Intro
It was
not uncommon for political and military leaders of the Seljuk Turks, during the 11th and 12th
Centuries CE, to wake up to a surprise: a dagger, firmly planted on the floor next to
their bed. Despite the fortress walls, the bolted doors
and the armed guards, somebody had entered their bedroom and left a note – do as you
are told, or the next time the dagger will be planted into your chest. But sometimes, no warning was given. The merciless blade would find its way into
the heart, or the throat, of its target. Intimidation and targeted killings of high
profile victims became their hallmark tactics, in a protracted and often desperate fight
against a powerful invader. They became known as the Assassins, the loyal
followers and guardians to the founder and leader of their movement: Hasan Sabbah. A foreword
Hasan and his followers emerged in a confusing and murky period of political, ethnic and
religious strife in Persia and the Middle East. A period in which different Muslim factions
fought each other and against the European Crusaders. No wonder then, that the history emerging
from that period is shrouded in myth, legend and propaganda. Who were exactly the Assassins and what was
their agenda? What was their relationship with the Knights
Templar? Who was the mysterious Old Man of the Mountain? Today, I will try to clear these, and other
questions by narrating Hasan’s life. But first: how did the Assassin’s legend
start in Europe? Legend of the Assassins
One of the first written accounts about the Assassins comes from a French priest and historian
living in Syria, William of Tyre . In the early 1180s, William wrote:
“In the province of Tyre . . . is a certain people who have ten castles and surrounding
lands and we have often heard that there are sixty thousands of them or more. . . . Both we and the Saracens call them Assassins,
but I don’t know where the name comes from ”
But Europeans would have to wait until 1298 to learn more about this mysterious Order. That’s when Rustichello da Pisa published
The Travels of Marco Polo . [Roo-ste-ke-law. ‘Ste’ as in Steve, ‘ke’ as in Kent]
The Venetian traveller describes a land called ‘Mulehet’ where an Old Man of the Mountain
used to live. The Man had built the largest and most beautiful
garden of the world, “Three canals streamed there: one for water,
one for honey, one for wine. In the garden there lived boys and maidens,
the most handsome in the world …” In the garden were admitted only those whom
the Old Man wanted to turn into his Assassins. He drugged them with opium and upon waking
up in the garden, he let them believe that they were experiencing a vision of Heaven. The next time they woke up, The Old Man had
brought them back to the ‘real world’. Longing to return to that Heaven, these young
men were manipulated to become Assassins on behalf of the Old Man. Only death as a martyr for their cause would
grant them a return to that Garden of Delights. Marco Polo claims that it was for that reason
that the Assassins were such effective killers, and the Old Man was so feared that rulers
in Asia would pay him a regular tribute. The alternative being death, of course. Polo’s account concludes by narrating how
in 1265 the Lord of the Tatars, Alau, tired of this wickedness, laid siege to the Old
Man’s fortress for three years, before starving out the Man of the Mountain and all his Assassins. But how much of Marco Polo’s account is
the truth and how much legend? Or even slander circulated by enemies? We’ll find out now: enter Hasan Sabbah. Hasan
the Student Hasan Sabbah was born in the year 1050 in
Qom, modern day Iran. Qom, was and still, considered as one of the
holiest cities in Shi’a Islam and the leading centre for Muslim scholarship in Persia. His father, Ali bin Muhammad bin Ja‘far
al-Sabbah al-Himyari, was originally Yemeni and belonged to the Twelver tradition of Shi’a
Islam. After Hasan’s birth, the Sabbah family settled
down in Ray, where the young Hasan received his early religious education in accordance
to his father’s creed. But before I continue, allow me to clarify
some religious terms. For example, what is the difference between
Shi’a and Sunni Muslims? These two factions share many spiritual beliefs
and religious practices, as their schism was political in nature. After the death of Mohammad in 632 his adviser
Abu Bakr became the first Caliph, or ‘successor of the Prophet’, tasked with leading the
Islamic nation. But his leadership was challenged by the followers
of Ali, the Prophet’s cousin and son-in-law. This faction originated the Shi’a sect,
who believe that the leadership of the Islamic nation belongs to the direct descendants of
the Prophet. On the other hand, Sunni Muslims believe that
the leadership of the community is not a birthright: it can, and it must be earned. The Twelver tradition is the mainstream belief
amongst Shi’as . It is called Twelver in reference to the Twelve successors of Mohammad,
the last of which, Muhammad ibn Hasan al-Mahdī, is yet to return to become mankind’s saviour. The city of Ray, where young Hasan lived,
was at the centre of another Shi’a current, the Ismailis. They derive their name from their allegiance
to Ismail, the eldest son of Imam Jafar as Sadiq. Ismailis are the second largest denomination
