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Part Thirty Five: Tsenpo Purgyal Selbar VIII 'the Great' (1396 to 1449 AD)
Selbar VIII.jpg


Tsenpo Selbar VIII in 1396 AD.

Part Thirty Five: Tsenpo Purgyal Selbar VIII 'the Great' (1396 to 1449 AD)


The eight Selbar to take the Tibetan throne resembled his father in shape more than character. The twisted spine, so evident in Selbar the Lionheart had been inherited by his son as were the dark eyes and leonine mane of hair falling back across his shoulders. There were certain similarities to their personalities, for Young Selbar was also given to kindness and religious tolerance, a man readily given to conversation. Those links only made the differences starker.

Selbar VIII was first and foremost a soldier and his long reign would be marked by some of the most important and bloody clashes Tibet had ever seen. From his youth he had practiced the skills of a warrior, swordsmanship and riding. Despite his physical misfortune he had stubbornly practiced until he was as strong and agile as any of his guards and for most of his rule he preferred the traditional lammelar armour of Tibet (byang bu'i khrab) to civilian robes of state. What made his skill in combat all the more striking was that he had been forced to learn the ways of combat anew after the loss of a hand in a strange business in his his early reign.

All Tibetans had a fascination with magic and Selbar was no exception. The Tsenpo was not an academic sorcerer like his ancestor Saint Selbar but he did seek out fascinating and strange individuals. When it was said that a hermit in Persia had learned the secret language of lions or a woman of Western China could read the mysteries of past and future in dreams the Tsenpo was always eager to learn more. A procession of astrologers, conjurers and talismancers arrived in Lhasa over the years. Many - most - were unceremoniously kicked out of the Imperial presence after being exposed as charlatans, for while Selbar passionately believed in magic he was no fool. It was in November 1405 that the most intriguing of all of these characters first arrived in Lhasa. She had been discovered, if that is the right word by Selbar's Marshal Devitara, and even among the bizarre individuals who paid court to the Tsenpo she would have stood out.


intriguing encounter.jpg


Youma the Fearless arrives in Lhasa, November 1405 AD.

Contemporary chroniclers universally insisted that Youma 'the Fearless' hailed from Africa but everything else about her, including why or how she ended up in Tibet remains an enigma. One theory holds that she was a mercenary of sorts who had served the Mansurids before finding herself moving ever East. Certainly by all accounts she was a formidable warrior, a trait that much impressed the solder monarch Selbar. Whatever her story this woman that 'seemed a living thing of steel and fire', and conducted herself before grand potentates as if she was the mistress and they the slave claimed to know secrets that had escaped the knowledge of the wisest of scholars. For more than half a year she would be the Tsenpo's companion, drawing him away from the court camarilla of officers that had hitherto been his social circle. Many courtiers felt uneasy about the tall, silent figure who strode down the corridors of the Tsenpo's palace sending monks and functionaries scurrying away like mice.

Matters came to a head in the July of 1406 when Lhasa lay drowsy under cloudless skies and the stench from the horse markets hammered at the door to every household like a barbarian invasion. The palace was an oasis of cool breezes thanks to its height and cunning design but even here the hard light made sleep impossible and the rooms deep within the heart of the building seemed to keep more than their usual secrets. At the command of Youma, Selbar had paid for an antelope to be captured and brought alive to Lhasa. Not one of the timid native Tibetan chiru, whose soft fine wool called shahtoosh had brought so much wealth to the Empire, but one of the wild and powerful breed of Persia.


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The misfortune which ended Selbar's attempts to seek immortality...

The gruesome incident that saw Selbar all but lose the use of his hand and Youma vanish from Lhasa for parts unknown has provided material for court gossips, dramatists, conspiracy theorists and even real historians ever since. Whatever really happened will probably never be fully revealed. Selbar did not win immortality, but nor did he allow his misfortune to set him back. Whether out of sheer stubborness or innate optimism the Tsenpo returned to his sword practice until he had quite recovered.

Selbar's determination to begin anew extended to more than just mastery of the blade. He was a changed man in other ways. Abandoning the mystical he turned to other ways to build a lasting legacy. He trained with his officers, which served him well in both wars with the Jin Empire [1] and still found time for the more peaceful business of the realm. A serious of great building projects were begun or completed during Selbar's reign including the completion of the glorious palace of Khotan with its golden throne, the founding of the nearby castle-town of Pishan and the steady progress on the Library of Lhasa.

Though the realm was at war with the Jin twice during Selbar's reign, and the Indian kingdom of Bihar and the usual parade of barbarian adventurers and zealots caused all too frequent nuisances the early decades of the Fifteenth Century was a time of prosperity for the Tibetan Empire. The system of viceroys had proven effective, so much so that another such title - Amdo - was created in the second half of Selbar's reign. With the exception of a foolish and easily defeated adventure by one of Selbar's cousin's to gain power in Guge by force the Tibetan nobility proved loyal and content.

The religious issue that had almost troubled Tibet for so long appeared to diminish during Selbar's reign. Though Selbar VII's war against Bari Suvrata had nothing to do with religion she had been a figurehead for the Tengrists of the Tibetan Empire. With her defeat and removal the fortunes of the Blue Sky faithful had waned and they never again wielded serious power. Selbar VIII followed the traditions of his family in being a practicing Christian while also being tolerant of pagans and 'Eastern' religions. On the one hand the Tsenpo was happy to give a sky burial to his father. On the other hand he invoked the Cross while at war with the Taoists of the Jin Empire. Much of this - very Tibetan - mixture of easy tolerance and pragmatism mixed with sincere piety reflected a certain self confidence. Christianity in Tibet was entering a golden age of art, culture and theology. By the end of Selbar's reign more than a quarter of Tibetans were Nestorians with the Western territories of Kashmir being a particular stronghold. These Christians tended to be more orthodox in belief than traditional Tibetan Christians, with many descended from converts from Islam and thus more used to simple monotheism. Though this definitely added spice to the theological debate among the Tibetan clergy there was still a general feeling of 'live and let live', buoyed by national prosperity.

