The Turks in the Early Islamic World

C. Edmund Bosworth

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781351880879
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Middle Eastern History
• Index: History

This volume brings together a set of key articles, along with a new introduction to contextualize them, on the role of Turkish peoples in the Western Asiatic world up to the 11th century. Such topics as the geographical and environmental original milieux of these peoples in the forest zone and steppelands of Inner Asia, the formation and breakup of tribal confederations within the steppes, and the evolution of tribal structures, are examined as the background for the appearance of Turks within the Islamic caliphate from the 9th century onwards. These came first as military slaves, then as movements of peoples, such as the tribal migrations of the Oghuz, leading to the establishment of the Seljuq sultanate, whilst from within Islamic society, individual Turkish commanders were able at the same time to build up their own military empires such as that of the Ghaznavids. In this way was put in place a Turkish dominance of the northern tier of the Middle East, with attendant changes in demography and land utilisation, which was to last for centuries.

1
The Steppe Region in World History

Κaare Grønbech

The interest concerning the Central Asian steppes and their relation to world history, is not only based on the great interest taken in the peoples and languages of Central Asia and their history, but also because Central Asia is at present in the spotlight of modern high politics, and here as elsewhere it holds true that the present is best understood when viewed against the background of history.

Now it would be quite impossible to give in three brief articles a complete survey of all the migrations and conquests of the steppe peoples through history. Such a survey is best given in the shape of a book, and a big one at that. The main traits, such as the wanderings of the Indo-European tribes, the irruption of the Huns on the threshold of the Middle Ages, the expansion of the Turkish peoples about a thousand years A. D., and the conquests of the Mongols in the thirteenth century, all that is common knowledge. What in these articles I propose to do is to expose the moving forces that work behind the more or less known historical events that interfered with the world outside the steppe itself, and so became part of world history.

But let us turn first to the purely geographical aspect of the country which forms the subject of these articles.

Geographical survey.

The classical English subdivision of Asia is the tripartition into the Near East, the Middle East, and the Far East. This nomenclature reflects conditions of a century or more ago, but popular usage still adheres to this terminology for the very good reason that it still gives a clear subdivision of those parts of Asia.

The Near East, it is true, has fallen out of the picture, for with the dismemberment of the old Ottoman empire the Balkans have ceased to be a part of Asia, and now decidedly gravitate towards Europe. But for all that the Middle East is a very handy designation for Asia Minor, Syria, Mesopotamia, Arabia, Persia and a never very clearly defined part of the North African coast, in other words the old Islamic countries, or, from a political point of view, the Ottoman empire outside Europe plus Persia.

The Far East in the largest sense comprises China, Japan. Further India, and sometimes even the Dutch Indies; and in between the Middle and the Far East we have India proper as a separate entity. This line: Near, Middle East, India, Far East was and is the high-road of European eastern expansion, political and commercial.

This southern and eastern fringe of Asia comprises all the major cultural centres of gravity of that part of the globe, consisting as it does of a series of well-defined, though of course often mutually interlacing cultural areas, many of them ensconced behind their own strong natural frontiers, but all connected with each other by their easy access to the sea, from which only Afghanistan is excluded.

But there is another, though more precarious line of communication between several of these peoples of high culture among themselves and between them and Europe. Behind the dazzling array of breeding-nests of high-culture lies the enormous hinterland of barren mountains and boundless steppes, the amorphous expanses of Central Asia where cultural boundaries are non-existing and political frontiers can shift over night.

There was nothing on the surface of that country to attract European commercial enterprise, and it required the highly developed technical equipment of the last few decades to discover and exploit the natural resources found underground. Neither did it appeal very much to the historian of the older school, for it has never fostered any form of world civilization. It was the archeologists that in our own time definitely directed the attention of European scholarship to that land of wastes and deserts.

But those are recent developments. The modern study of the Asiatic hinterland has not as yet resulted in the evolution of a standard set of geographical terms comparable to those that apply to the southern and eastern fringes of that continent.

The parts of Asia with which these articles are primarily concerned are those where human existence was never, till the onset of European expansion altered the ways of man, based upon agriculture, though here and there agriculture did occur as a local, but more often shortlived phenomenon.

