The History of China - #162 - Mongol 4: The Great Khan

Episode Date: March 16, 2019

Temujin Khan crushes his enemies, sees them driven before him, and hears the lamentations of their women!!! Time Period Covered: ca. 1202-1206 CE Major Historical Figures: Borjigin/Mongol: Temujin (Genghis Khan) Khasar, Temujin's Brother Börte - Temujin's 1st Wife Yesugen - Temujin's 2nd Wife Yesui - Temujin's 3rd Wife Jochi, Temujin's first son(?) Jirkho’adai (Jebe the Arrow) Khubilai Jelme Subedei Jadaran: Jamukha (Gurkhan) - Temujin's anda/nemesis Kereyid: To'oril (Ong Khan) Senggum, Ong's son Cha'ur Beki, Ong's daughter Naiman: Tayang Khan Queen Gürbesu, Tayang's Wife/Stepmother Works Cited: Allsen, Thomas (1994). “The Rise of the Mongolian Empire and Mongolian Rule in North China” in The Cambridge History of China, Vol. 6: Alien Regimes and Border States. Kahn, Paul (tr.) (2005). The Secret History of the Mongols: The Origin of Chingis Khan. Onon, Urgunge (2001). The Secret History of the Mongols: The Life and Times of Chingghis Khan. Ostrowski, Donald (2002). Muscovy and the Mongols: Cross-Cultural Influences on the Steppe Frontier, 1304-1589. Pelliot, Paul (1959). Notes on Marco Polo, Vol. 1. Weatherford, Jack (2005). Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World. Weatherford, Jack (2017). Genghis Khan and the Quest for God. Weatherford, Jack (2011). The Secret History of the Mongol Queens. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. Have you ever gazed in wonder at the Great Pyramid? Have you marveled at the golden face of Tutankhamun? Or admired the delicate features of Queen Nefertiti? If you have, you'll probably like the History of Egypt podcast. Every week, we explore tales of this ancient culture. The History of Egypt is available wherever you get your podcasting fix. Come, let me introduce you to the world of ancient Egypt.

Hello, and welcome to the History of China. Episode 162, The Great Khan. Because you could not master whatever enmeshed you, you became its slave. You learned this bitterly, early. In order not to become its slave, you had to become its master. You became its master. Even as master, of course, you remain its slave. From the Fourth Hour of the Night by Frank Bedard Temujin Khan and his horde, the Borjigid, had crushed the Tai Chiud on the shores of the Onon and rounded them up near to the last man.

It had almost cost the Khan his life, however, as an arrow had pierced his neck. Now with the Tai Chiud leaders executed and the remainders captive of the Mongols, Temujin aimed to find out who had been the archer that had shot him. He called out to the assembled prisoners. During the battle, from the top of the mountain range, an arrow streaked down and struck my yellow warhorse in the nape of its neck, killing it.

Here, Temujin concealed the truth that it had been him and not his horse, thus struck. He went on, demanding, Who shot that arrow from the mountaintop? It must have been a long and tense silence that settled over the imprisoned Taichud, for they could imagine only one fate for someone who had taken such a shot at the Mongol Khan. But at last, a young warrior called Jerhoadai of the Besud stepped forward, confessing plainly, I shot the arrow from the mountaintop.

If I am to be put to death by the Khan, then I shall be left to rot on a piece of ground the size of the palm of a hand. Confessing plainly, At your word, I will go forward and smash the blue stones. If you order me to attack, I will smash the black stones. No matter how difficult your orders, I will follow them absolutely. I will attack for you. End quote. Temujin considered this. It had been a tremendous shot to strike him from such an extreme distance, even by the Mongol standard of archery. And this man showed remarkable bravery and honesty in freely confessing to what he knew must be a sentence of death. At last, the Khan replied, Face with those he has killed and those who have been his enemies. A true enemy hides and

tells lies. Here, however, the contrary is true. Faced with those he's killed and those who have been his enemies, this man does not deny his feelings or his actions. On the contrary, he admits them. This is a man to keep as a nocor, a true companion in word and deed. His name was Jerhoadai. But as he pierced my warhorse's neck with his arrow, so shall he be called henceforth. He shall be Jib, the Arrowhead, and I shall use him as my arrow.

