At the death of the recently restored Shahanshah Vandad, the ruling Bavandid dynasty was in a sorry state. Generations of inbreeding, in large part inspired by the incestuous practice of divine marriage, had seen fertility among the clan that had dropped noticeably. Indeed, the new soveriegn, Mehrzad, represented the last surviving male member of the dynasty – and by extension the last living inheritor of the blood of the Sasanians, and indeed of the tenth century Ziyarid liberators. Mehrzad’s connection to Vandad was fairly distant. They shared an ancestor in the mighty Gholam the Lionheart, with Vandad his illustrious predecessor’s grandson through his second son Gholam the Younger, and Mehrzad his great grandson through his treacherous eldest Naveed. Personally, Mehrzad followed a pattern that had become all to common among Iranian rulers – showing limited interest in directly controlling the affairs of state as he focussed on his true passions, spirituality and the state of the Zoroastrian faith.
The new Persia that emerged from the collapse of Mongol power was far more decentralised than the empire they had destroyed decades prior. The chaos of invasion, war and liberation had empowered local magnates and warlords to become the true force in the land with the Shahinshah serving as little more than a unifying figurehead. Among these squabbling notables two figures rose above the others. On one hand, the bandit king Sina Manuchihr, loomed over the realm from his sprawling dominion fixed along the Zagros mountains. Refusing the comforts of either a courtly life in New Ctesiphon or a regional palace of is own, he lived an itinerant lifestyle in a moving armed camp in the mountains. His warrior bands of Lurs and Kurds had not returned to their home after their victory over the Mongols, but instead enforced exacting tolls of those seeking transit through the mountains – frustrating the recovery of the international trade upon which the Persian economy had depended for centuries – while also occasionally raiding into the sedentary lands around. Despite his heroic status across much of the land, and his tremendous prestige and power over New Ctesiphon, he was despised by the traditional nobility. Their standard bearer was Kamran Koohdashtid, the Satrap of Fars. Having played both sides during the long war between the Persian rebels and the Ilkhanate during the previous decade, a typical stance of many Persian elites, Koohdashtid was the largest of the landholders in the Persian heartland east of the Zagros.
While internal rivalry simmer, Koohdashtid had little hope of challenging the power of the Zagros in the short term. Instead, he trained his eye eastward and would spearhead a dramatic expansion of his personal power in the decade after Vandad’s death. He began this spurt of military action with a campaign against the Omanis in Kerman in 1262, directly to the east of Fars itself. Omani rule in the region was still somewhat fragile, and quickly buckled as the Persian Zoroastrian local population rose up in support of Koohdashtid’s incursions. Between 1264 and 1269 he fought a longer, much bloodier and more testing, conflict against the Khorosan Khanate. The Mongols were a much diminished forced than they had been in the past, but nevertheless remained expert and brutal warriors. Koohdashtid was only able to successfully overcome them with the assistance of a number of allied lords in eastern Persia – allowing his to seize control of the western portions of the Khanate. Finally, in 1271 he completely his spate of conquests by taking control of the rich independent city of Herat. He was now, by some distance, the greatest landowner in the realm.
Not to be outdone, Manuchihr had plans for expansion of his own. The fall of the Ilkhanate had been a bitter blow to its sister state in Rum, which would enter a time of instability and decline from the middle of the century. One symptom of these troubles was the decision of the Mongol chiefs of Tabriz and Azerbaijan to break free and establish their independence from Ankara in 1269. Barely a year later, Manuchihr was leading a Persian army in the reconquest of the territories – which were far to weak to resist effectively.
While the initial conquest had been short and straightforward, the decision of what to do with the new territories would drive the recently liberated Persian empire into civil war. Manuchihr had promised to allow the Mazandaran Mongols, many of whom were kin with the recently supplanted chieftains, take seize lands for themselves under his overall suzerainty. However, after his Kurdish retainers started to establish themselves around Tabriz he turned his back on his Mongol allies. Enraged, the Mazandaranis went to war, briefly occupying Tabriz before being forced back by Manuchihr’s superior numbers. At this point, the Mongols turned towards Koohdashtid and the Persian nobility for aid, and the mighty Satrap was only to keen to oblige this call to arms. From 1270 through to 1272 factions grouped around to two great power brokers in the realm clashed in bitterly contested engagements across the northern provinces of the empire. Although neither side was able to gain a strategic advantage, in 1272 Manuchihr himself was captured on the field of battle by the Mongol Chief of Gilan. The bandit king was then sawn in two from his head downward, an execution that served as a striking example of the brutalisation Iranian society had undergone since Genghis Khan’s invasion. Without their leader, the armies of the Zagros lacked the cohesion to keep up the fight – with Manuchihr’s old territories being set upon and divided by ethnically Persian elites. It would be something of an irony that the victorious Koohdashtid failed to grant the Mazandaran Mongols the lands they had initially gone to war over – dolling them out to the families of Persian Satraps who had ruled prior to the Mongol invasion – with the Caspian Chiefs bought off with loot and gold.
