The Elite

by Ranulph Fiennes

  There is no evidence that Hasan or his Ismailis did actually take drugs of any kind. Modern historians believe that such was their devotion to their religion, and such was the precise nature of their kills, that it was very unlikely. In his book The Assassins, author Bernard Lewis believes that ‘Hashishi’ was a Sunni invention designed to denigrate Hasan and his followers. However, if anything, it appears it did quite the opposite. As the Assassins’ legend grew, more followers flocked to the Ismaili cause, bewitched by its leader and the group’s mystique.

  While Hasan Sabbah died on 12 June 1124, the Ismaili Assassins fought on and flourished. Spreading as far as Syria the sect was later led by Rashid al-Din as-Sinan, who would become known as ‘Old Man of the Mountains’. Sinan was similar to Hasan in a lot of respects; hypnotic, erudite, charming and highly intelligent, to many he was viewed as a god. Indeed, it was said that he would encourage this by using ‘magical’ tricks such as telepathy and clairvoyance.

  His biographer, Kamal al-Din, describes him as ‘an outstanding man, of secret devices, vast designs and great jugglery, with power to incite and mislead hearts, to hide secrets, outwit enemies and to use the vile and the foolish for his evil purposes’. The fact that he spoke little, and never ate in public, also gave him a superhuman quality in the eyes of his followers.

  With a growing community of 60,000 followers, Sinan based himself in an impenetrable fortress known as Masyaf, where he watched with growing concern the Holy Land being invaded by Christian Crusaders. While this was a significant threat to the Ismaili way of life, it was the Sunni response to the Crusaders that seriously alarmed him.

  As we have already seen, Saladin the Great was a fanatical Sunni who had changed the religion from Shiite to Sunni in Egypt, while he was also on the verge of uniting all the other Muslim states between Cairo and Aleppo. This would give him enormous power, which Sinan knew could seriously threaten Ismailism. As such, in 1175, Sinan placed Saladin as the number one target on his hit list.

  With their methods now finely honed and tested, the Ismailis immediately went to work. Intelligence was always crucial and, as such, Sinan followed Hasan’s lead and sent missionaries into Saladin’s network, aiming to recruit more followers and glean from them what he could about his movements. But this proved to be frustrating. It appeared that Saladin was always surrounded by a close protection team. If they were to kill Saladin, they would need to take them out first. Still, Sinan gave the go-ahead for the mission to proceed.

  Just weeks later, Sinan’s men looked to strike as Saladin relaxed in his tent. But they were rumbled when a local emir raised the alarm. While the men tried to fight their way to Saladin’s tent, they were soon struck down by his bodyguard. Saladin not only survived the attempt on his life, but was now aware the Ismailis were after him. This made the Ismailis’ task ever more difficult, as Saladin now wore body armour twenty-four hours a day.

  This forced Sinan to reassess his approach. While he realised that Saladin was prepared for his men, there was not yet any real urgency to kill him. He could afford to bide his time and wait for Saladin’s guard to go down. To this end, he inserted a sleeper cell into Saladin’s inner circle.

  Almost two years passed before Sinan decided to strike again. With one of his agents now acting as Saladin’s bodyguard, he gave the signal for the assassination to take place. However, it was again doomed to failure, with Saladin’s body armour saving him.

  Having survived two assassination attempts, Saladin decided not to take his chances and wait for a third. Marching with his huge army he lay siege to Sinan’s castle at Masyaf and refused to leave until Sinan and his followers died of either starvation or disease.

  There appeared to be no escape for Sinan. Outmanoeuvred, he knew that even killing Saladin would not be enough to extinguish the Sunni threat. All he could hope for was to somehow persuade Saladin to order his army away.

  Kamal al-Din believes that Sinan, or one of his men, somehow infiltrated Saladin’s camp and left a note in his tent, along with the Assassins’ calling card – the dagger. The note apparently read: ‘Death holds no fear for the fida’iyin. I will defeat you from within your own ranks.’ This made it clear to Saladin that even if he killed Sinan and his men, they not only embraced death, but their followers would continue to hunt him down. What’s more, the note proved that they could get close to him. Faced with this threat, Saladin agreed to speak to the Ismailis, which was just what Sinan had hoped for.

