TBT^256: Rebuilding Civilization: The Hunter-Gatherer

Months ago I soft-pitched the idea for a piece to Feigned Flight Magazine about the Mongols, specifically related to a question their editor and founder, Michael, posed: did the Mongols really contribute anything enduring to civilization? And, no, we’re not talking about yurts or horseback riding equipment or techniques; rather, did they contribute anything that left an indelible imprint beyond a handful of technological innovations?

The historical record seems to indicate that, while the Mongols certainly had a significant impact—destroying some insane percentage of the world’s population, along with countless cities and towns—they never seemed to develop a culture of their own that would come to dominate other cultures. Instead—as is often the case with nomadic steppe peoples—they adopted the cultures of their conquered peoples.

Certainly, something similar could be said of the Romans—they largely adopted Greek culture as their own—but even before their conquest of Greece, the Romans had a highly sophisticated religion, government, etc. It seems that the Mongols had a world-historic figure in the form of Genghis Khan—and that’s it. His empire barely lasted a century beyond his death. Perhaps his most impactful descendant, Kublai Khan, is more noteworthy for how quickly he abandoned the life of the steppe for the soft silks of Chinese civilization (although it is said that he maintained a patch of Mongol grass and dirt on his palace grounds so he would stay tied to his homeland).

I don’t want to write off the Mongols entirely, but my (admittedly very) preliminary research seems to indicate that any “contributions” they made were really detriments to human development and flourishing. “Spreading the bubonic plague” isn’t exactly a “contribution,” more of an unfortunate side effect of hordes of horsemen thundering across Eurasia, leaving a bloody trail as they went.

If the Mongols accomplished anything, it’s that their swath of destruction brought about the fanciful “Pax Mongolica,” or “Mongol Peace,” a period from roughly 1250-1350 AD in which there was relative stability on the central Asian steppe. That peace allowed trade to flow relatively unmolested along the Silk Road (although the accounts of Marco Polo and others make it clear that it was still a very violent place). As I told my students in World History, though, it was “the peace of the graveyard”—it’s easy to pacify a wild land when there’s no one left alive to challenge you!

It is interesting to ponder, though: perhaps the real “contribution” of nomadic peoples like the Mongols is that they cause settled agriculturalists to better defend themselves. It also seems that the absorption of nomads into settled society injects some steppe vigor into established civilizations: the barbarians are uncouth, but they’re alive. Also, for all the independence of the Mongols and other steppe tribes, they had a codependent relationship with settled civilizations: the former depended on the latter for supplies via trading or raiding. It is interesting to consider, too, that once having tasted the fruits of civilization, many nomads opted for that life over the rough-hewn existence of the plains.

All interesting points to consider and mull over—and hopefully turn into a more structured essay!

With that, here is 28 August 2025’s “TBT^16: Rebuilding Civilization: The Hunter-Gatherer“:

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Lazy Sunday CCCXLXVIII: Imperial Ambition

While I was focused on moving most of my junk to the new house (and yet, there’s more bric-a-brac left to move), the United States and Israel let loose the dogs of war against Iran.  In light of that, I thought I’d cast back to some posts from earlier this year about nationalism, imperialism, and the like.

Let Loose the Murph of War

This edition of Lazy Sunday is largely a rehash of Lazy Sunday CCCXLXIII: Empire, but I’m tossing in some spicy Mongol content, too:

Happy Sunday!

—TPP

TBT: Midweek Mongol Madness

It’s my second consecutive year teaching World History (I taught it last school year for the first time since the 2011-2012 school year—whoa!), and I’m pleased to see that I’m two weeks ahead of schedule compared to where I was last year.  That’s likely due to having a bunch of my lessons done this year, so I’m not trying to pad out lectures with a bunch of riffing.

So it is that, as of the time of writing, I’ve just covered the Mongols in detail (minus a couple of slides before we talk about medieval Japan).

The Mongols are wildly fascinating, in part because they were wild—nomadic horsemen who would drink the blood of their horses when they were low on supplies; wore silk underwear that served as protection against arrows; and would switch horses mid-ride, spending as much as ten days in their saddles.  Under Genghis Khan, they spilled an immense amount of blood, slaughtering an estimated 40,000,000 (that’s forty million) people, equivalent to low-end estimates of those who perished in the Second World War.  Again, these are estimates—numbers from the thirteenth century aren’t necessarily reliable—but that comes to roughly 13% of the global population at the time.  Indeed, while writing these numbers, they seemed fantastically large; I had to go back and consult my World History textbook (that’s an Amazon Affiliate link; I receive a portion of any purchases made through that link, at no additional cost to you).

Genghis Khan’s conquests, as well as those of his successors, brought an odd peace, the Pax Mongolica (also an Amazon Affiliate link), to Eurasia for about 100 years.  It was the peace of the graveyard, as so many people were killed in the course of these invasions, there was no one troublesome enough left to cause a ruckus.  It also marked one of the few times in human history that a single political unit (sort of) controlled the great Eurasian steppes, allowing for the (alleged) journeys of Marco Polo and doubtlessly thousands of other unsung but intrepid merchants, missionaries, and explorers.

Naturally, the largest land-based empire ever to exist in the world could not long survive.  The Mongol Empire was probably never anything as such—a single, unified political unit—but more of an amalgamation of tribes, peoples, and regions swearing allegiance to the Great Khan.  After Genghis Khan’s death, the empire was divided into four khanates, with an ostensible Great Kahn ruling over the four, but with the regions going their own ways in practice.

Nevertheless, there is something captivating about the sheer scale of these conquests, and the way a nation of clannish, nomadic horsemen swept across the world, spreading their terrible fury and bloodlust as they went (and, it seems likely, the Black Death that would depopulate 25% of Europe).

Will another horde arise from the Eurasian steppes?  If so, let’s pray they fall far short of ambitious conquests of the Mongols.

With that, here is 5 March 2025’s “Midweek Mongol Madness“:

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Midweek Mongol Madness

I’m getting into the Mongols in the next unit in World History, but our current unit on the Byzantines, Russians, and Turks has already run into the Khanate of the Golden Horde.

The vast Eurasian steppe is one of those parts of the world that seems like a big, open, empty area in which nothing of substance really happens.  However, the exact opposite is true:  it’s a virtual spawn point for nomadic, horseback-riding invaders.  Long before the Mongols, groups like the ancient Aryans (the historic people, not the mythologized Nazi ones) and Scythians drove down from the steppe into Europe, India, the Middle East, and even China.

History YouTuber WhatIfAltHist posted a video earlier this week covering the “anti-civilization” of the steppe, and how various invaders have shaped civilizations around them.

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