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Part Nineteen: Gyelmo Purgyal Pelmo 'the Scholar' (1114 to 1158 AD) (cont.)
Great Holy War for guge.jpg


Late in her reign Pelmo would find herself the target of Bön crusades, and not for nothing.

Part Nineteen: Gyelmo Purgyal Pelmo 'the Scholar' (1114 to 1158 AD) (cont.)


Torma II had lived to see the Kingdom of Guge pass to two of her sons. Her eldest surviving son Prince Zindé had taken the throne of Western Tibet in 1077 while still a boy and had grown up to be an impressive young man, strong in body and stronger in mind. Like his famous mother Zindé had combined an intellectual brilliance with a love of the wilds and the hunt. It was on one of his many expeditions in early 1093 that he met his fate at the teeth and claws of a tiger.

The death of Zindé of Guge was a personal tragedy for the Purgyals and a national loss for the people of Guge but few realised at the time it set both Guge and Ü-Tsang along a path to war that would dominate the next six decades. The court in Taktsé always insisted that Pelmo, Zindé's legitimate daughter born three months after his death was the rightful ruler of Guge. The court in Tsaparang, the capital of Guge, had declared for Zindé's half brother Prince Udumsten and his heirs.

Torma had refused to be drawn into a war between her son and her granddaughter and Daktri had also shuddered at the thought of fighting his half-brother, but throughout the years from her birth to her own coronation in Taktsé Pelmo had been seen as the Gyelmo of Guge in exile. The young Gyelmo had even made a point of snubbing envoys from her uncle Udumsten and always referenced him (when she would speak of him at all) as 'the usurper'. Fortunately for the Tibetan Plateau there was no immediate war; the new monarch of Ü-Tsang was finding her feet in Taktsé (and would soon be distracted by religious matters) while Udumsten was growing old and fat and even more well entrenched in Tsaparang. An uneasy peace would last for many years.

The cold war between the two Tibets ended in 1128 with the passing of Udumstem and the rise of his eldest son Jetsun 'the Dragon' to the throne of Guge. The thirty year old Gyalpo Jetsun had provoked the clash by egging on his young brother Prince Yumtän in his ambition to seize Ü-Tsang from their cousin Pelmo. Prince Yumtän was another in the mold of those adventurers who believed they win by the sword what they could not by the law, and was never regarded as a serious threat in Taktsé - indeed far from conquering Ü-Tsang Prince Yumtän's invasion in 1131 and 1132 would end in disaster and defeat and his capture by Pelmo. The ambitious princeling ended up being ransomed back to his brother, who was by that point himself at war with Pelmo.


Ransom of Yumtan.jpg


Prince Yumtän is ransomed, 1132 AD.

Yumtän's humiliation was simply a footnote in the greater clash between Guge and Ü-Tsang, but it was the first throwing down of the gauntlet that gave Pelmo her excuse to war for her stolen throne (as she saw it.) Between November 1129 and March 1137 the cousins would fight one of the most exhausting wars in Tibetan history. Pelmo, ever shrewd had renewed her peace with the Zhao Empire to prevent her cousin from calling in Chinese soldiers. What she could not prevent was the opportunism of others; Prince Yumtän was not the only man who raided Ü-Tsang during the war and time and again Pelmo was forced to deal with barbarian raiders, peasant and Buddhist rebellions and one point even a side war with the Maharaja of Bihar provoked by one of her subjects [1]. All of this trouble prevented the greater population and wealth of Ü-Tsang deciding the fight quickly.

Culturally Eastern and Western Tibet were akin and the forces that faced each other fought in identical fashion. Tibet was often thought of as mountainous by the outside world but in fact most of the land was flat (if at high elevation.) Both major Tibetan kingdoms employed extensive horsemen, mostly light lance and sword armed soldiers; the Tibetans were all too familiar with horse archers from their experience with barbarians but seldom used such themselves. The bulk of the numbers were provided by light infantrymen (a misleading delicate term for the tough and strong minded villagers who eked out a living in the roof of the world), supplemented by archers and more exotic troops. At the Battle of Marpori in May 1130 the Guge army fielded twenty nine war elephants with Indian mahouts; mercenaries recruited at great cost from the South. It didn't win the battle for them but it did impress Pelmo enough to start bringing her own war elephants from Assam [2].

All these soldiers were important but the key to Tibetan armies remained the heavy infantry wielding swords and clad in chain and lamellar, many minor gentry or exceptionally rich peasants at the area were the line blurred. These soldiers were often longserving veterans of the the innumerable small wars that had gripped the plateau even during times of war. Disproportionately they were likely to take the enemy prisoner in exchange for a fat ransom (Prince Yumtän was taken for exactly this reason.)

At least in these early years the issue of religion was less of a factor than might be supposed. The Archpriestess supported the reigning Gyalpo of Guge less for the fact that he was a practicing Bön and more from the fact that Tsaparang had been the religious capital of Tibet for centuries and generations of priests and priestesses had paid temporal fealty to the lord of Guge. Jetsun's soldiers were mostly Bön but he also had Buddhists and Hindus marching beneath his banners. Pelmo had even less desire to make the contest one of faith; not just her soldiers but so many of her generals prayed to different gods. Besides both Purgyal cousins were fighting for what they believed and proclaimed were their legal rights.


Battle of Coqen.jpg


The Battle of Coqên, April 11133 AD. Though it did not change the course of the war it did show Ü-Tsang was far from invincible.