  An emissary was subsequently sent from Masyaf to meet with Saladin in his tent, where the Sunni leader was surrounded by a fleet of bodyguards. At the meeting the emissary told Saladin he had a private message for him. At this Saladin sent out most of his entourage but still kept his two most trusted bodyguards by his side. Once again, the emissary told Saladin that the message was for his ears only. Saladin replied that he trusted his two bodyguards like sons and whatever the emissary wanted to tell him he could also tell them. At this the emissary turned to the bodyguards and said, ‘If I ordered you in the name of my master to kill this sultan, would you do so?’ Suddenly they pulled out their blades and aimed them at Saladin’s neck, saying, ‘Command us as you wish.’ Saladin was shocked. His most trusted bodyguards had been Assassins all this time, the very sleeper agents Sinan had planted in his organisation years before.

  The emissary had made his point. If trusted men such as these could be Assassins, then Saladin could trust nobody. Saladin immediately lifted the siege and Sinan’s Assassins were free, with Saladin knowing that should he ever strike back there could be Assassins lurking in his entourage ready to slit his throat. But the Assassins’ triumph was short-lived. They still had to face the major force in the Middle East – the Christian Crusaders. With this, they eyed the assassination of the next king of Jerusalem, Conrad of Montferrat.

  While religion was motivation enough for Sinan to kill Conrad, the actual reasons are unknown. Some claim that Conrad had captured an Assassin ship, killing the captain, imprisoning the crew and stripping the vessel of its treasure. When Sinan requested that the ship’s crew and treasure be returned, he was rebuffed, and so a death sentence was issued. However, other reports claim it was a message to the Crusades, while some even believe it was a favour to Saladin, to whom Sinan had apparently grown close.

  Whatever the reasons, by 1191, Conrad of Montferrat was a powerful and dynamic figure. In keeping with the tried and tested methods of the Assassins, Sinan inserted a sleeper cell into Tyre to watch his every move. His men learnt that Conrad enjoyed converting Muslims into Christians, so transformed themselves into Christian converts, taking on the identity of monks. Biding their time, they slowly ingratiated themselves with Conrad and his followers. But when news reached Sinan that Conrad had been elected the next Crusader king he could wait no longer.

  As such, on 28 April 1192, as Conrad approached the two friendly monks in the alleyway he greeted them with a smile. Seconds later he was lying in a pool of blood as they stabbed him again and again. This was by far the most high-profile assassination of the Crusader age and its impact reverberated across the Christian world.

  The poet Ambroise wrote of the assassination:

  Two youths clad, who wore no cloaks, and each a dagger bore, Made straight for him, and with one bound, Smote him and bore him to the ground, And each one stabbed him with his blade, The wretches, who thus wise betrayed Him, were of the Assassin’s men.

  Within a year of his greatest triumph, Sinan was dead, yet the Ismaili faith, and his band of Assassins, continued to be the scourge of Sunnis, as well as Christian Crusaders.

  There can be no doubt that the Nizari Ismailis were one of the most dangerous elite units the world has ever seen. Political assassinations have always been a prominent part of history, but the Assassins were one of the first special units to make it their modus operandi and they have become the poster children for terrorist groups all over the world, particularly through their unique brand of psychological warfare.

&n
bsp; However, the Assassins were wiped out in the thirteenth century by an invading horde, who destroyed their castle at Alamut, and along with it many of their libraries and literature, which has made it difficult for historians to truly know their full story. Their conquerors were known as the Mongols, and, while religion and ambition appeared to have been the goal for conquests in Europe and the Middle East, it seemed the Mongols raped and pillaged countries just for the sheer pleasure of it . . .

  9

  THE MONGOL KHESHIG

  AD 1162

  At its peak, the Mongol Empire was the largest contiguous empire in history, stretching from the Sea of Japan to the Mediterranean Sea and as far as the Carpathian mountains. With more than a million men enrolled in the armies of the khan, the Mongols became determined to conquer the world.

