq; if they were not, the governorship usually
brought with it the appointment to lead the tribe as well.19 Oymaqs were
allotted specific territories known as ulka, which provided income and
pasture.20 Until the reign of Shah ‘Abbas almost all regions of the realm
were governed by tribal leaders.21
At this time governors of provinces usually appointed subordinate
officials, held judicial power, and retained much of the income of the
province.22 When the shah or his delegates set out on a major campaign
they called on the governors to join the army with their contingents.23
Some governorships came to be considered the property of a specific
tribe; the Dhu’l Qadr retained Fars for several generations, the Qajars
were governors of Ganja and parts of Azerbaijan, while the Afshar held on
to the governorships of Kerman and Kuh-Giluya with neighboring
regions.24 However, despite the close connection between oymaqs and
provincial rule, tribal territories and provincial governorships were not
identical. Qizilbash and other officials were given land grants as a source
of income, and these were not necessarily in the province governed by the
chief of the tribe. Thus, the regional power of individual tribes was
diluted.25
Up to the middle of the Safavid period, tribal chiefs were convened at
important junctures to decide the affairs of state, and they considered this
part of their function.26 The shahs attached the Qizilbash elite to the
19
Klaus Röhrborn, Provinzen und Zentralgewalt Persiens im 16. und 17. Jahrhunder (Berlin:
de Gruyter, 1966), p. 25.
20
Vladimir Minorsky, Tadhkirat al-mulū k: a manual of Safavid administration (circa 1137/
˙ Gibb memorial series (London:
1725), Persian text in facsimile (B.M. Or. 9496), E. J. W.
Luzac, 1980), pp. 14–15, 27, 86; Aubin, “L’avènement,” p. 29; Dickson, “Sháh
Tahmásb,” pp. 6–8, 13.
21 ˙
Röhrborn, Provinzen, pp. 18–19, 24, 29.
22
Röhrborn, Provinzen, pp. 24–27, 54–55, 61.
23
Röhrborn, Provinzen, pp. 44–48; Dickson, “Sháh Tahmásb,” pp. 13, 65–66, 93, 134.
24
Röhrborn, Provinzen, pp. 4, 10, 31. ˙
25
Röhrborn, Provinzen, p. 54; Minorsky, Tadhkirat al-mulū k, pp. 27–28, 85–87;
Maria Szuppe, Entre Timourides, Uzbeks et Safavides: questions d’histoire politique et
sociale de Hérat dans la première moitié du XVIe siècle (Paris: Association pour
l’avancement des études iraniennes, 1992), p. 37; Maria Szuppe, “Kinship Ties
between the Safavids and the Qizilbash Amirs in Late Sixteenth-Century Iran:
A Case Study of the Political Career of Members of the Sharaf al-Din Oghli
Tekelu Family,” in Safavid Persia: The History and Politics of an Islamic Society, ed.
Charles Melville (London: I. B. Tauris, 1996), p. 87.
26
Haneda, Le châh, pp. 94–97, 207; Röhrborn, Provinzen, p. 31.
27
Szuppe, “Kinship Ties”; Andrew J. Newman, Safavid Iran: Rebirth of a Persian Empire
(London: I. B. Tauris, 2006), pp. 15, 29, 40, 45, 54.
28
Röhrborn, Provinzen, p. 25; Szuppe, “Kinship Ties,” pp. 81–85, 89.
29
Daniel T. Potts, Nomadism in Iran, From Antiquity to the Modern Era (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2014), pp. 228–247; Marina Kunke, Nomadenstämme in Persien im 18.
und 19. Jahrhundert (Berlin: K. Schwarz, 1991), pp. 132–144.
30
Röhrborn, Provinzen, pp. 73–88.
31
Minorsky, Tadhkirat al-mulū k, pp. 44, 112; Rudi Matthee, Persia in Crisis: Safavid Decline
and the Fall of Isfahan (London: I. B. Tauris, 2012), pp. 143, 227.
32
Mitchell, Practice of Politics, pp. 19–52. 33 Aubin, “L’avènement,” pp. 115–118.
34
Roger Savory, Iran under the Safavids (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980),
pp. 50–51.
35
Dickson, “Sháh Tahmásb,” pp. 18, 52–66; Haneda, Le châh, pp. 170, 178–179.
36
Savory, Iran under˙ the Safavids, pp. 52–54; Dickson, “Sháh Tahmásb,” pp. 67–68.
37
Dickson, “Sháh Tahmásb,” pp. 197–201. ˙
38
Savory, Iran under˙ the Safavids, pp. 55–56, 61; Dickson, “Sháh Tahmásb,” pp. 200–202,
265–295, 340–357. ˙
39
Haneda, Le châh, pp. 168–180; Savory, Iran under the Safavids, pp. 64–66.
40
Savory, Iran under the Safavids, pp. 70–75.
41
Minorsky, Tadhkirat al-mulū k, pp. 32–33; Haneda, Le châh, pp. 184–197.
42
Tapper, Frontier Nomads, pp. 36–37, 49–51, 83–87.
43
Röhrborn, Provinzen, pp. 29–33; Haneda, Le châh, pp. 206–207.
44
Rudi Matthee, “Relations between the Center and the Periphery in Safavid Iran: The
Western Borderlands v. the Eastern Frontier Zone,” The Historian (2015), pp. 435–436.
45
Röhrborn, Provinzen, p. 31; Minorsky, Tadhkirat al-mulū k, pp. 16–18.
Zuhab in 1639. With this agreement the Safavids gave up several western
regions and implicitly acknowledged Ottoman military superiority. The
consequent reduction in military forces did indeed diminish the role that
the Qizilbash played in politics, but it did so at the expense of Safavid
power in general.52
Shah ‘Abbas achieved great success during his reign, but he set the
dynasty on a course which bought centralization at the price of weakness,
and by moving nomad groups to the borders he actually contributed to
the resurgence of local tribal power. The new crown lands were ruthlessly
exploited through governors and tax farmers whose tenure was kept short
to prevent the formation of new power centers. Unlike the oymaq chiefs
who had held hereditary tiyuls and therefore had a long-term interest in
the land, the new officials often bought their office and had to recoup their
expenses quickly.53 Many scholars have presented the Safavid move
against tribal power and towards centralization as a success, citing the
reduced power of the Qizilbash. However, we need to distinguish the
position of the major Qizilbash oymaqs as a force within the state from
the strength of nomads and tribes in general.54 The history of the
eighteenth century clearly shows the fragility of Safavid centralization
and the continued power of pastoralists in Iran.
After the reign of Shah ‘Abbas, the largest Safavid oymaqs did play
a smaller part; the Ustajlu, Rumlu, and Turkman largely disappear from
the histories, as do the Dhu’l Qadr and the Mawsillu, who had previously
held significant regional power, while the Tekkelu and Shamlu appear to
have survived in a reduced position.55 Two of the original Qizilbash
oymaqs, the Qajars and the Afshars, gained strength in the later Safavid
period. The Afshars became strongly ensconced around Mashhad in
Khorasan and in Kerman, while the Qajars retained some territory in
Azerbaijan, as well as Mazandaran and Marw. Both tribes undoubtedly
benefited from their position on the borders of the realm. Other nomadic
powers which had never been part of the Qizilbash increased their stand-
ing. The Lurs retained their autonomy, and we see the rise of the
Bakhtiyari section, whose leaders had become governors under Shah
Tahmasp.56 In return for an annual payment in mules, Bakhtiyari gover-
nors had the right to collect taxes in Dizful and Shushtar. In the later
52
Matthee, Persia in Crisis, pp. 117–118.
53
Matthee, Persia in Crisis, p. 149; John Foran, “The Long Fall of the Safavid Dynasty:
Moving beyond the Standard View,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 24
(1992), pp. 286–287.
54
See Matthee, “Relations.”
55
John R. Perry, Karı̄ m Khā n Zand: A History of Iran, 1747–1779 (Chicago, IL: University
of Chicago Press, 1979), p. 19.
56
Matthee, Persia in Crisis, p. 149.
Safavid period they were the major suppliers of nomad products to the
capital city of Isfahan, and they were a valuable source of soldiers in the
final struggles of the dynasty.57
Nomadic groups on the borders also began both to raid and to enter
into the politics of the Safavid state. Two groups of tribal and partially
nomadic people on disputed borders – the Kurds on the Ottoman border,
and the Afghans on the borders of the Mughal Empire – expanded and
organized under the Safavids. By the seventeenth century they had devel-
oped an indigenous literature and identity, along with stronger internal
political structures. During the last three decades of Safavid rule raids by
these peoples were constant and destructive, reaching well inside the
borders.
57
Gene R. Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs: A Documentary Analysis of the Bakhtiyari in Iran
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), pp. 49–51.
1522 the Dhu’l Qadr confederation was disbanded, leading to six years of
rebellion in their territory. Selim deliberately repressed the Qizilbash; all
known members were registered, a number were massacred, and some
others imprisoned. Large numbers crossed into Azerbaijan to serve the
Safavids, while many of those who remained in Anatolia and Diyar Bakr
still considered themselves under the authority of the Safavid khalı̄ fa.58
The Ottomans brought most of their new nomad populations into their
administrative system. Syria, eastern Anatolia and much of the Kurdish
region were surveyed shortly after the conquest and organized under the
existing timar/sanjak system. Egypt, Baghdad, Basra and most of the Arabian
Peninsula remained outside. The timar was an institution similar to the iqta‘:
grants of land revenue in return for service. Timar holders had to appear on
campaign with armed cavalries calculated according to the size of their
holding. Timars were organized into sub-provinces, known as sanjaks, and
put under military officials. In conquered territories, the Ottomans distrib-
uted land to their own servitors but also granted military status – including
the right to hold a timar – to the local elites, including pastoralists; this was
done in Karaman, the territories of the Dhu’l Qadr, and the smaller Kurdish
principalities, as well as parts of Syria.59 In population registers nomads were
distinguished from settled populations, each subject to a different set of
taxes. While settled communities remained within one sanjak, nomads
who migrated between summer and winter pastures often crossed borders.
Although the Ottoman administration was theoretically consistent, in
practice it conformed to local conditions. Syria was within the timar system,
but government control faded out as one progressed into the desert. Some
nomad tribes appear not to have been assigned to a timar, owing their taxes
directly to the governor or the central government – if they paid at all. Others
were simply not included in the registers. The Bedouin regions of ‘Ajlun in
Transjordan, parts of Hawran, and Tadmur in northern Syria appear not to
have been directly under Ottoman fiscal control.60
For most nomad regions the sixteenth century was a period of increas-
ing incorporation and control, much of which was reversed in the follow-
ing centuries.61 The seventeenth century was a time of stress for the
58
Roemer, “The Safavid Period,” pp. 221–223; Floor, “Khalifeh al-Kholafa,” pp. 64, 71–72.
59
Halil Inalcik, “Tı̄ mā r,” EI 2nd ed.; Bruce Masters, “Egypt and Syria under the
Ottomans,” in The New Cambridge History of Islam, vol. 2. The Western Islamic World
Eleventh to Eighteenth Centuries, ed. Maribel Fierro (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010), pp. 415–416.
60
Wolf D. Hütteroth, “Ottoman Administration of the Desert Frontier in the Sixteenth
Century,” Asian and African Studies 19 (1985).