Even with the nuisances on her home front Pelmo and her supporters gradually ground down the enemy. Most of the war was fought inside the borders of Guge as Pelmo's armies fought bloody field battles and captured prize towns. The fighting was not one sided, with Tsaparang itself changing hands three times. There were battles that saw Guge emerge triumphant, such as Coqên in April 1133 when the ambushed Eastern Tibetans suffered a rout that undid every gain the last four years of war. Pelmo held on through these grim years and eventually pushed Jetsun to the negotiating table.

The result was a recognition of Pelmo as Gyelmo of Guge, but also left a patchwork of territory still under the rule of Jetsun. In the previous century the rulers of Guge had pushed deep into the Punjab during various Bön holy wars. Those gains had evaporated over the generations but Jetsun was still able to style himself the 'Gyalpo of Punjab' and retain much of his old support. He even managed to keep Tsaparang.

Pelmo had won, but the victory fell far short of her expectations. Had she been able to she might well have rejected her cousin's offers but the situation in Ü-Tsang was becoming desperate with an one stage three seperate barbarian bands raiding the country. Her nobles were growing very restive and she knew well enough that the neighbouring knigdoms had already grown wary of Ü-Tsang ambitions. So with deep reluctance she had signed a peace.

The truce that followed would last for a decade. It wasn't entirely a time of peace. In 1141 Pelmo found herself facing yet another of Jetsun's siblings as Princess Yeshe invaded Ü-Tsang at the head of a host of adventurers and sellswords, eager to win the crown of Guge for herself. Yeshe ended up just like her brother Yumtän, defeated in battle and imprisoned - though this time Pelmo decided against ransoming her. Crafty and charismatic Yeshe was too dangerous a foe to be let loose, though in deference to her blood ties to Pelmo Yeshe was kept under modest house guard in Taktsé.

Pelmo could at least enjoy the satisfaction of clipping her most dangerous cousin's wings. She needed such satisfactions. Her youngest and favourite son Prince Mangyen had died suddenly in September 1139. The sixteen year old prince had, apparently suffered a heart attack. There were whispers (though there were always whispers.) No greater loss could have been felt by Pelmo. For most of her reign her letters to the Patriarch of the East had been dry doctrinal affairs. Those written in the years that followed were much more personal, yearning even. In her grief the Gyelmo turned further to her faith.

There was a certain hardening of the royal religious policy in this stage of Pelmo's long reign. Non-Christian courtiers were still welcome in the monarch's presence and there was no mass persecution of pagans, who at this stage still made up the vast majority of Pelmo's subjects. However the speed of bishops replacing lamas increased and a seat on the council now came with the expectation that the favoured grandee would at least consider changing their religion. The presence of the Archpriestess of the Bön faith in Jetsun's court added a political edge to the personal.

In Austt 1147 the peace collapsed. Neither Purgyal monarch had seen the peace as anything other than a temporary postponement, but for the first time religion openly became a point of conflict. Pelmo alleged that her cousin had sought to suborn her Bön subjects into treason. This two year long war would see Pelmo conquer Purang, including the old capital of Guge, Tsaparang. However as successful as it was the enemy retained enclaves of land in Pelmo's domain that through artful diplomacy or simple military inaccessibility were beyond her reach. The ambition of unifying the Tibetan Empire of Old, so close at times remained an enchanting illusion while these infuriating malcontents remained at large and other elements of Old Tibet remained under foreign control. Pelmo was the strongest ruler Tibet had seen in three centuries but she would never wear the imperial crown.

The final years of Pelmo's reign were clouded by renewed war. In June 1155 the Archpriestess Dagmo declared a Great Holy War for Guge on Pelmo. It was a breathtakingly foolish decision unless Dagmo truly believed Pelmo's Bön subjects would revolt en masse. They did nothing of the sort and though the war ground slowly and cost Pelmo the life of another son the outcome was never in doubt. Indeed the clash might have ended sooner had Pelmo not ordered the execution of Dagmo upon her capture in 1177. The Gyelmo's wrath was officially delivered not to a heretic but to a traitor - as rightful monarch of Guge she considered Dagmo her subject in rebellion, whatever the Bön theologian thought and that she had spread vicious propaganda against Pelmo during and before the war had not encouraged mercy.

It is difficult for later historians to tell how Pelmo's Bön subjects felt about Dagmo going to the stake, as the religiously conservative courtiers and great barons made no public comment. Many of Pelmo's peasant subjects of course were 'Old Bön' who had always rejected the formal clergy that the reformed Bön hierarchy had imposed. Ironically these most stubborn and troublesome (to the Purgyals) traditionalist believers had rejoiced at the downfall of an elite they had seen as arrogant, corrupt and all too inclined to follow Buddhist teachings. If anything the response seems to have been more negative in the religiously diverse towns. There was a general feeling among the merchant classes that Pelmo's uncharacteristic bloodlust was provoked less by her faith and more by the ancient grudge she carried over being cheated out of her inheritance in the first place. Still, it gave even her most enthusiastic supporters pause.

In March 1158 Pelmo died, worn to the marrow by exhaustion and loss though comforted by prayer. Her achievements had been undeniable and she had come within an ace of uniting all Tibet but along the way she had fought more and bloodier wars than any of her predecessors and the Nestorian faith she championed still only had the hearts and minds of one in ten of her people. It would be up to her last surviving son, Selbar, to weld this strange creation of the battlefield and the chapel into a sustainable state.


