Almost seems like history repeats itself over and over again. First it was Mongol hoards then Brits and now Yanks.
http://www.dawn.com/2003/04/17/op.htm
The conflict has just begun
By M.J. Akbar
When in February, 1258 the killing had stopped and the looting had paused, Hulagu, grandson of the creator of the world’s prevailing superpower Chengiz Khan, and the destroyer of the 37-Caliph Abbasid dynasty, asked the Iraqi ulema, or religious heads, a simple question: “Which man is better as a sovereign? An unbeliever who is just, or a Muslim who is unjust?”
The question is not substantially different from the one posed to the people of Iraq by George Bush, son of the victor of the first Gulf war and undisputed leader of the prevailing superpower. The 13th century clerics were silent until one of the sages in their midst, Radiuddin Ali, accepted new realities and wrote down the collective answer: “The unbeliever who is just should be preferred to the unjust believer.”
It would be convenient to report that this is where the matter ended. But there was more than one answer given by the Arabs, and delivered over time. Not one of these responses ever suggested that the deposed and killed last Abbasid Caliph Mustaffim be restored to the palaces of Baghdad. That era was dead, killed by its own excesses and buried by the Mongol avalanche, and the Arabs recognized it. But to reject the Abbasids was not synonymous with accepting the Mongols.
The Mongols promised that the new regime in Baghdad would be run by Iraqis, not by them. They too established the difference between control and administration. The former lay with Hulagu and his generals. The latter was left to the Iraqis. Hulagu retained Ibn Alkamiya as the vizier, or the prime minister, who had served the last Caliph. Till today Arab schoolchildren are taught the sentence: “Cursed by God be he who curses not Ibn Alkamiya.”
Hulagu’s armies were not without Muslims in their ranks when he marched on Baghdad, although they were not too many. His few Muslim supporters were Shias, not Kurds: Kurds then had total empathy with the fellow Sunni Arabs, for the ruling dynasty of Saladin was indeed Kurdish. Some of the Muslim support for Hulagu was destroyed by guilt, as was the case of Teghel Argun who slipped away from the Mongol ranks after witnessing the destruction of Baghdad. He was later captured by the Mongols and put to death in the marketplace of Tabriz.
Many of the regional Muslim lords became submissive to the new power. Azizuddin Kavus offered Hulagu a magnificent pair of leather boots as a gift. He also had his own portrait drawn on the boots so that Hulagu could have him permanently at his feet.
Yet others tried craft. The old and wily Badruddin Lulu of Mosul, on being summoned to Hulagu’s presence, promised his terrified followers that he would emerge with his honour intact. In fact, he suggested, he would not return before he had gone so far as to tweak Hulagu’s ears! He lived up to his promise. He offered Hulagu a magnificent pair of rare pearls and then asked for the honour of placing them on the conqueror’s ears. He was granted permission to do so. He tweaked Hulagu’s ears when putting on the earrings, and glanced at his entourage while doing so to indicate that he had kept his promise.
But there were also those who responded to the deepest crisis in the history of Islam by discovering conviction, and then the courage to stand up against a power that since Chengiz Khan had never been defeated between the eastern shores of China to the doors of western Europe beyond Russia, and now to the heart of the Muslim world in Baghdad.
Then, as now, the fall of Baghdad opened the way to Damascus and Syria. Then, as now, the temptation seemed irresistible. Nassir, sultan of Damascus, played for time, sending his son to Hulagu with the excuse that he could not come personally because he feared that in his absence the Crusaders would march on Damascus. Hulagu was unimpressed by the explanation.
He sent Nassir a message, the essence of which was: “Know that we are God’s army on earth.” He, like others after him, saw his conquest as a moral purpose. “Those who oppose us must flee, and we must hunt them… Resist, and face annihilation. Accept, and find safety. Accept our law, so that our laws can be common… Answer quickly, or your country will be turned into a desert.”
Nassir’s reply was braver than the strength of his forces warranted. He said, “Resistance to you is obedience to God… If we slay you, our prayers have been answered. If you slay us, we go to Paradise.”
