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Temüjin was still a boy when his father was killed in the second half of the 12th century AD. The consequences for his family were devastating. Although Tem¸jin’s name meant ‘blacksmith’, he was not the latest in a long line of sedentary metalworkers. Instead, it reflected the importance of iron – and an ability to make it – among the clans of steppe nomads that collectively made up the Mongols. Temüjin’s father had been a leading figure among one of these groups, but his death brought a dramatic reversal of fortune. Tem¸jin was too young to assume his father’s position; instead, his family was ostracised by their clan and reduced to poverty. It was a brutal fate in the unforgiving world of the steppe, and brought real suffering. But Temüjin was a clever boy with an adventurous streak: a combination of his wits, a favourable marriage – agreed before his father’s death, but still honoured after it – and a knack for knowing when to make or break alliances saw him rise far higher than his father ever had. In 1206, Temüjin was recognised as the emperor of all Mongols, and received the title by which he is known to history: Genghis Khan (now commonly spelled ‘Chinggis Khan’).
By then, Genghis Khan was already in his 40s, which was a venerable age for a steppe nomad of that era. Becoming emperor did not mark the culmination of his career, though. Instead, Genghis Khan set about increasing his territory with a stunning series of conquests in northern China and central Asia. The empire that he forged continued to grow after his death in 1227. At its greatest extent, in 1279, the Mongol Empire stretched from the Sea of Japan to eastern Europe, covering about 22% of the landmass of the Earth. Among the many profound consequences of this was that East and West became more closely connected than ever before. While European travellers and merchants – most famously Marco Polo – were drawn to the empire, so too its influence was felt far beyond its bounds. Italian paintings, for example, began to include Asian faces. Therecan be no doubt that the little boy who suffered so much left a legacy that changed the world.
Traditionally, suffering is also something that has been closely associated with the rise of the Mongol Empire. Today, Genghis Khan is often viewed as a bloodthirsty warlord whose forces were responsible for massacres and cruelty beyond measure. He is infamous for reputedly issuing a simple ultimatum to cities in his path: surrender or die. That the Mongol Empire did not just deal in violence, though, is illustrated by an array of remarkable artefacts presented in a fascinating new exhibition at the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds. Genghis Khan: how the Mongols changed the world (see ‘Further information’ box below) broadens perspectives of what the Mongols accomplished by examining a wealth of subjects, including nomadic life, administration of the empire, women’s roles, religious policy, craft and technology, and – of course – warfare. The result shows how the Mongol reputation for cruelty has obscured another side to their empire, which was also a place of religious tolerance, technological and artistic innovation, cultural exchange, and promotion based on merit. The exhibition explores, too, how it was that these nomads came to establish the largest contiguous land empire that the world has ever seen.
Constant adaptation
‘What you see with mobile groups like nomads is how human groups can understand changing conditions and learn to live alongside them’, says Marie Favereau, exhibition curator and also curator at Nantes History Museum. ‘For them, it’s really a case of non-stop adaptation. The steppe nomads live in the northern part of the world, and it can be a very cold place. If you go to Mongolia today, in the winter it can reach −40°C , so it’s really something. At the same time, the summer temperatures are hot and go above 30°C , which means that the amplitude is huge. Among the Mongols, the individual groups that travelled together were small, and made up of families, animals, and tents. This is one of the reasons why families were so important, because they really did live in them. As you would expect, these groups moved quite regularly, because otherwise they would exhaust the land. Even staying in one place for a month can risk over-grazing the grassland. The Mongols were very aware of the natural resources available around them and how to manage them.’
‘All of the essentials of everyday activity were carefully tailored to a nomadic way of life. Horses, of course, were essential to the Mongols for transport and war, but they could also travel with many other kinds of animal, including camels, sheep, and goats. A type of fermented mare’s milk called airag was produced seasonally in the spring and summer. This was central to the nomads’ diet and is still made in Mongolia. As the beverage is slightly alcoholic, it is much safer to drink than water in those areas where there isn’t access to a clean supply. So producing and drinking airag was really a way to survive. One thing that is particularly interesting about it is that, while some people are lactose intolerant and can’t drink milk, airag can be digested because of the fermentation process that it undergoes.’