Borders 1158.jpg


Tibet in March 1158 AD.

Footnotes:

[1] This side war would eventually be settled by a minor surrender of territory to Bihar.

[2] On both sides the war elephants suffered murderously high casualty rates via accidents, exposure or diseases long before they saw battle. Despite this and there relatively low numbers the sheer size and terror the beasts could produce left a lasting impression in Tibetan folklore and history.

 
Aha, som Christianity finally got to the top. Nice. :D

Glad you like it!

Yeah, gonna be honest, this killed any interest I had in this story, especially since you appear to have engineered this just to appeal to the two or three users that didn't shut up about Nestorianism.

I'm sorry to hear that. I don't think I was forced into going down this story route, though I admit it was an avenue I found interesting. I'd also considered going Jewish or Taoist at certain times, but it never felt plausible in universe. Here by random event my character became Sympathetic towards Christians and I decided to run with that.

If you change your mind i'd be happy to have you as a reader again, but if not thanks for your support and may we meet again in another AAR. :)

To be honest I never really considered this possibility. Very intriguing.

Both hated and revered - when someone has a epithet like that you know that, whatever else they did, they did stuff. Lots of stuff. Very interesting indeed.

Thanks. :)

Pelmo was a ruler of two halfs and surprisingly the religious side only had a limited impact on her conquering side - she invaded Guge because she had a claim to the throne, and if holy war crept in late in her reign she was, generally speaking, tolerant on belief.

I expect she'll be a very divisive figure in-universe.

The conversion does seem to come a bit out of the blue, but I think you do a decent job of building it up convincingly. I don't really have a dog in the fight as far as a Nestorian Tibet goes, but I think we can bend the rules of plausibility a little in the interests of telling an interesting story.

I wonder if, in this world, Tibet will become the core around which the legend of Prester John forms in the West.

Thanks, and that is an interesting idea I hadn't considered before. I suppose we still have to see if Nestorianism or a powerful Tibet - last!

I have absolutely no evidence for the following, but I have always kinda assumed Prester John was influenced by the idea of Nestorianism getting confused with the Manichaean states of central Asia, and elsewhere in the world with Ethiopia.

Theory or no that sounds quite convincing. :)

Unifying Tibet via Holy War? That was unexpected.

Well, mostly just regular claims war, but yeah the holy war aspect played a part!
 
I do also think this woman will be a divisive historical figure...
 
Oh my - can you imagine how views on her reign will rend historical studies in years hence? Think of how much ink will be spilled, how many pages scattered, how much hot air with erupt from irate lungs? Think of how easy it will be to demonstrate the study of historiagraphy, just by looking at the various historians and commentaries of this one monarch.

Who, beneath all the words and the vitriol remained and remains just what she always was: a woman placed by chance in a certain place, trying to live her life as any other would, making choices and decisions as they came to her, nothing more. A very human woman. And that is, I would argue from my future-alternative perspective, her greatest triumph.
 
So, the Archpriestess declares Holy War and ends up in the stake? That's poetic justice!
 
I've been catching up on this over the last week but didn't want to post until I was up to date. Really great stuff, CK lends itself well to your 'history of people' style and you've painted a fascinating picture. I'll be totally honest I was surprised by your choice of country but you've really leaned into the cosmopolitan and (dare I say) 'exotic' flavour of a region and period that rarely gets a look in. As you mentioned yourself a couple of pages back, Tibet (and Central Asia) is not boring 'nowhere' but the crossroads of the known world, and all the cultural and religious mixtures that creates is a real unique treat.
 
Part Twenty: Gyalpo Purgyal Selbar I 'the Merry' (1158 to 1179 AD)
Selbar I.jpg


Gyalpo Purgyal Selbar I 'the Merry' in 1158 AD.


Part Twenty: Gyalpo Purgyal Selbar I 'the Merry' (1158 to 1179 AD)

Selbar the First would be forever doomed by history as a brief interlude between the great reign of his mother and later Tibetan monarchs. Immediately forgotten, a transitional period to be abridged by impatient historians in search of more romantic figures. In fact the rotund, lumbering Selbar with steel grey mustache and his constant expression of faint bafflement would rule for over twenty years.

By the time his mother died Selbar was already forty and a married father. The new Gyalpo had enjoyed little public exposure during Pelmo's last years and both Christian and non-Christian alike were anxious to see what his stance on the great issue was. It was well known the monarch had spent his childhood as a pagan before converting at the behest of his mother. A slight majority of the great barons and the council had embraced the Nestorian faith but with the people as a whole Christianity was much a minority. Had he the interest Selbar certainly had the power to halt and reverse the Christianisation of Tibet.

Fortunately for the Christians Selbar had no such interest. His faith was sturdy and simple, like so much else about him. Fortunately for the non-Christians the Gyalpo proved tolerant of Bön, Buddhist and Taoist. The slow conversion of the kingdom continued without persecutions. The first, and almost the only significant religious act of Selbar's reign was to pay devotion to his mother. While Pelmo had lived many even of her admirers had held ambivalent views of the brilliant yet flawed queen. Now that she had passed to her eternal reward their enthusiasm was unflagging. The Tibetan bishops, the great majority converts themselves bombarded both monarch and patriarch with epistles about honoring Pelmo the Scholar. The Patriarch of the East was moved to beatify Pelmo, who was honoured in great ceremony at the Castle of Taktsé on 27 August 1159. It was an elaborate affair conducted by Bishop Gangkarwa, the Metropolitan of Ü-Tsang that blended both Christian and Bön themes where incense and Syriac hymns were mixed with traditional Tibetan chants and sand painted mandalas.

