Context
The sultanate had definitely begun to struggle economically by the beginning of the sixteenth century. Following the Ottoman-Mamluk War of 1485–1491, the Mamluk army mutinied, looted their own city of Damascus, and demanded additional pay once in Cairo (Har-El’s Struggle for Domination in the Middle East, see page 192).
The sultan, al-Ghawri, was unable to meet his soldiers demands and attempted to siphon funds from the elite of Cairo. It was then that the government entered a short period of tense relations with the army over their pay. Eventually the soldiers were paid a fraction of their original demand. While this issue seems to have been resolved, it is emblematic of the Mamluk’s faltering treasury in their final decades.
This economic hardship was partly driven by plague, which ravaged along the Nile and spread rapidly in the close-quartered Mamluk soldiers (who made up the elite portion of the army) and by the expanding Portuguese influence in the Red Sea.
Cutting off the lucrative spice trade, the Portuguese periodically blockaded Mamluk ports and set fire to Muslim merchant ships entering the region. This period of conflict lasted from 1505 to the sultanates fall in 1517. The legendary Portuguese admiral Afonso de Albuquerque even planned to ally with the Ethiopians and the Safavids to retake Jerusalem before he died in 1515 (Disney’s A History of Portugal and the Portuguese Empire, Volume 2, see page 133).
Crusading visions aside, the Mamluks nonetheless truly struggled to counter the Portuguese in part due to their natural lack of wood for ships and metal for cannons. These goods had to be imported from forested and metal-rich areas, such as Anatolia and Europe (Amitai and Breytenbach’s The Mamluk Sultanate from the Perspective of Regional and World History, see page 61).
As an aside, the Ottoman Empire actually assisted the Mamluk navy on several occasions as part of their history of competitive gift-giving and one-upmanship. Supplying materials and knowledgeable admirals, Ottoman experience proved vital for the Mamluks in challenging the Portuguese bid for dominance of the Red Sea (ikhail’s God’s Shadow, see page 255).
Nonetheless, this lack of material, such as wood and metal, meant that the Mamluks struggled to support a modern fleet. In the 1516-1517 Ottoman-Mamluk War, this meant that the Ottoman fleet went unchecked as it supported and supplied the Ottoman army along the Levantine and Egyptian coasts.
This lack of metal also meant that the Mamluks struggled to equip their armies with cannons and rifles. There is little to no account of such gunpowder weapons at the Battle of Marj Dabiq, the first battle of the Ottoman-Mamluk War of 1516-1517, on the Mamluk side.
However, it is unclear if the Mamluks were even interested in using such weapons in a significant way before this battle. They certainly had some cannons and some rifles before the battle, but chose to resort to their more traditional form of warfare that had worked for them for several centuries at this point.
The War
The Battle of Marj Dabiq proved pivotal for the war. And while the Ottomans and Mamluks held equivalently sized armies, the Mamluk army was primarily composed of conscripts, who had little experience. Only an estimated 15,000 of their 60,000 troops were trained Mamluk soldiers, while the Ottoman army was a tested and battle-hardened 60,000 troops from the recent Ottoman-Safavid war in 1514.
Such weapons, such as cannons and rifles, were vital for the Ottomans, who easily crushed the Mamluk force with Mamluk historians noting the effectiveness of the cannons. Ibn Zunbuls, a Mamluk historian, wrote that each Ottoman cannon killed 50-100 soldiers. While hard to authenticate, the cannons were undoubtedly effective, especially since they often scared the prized Mamluk horses with their blasts.
Following this battle, the Mamluks allied with the Knights of Rhodes to access their firearms market and knowledgeable gunpowder specialists. Spurred by the domineering Ottomans, the Knights of Rhodes found this to be an advantageous alliance. However, being a relatively minor Aegean power, their alliance was welcome, but not game-changing.
Additionally, this battle in the flat plains of Marj Dabiq was not only devastating because it left Syria open to the Ottomans, but because it also obliterated much of the Mamluk sultanate’s command structure. Most importantly, the Mamluk sultan, Qansuh al-Ghawri, died, but also many major players in Syria parished, such as the governors of Damascus, Homs, Tripoli, and Safed (Mikhail’s God’s Shadow, see page 290).