61
Masters, “Egypt and Syria under the Ottomans,” pp. 411–421; Bernard Haykel, “Western
Arabia and Yemen during the Ottoman Period,” in New Cambridge History of Islam, vol. 2. The
Western Islamic World Eleventh to Eighteenth Centuries, ed. Maribel Fierro (Cambridge:
Ottomans. Control over the desert and the Jazira was threatened by the
migration of Bedouin confederations from the Arabian Peninsula. The most
important was the ‘Anaza, which had become preeminent in the Najd region
of the Arabian Peninsula in the sixteenth century, but in the seventeenth
century was challenged by new arrivals. From the middle of the century,
groups of the ‘Anaza began to move into the Syrian desert where they
replaced the Mawali tribe, which had accepted Ottoman payment and
kept peace in the Syrian desert.62 As the ‘Anaza moved into their new
territories, they competed for pasture and the control of trade routes, causing
increased disorder among the tribes and the movement of nomads into both
eastern and central Anatolia.
The Ottomans attempted to increase their control over nomads, some-
times openly and violently, and sometimes more subtly. Ottoman policies
encouraged the expansion of settled agriculture, and farmers began to take
over marginal lands including nomad pasture. However, the 1590s saw the
onset of the Little Ice Age with exceptional cold and drought, affecting both
agriculture and pastoralism. The change in climate may have contributed to
the outbreak of the destructive Jelali Rebellion in Anatolia, which lasted from
1596–1610. These factors, along with the increase in population due to
competition over pasture in northern Syria, brought a wave of nomad move-
ment from eastern Anatolia westwards into central Anatolia, and a dramatic
increase in nomad pillaging of farmland, particularly in the marginal lands at
the edge of the steppe, some of which had been their pastures. This situation
is reported through much of Anatolia, the Jazira and northern Syria.63
In reaction, the Ottomans attempted policies of forcible settlement,
military conscription and heavy taxation, causing more westward move-
ment. Anatolian population and agriculture were slow to recover, with
much land remaining in nomad hands, and at the end of the seventeenth
century the government began a concerted program of nomad settlement,
moving nomads to new lands and demanding that they cultivate them. At
about the same time, a new policy of conscripting populations seen as
unsettled – including both nomads and brigands – to man garrison
fortresses served to suppress pastoral migration.64 Another Ottoman
policy, less coercive, but more constant and pervasive, was the move to
Cambridge University Press 2010), pp. 441–445; Tom Sinclair, “The Ottoman
Arrangements for the Tribal Principalities of the Lake Van Region of the Sixteenth
Century,” International Journal of Turkish Studies 9, no. 1–2 (2003), pp. 140–143.
62
Uwaidah M. al Juhany, Najd before the Salafi Reform Movement (Reading, UK: Ithaca
Press, 2002), pp. 65, 69.
63
Sam White, The Climate of Rebellion in the Early Modern Ottoman Empire (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2011), pp. 42–43, 70–72, 130–132, 229–242.
64
Reşat Kasaba, A Moveable Empire: Ottoman Nomads, Migrants, and Refugees (Seattle:
University of Washington Press, 2009), pp. 53–54, 65–68; Halil Inalcik, “The Yürüks,
register and control summer and winter pastures. Although it was recog-
nized that nomad groups might have to cross sanjak lines in their migra-
tions, the government preferred to keep them within one administrative
area and above all tried to avoid variation in the use of pasture. These
limitations sometimes caused hardship for pastoralists and for the leaders
attempting to maintain control within nomad regions.65 Over time, the
policy undoubtedly favored sedentarization, and at the end of the seven-
teenth century the Ottomans made several direct attempts to settle
nomads on the land.66
Their Origins, Expansion and Economic Role,” in Oriental Carpet and Textile Studies, ed.
R. Pinner and H. Inalcik (London: HALI, 1986), pp. 46–48.
65
Inalcik, “The Yürüks,” pp. 49–50; Rhoads Murphy, “Some Features of Nomadism in
the Ottoman Empire: A Survey Based on Tribal Census and Judicial Appeal
Documentation from Archives in Istanbul and Damascus,” Journal of Turkish Studies 8
(1984), pp. 195–196.
66
Kasaba, Moveable Empire, pp. 72–76. 67 Matthee, Persia in Crisis, pp. 143–144.
68
Rudi Matthee, “The Safavid-Ottoman Frontier: Iraq-i Arab as Seen by the Safavids,” in
Ottoman Borderlands: Issues, Personalities and Political Changes, ed. Kemal Karpat and
72
Rhoads Murphy, “The Resumption of Ottoman-Safavid Border Conflict, 1603–1638:
Effects of Border Destabilization on the Evolution of Tribe-State Relations,” in Shifts and
Drifts in Nomad-Sedentary Relations, ed. Stefan Leder and Bernard Streck (Wiesbaden:
Reichert, 2005), pp. 307–323.
73
Matthee, Persia in Crisis, pp. 206–41. For a divergent view, see Newman, Safavid Iran,
pp. 104–106, 116.
and took Isfahan. They followed their victory with a campaign through
much of Iran, but their armies met continued resistance. Unfortunately
for Iran, the fall of the Safavids left behind several evenly matched powers,
whose leaders fought for control through the rest of the century.
A number of Baluch and Afghan groups were active in Iran, and several
internal tribes also aimed for preeminence, most notably the Qajars,
centered primarily in Mazandaran and Astarabad, the Afshars of
Khorasan, and the Lur tribes between Isfahan, Khuzistan and Shiraz.
After the fall of Isfahan to the Afghans, most opponents gathered
around the Safavid prince Tahmasp, son of the last reigning Safavid
monarch, who found support among several nomad groups –
Bakhtiyari, Shahsevan and Qajar.74 After 1726, Nadir Afshar, whose
tribe was centered in western Khorasan, emerged as Shah Tahmasp’s
most important ally. For the next six years he campaigned alongside
Tahmasp, while the balance of power between them gradually changed.
In 1729 they retook Isfahan from the Ghilzay Afghans. In 1732 Nadir
Shah deposed Tahmasp, and in 1736 he felt secure enough to claim the
title of shah for himself.75
Nadir Shah was a man in a hurry. After deposing Tahmasp he campaigned
against the Ottomans and took Baghdad, then headed to Azerbaijan and the
Caucasus. In 1736 he moved southeast, conquering Qandahar, then Delhi in
March 1738. From there he proceeded to take Kabul, then Sind. By the fall of
1740 he was attacking Bukhara and Khiva. Like the earlier conqueror
Tamerlane, Nadir did not attempt to retain his most distant conquests;
neither India nor Central Asia became part of his realm.76 Unlike Temür,
however, he failed to consolidate his gains to form a working state.
Nadir’s army was both modern and traditional. He expanded the guard
regiment and created an effective artillery corps with modern firearms. He
mustered an extraordinarily large army, considering the condition of his
realm. In addition to peasants and the tribal groups within Iran, he
enlisted Afghans, Baluch, Uzbeks, Turkmen, and also Lezghis from the
Caucasus. Nonetheless, the basic structure of his army resembled that of
the Safavids. The cavalry still made up most of the army and remained
tribally organized. Indeed, Nadir used group rivalries within the army to
promote greater zeal in battle.77
74
Newman, Safavid Iran, pp. 124–125.
75
Peter Avery, “Nā dir Shā h and the Afsharid Legacy,” in Cambridge History of Iran, vol. 7.
From Nadir Shah to the Islamic Republic, ed. Gavin Hambly, Peter Avery, Charles Melville
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), pp. 29–31.
76
“Nā dir Shā h and the Afsharid Legacy,” pp. 31–42.
77
Michael Axworthy, “The Army of Nader Shah,” Iranian Studies 40, no. 5 (2007),
pp. 639–643.
78
Michael Axworthy, The Sword of Persia: Nader Shah, from Tribal Warrior to Conquering
Tyrant (London: I. B. Tauris 2006), pp. 107–111, 127–130, 142–143.
79
Perry, “Forced Migration,” pp. 208–210.
80
Axworthy, Sword of Persia, pp. 258–263.
81
Cornell H. Fleischer, Bureaucrat and Intellectual in the Ottoman Empire: The Historian Mustafa
Âli (1541–1600) (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986), pp. 275–279, 283–286.
Safavid shaykhs, and indeed had granted them waqf land in almost all
areas of his dominion – thus legitimating Safavid rule over the former
Timurid realm.82 Throughout the seventeenth century, legends of
Temür’s connection to the Safavids proliferated: we have an account
of a prophetic dream narrated by the Imam ‘Ali to the head of the
Safavid order, and of the rediscovery of Temür’s sword, supposedly
given to Shah ‘Abbas’s successor, Shah Safi.83
Nadir Shah used both religious and Turco-Mongolian sources of legit-
imation, emphasizing ties with the Safavid house, and likewise with
Tamerlane.84 Just as Temür had imitated the actions of Chinggis Khan,
Nadir recalled Temür’s career in his choice of regions to conquer and the
brutality of his methods. He claimed Iraq as a territory that had belonged
to Temür; he also named his grandsons after members of the Timurid
house. A dynastic chronicle recounts a story offering supernatural evi-
dence that Nadir should be seen as Temür’s successor. While camped
near the fortress of Kalat, where Temür had achieved a significant victory,
Nadir awoke at night and noticed a glow on the mountainside. Seeking
this out he discovered a hidden treasure and an inscription identifying it as
having belonged to Temür and stating that he who arrived there would be
the Sā hib Qirā n (Lord of the Fortunate Conjunction), a title that had been
˙ ˙
held earlier by Temür.85
Nadir Shah introduced a major innovation in his attempt to reformu-
late Turkic identity, erasing the distinction between the western Turks
and those who shared the legacy of the Mongol Empire. The term
“Turkmen” had previously denoted the Oghuz; now Nadir used the
term to denote all Turks as inheritors of sovereignty. To justify his stance
and claim a common heritage with the Ottomans, he invoked the history
of Chinggis Khan:
In the time of Chingiz Khan, the leaders of the Turkman tribes, who had left the
land of Turan and migrated to Iran and Anatolia, were said to be all of one stock
and one lineage. At that time, the exalted ancestor of the dynasty of the ever-
increasing state [the Ottoman Empire] headed to Anatolia and our ancestor
settled in the provinces of Iran. Since these lineages are interwoven and
82
Maria Szuppe, “L’évolution de l’image de Timour et des Timourides dans l’historiogra-
phie safavide, XVIe–XVIIIe siècles,” in L’héritage timouride Iran – Asie centrale – Inde
XVe–XVIIIe siècles, ed. Maria Szuppe, Cahiers d’Asie centrale ¾ (Tashkent; Aix-en-
Provence, 1997), pp. 315–322; Sholeh Alysia Quinn, Historical Writing during the Reign
of Shah ‘Abbas: Ideology, Imitation, and Legitimacy in Safavid Chronicles (Salt Lake City:
University of Utah Press, 2000), pp. 45, 85.
83
Quinn, Historical Writing, pp. 87–89; Szuppe, “L’évolution,” pp. 322–324.
84
Ernest Tucker, Nadir Shah’s Quest for Legitimacy in Post-Safavid Iran (Gainesville:
University Press of Florida, 2006), p. 13; Axworthy, Sword of Persia, p. 281.