To some foreign observers, including the disdainful ambassadors of the Caliph the religious and cultural blending of the ceremony pointed to the religious confusion in Tibet and the quasi-Christian gloss cast over a pagan kingdom. Purgyal tolerance prevented the collapse of the realm but the Tibetan Rites Controversy would grip the Nestorian Church for a long time to come. Not that this bothered the Gyalpo unduly. Partly this was due to his tolerance for the rituals of his boyhood, but it has to be said he probably didn't understand the question facing theologians.


Blessed has Passed.jpg


The beatification of Gyelmo Pelmo, 1159 AD.

Selbar was not known for his wits. As a boy his tutors had despaired of ever teaching him literacy and numeracy and the beatings imposed had not endeared the adult to learning. It would not go to far to say Selbar held dark suspicions about all teachers and philosophers, those magicians with their strange words and stranger thoughts. The Gyalpo's preferred conversation were ribald sometimes cruel jokes and the companionship of his drinking cronies from his days as an active soldier. Together they'd hunt, eat and gamble. Outside this golden circle his interests and trusted companions were few.

For those of more refined tastes the locus of the court gradually became the Gyalpo's wife. Gyelmo Yiltïs was a Kirghiz princess who had converted to the Nestorian creed upon her marriage to Selbar. Her religion was sincere, and her loyalty to her husband true but the Gyelmo's first love had always been war. As a girl she had been trained in the art of horse riding, bow and sabre and had mastered them all. As a princess married to the heir to Tibet she had loyally served her new family in war, gaining a scar along her cheek that she considered a mark of pride. As capable as Yiltïs was as an individual warrior however it was as a strategist that she shone best. Her mind was constantly on the move, attacking problems and delays. She was never the official marshal of Ü-Tsang, but her leadership was much sought after.

Given their differences it was a minor miracle that Selbar and Yiltïs had any relationship at all beyond the formal. As one contemporary historian noted: '[Selbar] is happiest when his head is empty and his stomach full.' Three aspects united them. The first was their common faith; Selbar and Yiltïs were neither fanatics nor saints in waiting but they were both Christian believers and members of a still small and nervous community. The second aspect was the three children they shared - Pelmo (known as 'Little Pelmo' to distingush her from her famed grandmother), Selbar and Trimonyen. The last was a love of the hunt. For his forty third birthday the Gyelmo would provide her husband with a young hound that would later merit a statue in the Royal Gardens and perhaps provided him with more pleasure than the rest of his belongings together.

Yitlis.jpg


Gyelmo Yiltïs in 1158 AD.

Selbar had inherited a war with his crowns. Fortunately for him the fighting was already almost won and the new Archpriestess was forced to a humiliating peace. However victory brought no fresh territory, and the Gyalpo's sympathy for his Bön subjects forbade a sterner hand.

The great dream of the Purgyals was unifying Tibet under an imperial crown, and for all the aridness of his imagination Selbar was as prone to dream of that crown as his mother. It remained tantalisingly close to reality, but circumstances forced Selbar (or rather his council of ministers who handled diplomacy in his name) to move more slowly than he wished. The kingdoms surrounding Ü-Tsang had been shaken by the constant wars under Pelmo, and any grand wars of conquest would have been akin to throwing a random punch in a crowd in a rowdy drinking hall.

The most powerful potential enemy [1] was the Caliphate, but a near second and one that carried more weight in Taktsé was the Kingdom of Bihar, which had expanded across the whole of Northern India. The Maharaja ruled a sizeable portion of the Himalayas, territory that had once guarded Old Tibet. Reconquering such land would not only restore the formidable natural defences of the Tibetan Plateau, it would add all important legitimacy to the imperial claim. Unfortunately Bihar was a very strong power in her own right and Selbar's ministers were as one that such a war needed great care.

A more tempting target were those stubborn barons who continued to pay tribute to Jetsun and his heirs. These enclaves pebble dashed the realm, causing endless headaches for the government at Taktsé. Worse, several lords who did pay tribute to Selbar had relatives in the 'Kingdom of Punjab', leading to the possibility of their lands being inherited by these outsiders [2]. In the two decades of Selbar''s reign several wars saw these rebellious lordships conquered. Selbar was aided in this by a civil war in 'Punjab', that saw the crown contested by a new generation of Purgyals, among them them Purgyal Yon, a daughter of Jetsun who forces overthrew her own brother to take the throne even as she had ended up a prisoner of Selbar.

'Gyelmo Yon', then merely a princess had been captured by Selbar during one of the petty wars of the 1160s and she would spend nearly a decade in Taktsé. Nominally a monarch Yon and a close blood relation of Selbar, she was treated well, allowed to attend (Bön) religious services and provided with garments and fine tapestries to gild her apartments. In truth no one quite knew what to do with her. Selbar expressly claimed all the Tibetan Plateau but Yon was in little position to deliver any land to him; the 'Kingdom of Punjab' might have been hers in name but it was firmly in the hands of local grandees who would no doubt depose her the moment she attempted to negotiate with Selbar.

As the years passed with Ü-Tsang, and 'Punjab' at an impasse it was becoming clear that Selbar would not restore the empire. Old Tibet would have to wait for a new generation.


