Mesunaji
Chapter 3
The Disintegration of an Empire
1362 - 1390
For six years, Christian and Muslim fought and died in countless battles stretching across the Levant, spilling unfathomable amounts of blood in an attempt to either liberate or preserve the Holy City of Jerusalem. The Seventh Crusade turned the already blood-ridden lands of
Bilad al-Sham into nothing short of a mass grave, with tens of thousands of zealot faithful falling in the increasingly bitter war.
Eventually, however, the newly-crowned Shah Ferux Ankooshi defeated the combined Crusader forces of Holy Roman Emperor Charles and the Roman Basileus Nikolai in the decisive
Battle of Acre, chasing the remains of their army back into the Mediterranean over the following weeks.
Shia faithful across the Muslim world rejoiced in celebration, but in the gilded halls and extravagant chambers of
Namuthij Al Rua'a, the news was met with worried glances and distressed whispers. It is into this atmosphere that the young and inexperienced Ismail was crowned as the seventeenth
Shah of All Kurds, though at this point, the title was little more than the ruin of a bygone era.
By the 1360s, what was once the grand and powerful Kurdish Shahdom had been reduced to a shadow of its former self, with the empire's borders in a constant state of recession and its coffers more often empty than not. It's difficult to pinpoint when exactly this decline began, historians often point to Shah Erdehan the Unable, who had lived in excess whilst his people were starving; some go further back, convinced that it was the Mongols who had dealt the fatal blow whilst the Empire was at its apex; others like to blame the 'witch' Princess Sadiye for the hold she had on Shah Khamed II, convincing him to name her bastard as his successor and thus dooming the empire. Other yet go back an age, throwing all the blame onto the eponymous founder of the Khamîrasgirên, Khamed I, for usurping the throne of the Mad Shah and toppling the Old Ankooshi.
Needless to say, all of these and more played some part in what would become an era of steep decline, one in which it seemed doubtful that the Shahdom would ever be able to escape. All that mattered at this point in the story is that any prospects of returning the Kurdish Shahdom to its former glory were bleak, very bleak indeed, and Shah Mesûd's breakdown only contributed to this.
Shah Mesûd had closeted himself away from all politics and religion for much of his later life, so utterly crushed by his defeat that he would never able to recover. The void he left was quickly filled by the Kurdish Council, who strengthened their grip on the Shahdom in Mesûd's absence, and the two biggest characters on the Kurdish Council were, predictably, Ismail's two most powerful vassals: Emir Hafiz Fatimid and Satrap Halil Kermanshah.
The two vassals took advantage of their Shah's absence to strip away power from the monarch, placing it squarely with the Council instead, and thus themselves. By the 1360s, this continuous process resulted in a system whereby the Shah had very little flexibility, forced to turn to the Kurdish Council to seek approval for every action, from declarations of war to the imprisonment of criminals.
And, unfortunately for the young shah, it was under this system that Ismail was raised. He was taken away from his father whilst still a babe and fostered at the palace of Halil Kermanshah, but the satrap gave very little attention to the future king's education, essentially letting him run free and do as he pleased. As unrestricted children are wont to do, the young Ismail quickly became something of a nuisance, playing cruel tricks on friends and servants alike, foiling his tutors' lessons and plans, even eavesdropping on the Satrap's private audiences and meetings.
Thus, by the time Ismail was actually coronated, he didn't exactly have the bearing fit for a Shah. He was notorious for hating anything that involved physical exercise, he would later famously state that 'horses and swords make me sweat, I'll leave the fighting to slaves', and this in an era of crisis for the Kurdish Shahdom. Nevertheless, he was the only heir to Kurdistan, so he was carted off to Baghdad upon his father's death to be anointed and sworn in as the next Shah of Kurdistan.
The Kurdish Council, however, certainly wouldn't be giving such a miscreant any power whatsoever. The soldiery and the treasury remained firmly under the Council's control, allowing Emir Hafiz and Satrap Halil to rule as they saw fit, they quickly became kings in all but name. In such an environment, however, it was only natural for a rivalry to develop between Hafiz and Halil, with the two men growing more estranged by the day.
They weren't tyrants, however, and modern historians usually concede that they had the Shahdom's best interests at heart. Funds continued to be allocated to the defenses of the Shahdom, with the walls of Baghdad being reinforced and, where necessary, completely reconstructed. The scars of its sacking could still be seen in the collapsed houses, in the blackened hovels, in the rubble that remained of the mosques and in the sudden influx of orphans, all of which the Council was determined to undo.
