The Battle of Ain Jalut, 1260. Mongol Defeat in Middle East by Mamluk Forces

The Mamluk victory decisively shattered the Mongol ambition to dominate the Middle East, safeguarding the heartlands of Islam. This triumph not only preserved the faith from being relegated back to a marginal existence in the arid deserts but also ensured its continued prosperity and influence across a vast and culturally rich region.

Ain Jalut, 3rd of September, 1260.
Mongol Forces: ~ 20,000 to 30,000 Steppe Warriors
Mamluk Forces: ~ 120,000 Mixed Heritage Soldiers

Additional Reading and Research:

• Holt, P.M. The Cambridge History of Islam, Vol 1. 
• Kwanten, Luc. Imperial Nomads. 
• Muir, William. The Mameluke, or Slave Dynasty of Egypt.
• Allsen, Thomas. Mongol Imperialism. 

Transcript

Hey, thanks for joining me on episode 19 of History's Greatest Battles. I'm an ardent fan of history, especially military history. But I'm not a credentialed military historian or a scholar. As such, we will experience mispronunciations. At the end of the show-notes is a link. If you're on your phone, you can click it and it will open a text message wherein you can correct my mispronunciations; or, give me any other thoughts that you would care to.

So, thanks for joining us again; and without further adieu: episode 19.

  Welcome to History's Greatest Battles, season 01, episode 19: The Battle of Ain Jalut, the 3rd of September, 1260 A.D. 

 Mongol Forces: estimated between 20,000 and 30,000 steppe warriors.
Mamluk Forces: roughly 120,000 soldiers.

The Mamluk victory at Ain Jalut stopped the Mongol horde from conquering the middle east, ultimately affecting a cause and effect situation that influenced Islam and Europe.

By the year 1219, the Mongol horde, under the indomitable Genghis Khan, had unleashed its fury across the steppes and spread its vast influence to the very shores of the Caspian Sea, where East met West in a volatile dance of power. It was in this region, at the crossroads of ancient empires, that the Shah of Khwarizm made a grievous error. By refusing to hand over a governor responsible for the murder of two Mongol envoys, he dared to insult the Great Khan, a decision akin to spitting in the face of a storm. This insolence could not go unanswered. Genghis Khan, with the fury of a tempest, launched a devastating invasion that would spell the doom of Khwarizm, sweeping away its armies and cities like autumn leaves before a gale, and opening the gates for a Mongol deluge into the heart of the Middle East.

To exact vengeance, Genghis Khan dispatched four formidable armies to deliver punishment without mercy. The Khan himself led one force, laying waste to the grand cities of Bokhara, Samarkand, and Balkh, their flames lighting the sky as symbols of Mongol wrath. His son Juchi smashed the Shah’s forces at Jand, leaving in his wake a staggering toll of 160,000 dead. Not to be outdone, Jagatai, another of Genghis’s sons, captured and razed the fortress city of Otrar, while his youngest son, Tule, commanded 70,000 men through Khorasan, looting and burning all that stood in his path. These armies, unstoppable as a tide of locusts, continued their grim march, capturing and plundering the ancient and storied cities of Merv, Nishapur, Rayy, and Herat, each city falling like a pearl plucked from a necklace, leaving the empire of Khwarizm in ruins.

While Genghis Khan eventually returned to the steppes of Mongolia, his war-hardened horsemen remained, ensuring Mongol dominance endured. Following Genghis’s death, his successor, Ögedei, dispatched a massive force of 300,000 to crush a rebellion led by Jalal ud-Din. The rebel forces met their end at Diarbekr in northern Persia, where they were soundly defeated, silencing resistance with a fearsome display of Mongol might. Emboldened by their victory, the Mongol horde turned its gaze toward new territories, pillaging Armenia, Georgia, and the fertile lands of upper Mesopotamia, their passage marked by fire and blood.

In 1234, Genghis’s grandson, Hulagu, led a formidable force into Iran, determined to dismantle the notorious Assassins at their mountain stronghold of Alamut. With this fortress of fear dismantled, Hulagu set his sights on the jewel of the Islamic world, Baghdad, driven by an ambition to bring the city under Mongol control. Despite Hulagu’s Buddhist faith, his chief consort was a Christian, and he adhered to his grandfather’s policy of religious tolerance, embracing a pragmatism that would suit his imperial ambitions. Thus, Hulagu’s campaign against Baghdad was not one of religious zealotry but a calculated move of conquest, aimed at seizing power and wealth rather than imposing a particular faith.