Yon the usurper.jpg


Gyelmo Yon 'the Usurper' of 'Punjab', 1175 AD.

To most outsiders Selbar was the Gyalpo of Ü-Tsang, a label foreigners were happy to apply to the whole realm. In Tibet nothing was ever simple and Selbar held three legally distinct crowns; Ü-Tsang proper, Guge and Kamarupa. All three entities were united in the person of Selbar, but that was a quirk of fate that had left him as sole living heir to his mother. With three living legitimate children of his own Selbar knew that his inheritance would have to be divided. The dream of a united Tibet would die with it - unless the law was altered.

Between 1166 and 1175 Selbar would be locked into a feud with his own Council over disinheriting his daughters in favour of his sole son Young Selbar. Young Selbar was a more attractive heir in many ways, being smarter than his older sister who had inherited her father's quality of mind. However even had he the brains and beauty of the average Yak Selbar would still have championed his son over his daughters because if the law favoured boys he could inherit everything.

The grandees of Ü-Tsang (and Guge and Kamarupa) were not fools. They could see that with the inheritance situation left unchecked the kingdom could fall apart. However a majority of the Royal Council stubbornly defended the rights of Little Pelmo. Some may have been driven by sentiment and others alienated by Selbar's oafish attempts at rhetoric, but it is clear than a few ambitious barons and bishops thought 'Pelmo II' would make a more easily manipulated ruler than 'Selbar II'. Also while most of the council may have held an abstract support for a unified Tibet that was not the same thing as a commitment to Selbar's vision. When Selbar first proposed changing the law in 1166 the Council voted five to two to reject his offer. It was a power the Council had held for generations but it was a rare and humiliating gesture to actually vote down a monarch's proposal.

Fortunately for the Gyalpo he had something better than a silver tongue: a full treasury. As pleas and then demands fell on deaf ears the monarch turned to the fine old art of bribery. Silver and gold were always welcome but other nobles would find themselves gifted with fine Chinese or Persian silks, prize horses or in at least one case a Chinese courtesan of great skill and renown. With the aid of Yiltïs (not a great speaker herself but more coherent with the arguments) Selbar would eventually persuade his court to prioritize male inheritance [3].

In the Autumn of 1179 Selbar was sixty two. His waistline, never trim had assumed such majestic proportions that riding a horse had become difficult. Hearing loss had turned the battle to understand what his council was saying into even more of a trial. This in turn seems to have increased his paranoia, with every glance and measured intake of breath by the servants provoking an explosion of questions and demands. That Summer the monarch had been persuaded to go on a tour of of the country as much because the royal household and the Council were weary of his ways than anything else. As a chest complaint in early November grew into something more serious, many in the Gyalpo's presence were less than distraught.

Selbar died in his bed on 10 November 1179, his reputation having predeceased him. Even a formidable character would have struggled as the son of Pelmo the Scholar and short of achieving that elusive Imperial title Selbar was fated to remain in her shadow. It hard to claim that his personality would ever have made for a great monarch. Yet for every small disappointment there were quiet accomplishments. Selbar passed a united realm to his son and had avoided a religious civil war or a clash with any of Ü-Tsang's more formidable neighbours. Under the circumstances he could have been far worse...

Borders 1179.jpg


Tibet & surrounding lands, November 1179 AD.
Footnotes:

[1] Relations with China were generally good enough they were not counted as a potential enemy.

[2] 'Punjab' was a relic title from the days when the Purgyals of Western Tibet had actually ruled parts of the Punjab proper. By the Twelfth Century the title had become unmoored from its geographical origin.

[3] In a grimly ironic note 'Little Pelmo' would not live to contest her disinheritance, dying of what was probably Camp Fever in 1175.
 
I do also think this woman will be a divisive historical figure...

Definitely. Probably by far the most divisive in this AAR, at least so far.

Boooo, Christians. Bring back Bön!

Heh. Well, in theory it could happen.

Oh my - can you imagine how views on her reign will rend historical studies in years hence? Think of how much ink will be spilled, how many pages scattered, how much hot air with erupt from irate lungs? Think of how easy it will be to demonstrate the study of historiagraphy, just by looking at the various historians and commentaries of this one monarch.

Who, beneath all the words and the vitriol remained and remains just what she always was: a woman placed by chance in a certain place, trying to live her life as any other would, making choices and decisions as they came to her, nothing more. A very human woman. And that is, I would argue from my future-alternative perspective, her greatest triumph.

Wow, very well put! :)

I can't really put it any better than that. Pelmo was a very interesting character to try to understand while I playing as her and then writing about her and I'm glad she left as vivid an impression on you as she did on me.

So, the Archpriestess declares Holy War and ends up in the stake? That's poetic justice!

Harsh but fair! ;)

I've been catching up on this over the last week but didn't want to post until I was up to date. Really great stuff, CK lends itself well to your 'history of people' style and you've painted a fascinating picture. I'll be totally honest I was surprised by your choice of country but you've really leaned into the cosmopolitan and (dare I say) 'exotic' flavour of a region and period that rarely gets a look in. As you mentioned yourself a couple of pages back, Tibet (and Central Asia) is not boring 'nowhere' but the crossroads of the known world, and all the cultural and religious mixtures that creates is a real unique treat.

Wow, thank you very much. I'm delighted you are enjoying this! :)

I have to admit I was nervous about taking this on - I mean most of what I knew about Tibet came from Tintin - but it has been a very interesting and enlightening experience. I'm just glad readers seem to be getting something out of it too.
 