Selbar's tolerant religious approach could be seen in his marriages. His first wife was a Muslim Karluk, Ötüken a sharp witted and strong willed nomadic princess who proved herself a canny general. After her death in battle in 1430 he married again to the Jewish Khazar royal Tura, a woman much admired for both her kindness and her cunning. Though the second marriage proved barren the first had produced two children and eventually a complicated inheritance.


Princess Kelzang.jpg


From an early age Princess Kelzang was the centre of her father's universe.

Princess Kelzang was born in 1399 and for many years it was supposed she would be Selbar's sole heir as over decade passed before Tsenmo Ötüken fell with child again. The young princess was clever and healthy and to the vast relief off all the family curse of a curved spine seemed to have missed her by entirely. The Tsenpo, who had a sentimental streak treasured his 'lone perfect pearl' and the heiresss presumptive grew up wanting for nothing from the best of tutors to rare clothes from China to exotic delicacies for every meal. The glorious Gardens of Taktsé had long housed a menagerie for the curiosity of the Imperial Family and Selbar gifted the young princess with a brace of trained hunting cheetah from Persia.

In 1411 the Tsenmo Ötüken fell pregnant. So long had passed since the last time that the palace of Khotan, where the Imperial Family was resident at the time, had no midwives in the empresses staff and the major domo of the palace had to send word to the city to find a woman skilled in the arts of caring for a mother to be. Late that year she gave birth to a son, Prince Thrikhyiding who per the law leapfrogged his twelve year old sister in the succession.

No one in Tibet at the time of the Crown Prince's birth could have foreseen that Selbar would live for almost four more decades. The fear at the time was that Thrikhyiding might inherit the throne while still a child. The obvious regent - once she herself came of age - would have been Princess Kelzang. Unfortunately there were already signs that the Princess would grow up to be a careless and spendthrift young woman. Though she had many fine qualities including a talent for military matters and a sense of justice and kindness from her father Kelzang was hopeless with money, not much better with diplomacy and easily bored with administration. Aware from birth that she was intelligent she had never bothered to improve her mind and endlessly spoiled by her father she was infamously proud. In her later years her taste for the luxuries of life would lead her to gluttony and drunkeness.


Thrikhyiding.jpg


Crown Prince Thrikhyiding as Viceroy of Amdo, 1432 AD.

Selbar was largely blind to his beloved daughter's flaws but perhaps out of a sense of time passing was harder on the young Crown Prince. Thrikhyiding was urged to excel in all things, even to the point of encouraging ambition and rivalry with his father. There was no deliberate policy of 'toughening up' the boy, and his education was more scholastic than soldierly to account for the changing status of Tibet. It was more that Selbar was unable to hide his own partiality towards his elder child while Thrikhyiding was all too aware of her flaws. The Tsenpo, awkwardly aware of the need to train his heir and of the rift in the Imperial Family (even if he was willfully blind to the cause) appointed the Crown Prince the Custodian of the Golden Palace of Kotan and Viceroy of Amdo in 1432. By any measure these were generous honours but to Thrikhyiding they spoke only of a desire to hustle him away from Lhasa and a father who seemed at a loss dealing with him.

Thrikhyiding found his feet in Amdo, where he married a Bön noblewoman and in time sired a son, inevitably another Selbar. Relations between Lhasa and the Crown Prince's capital of Jiuquan remained cool at best. Still nothing could prepare the Tibetan court for the premature death of the Crown Prince in 1436. The tale delivered by a messenger who'd ridden four horses to their deaths to reach Lhasa as fast as possible was a pathetic one. The Crown Prince had been out riding with some of his boon companions when his horse, a handsome beast of rich colour and dark temper was panicked by a snake underhoof. Thrikhyiding was thrown from his saddle and dashed his head against the rocks. It was over so swiftly that the Crown Prince's escort where still trying to hide their smiles at their master's misfortune when it dawned on them he was gone.

Crown Prince Thrikhyiding was twenty four when he died and left behind an infant son who became the new heir. The accident that had robbed the aging Selbar of his son struck the Tsenpo hard but it sent a shock through the Tibetan elite from more than just grief. With Selbar living into his seventies and his grandson a child a regency was looking very likely - and that meant Kelzang might rule after all...


Footnotes:

[1] Of which we shall hear more in the following chapter.
 
