Shaykh Khidr Mihrani, the Kurdish seer

In the chronicles of the Mamluk period, few figures appear as enigmatic as shaykh Khidr Mihrani. A Kurdish Sufi figure who rose from humble beginnings, Khidr became one of the closest confidants of Sultan Baybars.

Medieval chroniclers describe a man who occupied an extraordinary position: his counsel carried great influence, rulers and amirs treated him with caution, and many believed he possessed knowledge of future events. Some even compared him to the Quranic Khidr.

Yet the same sources preserve a complicated image of him. Khidr was accused by some of serious offenses. The sultan eventually imprisoned him, but according to the chronicles, Khidr claimed that their deaths were linked, and after Khidr died, Baybars himself followed shortly afterward.

His story is an excellent illustration of the relationship between Sufism, esoteric knowledge, political authority, and the significant Kurdish link to these fields in the premodern world.

I have brought together his life story from various premodern accounts in order to present it as comprehensively as possible. This is, to my knowledge, the first attempt at a complete English translation of his biography: 

Shams al Din al Jazari writes:

At the beginning of his life, he served the great men in the land of al-Jazīra. 

Then it was reported about him that he had corrupted some of the female slaves of the palace, so an order was issued to castrate him. He fled to Aleppo, and served at the court of Ibn Qarāṭābā, and he impregnated a slave girl. He was sought after, so he fled to Damascus and took refuge with the amir Ḍiyāʾ al-Dīn al-Qaymarī.

 Ibn Shaddad writes: 

Qushṭamur al-ʿAjamī, one of the Baḥrī Ṣāliḥiyya amirs, had spoken to Baybars about Khidr’s remarkable claims: even before the sultan gained power, Khidr repeatedly stated that he would one day become ruler. The amir Sayf al-Dīn likewise became attached to him.

During the campaign against al-Karak in 661 AH/1263 CE, Khidr accompanied the sultan. When the army stopped at Ṭābūr, the sultan asked about him and learned that Khidr had withdrawn into a cave near the tomb of Abū Hurayra. He went to find him, met with him, and was so impressed that he brought him into his close circle.

From then onward, a number of incidents strengthened the sultan’s trust in him. While the sultan was besieging Arsūf, Khidr informed him of the exact date on which it would fall, and the conquest occurred as he had predicted. Similar reports were given regarding Caesarea and Ṣafad.

Later, in 665 AH/1266 CE, as the sultan was travelling from Damascus toward al-Karak to examine the fortress, he asked Khidr for his opinion. Khidr advised him to abandon the expedition and return instead to Egypt. The sultan did not accept this advice and continued with his plan. However, at Birkat Zīzā he was thrown from his horse, broke his leg, and was forced to remain there until he recovered, after which he was transported to Gaza.

During the sultan’s Anatolian campaign, one of his companions met with Khidr and asked him what would happen to the expedition. Khidr replied that the sultan would be victorious, would return to Damascus, and would die there twenty days after Khidr’s own death. According to the report, this happened exactly as foretold. I heard this story directly from Qushṭamur al-ʿAjamī himself, who personally took responsibility for the account.

Because of the exceptional confidence the sultan placed in Khidr, he established for him a zāwiya outside Cairo on the canal near the Drummery-ground and endowed it with properties that generated more than 30,000 silver dirhams annually. He also founded other lodges for him in Jerusalem, Damascus, Baʿlabakk, Ḥamāh, and Ḥimṣ, each supplied with endowments and inhabited by dervishes.

The sultan granted him extraordinary freedom of action within the realm: Khidr exercised authority, and no one was able to hold him accountable. He demolished the great Jewish synagogue of Damascus and converted it into a lodge, adding prayer niches. In Jerusalem he destroyed a church located west of the city, known among Christians as the site of the Crucifixion and highly revered by them. He personally killed its priest and transformed the building into a zāwiya.

In Alexandria, he also seized one of the major Greek churches, regarded by Christians as a patriarchal seat and associated by them with the head of John son of Zechariah (John the Baptist). He converted it into a mosque, built prayer niches there, and named it the Green School. He opened a window facing the street and provided for the dervishes attached to it.

In all of these actions, the sultan supported him and approved what he did. 

 Al Umari: 

He exercised authority, but no one exercised authority over him. No command of his was opposed, whether in matters great or small. Consequently, both the elite and the common people were wary of him. Even Amir Badr al-Dīn Baylik al-Khazindār, the deputy of the sultanate; the vizier Bahāʾ al-Dīn ʿAlī ibn Ḥannā; the rulers of the frontier principalities; and even the Frankish kings, along with others, treated him with caution.

Whenever he wrote to the ruler of Ḥamāh or to any of the amirs requesting a favor, he would sign:

"Shaykh Khiḍr, the donkey-fucker."

