The origins of the Assassins are unlikely and obscure – and that is appropriate enough for any group with aspirations to, literally, cult status.
With that obscurity, of course, often comes preconceptions of ancient beginnings, and of mysteries which have been lost in the mists of time. In fact, the Assassins were relative newcomers, and barely predated the crusader period in which they played such an intriguing part.
And in the traditional way of religious sectarianism and revolutionary party politics, they were the product of a factional split from a faction that had already split.
Hasan and Persia – Birth of a New State
In 969 Shi’ite supporters had created the Fatimid caliphate in Egypt, a dynasty of Ismaili Muslims. Ismailism was, in turn, a split from Shi’ite Islam, which put them at odds with most of the other Islamic players in the region, such as the majority of the local Muslim Arabs and the later Turkic entrants from the steppes, who adhered to Sunni Islam.
Egypt was at the heart of the new sect, but one of its most important leaders was born far away in Persia. He was a man whose personal commitment to the cause was so profound, so severe and implacable in fact, that he set the tone for the whole movement. This man was Hasan Sabbah, and he was to become the founder of the Nizari state in Persia.
19th century depiction of Hasan Sabbah – Wikimedia Commons
Hasan was born in the Persian town of Qum, in modern Iran, at some point in the 1050s. His family were mainstream Shi’ites but, for reasons that are now obscure, he converted to Ismailism when he was 17. Hasan spent three years in Egypt learning more about his new religion and returned to Persia in 1081, eager to take on a leadership role.
Hasan was no ordinary religious leader. He had qualities which allowed him to combine a life of learning with the practical skills required to run military campaigns and build a new state from scratch – even under the most difficult conditions. At the heart of this unique skillset (and at the heart of his new sect) was a ferocious commitment to the cause – a commitment that transcended family or friends or any of the usual ties, comforts and weaknesses that mark out most of our lives.
The Persia that Hasan was born into was dominated by an alien elite – Turkic by ethnicity and Sunni Muslim by religion. This allowed him to effortlessly combine the role of nationalist warrior with that of charismatic religious leader. He started to gather followers around him. Soon his community was in revolt against what he saw as a foreign occupying force.
The turning point in Hasan’s struggle came in 1087. He came across an exceptional mountain castle named Alamut. Hasan decided (however implausible that must have seemed at the time) to make it the capital of his nascent state. Alamut was certainly a tempting prospect. It was imposing and easy to defend, perched on a mountain ridge more than 6,000 feet above sea level. But it also had sustainability, as it dominated a fertile valley, some thirty miles long, which stretched out below. This was, he realised, a miniature kingdom, and a base from which the Ismailis in Persia could grow.
His plan to capture it was, as always with the sect, a long game and a ferociously far-sighted one. Hasan first prepared the ground by sending out teams of missionaries to convert the local peasants around Alamut. Hasan himself played an integral part in the plan, and in September 1090, he entered the castle disguised as a teacher.
More of his missionaries were infiltrated into the castle. Men of the garrison began to convert to his new sect. Eventually, the time came to take control. The lord of Alamut was offered the chance to join and become part of the community. He refused but, with his garrison suborned and confronted by Hasan and his secret converts, he surrendered. The Assassins’ first castle was handed over with a surprising lack of bloodshed.
Hasan the charismatic preacher slipped seamlessly into his new role as military planner and state-builder. The walls of the castle were strengthened. Water storage was improved. Irrigation in the surrounding neighbourhoods was made more efficient. Everything was geared around the need for survivability in a siege.
Hasan and his sect were here to stay.
Life at Alamut – A Fortress and a Faith
In the Daylami language, ‘Alamut’ meant ‘the eagle’s teaching’. Hasan was already a brilliant strategist before he acquired the castle. But the eagle certainly taught him what elements his plan for state-building should contain: strong castles in remote mountain fastnesses; villages of converts to sustain the garrisons and missionaries; the application of power by stealth rather than by brute force; and, above all, devoted followers who valued the needs of the sect above their own lives or the lives of their families.
Hasan now had his blueprint. He used Alamut as a base from which to branch out still further. He and his followers captured or built many more fortresses in Rudbar and in nearby areas in Daylam. Against all the odds, he succeeded in creating what was, in effect, an Ismaili state in Iran – and one which was to become an independent splinter group from its roots in Fatimid Egypt.