85
Tucker, Nadir Shah’s Quest, pp. 9–10, 13, 37–38, 68–75.
interconnected, it is hoped that when his royal highness learns of them, he will give
royal consent to the establishment of peace between [us].86
In a letter presented to the Ottomans after his assumption of the title of shah
in 1736 Nadir claimed legitimacy simply as a Turk, stating that “kingship is
the ancestral right of the exalted Turkmen tribe.”87 Thus the rulers of the
regional states – the Chinggisid khans of Khiva, the Timurid/Chinggisid
Mughals, the Ottomans, and Nadir himself, all had equal legitimacy.
86
Tucker, Nadir Shah’s Quest, p. 37. 87 Tucker, Nadir Shah’s Quest, p. 39.
88
Tucker, Nadir Shah’s Quest, p. 110.
89
John Perry, “The Zand Dynasty,” in The Cambridge History of Iran, vol. 7, ed. Gavin
Hambly et al. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), pp. 85, 95–96.
90
Perry, “The Zand Dynasty,” pp. 95–102.
91
Eugene Rogan, The Arabs: A History (New York: Basic Books, 2009), pp. 45–49.
92
Madawi al-Rasheed, A History of Saudi Arabia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2010), pp. 14–18.
93
al-Rasheed, A History, p. 19; Alexei Vassiliev, The History of Saudi Arabia (London: Saqi
Books, 1998), pp. 89–93, 112–126.
By the end of the eighteenth century the Wahhabis had taken the
Holy Cities and destroyed much of the Ottoman hold on the Arabian
Peninsula, and their impact was felt well beyond. Although some
nomads accepted their leadership, others did not. Various sections
of the great Shammar confederation chose different sides, and those
who did not want to join the Wahhabis began to migrate first into
Iraq and then into the Jazira. By the end of the century, they were
strongly established in their new regions and largely autonomous.94
Tribes from the Arab Peninsula also entered southern Iraq and the
province of Baghdad, strengthening nomad power at the expense of
the Mamluk emirs who ruled the province largely independent of
Ottoman control. Despite numerous attacks on the tribes, the gov-
ernment was unable to dislodge them or to provide security on the
routes by themselves.95 Much of Iraq’s hinterland was effectively
under tribal and largely nomad control.
94
Bruce Masters, “Semi-autonomous Forces in the Arab Provinces,” in The Cambridge
History of Turkey, vol. 3. The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603–1839, ed. Suraiya N. Faroqhi
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), p. 190; M. al-Rasheed, “Shammar,”
EI 2nd ed.
95
Hala Mundhir Fattah, The Politics of Regional Trade in Iraq, Arabia, and the Gulf, 1745–
1900 (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997), pp. 28–41.
96
Willem M. Floor, The Economy of Safavid Persia, Iran-Turan Bd. 1 (Wiesbaden: Reichert,
2000), p. 8; Matthee, Persia in Crisis, p. 6; Kunke, Nomadenstämme p. 18.
Baghdad and Aleppo provinces, and about 32 percent for Basra.97 Thus
some Ottoman regions may have equaled or even surpassed the Safavid
ratio of nomad to settled population.
Not surprisingly, nomads played a particularly crucial role in transport
and trade – both regional and long distance. Camels were the most import-
ant animal for transport; they were used not only in caravans, but also often
in delivering taxes paid in kind. Given that the annual pilgrimage caravans
passing through the Syrian and Arabian deserts required up to 40,000
camels, we should recognize the huge numbers needed for trade and
pilgrimage together. Nomads also played an important part in guiding
caravans and in maintaining security on the roads.98 The official pilgrim-
age caravans, crucial to the prestige of the Ottoman state, were heavily
dependent on nomad services and cooperation. First of all, pilgrims
required water when passing through the deserts of Syria and Arabia,
and the Bedouins had to be persuaded to share this scarce resource with
them. Second, supplies needed by pilgrims as they passed through barren
terrain were usually transported by Bedouin and deposited in storehouses
along the road. And finally, pilgrims always required an escort. In return
for these services, tribes received remuneration, usually regular subsidies,
and to ensure loyalty their shaykhs were often given insignia and titles.99
The provisioning of the capital with sheep for meat and dairy products also
depended in part on nomads. Most sheep came from the northern and
western regions, but Anatolia was also an important source and was
sometimes called upon for as many as 60,000 sheep at a time.100
In border and desert regions not fully incorporated into Ottoman
government, administration was often in the hands of the tribal shaykhs
who were responsible for maintaining order and imposing the law over
their tribesmen. Tribes controlled recognized areas, known as their dı̄ ra,
within which they collected taxes and provided security. The tax they
collected was called khuwwa; this is often translated as “protection
money” but literally means brotherliness and implied some commonality
of interest and identity. Tribes also collected tolls from travelers passing
through their regions; these were also called khuwwa. Khuwwa should not
be understood simply as a tax of the nomad on the settled. It was also paid
97
Ömer Lûtfi Barkan, “Research on the Ottoman Fiscal Surveys,” in Studies in the
Economic History of the Middle East from the Rise of Islam to the Present Day, ed. Michael
A. Cook (London: Oxford University Press, 1970), pp. 169–171.
98
Halil Inalcik and Donald Quataert, An Economic and Social History of the Ottoman
Empire, 1300–1914 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), p. 39;
Suraiya Faroqhi, Pilgrims and Sultans: The Hajj under the Ottomans, 1517–1683
(London: I. B. Tauris 1996), p. 46.
99
Faroqhi, Pilgrims and Sultans, pp. 6, 34, 43, 48, 54–56.
100
White, The Climate of Rebellion, pp. 27–41, 48.
101
Juhany, Najd, pp. 69–70.
102
Dina Rizk Khoury, State and Provincial Society in the Ottoman Empire: Mosul, 1540–1834
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), pp. 23, 39; Fattah, Politics, pp. 31–32;
F. H. Stewart, “Khuwwa,” EI 2nd ed.
103
Khoury, State and Provincial Society, p. 31; Fattah, Politics, p. 35; Minorsky, Tadhkirat
al-mulū k, p. 179.
104
Khoury, State and Provincial Society, pp. 27–34; Avery, “Nā dir Shā h and the Afsharid
Legacy,” p. 52.
105
Fattah, Politics, pp. 25–26, 186–187.
106
Matthee, Persia in Crisis, p. 159; Inalcik and Quataert, Economic and Social History,
pp. 38–39.
107
Kasaba, Moveable Empire, pp. 32–34; Inalcik, “The Yürüks,” pp. 52–54; Inalcik and
Quataert, Economic and Social History, p. 40.
108
Arash Khazeni, Tribes & Empire on the Margins of Nineteenth-Century Iran (Seattle:
University of Washington Press, 2009), p. 24.
109
Murphy, “Some Features,” pp. 194–195; Kasaba, Moveable Empire, p. 30; Khoury,
State and Provincial Society, p. 61; Moshe Sharon, “The Political Role of the Bedouins in
Palestine in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries,” in Studies on Palestine during the
Ottoman Period, ed. Moshe Ma‘oz (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1975), pp. 15, 20.
110
Faroqhi, Pilgrims and Sultans, pp. 65–69.
111
Sharon, “Political Role,” pp. 15–22; Matthee, “Between Arabs, Turks,” pp. 58, 72–74.
Military Developments
In the three centuries from 1500 to 1800, the global military balance
shifted in favor of European powers while the military power of Iran
declined in relation to that of the Ottomans. We need to consider what
role nomadism played in this development. Since Europe vastly improved
its military technology in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, fire-
arms have been cited as a major factor and nomad disdain for new
technology has been seen as one cause for Safavid inferiority to the
Ottomans. However, recent scholarship has brought this analysis into
question. In a region like Europe, with a high population density and
112
Lindner, Nomads and Ottomans, pp. 56–59; Kasaba, Moveable Empire, p. 27; Inalcik and
Quataert, Economic and Social History, p. 36; Murphy, “Some Features,” p. 193;
Fragner, “Social and Internal Economic Affairs,” pp. 538–539.
113
Inalcik, “The Yürüks,” p. 54; Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, p. 49.
114
Lindner, Nomads and Ottomans, pp. 56–62, 82–84; Murphy, “Some Features,” p. 193;
Khoury, State and Provincial Society, p. 31.
115
Barkan, “Ottoman Fiscal Surveys,” p. 169. Note these figures include Karaman,
Zulkadiriye and other regions of central and eastern Anatolia.
116
White, The Climate of Rebellion, pp. 238–243.
117
Kenneth Warren Chase, Firearms: A Global History to 1700 (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2003), p. 23; Rhoads Murphy, Ottoman Warfare, 1500–1700 (New
Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1999), p. 66.
118
Chase, Firearms, pp. 24, 73–74.
119
Geoffrey Parker, The Military Revolution: Military Innovation and the Rise of the West,
1500–1800 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), p. 17.
120
Chase, Firearms, pp. 104–105; Savory, Iran under the Safavids, pp. 41–43.
121
Chase, Firearms, p. 117; Matthee, Persia in Crisis, p. 112; “Unwalled Cities and Restless
Nomads: Firearms and Artillery in Safavid Iran,” in Safavid Persia, ed. Charles Melville
(London: I. B. Tauris, 1996), 391.
122
Axworthy, “Army,” pp. 635–641; Perry, Karı̄ m Khā n Zand, pp. 68, 87.
123
Faroqhi, Pilgrims and Sultans, p. 69; Matthee, “Unwalled Cities,” pp. 405–407;
Matthee, Persia in Crisis, pp. 144, 217–218.
124
Murphy, Ottoman Warfare, pp. 85–98, 166.
125
Murphy, Ottoman Warfare, pp. 74, 82, 109; Murphy, “Resumption,” pp. 316–317.
126
Murphy, Ottoman Warfare, pp. 67–71, 191.
Conclusion
The Middle Periods have been seen as the age of the steppe traditions, which
were still relevant in most of the Middle East through much of the fifteenth
century. Nomads were a significant portion of the population in many
regions and were particularly powerful in Anatolia where Turkmen tribal
confederations became expansive powers. With the conquest of Iran first by
the Qaraqoyunlu and then the Aqqoyunlu, both new nomads and a stronger
tribal structure were imported into Iran, initiating a new era of tribal organ-
ization in both provincial government and the military. At the turn of the
sixteenth century this process was completed by Isma‘il’s creation of the
Safavid state, which brought a continued influx of Anatolian nomads. The
conquests of the Ottoman sultan Selim I blocked Safavid expansion west
and created a long borderland stretching from the Gulf to the Caucasus.
Over the next centuries the Ottomans faced successive Iranian states across
a buffer zone made up of primarily nomadic and tribal populations largely
outside the control of either state. Here both nomad and tribal power was
strengthened by the need for local allies on the part of the rival powers. One
should note that while this was a border region for both states, for the Middle
East it was a central area straddling major trade routes.
The Mongols and Timurids had suppressed tribalism while retaining
their steppe nomad origin both as a source of legitimacy and as a bond with
the armies that served them. The Ottomans and Safavids referred some-
times to Turkic traditions – the Oghuz in the Ottoman case, and
Tamerlane in the Safavid – but their primary legitimation was within the
religious tradition of the Middle East. Both used nomads in their military,
but were likewise threatened by them, in large part probably because of the
strength of tribal powers. Even the Safavids, who created the Qizilbash
oymaqs, soon attempted to dilute their power and their ideological import-
ance. Despite continued reliance on nomad troops, the sense of a common
origin with the dynasty declined. In the ideological sphere, we see here the
end of the Turco-Mongolian age. Nadir Shah’s attempt to revive the
steppe heritage in a unified Turkic identity did not last beyond his lifetime.