To bolster his campaign, Hulagu called upon the warriors of the Golden Horde, the Mongol dynasty established in the plains of Russia, forging an alliance that would tighten the noose around Baghdad. Caliph Al-Mustasim Billah, caught in the pride of his ancient lineage, refused to submit to Hulagu’s demands for allegiance. Yet, in his arrogance, he ignored his generals’ desperate pleas to fortify Baghdad’s crumbling walls and bolster its faltering defenses, sealing the city’s fate. Trusting in the vestiges of his religious authority to summon defenders, the caliph failed to grasp that his influence had long waned. Faced with the dire choice between pledging fealty to the Mongols or allying with the Mamluks, the once-mighty slave soldiers of Egypt he had derided, Al-Mustasim’s indecision would prove fatal.

Realization dawned too late for the beleaguered caliph. In 1258, the Mongols breached Baghdad’s weakened walls, unleashing their fury for eight harrowing days, during which the city was subjected to unspeakable destruction. Baghdad, the once-glorious hub of Islamic learning and culture, saw its population decimated, its libraries and universities burned, its mosques desecrated, and its treasures plundered. The city that had been a beacon of knowledge would never again reclaim its status as the intellectual heart of the Islamic world. The fall of Baghdad rippled through the religious landscape of the region, resonating with unintended consequences far beyond Hulagu’s original designs.

Hulagu’s Christian wife urged him to forge alliances with the Crusader states in Syria, suggesting a confluence of interests against their shared Muslim adversaries. Yet, opposition brewed within his own family: Birkai, the leader of the Golden Horde and Hulagu’s relative, had embraced Islam. Not only did he refuse to lend further support, but he also extended aid to the Mamluks of Egypt, forming an Islamic coalition against Hulagu’s ambitions. Undeterred, Hulagu pressed forward, capturing Aleppo on January 25, 1260, and seizing the ancient city of Damascus on March 2, with the support of Crusader forces from Palestine, each victory tightening his grip on the Levant. As noted by historians, “Of the old heartlands of Islam, only Egypt and Arabia remained inviolate—and the way seemed open for the Mongols, firmly established in Damascus, to continue their irresistible advance” (Holt et al., The Cambridge History of Islam, vol. 1, p. 212).

With his sights set on Jerusalem, Hulagu’s ambitions were abruptly halted by a messenger bearing news that would alter the course of history: The Great Khan Möngke had died, and Hulagu’s immediate return to Mongolia was required to participate in the election of a new leader. Despite counsel from his wife, trusted generals, and his Crusader allies to remain, Hulagu departed for the Mongol heartlands, leaving behind a contingent of troops under the command of his trusted general Kit-Boga to maintain his grip on the region.

Meanwhile, in Egypt, Sultan Qutuz and his formidable general, Baybars, had been rigorously preparing for war ever since they had executed Hulagu’s envoy, who had arrogantly delivered the ultimatum: “This is the word of him who rules the earth. Tear down your walls and submit. If you do so, peace will be granted you. If you do otherwise, that will happen which will happen, and what it is to be we know not. The Sky alone knows” (Lamb, The March of the Barbarians, p. 244). Sensing an opportunity in Hulagu’s absence, Qutuz and Baybars marched their army north toward Syria. With not all Crusader factions aligned with the Mongols, Qutuz skillfully negotiated safe passage and essential supplies from the Frankish forces stationed in the port city of Acre.

While stationed in Acre, the Mamluks received word of Kit-Boga’s advance into Galilee. Reacting swiftly, they redirected their forces southeastward to intercept the Mongol army, setting the stage for a decisive confrontation. With Hulagu’s departure, most of the Mongol strength marched eastward, leaving Kit-Boga with only a modest rearguard force. Accounts vary, but it is estimated that Kit-Boga commanded between one and three toumans—Mongol cavalry units—ranging from 10,000 to 30,000 men.

General Baybars, known for his cunning and resourcefulness, assembled not only the elite Mamluk warriors of Egypt but also an eclectic mix of Bedouin tribesmen, the fierce Hawwarah of Upper Egypt, and bands of fugitive Turcomans and Arabs. Together, this formidable coalition swelled the Mamluk ranks to a staggering 120,000 soldiers. In a clash of equal forces, the legendary prowess of the Mongol cavalry would likely have prevailed. However, Sultan Qutuz placed his hopes on sheer numbers, believing that his army’s numerical superiority would counterbalance the unmatched skill and ferocity of the Mongol horsemen.

On September 3, 1260, the two great armies converged on the Plain of Esdraelon at Ain Jalut, ominously known as Goliath’s Well, a name that echoed the historic clash about to unfold. Kit-Boga’s Mongol force was strategically divided, with approximately 40 percent heavy cavalry, clad in armor and wielding lances, while the rest were swift, agile light cavalrymen, renowned for their deadly accuracy with the compound bow, complemented by the occasional use of javelins. Following the aggressive doctrines that had defined Mongol warfare since Genghis Khan’s conquests, Kit-Boga was disinclined to alter a formula that had brought his people unparalleled success. Despite being outnumbered nearly four to one, Kit-Boga boldly initiated the attack, sending his light cavalry to the front while directing his heavy cavalry to smash into the Mamluk left flank, aiming to break their lines with a decisive strike.

