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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