In the political and economic sphere, nomads remained more import-
ant. The Ottomans succeeded in suppressing nomad powers through
their central territories, including much of Anatolia, but tribes and
nomads remained integral to society and politics in Kurdistan, Syria,
Iraq and the Arabian Peninsula. In Iran, despite the efforts of the
Safavid shahs, nomads remained integrated into both the military and
provincial system and dominated the region.
199
later and went less deep. Throughout the nineteenth century most nomad
tribes remained intact and in control of significant territory, while tribal
contingents remained the greater part of the army. However, the new
economic order affected Iranian nomads just as it did those of the
Ottoman Empire. As tribal shaykhs became more fully involved in the
global economy, their interests sometimes became increasingly distant
from those of their followers.
Earlier travelers to the Middle East had provided some general descrip-
tion of pastoral nomads and tribal populations. By 1800 the European
powers had become actively involved in the Middle East and there was an
interest in the science of ethnography among academics and administra-
tive personnel. The Arabian tribes attracted particular attention; they
inhabited strategic regions and the Bedouin offered a rich and romantic
culture for study. For this reason, we have both documents and detailed
reports by travelers and scholars who attempted to document the
nomadic lifestyle, providing us a fuller understanding of tribal structure
and the relationship between nomads and settled communities.
European involvement in the Middle East often worked against the
interests of nomads in encouraging government controls and mechanized
transportation. At the same time the British, deeply involved in the Gulf,
offered alternative partnerships to neighboring pastoralists. The disrup-
tions of the early twentieth century, with the Constitutional Revolution in
Iran and World War I throughout the region, brought a resurgence of
nomad activity and strength. In both Iran and the Ottoman Empire
nomad tribes were often pulled into the struggle and offered a choice of
allies. This period was the last great moment of nomad power, but it
created a new order in which nomads have played a lesser part.
1
Eugene Rogan, Frontiers of the State in the Late Ottoman Empire: Transjordan, 1850–1921
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
2
Juhany, Najd, pp. 95–97; Rogan, Frontiers of the State, pp. 7–8.
3
Tom Nieuwenhuis, Politics and Society in Early Modern Iraq: Mamlū k Pashas, Tribal
Shaykhs and Local Rule between 1802 and 1831 (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1982),
pp. 122–132.
4
Khoury, State and Provincial Society, pp. 60–61; Madawi al-Rasheed, Politics in an Arabian
Oasis: The Rashidi Tribal Dynasty (London: I. B. Tauris, 1991), pp. 15–17.
5
Norman N. Lewis, Nomads and Settlers in Syria and Jordan, 1800–1980 (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1987), p. 5; Juhany, Najd, p. 75.
6
Rasheed, Politics, pp. 16, 76, 95–96; Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, pp. 31, 158.
1818 there were skirmishes with the governor’s troops, which ended in
a negotiated peace.9 The relationship with the ‘Anaza was both too equal
and too useful to compromise by excessive use of force.
The first decades of the nineteenth century were a tumultuous time.
The Sa’udi-Wahhabi state achieved a series of spectacular victories,
gaining control over most of the Arabian Peninsula. When the
Wahhabis reached the limits of expansion, they lost the loyalty of their
allies and they were overthrown in 1818 through the power of the
Ottoman governor Muhammad ‘Ali, by then essentially independent in
Egypt. Muhammad ‘Ali also controlled the Holy Cities as governor of the
Hijaz, and for a decade, from 1831 to 1841, he extended his power over
most of Syria. During this time, however, the Ottomans did manage to
reassert control over several other border regions. In 1831, with the help
of Kurds and other local tribes, they overthrew the Mamluk governor of
Baghdad and put the province under direct Ottoman rule. In a series of
expeditions from the 1830s to the 1850s, Ottoman troops managed to
destroy the independent Kurdish emirates of eastern Anatolia and insti-
tute more direct rule. In 1841 the Hijaz and the Holy Cities returned to
Ottoman rule under the restored Hashemite Sharif dynasty which had
held it earlier.
Two developments of the 1830s had less immediate effect but brought
greater long-term change. One of these was the introduction of steamship
transport in the Gulf and along the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers. Steam
power had relatively little impact at the beginning, since the tribes along
the rivers could collect khuwwa from boats as well as caravans, but over
time the efficiency of new transport and the British power behind it led to
a shift in trade routes from land to water, cutting into the Bedouin
economy.10 The other crucial event was the beginning of the modernizing
Tanzimat reforms in 1839 with the Khatt-i sherif of Gülkhane, the first of
a series of decrees aiming to institute a more European form of govern-
ance. These reforms introduced a major shift in the understanding of
government and society. All classes were to be treated alike, and fixed
taxes would be collected by government agents.
9 10
Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, pp. 9–10. Fattah, Politics, pp. 124–127, 137–138.
the Land Law of 1858 required registration of land based on written proof
of ownership, which rarely existed. This provision made it difficult to
preserve the collective ownership and the practice of seasonal land use
rights on which pastoralism depended.
The implementation of the Tanzimat was neither smooth nor steady.
Among the early measures was the introduction of a census and military
conscription. Governors in Syria and Iraq began to implement the census
over the 1840s and 1850s, while extending government administration
into the frontier through military campaigns. In 1845 the governor of
Aleppo fortified the steppe frontier, attacked the Bedouin and ordered the
restoration of villages and uncultivated fields. In 1852 there was a major
settlement program in the summer pastures of the Fid‘an tribe of the
‘Anaza near Aleppo. Tribesmen were given land with tax exemptions, and
their shaykhs were paid as irregular cavalry. This worked for a while, but
some groups returned to nomadism when the tax exemptions ended.11
During the same period, the Ottoman government in Damascus began
military campaigns into northern Transjordan, but actual control proved
difficult.12 Local tribes continued to collect khuwwa, and the district soon
returned to the control of tribes and village headmen. In Baghdad,
attempts to impose a census and conscription began with the creation of
the regional army in the 1840s, but the negative reaction limited the
implementation to the central regions; in the late 1850s an attempt to
impose conscription on the southern tribes led to insurrection.13
Expeditions in the 1860s had more permanent results and at this time
the Ottomans began to install garrisons in tribal and nomadic regions.14
In 1867 the Damascus government successfully asserted control over the
tribes in the hinterlands of Hims and Hama, and incorporated the north-
ern regions of ‘Ajlun in Transjordan.15 In 1868 the governor of Aleppo
created the Governorate of the Desert, establishing military posts stretch-
ing northeast from Damascus, at Dayr al-Zawr, Palmyra, Sukhna and
Qaryatayn. Actual control was still difficult to attain, however. The river
tribes of mixed livelihoods were forced to pay taxes, but the more fully
nomadic Shammar and ‘Anaza rebelled and did not accept the govern-
ment camel tax until the end of the century.16 In the 1870s, the energetic
governor of Baghdad, Midhat Pasha, began to extend control over the
11
Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, pp. 42–45. 12 Rogan, Frontiers of the State, pp. 45–48.
13
Ebubekir Ceylan, The Ottoman Origins of Modern Iraq: Political Reform, Modernization and
Development in the Nineteenth-Century Middle East (London: I. B. Tauris, 2011),
pp. 58–64, 76.
14
Fattah, Politics, p. 187.
15
Rogan, Frontiers of the State, p. 48; Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, pp. 124–125.
16
Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, pp. 30–33.
21
Ceylan, Ottoman Origins, pp. 160–161; Stanford J. Shaw and Ezel Kural Shaw, History of
the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977),
p. 114.
22
Rogan, Frontiers of the State, pp. 88–89.
23
Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, pp. 127–130; Fattah, Politics, pp. 156–157; Ceylan, Ottoman
Origins, p. 164.
24
Lewis, Nomads and Settlers, 34–35, 37, 156.
25
Madawi al-Rasheed, A History of Saudi Arabia, pp. 30–31.
26
Rasheed, Politics, pp. 39, 45–46, 75. 27 Rasheed, Politics, pp. 69–82, 93.
under Qajar princes, but they had inherited a region with little effective
bureaucracy and their armies were made up largely of tribal contingents.
In attempting to increase their power and to bring the population more
fully under control they were hampered by new geopolitical realities, with
England dominating the Gulf and the Russians advancing in the
Caucasus. There was no possibility of territorial expansion; instead, the
Qajars were soon embroiled in expensive defensive wars which brought
them neither prestige nor income. The possibilities for economic growth
were limited by European domination of the market in textiles, which the
Iranians exported, and in arms, which they needed. Though the shahs
were able to improve both security and the economy, they did not have
the power to extend their control directly into Iranian society.
A major source of weakness for the dynasty was its inability to create an
effective army independent of nomadic tribal manpower. From the begin-
ning of the century the shahs attempted to bring nomads more fully under
control, using many of the same techniques as the Ottomans. However,
they did not apparently try to settle nomads. Indeed, their policy seems to
have been both to retain nomads within Iran and to preserve
pastoralism.28 Nomadic tribesmen remained necessary to the state as
a military resource, as a source of crucial livestock products and for the
taxes they paid, and they were powerful in most regions of Iran. The
territories of the Qajar tribe in Azerbaijan and Mazandaran remained
central to the Qajar army and administration. The Shahsevan confeder-
ation occupied the region stretching from Western Azerbaijan towards
Qazwin. It had become an organized force under Nadir Shah but in the
nineteenth century its leadership became less centralized, and it did not
constitute a major power for much of this period.29 Farther to the west,
the Kurdish border states were generally under Ottoman more than Qajar
influence. Turkmen Afshar tribes were present in both Khorasan and
Azerbaijan along with a number of other tribal groups, some of which had
been resettled during the turbulent political period of the eighteenth
century.30
South and central Iran also supported large populations of nomads –
Iranian, Arab and Turkmen. The region from Isfahan to Khuzistan was
the territory of the Bakhtiyari, mentioned in Chapter 7. The Shiraz
countryside was dominated by the Qashqa’i confederation, whose tribes
migrated between winter pastures south and west of Shiraz and summer
28
See, for example, Lois Beck, The Qashqa’i of Iran (New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press, 1986), pp. 72–76; Tapper, Frontier Nomads, pp. 151–167.
29
Tapper, Frontier Nomads, pp. 21–26, 35–37.
30
Ervand Abrahamian, Iran between Two Revolutions (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1982), p. 15.
pastures north and northeast of the city.31 East of the Qashqa’i territories
were several originally independent tribes of mixed ethnicity, later formed
into the Khamsa confederation.32 The Gulf littoral was populated pri-
marily by Arab tribes, among whom the most prominent confederation
was the Banu Ka‘b of Muhammara (now Khorramshahr) east of Basra,
who combined pastoralism with agriculture.33 In the east, Iran suffered
from raiding by two largely nomadic tribal confederations straddling its
borders: the Baluch to the southeast, and in the northeast, the Yomut and
Göklen Turkmen. The Turkmen were particularly feared and disliked
because of their sale of Persian captives in the slave markets of Bukhara.34
As the century progressed, the tribes of Iran became increasingly
involved with outside powers. Some of the Shahsevan migrated between
Russian and Iranian territory and were thus under Russian control for
part of the year. The British had set up client states along the shores of the
Gulf and increasingly negotiated independently with tribes in Iranian
territories, including the Bakhtiyari, the Banu Ka‘b and the tribes of the
Khamsa confederation.
