As is well known, the Mamluk Sultanate of Egypt and Syria (1250–1517 ce) was led by a military-political elite of Eurasian Steppe provenance, brought as youths to the lands of the Eastern Mediterranean.Footnote 1 In many ways, the Sultanate represents the culmination of a development that had its beginnings in the early ninth century in the ʿAbbasid Caliphate: the creation of a guard corps and other units based on Turks who were brought from the Steppe, after being separated from their families, and were thus plucked out of their pastoral nomadic and tribal society. These young Turks entered the Islamic world as slaves and were known mostly in the early centuries as ghilmān (singular ghulām), ‘youths’, but later as mamālīk (singular mamlūk), ‘owned ones’.Footnote 2 In some cases, these soldiers were defined legally as slaves throughout their career, but in the Mamluk Sultanate, they were manumitted after several years of training. At the same time, they proudly retained the group name recalling their early servile status, although they were often also referred to as al-Turk or al-Atrāk, the Arabic plural. Most of these were Qipchaq Turks, from the steppes north of the Black Sea and the Caucasus, but additional groups of Turks, Mongols and others were also well represented, including some individuals of non-Steppe origin.Footnote 3 The impact of the Eurasian military tradition in the Mamluk Sultanate has been long noted by scholars: Mamluk troopers were trained primarily as mounted archers, and the Mamluk army was based on disciplined masses of such soldiers. I should mention that there is some disagreement among scholars about how this Steppe military tradition was affected by the sedentary and urban lifestyle of the Mamluks. To my mind, in spite of the substantial impact of this adopted urban environment, the basic methods and style of Mamluk warfare remained remarkably similar to those practiced in the Eurasian Steppe society from which they hailed.Footnote 4
Other aspects of the Inner Asian legacy in the Mamluk Sultanate can also be explored. In this short article, I will look at a few characteristics of this cultural heritage especially as it impinged on daily life of the military-political elite, dealing briefly with names, language, drinking habits, sports, hunting, a religious ritual of sorts, and cultural awareness. I am very happy to make this modest contribution to the special issue devoted to our teacher, colleague and friend David Morgan, who has done so much in the last generation to bring to the attention of scholarly circles, and those beyond, the importance of the role of Eurasian Steppe people in Middle Eastern and world history.Footnote 5 Here I hope to show the impact of this culture in one particular state, which achieved fame for its consistent, and generally successful, opposition to the Mongols of Iran, the focus of much of Professor Morgan's work.
One of the most striking features of Mamluk life is that the Mamluks themselves almost exclusively carried Turkish or Mongol personal names, even if they had a different provenance. In fact, this was a badge of honour among them and a clear sign of distinction from the vast majority of the population whom they controlled, even their own sons who invariably were given Arabic-Islamic names.Footnote 6 Thus a typical Mamluk amīr—‘officer’—might be referred to as Ḥusām al-Dīn Uzdamur ibn ʿAbdallāh al-Mujīrī:Footnote 7 the laqab (honorific with al-dīn, ‘the religion’, as a second element) Ḥusām al-Dīn showing his Muslim notable status and Uzdamur (the Arabic transcription of Özdemür, ‘Real Iron’) being his personal name (ism). Ibn ʿAbdallāh (‘the son of the servant of God’) demonstrated that he was a convert—his pagan father being consigned to oblivion: this generic nasab (genealogy), by the way, almost invariably and clearly shows our Turk to be a Mamluk. Finally, the nisba (the adjective with a –ī ending indicating geographic, ethnic or other origin) al-Mujīrī shows might have been an early patron, in this case a merchant Mujīr al-Dīn who had brought young Uzdamur to the Sultanate. To these names could added nicknames, the terms for various jobs filled early on one's career and other monikers to distinguish one Mamluk from the other. Yet, at the centre was the Turkish private name, carried generally only by Mamluks. The extensive biographical collections of the Mamluk period are full of hundreds of entries of more-or-less prominent officers with such nice Turkish names, a pleasure for any with a taste for such matters.Footnote 8
While this use of Turkish names was both symbolically important and served as a clear distinction between the Mamluks and the rest of the population, also significant was the invariable use of the Turkish language by the Mamluks themselves. This is well attested by the Arabic sources themselves, who often note en passant that the Mamluks would be speaking Turkish. One nice example is from early on in the history of the Sultanate. Around 1253, a group of Baḥrī Mamluks—comrades of the future sultan Baybars—were taken prisoner by a rival group in some of the infighting that was to become so characteristic of the Sultanate's history. Being led along in chains to prison in the Cairo Citadel, they spied above the wife of the Sultan, Shajar al-Durr, also of Qipchaq Turkish provenance (and one of their gang, so to speak), looking down at them. The Arabic source clearly notes: they yelled up to her in Turkish asking for help. She shouted down that she was sorry but could not help.Footnote 9 This is a touching story, with some interesting cultural information on the side.
