Tamerlane - Justin Marozzi

To kick the blog off, given all the kerfuffle about the Middle East, I thought it might be a little useful to pull an Islamic Conqueror from History and Justin Marozzi's book is a superb beginning.

From his birth in about 1336 to his death in 1405, Temur Gurgan carved an empire that was fully the equal of Alexander the Great or his ilustrious predecessor, Genghis Khan, with one minor difference. Temur was a Muslim where one had been a polytheist and the other a believer in the shamanistic rituals of the steppe, but it would be fair to say that for all his protestations he was only Muslim when it suited him: he was just as ready to accept astrology and shamanistic approval as that of Allah. Indeed it was hard to tell whether he ascribed to the Shia or Sunni creed as he seemed perfectly willing to slaughter either or both to get what he wanted. This formed the major bone of contention within the Dar-al-Islam of his times since he never truely renounced his steppe origins. Ironically enough for a man described as the Sword of Islam it seems that his main claim to fame in history was his willingness to use the sword to part Islamic heads from Islamic bodies....

But his achievements were remarkable even given the bloodiness of them, and in this Marozzi gives the most well-rounded and perfect appreciation - here is a warrior who made great inroads into India (which Alexander never did) and was heading for a campaign in China at his death (which Genghis never attempted). The Middle East and the former USSR was his stamping ground and this warmaster stamped as hard and as often as he could - the tiny Christian kingdom of Georgia was raided, sacked and occupied no fewer than 8 times.

Marozzi does not dwell solely on military achievements however, and in this is the real strength of this work. Temur is portrayed as a shrewd, cautious man who could take dazzling chances when he had to but knew full well the power of preperation. Not for him the headlong blind charge but the steady measurement and assessment before rapid action. It also reveals why a conqueror who swept aside rival Islamic potentates like so much confetti never bothered with Europe but instead cultivated diplomatic and trading links with it.

The contrast with the glories of Temur's Empire and the gaggle of current post-Soviet republics is a cruel one and does much to illustrate the ravages of time; yet at points this threatens to overwhelm the core of the book to the detriment of the whole which is a shame. There were moments when I was stuck by the Aral Sea in modern times and the next was on some wind-swept hillside outside Damascus a good six hundred years earlier. Most confusing for a moment and the main area where this lost marks for me.

But don't let this put you off too much; for a portrait of a savage but smart conqueror, this book is hard to refuse.

8 out of 10