31
Pierre Oberling, The Qashqā ı̄ nomads of Fā rs (The Hague: Mouton, 1974), p. 15.
32
Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 4, 79.
33
See Willem Floor, “The Rise and Fall of the Banū Ka‘b. A Borderer State in Southern
Khuzestan,” Iran 44 (2006).
34
Afsaneh Najmabadi, The Story of the Daughters of Quchan: Gender and National Memory in
Iranian History (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1998), pp. 53–57.
35
Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , pp. 48–49; Abbas Amanat, Pivot of the Universe: Nasir al-Din Shah
Qajar and the Iranian Monarchy, 1831–1896 (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1997), p. 3.
36
Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 52, 83. 37 Tapper, Frontier Nomads, p. 180.
38
Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, p. 9.
brother or son of the ilkhani. These two offices remained within the same
lineages into the twentieth century, thus creating a stable aristocratic
stratum. In 1861–1862 Nasir al-Din Shah (1848–1896) decided to bal-
ance tribal politics in Fars by creating a new confederation of five formerly
independent tribes, given the name Khamsa (five). They were put under
the leadership of a man from a Persian merchant family of Shiraz, ‘Ali
Muhammad Khan, who held the hereditary title of Qawam al-Mulk. ‘Ali
Muhammad Khan’s family was familiar with these tribes, from whom it
had recruited military forces to protect its commercial empire. The cre-
ation of the Khamsa confederation was encouraged by the British, who
were concerned with the safety of the southern routes.39
The ilkhanis and ilbegis were invested by the government as leaders of
their confederations and could therefore be dismissed, though official
dismissal did not always prevent tribesmen from continuing to obey
a leader they trusted. Ilkhanis were held responsible for collecting tribal
taxes due to the government, for maintaining order within their districts,
and particularly for maintaining security on the routes.40 Their position
gave them independent sources of revenue since they collected taxes also
for their own use and levied tolls both on tribesmen and on commercial
traffic along the roads they controlled. Two important routes went
through tribal territories in the south: the Shiraz-Bushehr route through
Qashqa’i lands and the Shiraz-Abadan route through the Khamsa
territory.41 Tribal management of the routes was a continuous source of
friction with the Iranian government and later in the century also with the
British, since raiding along them was a standard way for tribal populations
to express discontent or to weaken their rivals.42
While strong ilkhani leadership worked to increase security, it also
threatened to encroach on the power of provincial governors and of the
shah himself. Furthermore, the ilkhanis, as powerful members of the elite,
became involved in the politics of the dynasty. Like the Ottomans, the
Qajars tried to limit the strength of tribal confederations by undermining
or eliminating the leaders they had appointed when they became too
powerful, and by fomenting strife within the tribal leadership. I will give
one example here: In 1832 the Qashqa’i Ilkhani Muhammad ‘Ali was so
powerful that it was said he could make all of Fars rotate around his index
finger, and he felt free to make demands on the governor of Fars. When
39
Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 79–83; Vanessa Martin, The Qajar Pact: Bargaining, Protest and the
State in Nineteenth-Century Persia (London: I. B. Tauris, 2005), pp. 48–53.
40
Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, pp. 82–83; Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 80–83; Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ ,
p. 23; Tapper, Frontier Nomads, p. 183.
41
Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, pp. 105, 107; Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , pp. 83–84.
42
Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , p. 92; Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, p. 130.
the governor failed to fulfill his requests he moved many of his tribesmen
to the province of Kerman, where they were welcomed for the tax income
they would bring. Under pressure from the shah the governor was forced
to give in and the tribe returned.43 However, when a powerful ally of the
ilkhani in Azerbaijan died, the governor of Fars took his revenge; the
ilkhani was arrested, his estates in Shiraz plundered, and Qashqa’i graves
dug up. The ilkhani was later released and reinstated, only to be arrested
again a year or two later and moved to Tehran where he was kept hostage
for thirteen years.44
The tribal leaders did not depend entirely on the collective strength of
their followers for their position; they were also major landowners. The
Bakhtiyari ilkhani family held estates providing significant income, while
the Qashqa’i had a magnificent building in Shiraz and also large land-
holdings. The leading families of tribal confederations led their tribes not
as first among equals, but as a wealthy elite that was able to deal with the
provincial powers, the Qajar dynasty, and foreign states using the man-
power and economy of their followers as only one of their sources of
strength.45 In the first decade of the twentieth century, the Bakhtiyari
acquired a new source of wealth when the British D’Arcy concession
struck oil in their territories. Although the Bakhtiyari leaders were per-
suaded to settle for a small percentage of profits, their royalties and
further sale of land to the concession provided significant new
income.46 A description of Hajji Quli Sardar As‘ad and other Bakhtiyari
leaders by the British official Sir Mortimer Durand shows his surprise at
finding a leader of nomads who could deal with him in his own cultural
sphere:
[He had] a fine new house with many curious prints and pictures on the walls; and
his little son, a bright pleasant boy of twelve, came and read to us a little story out
of an English book . . . the chiefs were very well read. It was curious to hear them
talking of Stanley’s travels in Africa, and the war in the Transvaal, and bacteri-
ology, and all sorts of unexpected things. The Sipahdar told us he had a son who
was being educated in Paris.47
The ordinary nomads did not share all the advantages of their leaders.
Although in general the tax burden on nomads was lighter than that of
peasants, it was nonetheless oppressive and observers noted the poverty of
some nomads.48
43
Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , p. 49. 44 Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 72–76.
45
Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 86–87. 46 Khazeni, Tribes and Empire, pp. 112–157.
47
Potts, Nomadism, pp. 328–329.
48
Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , p. 60; Tapper, Frontier Nomads, pp. 188, 243.
49
Tapper, Frontier Nomads, p. 185; Stephanie Cronin, Armies and State-Building in the
Modern Middle East: Politics, Nationalism and Military Reform (London: I. B. Tauris,
2014), p. 46; Potts, Nomadism, p. 297.
50
Cronin, Armies, pp. 55–62; Martin, Qajar Pact, pp. 134–143.
51
Reza Ra’iss Tousi, “The Persian Army, 1880–1907,” Middle Eastern Studies 24, no. 2
(1988), pp. 210–212.
52
Tousi, “The Persian Army, 1880–1907,” p. 217; Cronin, Armies, p. 63; Garthwaite,
Khans and Shahs, pp. 64–65.
53
Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, pp. 64–65, 79–81; Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , pp. 48, 70.
54
Beck, Qashqa’i, p. 75.
55
Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs, pp. 80–81; Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , p. 23; Tapper, Frontier
Nomads, pp. 239–243.
56
Potts, Nomadism, p. 323; Tousi, “The Persian Army, 1880–1907,” pp. 215, 218.
allying with revolutionary clubs in Shiraz and the ulama of Fars and Najaf.
The rival Khamsa were close allies of the British and now sided with the
shah. With the victory of the constitutionalists and the creation of
a parliament (majlis), the major tribal confederations were ensured rep-
resentation, with seats for the Bakhtiyari, Qashqa’i, Khamsa, Shahsevan
and Turkmen.57
The Bakhtiyari became involved later but played a decisive role and for
a while gained national power. The main mover was the same Hajji ‘Ali
Quli Sardar As‘ad who so surprised Durand with his sophistication. He
had served as commander of the Bakhtiyari contingent within the prime
minister’s guard, then moved back and forth between the Bakhtiari
territories, service in Tehran, and residence in Europe. In 1909 when
Muhammad ‘Ali Shah dissolved the majlis, ‘Ali Quli was in Paris but
returned to Iran and allied with Shaykh Khaz‘al who provided funds for
a campaign. After gathering troops among the Bakhtiyari he and his
brother moved towards Tehran. As constitutionalist troops from the
north joined the Bakhtiyari, support for the shah crumbled and the
revolutionaries took the capital without violence, replaced Muhammad
‘Ali Shah with his young son Ahmad, and restored the majlis.58 In the
governments that followed, the Bakhtiyari elite played a leading part. ‘Ali
Quli Sardar As‘ad, for instance, served first as minister of the interior,
then as minister of war and as Majlis deputy, while his brother Najaf Quli
Khan Samsam al-Saltana was appointed as governor of Isfahan and later
served as prime minister. There were also Bakhtiyari governors in several
major cities, and Bakhtiyari troops remained garrisoned in the city until
the autumn of 1913.
Not surprisingly, the ascent of the Bakhtiyari brought a reaction among
the other tribes. Aiming to curb Bakhtiyari power, the Qashqa’i even
allied with their rivals, the Khamsa, and Ismaìl Khan Sawlat al-Dawla
created a brief alliance with Shaykh Khaz‘al of Muhammara and the
leader of the Lurs.59 As the government in Tehran suffered one crisis
after another, the countryside outside Tehran increasingly came under
the control of the tribal confederations. This situation brought disorder
and problems for both nomad and settled. Rivalry among confederations
was one problem; another was increasingly assertive leadership at the sub-
tribal level, which made it impossible for the ilkhanis to assert control over
their subordinates or to prevent raids along the routes. Both tribal power
and general disorder in Iran lasted through World War I. Iran began the
57
Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 100–106.
58
‘A. A. Sa‘ı̄ dı̄ Sı̄ rjā nı̄ , “Baktı̄ ā rı̄ ; Hā jı̄ ‘Alı̄ qolı̄ Khan Sardā r As‘ad,” EIr; Khazeni, Tribes and
Empire, pp. 176–182. ˙
59
Oberling, Qashqā ı̄ , p. 91; Beck, Qashqa’i, p. 107.
twentieth century much as it had found itself before the Qajar dynasty,
with a central government unable to assert power over its nominal realm
and the countryside largely under the control of local powers, many of
them largely nomadic.
60 61
Rasheed, Politics, p. 209. Rasheed, A History, pp. 38–39.
of machine guns and rifles. In return he was not to correspond with other
foreign powers or attack local leaders under British protection.62
While this was happening the British Commissioner in Cairo was
pursuing a different course, wooing the Hashimite ruler of the Hijaz,
Sharif Husayn, and encouraging him to rebel against the Ottomans. As
recompense he was promised an independent Arab kingdom after the
war, which would include Mesopotamia and most of Syria. The British
offered money, guns and grain in return. This was the famous Husayn-
McMahon correspondence. Although Sharif Husayn’s religious prestige
made him well-positioned to lead a revolt, he was less well off from
a military standpoint. The Ottoman government had about 12,000 troops
garrisoned in the cities of the Hijaz. The Sharif, responsible for the
countryside and the tribal confederations, had an insignificant regular
army and depended on volunteers from the tribal confederations.63 The
history of the Arab Revolt illustrates both the strengths and – even more
clearly – the limitations of Arab tribal armies.