Thus with Jib the Arrow as his newest companion and weapon of war, following their victory over the Jadaran and the Taiichi Ud, his ally and sworn father, Ong Khan of the Karyid, had ordered him to crush their mutual enemy once and for all. Ong himself would commit his forces closer to home against the remaining Merkits, as the chieftain of the Karyids was by now aged and lacked the vigor of his youth. It was now early spring of the Year of the Dog, 1202, in which Temujin would ride east to the Kalkha River, where the Tatars were encamped, and crush them. On the eve of this campaign, before setting out, he called his warriors together and issued to them a stern warning. There would be some changes in the course of this campaign. He had realized in the course of his successful campaigns that oftentimes his own

soldiers would break off the pursuit of a foe in flight to simply turn and plunder their abandoned belongings. This had often, as not, allowed large groups of a defeated enemy to make good on their retreat, and to regroup and fight another day. This was unacceptable. Thus it was that Temujin decreed that the primary and only point of this assault on the Tatars was their complete and utter destruction. Their wealth and property were only to be thought of after the last of their mortal foes had been crushed under heel. If we triumph over the enemy, he spoke, let us not stop for booty. When we have completed the victory, will the booty not all be ours? Then we will divide it amongst ourselves. If the enemy forces us to retreat, let us return to the place from where we The attack would begin that autumn and was, by all accounts, an entirely one-sided affair. Alson writes that the attack, quote,

resulted in a crushing defeat for the Jatars along the Kalka River. The survivors were rounded up, penned, and then mercilessly put to the sword. Only women and children were spared. Another old score was satisfactorily settled. Yesge had been avenged, and his son was now master of all of eastern Mongolia." It is here where one of Temujin's most infamous orders is recorded, that all Tatar males were to be marched by an ox cart, and all of them taller than the linchpin, a sign of manhood, were to have their heads stricken from their bodies at once.

Yet in the aftermath of this horrific slaughter of the adult males, Temujin once again tempered this by taking those remaining Tatars into his own clan as full members, rather than as abject slaves, an act symbolized yet again by the Khan giving one of the orphaned Tatar boys as an adoptive son to his mother, Hoylun. In addition, Temujin would now take his second-ever wife. Bort would remain his first and primary love, but the political necessities of securing his rule over the Tatars, whose reputation and influence was far greater than his still largely unknown bands, necessitated that he personally marry

into them. Thus it was that he chose two maiden sisters of the Tatar nobility, named Yesagin and Yesui, as his second and third wives, respectively. In time, the reputation of the Mongols would intertwine so completely with that of the Tatars that from Asia to Europe and beyond, in the centuries to come, the two clan names would be used virtually interchangeably. In the flush of victory, several of his soldiers forgot their Khan's orders against premature looting and broke off to indulge themselves of the Tatar's belongings.

But Temujin hadn't been kidding, yet neither was he completely heartless. His edict had, after all, broke with millennia-old tradition amongst the steppe riders, and he seemed to understand that his followers would need some time and strict instruction to adjust to this new order. He would not, in the end, execute the infractors, as he had earlier threatened, but he would exact a harsh punishment. Those who had looted before the battle was won would be stripped of such possessions they'd taken and denied their share of the wealth collected after the battle. The message was clear. It is following this great victory against the Tatar's and the inclusion of their many thousands

into his own band that Temujin would realize that if he were going to be able to effectively and permanently knit together this patchwork quilt of peoples who had long held each other as foe, he would need to further break up the very idea of individual clan and loyalty to that, rather than the nation writ large that he was in the process of building. He would therefore conduct a massive overhaul in the military and overall lifestyle organization of his heterogeneous Mongol force. He ordered that, irrespective of tribe or clan, his men and their households would be placed into squadrons of ten soldiers apiece called an arban, to live, work, and fight together thereafter as brothers. And as was true of blood brothers, so too would be true of these Mongol squadrons.

It was made illegal to leave a squadmate behind in battle to be taken captive, and the abandonment of one as such would result in the execution of the rest. These Arbonne were themselves grouped by tens into Zagun, or companies, ten of these into a battalion, or Mingan, and finally ten Mingan into a Tumen, a Mongol army of 10,000. Weatherford states that at the time of this mass reorganization, circa 1203, Tamajin reportedly commanded 95 Mingan, or supposedly 95,000 warriors. It goes on to say that because most of these were not filled to capacity as yet,

estimates of actual Mongol strength at this point go as low as 80,000. Regardless of the specific figure one chooses to accept, this is by any reckoning a truly massive and formidable force, a truth that Ong Khan was at last realizing. Ong realized that his son, Tamajin, was no longer a subordinate to be controlled or manipulated, but an equal, and more than that, a potential rival, one whose ambitions and desire for power seemed as limitless as the great blue sky. Such ambitions might one day be turned against him and his chariot. The aged Ong, it seems, did not wish to test his mettle against that of Temujin and his Mongols.

