Khyber Pass
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Khyber Pass
EXCERPT: Passing through Dawn
The work is a historical journey through the Khyber Pass. It describes the artists, poets, and scientists who followed in the wake of armies and empires that ruled it Of all the many armies that have marched through the Khyber, the one that sprang first to my restive mind was that of Genghis Khan. Far from home and bloodied in many campaigns, these Mongols must have inspired a dreadful terror in the Khyber tribes as they passed through with hurried determination.
I that am termed the scourge and wrath of God, the only fear and terror of the world
— CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE
(Tamburlaine the Great)
I LOOKED down on the final mile of the Khyber Pass, towards the eastern entrance, as the sun behind me cast a weakening light upon the winding road ahead. It was late afternoon and the bright winter sky was beginning to deepen in colour, presaging dusk. We had parked the Landcruiser and stood by the roadside for a last view of the Pass before we returned to Peshawar. The armed guard waited silently beside, me, AK47 over his shoulder, while Mumtaz walked about restlessly, making a few comments in guidebook style. I was, this time, paying no attention. Like a schoolboy trying to contain his excitement, I was absorbing what I could of a sight that all of the many Khyber conquerors had enjoyed across the centuries: the first glimpse of the plains of South Asia through the narrow entrance, of the great pass. Of all the many armies that have marched through the Khyber, the one that sprang first to my restive mind was that of Genghis Khan. Abandoning any pretence of scholarly composure, I became a child again and pictured many thousands of rugged and terrifying horsemen, dusty and weather-beaten, jostling along the meandering road, impatient to reach their goal. Far from home and bloodied in many campaigns, these Mongols must have inspired a dreadful terror in the Khyber tribes as they passed through with hurried determination.
How was it that these nomads from inner Asia should be descending upon India? What gave Genghis Khan such a powerful command over his followers that he was able to bring them thousands of miles from their homes and pastures? As we returned to the jeep and began the drive back to Peshawar, I thought of the Mongols riding the same road 800 years before, and of the steely character that drove them on.
The story of the Mongols as an overwhelming, conquering force begins with Genghis himself. Before he rose to rule over the nomads of Mongolia they were not a united people and had not troubled the outside world with the sweeping invasions which characterised them under Genghis and his successors. To an unusual degree, the creation of the Mongol nation was the work of one man and is a story of a remarkable triumph over adversity, a story that begins in the late 12th century when the great warlord Genghis Khan was just a boy named Temujin.
A famous story from Temujin’s childhood signals the ruthless nature come. Picture him on a hillside in the grassy steppes of Mongolia, some time in the 1170s, creeping up behind his halfbrother Begter, with bow and arrow in hand. Earlier that day, they had quarrelled over a fish and a bird that Temujin had caught; as the elder, Begter had had claimed them for himself, leaving Temujin to slink away and brood, taking his younger brother Kasar with him. Now they had returned to advance stealthily on their bullying sibling, who was sitting on a rise watching over some horses. Temujin and Kasar closed in on Begter, drew their bows and killed him where he sat. They returned home, leaving the body of their brother abandoned on the grass.
The murder of his half-brother was just one among many early signs, of the merciless temperament that would see Temujin bend the Mongol people to his purposes in the coming years and set them on a path to savage and shattering victories against advanced civilisations everywhere. This inexorably flinty character — formed out of the harsh life on the inhospitable steppe of Inner Asia — was allied to an impressive political facility that allowed him to gain followers of great loyalty and lead them with skill. These qualities combined to enable Temujin to transform him self from an outcast living in poverty into the emperor of millions, the founder of a dynasty that would come to rule the ancient and powerful civilisations of China in the East and Iran to the West, strike deep into Europe, and raid India through the Khyber Pass.
In the late 12th century the Mongols lived a nomadic life divided into tribes and clans, ranging their herds across what is now northern Mongolia, especially between the Onon and Kherlen rivers. Mongolian and the Turkic tongues form two branches of the family of Altaic languages, denoting a close ethnic affinity between the respective groups; Turkish tribes to the West such as the, Naiman and Kerait bordered on the Mongol pastures in this era. Related also were the Tatars and Manchus to the East: all these peoples shared a common linguistic and cultural heritage. They also shared a migratory life on horseback, shifting camp as the seasons changed in search of fresh grazing. Hunting and the tending of their livestock were the daily preoccupations, with this pastoral routine being interrupted by tribal wars or by raids on their neighbours to seize the mobile wealth manifested in horses and herds. Earlier in the century, the Mongol tribes had been united under a leader named Kabul — the great-grandfather of Temujin — who had plunged his people into war with the Jin dynasty in China and with the Tatars to the East. In this way, the Mongols were brought to the brink of power but were then compre hensively defeated by the Jin Chinese in around 1160: their unity was abolished and they fragmented into tiny family groups, returning to their herds and pastures with their ambitions for empire abandoned.
