The Jewish Nation of Mongols

by Boris Zubry

  “What are you saying?” The President drained a large piala of kumis in one huge gulp. That was good. It helps, and he needed that.

  “We are Jews, Mr. President and we have been Jews ever since the middle of the 13th century. All our ancestry was Jewish, and we have the Jewish blood too. Well, not all but most of us. The pure Mongols do.” Now, the Prime Minister was thirstily drinking kumis. The rest of the people in this semi-modern semi-traditional Mongolian conference room designed for close conferences of the inner circle of the administration were quiet being rooted in the thoughts. These were dense and dark thoughts. What did they think about? Were they thinking of the grandmothers and their Jewish cooking? The matzo balls? The Gifilte fish? The kosher anything? Their grandmothers and even their great grandmothers did not know that they were supposed to cook that and kept cooking the foul-smelling Mongolian stuff and drinking kumis with the meat. Oh, gevolt! Were they bad Jews? Now what? Would they go to hell? They’ve been to hell already with the Russians and the Chinese. And the Japanese added a very twisted twist to it. Could they recover the situation somehow? Who would know what to do? Where to find that one? There were no Jews in Mongolia. Were there? Do we know any? Are they real? Are we really Jews? Us… The Mongols? People in this room were as pure Mongols as they come. What does it mean – Jews?

  “Where did the Jewish blood come from?” The President could not swallow it without a fight. It was too much to swallow, to begin with, and the fight, the resistance, the asking questions, could break it down to the smaller pieces, to the pieces easier to digest. But, even the smallest piece would be too hard to swallow. Those pieces could be multifaceted and sharp and full of hooks. “Do we know anything about that, the Jewish blood? Where did it come from, and how? Why? What do we know about that? Is there anything concrete?”

  “All we know from the text that in 1242 or so, Batu Khan met a woman of the great beauty and married her in a few months after that. After that marriage, he dismissed all concubines. Batu was in love with his bride for the rest of his life. Well, he died soon after she did. She was Jewish, Khazar and of the royal family. We do not know much about her, but she lived with him in the Golden Horde. Somewhere in the 1250s. Then, she went to visit her relatives in Central Asia and died from an unknown sickness. Now, we think that he maybe died of grief and the loneliness. We know that he died in 1255. All that corresponds to what we know quite well. A very tragic story, I may add. We are still working on the dig and the diary. We may find more. Now, that we know this, we should revisit the burials of women of that period. We may find more about here. If she was royal and married to Batu Khan, there should be something somewhere. We just have not linked it yet. We did not know, and now, we have the missing pieces. What a headache. It should be fun for our scientists, but how do we tell them? What about the international, scientific community? We would become the laughing stock. Maybe we should talk to the Israelis? They could find it interesting and help us. Oh, we just went with the Russians on the anti-Semitic spree, and the Israelis were not happy. That was stupid, but we needed the Russians. Another big mistake. We always lose with Russians. Everything related to Russia is a big and costly mistake. We need to think it over and find the excuse to flip and get closer to the Jews. It always works better. They are close to Americans, and the British, and that would work for us very well. That could be very helpful.” The Prime Minister had some more kumis, just to calm the nerves down. It was a sensitive situation, and the President went for the Bourbon. Even at this hour, it was appropriate considering the situation. Time was just irrelevant when it came to stress, and this was stressful. They all were drinking something by now. They were not the drinking bunch but the circumstances, despite the early morning, called for it and they followed the call. That was a very unexpected turn of events. What a mess.

  “What do we know about her? Him? Them? What about their life together? Did we know anything about that before this new document? Subutai was a part of all that. Did he mention anything like that anywhere, at any time? How involved was he? Did they have children?” Everyone looked at the Prime Minister like he was a member of that family and knew all relatives. However, it seemed that he knew more on the subject than the rest of them. Everyone, but the President, were briefed before this meeting but the Prime Minister either understood it better or knew more. It was always like that.

  “We don’t know much about her. Almost nothing. Not yet, but we know they had children. The known surviving descendants of Batu Khan were from her. We do not know of any children before her. Most likely, he had some girls, and that is why it was not listed anywhere. Considering the size of our nation and the number of years passed, we are all related in one way or another and, therefore, she was one of our ancestors. Of most of us. It sounds as we all Jews to some degree due to her participation. No, we are not full-blooded Jews, but who knows what happened after that. There could be more Jews in our bloodlines. Don’t forget the Khazars and how close all khans were to them. Most likely every khan had a Khazar wife or two and so did the average Mongols. It looks like the Jews were the integrated part of the Mongolian nation for centuries, and we all carry their genes. Of course, some of us have more of it and some less, but we have it, and this document confirms and guarantees it. We have Jewish blood."