Sharif Husayn remained the acknowledged leader, but the active fight-
ing was carried out by his four sons; the most central was Faysal about
whom we are well informed because the famous T. E. Lawrence –
Lawrence of Arabia – was attached to his camp. Sharif Husayn had
spent time in exile in Istanbul, and his sons were educated there. At the
same time, they were well schooled in the tribal politics necessary to
assemble a fighting force in the Hijaz.64 On June 2, 1916, Faysal and his
brother ‘Ali set out to gather tribal forces and on June 9 they cut the
railroad track and the telegraph lines, then defeated the Ottoman garrison
of Mecca. Over the months that followed they took Jeddah, Ta’if and
several Red Sea ports with the help of British forces. However, their
position soon deteriorated, and their forces began to disperse.65 While
Sharif Husayn and his sons were motivated by wider ambitions, their
tribal followers had primarily local concerns: rivalries with other tribes,
fear of Ottoman encroachment and the threat the railway posed to their
livelihood. They also required payment. Faysal had nothing to give and
had to disguise the fact by having a locked chest filled with stones con-
spicuously guarded by his slaves and carried into his tent every night.66
62
Rasheed, A History, pp. 39–40.
63
William Ochsenwald, Religion, Society and the State in Arabia: The Hijaz under Ottoman
Control, 1840–1908 (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1984), pp. 154–158;
Eugene Rogan, The Fall of the Ottomans: The Great War in the Middle East (New York:
Basic Books, 2015), p. 302; Ali A. Allawi, Faisal I of Iraq (New Haven, CT: Yale
University Press, 2014), p. 73.
64
Allawi, Faisal, pp. 10–17.
65
Allawi, Faisal, pp. 69–70, 74–75; Rogan, The Fall, pp. 299–301.
66
Allawi, Faisal, p. 72.
67
Allawi, Faisal, p. 82; Rogan, The Fall, pp. 303–307.
68
Allawi, Faisal, pp. 77–80; Joseph Kostiner, “The Hashimite Tribal Confederacy of the
Arab Revolt, 1916–1917,” in National and International Politics in the Middle East: Essays
in Honour of Elie Kedourie, ed. Edward Ingram (London: F. Cass, 1986), p. 13. See also
Max Freiherr von Oppenheim, Die Beduinen, vol. 2, 3 (Leipzig: Otto Harrassowitz,
1939–1952), vol. 2, pp. 232, 277, 293, vol. 3, p. 88.
69
Abdulaziz H. al-Fahad, “The ‘Imama vs. the ‘Iqal: Hadari-Bedouin Conflict and the
Formation of the Saudi State,” in Counter-Narratives: History, Contemporary Society, and
Politics in Saudi Arabia and Yemen, ed. Madawi al-Rasheed and Robert Vitalis (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), pp. 43, 49–50.
70
David Commins, The Mission and the Kingdom: Wahhabi Power behind the Saudi Throne
(London: I. B. Tauris, 2016), pp. 80–81; al-Fahad, “‘Imama,” pp. 42–45.
called hijra (plural hujar) where they were expected to take up seden-
tary occupations but also be ready at all times to be called up for war.
The Ikhwan soon attempted to enforce the Wahhabi doctrine on
populations who were not fully compliant. The first hijra was set up
in 1913 and other settlements quickly developed thereafter, so that
by 1930 most tribes had settlements associated with them.71
Ibn Sa‘ud quickly began to make use of the Ikhwan, providing them
stipends and incorporating them into his armies. Scholars are not entirely
in agreement about their military importance, but they were certainly
a major force during Ibn Sa‘ud’s rise to power, pushing for expansion and
sometimes for forcible conversion.72 However the Ikhwan were a two-
edged sword, and the inner edge was almost as sharp as the outer. The
atrocities they committed against nomads and Shi‘ites created ill-will,
threatening Ibn Sa‘ud’s reputation, and they brought disorder both into
the state administration and into the management of tribal grazing
grounds. Their refusal to accept the borders agreed upon between Ibn
Sa‘ud and the British in 1925 and their continued raiding into Syria and
Iraq also threatened relations with the European powers. There were
crises in 1916, 1919, and 1925–1926, and from 1927 to 1930 on the
Ikhwan were fully in revolt, finally defeated only with the help of British
air power.73
It is difficult to assess how the Ikhwan related to nomadism or to
the issue of tribal power. On one hand, they gave up their animals to
take up a settled life, and the importance of this step was emphasized
both by the Ikhwan themselves, who often attacked nomads as infi-
dels, and by Ibn Sa‘ud.74 On the other hand, the boundaries between
the Ikhwan in the hujar and their Wahhabi fellow-tribesmen outside
were not always clear. It is notable that among the complaints from
the Ikhwan were the taxation of nomadic tribes and limitations on
grazing land.75 The relation of the Ikhwan movement to tribal power
is also ambiguous. The Ikhwan were to move away from the tribe
into the hujar. Meanwhile, tribal leaders were strongly invited to
move to Riyadh for proper indoctrination, where they were brought
into the central tribal council, and had to depend on the government
71
Rasheed, A History, pp. 57–58; John S. Habib, Ibn Sa’ud’s Warriors of Islam: The Ikhwan
of Najd and Their Role in the Creation of the Sa’udi Kingdom, 1910–1930 (Leiden: Brill,
1978), pp. 47–59.
72
Joseph Kostiner, “On Instruments and Their Designers: The Ikhwan of Najd and the
Emergence of the Saudi State,” Middle Eastern Studies 21, no. 3 (1985), pp. 306–307.
73
Kostiner, “On Instruments,” pp. 305, 309, 311–315; Rasheed, A History, pp. 62–68;
Habib, Ibn Sa‘ud’s Warriors, pp. 79–86.
74
Commins, Mission, pp. 85–87; Kostiner, “On Instruments,” pp. 308–309.
75
Commins, Mission, pp. 88–89.
for gifts to distribute.76 On the other hand, most hujar were settled
by a particular tribe and remained associated with it; Ikhwan settled
in the hujar therefore retained loyalty to their tribal leaders. Chief
among these was Faysal al-Duwish, head of the Mutayr tribe, who
fought against the creation of frontiers which cut off migration
routes, restricted raiding, and denied tribes access to grazing and
wells.77
In general, scholars have interpreted the Ikhwan rebellion as
a movement to preserve tribal power; thus, Ibn Sa‘ud’s victory over the
Ikhwan should be seen as a victory for a centralized, non-tribal state.78 By
1925 he had abolished the tribal dı̄ ras and outlawed the practice of
intertribal raids. From the 1920s and increasingly after the defeat of the
Ikhwan, the nomad tribes were made dependent on subsidies from the
central government and lost much of their independence.79
In Iraq and Syria nomads and tribes also lost influence, while the
government gradually gained decisive power. After the war it became
clear that the British did not plan to honor their promises of Arab
independence, and that the French did not intend to give up Syria. The
French and British Mandates imposed foreign and more intrusive rule
which brought resistance from their new subjects. Nomads were involved,
but they were not the leaders in the larger movements. The Iraqi Revolt of
1920, remembered as a decisive moment in Iraqi national consciousness,
was begun by nationalists and depended on the military manpower of the
tribes of the middle and southern Euphrates who practiced agriculture
along with sheep and goat pastoralism.80 Some Bedouin of the northern
regions, notably the Shammar Jarba who occupied much of the Jazira,
were active at the beginning of the revolt, but they were quickly put down
by the British.81 The revolt in central and southern Iraq lasted several
more months, but the use of the British air force, with the destruction of
villages and other settlements, extinguished the uprising before the end of
the year.82 While many tribes resisted, some shaykhs played a different
76
Habib, Ibn Sa‘ud’s Warriors, pp. 30, 48–52. 77 Commins, Mission, pp. 88–89.
78
Rasheed, A History, p. 6; al-Fahad, “‘Imama,” p. 36; Kostiner, “On Instruments,”
p. 307.
79
Ugo Fabietti, “State Policies and Bedouin Adaptation in Saudi Arabia, 1900–1980,” in
The Transformation of Nomadic Society in the Arab East, ed. Martha Mundy and Basim
Musallam (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 84–85.
80
Amal Vinogradov, “The 1920 Revolt in Iraq Reconsidered: The Role of Tribes in
National Politics,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 3, no. 2 (1972).
81
Charles Tripp, A History of Iraq (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007),
pp. 39–40; John Frederick Williamson, “A Political History of the Shammar Jarba
Tribe of al-Jazirah: 1800–1958,” unpublished PhD dissertation, Indiana University
(1974), pp. 154–155.
82
Vinogradov, “1920 Revolt,” pp. 136–138.
intertribal conflict and were willing to put up with disorder for the sake of
preventing tribal alliances. In contrast, the French and the British were
eager to end raiding and inserted themselves in the process of tribal
negotiation, bringing tribes together with Mandate officials. They collab-
orated on two major conferences in 1925 and 1927. In 1926 raiding
became illegal in British Iraq, sometimes punished by air raids, and in
1927 the French and British established a tribal court to settle claims.87
Over the long run the reduction in raiding did much to weaken tribal
leaders as a political force, since military leadership had been an import-
ant part of their authority over their tribes.
Although increasing sedentarization of nomads during the interwar
period was due in part to Mandate policy, much was also the result of
economic and technological development. World War I had ushered in
the age of oil and of motor transport. Over the course of a few decades the
truck and car made the caravan a thing of the past and largely destroyed
the market for camels. Thus, the Bedouin, who had been the most
prestigious and powerful of the nomads, lost much of their economic
base – the sale of camels and horses and the guidance of caravans. Some
became settled or turned to other occupations, often in transport or the
military. Others replaced camels with herds of sheep and goats, still
earning a living, but no longer able to retreat into the distant desert and
retain their independence.88 The war and the development of the
machine gun likewise marked the end of cavalry as a fighting force,
weakening the market for horses and the usefulness of mounted soldiers.
Many tribal shaykhs now became fully part of the urban elite, with their
main residence in town and only occasional visits in the tribe. Some
became members of the Syrian Chamber of Delegates, thus becoming
representatives more than leaders of tribes.89 The nomads of Iraq and
Syria did not cease all military activity, and we find them still engaging in
occasional raids throughout the first half of the century. However, they
were no longer central to the politics of the region as a whole.
87
Chatty, From Camel, pp. 34–36, 57–58; Williamson, “A Political History,” pp. 164–171.
88
Chatty, From Camel, pp. 40–42. 89 Khoury, “The Tribal Shaykh,” pp. 186–189.