I love this line:

Selbar died in his bed on 10 November 1179, his reputation having predeceased him.
 
A man whose faults still doesn't validate his entire reputation. After all, he did leave a United realm.
 
Like her or hate her, one can't deny that Pelmo has left her mark on Tibet, and perhaps in the long term Central Asia more generally. Selbar may not have had the same dramatic flair, but in their subtle way the events of his reign will also undoubtedly have repercussions in the future -- perhaps from his disgruntled disinherited daughters attempting to press their own claims or otherwise find ways to meddle in his own succession.

(Things like the out-of-place Punjab, incidentally, are why I always play with the De Jure Requirement rule on -- it will eventually destroy a title if the owner doesn't actually hold any land within the kingdom, which might be handy for situations like this.)
 
The man managed to leave no loose ends. Not that bad for a monarch.
 
It's funny, Pelmo will undoubtedly receive all the historical credit for Selbar's achievement of finally uniting the plateau. To be fair, she did the lion's share of the work. But she was also the sort of lion history so loves to hoist up, while Selbar's waistline makes him difficult to hoist, period. :D For a lackwit though, perhaps the less scrutiny of his reign the better...

I still love the feel of this AAR. Exotic, almost mystical, yet also personal. I fear I share the disappointment over Pelmo's conversion - I have never played Bon and loved the vicarious flavor - but with such a fascinating history unfolding, how could I set this aside? The dream of a restored Empire endures! And after... where will you look after?

Excellent work as always, looking forward to more!
 
Part Twenty One: Gyalpo Purgyal Selbar II 'the Cruel' (1179 to 1198 AD)
Selbar II.jpg


Gyalpo Purgyal Selbar II 'the Cruel' in 1179 AD.

Part Twenty One: Gyalpo Purgyal Selbar II 'the Cruel' (1179 to 1198 AD)


'Young Selbar' would overshadow his father much as Pelmo had her son, forever dooming Selbar I as the forgotten monarch lost in between the woman who built Tibet and the man who finally restored the empire. Though he failed to reach old age Selbar II would enjoy (or 'enjoy') a reign of dizzying swings between success and failure, good fortune and bad.

The second Selbar was far cleverer than the first, though his powerful intellect had not brought him much satisfaction. In person Selbar II was a perpetually anxious looking man, thin and fidgety with overly large eyes that seemed to constantly dance across the room. He was prone to sudden explosions of temper and cruelty but could be kind as the whim took him. The new monarch talked a mile a minute, often sliding from Tibetan to Chinese to Syriac in the same conversation with little care for the unfortunate courtier trying to keep up with him [1].

Poor relations between Purgyal monarchs and their mothers were all but traditional but that between Selbar and Yiltïs verged on the matricidal. The son had inherited his mother's formidable intellect but that did little to bond them. Instead rivalry had flared as Young Selbar had reached adulthood and Yiltïs realised her ascendancy over the boy's father would not last. Young Selbar, a frail and mercurial child had always been the outsider in his own home for all that his parents had battled for his future throne, terribly resenting his mother's sway with the Gyalpo, a game in which he felt himself treated as a pawn. As he entered his late teens the willful prince had forged his own court-in-waiting, determined to rid himself of Yiltïs's favourites with which she maneouvered her hard of thinking husband. By the time he took the throne himself in November 1179 Selbar II's relations with his mother had shattered irreparably and there were even rumours the twenty year old monarch had been behind an assassination attempt.

Strangely the greatest scandal around Yiltïs was the one her son refused to attack her on. The old Gyelmo had been raised in the Tengri faith of the steppes but in embracing civilisation she had embraced the Nestorian Church. By all accounts she was a conventionally pious Christian yet somewhere along the way things changed. Certain officials, servants and friends introduced her to the Old Bön ways, a path she followed secretly at first but all but openly by the time her son took the throne. These ultra-conservative pagans had enjoyed a resurgence with the decline of the old 'official' Bön hierarchy and though the outright conversion of Yiltïs represented an unheard of coup they had sympathisers among the grandees, Selbar II among them.

While he was willing to turn a blind eye to his mother's apostasy Selbar II was no unbeliever. The third Nestorian to rule Ü-Tsang would borrow a leaf from his grandmother and invoke overtly holy war. This time however it would not be against Bön but against Islam.


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The Maryul region (outlined in light blue) in 1185 AD.

The slow disintegration of the so-called 'Kingdom of Punjab' gathered pace in the last quarter of the Twelfth Century. Constant civil war had weakened the other Purgyal kingdom to the point that the Abbasid Caliphate - or at least powerful nobles of the Caliphate - had picked up the scent of blood on the wind. In the early 1180s the Muslims invaded and annexed the great western duchy of Maryul. This was unlikely to be part of any grand plan to conquer Tibet; Damascus was very much focused on the West and the Caliph was struggling to hold the vast domains he already ruled.

Selbar II was more than shrewd enough to see the Abbasids would not push further, at least in the short term. However the fear of them doing exactly that ran right through the Tibetan ruling class. Part of that fear was simply that Islam was poorly known in the Tibetan Plateau. This had not always been the case. During the days of the Old Tibetan Empire the emperors had allied with the Abbasids against the might of the Tangs. The collapse of the Old Empire and later the Tangs had changed everything. A fractured Tibet ceased to have a unified foreign policy and drew back from events outside the plateau, save for interaction with China, which under any dynasty was unavoidable. There were still Muslim merchants along the Silk Road but from the Ninth Century on they had been rivaled in number by Radhanite Jews and Nestorian Christians, groups which unlike the Muslims put down roots in Guge and Ü-Tsang [2]. For many in Ü-Tsang Islam was a hazily understood faith, though Jews and Christians tended to be better informed.