Instead, he sought compromise. After inviting the Mongol Khan to his capital on the Tula, the two reaffirmed their vows of treating each other as father and son. Here Ong went one further, legitimating their bond as actual rather than fictive kinship, and offering the young Borjigin chieftain status as the legitimate heir of the cariad. Allison writes, Thus the aging cariad could live out his days in tranquility and honor, legitimate heir of the Karyid. Allison writes, Temujin, of course, readily accepted such an offer. Yet Ong Khan's natural son, Senghum, quite understandably took exception to his suddenly being boxed out of the inheritance

that he had been expecting. Sangum, written of as a man of who was described by his father as instead bent his father's ear, urging him to turn against this upstart blackbone commoner, lest he jeopardize the whole noble house. Ong, old and, as ever, all too pliable, listened, and in time agreed that it was best that he act against Temujin rather than allow him to be upjumped.

The issue would come to a boil when Temujin sought the hand of Ong's daughter, Chao Urbeki, on behalf of his own eldest son, Zhouji. Yet by the time Temujin sent his missive requesting the marriage, Aung's mind had been so poisoned against him by the whisperings of Senggong that he sent the messenger back with a haughtily dismissive reply, according to the writings of Marco Polo a century later, quote, Is not Genghis Khan ashamed to seek my daughter in marriage? Does he not know that he is my vassal and my thrall? of Marco Polo a century later, quote, Polo apparently misunderstood the specific nature of the request and seems to have assumed that Temujin was asking for Chawarbeki for himself rather than for his son, but even so, the tone is clear enough. Temujin is written in the secret history as having been displeased and disappointed by such a brush-off. Through all of this, however, there was a man behind the man behind the man. Oung was weak-willed and old, and Sang-goon could barely string a bow.

No, there was a far greater threat pulling the strings of this situation. Temujin's old anda and current nemesis. Down but not out, and operating from the shadows to try to eliminate his one-time brother, Damaka. He'd been himself in secret communications with the son of Aum, telling him, quote, My sworn brother. His mouth says father and son, but his heart speaks differently. How can you be so trusting? What do you think will happen to you if you do not attack him by surprise? If you ride out against Anda Temujin, I shall enter from the flank. Together we will Sangum in turn attempted to convince his father, who, though initially shocked and dismayed at such a suggestion,

finally gave in to his son's prodding, calling him to his gur and saying, quote, not love us. How can you ask me to forsake my son Tamajin? But I know you will do what you can, and thus I leave you in charge." Sengum, with Ong Han's tacit approval and aid, sent word to Tamajin that the old Khan had changed his mind about the marriage proposal, and that he now welcomed the match between Tarabeki and Jochi, seeking to set a date and place for the betrothal feast. In truth, however, it would be a deadly ambush. When Tamajin and his family arrived, the Cariades and the Jatarans would spring the trap closed and annihilate the Borjigin upstarts once and for all.

Tamajin, unawares, was quite happy at this unexpected turnaround by the Cariad chieftain, and rode out in the company of just a few dozen men. Yet on the way, one of his bands spoke up, saying that it was truly odd that Ong Khan had suddenly changed his mind, and after so harshly dismissing Tamajin's proposal at first, it seemed fishy. He advised Tamajin to offer up some excuse, say that the Mongol herds were too thin and needed to be moved to more verdant pastures, and so could not meet at the appointed time and place, but would send instead two of his companions. When these two arrived at the feast instead of the Mongol Khan himself,

Sangam realized that his trap had been sniffed out, and resolved to ride out that night, surround the Khan's encampment, and exterminate them. Yet word of this change of plan, as it so often does, leaked. Upon learning from a herdsman of the coming attack, Tamajin did the only thing that he could do with his small honor guard, and so far from his main military force. He ordered them to immediately disperse in all directions to throw off any pursuers, while he made his way at full gallop eastward toward his main order. Upon reaching a body of water known as the Baljana,

variously reported as a river and also as a lake, he counted his men and realized that only 19 had arrived with him. Here, the secret history tells of an event with the aura of divine intervention. Starving and drinking from the Baljana's bitter waters, the small band caught sight of a wild horse. Temujin's brother, Hasar, the only member of the band who was of Temujin's own blood, set out and slew the beast, and they boiled its flesh in its own skin, making a feast for themselves

in the oldest and most customary fashion of the steppe. Weatherford writes, The horse symbolized the powerppe. Weatherford writes, With only the muddy water of Baljana to drink at the end of the horse-flesh meal, Tamajin Khan raised one hand to the sky, and with the other he held up the muddy water of Baljana as a toast. He thanked his men for their loyalty and swore to never forget it. The men shared in drinking the muddy waters and swore eternal allegiance to him. In the retelling of the episode in oral history, it became known as the Baljana Covenant,