While the circumstances of al-Ghawri’s death are still up-for-debate, Ibn Iyas, a contemporary Mamluk historian, wrote:
The sultan stood under his standard and called to his soldiers: “Aghas! This is the moment to take heart! Fight, and I will reward you!” But no one listened and the men fled from the battle. “Pray to God to give us victory!” Called al-Ghawri. This is the moment for prayer.” But he found neither support nor defenders. He then began to feel an unquenchable fire. This was a particularly hot day, and an unusual fog of dust had risen between the armies. It was the day of God’s anger directed against the Egyptian army, which stopped fighting. At the worst moment, and with the situation growing worse, the emir Timur Zardkash feared for the safety of the battle standard, lowered and stowed it, then came to find the sultan. He said to him: “Lord Sultan, the Ottoman army has defeated us. Save yourself and flee to Aleppo.” When the sultan realized this, he was gripped by a sort of paralysis that affected the side of his body, and his jaw dropped open. He asked for water, which was brought to him in a golden goblet. He drank some, turned his horse to flee, advanced two paces, and fell from his saddle. After that, little by little, he surrendered his soul. Wiet’s Ibn Iyâs, Muḥammad ibn Ahmad, see page 67
From this account, we can see that al-Ghawri is trying to rally his troops that are breaking formation and deserting the battlefield. Al-Ghawri is often attested as being one of the last people to flee, but he was never to escape with his life. Some Ottoman sources claim that a common soldier slayed the sultan, which enraged Selim, for the soldier had taken such a prestigious kill for himself. Other sources simply state that al-Ghawri was killed on the battlefield among countless other soldiers and his body was trampled and never recognized.
Regardless of what happened, the loss of the sultan and the governors left Syria largely leaderless as the battered Mamluk army retreated to Aleppo. But, unknown to them, the governor of Aleppo, Khayr Bey, was an Ottoman spy, who played a key role in creating chaos in the Mamluk ranks during the battle. Upon their arrival to the city, Khayr Bey refused them entry into the city, declaring it part of the Ottoman Empire.
As much of the army were conscripted peasants from Syria, many soldiers may have deserted back to their original villages or cities. Regardless of what happened to the remains of this army, the Ottomans faced little resistance until they entered the outskirts of Cairo. So, in a single battle, the entirety of Syria had fallen into Ottoman hands as city after city submitted—often peacefully—to the Ottomans.
Perhaps a key part in the ease of capturing Syria was due to the Mamluk sultan’s looting and forced conscription of peasants into the army as he initially moved north to meet the Ottomans. Especially in Aleppo, the Mamluk army left the city’s gates being heckled and jeered at by the local peoples.
The Mamluk army’s stay in Syria made it abundantly clear that the region held little love for their sultan. Seeking to inspire their loyalty, in return for their submission the Ottoman sultan granted special privileges for these cities, such as lessening their taxes or reducing tariffs on goods for the merchants. Additionally, he participated in local religious traditions that worked to solidify the legitimacy of his rule.
It wasn’t for hundreds of more kilometers that the Ottomans would once again be challenged by the Mamluk army. Only about 15 kilometers outside of Cairo, the newly crowned Mamluk sultan, Tumanbay II, had hastily begun constructing a fortification at Raidaniyya.
At some point during its construction, Tumanbay II advocated to meet the Ottoman army as it exited the arid Sinai Desert before the Ottomans could rendezvous and resupply with their ships in Egypt. However, convinced by his military advisors, he decided to hold the defensive position at Raidaniyya.
Manning the wall, Tumanbay II had managed to form an army of over 60,000 soldiers. This time, some of the soldiers were armed with rifles and cannons. While this was certainly an improvement over their predominantly gunpowderless army at Marj Dabiq, the Battle of Raidaniyya lasted only an hour and was a rousing victory for the Ottomans. Outflanking the fortified wall, the Mamluk army was soon routed and any survivors fled back to Cairo.
At Cairo, the remaining contingent of Mamluks held out for several more weeks. Merely making up a small force, they posed little threat to the Ottoman army before Selim finally entered the city victorious.
At last, the Ottomans added the jewel of the Mamluk sultanate to their empire. While fighting continued for several more weeks as disparate Mamluk groups attempted to counter the Ottoman conquest, much of the fighting would come to a close as the final sultan of the Mamluks, Tumanbay II, was captured on 31 March, 1517 (Finkel’s Osman’s Dream, see page 110) and executed nearly two weeks later.
https://ejournal.uinib.ac.id/jurnal/index.php/aladyan/article/view/1713
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