New walls and extra towers wouldn't be enough to permanently halt an invasion, however, wars were won on the battlefield. So the two powerful lords of Kurdistan began orchestrating the foundation for an alliance network stretching across the Near East, from Persia to the fringes of Europe.
The first to join this alliance was Shah Hasan Tahirid, who still claimed to be the king of Persia, despite ever-threatening presence of the Unakhanate on their borders. Emir Evangelos of Nikaea soon followed, a very capable successor to his father and namesake, he was eager to form a coalition to oppose the unrestricted expansion of the Shahdom of Rûm. These alliances were quickly sealed with marriage contracts between Shah Ismail and their daughters, strengthening the bonds between the different kingdoms, though Ismail obviously had no say in the matter.
Emir Hafiz then sent emissaries to the powerful Sultan of Egypt, but before the Council could hear back, envoys arrived at Baghdad from the new Shah of Rûm, Godarz. And, unfortunately for them, it was not an invitation to his coronation.
Rather, Shah Godarz decided to go where his father had hesitated to tread, and 'reconquer' his claims on the Kurdish Shahdom. Godarz's envoys informed the Council that he, as the only legitimate
Khamiras monarch, was the true Shah of Kurdistan, and he intended to seize his inheritance by force. The shah went on to remark that Ismail was nothing more than 'the bastard son of bastards', just one in a glittering array of well-placed insults.
In fairness to him, Godarz certainly had a legitimate claim to the Shahdom, and he had enough support to back the claim. His armies outnumbered those of Shah Ismail by at least ten thousand men, a considerable amount, one which would prove its worth when it came for the matter to be settled on the field of battle.
Shah Ismail, of course, didn't much care for war and the sweat that came with it. He opted to remain in Baghdad for the duration of the conflict, and it was probably for the best, he would have been a nuisance otherwise. Emir Hafiz and Satrap Halil, meanwhile, knew that Godarz couldn't be allowed to take Baghdad under any circumstances. A Sunni could not be allowed to rule in Iraq, and that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. So the banners were summoned, the levies were raised, and the Kurdish Army set out from Baghdad to defend its new frontiers.
Since Shah Ismail decided to stay at Baghdad, where his pillows and harem-women were, Satrap Halil Kermanshah took supreme command of the Kurdish Army. He was an able and proven commander, and he would soon showcase his martial abilities to the entire world, embarking on a forced march north by northwest in a surprising offensive directly into Rûmi territory.
Halil's grand strategy, it seems, was to take Shah Godarz by surprise. The Rûmi certainly didn't expect the Kurds to take the initiative, not when they had smaller numbers and had dedicated so much money to the Shahdom's fortifications, it made much more sense for them to operate on the defensive. It was precisely this certainty, however, that encouraged Satrap Halil to turn the table on the Rûmi, charging out of the darkness and stunning his foes.
And this is exactly what he did, in the very first engagement of what would be a bloody conflict. About ten thousand Rûmi Kurds were marching towards Karin, where they would presumably join up with the rest of Godarz's army. Halil's spies and scouts brought him word of their advance as they began their march eastward, and when as they steadily approached and neared his own position, the Satrap pushed into Rûm proper and rushed to force the 10,000-strong army into battle.
More than six thousand Rûmi were slaughtered in the three-hour contest that followed, with the opposing generals unable to react decisively to the sudden emergence of 20,000 Kurdish warriors, all bloodthirsty and eager for battle.
Satrap Halil himself lost about three thousand men, and though he managed to decisively defeat the opposing force, these losses would undoubtedly sting. Thus, rather than capitalise on his victory and chase the broken army deeper into Rûmi territory, Halil decided to fall back into neutral country to reorganise his forces and prepare for another offensive.
Unbeknownst to the Kurdish lord, however, Shah Godarz himself was leading another army to try and reinforce the battle and overwhelm his enemy. He wasn't quick enough, of course, but he was able to pursue the retreating Kurdish Army and prevent Halil from falling back into Kurdistan, pinning down the entirety of the army even as it was in full retreat.
This, obviously, was not good news. Satrap Halil had expected his own smaller force to easily outpace the larger Rûmi Army, but he had underestimated both Shah Godarz's resolve and his capability, and allowed himself to lapse into a false sense of security. This, as one might expect, was not exactly favourable, with the Kurds forced into fighting a battle they had not expected, against a numerically superior force, and in terrain not of their choosing.