The surprisingly longevity of Selbar VIII means I am suddenly very close to the end of this game. In fact we're probably only three or four chapters away from the end. I fully intend to start a new AAR once this is done but I'll be sorry to close this game. It has been great and so have you with your comments, questions and ideas. :)


~~~~

The Byzantine Empire is proving to be exceedingly hard to put down.

Very and a Byzantine fan that makes me happy. :)

A wonderful update on the status of the world! I wonder, intending on converting to EU4? And if so, I'm curious how you might intend on drawing Tibet's eastern border. The fact that the Jin are in the ascendant makes it a bit complicated, but I could see Tibet holding part of what is typically thought of as China even so. The fact that there's the ambition to reach and exceed the Tibetan empire of old makes the Sichuan basin a tempting target, I'm sure.

Well, Francia certainly wasn't expected! I'd love to see a bit about Catherine the Confessor, as she sounds like she could have been quite the remarkable figure! And how curious, also, to have a German speaking branch of the ap Munso dynasty, too!

What a name! I wonder if that is actually part of the German namelist or if he inherited it from elsewhere. It sounds distinctly Baltic to me, were I to guess. I wonder, also, did the Karlings ever lose control over the Holy Roman Empire? Or has it been a string of princes from the line of Charlemagne?

This also surprises me! Did the Makedon dynasty not lose the throne? Regardless, glad to see Constantinople back under its rightful rulers, the Eastern Romans! A bit of a shame, though, that they decided to expand into Carpathia rather than retaking Anatolia. I guess they figured one mountainous plain was as good as another?

Some very interesting questions! :)

I am certainly considering taking this to EU IV, but I feel like that be more of a long term project. I feel like I want to try something different first.

I checked and amusingly Catherine the Confessor had the 'Cynical' trait. Obviously I don't know when the late empress picked it up but it does suggest many of her pious actions might have had a political rather than spiritual motivation!

There has been a lot of culture mixing among the ruling classes of Catholic Europe so I've noticed odd (to my ears) names cropping up. As for the Karlings the Welfs somehow held the imperial throne of Francia for three generations before it returned to the Karlings. Something odd happening there. :confused: Likewise I think the Makedons ended up regaining their throne after a gap.

Interesting to see the Byzantine fightback: I guess the Bosphorus frontier has replaced the Danube Frontier as the defensive strongline of the Romans. German-speaking Welsh dynasties are always fun; though the almost total disappearance of everyone else in Europe except the three blobs is a little sad.

Remarkable how much Catholicism has recovered from its earlier heretical disasters, too. And that the Shia haven't really taken advantage of the fall of the Caliphate earlier.

I much agree. Fewer blobs would be better. :(

The Catholic Church has bounced back remarkably well, which combined with the stability of the French and German empires means a transdimensional visitor from our Fourteenth Century might find Western Europe surprisingly familiar in cultural, religious and political terms. That was not something I would have foreseen earlier in the game!

As ever, pleased to see that Khazaria continues to endure :) Also surprised to see Eastern Rome has not only endured but reinvented itself somewhat, though I suppose they have a tradition of doing that periodically.

I have to admit to being curious about a couple outliers: The Orthodox pockets in the Russian far north, and the independent Bon enclaves on the steppes to the north of Tibet. What's the story behind those?

Meanwhile, the Khorasan / Karawan / Dulafid furball presents yet another good argument in favor of the Exclave Independence game rule, at least in my opinion.

The Orthodox pockets in 'Russia' are the Kingdom of Nenetsia, a surprisingly large and stable Nenet realm that is Orthodox Christian in religion, presumably via Roman missionary work, but pays tribute to the Holy Roman Emperor.

The Bon patches are tiny nomadic khanates converted either through intermarriage with the Tibetan aristocrats (similar to how Tengrism spread in Tibet) or missionary work by the now long gone Kingdom of Guge.

And yes some of the borders are a bit... o_O

Is that a vestigial Aquitaine in Ireland and Wales?

I also wonder how many men froze to death so that the Holy Roman Empire could tributarise that far north, Perm-adjacent, kingdom.

Also love that bit of the north-central steppe where it seems every county has a different ruler.

It is indeed Aquitaine. As I mentioned above the Holy Roman tributary is Nenetsia - and I also shudder to imagine the war that took!

Taoist Yabghu???

Blame the Western Protectorate!

I'm curious about the cultural makeup of this timeline.

Surprisingly conservative in some ways:

Cultural map.jpg
 
Unfortunately there were already signs that the Princess would grow up to be a careless and spendthrift young woman. Though she had many fine qualities including a talent for military matters and a sense of justice and kindness from her father Kelzang was hopeless with money, not much better with diplomacy and easily bored with administration. Aware from birth that she was intelligent she had never bothered to improve her mind and endlessly spoiled by her father she was infamously proud. In her later years her taste for the luxuries of life would lead her to gluttony and drunkeness.
<...>
Crown Prince Thrikhyiding was twenty four when he died and left behind an infant son who became the new heir. The accident that had robbed the aging Selbar of his son struck the Tsenpo hard but it sent a shock through the Tibetan elite from more than just grief. With Selbar living into his seventies and his grandson a child a regency was looking very likely - and that meant Kelzang might rule after all...
Well! That was a sudden turn of events! A shame, too, since the Crown Prince seemed to have been a fairly interesting fellow. I take it the young Selbar does not have a hunchback? I do get a certain "Richard the Second" vibe coming down the road here, where a young monarch turns out poorly, and an older relative may need to seize the throne...
I am certainly considering taking this to EU IV, but I feel like that be more of a long term project. I feel like I want to try something different first.
While of course it's up to you, I'd love to see it continued into EU4!
I checked and amusingly Catherine the Confessor had the 'Cynical' trait. Obviously I don't know when the late empress picked it up but it does suggest many of her pious actions might have had a political rather than spiritual motivation!
How interesting! I'd love to see her character profile :)
There has been a lot of culture mixing among the ruling classes of Catholic Europe so I've noticed odd (to my ears) names cropping up. As for the Karlings the Welfs somehow held the imperial throne of Francia for three generations before it returned to the Karlings. Something odd happening there. :confused: Likewise I think the Makedons ended up regaining their throne after a gap.
Ooh, yes! I do love me some Welfs! And if I might ask, who held the Byzantine throne during this gap in Macedonian rule?
 
Blame the Western Protectorate!

Surprisingly conservative in some ways:

index.php

Jurchen Yabghu???? :D

And why all the Selbar's? I'm getting a headache trying to remember which one's which.
 
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RIP "Thrikky"; we hardly knew ye :( Perhaps not an exceptional future ruler with a stat line like that, but he looks like he might have been a solid Tsenpo in his own right had he gotten the chance. (And my thoughts about the prospect of Yet Another Child Regency should go without saying.)