Hulagu had no desire to come in between Nassir and Paradise. On September 12, 1259, some 19 months after the destruction of Baghdad, he marched into Syria. The story began on a familiar note, with the successive destruction of cities culminating in the annihilation of Aleppo in January 1260. Nassir, betrayed and depressed, abandoned Damascus, but remained in the field. This was sufficient, for behind him a resurrection was taking place, inspired by a Turkish slave regiment of the Egyptian armies, called the Mamelukes.
This regiment had picked up the Egyptian battle standard at the point of collapse and defeat against the Crusaders, reversed the western tide, re-established the confidence of Cairo, and was now ready to face, under the leadership of a great general like Baibers, towards the threat from the east. Hulagu was marching not merely through territory; he was also trampling through the shifting sands of Arab politics and faith.
Aleppo was his last victory. Most interestingly, he was interrupted by an election.
He got news that Mangu, the Great Khan and overlord of the Mongols, had died. He turned towards home to establish his own claim in the Ordu, a gathering where family and chiefs elected the successor by consensus. At Tabriz Hulagu learnt that his brother Kublai Khan had already been named the successor. He halted. But in that respite, equations had changed. The Mongol general he had left in charge, Kita Buga, had moved towards Palestine to take Jerusalem from the Muslims.
But on September 3, 1260, at Ain Jalut, near Nablus in Palestine, the Egyptians delivered a crushing blow on the Mongols, shattering their armies and demolishing their myth of invincibility. Damascus was retaken, and the Mongols pursued and scattered from Arab territories. But the war was not over. Hulagu would not accept defeat. But neither, now, would the Arabs. The defence of El Biret in Syria in the winter of 1264 is part of the romance of Arab history: significantly, the women proved themselves more courageous than the men.
In another fascinating twist, Hulagu’s brother, Berkai, leader of the Mongols in Russia, suddenly announced in an open letter that he and his four brothers had converted to Islam. He charged Hulagu with the destruction of Baghdad and in cooperation with Baibers, he sent an army under Nogai, through the Caucasus, which defeated Hulagu on January 13, 1263. Hulagu spent his last days in Persia until he died on February 8, 1265, at the age of 48.
History, of course, does not repeat itself. There may be parallels, but nothing is ever a replica. Saddam is far less than the last of the Abbasids, and the Arabs do not seem to be in any condition to find a Baibers, let alone a Berkai. (It would need Putin to intervene decisively in the region for the parallel to start working.)
It would be a mistake to romanticize the decline and disappearance of Saddam Hussein. He was more clever than powerful. He exploited Arab anger against neo-colonialism (oil and nationalism are virtually synonymous in the Arab world). But Saddam, being a tyrant, was a problem rather than a solution. The consequences are familiar to those who read history. A crisis has eliminated the pretender, and the future waits to see who will fill this vacuum.
The Americans want this space to be occupied by a favourite like Ahmad Chalabi. But all they will succeed in doing is setting up an administration. There is a difference between administration and control. A figurehead may sit in Baghdad, but George Bush will be in power. This was precisely the situation after the First World War, when a British-Indian army ‘liberated’ Iraq from the Ottomans and imposed first direct, and then indirect rule. The British foreign secretary in 1918, Sir Arthur Balfour, was not concerned about niceties. He said: “I do not care under what system we keep the oil. But I am quite clear that it is all-important for us that this oil should be available.”
Iraqi nationalism, supported by Arab anger, will also seek to fill that vacuum.
A second mistake is also being made by the victors. Attempts to divide and rule have begun. In India it was Hindus and Muslims; in Iraq it will be Shias and Sunnis and Kurds. The Kurds want this division because they have been offered the dream of independence; but a Shia-Sunni divide will not be equally simple.
The story of Sheikh Abdel Majid al-Khoei may not be definitive, but it is a marker. The 50-year-old Shia cleric, head of the London-based Khoei Foundation and well respected in his community, was despatched by the British to Najaf to generate the support for the invasion that seemed to be strangely missing in Basra and Karbala and Najaf and Umm Qasr. On Monday, April 7, Sheikh Majid called upon Shias to support the Americans and the British. On Tuesday he suggested neutrality. On Thursday he was killed in the Imam Ali mosque. Tony Blair sent a message of condolence.
The writer is editor-in-chief of Asian Age based in New Delhi.