The whole northern fringe of Asia is taken up with the tundras of the extreme North, which gradually merge into a belt of primeval forest, extending as far south as the southern slopes of the heavy mountain chains about the 50 degree of latitude. The whole of this enormous country of frozen fields, marshes and forests, the homeland of hunters, may be briefly and conveniently called by the name of Siberia. South of that begins the steppe. In spite of mountains like the Altai, the Tannu Ula etc., however, there is nowhere a sharp line of demarkation between the two, the hill forests (yïsli, khanggai, taiga) of South Siberia merging by interceptible stages into the open plains of Mongolia and the Kirghiz steppe.

Between the forestclad mountains in the north and the heavy mountain chains in the South, the highest in the world, which protect the rich tropic provinces of South Asia from their hinterland, stretch the vast expanses of the Steppe, staring in the East, somewhere east of the Khingan Mountains of Western Manchuria and from there continuing westwards right across the whole breadth of Asia and Southern Russia until we reach the Carpathians in Eastern Europe. A roaming nomad or a raiding warrior will meet no effectual geographical barrier on his way from Harbin in the east and Bucarest in the west. There are a number of streams to be forded, and in Russia a few rivers to be crossed on rafts or on the winter ice, but hills are few and far between and mountains he will encounter none of on his Way.

Still it would be erroneous to suppose that this enormous expanse presents an entirely uniform aspect. Till late in history most of this area did indeed offer comparatively uniform conditions of living to the cattle breeding nomads, so uniform as to make transition from one part of it to the other easy or even imperceptible. But latent geographical conditions are such as to favour divergent development in different areas under the influence of external events. In the light of later history it will be natural to sub-divide the Steppe region into three different spheres:

First there is the low lying fertile South Russian plain to the West, which may be said to terminate at the bottle-neck between the Ural Mountains and the Caspian Sea (which isn't much of a bottle neck after all). Then comes the westernmost parts of Asia, comprising the Southern portion of West Siberia, the Kirgiz Steppe and part of Russian Turkistan, till in the oases of Trans-oxania the Steppe gives way to the Iranian world of agriculture and commerce i. e. the outposts of the Islamic sphere of the Middle East.

This Steppe is not by any account so fertile as South Russia, but the northern part of it invites cultivation when there are any land-seeking cultivators at hand. As it will be convenient to have a collective term of designation for this West Asiatic Steppe, I shall propose to call it Middle Asia. East of Middle Asia the ground rises to the table land of Central Asia proper, comprising Djungaria (the northern part of the Chinese province of Hsin-kiang) and Mongolia and so reaching in some places almost, but nowhere quite, to the shores of the Pacific. The mean altitude of this portion of the Steppe is roughly between 3,000 and 5,000 feet.

Wedged in between the Steppe and those parts of Southern Asia that open upon the Sea is the enclave of Chinese Turkistan. This basin is protected on three sides by heavy mountains and consists mainly of barren sand deserts, which are absolutely uninhabitable to either nomad or peasant. Only a very limited number of oases along the course of the Tarim and a few seasonal rivers, which quickly lose themselves in the desert, can support a sedentary population who masters the technique of artificial irrigation. The country therefore never formed part of the nomad region, though its eastern half was ever exposed to attacks from roving hordes.

Almost entirely unconnected with the Steppe zone is Tibet, whose principal lines of communication with the outer world lead through India and China. It will have to be remembered that the population is mainly concentrated in the Southern and South-Eastern part of the country, while the meagre North Tibetan pastures are inhabited only by a very scanty sprinkling of primitive cattle keepers. The only exception is the Kuku-nur district in the extreme north east.

Suppose an expansion was taking place somewhere in the Steppe zone, where could it now find an outlet?

For reasons to which I shall soon revert a nomad tribe seeking larger breathing space will hardly ever turn to the forests of Siberia; neither will it penetrate far beyond the Khingan Mountains of Manchuria, since then it would again encounter forests. So the inhabitants of the Steppe would have to go south or west. In other words the first and nearest country that would be likely to attract them is China with its partially open frontier. Chinese Turkistan on the other hand with its vast sand deserts and sparse oases can only absorb a very limited number of nomad invaders. And South of Chinese Turkistan is barren Tibet. Seeking an outlet here would therefore be the same as trying to get out into the open by the wardrobe door. Only the Kuku-nur district offers some possibilities for nomads, and has in fact at various periods absorbed nomadic tribes coming from the North.