(Then) the great men and the sultan found fault with him for disgraceful matters, and he was accused of unbelief.

People were brought forward to confront him and question him.

Ibn al-Yūnīnī said:

I was told that when Sultan al-Ẓāhir's attitude toward him changed, he summoned some of Khiḍr's companions from Damascus to question him regarding matters that had been reported about him and to confront him with them.

Sultan al-Ẓāhir sat in the Citadel of the Mountain, and with him were among the greatest of the amirs: Fāris al-Dīn al-Atābak, Badr al-Dīn, and al-Malik al-Manṣūr Qalāwūn. He sent the amir Sayf al-Dīn Qushṭamur al-ʿAjamī to bring him. When he was summoned to appear at the citadel, he objected, because this was not something he was accustomed to.

Qushṭamur informed him that there was a matter being discussed, so he came with him. When he entered, he found that things were not as he was accustomed to. So he sat apart from them, separated from the gathering. The sultan then brought forward those of his companions whom he had summoned from Damascus.

They began speaking and accused him of shameful deeds and grave matters — things that could scarcely come from a Muslim.

Khiḍr replied:

"I do not know what they are saying.

Besides, I never told you: 'I am a righteous man.' You were the ones who said this.

If what these people are saying is true, then you were the ones who lied."

Sultan al-Ẓāhir and those with him rose from where they were and said:

"Let us get up. We do not want to be burned by being near him."

They moved to the far side of the audience hall, away from him. Al-Ẓāhir said:

"What is it that has made you suspicious of him?"

The Atābak replied:

"This man has knowledge of secrets — the secrets of the state and its inner affairs.

He should not be left alive, for it cannot be ruled out that something may come from him whose consequences cannot be repaired."

Those present agreed with him and said:

"Some of what has been said about him would be enough to make his blood lawful."

Khiḍr understood what they intended.

He said to Sultan al-Ẓāhir:

"Listen to what I say to you!

My appointed time is close to yours.

Between me and you there are only a few short days.

Whoever of us dies first, the other will follow him soon."

Sultan al-Ẓāhir was struck silent by this and said to the amirs:

"What do you think about this?"

None of them said anything.

Al-Ẓāhir said:

"This man shall be imprisoned in a place where none of his words can be heard, so that he will be like one who has been buried while still alive."

So he imprisoned him in a place apart. He did not allow anyone to enter to him except those whom the sultan trusted with the utmost confidence. Food of the finest quality, drinks, fruits, and clothing were brought to him, and his garments were changed for him regularly.

His imprisonment began on the twelfth of Shawwāl, in the year 671 AH. He died on Thursday, the sixth of Muḥarram, or on the night of Friday the seventh. On that Friday he was brought out from his imprisonment in the Citadel of the Mountain — dead. He was handed over to his family. They carried him to his well-known zāwiya in the quarter of the al-Ẓāhirī Mosque in al-Ḥusayniyya. There he was washed. He was carried to the mentioned mosque, and the funeral prayer was performed for him there after the Friday prayer. He was buried in the tomb he had prepared for himself at the zāwiya. He was slightly over fifty years old. When al-Ẓāhir returned from al-Rūm, he wrote an order for his release and sent the message by the postal relay. The sultan did not live after him for more than twenty days. He died on the twenty-seventh of that Muḥarram. Thus it happened exactly as Shaykh Khiḍr had said.

Ibn Kathir:

It is said that his origin was from the village of al-Muḥammadiyya in Jazīrat Ibn ʿUmar. He was credited with spiritual states and unveilings.

However, when he mixed with people, he became infatuated with some of the daughters of the amirs. He used to say about al-Malik al-Ẓāhir, while he was still only an amir, that he would become king.

Because of this, after al-Ẓāhir became ruler, the sultan believed in him and greatly honored him. He revered him excessively, visited him at his zāwiya once or twice a week, took him with him on many of his journeys, stayed close to him, respected him, and consulted him.

He would advise him with opinions and unveilings that proved correct, whether they were divine, satanic, or the result of a spiritual state or good fortune.

However, when he mixed with people, he fell into temptation because of some of the daughters of the amirs. They did not veil themselves from him, and he fell into trial.

This is generally what happens when one mixes with people: the person who associates with them is not safe from temptation, especially mixing with women.

When what happened occurred, he was questioned before the sultan, Taysirī, Qalāwūn, and al-Fāris Aqṭāy the Atābak. He admitted [the matter], and the sultan intended to kill him.

From Medieval Shahrazur to Spain

Ibn Khaldun recounts the story of a Kurdish community from Shahrazur whose chiefs were driven from their homeland by the Mongol conquest and eventually found refuge in the Maghrib. Some settled in Tunis, while others continued westward into Morocco and even crossed into al-Andalus.

