Latest / Tamerlane: The Conqueror Who Tried to Rebuild the Mongol Legacy — Fexingo History / The Timurid Chessboard: How Tamerlane Bent the Rules
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Tamerlane's military campaigns, his siege engines, his war elephants, even his falconry. But there's a quieter obsession that ran through his whole life, something that he probably spent more hours on than any battle plan, and it's a game we all know today. Luna: Chess, right? Lucas: Exactly. Chess. But not the chess we play now. Tamerlane played a version with a larger board, more pieces, and rules that felt a bit like his battlefields — unpredictable, demanding, and designed for a mind that thought in terms of whole armies, not just single moves. Lucas: We know this because of a surviving manuscript, the 'Book of Tamerlane's Chess' — it's from around 1390, maybe later, and it describes a game called Shatranj al-Kabir, or 'great chess'. It's sometimes credited to Tamerlane himself, though it was probably written by a court scholar to flatter him. Still, the game is undeniably his in spirit. Luna: What made it so different from regular chess? Lucas: First, the board. Instead of 64 squares, it had 112 — eleven by eleven, plus a sort of citadel on the right edge called the 'citadel', where a king could take refuge. That's a huge change. And the pieces were more numerous and exotic: there were camels, giraffes, war machines, pickets, even a 'vizier' that moved like a bishop but limited to two squares. The game wasn't just about checkmate — you could win by capturing all your opponent's pieces, which is more like a total annihilation than a tactical retreat. Lucas: And here's the thing — Tamerlane probably didn't invent the game. Versions of it existed in Persia and India. But he made it his own, and it became a kind of signature for him. He used chess metaphors constantly, both in his letters and in his conversations, comparing his campaigns to chess moves. When he wrote to Bayezid I before the Battle of Ankara, he described his armies as pieces on a board, warning that he would 'move his rook' against the Ottoman's 'king'. Luna: So he saw war literally as a chess game. Lucas: Exactly. And not just metaphorically. Ibn Arabshah, the historian who actually met Tamerlane, tells a story about a chess match between the conqueror and a scholar. Tamerlane was a strong player, but this scholar was better. Fearing the emperor's wrath, the scholar deliberately played badly and lost. Tamerlane, knowing exactly what was happening, was amused — but also a little sad, because he wanted a real challenge. That story tells you a lot about his personality, and about how people around him had to navigate his ego. Lucas: There's also a famous legend, probably apocryphal, that Tamerlane once played chess with a slave who was an excellent player. The slave won, and Tamerlane, rather than punishing him, gave him his freedom and a position in his court. The story is probably too neat to be true, but it shows how later generations wanted to remember him — as a man who respected skill, even in a lowly opponent. Luna: That's a nice image. But was chess just a pastime for him, or did it actually shape his military thinking? Lucas: Great question. I think it did more than we might expect. Tamerlane's campaigns were famous for their complexity — multiple armies moving in concert, feints, flanking maneuvers, and careful timing. That's exactly the kind of thinking chess trains. And in his military manuals, like the one attributed to him, he explicitly lists chess as a way for commanders to learn strategy. So it wasn't just a game; it was a training tool. Lucas: And the pieces themselves reflect his world. The camel moves diagonally but awkwardly — it's a long-range piece that's hard to control, like his cavalry units that could strike deep but were vulnerable if isolated. The war machine, which we'd call a cannon or a catapult, moves like a rook but in a zigzag — a nod to siege warfare. The giraffe has a very strange move, something like a knight but longer. It's as if the board was a miniature map of his own army. Lucas: But there's another layer, too. Chess was a status symbol. In the Timurid court, owning a beautiful set — made of ivory, jade, or even gold — was a statement of wealth and culture. Tamerlane, who came from a modest nomadic background, was obsessed with legitimacy. He wanted to be seen as the heir to Genghis Khan, but also as a patron of Persian and Islamic civilization. Chess was a perfect vehicle for that — it was intellectual, prestigious, and linked to the great kings of the past. Luna: So he was playing chess, but he was also playing a long game for his own reputation. Lucas: Absolutely. And he wasn't the only one. His sons and