The real chance for a nomad on the move therefore lies west of the Pamir, the rich districts of Transoxania and the almost unlimited space of Middle Asia and South Russia, with Europe as a tempting goal at its further end. Therefore China, Persia (or rather Transoxania) and Eastern Europe will almost inevitably be the places where a pressure from the Steppe will seek an outlet. Which of these three points will be preferred, depends on where the least resistance is encountered.

Physical aspects of Mongolia.

This then is the stage for that great drama of world history, the drama of the Steppe.

Now the heart of the Steppe region was always the Eastern part of it, Central Asia. Most, if not all, of the raids and campaigns launched from the Steppe region upon the Western world can be traced back to ethnic shiftings and political upheavals in the heart of Asia or along the Chinese or Siberian frontier.

It is important therefore to realize the physical conditions of that country. Mongolia is usually divided into Outer and Inner Mongolia, as viewed from China. Those two halves of Mongolia are separated by the Gobi desert, stretching from the North East to the South West, where it merges with the sand deserts of Chinese Turkistan. Now it would be entirely misleading to visualize all that is labelled desert in maps as arid zones of sand and waste land with torrid climate, scorching sun and bitter biting wind. Both Outer and Inner Mongolia are an undulating Steppe country sometimes rising into low, grass covered mountains. The vegetation, which consists almost exclusively of grass, is nourished chiefly by the melted snow from the heavy snow storms in early spring. In addition to that South Mongolia also receives some rain in July. North Mongolia is watered by a number of rivers, several of them pretty large, while south of the desert there is only the one river of the Edsen Gol; all other rivers of the map are seasonal streams and rivulets which only for a short time in summer can lay any claim to the blue colour of the maps and for the rest of the year appear as dry and stony river beds leading down to a salt lake. In South Mongolia all water is taken from artificial wells.

On the whole Outer Mongolia is the more fertile of the two. Especially in the northernmost parts experimental farming has shown good results. In Inner Mongolia conditions are much less favourable. The layer of mould is very thin, but still for the last century or so the southern fringe of the steppe has been steadily encroached upon by the advance of Chinese colonisation. Those hardy peasants are tenaciously wresting from the meagre soil all that it has to give, but the layer of mould is extremely thin, often no more than one foot. It diminishes steadily as they move north, and at many points the limit has already been reached where one ploughing exhausts the soil. Next year the sand breaks through, and in an incredibly short time the wind eats down, rolls up the turf, and soon only a long stretch of flying sand marks the place of an abandoned Chinese farm. In between the large expanses of good grazing we come upon stretches of sand and isolated grass tufts, or clayey soil with no other vegetation than low heather. Sand dunes and bare sand fields increase in number the more we approach the Gobi, till at last we are among the uninhabited wastes of that dreaded desert of sand, stones, clay, couch-grass and heather.

Mongolia is a highland and North China, its southern neighbour, is essentially a lowland.

In many places the transition is an abrupt one, the country rising suddenly or in successive terraces into rugged mountain chains, behind which commence the plains of Mongolia, such as for instance Kalgan or, farther west, north of Kuei-hua-ch'eng. Here is a natural boundary line between nomad and peasant, but for long stretches the transition between Steppe and arable land is a very gradual one, so that between the two there is a large area of fertile steppe which may easily be turned into tolerably good farming ground. The Great Wall of the Emperor Ch'in Shih (221—210 B. C.) with its later extensions is an attempt to create a hard and fast boundary line between the Chinese arable land and the steppe.

The climate is severe. In winter the night temperature often sinks as low as 40 degrees below zero and on hot summer days rises to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. That is a difference between the two extremes of 140 degrees, which is about twice as great as in England.

This summary description of the country may not make it appear in a very attractive light. Still it is one of the most beautiful countries you can live and travel in. Its broad expanses of green or yellow steppe, or low swelling ridges that lose themselves in the far distance, the sunrises and sunsets with their glorious display of pure deep colours from lucid green to scintillating violet with the black shadow of the earth from the east encroaching ominously on the last colours of daylight; the clean dry and light mountain air which brings out all colours to their greatest advantage, makes distances appear as nothing to the eye, and bouys you up through the fatigues of travelling: in such a country where you can ride a thousand miles in any direction and know that you will never on your way encounter a single man-made obstacle, the European traveller, who is accustomed to being hemmed in on all sides by walls, fences, notices and boundary posts, enjoys an unspeakable feeling of liberty and adventure.

And then think that what the European traveller takes as a special boon is only what the steppe born nomad regards as his legitimate birthright if he ever thinks about it.