within Shi’a Islam, and what differentiates them from other Shi’a currents is that they
have a living, hereditary Imam. In Ray, Hasan was introduced to the Ismaili
doctrine by two prominent da’is, or missionaries: Amira Zarrab and Abu Nasr Sarraj. Following these studies, at the age of seventeen,
Hasan converted to Ismailism and took an oath of allegiance to the Ismaili imam of the time,
the Fatimid Caliph: al-Mustansir. The Fatimid Dynasty ruled the most powerful
Muslim state of the era, from their capital in Cairo. Despite their power, Fatimids were under constant
threat from the Seljuk Turks. The Seljuks were another powerful dynasty,
originating from Central Asia. From there, they had swept through Persia
and the Middle East, establishing a Sunni Sultanate. Our newly converted Ismaili student, Hasan,
at aged 22 had ventured in those territories, managing to impress Abd al-Malik Ibn Attash,
who was the chief Isma‘ili da‘i in the Seljuk Sultanate – so much so that he got
a job as a missionary, too. In this delicate role, Hasan first travelled
to the secret Persian Ismaili headquarters in Isfahan, Persia, deep into Seljuk territory. He then went to Cairo and Alexandria to perfect
his education. During his Egyptian period, Hasan clashed
with some big shots in the Ismaili organisation. One in particular: the Vizier (or chief minister)
to the Fatimid court, al-Afdal. The conflict revolved around succession to
the Caliphate, and by extension to the Imamate: in other words, who would be the next leader
of the Ismailis? The current caliph, Al-Mustansir, had appointed
as future successor his eldest son the Imam Nizar. On the other hand, Vizier al-Afdal was lobbying
to install Nizar’s younger brother Musta’li. Who happened to be his son-in-law, by the
way. Hasan had provided his support to Nizar – which
made him an enemy to the powerful Vizier. The outcome of this whole intrigue? First of all, a further schism within Islam,
with Nizari Ismaili now rivalling Musta’li Ismailis
Second outcome – Hasan was exiled by Al-Afdal and he returned to Persia in June 1081. But by now he had become the most prominent
da’i for the nascent Nizari community. Hasan, the strategist
Over the following years Hasan travelled across Persia, spreading the word of the Nizaris. During this period, he increased his following
and started drawing his plans to get rid of the Seljuk occupation of his land. But what had motivated Hasan Sabbah in revolting
against the Seljuks? He actually had three different sets of reasons:
From a religious perspective, the ardently Sunni Seljuks did not hide their hostility
against Shi’as of all sects, and the Nizaris and Ismailis may have feared for their own
religious freedom. Politically, Hassan had still an allegiance
to the Egyptian Fatimids, despite his exile. The Seljuk Turks by the 1070s had stretched
as far as the Sinai, threatening to uproot the Caliphate. And nationally, Hasan’s revolt could have
been an expression of the Persians’ resentment over the alien rule of the Seljuk Turks. I am pretty sure that Hasan had never read
Sun-Tzu, yet the strategy he formulated was ‘pure Art of War’:
He frankly assessed the weaknesses of his faction and the ones of the Seljuks. The Nizari were heavily outnumbered, while
Seljuk leaders were scattered around the vast Persian territory. How could he multiply the effectiveness of
his forces? How could he deal severe blows to the occupiers
without staging pitch battles on a dispersive territory? His answer was to quickly occupy the High
Ground and establish a series of impregnable mountain strongholds, from which to launch
targeted killings of political and military top brass all around the Country. The Assassin Creed was beginning to take shape. Hasan, the resistance leader
By 1087 Hasan had concentrated his efforts for recruiting a resistance movement around
the Daylam region, a traditional Shi’a stronghold. By September 1090 he had taken control of
the region and has seized the fortress of Alamut - “The Teaching of the Eagle” - located
in the central Elburz Mountains of the Rudbar region. He did so by cunning and peaceful means, converting
in secret, one by one, the soldiers of the local garrison. Hasan made the fortress impregnable and made
it self-sufficient by improving the cultivation and irrigation systems of the Alamut valley. He also established an important library,
holding a vast collection of manuscripts and scientific instruments. After firmly establishing himself at Alamut,
Hasan extended his influence in the region by winning more converts and expanding his
network of fortresses in Rudbar. In 1091, Hasan sent one of his followers,
da‘i Husayn Qa’ini to Quhistan, near the border with modern day Afghanistan. Husayn was successful in starting a popular
uprising among local Shi’as seeking independence from the Seljuks. This allowed the Nizaris to gain control of
several towns in Quhistan. In less than two years after the capture of
Alamut, Hasan Sabbah had founded an independent territorial state for the Nizari Isma‘ilis
in the midst of the Seljuk sultanate. The conflict intensifies
The Persian Shia population of course saw the Seljuk Turks as invaders and oppressors. Sunni sources beg to differ, pointing to the