grandsons, especially Shah Rukh and Ulugh Beg, were also known as chess enthusiasts. The Timurid dynasty became famous for its intellectual court, and chess was part of that. So when we think about Tamerlane, we often picture him on horseback with a sword, but he was equally at home on a carpet with a board between him and his advisors, planning his next move. Luna: You know, it's kind of humbling that a conqueror who killed so many people also loved something as thoughtful as chess. Lucas: It is. And it's a good reminder that historical figures are never one-dimensional. But it also makes you wonder — did he ever see his victims as pieces to be sacrificed? Maybe. But he also saw himself as a player in a grand game, and that's how he justified so much destruction. Lucas: And before we get too deep into the psychology, there's actually a personal reason I wanted to do this episode. We've been talking about history now for over two hundred episodes, and it's a real privilege to have you along for the ride. I know that's a bit of a side thought, but it's true. Luna: Yeah, and it wouldn't happen without the listeners. This show is a labor of love — no ads, no corporate backing. Lucas: Exactly. So if you're someone who's been stepping into history with us episode by episode, and you've gotten something out of it, a couple of dollars a month is genuinely what keeps these going. Just buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo — it's that simple, and it really does make a difference. Luna: It does. And with that, let's get back to the board. Lucas: So, one of the most intriguing aspects of Tamerlane's chess is how it was actually played. I've seen reconstructions, and it's a complex game. You have to protect your king, but you also have to manage this huge array of pieces that don't always do what you expect. It's a bit like trying to coordinate a dozen different generals on a chaotic battlefield. Luna: Do we have any records of actual games he played? Lucas: Not the moves themselves, no. But we have Ibn Arabshah's account of the match I mentioned, and there's also a famous story about a game with his son, Shah Rukh. In that one, Tamerlane deliberately let his son win, to teach him a lesson about mercy. Whether that's true or not, it tells us how chess was used as a teaching tool and a political instrument within the family. Lucas: And then there's the legend that Tamerlane's chess board itself became a symbol of his conquests. In Samarkand, he commissioned a giant board made of onyx and marble, supposedly large enough that people could walk on it as pieces. That's probably mythology, but it shows how chess was woven into his image as a world-conqueror. Lucas: What's interesting is that the game didn't survive in its original form for long. After Tamerlane's death, the Timurid court continued to play it, but by the 16th century, it had almost disappeared, replaced by the faster, simpler game we know now. Still, a few copies of the rules remain, and in the 20th century, chess historians brought it back to life. You can actually play it online today — I tried it once, and it's a mind-bender. Luna: I might have to try that. But for Tamerlane, was chess really about strategy, or was it more about showing off? Lucas: Both, honestly. He was a brilliant tactician, and chess must have been a genuine intellectual pleasure. But he also used it to project an image of wisdom and foresight. When he beat an opponent — and he usually did — it was a demonstration that his mind was as sharp as his sword. And when he lost, which he rarely did publicly, he could turn it into a lesson about humility. It was all part of the performance. Lucas: There's also a darker side. Chess was sometimes used as a cruel joke. There are stories of him forcing captured enemies to play him, knowing they'd lose and then humiliating them. That's not necessarily in the historical record, but it fits his reputation for psychological warfare. Luna: So chess was his sandbox, and his enemies were just pieces to be knocked down. Lucas: In a way, yes. But it also humanizes him a bit. Here's a man who spent so much of his life on the move, conquering and destroying, who still found time to sit down and play a quiet game of chess with his courtiers. It's a small, intimate thing, but it reminds us that even the most fearsome rulers have rituals and hobbies that ground them. Lucas: And for us today, that game is a window into his mind. When we look at that 112-square board, we see a world that's bigger and more complex than standard chess — full of strange pieces, hidden traps, and multiple ways to win. That's a pretty good metaphor for how Tamerlane saw his own empire. Luna: I think that's the perfect takeaway. He didn't just play a different game — he lived by its rules.