Across the centuries, the story feels strikingly familiar: Kurds forced from their homeland, carrying their memories, rivalries, and traditions with them as they built new lives in distant lands. Many rose to prominent positions in the courts and dynasties they chose to serve.

There is even a touch of bitter irony in the tale. Ibn Khaldun notes that the old feuds they had known in their homeland followed them across continents. Even in North Africa, far from the mountains of Kurdistan, Kurdish rivalries endured. I have to admit, that detail made me chuckle.

Despite their historical significance, these passages from Ibn Khaldun have remained untranslated and never been pointed to or brought to light in Kurdish studies. This translation is the first effort to introduce them to the field and highlight their importance for the study of Kurdish history.

There is a backstory to how I came across passages like these. While reading primary sources from al-Andalus, I repeatedly encountered references to prominent men who were said to have "come from the East." It struck me that among such figures there must surely have been Kurds, for few peoples embodied the notion of "men of the East" more than the Kurds of the medieval Islamicate world.

Curious, I began to investigate further. I was not disappointed. The deeper I dug, the more Kurds I found appearing in the sources of al-Andalus and the Maghrib, as soldiers, administrators, scholars, courtiers, and political elites. This passage from Ibn Khaldun is only one piece of a much larger puzzle, but it is among the most remarkable.

Ibn Khaldun writes: 

....This man, Muhammad ibn al-Qalun, known as al-Mazwar, I do not know anything of his origins peyond the fact that he was a Kurd, from among those Kurds whose chiefs came as a delegation to the kings of the Maghrib after the Tatars had driven them from their homelands in Shahrazur when they gained control of Baghdad in the year 656 AH

Some of them settled in Tunis, while others advanced into the Maghrib and came to al-Murtada in Marrakesh, who treated them generously and granted them good hospitality Some of them entered the service of the Banu Marin (Marinid dynasty), while others joined the Banu Abd al-Wad as is mentioned in their histories.....

As for Mūsā b. ʿAlī, the chamberlain who perished together with the sultan, he was originally from a Kurdish tribe among the non-Arab peoples of the East. We have already referred to the disagreements among nations concerning their ancestry. Among them, al-Masʿūdī mentions various groups in his book, naming the Shāhjān, the Barsān, the Kīkān, and others besides. He states that their homelands were in Azerbaijan, Syria, and Mosul, and that among them were Christians of the Jacobite persuasion and Kharijites who professed disavowal of both ʿUthmān and ʿAlī. Thus ends his account.

There were also groups of them in the mountains of Shahrazur in Iraq of the Ajam. Most of them lived a nomadic life, moving from place to place and seeking out regions blessed with rainfall for their herds. They dwelt in tents made of felt, and the greater part of their livelihood came from sheep and cattle. Owing to their numbers, they possessed considerable strength and independence, and some held positions of leadership in Baghdad during the period when foreign dynasties dominated the state and monopolized authority.

When the rule of the Abbasids was extinguished and the Tatars conquered Baghdad in the year 656 AH (1258 CE), their ruler Hülegü killed the last Abbasid caliph, al-Mustaʿṣim. The Tatars then advanced through the kingdoms and districts of Iraq and seized them. Many Kurds crossed the Euphrates in flight before the Tatars, who adhered to the religion of the Magians. They entered the domains of the Turks, for the noble families and leading houses among them considered it beneath their dignity to remain under Tatar rule.

Among those who migrated westward were two clans known as the Banū Lawīn and the Banū Bābīr, together with their followers. They entered the Maghrib toward the end of the Almohad state and presented themselves before al-Murtaḍā in Marrakesh. He received them graciously, honored them with generous hospitality, assigned them stipends and landed grants, and gave them an elevated position within the government.

When the Almohad regime soon afterward fell into disorder, they came under the rule of the Banū Marīn. Some of them joined Yaghmurāsan b. Zayyān, while al-Mustanṣir departed at that time for Ifriqiya. A certain branch of the Banū Bābīr—whose exact identity I do not know—was among those who went with him. Among them was Muḥammad b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, known as al-Mazwār, a close companion of our master Sultan Abū Yaḥyā, as well as others besides him. Another notable figure among those who remained in the dominions of the Banū Marīn was Rakkān, one of the most renowned members of their people. 

Among the Banū Bābīr were ʿAlī b. Ḥasan b. Ṣāf and his brother Salmān. Among the Banū Lawīn was al-Khiḍr b. Muḥammad, followed by the Banū Ḥammūr and the Banū Būṣa. Leadership of the Banū Bābīr belonged to Salmān and ʿAlī, while leadership of the Lawīn was held by al-Khiḍr b. Muḥammad.