Most Mamluks must have had some knowledge of spoken Arabic and the rudiments at least of the written variety. A good part of their training was devoted to ‘civilian’ topics, which concentrated on the basic elements of Islam, and thus must have included at least some formal exposure to literary Arabic.Footnote 10 The daily contact with the Arabic speaking natives of Egypt and Syria surely gave most of them a working knowledge of the colloquial language. Some we know were quite learned in Arabic and Islamic sciences, and there were even writers of fine Arabic prose among them.Footnote 11 An outstanding example of this is Baybars al-Manṣūrī al-Dawādār (d. 1325), who was both a senior officer and a prolific author of well-written histories, most importantly, Zubdat al-fikra fī ta’rīkh ahl al-hijra.Footnote 12 Others, such as the sultan Qalāwūn (1279–90), appear to have been not only illiterate in Arabic, but to have had little knowledge of the spoken language.Footnote 13 Yet, with all this exposure and use of Arabic, without a doubt the daily language of discourse among the Mamluks themselves was surely Turkish, and those Mamluks who were not of Turkish provenance probably quickly learned this language in order to function within this military society. An example of how this worked is seen from 1266: Baybars having conquered the Frankish town of Qārā in north Syria, had decided to turn a group of captive Frankish youths into Mamluks, the first step of which was having them taught Turkish.Footnote 14
There was also some literature—and I use this term broadly—in Turkish composed in the Mamluk Sultanate or brought there.Footnote 15 Many of these volumes were devotional works, but they also included a furūsiyya (generally, ‘horsemanship’) training manual and Turkish-Arabic dictionaries. They mostly date from later Mamluk times (1382–1517), which is still often mistakenly called the Burjī period. Contemporaries, however, referred to it generally as the Circassian period, after the then leading ethnic group in the Sultanate.Footnote 16 It is interesting that it is actually in this later era that there is this mini-flowering of written Turkish culture, indicating the continuing domination of Turkish as the daily tongue, and even as a literary language of sorts, in the military society of Egypt and Syria.
The Mamluks were converted to Islam at an early age and clearly identified with this religion. Whether they always obeyed all of its religious laws is another matter.Footnote 17 Here and there, they kept up some non-Muslim aspects of the culture into which they were born. One of these was the drinking of qumiz, or fermented mare's milk. We have some examples in the Mamluk sources of drinking parties of the elite in which qumiz was featured. In fact, Sultan Baybars, in spite of his militant Muslim public persona which included the frequent closure of wine houses and brothels, is recorded as having indulged in this practice with his comrades. It was at one such event that the Sultan met his demise; in unclear circumstances, he drank poisoned qumiz that soon led to his death.Footnote 18 Baybars himself evidently did not see any dissonance between his deeply held personal and public Islamic faith and indulging in the odd cup of this traditional Steppe beverage.