and acquired a mythic aura as the lowest point of the military fortunes of Temujin Khan, but also as the event out of which the identity and form of the Mongol Empire would arise. The 19 men among him came from nine different tribes and four different faiths, including Christians, Muslims, and Buddhists, in addition to Temujin's own Tangri shamanism. Yet all of that they could transcend, and through that unity, a bond not of blood but mutual love, they could achieve what no steppe rider had in centuries, a unified Mongolia. Temüjin and his small band hid out, and managed to evade their carried pursuers, withdrawing at last southward to the shifting sands of the Halakhajid desert. There, he was able at last to get word to shifting sands of the Halakhajid desert.

There he was able at last to get word to his followers of what had happened, no doubt including the tale of the horse and the great covenant, and ordering them to amass for a counterattack on the treacherous Karyid Khan and mete out the vengeance that he was due. That autumn, he found that his word had resounded across the steppe, and by the tens, hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands, his patchwork nation had dutifully reassembled itself under his command at the confluence of the Onon and the Karaloon rivers, ready, willing, and able to mete out the full measure of Mongol justice upon the Karyids and Jataran. All of this, somehow, seems to have completely escaped the notice of Ong Khan, Zangum, and even Jamukha beside. This was greatly aided by Tamajin's brother, who had left his own family as hostages of the Karyid and set out to find his elder brother, ostensibly to report their location back as a spy to Ong. But when Khasar met up with his brothers at Baljana, he reaffirmed his loyalty and sent two riders bearing a message back to the Khan.

Quote, I sought my older brother, but he has disappeared. I searched for his tracks, but failed to find them. I shouted, but my echo was the only reply. I lie here now in the dirt, staring up at the stars. I know my family is safe with the Khan. Return my messenger with your reply, and I shall return to the Khan my I know my family is safe with the Khan. Return my messenger with your reply, and I shall return to the Khan my father." Ong Khan received this message very gratefully indeed.

Though their attempt to destroy the Borjigin Khan and his family had failed, they determined that he must have been driven far off to the east, his people scattered once again, and into what would, hopefully, be a permanent exile. Such it was that Ong ordered his great golden tent to be erected and a grand feast of celebration proclaimed. Khasar's messengers were sent back to relay the Khan's instructions to return to him, but with these two, Ong sent a man of his own. With little else that they could do, the two Mongols rode unconcernedly alongside their minder to the appointed spot along the Keralun where Tamajin and his vast force had assembled. From the Secret History,

One of the Mongols, on a much swifter horse, cut the fleeing Karayid off, while a second took aim with his bow. A single arrow was all it took to bring the Cariad spy's black horse down, and he was swiftly captured. Dragged before Tamajin, he was dismissed from the Khan's sight without interrogation, saying only, take him to Kassar, let my brother decide his fate. Kassar wanted nothing from this man either, however, and cut him down on the spot and cast his body aside. Their secrecy intact, the two messengers reported their findings to the Mongol Khan. Quote,

Ong Khan was unconcerned. He had put up his golden gir and was feasting. Let us quickly change our horses, travel through the night, take them by surprise and surround them. Quote, Demijin approved of this plan, and his force rode out at once, swiftly surrounding the unaware Cariad camp in the night and putting it to a three-day siege. By the third day of fighting, the Cariads had exhausted their fighting spirit and opted to surrender. Yet somehow in the night, and by an unknown means, Ong K'an and his son had slipped through

the Mongol encirclement and made good their escape, fleeing the central steppes entirely. Ong would flee alone, once again seeking out the protection of the Naiman tribe, and wait out his exile, while his son Sangum fled to the south, also alone save for one servant, who would ultimately betray him, leaving him to die of thirst in the desert. Jamukha and the remnant of his own shrinking band likewise were forced to flee west to the land of the Naiman. In spite of the old Khan's escape, this would prove the decisive victory of the Mongols over the Karyans. Weatherford puts it, quote, Onk Khan's army was not so much defeated as it was

swallowed by Tamajin's forces, end quote. They were, like all the others, divided up as the lowest tier of the Borjigin's ever-growing extended family. Moreover, this gave the Mongols control over the Orkhon River Valley, with easy access to the Ordos Loop of the Yellow River and the endless riches of China beyond, through trade or otherwise. As the Mongol tales tell it, though Jamukha would indeed find safe harbor among the Naimans, thus marking them out as Tamajin's next target, Ongkakan would not fare nearly so well. Fleeing alone, he was intercepted along the borderlands, where a patrolling guard refused to believe that a lone old man could possibly be the Khan of the

Karyans, and slew him. The stories go on to tell that, much to the horror of any Mongol who heard them, the Naiman queen, the Khan's mother, had ordered Ong's head removed and placed within her gur to be offered music and daily gifts in an attempt to appease the old Khan's spirit for the slight he had received. To the highly superstitious and death-and-gore-averse Mongols, bringing a dead man's severed head into one's own house would have been just about the most horrific thing imaginable.