‘The temperature range across the year made clothing very important. Fur coats were used in the winter, while silk is fantastic in both hot and cold conditions. There was – and is – also a type of robe called a deel, which can be worn by men, women, and children. These robes are large, and you wear them with a nice belt. The idea is that you can move very freely in such garments: you can run, you can work, you can ride. Their tents were well designed for a mobile lifestyle as well. These are round, made of felt, coloured white, and in Mongolian they are known as a ger, while Turkic speakers call them yurts, as in the West. Perhaps the first thing that we think of when imagining nomads is that these are people who have no home. But the truth is the exact opposite. These are people who have one home, they love it, and they can take it with them. So everywhere they go, they are always at home.’
Winter was the time of year when the Mongols travelled most regularly. While their diet allowed them to survive the harsh conditions, it was harder for animals to find grass under the snow. This meant that the land was exhausted faster, making it essential to move on frequently. The plunging temperatures even aided the nomads in this, by freezing the rivers and so making it easier to traverse the terrain. Surprisingly, from a Western perspective, winter was also when the Mongols made war. Once again, their motive can be traced to a careful consideration of how nomadic lifestyles were most effectively synched to the cycles of the natural world. In this case, it was much better for the animals in their entourage to be travelling less during the spring and summer months, because this was when they gave birth, and so needed rest. As the young were being nursed, it was the time for milking and producing airag as well. Politics was conducted in this portion of the year, too. Among the Mongols, just like us, this involved a lot of discussion. All of the nomadic elites would get together at an assembly called a kuriltai. Even if there was a city nearby, this gathering would al ways take place in the steppe, and provided the forum where decisions were taken and justice was administered.
An expanding empire
When it comes to understanding how the Mongols built their empire, it is important to appreciate that they were not the first people from this region to control expansive territories. According to ancient Chinese sources, as early as the 3rd century BC, a nomadic group called the Xiongnu founded an empire on the east Asian steppe. Some scholars have proposed a link between them and the Huns. The latter are generally believed to have originated amid the steppe region, before migrating westwards and coming into conflict with the Roman Empire in the 5th century AD. Other groups – such as the Turks (6th-8th centuries AD), Uyghurs (8th-9th centuries AD), and Khitan (10th-12th centuries AD) – are historically attested in parts of what are now Mongolia, northern China, eastern Russia, and central Asia. Because of these precursors, among others, the Mongols did not need to invent the mechanics of empire for themselves. Instead, they could draw on experience of statecraft and methods of taxation and administration – including writing – that had already long existed in the region when Genghis Khan assumed his title in 1206.
The Mongols’ finely tuned relationship with the natural world also gave them an advantage when it came to ensuring that they drew maximum advantage from the terrain. It is generally believed that the actual number of Mongols during the 13th century amounted to under a million people. When you set this against the vast extent of their empire, and the several hundred million subject peoples within it, it is clear that the Mongols could not control all of it themselves. One way they maximised the impact of their numbers was by taking a keen interest in geography. Rather than trying to police the entirety of sweeping plains, for example, effort was concentrated on securing key natural or artificial links in the landscape, such as the Black Sea straits or crossing points on rivers. Ensuring that these connections were controlled went a long way towards getting a firm grip on the far greater tracts of land that they provided access to. Even so, it is clear enough that this task would be simplified if subject peoples could be persuaded to work alongside them. The Mongols’ reputation for merciless slaughter does, though, raise the question of just how interested they were in harnessing the potential benefits of willing collaboration.
‘Because we have this image of crazy Mongols killing everybody, it is not widely appreciated how effective they were at negotiating with local elites’, says Marie. ‘Their terrifying reputation was part of that. The whole idea was that if people feared them and surrendered immediately, then the Mongols could win without even having to fight. That was the biggest victory of all. Of course, one drawback is that the image they created became so convincing that it has stuck with them down to today. We often hear about whole settlements resisting the Mongols and being wiped out as a result, but in reality they negotiated with a lot of cities. After all, their aim was not to raid places, take the loot, and raze them to the ground; they were out to build an empire. For that, you need subjects who will work for you and pay taxes. If you just kill everyone, you have nothing. One way that we can see this is in the care that the Mongols took to develop census records, so that they could pin down how many people lived in a place, how much tax they could pay, and what they would pay it with – be it coins, furs, silk, and so forth.’