The battle-hardened discipline that had forged the Mongol Empire now bore its weight, and the Mamluks, unable to withstand the ferocity of the assault, soon found themselves in full retreat, seemingly confirming the Mongol superiority. Yet, Baybars, a master of battlefield strategy, had anticipated such a turn of events. Baybars’s life was a testament to the tumultuous nature of the era. Born a Kipchak Turk, he was captured by Mongols in his youth, only to be sold into slavery once more, this time to a Mamluk emir in Egypt, where he would rise to military prominence. Having been shaped by both Mongol and Mamluk military traditions, Baybars possessed a unique duality of knowledge, enabling him to harness the strengths of both philosophies in his strategies.

At Ain Jalut, Baybars employed a tactic often favored by the Mongols themselves: the feigned retreat. While initial accounts suggest that the Mamluk withdrawal was genuine, driven by the sheer power of the Mongol onslaught, Baybars had clearly anticipated such a scenario and prepared accordingly. Strategically positioning himself and a substantial contingent of Mamluk forces in the surrounding hills, Baybars awaited the perfect moment to spring his trap, observing as the Egyptian troops were driven into the valley below. At the critical moment, Baybars unleashed his hidden forces, launching a devastating assault on the Mongol flanks and rear. The overwhelming numbers of the Egyptian troops bore down on the Mongols, who found themselves surrounded and unable to repel the coordinated attack. The outcome was decisive: the entire Mongol contingent was either slain or captured, while the Egyptian losses, though not precisely recorded, were believed to be relatively modest in comparison.

It is worth noting that according to the Quran, slavery was sanctioned only under two conditions: the enslavement of the children of slaves or the capture of prisoners of war. It was through the latter that the majority of slaves under early Islamic rule came to be bound. Given the myriad roles that slaves played in society, it was only natural that Egyptian rulers would employ them as soldiers, known as ghulams, harnessing their loyalty and martial skills for the state. The Fatimid (909-1171) and Ayyubid (1171-1250) dynasties in Egypt constructed entire armies of slave soldiers. As was often the case in slave societies, the most capable among these warriors rose in rank and power, transcending their initial bondage. Just as trusted eunuchs ascended to high political offices, advising kings and sultans, slave soldiers also climbed the ranks, achieving command over armies and exerting significant influence under the caliphs and viziers.

Loyal and valorous under their Muslim masters, the Mamluks eventually seized power for themselves in the mid-thirteenth century, marking the dawn of their own rule. Upon the death of the last Ayyubid sultan, al-Salih, in 1249, his wife Shajar al-Durr astutely concealed his demise, issuing commands in his name to maintain stability. Once her subterfuge was uncovered, the Muslim leaders in Cairo chose a pragmatic course of action: they paired her with the Mamluk general Aybak, thereby ensuring a continuation of power and legitimacy. Although Shajar al-Durr married Aybak, she maintained her grip on power, eventually orchestrating his assassination—though not before securing a son, ensuring a successor. In a dramatic twist of fate, Shajar al-Durr met her end in 1257, slain by Aybak’s female servants. Her surviving son thus ascended to power, becoming the progenitor of the Mamluk dynasty.

This Mamluk dynasty endured for over 265 years, marked by periods of remarkable leadership and a flourishing renaissance in the arts, cementing their legacy in the annals of history. After 1381, the Burji dynasty, a new ruling family stemming from Mamluk descendants, rose to prominence, continuing the Mamluk legacy in a renewed era of power. Although the Burji dynasty endured for another 136 years, its reign was plagued by relentless palace intrigue and a cycle of assassinations, undermining its stability. Despite the internal turmoil, the Burji sultans lived opulently, transforming Cairo into the wealthiest city in the Mediterranean. However, the constant uncertainty over succession would ultimately prove to be their undoing.

The Mamluk armies met their end in 1517 at the hands of Selim I of the Ottoman Empire. Egypt was subsequently reduced to a vassal state, governed by a Turkish pasha. Despite this shift in power, the Mamluks managed to retain a degree of influence, serving in high government roles and maintaining significant command positions within the military. In 1798, when Napoleon Bonaparte embarked on his campaign to conquer Egypt, it was a Mamluk army that stood to face him in battle. Though they were defeated by Napoleon’s forces at the Battle of the Pyramids, the Mamluks sought to reclaim their throne following the French withdrawal from Egypt. The Mamluk resurgence was decisively crushed by the Turks, first in 1805 and then again in 1811, extinguishing Mamluk power permanently.