Not only was it a mutilated body part that would have shown the severed skin and flesh and blood, but as the man's head, it was the very seat of his soul, and likely to cause terrible, evil, supernatural chaos. The tale went on that when the queen's son, Taeyang Han, had returned to his home to find this ghoulish shrine constructed, he had panicked and screamed that the severed head had smiled at him, Taiyang Han, had returned to his home to find this ghoulish shrine constructed. He had panicked and screamed that the severed head had smiled at him, and then proceeded to kick it off of its dais and stomp it to pieces. It concludes with the ill omen that as the queen chastised her lord's son for such an evil action, in the distance, dogs began barking for no discernible reason. A terribly ominous sign. Napoleon Bonaparte rose from obscurity to become the most powerful and significant figure in modern history. Over 200 years after his death, people are still debating his legacy. He was a man of

contradictions, a tyrant and a reformer, a liberator and an oppressor, a revolutionary and a reactionary. His biography reads like a novel, and his influence is almost beyond measure. I'm Everett Rumage, host of the Age of Napoleon podcast, and every month I delve into the turbulent life and times of one of the greatest characters in history, and explore the world that shaped him in all its glory and tragedy. It's a story of great battles and campaigns, political intrigue, and massive social and economic change, but it's also a story about people, populated with remarkable characters. I hope you'll join me as I examine this fascinating

era of history. Find The Age of Napoleon wherever you get your podcasts. Were such stories true? It's exceedingly difficult to say, especially as it's noted that Tamajin was more and more using one of the most powerful tools in his arsenal, psychological manipulation, of both his own people as well as that of his enemies. Such a tale served that function well, in that it both angered his people and made them believe that the Naiman Khan was a weak-willed and imbecilic fool. After all, none but the truly mad would so disrespect the head of a Khan, even in a great panic. Further stories were told to rile up the Mongols' anger at their soon-to-be enemies,

such as that the Naiman Queen, when the Khan had announced his intention to make war on Temujin's horde and capture them, had derisively replied, quote, And what would you do with them once they're captured? They stink and their clothes are filthy. They live far from us and let them stay far from us, so that their smell does not come upon us. However, perhaps we can bring their daughters and girls here. If we can get them to wash their hands and feet, they might prove suitable to milk our cows and goats at least. True or not, Taeyang Han was at least aware of his predicament enough to seek out help.

The Naiman were still numerically superior to the Mongols, but so too had been the Karyid and the Tatars before them, all of them that now rode beneath Temujin's horsehair spirit banner. Thus, Taiyang sent word to the Khan of the Onguds, a band that prowled the deserts and wastes of the Ordos between the Jin Empire, Xisha, and Mongolia proper, proposing an alliance against the rising Mongol menace. The Ongud Khan, however, clearly knew which way the wind was blowing, and rebuffed the Naimon offer curtly, resolving to leave them to whatever fate might hold in store for them. With Jamaka now among them, the Naimon Khan asked the one-time Anda of Tamajin just what this foe they were facing down was like.

The secret history takes particular pleasure in spelling out the terrible and inhuman portrait that Jamaka supposedly painted of their foe, saying, quote, My sworn brother has four ravenous hounds raised on human flesh. Up until now they have been chained, but now they have been set loose against us. These beasts have chisels for snouts and sharpened awls for tongues. With hearts of iron and whips for swords, eating the dew and riding the wind, they go. They kill for days on end without pause, feasting on the flesh of the fallen.

Fighting on for days, they take men's flesh as their only provisions. They are now on their way to us, their jaws slavering with joy. You ask me who these hellhounds are? Their names are Jeb, Kublai, Jelm, and Subedai, and they answer to my sworn brother alone. End quote. This seems like a singularly unlikely description to have actually been given by Jamukha to his own ally on the eve of battle, and was almost certainly used by the Mongols themselves to psych themselves up. In fact, when the Naiman captured a Mongol scout, the mount he rode was so skinny and undernourished,

and the saddle this rider sat upon so primitive, that he was sent in chains back to the Naiman Khan, and thereafter from camp to camp as a joke, just to show how pathetic this force was. But the Mongol psyops weren't over quite yet. As a counter for their inferior numbers and quality of, well, everything, Temujin ordered that as they approached the Naiman positions, every night each man in his army was responsible for setting and maintaining no fewer than five campfires.