Kurdistan, Azerbaijan and Gilan were largely under the control of separ-
atist movements, and there were revolts among the Kurds and in
Khorasan. In 1921 the British encouraged the Cossack Brigade led by
the officer Reza Khan to take over Tehran. Reza Khan became minister of
war, but from the beginning he was the active power, and in 1925 he was
proclaimed shah. His goal was to form a centralized nation state in Iran,
with a population as homogeneous and as Persian as he could make it. In
this endeavor he had the approval of government officials and modern
intellectuals; few people in Iran wanted a continuation of the confusion
and lawlessness then prevailing. In his early campaigns against tribal
powers Reza Khan had the support of some tribal leadership, and nomads
made up part of the army he sent against recalcitrant tribes.90
In the mid-1920s, Reza Shah sharpened his campaign against the
largely nomadic tribal confederations, particularly against the most
powerful – the Qashqa’i and the Bakhtiyari. He put the Qashqa’i under
a military governorship and ordered them disarmed. What made central
control painful was not simply incorporation, but the oppression and
corruption that accompanied it. The treatment of the Qashqa’i was
symbolized by one particular outrage: an army captain’s demand that
Qashqa’i women feed his litter of puppies with their breast milk.91
Reza Shah assailed tribal power from a variety of directions. At the
beginning he sought to attract the tribal leadership, working to separate
them from the lower echelons of the tribe. As in other states, land-
registration laws often resulted in the conversion of communal pasture
into personal property owned by the khans. This situation was resented
by ordinary nomads and peasants within the tribe, creating a division
between the top leadership and tribesmen.92 Reza Shah both exploited
and exacerbated these tensions. The tribal leadership spent considerable
time in Tehran or provincial cities; Reza now used representation in the
central majlis to keep them away from tribal territories. In 1923 he engin-
eered the election of Sawlat al-Dawla Qashqa’i to the majlis and then
restricted him to the capital.93 Over time, increasing numbers of tribal
ilkhanis were detained in Tehran or provincial cities. In their absence the
middle leadership, chiefs of individual tribes, became more
autonomous.94 Nomadic populations participated increasingly in the
national and international economy as day laborers, some, especially
the Bakhtiyari, working in the oil industry. Their interests thus began to
90
Stephanie Cronin, Tribal Politics in Iran: Rural Conflict and the New State, 1921–1941
(London: Routledge, 2007), pp. 2–5; Beck, Qashqa’i, pp. 129–130.
91
Beck, Qashqa’i, p. 132. 92 Cronin, Tribal Politics, pp. 85–86, 94–97.
93
Beck, Qashqa’i, p. 131; Cronin, Tribal Politics, p. 25, 43–44.
94
Cronin, Tribal Politics, pp. 70–73, 120, 124.
diverge from those of the khans, and they became more aware of the
public sphere. Reza Shah was able to use press campaigns to discredit
tribal leaders not only with the general public, but also among some
tribespeople as well.95
The Bakhtiyari, the most powerful confederation at the end of World
War I, was the most vulnerable, due in part to its involvement in central
politics. Ironically, the other weakness of the Bakhtiyari leaders was their
income as shareholders in the Anglo-Persian Oil Company. The shares
they received represented the tribal interest but were held in the name of
the leading lineage. Over time, as expenses mounted and the Great
Depression set in, members of the family borrowed against their shares,
encouraged by the company, which provided loans it knew could not be
repaid. Money which was supposed to be passed to the tribal membership
as a whole could no longer be given, causing increasing resentment from
the subordinate khans.96 The result was that when the government
attacked, the Bakhtiyari leaders could not count on support from the
lower echelon of the tribe.
In 1927–1928 Reza Shah began to implement his modernization plan,
introducing a census, land registration, and a western dress code. Again,
the program was carried out without consideration for the population and
it aroused opposition throughout the countryside. The government also
began to relocate tribes and to implement forcible settlement of
nomads.97 These moves, together with Reza Shah’s dismissal of the
head of the Khamsa confederation, brought the southern tribes into
rebellion; the Khamsa, Qashqa’i and neighboring tribes raised armies
strong enough to attack the aerodrome, cut the routes, and threaten
Shiraz. At this time the ilkhani Sawlat al-Dawla was under arrest, and
the uprising was organized by other members of the lineage along with
mid-level tribal leaders. The struggle ended in a stalemate; the Pahlavi
army was still not truly effective, while the tribes could not remain
stationary around Shiraz when the change of season required migration.
The next year several sections of the Bakhtiyari rebelled and scored
a number of victories. The government had to give in to some of the tribal
demands, releasing imprisoned leaders and removing direct government
oversight.98
Reza Shah, however, was still determined to bring the nomadic tribes
fully under control. The forcible settlement of nomads was implemented
from 1932 onwards; nomads were forbidden to migrate in their usual
large groups and were to practice agriculture, moving into newly
95
Cronin, Tribal Politics, pp. 103–104. 96 Cronin, Tribal Politics, pp. 133–159.
97
Cronin, Tribal Politics, pp. 31–32, 113. 98 Cronin, Tribal Politics, pp. 104, 120–127.
103
Chatty, From Camel, pp. xviii–xix; Donald P. Cole, “Where Have the Bedouin Gone?”
Anthropological Quarterly 76, no. 2 (2003), p. 259.
104
Chatty, From Camel, pp. 58–60.
105
Lois Beck, “Economic Transformations Among Qashqa’i Nomads, 1962–1978,” in
Continuity and Change in Modern Iran, ed. Michael E. Bonine and Nikki R. Keddie
(Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1981), pp. 94–96; Chatty, From
Camel, pp. 108–110; Potts, Nomadism, p. 417.
106
Beck, “Economic Transformation,” p. 101.
107
Tapper, Frontier Nomads, pp. 311–314; Potts, Nomadism, pp. 414–417.
trucks and accomplish the migration in a few days. With fewer pastures
and a longer stay in those that remain, it has become necessary to pur-
chase feed. Nomads therefore remain near the settled community for
much of the year.108 Pastoralism by truck is more profitable and probably
easier, but some aspects of earlier migrations are missed. Among the
Bedouin, it appears that it is the women, not the men, who have regretted
the end of the long migrations, which were times in which much of their
labor was cooperative rather than individual. With the loss of the camel,
moreover, other satisfying tasks such as weaving have been reduced or
eliminated.109 For the Qashqa’i in Iran, the shortening of the migration
season has also affected women and girls, who used to forage along the
route for additional foods which added significantly to their diet, and for
natural dyes to use in their weaving of rugs.110 Pastoral nomadism has
thus survived in modern form and with a market orientation. The days of
long migrations, regional power and military exploits are remembered
and retold, but they are no longer lived.
112
M. Şükrü Hanioğ lu, Atatürk: An Intellectual Biography (Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press, 2011), pp. 160–175.
113
Cronin, Tribal Politics, p. 17.
114
Khazeni, Tribes and Empire, pp. 170–173; Najmabadi, Daughters of Quchan, pp. 35–50.
115
Cronin, Tribal Politics, p. 27.
116
Jalal Al-e Ahmad, Plagued by the West (Gharbzadegi) trans. Paul Sprachman (Delmar,
NY: Caravan Books, 1982), pp. 12–13.
Conclusion
The decline of nomad power in the modern period is undoubtedly con-
nected with the growing strength of government and the development of
new military technology. What is probably even more important is the
decrease in the usefulness of nomad pastoralists to settled society and to
the state. The development of steamships in the nineteenth century
provided transport that was more efficient than the camel caravan,
where water travel was possible. The telegraph and railway allowed faster
communication and travel even overland, and it is surely not by chance
that both were targets of attacks by nomads. The most fateful develop-
ment was the discovery and use of oil for motorized transport starting in
World War I, which soon made the camel caravan obsolete. The market
for camels largely disappeared, and so did the nomad responsibility for
the security of routes through steppe, mountain and desert. Pastoralists
had also served as guides and protectors for caravans on those routes and
had controlled and taxed the regions in which they pastured. This system
had not been perfect; order among tribes and between tribes and govern-
ment had often broken down. However, pre-modern governments usu-
ally did not have the ability to maintain control over difficult terrain
117
Cole, “Where Have the Bedouin Gone?” pp. 254–256.
118
Cole, “Where Have the Bedouin Gone?” pp. 256–258; Andrew Shryock, Nationalism
and the Genealogical Imagination (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997),
pp. 7, 312.
themselves, since they lacked the manpower needed to garrison roads and
provide supplies. Thus, even as the governments expanded their reach,
they often returned the task of controlling and taxing marginal regions to
tribal leaders. In the twentieth century, with the advent of the truck and
the building of roads, it became possible for states to assert stable control
over territories which had earlier been under nomad protection.
World War I also introduced the machine gun and the airplane, and
these ended the use of cavalry that had been at the core of Middle Eastern
armies for millennia. As the markets for horses declined and nomads were
no longer needed as mounted auxiliaries, the nomads of the Middle East
lost several of their major functions within wider society. They were no
longer indispensable in war, trade could be carried on largely without
them, and the peripheral lands could be kept more or less quiet through
direct government control. What remained necessary was the provision of
livestock products. Despite state attempts to create a fully sedentary
society, it has become clear that in some regions the practice of pastoral
nomadism is still the best way to use marginal lands and to supply the
population with meat, milk, wool and leather.
The central Islamic lands are set in a region of dry climate and difficult
terrain; it is doubtful that they could have developed a rich cosmopolitan
society without the presence of pastoral nomads. It was the improved
camel saddle and the development of camel nomadism that made it
possible for caravans to cross the Syrian desert and to connect
Mesopotamia to the Syrian coast and the Arabian Peninsula. The
mounted nomadism of the steppe likewise created new opportunities:
horses, sheep and goats were combined with Bactrian camels, used in
trade routes running north-south, from the forests and rivers of northern
Russia to the Black Sea and Transoxiana, and east-west, linking China
and the Middle East along the Silk Road from the second century BC
onwards. Nomads provided most of the animals needed for caravans and
were well placed to guide them through territory which they could navi-
gate more easily than the settled population. Their military prowess and
mobility also allowed them to protect the routes, a task that pre-modern
states could not manage with only settled manpower. This protection was
admittedly imperfect – nomad raids often disrupted trade – but even in
settled districts the maintenance of security was rarely fully reliable.
Finally, the nomads provided invaluable military manpower as mounted
archers, and likewise the horses necessary for any state to maintain an
army.
The medieval Middle East stands out for its urban development, active
trade and artisanal production. We should recognize that these achieve-
ments were due in part to nomads, who not only provided the means of
transport, but also helped to provision the cities with animal products –
milk and meat for consumption, wool and hides for the manufacture of
textiles and leather goods – central to the economy. Thus, the Islamic
Middle East was built on two complementary economies. While pastor-
alists and agriculturalists were seen as separate, in marginal territories
people moved back and forth between the two lifestyles, depending on
both climate and political circumstances. In times of disorder agricultural
231
land might turn into pasture, and the same could happen due to pro-
longed drought. This change can be seen as a negative outcome, since
agriculture is a more intensive form of land use, but the availability of
pastoral nomadism also provided a means of survival when agriculture
failed.
The three steppe dynasties of the Middle Period laid claim to broad
territory and adopted the bureaucratic culture created by the ‘Abbasids,
administered largely by Persian bureaucrats. While adopting much of
Islamic tradition they also brought in new ideas, each creating a new
charismatic lineage which survived well beyond the dynasty itself. The
Mongols in particular introduced traditions and structures developed in
the steppe which were added to the institutions developed by the caliph-
ate. Just as military activity was not limited to steppe nomads, adminis-
tration was not entirely in the hands of Persian bureaucrats. In the
Mongol and the Timurid realm, Turco-Mongolian emirs were active in
the dı̄ wā n, presumably not in the more technical posts, but nonetheless
involved in running the state.
that lasted for centuries, particularly in Anatolia where the memory of the
Rum Seljuqs continued to be invoked well into the Ottoman period.