  The President noticed some heads going up and down in total agreement. He also noticed that they had a drink or two already and it was still too early for that. It was too early for anything. He rarely drank before five in the evening, but kumis did not count. It was just milk, well, fermented, but still, milk. One could drink milk for breakfast. They all were knowledgeable people and clearly understood the consequences of this discovery. This was very serious. No one wanted to be a Jew, not willingly. It was like a widely expressed but so unpopular opinion. Well, the Christians and the Christian monks did an outstanding job of it. They made the Jews the evil shifting the blame of their own evilness. They were spinning the fairytale into a new religion, so the scapegoat was needed to support the tale. That’s where the Jews were made to play the role of a villain. Now, if you were a Jew, no one wanted to join you, and everyone had something against you. After all, you were evil. No one knows why, but that was a millennia-old notion. Oh, God, what have we done? What have we done? We are the Mongols and not the Jews. We have been that way for as long if not longer than the Jews were Jews. The President caught himself, almost saying that. Was he turning into a Jew already? That was scary. He may need another drink.

  “But, we know something? What?”

  “Well, there is a theory. Only a theory yet. You may remember back in the early seventies the Russians were digging somewhere around the Karakorum and found a burial of a woman. It was a very rich burial, and the Russians thought that it was a burial of a Bedouin Chieftain wife or a daughter. Yet, it was too rich and at the same time well hidden from the simple people. It did not really fit the pattern, but still, the theory was accepted. The Afghans claimed the find and the exquisite jewelry and decorations were moved to Kabul and being kept there. The Afghans did their best to protect this treasure; the gold and the precious stones survived the Taliban. Do you recall how they were hiding it together with the paintings and some artifacts behind the false wall in the National Museum? They actually fooled the Taliban. It was the national treasure, and some people risked their lives to guard it. Well, some people died. There was a story of the false wall and a secret room with no entrance constructed in the museum basically overnight and the most important artifacts hidden behind it. They put the precious stuff in and sealed the wall. No one knew it but a few trusted people that guarded it with their lives. There were numerous paintings and some historically and culturally important stuff. All behind the false wall. The Taliban had no idea. That’s how the Afghans protected whatever they could protect and save. Good people. Brave people. Gutsy move. Very heroic. Being arrogant and not well educated, the Muslim fanatics never knew about missing it and many other things. They did not eve
n know that those things existed. Taliban and the Mullahs were not really into art, science or even the museum going. Fortunate for the world, they were and still are uneducated idiots. That’s the religious fanatism for you. Do you recall that story? I was fascinated by it.”

  “So, do you think she was the one? Was there anything in that jewelry to support that?” The President looked tired and uncertain. He was unshaven, restless, and wanted to go to sleep and maybe to eat something light. He sized the sandwiches on the side table and turned away. No, he could not eat, not now. Food was nauseating him. Just an hour ago, he was so well groomed and upbeat. What had happened to change him so much? Whatever happened to the President happened to the other people in the room as well. Something dark was laying on their shoulders so heavily. They all looked tired, used up, beaten down and somewhat older now. It was not easy to digest that information. No one there wanted to be a Jew. Why should they? It was so hard to accept. In Mongolia… It was like in the children game of the Cowboys and Indians - no one wanted to be an Indian. The Indians were going to lose anyway and who wanted to be a loser. Be a cowboy and win! That’s the ticket. The cavalry would save soon enough you if you were in trouble. That’s what they did. They would come in the end. They waited for you to get in trouble and then, they came and killed everyone around but you. So, everyone pretended that Indians just left or were coming soon. That worked and well. Then, no one had to be the one. Why was it? Was there a real reason for that or just a perception? How did the Jews get into it? Batu Khan, the conqueror of Europe and Subutai – a warlord known for his thirst for blood, actually was not what we thought they were. In truth, they were just the neighborhood Jews.

