Note 42 — Chapter VIII · THE SPREAD OF ISLAM AMONG THE MONGOLS AND TATARS.

The details that we possess of the progress of Islam in the Middle Kingdom, which fell to the lot of Chag͟hatāy and his descendants, are still more meagre. Several of the princes of this line had a Muhammadan minister in their service, but they showed themselves unsympathetic to the faith of Islam. Chag͟hatāy harassed his Muhammadan subjects by regulations that restricted their ritual observances in respect of the killing of animals for food and of ceremonial washings. Al-Jūzjānī says that he was the bitterest enemy of the Muslims among all the Mongol rulers and did not wish any one to utter the word Musalman before him except with evil purpose.42 Org͟hana, the wife of his grandson and successor, Qarā-Hūlāgū, brought up her son as a Musalman, and under the name of Mubārak Shāh he came forward in 1264 as one of the claimants of the disputed succession to the Chag͟hatāy K͟hānate; but he was soon driven from the throne by his cousin Burāq K͟hān, and appears to have exercised no influence on behalf of his faith, indeed judging from their names it would not appear that any of his own children even adopted the religion of their father.43 Burāq K͟hān is said to have “had the blessedness of receiving the light of the faith” a few days before his death in 1270, and to have taken the name of Sulṭān G͟hiyāt͟h al-Dīn,44 but he was buried according to the ancient funeral rites of the Mongols, and not as a Musalman, and those who had been converted during his reign relapsed into their former heathenism. It was not until the next century that the conversion of Ṭarmāshīrīn K͟hān, about 1326, caused Islam to be at all generally adopted by the Chag͟hatāy Mongols, who when they followed the example of their chief this time remained true to their new faith. But even now the ascendancy of Islam was not assured, for Būzun who was K͟hān in the next decade—the chronology is uncertain—drove Ṭarmāshīrīn from his throne, and persecuted the Muslims,45 and it was not until some years later that we hear of the first Musalman king of Kāshgar, which the break-up of the Chag͟hatāy dynasty had erected into a separate kingdom. This prince, Tūqluq Tīmūr K͟hān (1347–1363), is said to have owed his conversion to a holy man from Buk͟hārā, by name Shayk͟h Jamāl al-Dīn. This Shayk͟h, in company with a number of travellers, had unwittingly trespassed on the game-preserves of the prince, who ordered them to be bound hand and foot and brought before him. In reply to his angry question, how they had dared interfere with his hunting, the Shayk͟h pleaded that they were strangers and were quite unaware that they were trespassing on forbidden ground. Learning that they were Persians, the prince said that a dog was worth more than a Persian. “Yes,” replied the Shayk͟h, “if we had not the true faith, we should indeed be worse than the dogs.” Struck with his reply, the K͟hān ordered this bold Persian to be brought before him on his return from hunting, and taking him aside asked him to explain what he meant by these words and what was “faith.” The Shayk͟h then set before him the doctrines of Islam with such fervour and zeal that the heart of the K͟hān that before had been hard as a stone was melted like wax, and so terrible a picture did the holy man draw of the state of unbelief, that the prince was convinced of the blindness of his own errors, but said, “Were I now to make profession of the faith of Islam, I should not be able to lead my subjects into the true path. But bear with me a little; and when I have entered into the possession of the kingdom of my forefathers, come to me again.” For the empire of Chag͟hatāy had by this time been broken up into a number of petty princedoms, and it was many years before Tūqluq Tīmūr succeeded in uniting under his sway the whole empire as before. Meanwhile Shayk͟h Jamāl al-Dīn had returned to his home, where he fell dangerously ill: when at the point of death, he said to his son Rashīd al-Dīn, “Tūqluq Tīmūr will one day become a great monarch; fail not to go and salute him in my name and fearlessly remind him of the promise he made me.” Some years later, when Tūqluq Tīmūr had re-won the empire of his fathers, Rashīd al-Dīn made his way to the camp of the K͟hān to fulfil the last wishes of his father, but in spite of all his efforts he could not gain an audience of the K͟hān. At length he devised the following expedient: one day in the early morning, he began to chant the call to prayers, close to the K͟hān’s tent. Enraged at having his slumbers disturbed in this way, the prince ordered him to be brought into his presence, whereupon Rashīd al-Dīn delivered his father’s message. Tūqluq K͟hān was not unmindful of his promise, and said: “Ever since I ascended the throne I have had it on my mind that I made that promise, but the person to whom I gave the pledge never came. Now you are welcome.” He then repeated the profession of faith and became a Muslim. “On that morn the sun of bounty rose out of the east of divine favour and effaced the dark night of unbelief.… They then decided that for the propagation of Islam they should interview the princes one by one, and it should be well for those who accepted the faith, but those who refused should be slain as heathens and idolaters.” The first to be examined was a noble named Amīr Tūlik. The K͟hān asked him, “Will you embrace Islam?” Amīr Tūlik burst into tears and said: “Three years ago I was converted by some holy men at Kāshgar and became a Musalman, but from fear of you I did not openly declare it.” Then Tūqluq K͟hān rose up and embraced him, and the three sat down again together. In this manner they examined the princes one by one, and they all accepted Islam, with the exception of one named Jarās, who suggested a trial of strength between the Shayk͟h and his servant, an infidel who was above the ordinary stature of man and so strong that he could lift a two-year-old camel. The Shayk͟h accepted the challenge, saying: “If I do not throw him, I will not require you to become a Musalman. If it is God’s wish that the Mongols become honoured with the blessed state of Islam, He will doubtless give me sufficient power to overcome this man.” Tūqluq K͟hān and those who had become Musalmans with him tried to dissuade the holy man, but he persisted in his purpose. “A large crowd assembled, the infidel was brought in, and he and the Shayk͟h advanced towards one another. The infidel, proud of his own strength, advanced with a conceited air. The Shayk͟h looked very small and weak beside him. When they came to blows, the Shayk͟h struck the infidel full in the chest, and he fell senseless. After a little he came to again, and having raised himself, fell again at the feet of the Shayk͟h, crying out and uttering words of belief. The people raised loud shouts of applause, and on that day 160,000 persons cut off the hair of their heads and became Musalmans. The K͟hān was circumcised, and the lights of Islam dispelled the shades of unbelief.” From that time Islam became the established faith in the settled countries under the rule of the descendants of Chag͟hatāy.46 But many of the nomad Mongols appear to have remained outside the pale of Islam up to the early part of the fifteenth century, judging from the violent methods adopted for their conversion by Muḥammad K͟hān, who was K͟hān of Mug͟halistān47 about 1416. “Muḥammad K͟hān was a wealthy prince and a good Musalman. He persisted in following the road of justice and equity, and was so unremitting in his exertions, that during his blessed reign most of the tribes of the Mongols became Musalmans. It is well known what severe measures he had recourse to, in bringing the Mongols to be believers in Islam. If, for instance, a Mongol did not wear a turban, a horseshoe nail was driven into his head: and treatment of this kind was common. May God recompense him with good.”48