fact that Seljuks tried to extend a friendly hand to the locals. Their Sultan Malik Shah, for example, had
appointed as his Vizier a Persian: Abu Ali Hassan bin Ali bin Ishaq, better known as
Nizam al-Mulk, which translates as “the Order of the Country”. According to legend, Hasan and Nizam had been
classmates and friends in their youth. After becoming Vizier, Nizam had helped his
old friend by securing him a post at the court of Malik Shah. But soon their rivalry erupted and Nizam had
conspired to have Hasan exiled. This legend would make Hasan’s mission one
of personal revenge against his childhood friend who had betrayed him. As romantic as this story sounds, Nizam was
32 years older than Hasan, and there wasn’t any chance they could have been school mates. So, what happened next was purely politically
motivated. In 1092, Nizam launched a Seljuk counter-attack
against the Nizaris in Alamut and Quhistan, but Hasan’s strategy proved effective. His small garrisons atop the easily defendable
mountain strongholds were able to repel attack after attack. During the siege of Alamut, Hasan was able
to extract to safety his wife and daughters to another Ismaili community. He never brought them back, starting a tradition
of not allowing women into the fortress. Hasan’s next move was to go on the offensive. Lacking the numbers for a full-on military
campaign, Hassan relied on his next favourite tactic: a targeted killing intended to decapitate
Seljuk leadership. Hasan picked the fidai or ‘faithful’ who
would carry out the mission: Bu Tahir Arrani. Disguised as a sufi, a Muslim mystic, the
fidai approached the litter in which his target was travelling. Swift and silent, his dagger left its sheath
and plunged itself into Arrani’s target: Nizam Al-Mulk. The vizier died on the spot. The same fate befell Tahir Arrani. He and the other fidais serenely accepted
the fact that their missions would be, most likely, suicidal. The fidai was immediately cut down by Nizam’s
bodyguards. This was the first high profile assassination
carried out by the faithful soldiers of the Nizari army. Hasan and his two immediate successors ordered
a total of 75 tactical killings, always aimed at high profile targets and never on civilians. The occupiers would often retaliate with massacres
among Ismaili communities, followed by further surgical strikes on Hasan’s orders. Unsurprisingly, the actions of the fidais
earned them the hatred of the Seljuks and of large part of the Sunni community. They painted them as radical extremist, proto-terrorists,
and at the same time as dissolute drug addicts. This is the time when the Nizari Fidais became
known as Hashishin or Assassins, the users of Hashish. Assassins? Let’s pause for a moment. Did the Assassins, or Hashishins actually
smoke hashish? In reality, they never used that word to describe
themselves. Their correct description would be ‘Fidais
of the Nizari Ismaili Army’. The name was stuck on them by Marco Polo and
William of Tyre, who had heard it from the enemies of the Nizari in Syria. It is true that soldiers across time and space
have made use of recreational and prescription drugs to get themselves in the right state
for battle. But here is a question for you: if you were
Hasan would you really trust a stoner with a delicate mission involving climbing castle
walls, picking locks, evading guards and stabbing a high-profile enemy? And how about the munchies? Sure, the stoner’s best friend, the kebab
was invented by Turk soldiers … but not until 1377! So, it is not disputed that the word Assassin
actually comes from Hashish, but it is now accepted that these highly skilled and trained
warriors were not on drugs. They simply found themselves stuck with a
slur, thrown on them by their numerous enemies. And it did not help that the slur was a strong
sounding word ASSASSIN which was quickly adopted by popular European poets in the 13th and
14th Century – one for all: Dante Alighieri, author of the Divine Comedy. But enough with Whistler’s word of the day,
let’s get down to business to defeat the Turks. Nizari Expansion
Shortly after the assassination of Nizam Al-Mulk, the Seljuk Sultan Malik Shah also died. The causes remain mysterious, maybe they were
natural. Or maybe he was poisoned. As a result, the Sultanate was plunged into
chaos and a civil war between Malik’s eldest son Berkyaruq and his brother Sanjar, supported
by their half-brother Muhammad Tapar. The state was further fractured by the emergence
of independent warlords. Taking advantage of the disorder Hasan consolidated
and extended his power seizing more strategically located fortresses, extending as far as Damghan,
500 km to the East of the Alamut headquarters, or even further to Khuzestan, 1000 km to the
south. Hasan was unstoppable. During this period, he consolidated his reputation
as an austere and ascetic leader. In a short span of time, we don’t know exactly
when, he had both is sons executed: Muhammad was guilty of drinking wine, while Ustad was
a suspect in the death of Hasan’s loyal lieutenant Husayn Qaini. The Nizari leader personally turned inwards,
but politically sought expansion. It is said that he never again left his castle,
but in the early years of the XIIth century, Hasan began sending his da‘is from Alamut