His grasp of strategy was intuitive but profound. Hasan realised that as followers of a minority belief system in an intolerant world, their best chance of survival lay in creating their own political structures and defences. And, although he never ousted the Turks from Persia, he succeeded in creating an Ismaili state, with a vast network of interconnected castles and villages, joined together in a religious and cultural struggle against their foreign overlords. Large parts of northern Persia joined his new Ismaili domains and declared independence from their Seljuk Turk overlords.
Hasan was certainly a demanding companion by modern standards. He did not get out much. He spent 34 years in his new headquarters at Alamut. During this time Hasan never left the castle and, indeed, only left his living quarters twice – both times, as a treat, going to visit the rooftop.
His family were an even more tightly controlled part of this ascetic lifestyle. His wife and daughters were sent away to earn a living by spinning. He wanted to prevent them becoming a distraction and in this he succeeded all too well – they never saw him again.
His two sons were treated even more harshly. One made the mistake of drinking wine and was killed for the offence. The other was executed for alleged involvement in a murder plot. He was innocent, and by the time the facts had been established, it was too late – he was already dead. But for Hasan there was no regret. He was proud to draw attention to his decision to kill his sons, and used it as the ultimate proof of his determination – the severity of his new sect was plain for all to see.
A Ruthless Legacy
This was an astonishing, almost terrifying, strength of will. But the disregard for the normal boundaries of family affection or the sanctity of life allowed Hasan, against all the odds, to build and administer a state – and to establish the new sect’s unique code of behaviour and operating principles.
Even in its earliest days, the Assassins’ new state was defined by blood and a ruthless fanaticism.
Steve Tibble, an honorary research associate at Royal Holloway, University of London, has a new book out – Assassins and Templars: A Battle in Myth and Blood – from Yale University Press. It tells the story of the medieval world’s two most extraordinary organisations, tracing their origins, strategies, violent clashes, and enduring legacy in myth and memory.
You can get your copy of Assassins and Templars: A Battle in Myth and Blood through
Top Image: Hasan Sabbah – aka The Old Man of the Mountain – depicted in a manuscript of Marco Polo’s Travels – Gibliothèque nationale de France MS Français 2810 fol. 17r
By Steve Tibble
The origins of the Assassins are unlikely and obscure – and that is appropriate enough for any group with aspirations to, literally, cult status.
With that obscurity, of course, often comes preconceptions of ancient beginnings, and of mysteries which have been lost in the mists of time. In fact, the Assassins were relative newcomers, and barely predated the crusader period in which they played such an intriguing part.
And in the traditional way of religious sectarianism and revolutionary party politics, they were the product of a factional split from a faction that had already split.
Hasan and Persia – Birth of a New State
In 969 Shi’ite supporters had created the Fatimid caliphate in Egypt, a dynasty of Ismaili Muslims. Ismailism was, in turn, a split from Shi’ite Islam, which put them at odds with most of the other Islamic players in the region, such as the majority of the local Muslim Arabs and the later Turkic entrants from the steppes, who adhered to Sunni Islam.
Egypt was at the heart of the new sect, but one of its most important leaders was born far away in Persia. He was a man whose personal commitment to the cause was so profound, so severe and implacable in fact, that he set the tone for the whole movement. This man was Hasan Sabbah, and he was to become the founder of the Nizari state in Persia.
Hasan was born in the Persian town of Qum, in modern Iran, at some point in the 1050s. His family were mainstream Shi’ites but, for reasons that are now obscure, he converted to Ismailism when he was 17. Hasan spent three years in Egypt learning more about his new religion and returned to Persia in 1081, eager to take on a leadership role.
Hasan was no ordinary religious leader. He had qualities which allowed him to combine a life of learning with the practical skills required to run military campaigns and build a new state from scratch – even under the most difficult conditions. At the heart of this unique skillset (and at the heart of his new sect) was a ferocious commitment to the cause – a commitment that transcended family or friends or any of the usual ties, comforts and weaknesses that mark out most of our lives.
The Persia that Hasan was born into was dominated by an alien elite – Turkic by ethnicity and Sunni Muslim by religion. This allowed him to effortlessly combine the role of nationalist warrior with that of charismatic religious leader. He started to gather followers around him. Soon his community was in revolt against what he saw as a foreign occupying force.