Thus, when the Naiman scouts looked out over the hills at the approaching Mongol force, skinny horses and primitive saddles or no, their numbers appeared to be more numerous than the stars in the sky. This upcoming clash, what would prove to be the final battle for control of Mongolia, would occur in 1204, some 300 miles west of Berkhan Khaldun. Rather than risking his entire force in one pitched encounter, and given his inferior numbers, such a strategy would have been a dicey proposition at best, Temujin used his new and improved Base 10 squadron system

to organize his forces into pinprick, hit-and-run skirmishes to whittle down the Naiman army's strength, bit by bit, while conserving his own. Again from Weatherford, quote, In the first episode, Tamajin ordered his men to advance in what was called a moving bush or tumbleweed formation just before daylight. Rather than large units racing in to attack, the dispersed squads of ten advanced severally and silently from different directions while keeping their profiles low in the pre-dawn darkness. This prevented the enemy from seeing how many there were

or from preparing for an attack from a single direction. Following this first strike, the squadrons would break, turn, and ride away at top speed in different directions, confounding any attempt to ride them all down in retaliation. Another tactic employed soon thereafter was called the Lake Formation, in which several long lines of troops would be arrayed, one behind the next. The first would ride up into range of the enemy, fire off their volley, and then break off, to be replaced by the second line, and then the third, and so on, thus allowing the first line to reform at the rear and prepare for their next charge.

This was not a winning strategy in itself, as the Naiman could, and did, form their own units into a long, thin front to better counter the rolling lake. Once they'd done so, however, Tamajin's troops had been trained to rapidly reform into a third formation, specifically designed to exploit their enemy's response, the Chisel. In this, the Mongol force would pack itself into a narrow but deep formation, and punch a hole at a single point in the Naimon's stretched thin battle line, thus breaking them into two and better able to be rolled up and picked off in turn. Weatherford writes that none of these tricks were brand new in and of themselves. They were amalgamations of ancient hunting and warfare strategies adopted over the centuries, but by cycling through them so quickly and in a fashion of total discipline and yet

unpredictable to the enemy, he'd made them something uniquely his own. Quote, Temujin had produced a new type of steppe army based on a greater variety of tactics and, most important, close cooperation among the men and complete obedience to their commanders. They were no longer an attacking swarm of individuals. They were now a united formation. End quote. Such discipline had never been seen in the steppe. Employed by a steppe force before and against such confounding tactics in such short order, the Niemanns would become the first of many to understand firsthand just how devastatingly effective such a united force could be. That night, though many of his men wished to race in and finish the job once and for all, Tamajin held them back, telling them to sleep soundly, and that the battle would resume the

following day. In stark contrast, in the moonless darkness on the other side of the battlefield, it was a scene of chaos. Broken, disoriented, and cut off from their lines of communication with one another, many of the Naiman warriors opted to try to flee rather than face another day of this terrifying new style of fighting that the Mongols had brought to bear against them. The only problem was that their only route of escape was down a treacherous mountain gorge, and the night was pitch black.

It was a recipe for disaster. From the secret history, quote, That night, the Naimans tried to escape. While moving, they rolled down from the summit of Nakhukhun, piling on top of one another. Their bones were smashed and fell to pieces, crushed like rotten logs. Thus, they died. End quote. Arising the next morning, the Mongols once again rode out for the Naiman line,

only to find that there was hardly one left. Though a few had stayed, the bulk of their enemy army had fled, and many had perished in the attempt. It's not even termed a battle by the Mongols that second day, but simply that, quote, the following day, Tamajin Khan finished off Payong Khan, end quote. The rest was as predictable at this point as it was terrible. Those leaders who were captured were put to the sword, and the other men, women, and children taken as slaves of the Mongols. Here, the story of the Naiman Queen and her evident disdain for the Mongols completes in horrific enough fashion. Taken captive, she was dragged before Temujin in his camp.

The victorious Khan, recalling what the Naimon queen had supposedly said about the stench of his people, called down to the captive woman now stripped bare before him. Quote, Did you not once say that the Mongols stank, and that you'd keep us far away from you? And yet, here we are, and here you are. How curious. End quote. The secret history then intones darkly that Temujin Khan then took her as his wife. For all of this, Jamukha had somehow managed to slip through Temujin's grasp once again,

slipping into the forests and disappearing the night before. Yet he and his power were fundamentally broken. With no allies left to take him in or protect him, the once noble white-boned chieftain of the Jadaran now, ironically, lived much as his Anda once had as a child. Outcast, nearly alone, and near starvation on the very fringes of the steppe, eking out the barest existence through scavenging, hunting, and gathering. Even this spare existence wouldn't even last out the year, as in early 1205 the last five of Jamukha's retainers, starving and resigned to defeat, seized him, bound him, and delivered him to Tamajin's feet.