In a period of religious change across the Persian world, Zoroastrianism was undergoing its own transition in the post-Mongol period. A renewed focus on the importance of tradition, culture and Iranian history took the form with a near obsession with the history and legacy of the Sassanian and Achaemenid empires – Iran’s heroic past. Aside from an explosion of literary interest in these subjects, perhaps the most visible imprint of this turn was the development of a strong culture of pilgrimage. Sites of ancient Persian history were restored, often at great expense, and drew pilgrims in their tens of thousands. One of the most impressive of the new pilgrimage sites was the fifth century Sassanian Kakhesasan palace in the province of Fars, with the Shahanshah himself travelled to on several occasions.
Accompanying this was a certain culturally chauvinist turn that featured great hostility to non-Iranian religions. Within Persia, this saw communities of Buddhist Mongols living outside of the Caspian region effectively destroyed in the face of popular violence and state repression – with most either fleeing to the east or to the safe haven of Mazandaran. Muslims meanwhile, face a new wave of legal restrictions on their activity – with permission to build new mosques and conduct certain professions revoked while new taxes were forced upon them.
While this militancy led to aggression against minorities within Persia itself, beyond the empire’s borders it encouraged popular revolt. In Alamut, a Buddhist Mongol ruler had held out against the rest of the region’s embrace of the Khurmatza faith and Persian rule. However in 1263 his realm was gripped by unrest as the local population rebelled against their liege. Incredibly, many thousands of pious peasants from the neighbouring provinces coursed over the border to join in the siege of the great fortress, despite neither lords nor the crown lifting a finger to aid them – successfully storming Alamut and slaughtering the Buddhist clique within its walls. A decade later, the Mobads of Sistan provoked a broad based revolt against the Indian conquerors of their homeland – expelling the Indians and swearing allegiance to Baghdad.
While Zoroastrianism had grown more attached to its historical and cultural roots, it was also a less monolithic theological force than it had been before the invasions. The power of the High Priesthood and the structures of the Zoroastrian church to enforce a strict orthodoxy had been critically undermined – as had been exemplified by the rise of Khurmatza in Mazandaran. This provided an opening for a revived interest in the ideas of Mazdakism. While Tullid Mazdakism, the like of which had inspired the Mazdaki Wars of the early twelfth century, had been driven near extinction in their aftermath – it survived among the Kurds, many of whom clung to its ideas of egalitarianism and decentralisation. With Kurds such a key component of Manuchihr’s armies that had defeated the Mongols in the war of liberation and assumed great influence for at least a decade thereafter, they had reintroduced many Persians to long forgotten ideas of Mazdak and Tuli, while painting them in an attractively patriotic light. For many, the anti-Mazdaki taboo was broken, From the middle of the century, a reformist faction of Mobads within the Zoroastrian church began to emerge with clear Mazdaki sympathies that the High Priesthood could not control.
From the 1260s the Rum Khanate began to fall apart. From the west it was beset by attacks from Christian Europe, in central and western Anatolia it struggled to counter a series of large Greek rebellions by both Orthodox Christians and Iconoclastic revolutionaries, in the south the Syrian Christian Seplid kingdom harried it and in the east it was pitted against the Kozar empire. By 1288, there was little left of the Khanate. The Kozars were themselves a strange and fascinating polity. Its origins lay in an eleventh century civil war in the Kingdom of Georgia that followed the extinction of the venerable line of the Bagrationi dynasty. Peace was brought to Georgia when the nobility offered the crown to the Khazar Khan, who accepted the offer – abandoning his Jewish religion in favour of Eastern Orthodox Christianity and taking on grandiose title of emperor, claiming to unify the Caucasian and Turkic peoples. The Kozars would go on to conquer most of the north Caucuses in the ensuing decades. In an intriguing further ingredient to their cultural mix, the Kozars also invited large numbers of Armenians fleeing Byzantine conquest and religious oppression to settle in their lands – with especially large communities emerging in Derbent and around the Sea of Azov.
Taking advantage of the power vacuum in the region, this strange Turko-Georgian-Armenian state in which the elites largely spoke Greek would establish itself as the dominant force in eastern Anatolia as the Rum Khanate contracted into an ever shrinking rump state. The Kozars also came into conflict with the Persians on a large scale for the first time during the Derbent war of 1281-1283, with local lords in the northern provinces capturing the strategic city of Derbent – that guarded the coastal route around the Caucuses – and repulsing Kozarian efforts to reclaim it.