The power of pragmaticism
‘The Mongols were very flexible when it came to hiring people. They wanted everyone to work with them, which is really the opposite of their reputation for wholesale slaughter. Instead, they would assess what skills people had, whether they knew how to write, how to speak languages, how to count, how to trade, what they could make, and so on. The Mongols would then find suitable jobs for them. So every time the empire grew, more people would be hired, and they would be given good positions – good enough for them to want to stay. Otherwise, they would try to run away. The Mongols understood that they couldn’t force people to work as essentially prisoners; they had to convince their subjects that the system worked for them too. As part of that, they created a special status for craftsmen and religious figures, basically exempting them from taxation and conscription. Unsurprisingly, this gained them a lot of support from the religious elite.’
‘Another thing that helped the Mongols was that they didn’t devote their empire to one specific religion. They certainly had their own spirituality – the Mongols believed in Tengri God Sky, with Tengri deeply associated with s¸lde, the vital force that gave warriors majesty, masculine strength, and good fortune; they believed that spirits could dwell in places and creatures; and they believed in the ancestors. But so long as people were loyal, supported them, and paid their taxes, they could worship freely. So there were Christians, Muslims, Jewish people, Buddhists, Taoists: all faiths could have their share. It was a clever move, because at that time there was a lot of religious conflict in central Asia, for example, with violence ensuing from attempts to force people to adopt their ruler’s beliefs. We have accounts written by witnesses from the West, such as Franciscan friars, who entered the Mongol Empire and were astonished by the tolerance that they saw.’
This respect for the ways of others extended to arts and crafts. Nomads are sometimes written off as being largely unproductive in these fields, and essentially dependent on the skills and ideas of others. The truth, though, can be very different. On one level, the Mongols innovated new kinds of saddles that were comfy for both the rider and the horse. On another, Genghis Khan’s birth name of Tem¸jin is a reminder that the Mongols knew how to work metal, and iron was indeed produced in the mountains of Mongolia. They also made gold and silver objects, as well as ceramics. At the same time, the Mongols appreciated that in many cases there were other people who could make even finer versions of such goods. One example concerns clothing. It was long assumed that the beautiful silk robes sent to the West for trade or as diplomatic gifts were originally produced in China. Over the last decade, though, it has become apparent that the Mongols established their own workshops, and then filled them with artisans drawn from across their empire. They adopted a similar approach to many other crafts – as well as the sciences – and the results could be transformative. While skilled workers would normally guard the secrets of their methods, the Mongols’ multicultural workshops encouraged an exchange of ideas. One of the most famous fruits of this approach is the blue-and-white porcelain that we typically credit to China. It was the Mongols who were behind the emergence of this style, though, which required the mingling of two different craft technologies, one from China and the other from Persia.
Catering for the needs of the numerous religions and types of artisan present in the empire prompted the Mongols to invest in something that is typically seen as alien to nomadic life: cities. The most famous one to be founded by them was called Karakorum, which lies towards the centre of modern Mongolia. Although there is little to be seen above ground today, archaeological work has revealed much about the rise and fall of a settlement that essentially appeared out of nowhere as the ultimate green field site. Its location was picked in part because it provided access to both a river and the clay that was needed to produce the bricks that were used to build Karakorum. These were fired on-site by skilled craftsmen from Central Asia and China, so the first structures to be installed were kilns. The new city featured a range of religious buildings, including Buddhist temples, mosques, and a Christian church, as well as workshops for craftsmen whose trades made it impractical for them to be permanently on the move. While Karakorum serves as a physical testament to the Mongols’ commitment to a pluralistic society and excellence in the crafts, its ultimate fate reflects just how incongruous a city was in this nomadic world. There was no longer a role for it in the centuries following the collapse of the Mongol Empire, so Karakorum was picked clean of visible brickwork – in part to build a nearby monastery – and the precise outline of the city was lost for centuries.
Effective communications were needed to bind such a vast empire together, and here the Mongols’ skill as riders delivered a definite advantage. They adopted a pre-existing technique for a postal system called the yam, and applied it on a breathtaking scale across their territory. This involved establishing stations every 30km or so along major routes, where couriers were able to exchange their mount for a fresh horse and receive sustenance. For systems such as this to be effective, it was important that people were able to prove who they were, and so the Mongols developed documents known as paiza or gerege, which served as safe conducts. These took the form of wooden or, more frequently, metal tablets that identify the bearer as an official, in order to ensure that their demands would be met.