The Mongols of course came in as a fully imperial power with their own
tradition, and for a while reduced much of the Middle East to provincial
status, introducing new offices and institutions which were frankly foreign
to the region. Most importantly perhaps they created a uniquely charis-
matic dynasty which first rivalled and then overthrew the caliphate. For
almost a century the descendants of Chinggis Khan were the only people
who could claim legitimate sovereign power within the Mongol lands,
which included much of the central Islamic territory, and the Mongol
yasa was held up beside the shari‘a. With the end of the unified Mongol
Empire and the gradual conversion of the western Mongolian Empire to
Islam, the two traditions became closely intertwined despite their appar-
ent contradictions, and Mongol heritage became part of dynastic legitim-
ation. The synthesis was completed by the rise of the Timurid dynasty
which produced a dynastic founder claiming both Muslim identity and
Chinggisid connections, and also a brilliant court culture in which innov-
ations brought by the Mongols combined with the rise of a sophisticated
literature in the Turkic language and a continued flowering of Persianate
art and culture. The Turks and Turco-Mongolians were now fully part of
the Islamic world and its political culture. The figure of Tamerlane
remained useful as a source of dynastic legitimation through the eight-
eenth century.
later, perhaps through the continued influx of Oghuz nomads from the
steppes. Under the Mongols and Timurids, tribes ceased to be an active
organizing principle in the army or regional politics and for that reason
they are largely absent from contemporary histories. It is probable none-
theless that they continued to play a role in social and economic life and in
local politics, just as regional settled elites did. We know that some tribes,
like the Oyirad, remained intact in the Mongol period, and in the later
period a number developed out of Mongol contingents, particularly in the
regions less fully under central control – Anatolia in the west, and to the
east, in Khorasan and Transoxiana. In the Timurid histories we find a few
continuing mentions of the tribes that had been active before and during
Temür’s rise, and in the struggles of the later Timurid period tribalism
became a more important factor.
With the conquest of Iran first by the Turkmen confederations and
then by the Safavids, the nomad population again increased, particularly
in southern Iran, and tribalism became a major force in both provincial
and military organization. Although the Ottomans pursued a very differ-
ent strategy in their central regions, in Anatolia and the Arab provinces,
Turkmen, Kurdish and Arab nomadic tribes remained prominent. Thus,
the Middle East entered the modern period with a large population of
tribally organized nomads.
1
See, for instance, Kurt Franz, “The Bedouin in History or Bedouin History?” Nomadic
Peoples 15, no. 1 (2011): pp. 27, 31–32, 35–36.
leather and wool – which have continued to support a smaller and weaker
nomad population.
The nomads not only lost income, they also lost their usefulness to the
states of the Middle East. Previously both nomad manpower and the
animals they raised had been indispensable for the practice of trade and
war, central to all states. The steppes, mountains and deserts so common
in the central Islamic lands could not be fully controlled or safely tra-
versed without them. Despite frequent conflicts with nomad tribes, states
could not do without them, and had to come to an accommodation
allowing them a separate sphere of power. In the contemporary Middle
East nomads occupy only a small niche, but the history of the region
cannot be well understood without including them. We should recognize
that their role was not peripheral but central, and that it was not only
a negative but also a positive one.
242
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Note: Page numbers with the suffix n indicate a footnote and those in italic denote
illustrations.
268
camels, 5–6, 21–22, 27, 29n, 81, 192, 222 Faysal al-Duwı̄ sh, 220
caravans, 4, 63–64, 65, 192, 194, 229–230 Fays˙ al ibn Husayn, 216–217
Chaghadai Khan, 116–118, 122, 136, 147 ˙ 81, 96–97,
Fars, ˙ 100, 132, 133, 210–211,
Chaghri Beg, 89–91, 94–95 213–214
Chā ldirā n, battle of (1514), 196 Fath ‘Alı̄ Shā h, 209
˙
administration, 111, 117–118, 135–136 Murā d II, Sultā n, 157, 160–161, 165
agriculture, 132–133 Murshid Quli ˙Khan Ustajlu, 177
army, 111, 113, 114, 115–116, 118, Musha‘sha‘ dynasty, 174
120–121 al-Mu‘tamid (Abbasid caliph), 59
astronomy, 136 al-Mutanabbı̄ , Abū ’l-Tayyib Ahmad, 76
cultural impact, 135–137 ˙
al-Mu‘tasim (Abbasid˙caliph), 58–59
defeat by Mamluks, 121–122 ˙
al-Mutawakkil (Abbasid caliph), 59
dynastic legitimation, 235 Mutayr tribe, 220
economic impact, 132–135 ˙
mythology
economic inequality, 134–135 Biblical, 12, 13–14
formation, 110–112 Mesopotamia, 1–2, 14
four dynastic branches, 116–118 Oghuz Khan, 157, 159, 227–228
imperial centers, 120 Temür, 159, 188
Iranian-Mongol acculturation, 109–110,
120, 125–126, 138 Nabataean kingdom, 31
keshig (imperial guard), 111, 115, 135 Nā dir Shā h Afshar, 186–189, 193, 197,
Khorasan conquest, 114 208
legacy, 137–138 Najd region, 30
method of campaigns, 112–113 Nā sir al-Dawla (Hasan), 68–69
Middle East campaign, 112–116 Nā ˙sir al-Dı̄ n Shā h,
˙ 210
nomadism, 128–130 Nas˙ ı̄ r al-Dı̄ n Tū sı̄ , 136
ordos (royal camps), 128, 131–132 ˙ ̄ z, Emir,
Nawru ˙ 124, 125
overthrow of Abbasid Caliphate, 121 Nizā m al-Mulk (vizier), 96, 99, 102, 104
political infighting, 119–120 ˙
nomad dynasties, 73–77
religious belief, 135 nomad-sedentary relations
tamma troops, 128 army looting, 94–95
taxation, 118, 127, 133–134 decline of cities, 77–78
trade, 134 friction, 194
Transoxiana administration, 115 land laws, 205–206
Transoxiana conquest, 112, 114 and nomad military power, 15
tribalism, 130–132 pre-Islamic era, 29–32
tümens (regiments), 111, 131–132 Rashidun Caliphate, 38–39, 41, 45–49
Turco-Mongolian elite, 138, 139, 142 reciprocal nature, 193
yasa (code/customs), 135–136, 154 state-building, 232–234
see also Ilkhanid dynasty nomads
Mongols, steppe identity, 120 animal products, 13, 37, 38, 192, 193,
Mosul 230, 231, 239
agriculture, 63 animals, 5–7, 50–51, 81, 194
Buyid rule, 72 see also camels; horses; pasture (summer/
Hamdanid dynasty, 68–69 winter); sheep
Qaraqoyunlu, 145 declining power in twentieth century,
relations with nomads, 193 239–241
Seljuqid dynasty, 93, 104 definition, 5
‘Uqaylid rule, 74, 232–233 early nomads, 18–20
motor transport, 226–227, 229 economic strategies, 192, 193, 201
Mu‘ā wiya (Umayyad caliph), 43–44, 50 health, 16
Muhammad ‘Alı̄ , 203 interwar era, 217–222
Muh˙ ammad b. al-Musayyib, 74 khuwwa payments, 192–193, 201–202,
Muh˙ ammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhā b, 190–191 203, 204, 205
Muh˙ ammad Khudā banda, Shā h, 177 lifestyle, 3–4, 5–7
Muh˙ ammad Khwā razmshā h, Sultā n, 112 Middle East migrations, 167
˙
Muhammad ˙
Reza Shah Pahlavi, 226, 228 Mongol Empire, 128–130
Muhammad Shā h, 209 Ottoman Empire, 158, 180–183
˙ al-Dawla, Ahmad, 71
Mu‘izz population numbers (Safavid and
˙
Murā d I, Sultā n, 144 Ottoman domains), 191–192, 195
˙
Seljuq Empire (cont.) Suleimā n Qā nū nı̄ (Kanuni), Sultā n, 180
”Iraqis,” 91 Sultā n Husayn, Shā h, 174 ˙
local commanders, 98 ˙ ˙ 119, 134, 136–137, 149
Sultaniyya,
nomad Turkmen, 98 Sumerian mythology, 1–2
Oghuz Turks (Turkmen), 81 Sütay Noyan, 132
”Saljuqiyan,” 91 Syria
separate ethnic spheres, 101–102 French Mandate, 220, 221–222
steppe identity, 102–103, 108 Turkmen, 129
Turco-Iranian synthesis, 82, 108
Turkish social practices, 103 Tabriz, 134, 136, 158, 160, 163–164,
victory over Ghaznavids, 89–91 171, 176
viziers, 102 Tadmor, 22, 31
women’s status, 103–104 see also Palmyra
see also Toghril, Sultā n Taghay Temür, 142
Shā hnā ma, 83, 87, 137 ˙ Taghlib tribe, 50–51, 68
Shā hrukh, Sultā n, 154, 155, 164 Tahmā sp, Shā h, 175–176, 178, 186
˙
Shā hsevā n confederation, 186, 208, 209 ˙
Tamerlane see Temür (Tamerlane)
Shamlu tribe, 171, 175–176, 179–180 Tanzimat reforms, 199, 203–206, 227
Shammar confederation, 191, 201, taxation
204, 207 Buyid dynasty, 72
Shammar Jarbā tribe, 220 Hamdanid dynasty, 78–79
Shaybā n tribe, 71, 72 Ilkhanid dynasty, 127
Shaykh Hasan Jalayir, 140–141 Mongol Empire, 118, 127, 133–134
˙
Shaykh Uways Jalayir, 141, 163 nomads, 194–195
sheep, 5, 6–7, 29, 30, 50–51, 68, 81, 88, pre-Islamic era, 33, 36
153, 192, 222, 231, 238 Rashidun Caliphate, 39, 42
Shiraz Turkmen, 106
Buyid court, 76 see also khuwwa payments
Pahlavi dynasty, 224 Tayy tribe, 201
Persian culture, 163–164 ˙
Tegüder Ahmad Khan, 124
Qashqa’i, 211 ˙ 171, 175–176, 178, 179–180
Tekkelu tribe,
trade routes, 210 Temür (Tamerlane)
under Karim Khan, 189–190 achievements, 140, 146
Shu‘ū biyya movement, 60–61 administration, 154, 155
Sneath, David, 10–11 ambitions against China, 150, 153
Soghdians, 83 army, 148, 153
source material, 15, 16–18, 191, 200 defeat of Sultan Bayezid, 151–152
state-building, 12–13, 27, 65–67, 73–77, Delhi campaign, 150
167, 232–234 early campaign successes, 148–149
steamships, 203 early life, 91, 147–148
steppe nomads genealogical legends, 157, 159, 188
animals, 6–7, 81 Islamic world ambitions, 149–150
dynastic legitimation, 234–235 Mamluk Sultanate claims, 150–151
frontier, 82–83 method of campaigns, 149
heritage, 187–188 and nomads, 154
historical empires, 24–26 Perso-Islamic culture, 154
Iranian-Turkish relations, 83–84 Samarkand convocation, 153
Mongol identity, 120 and tribes, 153
Seljuq identity, 102–103, 108 Ulus Chaghatay conquest, 148
state-building, 12–13, 233–234 unfulfilled ambitions, 152
Turks/Turkmen nomads, 57, 98 tents, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
yurts, 7, 8, 9 Terken Khatun, 99, 104
see also Turco-Mongolian nomads Thimā l Mirdā sı̄ , 76
Sübedei (Chinggis Khan follower), 112 Timurid dynasty
Suldus tribe, 147, 153 administration, 155