Needless to say, the odds were weighed heavily against the Kurds, this may well be the blow that would finally incapacitate what was left of the Kurdish Shahdom.
A romantic depiction of Shah Godarz, who fashioned himself a commander, in pursuit of the Kurdish Army.
And it certainly would have been, had it not been for Satrap Halil's swift and decisive retaliation, one which contemporary accounts paint as being nothing short of messianic.
It was understandably a shock that the Rûmi had somehow managed to outflank the renowned Kurdish Army, encircling and surrounding it, essentially pinning down the entirety of Kurdistan's forces. Shah Godarz could have simply let them starve then, wiping out an entire army without losing a single man himself, it was certainly possible. And it would've gotten the job done, no doubt, but Godarz needed to send a message. If he was to rule all of Kurdistan, then the Army of the its last Shah needed to be wiped out, that was the only way for his claim to be legitimised. And so, just as panic began breaking out amongst Kurdish ranks, he gave the command to initiate combat. A few hours of battle, and he would have all of Anatolia and Mesopotamia under his authority, of that much he was certain.
Unfortunately for Shah Godarz, however, that wasn't what Halil Kermanshah had in mind.
The first few hours were very bloody, of course, with the unruly and chaotic Kurdish masses dying by the thousand. The attack had been unanticipated, Halil had expected Godarz to take the smarter option and simply let his enemies starve to death, so he wasn't prepared for a pitched battle. It would have been much cleaner, but the delusional aspirations of a single man born into power can often outweigh a thousand rational arguments, as evidenced by what happened next.
Despite losing upward of 5000 men in the first three hours of fighting, Satrap Halil managed to salvage
something by assembling a line of veteran soldiers to hold back the Rûmi for a short while, allowing the rest of the Kurdish Army to fall back and reorganise. Firsthand accounts of the battle document Satrap Halil as being a unifying figure, encouraging the vast majority of his forces into organised divisions by the sheer strength of his will, though there was no small amount of shouting and cursing.
But he managed to get it done, and when the Rûmi finally broke the stalwart line of veterans, they found a prepared and organised army awaiting them. A tired and starving army, no doubt, but an army nonetheless. What followed was some of the thickest fighting and bloodiest hours in the past century of Kurdish history, at the very least, with tens of thousands of men succumbing to steel on the drenched battlefield of Bara.
And, somehow, Satrap Halil emerged the victor. Shah Godarz failed to react or retaliate when the tempo of the battle turned against him, and as half his army were slaughtered before his very eyes, he was forced to shed what was left of his pride and order an outright retreat, a retreat which he himself led...
Satrap Halil didn't stop there, however. His elaborate arcing maneuvers and bonebreaking blitz attack had managed to win him the day, and it left him with a weakened army, but he was adamant that the Rûmi had to be pursued and broken before they could regain their strength. He warned his fellow commanders that, unless they managed to force Shah Godarz into another battle within the next few weeks, he would eventually be able to field another army and stretch out the war for a decade.
So Halil forced his exhausted army onto a march with scarcely more than a day's rest, whilst concurrently recruiting more soldiers from the local militias. Shah Godarz was trying to get back into friendly territory as quickly as possible, but this was Kurdish sand and stone, and Satrap Halil was able to quickly gain on the Shah and force his army to a standstill before he could escape, setting the scene for what would brutally crush any prospects of a resurgence.
Giving his men some much needed rest, Halil waited a week before pouncing on what was left of the Rûmi Army, engaging the 11,000-strong force under Shah Godarz's command with a slight numerical advantage. Obviously, there was no hope of the crushed and embittered Rûmi somehow pulling what Halil himself managed to do, and they were decisively defeated in a short battle.
Once the sun had set and the dead were counted, Godarz was presented to Satrap Halil in chains, the once all-powerful Shah at the mercy of a mere emir. He was eventually released, of course, but only after signing a damaging peace treaty. In it, the Shah swore to restrict his influence to his own borders, agreed to recognise the independence of the Emirate of Tripoli, and promised annual tribute amounting to a thousand
dinars over a period of five years.
Certainly humiliating, but Godarz managed to escape with his life and his crown, far more than he would have bargained for. Satrap Halil, meanwhile, returned to Baghdad as nothing short of a celebrity, his name on the lips of every commoner and nobleman alike. Of course, he mentioned the 'ingenious' advice given to him by Shah Ismail, and attributed all of his victories to his liege, but every man and woman with half a brain cell knew that these claims were nothing more than protocol, and that it was Halil who had saved the Kurdish Shahdom.