I have now described the Central Asian Steppe as seen with the eyes of a geographer and with the eyes of the aesthetic traveller. But the relevant point of view is that of the nomad himself, and his point of view is in many respects startlingly different from ours. What to us appears as a meagre tract of poor yellow grassland is in his eyes a fertile steppe country with grazing for hundreds of horses, cattle and sheep, and so most probably the homestead of a wealthy family. Where we see a patch of sand desert at the foot of a hill with only a few tufts of couch-grass crowning the low sand dunes, the nomad immediately perceives an ideal camping ground with splendid grazing for his camels and a reasonable chance of finding a well; so there he pitches his travelling tent. And even districts such as the much dreaded Gobi desert, which to the inexperienced European traveller appear as absolutely uninhabitable and seem to him to constitute an insurmountable barrier to human intercourse, even such districts appear to the born nomad rather in the light of a convenient travelling country. Where we see first and foremost stone clay and dry shrub, the trained eye of the nomad immediately picks out a patch of dry winter grass and a well. The water in that well may be brackish, and next day both men and horses may feel the consequences in their stomachs, but those are details, and a crossing of the Gobi, which figures in the diary of the European traveller as a perilous and exhausting exploit, is to the nomads just so many days of humdrum every day life. This is a country where the nomad is at home.

Conditions of living.

The natural products of the soil of that country are really only two, namely grass and salt. The latter article can be had along the shores of the numerous stagnant lakes that usually form at the end of the summer rivers. All indigenous steppe cultures must be built on those two elements. The medium through which the abundant grass of Central Asia is turned to account is of course the cattle, the sheep and the goats; the milk of the cows and goats in numerous different shapes is the staple food, and the sheep yield wool for floor mats and for the felt covering of the tent, and skin for clothes. The need for transport other than the slow going ox-carts have led to the domestication since times immemorial of horse and camel. The need of finding grazing enough for the considerable number of animals required to keep a family fed, clothed and housed necessitates a constant change of site and therefore the inhabitants of Central Asia were always wandering nomads with no fixed abode, living in moveable felt-covered tents.

It is a significant fact and one which had important consequences for world history that practically all domestic work in these nomad camps is women's work, cooking, sewing, collecting dry dung for fuel, milking and looking after the cattle generally, while the men have only the hunting, the horses and the occasional slaughtering of the cattle for food to look after.

Hunting was never a major means of livelihood in the steppe, but it must be mentioned as an important occupation of the men. It served the double purpose of adding meat to the diet, for oxen and sheep could only be killed for festive occasions, and that of keeping down the wolves. And at the same time it constituted an important training for war.

It has been said that the country produced only grass and salt and that all other necessities had to be derived directly or indirectly from those two basic elements. Still the country contains one other very necessary article, namely wood. There are no trees growing any more in Central and Southern Mongolia, for Central Asia is in a process of slow dessication, as can be seen from the considerable number of now dried-up lakes, along the former shores of which we often come upon neolithic sites. Other relics from those more fertile ages are several dead forests found among sand dunes in out of the way parts of the country. From here the nomads fetched, and still fetch, wood for the framework of their felt tents as well as for various utensils and other things.

And this brings us to the end of the catalogue of raw materials at the disposal of the inhabitants of the steppe. The very special geographical, climatic and physical conditions force upon the wouldbe inhabitant of it a very characteristic form of material culture, based on very few...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• General Editor's Preface
• Introduction
• 1. The Steppe Region in World History
• 2. A Geographical Introduction to the History of Central Asia
• 3. Tribal Names and Titles amongst the Altaic Peoples
• 4. The Oldest Mentions of the Turks in Arabic Literature
• 5. The Turks in the Shāh-Nāma
• 6. Khazar Turkic Ghulâms in Caliphal Service
• 7. Al-Xwārāzmī on the Peoples of Central Asia
• 8. Turks in the Middle East before the Saljuqs
• 9. The Turks in the Islamic Lands up to the Mid-11th Century
• 10. Barbarian Incursions: The Coming of the Turks into the Islamic World
• 11. Notes on the Risala of Ibn-Fadlan
• 12. Mu'taṣim and the Turks
• 13. Aspects of the Early History of the Central Asian Guard Corps in Islam
• 14. The Founding of a New Capital: Sāmarrā'
• 15. The Malik-Nāma and the History of Seljuqid Origins
• 16. The Turkish Tribes of Western Asia during the Seljuqid Period
• Index