On paper the odds were not in favour of Ü-Tsang should it come to a war. Selbar II could perhaps count on twenty six thousand soldiers for a long campaign. A respectable and experienced army but the Caliph Sulayman IV could raise at least five times that. Still the gamble was tempting; the Gyalpo was not a great military strategist, but he didn't need to be. The Abbasids were tangled up in their own affairs and the sheer tyranny of distance would do much to defeat the Caliph's advantage in manpower. Maryul was culturally and historically part of the Kingdom of Guge and as Gyalpo of Guge Selbar II saw it as his rightful property.

On 24 February 1185 Selbar II declared war on the Abbasid's, invoking the Cross to add divine respectability to his claims, and to boost the prestige of the Nestorian Church to which he had attatched his star. Despite the size of the enemy ('trying to pluck a hair from a lion's tail' as one grandee termed it) a solid majority of the Council was behind the Gyalpo. His optimism had convinced them that Sulayman was beatable.

The Ü-Tsang-Abbasid War of 1185-1186 was unusual in that no great pitched battles were fought. Selbar II had been right and with the Caliph distracted in the West, the feared show of Abbasid arms never materialised. Instead throughout the nineteen months of fighting the Ü-Tsang forces fought siege after siege. One by one the cities of Pangong, Leh, Diskhit and Skadu fell Selbar's armies. There were losses to the Ü-Tsang forces; even at its best siege warfare was a filthy business and as the region was a high altitude desert food and water were hard to come by. To avoid the misery and boredom nobles in the besieging armies spent a great deal hunting ibex, gazelles and brown bears.

For the Abbasids sheltering behind their walls there was little that they could do beyond hurling insults and the odd arrow. The garrisons were thin in numbers and thinner in quality and with no history of loyalty to the Caliph among the civilians morale began low and dropped. The mostly Syrian and Persian officers longed for home, though they resisted dutifully until their food stores ran out. Then they surrendered.

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The end of the Ü-Tsang-Abbasid War, 6 September 1186 AD.

The war against the Abbasids was an anticlimax in practice but it was a towering achievement in legend. Selbar II had stood against the strongest ruler in the world and forced him to the peace table [3]. When the Abbasid envoys arrived in Taktsé in September 1186 to offer Sulayman's terms, the Gyalpo was already planning his next audacious move.

Like his father and his grandmother before him Selbar II dreamed of unifying Tibet permanently rather than as a a ramshackle collection of thrones. He had taken steps to build up his own grandeur even before the war, marrying a Zhao princess in 1179. Princess Wang Lize was the youngest sister of the Empress Zhangzong and a beautiful young woman. Unfortunately it turned out that this scion of the Middle Kingdom was a ferociously devout Taoist and deeply paranoid. Still Selbar's main ambition in the marriage had been to impress others; the marriage being unhappy was survivable.

With his stunning if smileless Imperial bride at his side and the ink drying on his treaty with the Caliph, Selbar II was finally ready to accomplish the impossible. On the evening of 6 September 1186 he declared himself 'Tsenpo' ("Emperor") of Tibet. The actual coronation in Taktsé Castle by the Metropolitan Bishop of Tibet would not be for some months as gold and silversmiths and silkworkers worked on the sumptuous imperial regelia but it was that declaration that mattered. For the first time since the death of Langdarma in 841 a monarch could claim in fact and deed to rule (almost) all Tibet.

Many later historians, including Tibetans who for one reason or another disdained Selbar's legacy, pointed out that Selbar II had simply codified what his father and grandmother had built. The Tibetan Empire (re-)born in 1186 was only slightly larger than the Ü-Tsang of Selbar I, and there were still areas of the Old Empire that lay outside the borders of Selbar's realm. Still, these complaints and those that mock the grandiose narrative of an Abbasid rout miss the point. Selbar had divined the correct measure of pragmatism and romance in conjuring an empire and most of the Tibetan people were happy to follow him.

The new Empire - Selbar preferred the term restored, stressing his descent from the old imperial line - was in many respects much the same as the triple kingdoms of Ü-Tsang, Guge and Kamarupa with all three crowns continuing to exist as legal entities. What Selbar had done was to create a new supreme monarchical office above the three crowns. This was the crucial point; the Tsenpo of Tibet was in 1186 the same person as the Gyalpos of Ü-Tsang, Guge and Kamarupa but theoretically they could be up to four separate individuals, with the three Gyalpos paying fealty to the Tsenpo. Additionally while the territory of the Tibetan Empire was currently identical to that of the three kingdoms it need not remain so.

If the legal and bureaucratic foundations of the Empire were still somewhat vague it would still be wrong to call the state simply a collection of feudal titles. There was a historic sense of a Tibetan national identity, and a broad cultural and linguistic link.

The years immediately after the coronation would prove the peak of Selbar's powers. In 1188 he lavishly entertained an embassy from the Western Protectorate, overawing his guests and creating a vivid impression in the Zhao Empire. The Chinese did not see Tibet as an equal - they saw no one as equal to the Middle Kingdom - but they did admire the wealth and power of Selbar's realm and saw it as a useful bulwark against the Abbasids to the West. With the influence of the Western Protectorate in decline the Tibetan Empire was becoming the gendarme of Central Asia.