There is a little evidence of ongoing rituals among the Mamluks from the traditional religion of Eurasian Steppe societies, what is often referred to as Shamanism.Footnote 19 One outstanding example is a story told about Sultan Qalāwūn: at times in engaged in the practice of scapulamancy, i.e. divination of the future by the reading of cracks on burnt scapulae (shoulder blades) of sheep.Footnote 20 Was this just the tip of the shamanistic iceberg, and did other members of the Mamluk military society—officers and common soldiers—indulge in this and other rituals originating in the Steppe? If this were the case, perhaps Muslim writers of Arabic in the Sultanate played down what they would have considered despicable acts? I think this unlikely however: not all the historians of the Mamluk era were beholden to the ruling elite, and it is difficult to see how widespread practices from the pagan Steppe milieu could have been kept under wraps for long. It seems to me much more plausible that rituals like the one in which Qalāwūn engaged were rare. In the realm of religion and related matters, the intensive Muslim education that the young Mamluks received over the years, along with the all-pervading Islamic ambience in which they continually found themselves, had a great, even decisive impact. Overall, I might suggest that the religious slate of their Steppe childhood had more-or-less been wiped clean. In this connection, it is worth remembering a story in connection to the Oirat Mongol wāfidiyya (refugees) who arrived in large numbers to the Mamluk Sultanate in the mid-1290s. The Mamluk officers were scandalised by their pagan method of slaughtering horses for meat, by pounding the animals on the head, instead of the normative sharʿī technique.Footnote 21
There is some mention in the Arabic sources about the use and application of the Mongol Yasa (law) in the Sultanate.Footnote 22 Some forty years ago, David Ayalon in a series of important and wide-ranging articles convincingly showed that these occasional references cannot be taken at face value, and there was little if any application of the Yasa by the Mamluk authorities.Footnote 23 However, the fact that the Yasa does have some prominence in the Mamluk sources, both in descriptions of the ‘enemy’ as well as at home, shows a great fascination with the subject, reflecting perhaps both the danger and the prestige of the Mongols in Mamluk eyes, or at least the great interest that they generated.Footnote 24
Perhaps as to be expected, the Mamluks not only fought on horseback, but also played on it. Somewhere between military manoeuvers and plain fun was polo, known in Arabic as laʿb al-kura, literally, the ‘game of the ball’. Polo's exact beginnings are shrouded in mystery, although they were probably in Central Asia or Iran. Whatever its provenance, it had become an integral part of Eurasian Steppe culture, and it is probably from there that the Mamluks brought it to Egypt; a more direct Iranian influence, however cannot be discounted.Footnote 25 In any case, the early sultans—foremost among them Baybars—and the Mamluk elite were avid players, playing it regularly in one of the Cairo hippodromes.Footnote 26 One indication of the game's importance was the position of jūkandār, from the Persian chawkandār, or ‘holder of the polo mallets’; this court functionary was usually a young royal Mamluk whose job was to take care of the Sultan's polo equipment.Footnote 27 Not a few Mamluk officers carried this title their entire life, long after they had moved on and upwards in the court and army, showing their pride in this particular job.Footnote 28 While primarily a form of enjoying leisure time, polo had the secondary benefit of honing riding skills. This game both reflected the high level of the Mamluks’ horsemanship, and at the same time made them even better horsemen.
Related to the matter of equestrian sport among the Mamluks was a penchant for hunting, which was also a staple of Steppe life. Most of our evidence relates to relatively small-scale affairs of the Sultan, his court and the senior officers in the countryside around Cairo.Footnote 29 Occasionally, we read of larger scale activity of this type, at least in Syria. Thus in early1265, before the campaign against the Crusader city of Arsūf (today, just north of Tel Aviv), Sultan Baybars initiated a large hunt for lions in the nearby forest.Footnote 30 Implicitly, this movement surely had the secondary benefit of getting the troops into full form just before a campaign, although our source, explicitly tells us that the real goal of the Sultan, besides the pleasure that he surely derived from this activity, was to spy upon the Frankish fortifications and readiness. Of course, these goals do not need contradict each other. We should remember the famous phenomenon of the role of the large scale hunt among the Mongols, which had as one of its purposes the training of coordination among large numbers of soldiers and units.Footnote 31 The Inner Asian influence fitted very well the indigenous Near Eastern tradition of the hunt.Footnote 32