Selbar VIII may have failed in his quest to obtain true immortality, but its colorful cast and sordid end will have undoubtedly earned him a more metaphorical sort of immortality in the annals of Tibet's legendary mystics.
 
That regency threatens to be... interesting.
 
When all is said and done there are worse things to be than a devoted father.
 
Part Thirty Six: Tsenpo Purgyal Selbar VIII 'the Great' (1396 to 1449 AD) (cont.)
Protector General.jpg


Protector General Šigunai of the Jin Empire, April 1411 AD.

Part Thirty Six: Tsenpo Purgyal Selbar VIII 'the Great' (1396 to 1449 AD) (cont.)


Selbar VIII's great love was war. Throwing off the limits of his disability he had become a skilled rider and duelist and his mind, naturally sharp took readily to the study of warfare. His boon companions, mostly military officers were of similar feeling, as was his wife and even his daughter. Late in life the Tsenpo would even write a book on strategy, later translated (with debatable accuracy) as On Feudal Warfare.

The cornerstone of the Tibetan Empire was the Imperial Guard or the Snow Lion Guard - the Tsenpo's personal regiments. These wily fighters, drawn from the tough and strong minded villagers of the Himalayas were the men who regularly destroyed barbarian incursions drawn by the fabled wealth of the Empire. These professional permanent soldiers, primarily swift moving cavalry (the famed tamak) and light infantry with their swords and shields were supported by a much larger force of feudal levies called up in a serious war by the great barons of Tibet. Some were armed and armoured lightly, but wealthier Tibetans fought as fearsome heavy infantry or cavalry, clad in lammelar, chain or scale armour and wielding well made blades. Archery, though known in the Empire was always less of a factor in Tibetan Empire as were the exotic gunpowder weapons and rocketry used by the Chinese.

Selbar's father had been forced to disband the Chinese mercenary companies that had served Lhasa so well during the Fourteenth Century. The Jin Emperor believed (correctly) that the sellswords willing to take Tibetan gold and silver were mainly Han emigres, discontented with the Jurchen reign over their homeland. Perversely this concession, forced on the Tibetan Empire had found some quiet support among the grandees of Tibet. Though both had their place in real wars there was a sharp distinction between the career soldiers and officers of the standing army and the nobles. The barons had felt uneasy about the way soldiers could rise on pure merit and in that regard the mercenary captains were even worse than their Tibetan counterparts.

Relations between the Dragon and the Snow Lion had been poor for decades by the time Selbar took the throne and the Tsenpo took no steps to repair matters. The Western Protectorate was an aggressive neighbour and though the Silk Road made both Purgyal Tibet and Jin China many fortunes it was the scene of a hundred frustrations: accusations from merchants that one side or the other conspired with bandits, corruptly pocketed tolls and even spirited away the merchandise of caravans. It was best not to mention some claims in earshot of Selbar. The Tibetan monarch was not a man of dark passions but he was aware how often he had risked his own life in battling barbarians. The haughty Jurchen officials drove him to distraction. It was with such a pervasive feeling of ill-will that the Jin sent an envoy to Lhasa in August 1405 - though perhaps envoy is too polite a word.


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The Jin demand for tribute.

The Tibetan horses were among the finest in the world, coveted for centuries by kings and emperors. Not the largest or the most handsome they were fabled for endless resilience, their mighty lungs adapted to live on the roof of the world and their strong wills. The Tea-Horse Road that wound its way from China to India through Lhasa owed half its name to these wondorous steeds. In replying to the Jin the Tsenpo sent exactly one horse - a gelding with the emperor's envoy unharmed but tied naked to the saddle. It hardly needs stating but Tibetan merchants heading East and Chinese merchants heading West only found their troubles worsening after this incident.

The raw hostility between the two empires bubbled to the surface again in August 1407 when a Han noble by the name of Xu Yanruo sought refuge in Lhasa. The Xu family had angered the emperor in some arcane manner and Yanruo, the lone survivour appealed to Selbar for aid. The Tsenpo gladly gave it, partially out of innate kindness but partly it must be said because he foresaw war with the Jin. A man who had good information about the current state of the Middle Kingdom could name his price. The Xu business quickly reached the ears of the newly appointed Protector General Šigunai 'the Gentle'. At another time Šigunai might have enjoyed a good relationship with Selbar for the Jurchen administrator was more coin counter than a sabre rattling warlord. He was however the representative of the Son of Heaven and under instruction from Hangzhou he demanded the return of Xu Yanruo. Naturally Selbar refused and the Jurchens were left impotent as the Han nobleman enjoyed months of being wined and dined in Lhasa before departing for the West with the Tsenpo's blessings.

During Selbar's lifetime many believe the Tibetan sheltering of Xu Yanruo made war between Tibet and China inevitable. More recent historians, able to view matters through surviving Chinese accounts, believe the death of the Emperor Jinzong in May 1409 and the succession of his son Daizong to be the crucial point. The new emperor, who had grown up with stories of the Jin-Tibetan War of 1389 to 1391 and the young Daizong had gained a particular hatred of the old Bön faithful. No matter that the faith of most of the Tibetan elite was Nestorian Christianity, to many in China the Tibetan Empire remained a place of strange gods and demons. No wonder those treasonous Han flocked there! Daizong, gradually became convinced that Tibet was not only a hostile neighbouring state but an active source of evil.

In August 1410 the dam burst. The Protector General Šigunai sent a stiff letter to Lhasa informing Selbar that the Jin Empire was reclaiming it's 'rightful territory' of Jiuquan. Even before the Tsenpo had a chance to read the missive tens of thousands of Jin troops were on the march in the North East of the Tibetan Empire while their proxies, Muslim princes in tribute to the Dragon raided in the West. The Silk Road itself had become the avenue of armies.

Battle of Hexi.jpg


The First Battle of Hexi, 11 April 1411 AD.

Selbar and the rest of the Tibetans had been caught off guard by the abruptness with which the war began but the clash itself had been anticipated and dreaded for years. The Tibetans attempted to make an initial stand at the First Battle of Hexi in April 1411, but after a bloody trial of arms where they gave as good as they got were forced to withdraw. Even as the Tibetans retreated they had received word that the city of Jiuquan herself, the gates to the Silk Road had fallen to the Jin. Assuming personal command Selbar rallied his forces at struck again. Three months after the first clash the Second Battle of Hexi saw the Tibetans hold numerical superiority over the Jin (who had split their forces). The result was a Tibetan triumph.

Unfortunately Second Hexi and the Tibetan victory at the Silk Road city of Dongshuwo (1 October 1411) changed little. With equal or better odds a Tibetan field army was easily capable of defeating a Jin force. What it could not do was defeat every Jin force simultaneously. The enemy had used their numbers to besiege and take many towns in the far North of Tibet of which Jiuquan was but the most important. Any one lost town was survivable but taken together they wore away at the Tibetan resolve. The day the enemy was defeated at Dongshuwo the city of Turfan, one of the most far flung bastions of Tibetan authority surrendered to the Jin. With the coldest part of the year approaching and the prospect of besieging cities one by one with his field army while the Jin ran rampant Selbar was reluctantly forced to terms.