Returning to our main narrative: Captured, Kit-Boga was brought before Sultan Qutuz. Despite the scorn and taunts hurled at him by the Mamluks, he remained composed, declaring that his defeat was a mere inconvenience to the mighty Mongol Empire. Kit-Boga prophesied that a day would come when his defeat would be avenged and Egypt would be reduced to ashes. His confidence, rooted in the Mongols’ decades-long record of invincibility, would once more prove misplaced. As Hulagu journeyed back to the Mongol capital of Karakorum to participate in the selection of a new Great Khan, news reached him that Genghis’s grandson Kublai had already ascended to the throne. Concurrently, Hulagu received news of Kit-Boga’s defeat at Ain Jalut. Furious, he set his sights on avenging the fallen general. Yet, circumstances conspired against him, and he never succeeded in his quest for retribution.

The simmering rivalry with the Golden Horde diverted Hulagu’s attention, as he could not risk launching a campaign to reinvade the Middle East while leaving a potentially hostile force at his rear. In a swift and ruthless move, Baybars assassinated Qutuz, angered by what he perceived as insufficient reward for his role in the victory at Ain Jalut. A charismatic figure, beloved by both the army and the populace, Baybars’s bold act met with little opposition or outcry. Aware that the defeat of Kit-Boga could be seen as only a minor setback in the grand scheme of Mongol dominance, Baybars immediately set about fortifying Egypt’s defenses, fully anticipating Hulagu’s inevitable return. Baybars took the bold step of marching into Syria, ordering a mass evacuation of the population. He implemented a scorched-earth policy, leaving nothing but barren land to starve and frustrate any invading cavalry force.

Through shrewd diplomacy, Baybars persuaded the Crusaders to maintain their neutrality, cautioning them against the ill-advised alliances that some of their number had previously formed with Kit-Boga. In a twist of fate, these elaborate preparations would ultimately prove unnecessary. Kublai’s ascension to the title of Great Khan was not a smooth affair; his claim was challenged by his younger brother, Arik-Böke, leading to a power struggle within the Mongol ranks. Hulagu’s support for Kublai further strained his relations with Berke, the Khan of the Golden Horde, prompting Berke to reach out to Baybars, suggesting the formation of a strategic alliance.

Baybars responded with a blend of speed and eloquence, lavishing praise upon Berke while skillfully convincing him that Hulagu’s true intention was the destruction of their shared faith, Islam. As Hulagu prepared his forces in 1262 to avenge the defeat of Kit-Boga, his plans were abruptly halted by news of a Golden Horde army descending from the Caucasus, threatening his rear. Hulagu turned his forces to confront Berke’s army, engaging in a grueling battle along the Terek River. Both sides fought fiercely, pushing each other to the brink of exhaustion, yet neither could claim a decisive victory. Forced to retreat to Persia, Hulagu sought to rekindle his alliance with the Crusaders, a hope that was dashed by his untimely death in 1264, leaving the plan unfulfilled.

Hulagu’s son, Abaka, launched an expedition toward Egypt in 1281, but his advance was intercepted in Syria by Baybars’s successor, Sultan Qalawun, who defeated him decisively at the Battle of Homs. Following their defeat, the Mongols withdrew across the Euphrates River, where they established the Il-Khanate, a dynasty that would continue to exert influence over Persia. Though relatively brief in the grand scope of history, lasting roughly four decades, the Mongol invasion of the Middle East left an indelible mark on the region. The campaign ultimately solidified Muslim dominance in the Middle East, as the failure of the Mongols and Crusaders to form a cohesive alliance prevented them from achieving a lasting foothold in the region.

Kit-Boga’s defeat at Goliath’s Well, despite being a relatively minor engagement by Mongol standards, became the Middle Eastern equivalent of the Muslim defeat at Tours in France—a pivotal turning point in the preservation of Islamic power. Just as Christian Europe had repelled the Islamic advance at Tours, so did Muslim Egypt thwart the Mongol tide, safeguarding their dominion over the Middle East and preventing what could have been a retreat of Islam to its desert origins. Known for their brutal tactics of devastation and fear, the Mongols annihilated countless lives and obliterated a significant portion of Islamic literature and scientific knowledge. Yet, the Il-Khanate sought to rekindle a spirit of intellectual and cultural revival during its brief tenure.

The solidification of Mamluk power following the triumph at Ain Jalut breathed new life into the Islamic world, reinvigorating its political and spiritual resolve. Observers of the era noted the irony that the Mamluks, once men of the steppes like their Mongol adversaries, had demonstrated such formidable military prowess. This emboldened the Muslim world, spurring it to further propagate its faith into the northeastern territories. In a twist of fate, the Mongols who founded the Persian Il-Khanate eventually embraced Islam, thereby fortifying the religion’s presence along the Asian frontier, blending the legacies of both conqueror and conquered.