Having been formed through a decade of fighting in the midst of the collapse of Seljuk power west and north of Persia, the 1140s provided Ta’mhas Qatwa’s nascent state with a period of peace and nation building. The Malik moved his capital from his native tribal territory around Samarra to the larger city of Mosul in the north. In a move etched with the symbolic rejection of the legacy of the Islamisation and Arabisation of the Middle East and anchoring of his own Syriac people in the traditions of the ancient peoples of Mesopotamia, Ta’mhas renamed the city Nineveh, adopting the title the name of ancient Assyrian metropolis whose ruins were not far from its successor.
During this time Mosul, Samarra and Kirkuk became magnets for two key groups of refugees – Syriac Christians and Jews. The instability of the first half of the twelfth century in the Middle East, the shock of the Khazar invasion, the rise of a Christian realm in Mesopotamia and, later in the century, the beginning of the Crusader era in earnest, turned Islamic opinion against religious minorities. For Christians, particularly Syriacs but also Armenians, the attraction of Ta’mhas’ statelet were obvious and they were welcomed keenly to settle. Asylum for Jews, who suffered ever harsher repression than their Christian counterparts as Turkic, Arab and Kurdish leaders accused them of collaborating with the Khazars, was a less obvious outcome of the emergence of a new Assyrian regime on the Tigris, but they were nonetheless welcomed in large numbers – swelling their numbers in the major cities and setting a historic precedent.
Together, these groups of refugees would help to stimulate a cultural and commercial flourishing, while Ta’mhas maintained a cosmopolitan court in Nineveh featuring Christian Assyrians and Armenians, Jews, and Muslim Arabs and Kurds. The emerging Mosul intelligentsia, following the interests of their patron, paid close attention to the question of Assyrian nationality, with Ta’mhas sponsoring the composition of an epic poem in the Aramean language that told the story of ancient Assyria and traced an unbroken historic lineage to his own state – the Melekh Katwa.
For all the cosmopolitanism in the cities, the Samarran state was tightly aligned with the Church of the East. Breaking a generations’ old taboo that had long forbidden any attempt to concert Muslims was from their faith, Syriac clerics embarked on proselyting campaigns among the realm’s large Islamic populations. As might have been expected, these efforts outraged communities and regional actors alike – leading to at an at times violent backlash, including the murder of Bishop Aggai of Deir near Kirkuk by a group of Kurdish tribesmen.
Undoubtedly the upturning of social hierarchies that had seen Muslims robbed of their historically privileged position was a source of torment and anger. It not only fuelled outbursts of popular violence, but also sinister scheming at court in Nineveh. There, Ta’mhas was the victim of an assassination attempt in 1147 as a palace slave brandished a knife and set upon the sovereign while he held court. The assailant was unable to badly injure his ruler, and was sent to the city’s dungeons for interrogation. To the horror of the Malik, the would-be killer was sprung from his captivity that very night by a Muslim cabal who subsequently fled to the Kurdish city of Irbil across the frontier. After the Zikri Kurdish Gholamid Emir refused his demands to return the conspirators to him, Ta’mhas readied his armies for war.
The Gholamids were an imposing foe with a larger and more religiously and ethnically unified realm than their Assyrian counterparts, while their territories surrounded Nineveh on three sides. Malik Ta’mhas therefore adopted a highly aggressive strategy. In his opening gambit, he marched east quickly from Nineveh, taking Irbil’s defenders by surprise, storming the city and brutally sacking it to neutralise it as a potential threat. He then swung westward to meet the largest part of the Kurdish army by the foot of Mount Sinjar where, in a tightly fought encounter, the Christians won the day. Although Samarra had gained a clear advantage, this was far from the end of the conflict as the Gholamid Emir rallied his pious tribesmen for holy war and sent a plea to his fellow Zikri Muslims in the Zagros mountains to send aid. These new sources of manpower could not wholly turn the tide against the Assyrians, but they nonetheless forced Ta’mhas to row back from ambitions to annex the entire Emirate. After four years of fighting, the two sides reached a peace in 1151 that saw Ta’mhas gain control of Sinjar, Irbil and Nisibis – a place of great spiritual importance to Nestorians as site of what was once one of the greatest centres of Syriac theology and scholarship.
The Malik’s triumph in his war against the Kurds greatly enhanced the stature of his realm across the region – leaving Ta’mhas in control of all northern Mesopotamia. Following this victory, he beseeched the Patriarch of the East, Hnanisho, the spiritual leader of the Church of the East, to establish a permanent residency at Nineveh. The Church’s Patriarchate had been based in Baghdad for centuries from the Arab conquest, but during the instability of the 1120s and 1130s had relocated to the Persian city of Isfahan. Promised lands, the resources to construct a new residency, security, proximity to the largest part of his flock, and a place at the seat of power of the world’s only Nestorian Christian state, Hnanisho accepted this offer and arrived in Nineveh in 1155. Not long after his arrival, Hnanisho would proclaim Ta’mhas as the King of Assyria.
Born in the last years of the eleventh century, the great Assyrian King continued to lead military campaigns from the front well into his sixties. In the years following his war against the Kurds, the broken Gholamid Emirated splintered into a series of petty tribal states that Assyria routinely waged war against throughout the late 1150s – absorbing them into their growing realm one by one. Then, in 1160, a dispute broke out with the Armenians. A fellow non-Chalcedonian Christian nation, the Armenians might have appeared to be natural allies of Assyria. Nonetheless, the two Kingdoms came to blows over Edessa – strategic, prosperous and ethnically Armenian, but for the Assyrians it was of profound spiritual significance. Edessa had been home to Saint Ephrem, the father of the Syriac Christian tradition and the founder of the theological schools of Edessa and Nisibis that had incubated the Church of the East. Guided by force of destiny, Ta’mhas went to war in 1160. Edessa itself was extremely well defended and, while the conflict dragged on for three years and featured a number of battles across the frontier, the war was dominated by the long running Assyrian siege of the city. The attacking army was ravaged by raids, disease and occasional hunger, yet never relented in their attacks. Finally, in 1163 the walls were breached and the elderly King entered the sacred city in jubilation. Having achieved yet another great victory on the field of battle, Ta’mhas, now sixty five years old, was already gravely ill and barely had the strength to mount his horse. He would never set eyes upon the banks of the Tigris again, remaining in Edessa for several more months in a steadily worsening condition before passing away, bequeathing an incredible legacy to his two sons Niv and Nahir.