It was not just men who moved about the empire. ‘Women could enjoy very high status in the Mongol world, and were able to go where they pleased’, says Marie. ‘A woman could ride a horse, fight on a battlefield, have her own merchants and traders, and make her own investments. She could also choose her own religion, and we know of couples where the husband and wife belonged to different faiths. Some women wielded significant political power, too. Elite women participated in the big political assemblies, where they would be seated with the men – rather than separated – and spoke up as well. One of Genghis Khan’s daughters, Alakai Beki, became a leader in her own right. It was also Genghis Khan’s first wife, Börte, who agreed to honour the marriage that was arranged while his father was still alive. She brought a dowry of a black sable-fur coat, which provided the wealth that he needed to make the alliances that enabled his rise to power in the first place. So Temüjin/Genghis Khan’s early career was only possible because Börte supported him.’
Fresh finds
The exhibition is notable for featuring a range of artefacts that have been recovered in excavations conducted over the last decade or so. One of the reasons for this is the importance that modern Mongolia attaches to finding and understanding its past. Another concerns the approach that the Mongols took to their cemeteries. ‘In many cultures you mark burials and show where a cemetery is’, Marie explains. ‘In Mongol culture it was completely different, because it was forbidden to go to burial sites, or to know where they are, so they were hidden. We have yet to locate Genghis Khan’s burial site, for example. That means there is still a lot for modern archaeologists to find. A number of old burials have been discovered and examined in recent years. The deceased were buried in their clothes, and also with grave goods that can include weapons, such as bows, as well as jewellery, sewing sets, pouches, belts, cups, mirrors, and saddles. Some of these burials give us a touching glimpse of the Mongols as normal people, rather than the elites that dominate the official chronicles/records of the 13th-14th centuries AD. We can see elements of their belief system, too. Mirrors were considered important because they connected this life to the afterlife. In many cases, rituals included sacrifices of horses and sheep, which would sometimes be eaten, and then parts of their bones would be buried with the deceased person. Horses, especially, were considered as guides, helping the dead to go to a specific place in the afterlife.’
When it comes to understanding the demise of the Mongol Empire itself, a combination of calamities seems to have been to blame. One issue was internal power struggles between rival Mongol lineages, who were concentrated in different parts of the empire, creating fractures within it. Another source of tension concerned how succession of the khan should be managed, because an eldest son was not necessarily seen as a natural heir. Alongside these internal problems came a host of external challenges. The early 14th century ushered in a period of cooler conditions known as the Little Ice Age, which inflicted far harsher winters on the steppe, and took its toll on the animals that the Mongols relied on. Compounding this, the Black Death wreaked havoc in the mid-14th century. Although the small groups of nomads fared better than those cramped together in cities, the cost in lives was still great. The ensuing economic turmoil was also disastrous, because the Mongols’ trade partners in places like Egypt and Europe had been devastated. Another challenge to external connections came with the rise of the Ottoman Empire in the 14th-15th centuries, which progressively restricted Mongol access to the Black Sea, closing off their gateway to the West.
These pressures caused different parts of the Mongol Empire to collapse at different times. In Iran and Anatolia, for example, Genghis Khan’s lineage fell in 1335, after a succession crisis. More than 30 years later, it was floods, famine, and rebellion that led to the rise of the Ming dynasty in China in 1368. While other Mongol clans survived for longer, they were still weakened by political conflict, climate change, and the Black Death. In some places this allowed new powers to emerge and lay claim to the Mongol legacy, such as Timur in Central Asia. Elsewhere, it was the Ottoman activity in the Black Sea and Tsar Ivan IV’s conquest of the Volga Valley in the 16th century that ended Mongol influence in eastern Europe. Despite the disappearance of the Mongol Empire, its legacy endured in many spheres. Later dynasties who claimed descent from Genghis Khan can be found across Eurasia, while the empire has cast a long shadow in the arenas of politics, arts, and local identities.
Further information: The exhibition Genghis Khan: how the Mongols changed the world will run until 1 November 2026 at the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds. During the summer, the museum will also host displays of Mongolian riding skills. For more details, including ticket prices and time slots, go to https://royalarmouries.org/leeds/whats-on/genghis-khan.