  Unfortunately, just a single text of their exploits survives. The Secret History of the Mongols is therefore what most historians have used as their main source to learn about Genghis Khan, the notorious warlord and founder of the Mongol Empire, as well as his elite units that helped him conquer so many lands. While there is no way to prove the text’s validity, it certainly provides for a thrilling story.

  Born in north central Mongolia, around 1162, Genghis Khan was originally named ‘Temujin’, after a Tatar chieftain that his father, Yesukhei, had captured. Yesukhei was the leader of his tribe and it was expected that Temujin would one day follow in his footsteps. However, during a time of intense tribal warfare there were certainly no great lands or riches on offer. The vast steppe grassland was surrounded by impenetrable forests to the north and inhospitable desert to the south. And the steppe itself was unsuitable for agriculture, meaning the nomads had to rely on pasturing sheep and horses to survive.

  As leader of his tribe, Yesukhei was a man to whom people flocked in order to ask favours or offer service. One such individual was a blacksmith called Jarchigudai. Clutching his infant son, Jelme, he had walked from the dark forest of the taiga, which was their home, and trudged through the snow, just to meet with him. When he found Yesukhei’s camp, the blacksmith sought an audience with the chief, whereupon he offered him his first-born son as his servant. However, with his own son, Temujin, just born Yesukhei feared that his wife could not care properly for two infants. With gratitude, he sent the blacksmith away with the promise that, when Jelme had grown to be a man, Yesukhei would welcome him into his service.

  The blacksmith returned to the forest with his son, and his wife soon gave birth to another boy, but the effort sadly killed her. The blacksmith called the boy Subotai and brought up his two sons alone. Meanwhile, the young Temujin was also soon to lose a parent, and consequently his status and inheritance, when his chieftain father was murdered by members of the rival Tatar tribe.

  Upon hearing of his father’s death, the 10-year-old Temujin tried to claim his position as clan chief but they refused to recognise the young boy’s leadership and ostracised his family. Temujin, his brothers and his mother were subsequently abandoned on the steppe, without even so much as a horse between them. Over the next few years, they lived in abject poverty, with Temujin promising his mother he would one day have his revenge.

  True to his word, Temujin rebuilt his family’s fortunes. Displaying great bravery, tenacity and leadership skills, Temujin began to attract other men and their families to his entourage. By the spring of 1187, he was established as the leader of a small group of followers, families and herds.

  Not forgetting his promise to Temujin’s slain father, the blacksmith travelled to meet him. The Secret History of the Mongols reveals their subsequent conversation:

  ‘Many years ago, I had a son, Jelme, who was born when you were born and grew up when you grew up. When your people were camped at Deligun Hill on the Onan, when you, Temujin, were born, I gave your father a sable blanket to swaddle you in.’ The old man could see from the expression on Temujin’s face that it was the first time he had heard such a tale about his own youth. Every Mongol knew his lineage back at least five generations and could recite it at a moment’s notice. But this, Jarchigudai sensed, Temujin had not known. The old blacksmith went on. ‘When you were an infant, I also gave my son, Jelme, to your father, but since he was just an infant then I kept him with me.’ He paused and looked at Jelme, who, he knew, was eager to join Temujin’s clan. Since boyhood, Jelme had shown neither aptitude nor interest in becoming a blacksmith. Jarchigudai turned back to Temujin. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I have come to keep my promise to your father. Now Jelme is yours, to put on your saddle and open your door.’ Then he gave Temujin his son.

  While Jelme was to join Temujin, his younger brother Subotai was to return home and train to become a blacksmith like his father. Yet Subotai had other ideas. Inspired by his older brother’s deeds, helping Temujin to gain victory in a number of battles, Subotai also offered his services just four years later.