The Peace of Jiuquan, negotiated in November 1411 was clearly a defeat for the Tibetan Empire. Selbar had to relinquish the city of Jiuquan to the Jin, creating a rift between the Tibetan Empire proper and her territories beyond the Tarim Basin. For the Jin it was obviously a triumph; a rival had been visibly humiliated, a rich city and her surroundings annexed and Chinese merchants could enjoy an unbroken trek along the Silk Road into the territory of the Western Protectorate without fear of the tolls imposed by Lhasa. And yet...

In the war of 1389 the Jin had been able to marshal a reinforcement army of more than a hundred and thirty thousand troops from the heart of the Middle Kingdom. The Jin forces of a generation later were still formidable but the sheer numbers involved had dwindled greatly. The truth was the Jin Golden Age had faded even before Daizong took the throne. During the years of peace and prosperity that had held for most of the Fourteenth Century the Han majority had been quiet under Jurchen rule, save for those malcontents who preferred exile in the West. In the last decade of the old century the Jin had seen their fortunes change. Border conflicts with barbarian tribes envious of Jurchen success, floods, famines. Nothing to threaten the stability of the Middle Kingdom, but enough to drain away soldiers and treasure. By the time Jinzong had died the Jin frontier army had lost many of its finest keep watch over potentially restless cities. More, especially among the young and ambitious lost their lives in the bloody war against the Tibetans. In the years ahead the Jin would bitterly mourn the loss of so many skilled and confident future leaders.

Jin Civil War.jpg


China erupts into civil war, January 1428 AD.

For Selbar the years after the Second Jin-Tibetan war were days of rebuilding, caution and hope. The Tibetans were faced with the usual barbarian scum raiding their territory, religious and peasant turmoil and even from 1424 to 1426 an invasion by the Maharajah of Bihar looking to reverse decades of Tibetan advance into his lands. All these foes were easily defeated, finding to their cost that the Tibetan Empire had not been permanently humbled. From Lhasa Selbar kept watch on events in the East, knowing in the very marrow of his bones that the age of Jurchen superiority was rapidly fading. And he didn't have to rely on his gut either - the Tsenpo had spies in the court of his rival emperor. China was full of malcontents.

By the mid-1420s whatever prestige Daizong had won with the Peace of Jiuquan had dribbled away like wine from a cracked jar. The Son of Heaven was weak and fickle, playing favourites and alienating not only the Han but even some Jurchen grandees who had suffered in the games of court politics. Then in January 1428, with China groaning under a hard Winter and the execution of a particularly popular courtier discontent boiled over.

The Chinese civil war that saw the collapse of the Jin and the rise of the native Han Qin Dynasty lies beyond the scope of this history. Suffice to say Selbar saw the weakness of the Jurchens and made his play. Overruling the more fossilised or fatalistic of the barons he began recruiting Han mercenaries once again to stiffen his own armies. In April he went to war, invoking the spirit of cross and country against the Taoist Jin.

At the Battle of Dêrlênka (9 December 1428) one of the largest Tibetan armies ever assembled crushed a Jin army. The Tibetan cavalry, sweeping in a flanking attack across the frozen Bayin River was upon the enemy camp almost before they knew what was happening. The morale of the enemy army collapsed and over a third of the Chinese fell to Tibetan swords and lances before the ragged Jin forces managed to retreat. It was a pattern to be repeated across the Western Protectorate over the following three years. The Jin, their numbers shriveled by demands in the heart of China still had an overall numerical superiority against Selbar, but that counted for little when their armies were scattered and they had lost and never quite regained the initiative.

Battle of Suzhou.jpg


The Battle of Suzhou, 27/28 January 1430 AD.

The Battle of Suzhou (27/28 January 1430) saw the closest thing to a 'fair' fight during the war. The Jin, dragging almost every man available who could heft a spear or level a bow from garrison duty had conjured a strong army three quarters that of the Tibetan force. The clash came about as the Tibetans were on the verge of retaking Jiuquan and a desperate Jurchen horse charge temporaily broke through the Tibetan lines and routed the left flank. The Tsenmo herself, the sixty two year Ötüken was mortally wounded trying to halt the retreat, hauled from her sword by Jurchen sabres. By the time Selbar, leading the van of the army recovered the day and chased the ragged Jurchens from the field his wife was dead. 'A hundred captured Chinese banners escorted her body home,' as one contemporary chronicler wrote. For generations after Chinese silks and gongs captured during the war would find pride of place in Lhasa - talismans of a slain Dragon.

The last gasp of the Jurchens in the war was the so called Shield of Dunhuang, the immense line of fortifications protecting the capital of the Western Protectorate. Dunhuang, a strong and rich oasis city in the shadow of the famed Ming Sha Shan [1] had been a center for Chinese control for centuries and was felt to be untakable. Unfortunately for the Jurchens Selbar was determined to prove that theory wrong and with the aid of Han mercenary engineers foaming at the mouth to defeat the Jin the Tsenpo meticulously took every Jurchen city east of Dunhuang before remorselessly besieging the Protector General's seat. By the time she fell in late 1431 the Jin were begging for a peace.

It had come at severe cost, both in gold and lives but Selbar the Great had broken the strength of the Jin in the West. By the time he died in 1449 the Tibetan Empire had a secure peace with the newly enthroned Qin Dynasty and was the unchallenged warden of the Silk Road.


Tibet 1449.jpg


The Tibetan Empire in 1449 AD.

Footnotes:

[1] 'The Singing Sand Dunes', so called for the eerie sound of music they seemed to make when the desert winds blew upon them.

 
Well! That was a sudden turn of events! A shame, too, since the Crown Prince seemed to have been a fairly interesting fellow. I take it the young Selbar does not have a hunchback? I do get a certain "Richard the Second" vibe coming down the road here, where a young monarch turns out poorly, and an older relative may need to seize the throne...

While of course it's up to you, I'd love to see it continued into EU4!

How interesting! I'd love to see her character profile :)

Ooh, yes! I do love me some Welfs! And if I might ask, who held the Byzantine throne during this gap in Macedonian rule?

Neither the young Selbar nor his unfortunate father were hunchbacked. Fortunately that trait seems to have vanished with the new generations! :) Also it is funny you mention Richard II as I have just read a book on the Black Prince.

Here is Catherine the Confessor's sheet:

Catherine the Confessor.jpg


As for the 'Byzantine' (Roman!) throne it was properly elective and held by various families but the Makedons have held it the most consistently.

Jurchen Yabghu???? :D

And why all the Selbar's? I'm getting a headache trying to remember which one's which.