The turning point in Hasan’s struggle came in 1087. He came across an exceptional mountain castle named Alamut. Hasan decided (however implausible that must have seemed at the time) to make it the capital of his nascent state. Alamut was certainly a tempting prospect. It was imposing and easy to defend, perched on a mountain ridge more than 6,000 feet above sea level. But it also had sustainability, as it dominated a fertile valley, some thirty miles long, which stretched out below. This was, he realised, a miniature kingdom, and a base from which the Ismailis in Persia could grow.
His plan to capture it was, as always with the sect, a long game and a ferociously far-sighted one. Hasan first prepared the ground by sending out teams of missionaries to convert the local peasants around Alamut. Hasan himself played an integral part in the plan, and in September 1090, he entered the castle disguised as a teacher.
More of his missionaries were infiltrated into the castle. Men of the garrison began to convert to his new sect. Eventually, the time came to take control. The lord of Alamut was offered the chance to join and become part of the community. He refused but, with his garrison suborned and confronted by Hasan and his secret converts, he surrendered. The Assassins’ first castle was handed over with a surprising lack of bloodshed.
Hasan the charismatic preacher slipped seamlessly into his new role as military planner and state-builder. The walls of the castle were strengthened. Water storage was improved. Irrigation in the surrounding neighbourhoods was made more efficient. Everything was geared around the need for survivability in a siege.
Hasan and his sect were here to stay.
Life at Alamut – A Fortress and a Faith
In the Daylami language, ‘Alamut’ meant ‘the eagle’s teaching’. Hasan was already a brilliant strategist before he acquired the castle. But the eagle certainly taught him what elements his plan for state-building should contain: strong castles in remote mountain fastnesses; villages of converts to sustain the garrisons and missionaries; the application of power by stealth rather than by brute force; and, above all, devoted followers who valued the needs of the sect above their own lives or the lives of their families.
Hasan now had his blueprint. He used Alamut as a base from which to branch out still further. He and his followers captured or built many more fortresses in Rudbar and in nearby areas in Daylam. Against all the odds, he succeeded in creating what was, in effect, an Ismaili state in Iran – and one which was to become an independent splinter group from its roots in Fatimid Egypt.
His grasp of strategy was intuitive but profound. Hasan realised that as followers of a minority belief system in an intolerant world, their best chance of survival lay in creating their own political structures and defences. And, although he never ousted the Turks from Persia, he succeeded in creating an Ismaili state, with a vast network of interconnected castles and villages, joined together in a religious and cultural struggle against their foreign overlords. Large parts of northern Persia joined his new Ismaili domains and declared independence from their Seljuk Turk overlords.
Hasan was certainly a demanding companion by modern standards. He did not get out much. He spent 34 years in his new headquarters at Alamut. During this time Hasan never left the castle and, indeed, only left his living quarters twice – both times, as a treat, going to visit the rooftop.
His family were an even more tightly controlled part of this ascetic lifestyle. His wife and daughters were sent away to earn a living by spinning. He wanted to prevent them becoming a distraction and in this he succeeded all too well – they never saw him again.
His two sons were treated even more harshly. One made the mistake of drinking wine and was killed for the offence. The other was executed for alleged involvement in a murder plot. He was innocent, and by the time the facts had been established, it was too late – he was already dead. But for Hasan there was no regret. He was proud to draw attention to his decision to kill his sons, and used it as the ultimate proof of his determination – the severity of his new sect was plain for all to see.
A Ruthless Legacy
This was an astonishing, almost terrifying, strength of will. But the disregard for the normal boundaries of family affection or the sanctity of life allowed Hasan, against all the odds, to build and administer a state – and to establish the new sect’s unique code of behaviour and operating principles.
Even in its earliest days, the Assassins’ new state was defined by blood and a ruthless fanaticism.
You can get your copy of Assassins and Templars: A Battle in Myth and Blood through
Yale University Press website
Amazon.com
Amazon.ca
Amazon.co.uk
To learn more about Steve, please visit his website or follow him on Instagram
Top Image: Hasan Sabbah – aka The Old Man of the Mountain – depicted in a manuscript of Marco Polo’s Travels – Gibliothèque nationale de France MS Français 2810 fol. 17r
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