  A servant that doubled as a security officer cautiously opened the door. There was somewhat unusually quiet in the room, and he wanted to see if anyone wanted anything. He had to know what was going on and then, to report if needed. That was his other job. The kitchen was open, and he could make anything the leaders would require. They had all kinds of food in the kitchen, and he was a good cook, but there was a professional cook as well. That department was always staffed well. Did they want anything? Was there anything at all? He saw the dark, tired faces and felt the tension that could be cut with a Mongolian sword so shrewdly displayed on the walls. In short, it was quite gloomy in the most significant conference room of the Mongolian capital. This was the place where the utmost important leaders of the country made the decisions on what to do and what not. Often, they made no decisions, but the room was still significant. Making decisions was not necessary for the room, but the room was essential for making decisions. This time, for the first time, the servant saw the indecision, the confusion, the shock, and the scare. Were they scared of something? He did not know what and was afraid to find out. His time to know will come soon enough. Thus, he just slowly closed the door, trying not to disturb anyone even with the slightest clatter. Something massive was going on, and he better stayed away from it.

  “The scroll mentions her name – Ratchel from the House of Kogan. As far as we know, they were rich and powerful. That family had the royal blood of the Khazar Kings and lived in the area of Buchara. Probably it was inside the city walls. Still, there were some Jewish settlements outside the city walls, all around. We are not too sure. It is hard to say for sure. But, it sounds that they were well-to-do people and probably lived in the city. Rachel and Batu had four children: Boruch, Hannah, Adel, and Haim. These are the prominent Jewish names. Also, we know that after Ratchel died, in a few years, Batu sent the children with 100 slaves and 100 soldiers from his personal guard to Buchara to stay with Ratchel’s family. They carried a substantial treasure with them to be spent on the children. The house of Kogan agreed to take the children and be responsible for them for as long as it took. Batu Khan died approximately within a year after that, and we know that he had four legitimate children and many that he never acknowledged. That is all we know, but again, this is very new information, and we did not have enough time to check thousands of other documents and references that may bring some light on the subject. I am sure we can find more and more if we look. Then, we could connect the dots, the information. Now that we know this, we can put the pieces together. It would be hard, but possible. It is not the hardest project we ever had. Fascinating story – so old and so new somehow. What do you want us to do? We can dig deeper and find all we can, or we can bury all of it before it became known. I do not know. I am not sure either way. What a headache.” The Prime Minister looked around the room searching for answers from his comrades in responsibilities. No one spoke. No one knew. No one wanted that responsibility. It was too much to carry around, but one could not put it down. Whatever the President decided they would push forward or not if there were a choice. They could criticize the decision but quietly.

  “Keep it top secret for now. I want a complete media blackout for now. And… Dig deeper. We want to know everything. We may need it one day no matter what the decision is. If we must go that way, we may have to change the name of our nation. We may become the Jewish Nation of Mongols or the Mongolian Nation of the Jews. This is big. Bigger than big. Gigantic. I would say, it’s of the biblical proportions. I never read the Bible, but it sounds that way. This is too wild to comprehend. This is a mess of the Biblical proportion. That’s for sure. We need time. We may need a lot of time. We have to think it through and very carefully. What a mess, what a mess…” The President got up and left the room limping. Oh, that dog Batu Khan.