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Nytari the Mystic, Selbar's much hated court sorcerer in 1190 AD.

Sadly this golden age was fleeting. Selbar's second decade on the throne was a time of constant re-occuring health crisis and foreign invasion. The Tsenpo had never been fantastically healthy but a near fatal bout of food poisoning in 1190 had seen him turn to the dubious attentions of Nytari, his court sorcerer. This strange mystic and magician was a highly unpopular figure at court among Christians and Non-Christians alike. His personality was unattractive and his creed some obscure and unsavoury heresy. Nevertheless his elixirs and spells did restore the Tsenpo to health (temporarily) so the Court was forced to endure the odious little charlatan.

Selbar was also faced with military troubles. The crisis began with a revolt by the Tangut ethnic minority in later 1191, followed by a Buddhist revolt a few months later and the declaration of a Bön Holy War for Guge in March 1192. Any of these would simply have been nuisances on their own but happening together they seemed a veritable God-given plague sent to torment Selbar for his sins. These suspicions would be all but confirmed when the Dulafid Sultanate invaded Western Tibet in 1194. The Sultan was a powerful Eastern vassal of the Caliph who would not in normal times have been able to challenge the Tibetan Empire on his own but was happy to take advantage of the distractions draining away Imperial strength.

Fortunately the Tibetan Empire was not so weak as all that. By the start of 1198 the Tangut and Buddhist rebels had been ruthlessly crushed, the Sultan pushed back out of Tibet and forced to sign a white peace and even the Bön crusaders checked after a few initial victories.

Tsenpo Selbar died on 13 January 1198 at the age of forty three. Nytari's spells had been unavailing against the last illness and the monarch had passed away in his bed lamenting everything he had left undone and cursing the names of his many enemies, living and dead. The imperial throne would now pass to sixteen year old Crown Prince Ngawang - a very different sort of man...


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The Tibetan Empire, January 1198 AD.

Footnotes:

[1] Syriac was the long established language of the Church of the East, though outside theological works or letters to their co-religionists abroad Tibetan Christians used their native languages.

[2] There was of course extensive sea trade between the Muslim kingdoms and the Far East but by definition that was remote from Ü-Tsang.

[3] Metaphorically; the Caliph remained in Damascus and sent envoys to Tibet.
 
I love this line:

Selbar died in his bed on 10 November 1179, his reputation having predeceased him.

Thank you, I admit I was pleased with it myself. :)

A man whose faults still doesn't validate his entire reputation. After all, he did leave a United realm.

That is a very fair point. While I wouldn't call him an impressive figure exactly not having the inheritance divided was a real achievement.

Like her or hate her, one can't deny that Pelmo has left her mark on Tibet, and perhaps in the long term Central Asia more generally. Selbar may not have had the same dramatic flair, but in their subtle way the events of his reign will also undoubtedly have repercussions in the future -- perhaps from his disgruntled disinherited daughters attempting to press their own claims or otherwise find ways to meddle in his own succession.

(Things like the out-of-place Punjab, incidentally, are why I always play with the De Jure Requirement rule on -- it will eventually destroy a title if the owner doesn't actually hold any land within the kingdom, which might be handy for situations like this.)

Selbar II (re-)founded the Tibetan Empire, Selbar I kept a ramshackle collection of titles together but yes Pelmo was and will probably remain the most significant ruler in Tibetan history.

i think I'll have to consider that De Jure Requirement in future!

The man managed to leave no loose ends. Not that bad for a monarch.

That's very true.

It's funny, Pelmo will undoubtedly receive all the historical credit for Selbar's achievement of finally uniting the plateau. To be fair, she did the lion's share of the work. But she was also the sort of lion history so loves to hoist up, while Selbar's waistline makes him difficult to hoist, period. :D For a lackwit though, perhaps the less scrutiny of his reign the better...

I still love the feel of this AAR. Exotic, almost mystical, yet also personal. I fear I share the disappointment over Pelmo's conversion - I have never played Bon and loved the vicarious flavor - but with such a fascinating history unfolding, how could I set this aside? The dream of a restored Empire endures! And after... where will you look after?

Excellent work as always, looking forward to more!

It's a very fair point about the conversion and I understand were you are coming from.

I think I always had a bit of difficulty with Bön partly because the reformation was decided without any input from me. I'm not even saying I would have done anything different but I do think I might have had much more of an emotional investment had I been the one doing the reforming rather than the Gyalpo of Guge. As for conversion opportunities while I do have a soft spot for the Nestorians there were several moments during my playthrough were a Jewish or even Taoist succession was possible.

Still there are still two hundred years plus left on this AAR so the final page on religion may yet be rewritten. :)
 
One is tempted to steal the line "the light that burns twice as bright... and you have burned so very brightly young Selbar"
 
All hail the Tesnpo! Long live the Emperor at the Roof of the World! :D

The critics notwithstanding, Selbar II's accomplishments are legitimate enough. Even if the conflict itself was anticlimactic, the very fact that Tibet had the confidence to challenge the might of the Caliphate (and the ability to succeed) is itself a sign of how potent the realm has become. Empires have certainly been founded on less sure foundations in the past.
 
An Emperor/Tsempo, at last! Selbar II reigned shortly, but as I understand it never lost a war. Not a reputation all rulers get. A worthy ruler indeed. :)