Bad luck. Seriously, every time I got an emperor or crown prince with a different name they died young and thus never had a chance to give their name stature. I should have been playing as Tsenpo Thrikhyiding at this point but he died before his father so another Selbar. :(

RIP "Thrikky"; we hardly knew ye :( Perhaps not an exceptional future ruler with a stat line like that, but he looks like he might have been a solid Tsenpo in his own right had he gotten the chance. (And my thoughts about the prospect of Yet Another Child Regency should go without saying.)

Selbar VIII may have failed in his quest to obtain true immortality, but its colorful cast and sordid end will have undoubtedly earned him a more metaphorical sort of immortality in the annals of Tibet's legendary mystics.

Very true, and I think in some ways that might have given him solace.

As for poor "Thrikky", in his defence his attributes would have improved thanks to the various artifacts and bonuses from the wonders.

Are you at least going to finish out the regency?

Yep. it ends before the end of the game.

That regency threatens to be... interesting.

Heh, well possibly but still quite short!

When all is said and done there are worse things to be than a devoted father.

Very true. :)
 
A truly titanic series of clashes on the roof of the world. But the Dragon is, at last, humbled.
 
Great victory! I hope you can wipe the western protectorate from the visible map before the game ends :)
 
Even the mightiest Dragon can be humbled when its wings are caught in a thorn bush. Selbar did well, avenging Tibet's previous defeats and proving to his subjects that Chinese soldiers aren't invincible after all. (Let's not mention the fact, of course, that many of his soldiers were also Chinese...)
 
An Oriental Saint George? Selbar "Dragonslayer" would be a better nickname.
 
So we're closing in on the end. That is too bad, as I've really enjoyed this story. :( But then again, all good things has to end at some point.
 
I managed to miss a few of these updates, so I’m glad to see it’s still updating! Really loving the continuing religious turmoil and newer conflicts with China. I hope to one day see a Tibetan on the Chinese Throne.
 
Just checking in and it’s incredible to see how formidable Tibet has become! Nowhere near caught up (in all honesty, it’s got the point where I’m no longer certain where exactly I last left off...) but looking forward to following along again as this epic draws to a close. :)
 
Part Thirty Seven: Princess Purgyal Kelzang (1449 to 1452 AD)
Princess Kelzang the Regent.jpg


Princess Kelzang, Regent of Tibet, 1449 AD.

Part Thirty Seven: Princess Purgyal Kelzang (1449 to 1452 AD)


At the death of Selbar the Great a few grandees had suggested that the new Tsenpo's mother Princess Bari Lasya of Kamarupa serve as Regent. That suggested died as soon it was uttered for Lasya was simply unacceptable in any number of ways - a Bön hardliner famed for her lesbian love affairs with other men's wives, a fearsome temper and by far the worst a dull mind. The only true choice was the one Selbar the Great had proposed decades before, Princess Kelzang.

In some ways Princess Kelzang of Tibet would have made a fine empress. She was intelligent and well schooled in military matters. Like her father she was kind and religiously tolerant and her personal court in operation during the years between the death of her brother and her father was renowned as a place welcome to all shades of belief and practice. In her personal dealings she was never less than just. Unfortunately the same woman who mixed all these virtues was famous for her vices. Despite an expensive education with tutors from as farflung lands as China, India and Persia the Princess had remained immune to a love of reading that was so common to her family. Unlike Princess Lasya with her empty head Princess Kelzang was clever but intellectually lazy. Save for military adventures and heroic tales book bored her to tears. What she far preferred were parties and banquets, vast affairs filled with every imaginable entertainer and luxury dish, all watered with exotic ales, spirits and wines. Ambassadors who had the opportunity to observe the Princess frequently struggled to put to words the scale of the bacchanals they had witnessed.

By the time she became Regent Kelzang was in her late forties, a long and happy widowhood stretching behind her. She was tall and if not exceptionally beautiful even in her youth had high cheekbones and large eyes and kept a trim figure despite every spiced or sugared luxury her army of servants provided. Her entire life Kelzang had been ferociously proud; proud of her father and her bloodline, proud of her country, proud of her faith, proud of herself. The same woman who without a moment's hesitation would give and a gold and silk cloak from her back to a soldier shivering from the cold after a dawn watch had been known to slap a grandee of Tibet hard across the face for a perceived slight to her dignity.

The most worrying trait of the new Regent and the one that gave the Imperial Council nightmares was her famed spendthrift ways. Princess Kelzang spent small fortunes on her everyday expenses. She emptied treasuries for special occasions. It was commonly felt that the reason her father had never made her a vicerine despite his favouritism in so many other ways was because she would have bankrupted any government she ran.

Fortunately for the Tibetans the finances of the Empire were excellent shape and with a tentative peace with the new Qin Dynasty in China the Silk Road and the Tea-Horse Road brought in enough gold and silver that even Kelzang made little dent in the Imperial Treasury. The Regent, though born in Lhasa much preferred 'Khotan the Golden', that precious stone that shone in the desert road and after a perfunctory visit to Lhasa decamped to the Northern capital and the delights of the finest palace between Damascus and Hangzhou. The Imperial Council was largely left to it's own devices, much to its relief.

Kelzang was officially at least the guardian of her nephew Selbar IX. The chasm in age and experience between the two - Kelzang was thirty five years older than Selbar and had an adult son of her own - had promised to make matters difficult but young Selbar, a shrewd and energetic child much admired his aunt's fondness for stories of war and honour. The boy monarch, like his father the late Crown Prince (and indeed Kelzang) had avoided the curse of a bent back, which some attributed to a sign of divine favour returning to the family after the trials brought about by the Apostasy of Tsenpo Khonnu.

The improving relations between Tibet and China had been taken as another sign of God's mercy by the Nestorians of the Orient. The ancient Christian communities of China had never enjoyed the prestige and wealth that their brothers in Tibet had experienced for most of the Second Empire, though in terms of sheer numbers they rivaled the Church of the East in Lhasa - in the vast Middle Kingdom even a 'minor' faith might have many thousands of devotees. Many pilgrims mixed with the merchants along the Silk Road on their epic journey's through Persia and Syria to the Holy Land. Oddly in some respects the Chinese Church of the East could be more 'orthodox' than the Tibetans. Centuries of intermittent persecution had left them seeking refuge among their own while the Tibetans had experienced a more open society but also found themselves adapting (or adopting) local beliefs. The theological mix made for earnest debates (and the occasional thrown fist) in the churches and market squares in the oasis cities that peppered the Silk Road.

Messalian revolt.jpg


The Messalian revolt of 1451 AD.