into Syria. Here the Nizaris resumed their practice of
establishing mountain strongholds. The most important one was the Masyaf fortress. Years later, Masyaf would be under the command
of Rashīd ad-Dīn. He achieved fame due to his numerous attempts
to assassinate Saladin. And it was he, not Hasan, who gave rise to
the legend of the Old Man of the Mountain. And it was them, the Syrian Assassins, who
would first make contact with the Templars. The Assassins and the Knights Templar
I will take a quick detour now to cover the relationship between these two groups, even
if out of scope of Hasan’s life. A certain media franchise has painted these
two organisations as mortal rivals through the ages and across continents. These two factions had much in common, though,
if you think about it. Both were a corps of elite warriors, motivated
by both a political and a religious drive, both would be at some point slandered and
accused as heretic by powerful enemies. The tension between Assassins and Templars
in the Levant, or the Holy Land, never escalated into a full clash. There were some hostilities, but the two sometimes
were allies, as the Syrian Nizari were more interested in fighting other Muslim enemies,
rather than the Christians. Form 1152, they interacted almost like mob
cartels with assigned territories, wary of stepping too much on each other’s toes. In that year, the fidais had claimed one of
their few Christian victims, Count Raymond of Tripoli. In reparation, the Templars in Lebanon demanded
a tribute of two thousand bezants a year. Sounds almost like ‘protection money’. In another occasion, it was the Syrian Assassins
who demanded protection money from none other than King Louis IX of France, while he was
visiting Acre, in modern day Israel. If the King paid, the Old Man of the Mountain
would let him live. Grand master Joinville of the Templars intervened
and sent the envoy back home, empty handed, but with a non-aggression pact between the
King and the Old Man. But enough with ‘Whistler’s ruined video
game series of the day’, let’s get back to Hasan, shall we? Religious leadership
In 1097 the Imam Nizar, spiritual leader to Hasan and his men, was killed in Cairo. His rival the Vizier Al-Afdal had him buried
alive between two walls. When the news reached Hasan, he sent for Nizar’s
young son to be rescued from Cairo and be brought to safety to Alamut. Until now Hasan Sabbah had been the political
and military leader of the Nizari in Persia. From now on, in the absence of a manifest
imam, he would serve also as the religious leader of the whole Nizari community. In the last years of the XIth Century Hasan
launched an offensive closed to the heart of the Seljuk Sultanate. The objective was the fortress of Shahdiz,
closed to the capital Isfahan. His agent for the operation was Ahmad bin
Attash, the son of Hasan’s first teacher after he had become an Ismaili. But Ahmad did not use the dagger, only his
faith. One by one, he had converted the children,
then the soldiers of the garrison. By 1100 Ahmad and the Nizaris had successfully
infiltrated and occupied the castle. The road to Isfahan was open …
… but eventually the Nizari did not achieve victory, at least not a total one. In the meanwhile, the warring Seljuk brothers
Berkyaruq, Sanjar and Muhammad Tapar had agreed to a truce, in order to combat Hasan. The newly united Seljuks fought back and secured
Isfahan. The Nizari retaliated with more assassinations,
which were followed by massacres of Nizari civilians. In 1105 Tapar became Sultan. Four years later, he launched a second siege
of Alamut, eager to close the Nizari nuisance once and for all. At the head of his army was Ahmad Al-Mulk,
the son of the Vizier Nizam assassinated in 1092. But, once again, Alamut held on. By assault, or by attrition, Alamut would
not fall. Stalemate
The ongoing war had reached a stalemate. By the time of Muhammad Tapar’s death in
1118 the Nizaris were still successfully defending important, albeit scattered territories, which
amounted to an independent Nizari state. But a total victory and conquest of Persia
from the hands of the Seljuks was out of question. In these years of stalemate Hasan withdrew
even more from the outside world, spending most of his time inside his personal quarters
at Alamut, reading books, committing the teachings of his doctrine to writing and administering
the affairs of his realm. In 1124, aged 74, Hasan sensed that he was
reaching the end of his life. He summoned Kia Buzurg-Umid, a trusted lieutenant
from the Lamasar fortress, and designated him as his successor in Alamut. Hasan Sabbah died, after a brief illness,
on the 12th of June 1124 and was buried near Alamut, the fortress that had been his home
and the symbol of his power for so many years. The Nizari fidais – or Assassins if you
like – continued to harass the Seljuks and other foes in Persia for the following one
hundred years. Nizari worshipers regularly visited Hasan’s
mausoleum, until a new, unstoppable enemy swept through central Asia and Persia: the
Mongols. In 1256 they laid the final siege to Alamut. The proud fortress, the “Teaching of the
Eagle”, eventually fell and was demolished. The Assassins remained active in Syria, but
their legend had come to an end in the place that had been their first home.