  President Vagabundi

  Some time passed slowly by. Well, it passed slowly by for some and went like a rocket for the others. It was always like that with time. Tick-tack; tick-tack…And it's gone. Time was time, and no one knew what it had on its mind, even at the time. It did what it wanted, and all we could do was to comment on it. Did anyone listen to our complaints? That’s a big question. That’s a big issue. Who was there to listen? Then, what’s the point to complain. Whom are you going to complain? What do you think will change? What do you want to change? For President Vagabundi time passed by like the fastest missile, ultra-ultra-sonic. It did not even slow down to say “HI” or “GOODBY.” Maybe time did not have time for foolishness like that. “HI” - “GOODBY,” so what? The President worked, and he played with all the concubines and a few more. That’s what he had time for. He fought with the wife and her mother, and he held the country together and somewhat prospering. Yes, we have to give it to him, the country was prospering. Often, he felt like a great juggler capable of working with a hundred different balls, big and small, going up and down. Yet, sometimes, it was too fast even for him. He could throw them up, catch them and hurl them again without missing one or dropping one on the floor. Well, of course, he missed but not too often. Anyone could miss once in a while so, he did it too but never in a big way. Not much of it was even noticed. That’s what he thought, no, that’s what he knew. He was good and all-powerful. And, despite all that, the economy of the country kept going up but mostly down. There were days and even weeks when something was pushing it up and quite high, but then, a crash and they were again back to the square one. The economy needed a strong shoulder to lean on, but the shoulder was not there, not in the play. The great Mongolian steppes were hastily filling up with more and more people preferring the old nomadic ways to live in apartments and work at the factory. They did not care about the money much. Money meant very little in the steppes and did not nest at the factory. Money traveled the Silk Road and rested in the steppes. Horses, camels, sheep, and knowledge of the steppes were more important than anything else there. When one was hungry, he could hunt the wild game or butcher an animal from the herd. One could always exchange with a farmer whatever he had, a sheep or a horse, for the bags and bags of vegetables, fruit, and grain. Barter was coming back as the way of life, but the country could not live like that, not today. It was sliding back to the time before time, and that was dangerous. Where would it stop? You could become weak, and the strong would come alone and
conquer you. They knew it too well. It happened before and way too often. The country needed the money, and the factories failed to produce it. The factories failed to materialize. Without the Soviet support, the industry was no more, and the small shops with individual craftsmen could not feed the country. That was not enough, and more had to be done. Things like foreign investments, natural resources, big projects, and an army of professionals had to be infused into the present social order. But how? Who could put all that together and produce the results? The President did not know anyone who even could think in those categories. Was Mongolia empty of this kind of brains? Was there a knowledge void of some sort? They had them before – the Great Khans, great accomplishments. Did all of them leave the country? How to get them back? How to attract the right people and make it work? What to offer? What would it take? Just a few days ago, he spoke over the phone with the President of Uzbekistan and a few days before that, with the President of Kazakhstan. All three were friends ever since the University. They attended the same Alma Mater (the University of Tashkent) and at the same time and were the original three musketeers razing hell every chance they got. Later, one became a doctor, another – an engineer, and the third one joined the security apparatus of his respected country. All three came from the political class and eventually, went back to be a part of the political class. That’s where the power was. With time, they ran up the ladder and took place right on the top. Now, they were the political class, and they controlled it. They became the Presidents but still, very close friends. Now, they were planning a fishing trip together and were discussing the best place for that. It would be nice to go away, just three of them, no wives but maybe the girlfriends. It was not an easy arrangement but something to think about. After all, they were the Presidents, but, in Central Asia, they could control the media as anything else. In short, they were the Khans. The media was a part of the government and worked for them anyway. And wives? Wives were raised in Central Asia and knew the ways of life there. No one had an open harem any longer, but, it was still there, behind the closed doors, somewhere. The discussion of the fishing trip turned into a discussion of the economy and the current events. They were close friends and were quite open discussing many things. The real state of affairs was one of many of those things. Yes, it was the same in every country. After the Russians left, things started to fall apart and fast. It was almost like the Roman Empire after the Roman Empire seized to exist and to enforce the rule through power. No, it was not the medieval period, but it was not the renaissance either. Everyone was going back to where they thought they came from. Every nation was trying to reinvent itself and go back to the roots but, so much changed and no one knew the roots anymore. What were the real roots? How was it really, not the movie version, not what the grandmothers told them. So, they did whatever they thought was the roots and the customs. The tribe leaders and the local rulers have emerged, and the nomad life was more and more attractive with every passing day. Work a little, play a little and rest a lot. It was becoming universal. Many went to Russia to make a living because that’s where the factories were, and some of them still work. They worked anywhere where the cheap labor was needed, but the locals hated them so much. The locals needed jobs as well. That is why crime against the migrants was high, and the laws did not protect them much. “Migrants, Go Home!” was the common slogan just about everywhere but the home was far and not offering much. They would love to go back home, to the families, to what they loved, but they needed jobs, the way to earn a living. If only something changes at home. Money was the name of the game so, with no money, nothing was going for them. It was tough, but the leaders had no answers, not yet. Maybe they were working on that. However, even the most corrupt leaders heard the stories and had the feeling and wanted to help the less fortunate, especially if they were your own. Everyone deserved a good break, and why not. Now, was the time. It was becoming crucial by the minute. After all, in such a small country with so closely knitted society, even the lowest laborer could be your cousin.