One belief that gnawed away at the tolerance of even the most liberal Nestorian was the Messalian heresy. The forbidden strain had been all but eradicated once before but seemed to rise like a hideous parody of Lazarus. The Tibetan bishops where as one in their condemnation of the creed but there was little enough they could do beyond denounce the practices of the the heretical preachers. The great strength and the great weakness of the Tibetan Church had always been its flexibility where conservatives and liberals carefully ignored each other to present a united front in a pagan majority country. This had become harder over the past century as many Muslim areas had been brought into the Empire and subsequently adopted a more orthodox form of Nestorianism but the truce just about held. Unfortunately it meant that the Tibetan clergy were unable and unwilling to react more strongly to scoundrels and malcontents - what made the Messalians so beyond the pale when the practice of magic (a keen interest of many 'liberal' Nestorians) was a topic politely avoided?

The Imperial Family was in an delicate situation. The Regent was a fairly conventional 'liberal' Tibetan Nestorian but her son known as Selbar of Khotan was a zealot. His was an arid faith, blessed as he was with a mind so narrow it was a miracle he could don a hat. Kelzang's son was also curiously ill-read even in theological matters, all his opinions and frankly most his thoughts coming from conversations with friends (which he had many - if nothing else Selbar of Khotan was congenial company if one was neither heathen nor heretic.) When a Messalian preacher by the name of Phagpa, a disgraced former monk who had once murdered a brother in a fit of rage led a revolt in Gê'gyai in April 1451 the Regent had to gently dissuade her son from leading the army himself. Aside from the fact he'd be more danger to himself than to the enemy if given a sword many of the officers and most of the men were Bön and the command tent would not have been a happy place for those discussions. Both Selbars would remain safely at home during the rebellion [1].

On campaign the Regent cut a different figure from the sybarite of Khotan. In the very early days of the Regency a Buddhist revolt in the far South of Tibet had been crushed by local commanders with their levies but Princess Kelzang was spurred on to destroy the Messalians in person. The fifty year old Regent rode out in full ceremonial armour, all gleaming lammelar and chain beautifully decorated with the insignia of her family. The Imperial Guard marched under silk banners depicting the omnipresent Snow Lion, the age old symbol of the Tibetan Empire to which Kelzang had added (for her personal guard), a prone dragon beneath the lion's paws.

The army was well provisioned and equipped but the countless trappings of peacetime that were so beloved by Princess Kelzang - fashionable dresses and jewelry, her personal menagerie of exotic beasts from Persia and India, her countless servants and handmaidens and above all the luxuries of the banquet - vanished in the dust of a military march. Kelzang loved the gilded life of a Tibetan monarch but she loved being a warrior queen even more. The one concession to her conventional life was that she insisted on bringing along her tame astrologer, and that was simply common sense.

The heretics made their stand at Kyunglung, a place of ruins so ancient few could even guess their purpose and said to be haunted by the ghosts of dead Bonpos. It was also famous for the many caves that dominated the region and Phagpa may have thought to retreat his followers there should the battle turn against him. Unfortunately (for him) the Regent knew all the old tricks of Tibetan warfare and the crack infantry and cavalry under her command were behind the disorganised rebels before they new, looming like demons out of the dusk. Within a brace of hours it was all over, most of the heretics were dead or scattered and Phagpa was dragged back in chains to Khotan to be hanged. In a dark way the would be theocrat of Tibet had made the job of State and Church easier for few would shed tears if hard methods were taken against a region known to harbour actual traitors.

Princess Kelzang might once have hoped to hold the crown herself, or at least lead Tibet to victory in a foreign war but as she returned in triumph to Khotan she could reflect that she had done well enough. Her nephew was growing up fast and in the new year the Regent and her court abandoned Khotan for Lhasa. They were joined by a steady stream of grandees and clergy all making their way to the capital of the Tibetan Empire. On 19 March 1452 Selbar IX was to to turn sixteen and be formally crowned, ending the Regency and officially beginning his personal rule.


Selbar IX .jpg


Tsenpo Selbar IX of Tibet, 1452 AD.

By chance a Chinese Nestorian named Zhang Chong was travelling through Tibet in those days, bound for far Damascus and the seat of the Patriarch. Chong, a wealthy horse merchant was in Lhasa for the coronation and kept an account of events that survived, much to the delight of historians. Though he could be caustic about Tibet - he was dismayed about the influences of paganism on his native Nestorian friends and shocked at the presence of Bön priests chanting spells of good fortune to heathen gods in honour of their emperor - it is hard to miss his admiration of the country and the people:

'The bod pa [2] are the most civilised of the barbarians, the greatest and the most noble, both for their proximity to the Middle Kingdom and for their embrace of the Jǐng jiào [3]. At the day the emperor of the barbarians assumed his manhood I attended prayers with my hosts, offering thanks to the True Lord and praying that he protect Selbar who was known to be a noble and truthful prince. I witnessed the young man ride through the streets in a great procession attended by dancers, singers, warriors, priests and magicians and men carrying the banners of the cursed Jurchens may their ancestors curse them for a thousand years! He had the face and manner of a great prince and he wore robes and coral jewelry of such beauty I had not suspected any barbarian could make. By his side road the Regent, a woman in her later years, tall and barbarous even for a foreigner but not unhandsome in appearance and so commanding in presence that the credulous peasants might take her for a godling or dragon in human guise... and all around me were the scent of incense in the air and the babble of half a hundred languages and it seemed as if all the peoples between China and the westernmost seas had come to cheer and gaze upon the bod pa emperor.

That at least is how it was in Lhasa that day.'
Zhang Chong remained in in the kingdom in the clouds until the end of the year before departing for his long journey West. Though he wrote of Persia and Syria he did not return to China for many years, so the later story of young Tsenpo Selbar IX and of Tibet herself, would have to fall to other chroniclers...

THE END

Game Over.jpg




Footnotes:

[1] Selbar of Khotan would appointed Viceroy of Amdo in 1452 by the newly crowned Tsenpo Selbar IX, a move universally seen as a reward for Princess Kelzang.

[2] Tibetans.

[3] Literally "bright teaching" - Nestorian Christianity. Chinese Christians of this period referred to God as Zhēnzhǔ (literally "Veritable Majesty," "True Lord," or "Lord of Truth.")
 
So this AAR is officially over. :)

This has been a truly epic experience and I'd like to thank everyone who read and commented. You made this such a great experience! I can't claim the game always in the direction I wanted and there are a few decisions I would have made differently but over all I'm happy with this story. It was amazing getting to experience the majesty, intrigue and, well, different feel of Medieval Tibet with you folks!

I fully intend to start a new AAR soon. While I intend to return to TIbet at some point I think I need to try something a bit different to recharge my batteries. While EU IV and Victoria 2 are tempting as is Rome at the moment I am looking at the night sky and thinking maybe Stellaris.