The countryside in which these nomads fed their herds and fought their wars — roughly modern Mongolia — was loosely bounded by the Altai Mountains and the Gobi Desert, characterised by extremes of height and aridity respectively. Much of it, however, comprised the great plateau of steppe grassland, undulating and treeless, stretching for hundreds of miles. This was the classic terrain of the Mongol nomad: wide swathes of swelling hills and open plains reaching far into the distance under the broad firmament for which Mongolians sometimes name their country the ‘Land of the Blue Sky’. This steppe is grassy but not always verdant: only in the brief spring do the sweeping hills turn a vivid green, as new pasture leaps into life to provide the herds with a few weeks of plush feeding. When long, the grass gives a lively dance under the stiff steppe wind, the blades being swept together, one way and another in unison, as if a giant invisible hand were stroking an expanse of velvet back and forth. This time of luxuriance is brief, however, for the steppe passes through extremes of climate: scorching heat in summer and blankets of snow in the long winter. The sharp sun and uncertain rains in the summer threaten a desiccation that can ruin livestock; the harsh winters imperil the herds — and their herders — through their icy bite and the hungry isolation caused by snowdrifts and stiff Siberian winds.
It is from this landscape of frequent hardship that the Mongol tribes of the 12th century sought to eke out a living. The principal source for this period of Mongolian history is The Secret History of the Mongols, and it tells of this time as one of especial strife and difficulty following the defeat by the Jin, the losses of war adding to the natural constraints upon life on the steppe. Probably written in 1228 by unknown bards or scribes, the Secret History gives a vivid account of the origins of the Mongols and the rise of Genghis Khan, their unifying leader who had died the year before. In this colourful text — one of very few pieces of written evidence for the history of Genghis and his people — the period after the defeat by Jin is remembered as a time of discord, a leaderless age of disharmony and poverty. With no central authority or overarching ruler in these years, we can suppose that quarrels between tribes and families were fierce as they sought to survive on the inhospitable steppe, competing desperately for the scant resources it offered. It was during this turbulent time that Temujin entered the world; indeed, his very conception was brought about through an act of violence, his father kidnapping his mother and forcing her into marriage.
His father died when Temujin was just eight years old, and the young boy and his family were cast out by the tribe, set adrift on the cold ocean of grassland where they struggled to survive. The Secret History tells us much about their sufferings and leaves little doubt that the motive for the steely rise of Temujin lay in these years of privation; his willingness to murder even his own kin showed that Temujin was capable of acting with amazing ruthlessness to secure his interests. Allied to this, however, was his undoubted skill in politics and fabled charisma; as he grew into a man, Temujin exercised these talents to the full in gaining the adherence of a growing number of the Mongol tribes. Over the years, he fought battles and demanded acquiescence until he had achieved a dominance over the Mongols that was beyond dispute.
The final act in this rise was the legitimisation of his power. Temujin called a mass gathering of the clans in 1206, the culmination of the rise to power of the young steppe outcast: he was acclaimed by his swollen population as the great Khan of all the Mongols, undisputed ruler of the realm of the people of the felt tents. His unparalleled power demanded a new classification, and Temujin was, given the title of Genghis Khan — more accurately Chingis Khan — a term invented afresh for the occasion of disputed meaning today, but doubtless reflecting his untrammeled dominance. In this triumph, he had achieved his grand goal, the strident ambition burnished by his early years of hardship and poverty. He was supreme in his powers, at the mercy no more of the whims and fancies of others, but a ruler commanding terrified respect from a million subjects and the committed devotion of a mighty army.
The rise of Temujin to Genghis Khan — from fatherless outsider to ruler of all the Mongols and many other tribes besides — was all the more remarkable because it was necessary for him to fashion a state to grow alongside his influence. Most kings and emperors achieve power within an existing polity, either by inheritance or violence, and work within its institutions to secure their authority and achieve their aims. Even the greatest founders of empires tended to acquire power through the extant system — Cyrus the Great, Alexander the Great, Chandragupta Maurya all included. Temujin, however, found no such polity among the peoples of Mongolia, and set about building a state for himself, organised to serve his ends. Tribal formations were refashioned and an army was created to promote the Great Mongol Nation and his own universalist world-view. The pastoral population of this nascent political system maintained their migratory life but were now mobilised behind the ambition of their new ruler.
Genghis adopted a strategy of detribalisation to ensure the fidelity of his population. The focus of loyalty was no longer to be the tribe but the Khan himself Genghis promoted his most devoted adherents, regardless of their tribal origin. The organisation of the army was an essential element of this programme since every able-bodied tribesman was also a soldier during the fighting season, and the structure of the army determined that of society. Immediately upon his accession to supreme authority, Genghis established his Grand Army, based around a decimal structure of tumans of 10,000 men containing mingans of 1,000, composed of squadrons of 100 and sections of 10. Although in some cases the manpower of each unit came from the same tribe, often they would not, and every man was expected to abandon previous tribal rivalries and focus everything on serving Genghis Khan.