Can we talk about any real sense of cultural or ethnic awareness among the Mamluks of Egypt or Syria, particularly regarding their Inner Asian origins and the society from which they were taken? Indeed, there seems to have been some feeling of a special provenance, different from the vast majority of subjects, in spite of the common religion. The Arabic sources refer to the Mamluk Sultanate as Dawlat al-Turk, Dawlat al-Atrāk, or al-Dawla al-Turkiyya, i.e., the Dynasty (more correct here than the modern meaning of ‘State’) of the Turks, or the Turkish Dynasty, and never al-Dawla al-Mamlūkiyya or Dawlat al-Mamālīk, which are modern constructions.Footnote 33 This may represent the independent views of these Arabic, mostly Muslims writers, but I think it more likely that it also shows their understanding of how the Mamluks—elite and common troopers—saw themselves. We can remember that there is a not an insignificant group of Arabic writers in the Sultanate who were the sons and grandsons of Mamluks, and even historians writing in Arabic who were themselves members of the Mamluk elite. The most famous of these is the celebrated Baybars al-Manṣūrī, already mentioned but there was also the lesser-known Qirṭāy (or Qaraṭāy) al-Khaznadār (fl. early 14th century).Footnote 34 Among the descendants of Mamluks who wrote history and related literature, we can note Ibn al-Dawādārī (fl. 1330s), al-Ṣafadī (d. 1363); Ibn Taghrī Birdī (d. 1470), and Ibn Iyās (d. 1524).Footnote 35 All of these would have been conduits of information about Turkish (and other) ethnicity and identity among the Mamluks to the mainstream of historical writing from the period. In addition, there are frequent notices in the Arabic sources to the Qipchaqi ethnicity of the Mamluks and how this influenced the search for new Mamluks.Footnote 36 The above mentioned Turkish-Arabic dictionaries also reflects an awareness of a special culture, let alone a distinct language, giving expression to intellectual curiosity among learned Arabic speakers, let alone the need by Arab speaking officials to facilitate communication with the Mamluks.Footnote 37
In the connection of cultural awareness, even nostalgia, I can mention a particularly interesting instance recorded by Ibn al-Dawādārī, the grandson of Mamluk officers on both sides. He tells of his participation of a study group of Mamluks and civilians that met to learn about Turkish and Mongol culture and stories. In fact, this author brings us the text in Arabic of a short work that describes in some detail the origin myths of both groups. This remarkable text has been analysed in some depth by the late Ulrich Haarmann, and is familiar to scholars of both the Mongols and Mamluks.Footnote 38 Whether these meetings and the composition in question represent a larger trend of cultural and intellectual activity in the Mamluk Sultanate is unclear, but I would wager that it was not a unique occurrence. Certainly, there were some Mamluks of Mongol origin, notably Aytamish (or Ūtāmish) al-Muḫammadī (d. 1336), a Mamluk of Sultan al-Nāṣir Muḫammad, who was an expert in Mongolian language and culture, and could have provided a focus for learning and discussion of such matters.Footnote 39
What were the avenues of Steppe influence on the military, social and cultural life of the Mamluks? Certainly, the provenance of the Mamluks themselves played a role, having arrived in the Sultanate mostly from the lands north of the Black Sea, the Caucasus and the Caspian at a relatively early age. We can remember that certain Mamluks, such as the just mentioned Aytamish, had great knowledge and a profound understanding of the cultures of Steppes, and these would have intensified such nascent influences. In the early decades of the Mamluk Sultanate, successive groups of Mongols and Turkish soldiers—tribesmen and even Mamluk-like troopers from conquered areas such as Iraq and Anatolia—fled to its territories from across the Euphrates and were integrated into its army and the political life; generally these military refugees, known inter alia as wāfidiyya, were relegated to secondary political and military status, but this does not mean that their cultural impact was not significant. Baybars, Qalāwūn and al-Nāṣir Muḫammad were married to women of clear Inner Asian origin, including a few Mongols, and overall, the Mamluks preferred wives of such provenance.Footnote 40 The role of women in conveying cultural elements from the Steppe to the Sultanate would be an interesting avenue to pursue in the future studies.
Overall, we should keep in mind the overriding significance of Muslim religion and culture on the Mamluks when looking at the impact of Inner Asian Steppe culture on them. True: the Mamluks spoke Turkish, had Turkish names, at times drank a Turkish alcoholic beverage, etc. But as mentioned above, I think that an extremely formative—perhaps the most seminal—feature of their conscious and unconscious life was the Islam to which they had been exposed even before arriving in the Sultanate (by slave merchants), and driven home by years of orderly education and indirectly by the Muslims who surrounded them and their culture. The Mamluks may have lapsed at times in their strict observance of all the Muslim laws and rituals, but this does not mean that they did not see themselves as loyal Muslims whose job it was to defend the Islam and the Muslim community as a whole. As expressed in coins, inscriptions, documents and countless literary sources, and well as through their hundreds (or thousands) of construction projects spread over Egypt and Syria, the Mamluks were dyed in the wool Muslims in their own way.Footnote 41 Of Steppe origin certainly, speaking Turkish among themselves of course and practicing aspects of Steppe culture at times for sure. But their deepest loyalties were to each other (most of the time) and to Islam invariably, and when push came to shove, it was as Muslims that they fought.