  However, when Subotai presented himself to Temujin he didn’t appear to have much to offer. Unlike the Mongols, Subotai had not been taught to ride a horse by the age of three, nor was he given a bow, and trained in its use, by the age of five. He also had no experience of spending time in the saddle and navigating his way across the harsh open landscape, with few landmarks to guide him. It was skills such as these that had made the Mongol cavalry such a formidable force, whereby they could manoeuvre a galloping horse using only their legs, with their hands free to shoot arrows or stab and strike an enemy.

  In the absence of such skills, it seemed all Subotai had to offer was being Jelme’s younger brother. But this was good enough, as Jelme had proven to be a loyal and much-valued soldier. What Subotai lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm, fierce intelligence and unwavering loyalty during a time of warfare between the tribes, as seen in his pledge to Temujin, quoted in The Secret History of the Mongols:

  Then Subotai promised him: ‘I’ll be like a rat and gather up others. I’ll be like a black crow and gather great flocks. Like the felt blanket that covers the horse, I’ll gather up soldiers to cover you. Like the felt blanket that guards the tent from the wind, I’ll assemble great armies to shelter your tent.’

  Initially assigned to be Temujin’s keeper of the tent door, the young Subotai received a first-class education in military planning. Taking in their every word, he listened to Temujin and his generals as they planned their conquests. He also threw himself into becoming a warrior by learning how to ride a horse and shoot a bow, and practising the manoeuvre-and-fire tactics of the Mongol cavalry.

  Between 1197 and 1206, Subotai helped Temujin brutally overwhelm all of his enemies in bloodthirsty fashion, giving the Mongols a fearsome reputation. For instance, upon conquering the Tatar tribe that had killed his father, Temujin ordered all males to be led past the wheel of a wagon. All those who were taller than the wheel were beheaded, while the smaller children were incorporated into the Mongol army and the women forced into slavery. At this, the Tatars ceased to exist as a tribe. This was a tactic the Mongols would hone to perfection in time, ensuring that all conquered enemies would be rendered either extinct or broken as a people and as a country.

  With Subotai rising to the rank of commander of several regiments, he helped Temujin finally destroy the Merkit tribe in 1206. For the first time in almost fifty years, all the Mongol clans were now united under the command of a single national leader. At this point, Temujin changed his name to one that would be known throughout history. He called himself Genghis Khan.

  Having conquered his own land, Genghis immediately set about creating a national army capable of large-scale, sustained military operations against more powerful opponents. Within it, he made Subotai Lord of the Regiment and a field marshal. From that day forward, no major military operation was planned or undertaken by Genghis Khan, or later by his son, Ogedei, in which the voice of Subotai was not heard.

  In addition to this, Subotai was enlisted into what many consider to be the Mongol army’s most elite unit: the Kheshig. This was the home of the
brightest and most promising of the Mongol army’s military commanders and staff officers, of which Subotai was a leading figure. Its goal was to institutionalise excellence in command while also operating as an imperial guard.

  The candidates for membership were identified early in their careers, with selection based strictly on merit. Therefore, unlike so many elite units of the age, common people were not excluded. All that mattered was that a candidate had shown great potential to be a great warrior or commander. Learning under the best the Mongol army had to offer, such as Subotai, candidates were groomed as officers and given a special status above the regular army.

  This was reflected on the battlefield where the Kheshig imperial guard took its place next to the Great Khan in the centre of the line. In black lacquered armour, mounted on black horses, they were a terrifying sight. However, while protecting the king in battle was an important requirement, they also had another vital role: acquiring intelligence. And the lengths to which Subotai would go to acquire intelligence, and then use it to conquer lands, is one of the most extraordinary stories in military history.

  While Genghis commenced his long war with China in 1211 (which would only come to an end in 1234), he brutally conquered Khwarizm in 1219, thanks in part to Subotai’s strategic planning. The slaughter was so great that it was said that over four-fifths of the population were killed or reduced to slavery. As J. J. Saunders, in his book The History of the Mongol Conquests, puts it: ‘The cold and deliberate genocide practiced by the Mongols . . . has no parallel save that of the ancient Assyrians and modern Nazis.’