These men had doubtless done so in the belief that their service to the Mongol Khan would be rewarded, or at least that their earlier offenses against him and his clan forgiven now that they'd delivered his nemesis to him. They could scarce have been more wrong. It's quite obvious that they'd never heard the tale of what had happened to the servant of Sangum of the Cariad, who'd taken his lord's horse and ridden off, leaving him to die of thirst in the desert. When this faithless servant had reported his deed back to the victorious Temujin, rather than reward him, he found his head quickly separated from the soldiers. The Mongol Khan had no trust and even less pity for those who would betray their lawful masters,

as Jamukha's betrayers would also swiftly come to find. Before the still-bound Jamukha, having listened to his Andaz captor's tale, he gave them the same reward, immediate execution, spilling their blood into the dirt then and there. Now Temujin turned to his nemesis, his brother, at long last in his power and at his mercy, and spoke to him not as some imperious victor, but as a beseeching equal desperately seeking his brother's forgiveness and cooperation. Quote,

After all this time, we are joined back together at last. Let us be companions, forever joined like the two wheel shafts of a cart, and remind each other of those things that we once shared, now long forgotten. We should wake each other from our sleep. Even when many leagues separated us, you were still my lucky and blessed Anda in my heart and never anything other. Surely your heart ached too for me,

for us to return to the way things once were when we killed and fought side by side. Surely your bosom and your heart also ached for me in these hard days of slaying and being slain. Let us reforge our bond anew. End quote. At this, Jamukha likewise waxed nostalgic, recalling in a lengthy monologue the days of old, their relationship, and their bond, remembering the oaths that they had taken and that they ate the food not to be digested, referring to the sips of each other's blood they had swallowed. Going on, Jamukha offered, according to the Secret History, a lengthy confession and repentance, blaming just

about any and everything for his betrayal of Temujin in a grandiose manner that Weatherford suggests, quote, invites suspicion regarding its accuracy. Weatherford summarizes it well, saying, quote, almost like a modern lawyer pleading for mercy based on psychological problems and emotional disability, Jamukha explained laconically that he himself had lost both of his parents, had no siblings or trusted companions, and had a shrew for a wife. Yet at the end of all of this, Jamukha did not beg the Khan's mercy or for his life, but rather only for a swift and noble death. In spite of all that, I swear I will never accede to your power.

What you must do is kill me. Alive, I will escape. I will rally your enemies. I will never accede to your power. What you must do is kill me. Alive, I will escape. I will rally your enemies. I shall never accede to your power. Dead, I'll just be one more set of bones, fool enough to have resisted you. I ask only that you do not break my skin or shed my blood when you kill me. Give me a noble's death. Do that, and then bury my bones atop a high mountain. In life, I will never acede to your power, but grant me this death I desire, and in that death I swear I shall watch over you. Then, eternally and forever, I will protect the seed of your seed and become a blessing to them.

Remember my words. Think of them at night and when you look at the rising sun each morning. Remind your family and your clansmen of them. Now, put a quick end to me. Still, Tamajin hesitated. For months, he hesitated. He was confused. Jamaka had said that he wished to die, but that seemed an indication that his stated wishes should not be honored.

Healthy men do not wish to die, and it would be unjust to so punish a mentally unwell man. Yet he had also made clear that he would accept no pardon from Temujin, and would forever resist him as long as he lived. After much thought, Temujin finally acceded to his sworn brother's request. He killed him without shedding his blood, likely strangled, drowned, or trampled, and then buried him with all the noble honors due him at the summit of a mountain. Legendarily at the service, Tamajin laid down in his anda's grave the golden belt that he'd once given Jamukha when they'd sworn oaths to each other. Jamukha had been Tamajin's first and truest friend, and so it's both fitting and also ironic that he would end his life as the very last

of the Mongol Khan's aristocratic rivals on the steppe. Though there were still rebel elements of Merkids, Naimon, and the forest tribes who had yet to be fully subjugated, in truth there was no longer any significant force that could hope to stand against Tamajin's complete hegemony over the whole of Mongolia. For the first time in centuries, the steppe stood united under the spirit banner of a single, indomitable Khan. Yet sheer power and force of arms would not be enough to make him the ruler of all who dwelt in felt tents, in truth. There was tradition and ceremony to take into account. Oaths and promises must be exchanged. The blessing of heaven and earth sought. In other words, it was time for another Heral-Tai.