Given that Genghis would later become known as a paradigm of murderous ferocity, elements of his social policy were surprisingly enlightened. By 1206, his subjects were drawn from several ethnic groups, including Turks and Tatars along with the Mongol tribes. In the new structure, such differences were ignored as families of varied origins were expected to work together. Religion too was removed as a source of discord: since Buddhism, Islam, Christianity and Manichaeism had all found some converts on the steppe.
Excerpted with permission from
The Khyber Pass: A history of empire and invasion
By Paddy Docherty
Oxford University Press, Karachi
261pp. Rs595
Paddy Docherty is a historian, educated at Brasenose College, Oxford
Khyber Pass II
EXCERPT: Khyber’s legacy
By Muhammad Ismail Khan
BUZKASHI is a traditional sport of Central Asia and Afghanistan. Its players, sitting on horsebacks, aim to move the carcass of a headless goat to the goal. Disorganised and fierce, the game is unique because the total number of its players isn’t fixed and there are times when the players are not even acquainted with their teammates. Spectators jeer at any show of high drama in the ground when the participants are at play.
Paddy Docherty, the author of the book under review, compares the game of buzkashi with the political scenario prevailing in today’s Afghanistan. It is a country which brings together local warlords and strongmen, where it’s difficult to draw a line between supporters and opposition and where the international agencies and donors jeer at the drama.
Docherty’s comparison can also be extended to the history that morphed around the Khyber Pass, for it witnessed a succession of empires, dynasties, and rulers, and the victors of one era were vanquished at the arrival of another. The historical Khyber Pass is part of a great timeline, a timeline that the author shares with his readers. He starts from the birth of Cyrus and concludes with the account of his journey through the Pass.
The Khyber Pass is a 33-kilometre long mountain pass that links Pakistan with Afghanistan. As for the origin of the name ‘Khyber’, according to the locals it dates back to the early seventh century when Hazrat Ali conquered the castle of Khyber outside Madinah. The popular story reveals that Hazrat Ali came to this area and conquered it, and that an Afghan city by the name of Mazar-i-Sharif has a grand blue mosque that is considered to be the shrine of Hazrat Ali. An ancient mosque named Ali Masjid situated on the Khyber Pass is further proof of the story. As of present day, a fort built by the British stands near the Masjid and is said to have held some control of the route.
The British also cemented a road and established a rail road along the Pass. Despite this, even the British couldn’t control the Pass fully. Like rulers before them, they had to leave the region in the end. Paddy’s book is more about the dynasties that passed through the Khyber, rather than the history of the Khyber Pass and its adjoining areas. Had he described the Pass in detail, the reader would have felt more enlightened. Perhaps Docherty’s restriction could be due to the fact that the Khyber Pass stood its place while invaders and visitors changed their courses. After all, his account of the rulers exposes the importance of this route.
The area surrounding the Khyber Pass was ruled by great rulers such as the Darius, Cyrus, and Alexander; dynasties like Kushans, Sassanides, Mauryas, Ghaznivids, Ghorids, and Mughals and even tribes like Scythian and White Huns. The author is at his best when he imagines the passage of troops of an army along the Pass.
Khyber Pass is also connected to the ancient Silk Road and goods, merchandise, thoughts and armies travelled through it. Aryans must have come from the West, travelling towards the East through this path. Moreover, Buddhism moved from the Indian heartland to Afghanistan in the opposite direction. In fact, the city of Peshawar on the border of the Pass derived its name from the Sanskrit word, ‘Purushpura’ meaning ‘the city of flowers.’ Islam entered the area from the West.
In a way, the rich history of Khyber Pass could be extended to the history of the people dwelling around the Pass. The Pakhtoons are an ethnic people who live in the present-day Afghanistan and the North West Frontier Province of Pakistan. There are theories that delineate the origin of Pakhtoons to Israelis, Arabs, Turks, Greeks, and Persians. The Pashas of Frontier are surely Turkish descendants, while the Afridis believe their ancestors were Greek. Likewise, the word Kandahar, a city in Afghanistan, is a distorted form of Gandhara.
Docherty holds the Khyber Pass in high esteem. He calls it one of the two most precious entities of the subcontinent; the other being the Koh-i-Noor, the coveted diamond. Like Koh-i-Noor, Khyber Pass moved from one hand to another; the hands were that of the rulers. It is for this reason that Docherty endorses Khyber Pass to be among the three most important strategic ways in the world, before the advent of the modern air-route — the other two being the Suez Canal and Straits of Gibraltar. Historians value Khyber Pass for its legacy. The region is still in as much turmoil as it was in the past; however, the people of the rugged terrain still stand strong. There is a growing revival in tribalisation brewing in the region post-9/11. In a nutshell, the Pass needs to be given more attention than it currently is.