Conflict nearly broke out between them, just as it had in their original homeland. Whenever they prepared for war, their supporters would come to join them from Tlemcen. Their fighting was conducted with arrows, and bows were their principal weapon. One of the most famous clashes between them took place in Fez in the year 674 AH (1275–76 CE), when al-Khiḍr, chief of the Banū Lawīn, and Salmān and ʿAlī, the chiefs of the Banū Bābīr, gathered their forces and fought outside Bāb al-Futūḥ. Yaʿqūb b. ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq left them to their own quarrel out of consideration for them and did not interfere.

Salmān later met his death while stationed at the frontier fortress of Tarifa in the year 690 AH (1291 CE). As for ʿAlī b. Ḥasan, he had a son named Mūsā whom Sultan Yūsuf b. Yaʿqūb took into his favor. The sultan granted him unrestricted access to his residence and raised him among the women of his household, so that Mūsā attained a position of exceptional intimacy. Certain incidents eventually occurred that displeased him, and in anger he departed and entered Tlemcen at a time when Yūsuf b. Yaʿqūb was besieging the city.

There he was received by ʿUthmān b. Yaghmurāsan with honors and a welcome befitting both the standing of his people and the favor he had enjoyed with the sultan. Yūsuf b. Yaʿqūb advised his father to win him back. He met Mūsā amid the theater of war, spoke with him, and apologized for the honors that the people of Tlemcen had shown him, urging him to remain loyal to them. Mūsā then returned to the sultan and informed him of what had happened, and the sultan did not hold it against him. He subsequently remained in Tlemcen, while his father ʿAlī died in the Maghrib in the year 707 AH (1307–8 CE).

After the death of ʿUthmān b. Yaghmurāsan b. Zayyān, his sons drew Mūsā even closer to themselves and strengthened their ties with him. They made him one of their inner circle and entrusted him with command of armies in their wars against their enemies. They appointed him to important offices and elevated ranks, including the vizierate and the chamberlainship.

When Sultan Abū Ḥammū died and his son Abū Tāshfīn succeeded him, it was Mūsā who supervised the taking of the oath of allegiance from the people on the new ruler’s behalf. This position greatly irked the freedman Hilāl. Once Hilāl had gained ascendancy, he frequently competed with and challenged Mūsā b. ʿAlī. Fearing for his safety, Mūsā resolved to cross the sea and take up frontier service in al-Andalus.

Hilāl, however, acted first. He had Mūsā arrested and exiled across the strait, where he settled in Granada. There he joined the ranks of the warrior-volunteers engaged in jihad. During his stay he refrained from accepting the stipend assigned to him by the sultan and never once stretched out his hand to receive it. This was regarded as one of the noblest aspects of his conduct and became widely discussed among the people, who were astonished by it.

Hilāl's heart burned with envy and hostility because of Mūsā's reputation. He incited his ruler against him and wrote to Ibn al-Aḥmar requesting that Mūsā be sent back. Ibn al-Aḥmar complied and surrendered him. The sultan then employed Mūsā in his campaigns on the frontiers, and among these was his command of the army sent to Ifrīqiya to confront our master Sultan Abū Yaḥyā in the year 727 AH (1327 CE).

Then the tide of battle turned against them. The defeat fell upon him, and the Zanāta suffered a severe slaughter. He retreated with the routed remnants of the army. Hilāl then incited the sultan against him and planted suspicions about his loyalty in his mind. When news of this reached Mūsā, he sought refuge among the Arab tribe of the Zawāwida. In his place, the command of the siege of Béjaïa was entrusted to Yaḥyā b. Mūsā, lord of the Chelif region.

Mūsā himself went to Sulaymān and Yaḥyā, the sons of ʿAlī b. Sabbāʿ b. Yaḥyā, who were among the princes of the Zawāwida, in their tribal encampments. They received him with kindness and great respect, and he remained among them for a time. The sultan later summoned him back, and he returned to his former position at court.

Not long afterward, however, the sultan had him arrested and sent to Algiers, where he was imprisoned and subjected to harsh confinement, largely because of the rivalry and intrigues of Hilāl. Then, when Hilāl finally incurred the sultan’s displeasure, Mūsā was summoned from the very prison in which he had been most tightly confined and brought before him.

When Hilāl was arrested, Mūsā b. ʿAlī was appointed to the office of chamberlain in his place. He continued to hold that office until Sultan Abū al-Ḥasan stormed Tlemcen. There he perished together with Abū Tāshfīn and his sons in the courtyard of their palace, as we have already related. Thus ended his career—and God alone endures.

After his death, his sons entered the service of Sultan Abū al-Ḥasan. The eldest of them, Saʿīd, had miraculously escaped from among the dead during that great catastrophe at the palace gate. Late in the night, though covered with grievous wounds, he managed to crawl away. His survival was afterward regarded as extraordinary. He received the sultan’s pardon and remained in favor until the restoration of the Banū ʿAbd al-Wād dynasty, whereupon he once again found a place of prominence in its service, as we shall mention later. God accomplishes His purposes.