It was 1206, the year of the tiger by the Chinese calendar, and at a location kept specifically secret by Mongols since that time, but almost undoubtedly within the shadow of Berkhan Khaldun at the source of the Onun River, the conclave was called. As before, those summoned gave their assent simply by arriving at the appointed place in time, and those who might choose to abstain could not be claimed to be ruled by the Khan, but neither could they seek out his aid or protection. Temujin's first kurultai that had made him Khan of the Borjigid had been a rather modest affair. Strict counts of the number of clans that had attended two decades prior had been lost, since it had likely been a pretty paltry show at the time. 1206, however, was something altogether different.

Though again no comprehensive record of the families and clans in attendance was kept, it's made abundantly clear by the two and a half chapters the Secret History devotes to the affair that everyone, who was anyone, was there to lend their support. Weatherford writes, quote, Tens of thousands of animals grazed nearby to provide milk and meat for the festivities. The lines of gurs stretched for miles in every direction from the camps of Temujin, and at the center of it all stood the horsehair sulb, the spirit banner that had guided Temujin

to this event." Made from the tails of nine snow-white horses, the spirit banner blew this way and that in the shiftless winds of the steppes, advertising the good fortune, personal charisma, and sheer magic that Tamajin surely must possess to have come so far. For days that may have become weeks, the solemn ceremonies and wild revelry went hand in hand, all to the never-ceasing beat of the high drums of the shamans during the day, the music of the horse-head fiddles and throat singings around the dusk campfires deep into the nights, and punctuated by countless wrestling, racing, archery, and bone-dice competitions and tournaments. At the end of the event, when the promises had been made and made

anew, when Tangri had given its blessing, and when the Khan was lifted up three times upon a black felt carpet and then carried overhead of the crowd to be placed atop his throne, the Tatars, or the Taichud, but would now one and all be full members of the Yeke Mongol Ulus, the Great Mongol Nation. For himself, though Temujin would proudly don the title of Great Khan, Khayan, he would reject the older regnal names that had long been associated with the Divided Step. He would not be, as Jamaka once had been, Gerkan, the Universal Khan. Nor would he accept Tayang, the Khan of the Light Tower, as had been the Naimon chief. Instead, he chose for himself a new title, Tingiskayan. It has been debated ever since precisely what the title Tengiz precisely means,

as it does not readily correspond to any Mongolian or Chinese word. It has long been held that the title might have derived from the Turkic word Tengiz, meaning oceanic, thus implying that he was the lord of the four seas of the world, a.k.a. the world entire. This, however, is dismissed by many modern scholars, because there's no clear reason or way for the Mongols to have managed to mispronounce Tengis into Chengis. Another possibility is suggested in modern Mongolian, which is the word Cheng, meaning strength. This seems dismissible as achronological, however, as it seems far likelier that modern Mongolian came to associate the word with the concept of strength after the fact.

A third possibility is that it was derived from the Chinese word zheng, meaning right, just, or true. This fits in terms of both pronunciation and timing, as the Mongols and their clansmen had had extensive dealings with and at least limited linguistic interaction with the Chinese. Weatherford posits that there might have been some relation to the Mongol word for wolf, qinl, which the Borjigians had long associated with themselves and traced their own origin back to.

In the end, however, it remains an open question. Genghis Khan is simply Genghis Khan. One thing, however, was most certainly not in question by the end of the ceremony in 1206. That out of many, one had arisen. Out of discord and anarchy, order and unity. For centuries, the people of the steppe had been divided, set against one another, and weakened by both their own tribalistic and fractious nature, as well as by outside interference from those powers to the south that well understood what a united steppe could mean for their own fortunes. But for all their machinations, or setting the barbarians against one another, now at age 39, the Iron Man, the Blacksmith, the Great Khan,

has forged his people together into an indivisible whole and will in due course remind the soft, settled people of the rivers and farmlands south of the Yellow River and far beyond exactly why they had feared a strong steppe empire all this time and why they had spent countless wealth, scrolls, and soldiers' lives trying, in vain it proved, to ensure such a day never came again. Brace yourselves. Genghis is coming.

Thanks for listening. History isn't black and white, yet too often it's presented as such. Grey History, The French Revolution is a long-form history podcast dedicated to exploring the ambiguities and nuances of the past. From a revolution of hope and liberty to the infamous Reign of Terror, you can't understand the modern world without understanding the French Revolution. So search for The French Revolution today.