Latest / Tamerlane: The Conqueror Who Tried to Rebuild the Mongol Legacy — Fexingo History / Tamerlane's Chessboard: The Timurid Game of Strategy
Transcript
- Lucas: So, episode two hundred. I thought we'd do something a little different, a little closer to the man himself. Luna: Different how? Lucas: We've talked about his wars, his cities, his spies, even his postal riders. But what about his leisure? What did Tamerlane do when he wasn't conquering? Luna: I'm guessing he didn't just sit around reading poetry. Lucas: He played chess. But not the chess we know. This was a massive version with a hundred and twelve squares, not sixty-four. And the pieces weren't just rooks and knights—there were camels, giraffes, even war machines. Luna: Wait, camels and giraffes? How does that even work? Lucas: Good question. See, this was a variant of shatranj, the Persian form of chess, but blown up to a grand scale. The board was eleven by eleven, or sometimes ten by eleven, depending on who you ask. The extra squares meant more pieces, more room for strategy, and honestly, a lot more chaos. Lucas: And just like everything else in his life, Tamerlane didn't just play it—he mastered it. The chronicler Ibn Arabshah, who actually met him, said he was one of the best players of his age. He was known for his patience, his ability to see ten moves ahead, and his absolute ruthlessness on the board. Luna: So it was a mental battlefield for him? Lucas: Exactly. And that's what I want to dig into today. Because if you look at how he played chess, you see how he ran his empire. It's all about calculated risk, sacrifice, and the long game. Lucas: And since we're talking about a game that's all about strategy and patience, it feels like a good moment to mention something that keeps this show going: listener support. If you've been stepping into history with us episode by episode, and you enjoy these deep dives, you can help keep the podcast ad-free by buying us a coffee at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a small gesture, but it really does keep the whole thing running. Luna: Yeah, and we're glad to have you along for the ride. Lucas: So, back to the board. Let's talk about the pieces. What exactly did a camel do in this game? According to the historical texts, it moved like a slightly elongated knight—a little more awkward, a little more unpredictable. Lucas: And the giraffe? That one could jump over pieces and move in an L-shape, but it was slower. The war machine, though—that was a beast. It could move any number of squares orthogonally, like a rook, but only two squares diagonally. It was a brute force piece, perfect for smashing through the enemy's defenses. Luna: Sounds like Tamerlane's army on a board. Lucas: You're not wrong. And the king, the shah, had a special move called the 'king's leap', where he could jump to a safe square, much like castling but more dramatic. It was a game of survival, just like real warfare. Lucas: Now, there's a famous story about Tamerlane and a chess problem. A scholar—some say it was the mathematician al-Kashi, who later worked at his observatory—came to him with a problem: how to checkmate a lone king with a minimal number of moves, using only his own pieces. Tamerlane solved it in his head, faster than anyone else at court. Luna: Al-Kashi, the astronomer? I thought he was more into numbers. Lucas: He was, but chess was a serious intellectual pursuit back then. It was considered a training ground for strategic thinking. And Tamerlane, of course, was all about that. He reportedly said, 'I play with my enemies as I play with my pieces. I sacrifice a pawn to win a kingdom.' Lucas: Now, this isn't a direct quote from any surviving source—it's more of a paraphrase that's been passed down. But the sentiment fits perfectly with how he actually operated. Luna: So chess was like a way for him to train his mind for the real thing. Lucas: Absolutely. And he wasn't just playing at home. When the Castilian ambassador Ruy González de Clavijo visited Samarkand in 1404, he mentions seeing Tamerlane play chess in his gardens, surrounded by his court. Clavijo was impressed—not just by the moves, but by the sheer grandeur of the setting. Lucas: And there's another layer to this. The game itself was known as 'Tamerlane chess' in Europe, and it spread through Persia and India. But it wasn't just a pastime—it was a diplomatic tool. He would challenge visiting envoys to a game. If they won, he'd respect them more. If they lost, well, he'd already sized them up on the board. Luna: That must have been nerve-wracking for a diplomat. Lucas: Imagine being an ambassador from a minor kingdom, sitting across from the conqueror of half the world, trying to negotiate a treaty while he's calmly dismantling your chess pieces. It was a psychological game within the game. Lucas: But here's the thing—the chess we know today, with its sixty-four squares and modern rules, actually evolved from these larger variants. The game we play is a streamlined version of what Tamerlane would have played. His version was more chaotic, more unforgiving, and in many ways, more reflective of real warfare. Lucas: And it wasn't just chess. Tamerlane was also known to play a game called 'shatranj al-kabir', which means 'great chess'. It was even more complex, with an even larger board. Some historians think it was a way for him to simulate military campaigns with his generals. Luna: So he was literally wargaming with his commanders? Lucas: In a way, yes. The Zafarnama, the official history of his reign, describes him using chess as a way to teach his officers strategy. He'd set up positions that mirrored real battles and ask them how they'd attack or defend. Lucas: Now, there's a darker side to this, too. Some chroniclers, especially Ibn Arabshah, who was no fan of Tamerlane, claimed that the conqueror would sometimes use chess as a way to humiliate captured enemies. He'd force a defeated king to play him, and then beat them mercilessly, all while his court laughed. Luna: That's brutal, but honestly, it sounds exactly like him. Lucas: It does, doesn't it? But we have to be careful about sources. Ibn Arabshah wrote his history from a Mamluk perspective, so he had every reason to paint Tamerlane as a tyrant. The Zafarnama, written by Sharaf al-Din Ali Yazdi, is a much more flattering account. The truth probably lies somewhere in between. Lucas: But what's undeniable is that chess was a lifelong passion for Tamerlane. There are even stories that he had a chessboard made from the skulls of his enemies, but that's almost certainly a myth, likely invented by later writers to emphasize his cruelty. Luna: Yeah, that sounds like something from a horror movie. Lucas: Still, the myth tells us something about how he was perceived. Even his leisure time was seen as a tool for domination. Lucas: Let's talk about the legacy. Tamerlane chess didn't just disappear. It influenced chess in Persia and India, and some historians argue it even shaped the development of modern chess in Europe. The game was a bridge between cultures, just like Samarkand itself, which stood at the crossroads of the Silk Road. Lucas: And here's a little-known fact: the famous 'Timurid chess set' that you see in museums today—the one with the intricately carved pieces—isn't actually from his time. It's a later creation, but it's inspired by the descriptions we have of his games. Luna: So we don't have an actual set he used? Lucas: Sadly, no. But we do have detailed descriptions from travelers like Clavijo and from the Zafarnama. They tell us the pieces were made of ivory and wood, and some were even gilded. Tamerlane had a special set made for his grandson Ulugh Beg, who later became an astronomer and a chess enthusiast himself. Lucas: And that's one of the most fascinating things about Tamerlane. He was a ruthless conqueror, but he also appreciated intellectual pursuits. He brought scholars to his court, funded astronomical observatories, and yes, played chess with the same intensity he brought to the battlefield. Luna: So the chessboard was a mirror of his mind. Lucas: Exactly. And I think that's a fitting way to close out our two hundredth episode. Because in the end, Tamerlane's legacy isn't just about the cities he destroyed or the ones he built. It's about the way he thought, the way he planned, and the way he approached everything in life—as a game of high stakes, where every move mattered. Lucas: So next time you play a game of chess, spare a thought for the man who played it on a grander scale. And maybe, just maybe, try sacrificing a pawn to win a kingdom. Luna: I'll stick to losing my queen early, honestly. Lucas: Ha, well, that's the spirit.