And Shah Ismail, despite knowing full well how lucky he was to still have a kingdom, resented Satrap Halil for it.
Ismail had spent the duration of the war as he would spend any other day: indulging in his pleasures. That, at least, is what contemporary accounts would have us believe. The truth, as always, is a far cry from what was though at the time, and recent views paint the Shah in a much more positive and sympathetic light. As has been said, Ismail was famous for despising conflict and war of any nature, and though many painted him as a sloth and a craven for this, more modern historians suggest that he may have simply been a pacifist. It's not too difficult, after all, to despise the senseless loss of life that is an essential part of any war.
So, rather than lead tens of thousands of Kurds to their death, Shah Ismail seemed to strive to lead a life of peace and beauty. He invested the vast majority of his allowance into works of art, devoting huge sums into monumental sculptures and vivid paintings, into exquisite illuminated manuscripts and ornate calligraphic poetry, into thick Persian carpets and breathtaking Indian jewellery, into massive ablution fountains and arching domes, just to name a select few.
In fact, by far the most lasting of Shah Ismail's legacies are his contributions to
Namuthij Al Rua'a, the political and artistic epicentre of the Kurdish Shahdom. The vast palaces had first been constructed during the reign of Shah Aurang the Magnificent, and though its foundations had initially been built upon by his successors, the period of steep decline and chronic infighting had resulted in the
Jewel of Islam falling into disrepair. Ismail had been the first Shah in almost a century to add to
Namuthij Al Rua'a, ordering the construction of countless architectural marvels, from vast artificial lakes to now-lost underground cellars.
Shah Ismail also contributed to the reconstruction of the House of Knowledge, whose very existence in Baghdad was brought into question after the Ankooshi sacking the city. Not only did Ismail pledge considerable sums of money to the institution, but he also bestowed land grants on its masters, thus guaranteeing its survival and earning him a special place in the heart of every scholar and academic.
The Shah was also interested in a few certain avenues of study himself, and though he would've been the first to admit he had been nothing short of a disastrous student, he would later come to regret abandoning his education. Later in life, sometime during the 1370s, Ismail resumed his education once more, with several prominent scholars from the House of Knowledge repaying their debts by personally tutoring him.
Ismail would prove himself a quick learner, taking a particular interest in the political landscape of the day, but he had a genuine love for history. Later in his reign, the Shah would commission the very first complete history of the Kurdish Shahdom, documenting everything known from the near-mythical Shah Hashim I to his own reign, a vast and monumental work. Shah Ismail personally advocated for its publication once it was completed, aptly named '
A History of the Most Noble and Glorious Royal Houses of Kurdistan', and it would go on to serve as a primary period source for historians.
Unfortunately for him, however, Ismail couldn't live his entire life simply reading books and commissioning painting. Satrap Halil, ever since returning from the war with Rûm, was gradually solidifying his personal hold on the Kurdish Shahdom. He had earned untold amounts of prestige and influence for his campaigns against Shah Godarz, and he had used that to marginalise Emir Hafiz and seize power for himself.
The Emir of Damascus could do little but watch his own influence within Baghdad slowly decline, and as Satrap Halil consolidated his own position, Hafiz decided to leave the capital for his own domains in Syria. Just a few days after the Fatimid emir left, Halil presented Shah Ismail with a list of demands, the most prominent of which was to surrender what remained of his authority and power over to the Council, and thus the Satrap himself.
No doubt he simply expected the Shah to roll over.
Within a week, this was quickly followed with an envoy from Damascus, sent by Emir Hafiz himself, who'd recently left Baghdad. His envoy spoke of the reeking corruption that had become synonymous with the Royal Court. The Emir claimed that Satrap Halil had overstepped his boundaries, essentially turning himself into a king, denouncing the satrap as a tyrannical usurper. All this, despite Hafiz himself having ruled alongside Halil for the past two decades.
Nonetheless, the Fatimid Emir had decided that enough was enough, and ended his message with a declaration of independence.
Shah Ismail, who had strived to avoid war and conflict throughout his entire life, suddenly found himself facing rebellion on all sides. Even worse, it was his two most powerful vassals and most capable generals who were the revolters, leaving the Shah himself with little more than Baghdad and its immediate environ.
To many in Baghdad, it must've seemed as though the apocalypse was nigh, with thousands of Kurds who'd previously stood in solidarity now preparing to march on one another.
Little did they know that it would be the vast plains of Central Asia that'd bear the true apocalypse.