~~~~~

A truly titanic series of clashes on the roof of the world. But the Dragon is, at last, humbled.

Truly the closing of a chapter there. :)

Great victory! I hope you can wipe the western protectorate from the visible map before the game ends :)

Er... that might have been a little optimistic the three years I had left on the game. ;)

Even the mightiest Dragon can be humbled when its wings are caught in a thorn bush. Selbar did well, avenging Tibet's previous defeats and proving to his subjects that Chinese soldiers aren't invincible after all. (Let's not mention the fact, of course, that many of his soldiers were also Chinese...)

Well said! :)

While the timing was a little awkward - had Selbar the Great held on a little longer he would have been a fine ruler to close the game on, it was satisfying humbling China!

An Oriental Saint George? Selbar "Dragonslayer" would be a better nickname.

Heh! :D Perhaps, though that might have made the subsquent restoration of diplomatic relations tricky!

So we're closing in on the end. That is too bad, as I've really enjoyed this story. :( But then again, all good things has to end at some point.

True, and I'm sorry to see it end too. I am however already thinking of the next AAR... :)

I managed to miss a few of these updates, so I’m glad to see it’s still updating! Really loving the continuing religious turmoil and newer conflicts with China. I hope to one day see a Tibetan on the Chinese Throne.

Alas the game ended before that happened. Still, perhaps I'll write a sequel someday. :)

Just checking in and it’s incredible to see how formidable Tibet has become! Nowhere near caught up (in all honesty, it’s got the point where I’m no longer certain where exactly I last left off...) but looking forward to following along again as this epic draws to a close. :)

Great to hear from you again and I hope you find the latter entries live up to your memories! :)
 
A truly titanic work. Congratulations on seeing it through until the end! I’ll look forward to going back and reading the last chapters over the coming days and weeks. :)

and as always, very interested to see what you have in store for us next!