Latest / Tamerlane: The Conqueror Who Tried to Rebuild the Mongol Legacy — Fexingo History / Tamerlane's Captive Chinese Paper Makers and the Samarkand Library
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about the captive artisans Tamerlane dragged back to Samarkand — the tile makers, the poets, the astronomers. But there's one group we haven't touched yet that's arguably the most foundational to his whole cultural project: the paper makers. Luna: Paper makers? I mean, I know paper was a big deal in the Islamic world, but specifically Chinese paper makers? Lucas: Exactly. And this gets to the heart of how Tamerlane thought. When he captured Damascus in 1401, among the prisoners were Chinese craftsmen who had been working in Syria — remnants of the Yuan dynasty's far-flung influence. He rounded them up along with the silk weavers and the glassblowers and sent them east to Samarkand. But the paper makers were special, because without them, none of the other cultural projects — the calligraphy, the histories, the poetry — would have had a medium to exist on. Luna: For anyone coming with us through these conversations about Central Asia, you might have noticed we spend a lot of time on these episodes — and they genuinely take hours of reading and scripting. A couple of dollars a month is what keeps these going, so if you've gotten something out of them, buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Yeah, it really does make a difference. And speaking of the paper — let's get into how it was made. The Chinese prisoners brought with them techniques for producing paper from mulberry bark, hemp, and rags. This was different from the cotton-based papers then common in the Islamic world. Their method gave a smoother, more absorbent surface — perfect for the fine naskh calligraphy that the Timurid scribes loved. Luna: So this wasn't just any paper — it was luxury paper? Lucas: Right. And Tamerlane set them up in a dedicated kitabkhana, a scriptorium, right in the heart of Samarkand. The Spanish envoy Ruy González de Clavijo, who visited in 1404, described seeing stacks of paper of different sizes and colors — some dyed with indigo or saffron for special manuscripts. The operation was huge: vats for soaking fiber, molds for forming sheets, presses for drying. It was essentially a proto-factory. Luna: And what did they make with all that paper? Lucas: Well, the most famous product is the Zafarnama, the official biography of Tamerlane written by Sharaf al-Din Ali Yazdi. That manuscript alone would have required hundreds of sheets. But also administrative documents — tax rolls, diplomatic letters, legal decrees. Paper was the backbone of the empire. Before the Chinese paper makers arrived, Samarkand had to import paper from Persia or China at great cost. After, they had their own supply, and it was cheaper and better. Luna: So it wasn't just about art — it was about bureaucracy too. Lucas: Absolutely. And that's the genius of Tamerlane's captive system. He didn't just hoard treasures; he hoarded skills. The paper makers, the calligraphers, the illuminators — they all worked together in the kitabkhana. The Chinese brought their techniques, but they adapted to local tastes. For instance, they started using starch sizing from rice to make the paper even smoother for Persian and Arabic script. So you get a fusion: Chinese technology, Islamic aesthetics, Central Asian patronage. Luna: I remember from the calligraphy episode that the kitabkhana also produced books on astronomy and medicine. Did the paper makers supply those too? Lucas: Exactly. The same paper that went into the Zafarnama also went into the astronomical tables of the Samarkand observatory. And the poets like Kamal Khujandi would have written on it. So the paper makers enabled the entire intellectual ecosystem. Without them, the library of Samarkand — which Clavijo said held tens of thousands of volumes — wouldn't have existed. And here's a fascinating detail: the Chinese paper makers also introduced watermarking techniques. Some Timurid papers have faint patterns that match Chinese designs, like dragons or clouds, but over time they shifted to Islamic geometric patterns. Luna: So you can literally see the cultural exchange in the paper itself. Lucas: Exactly. And the scale of production was massive. The historian Ibn Arabshah, who was a captive himself and not exactly a fan of Tamerlane, admitted that the paper makers of Samarkand produced paper of such quality that it was exported across the Islamic world. Samarkand became a brand — like the watermark was a mark of quality. So Tamerlane's conquests destroyed cities, but they also created a production hub that outlasted him. Luna: It's ironic that someone so focused on destruction also built something so enduring. Lucas: That's the contradiction at the heart of Tamerlane. He saw himself as the Sahib-i Qiran, the Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction, restorer of the Mongol legacy under the Yassa. But his method was to break things down and rebuild them elsewhere. The paper makers are a perfect example: uprooted from Damascus, replanted in Samarkand, and they thrived. Their legacy lasted centuries after his death. The paper industry in Samarkand continued through the 16th century, long after the Timurid dynasty fell. Luna: So when we think about Tamerlane's impact, we should think about paper as much as pyramids of skulls. Lucas: Exactly. The skulls are what people remember, but the paper — the books, the records, the poetry — that's what actually shaped the region's culture. And it all started with a bunch of Chinese prisoners who knew how to turn mulberry bark into something that could hold a world of ideas.