Aug 10, 2020
In the dusty flood plain, 100,000 men and many times that in horses surround the walls of Baghdad. Catapults lob stones relentlessly into the city walls, hauled from great distance. Here, towers collapse under the barrage; there, ladders bring Mongol and subject peoples onto the fortifications, seizing them from the disorganized and panicking garrison. Arrows, some bearing messages, bring both confusion and injury where they land. The mighty Tigris River, the city’s lifeblood, is now part of the trap; pontoon bridges, from them dangling nets embedded with iron hooks, rest both north and south of the city to catch those trying to flee. The final ‘Abbasid Caliph sits frightened and overwhelmed in his palace, as the grasp of Hulegu Khan closes around him. Today, we discuss the fall of Baghdad, 1258. But first, we’d like to remind you that for those of you who enjoy the podcast, your support would be highly appreciated and would help us keep going. We have a patreon available for monthly or even one-time donations or, if you aren’t able to support us financially, positive reviews on Apple Podcasts or other review sites really helps us out. And now, I’m your host David, and this is Kings and Generals: Ages of Conquest.
We left our previous episode off with Hulegu destroying the Nizari Ismaili state, better known at the Order of Assassins, who had controlled a series of fortresses across eastern and northern Iran. By the end of 1256, Hulegu had reduced them to but a few holdouts, and he could begin to look to his next target. Considered heretics of the worst variety by most Sunni Muslims, the Persian writer Juvaini, a member of Hulegu’s retinue, described his victory over the Nizaris in glowing terms, Hulegu as a sword of Islam carrying out God’s will. Juvaini presents Hulegu’s war as a more ‘civilized’ form of conquest compared to that of his grandfather, Chinggis Khan. Destruction was limited to Ismaili territories and the towns and fortresses that failed to submit, as opposed to the veritable tsunami of bloodshed Chinggis Khan wrought on the Khwarezmian empire over thirty years prior. What Hulegu was soon to do in Baghdad and to the titular head of Sunni Islam would not be so praised, and it is perhaps no coincidence that Juvaini’s own chronicle ends with the fall of the Ismailis. As Hulegu left Ismaili territory in the final month of 1256, his eye was drawn to the ‘Abbasid Caliph in Baghdad.
In Islam, the spiritual leader of the religion was whoever was considered the successor to the Prophet Muhammad. For Shi’a Muslims, this was the imam- for Nizari Ismailis, the Imam was the ruler of Alamut, who had just been put to death on Mongol orders. For the majority of Muslims, known as Sunnis, the head of their faith was the Caliph, literally meaning ‘successor.’The first four Caliphs to succeed the Prophet were the “Rightly Guided,” the Rashidun, whose legitimacy is generally unquestioned by most Muslims. The Rashidun were succeeded by the Umayyads, who greatly extended Muslim rule east and west, across North Africa into Spain and across Eastern Iran into Central Asia. In 750, the Umayyad Caliphs were overthrown in the ‘Abbasid revolution. Claiming descent from the Prophet’s uncle ‘Abbas, it was under the early ‘Abbasids that the Caliphal capital was moved from Damascus to the newly established Baghdad along the Tigris River. Never comparable to the power of the Umayyads at their height, from the 9th century onwards the still vast ‘Abbasid empire fragmented with threat from all directions: the Fatimids in Egypt, the Samanids, Buyids and Saffarids of Iran and finally from the steppes, the Great Seljuqs, all of which ground the ‘Abbasids down until their state hardly stretched past the walls of Baghdad. The weakening of the Seljuqs after Sultan Malik-Shah’s death in 1092 allowed the ‘Abbasids to gradually reclaim independence and some authority, even repulsing a Seljuq army attacking Baghdad in 1157. The long reigns of Caliph al-Nasir and al-Mustansir, from 1180 until 1242, saw the ‘Abbasids reclaim much of central and southern Iraq. A far cry from the sweeping power they had held in the 8th century, by the 13th century they still remained influential and held prestige. For 500 years they had been the heads of Islam, and had long cultivated an useful image as invioable and holy, above temporal affairs though they were more often than not mired in them.
For instance, in the late 12th century Caliph al-Nasir was in conflict with the Seljuqs who continued to rule in Iran. He allied with the rising power northeast of the Iranian Seljuqs, the Khwarezmian Empire. Once vassals of the Great Seljuqs, the Khwarezm-shahs now butted heads with them as they expanded southwards, and the reigning Khwarezm-Shah, Tekesh bin Il-Arslan, was happy to ally himself with the Caliph. In 1194 at Rayy, modern Tehran, Tekesh defeated and killed the last Seljuq Sultan in Iran, Toghrul III, ending the dynasty and sending the Sultan’s severed head to al-Nasir in Baghdad. Rather than provide freedom for the Caliphate, Tekesh now wanted to step into the place of Seljuqs. The Seljuqs’ territory in Iran was largely annexed by Tekesh Khwarezm-shah, who soon began making aggressive motions to the Caliph. Al-Nasir encouraged the Khwarezmians’ eastern neighbours, the Ghurids, in their war with Tekesh. Tekesh died in 1200, succeeded by his son Muhammad II as Khwarezm-shah who, through luck, timely assassinations and military victories, overcame the Ghurids, consolidated power over Iran and in 1217 tried to march on Baghdad itself. Muhammad’s march on Baghdad was halted by a vicious snowstorm as he crossed the Zagros mountains, forcing him back. Returning to the northeast of his empire, Muhammad would there make the poor decisions which led to the Mongol Invasion of Khwarezm, covered way back in episode 9 of this podcast.
Now, some authors of the period assert that Caliph al-Nasir actually invited Chinggis Khan to attack Muhammad of Khwarezm- when placed in the context of the Caliph switching to support whoever was on the eastern side of his current foe, there is definitely a logic to it. However, as we described in detail in episode 8 of the podcast, the cause of the Mongol invasion can be found in the foolery of Muhammad Khwarezm-shah alone. Had the Mongols come on the invitation of the Caliph, then surely they would have publicized that to justify the attack and sow further confusion among the Khwarezmians.
In fact, in 1221 when detachments of Jebe and Subutai’s army penetrated into northern Iraq, Caliph al-Nasir was hardly welcoming. Along with the rulers of northern Iraq’s most important cities, Muzaffar ad-Din of Irbil and Badr al-Din Lu’lu’, the de facto ruler of Mosul, the Caliph organized a short lived military coalition, which proved unnecessary as the Mongols soon withdrew. Evidently, the ‘Abbasids spread a rumour that their army was absolutely gargantuan, their power unassailable and heavenly protected, and the Mongols were hesitant to commit. Had they paid close attention in the following years, they might have called the Caliph’s bluff. In 1225 that favoured Khwarezmian rapscallion, Jalal al-Din Mingburnu, defeated a Caliphal army after the ‘Abbasids failed to provide him assistance. Jalal al-Din chased the survivors right to the suburbs of Baghdad, then went north, defeated an army from Irbil sent to assist the Caliph and captured Irbil’s ruler, Muzaffar ad-Din. Caliph al-Nasir, by then elderly, paralyzed and blind for three years, died soon after Jalal al-Din’s attack, and was succeeded by his son, az-Zahir, as the 35th Caliph… for nine months. On Caliph az-Zahir’s death in 1226, he was succeeded by his own son, al-Mustansir, the 36th and penultimate ‘Abbasid Caliph of Baghdad.
As Caliph, al-Mustanir continued to try to strengthen ‘Abbasid control in Iraq and expand the army, but Mongol rule steadily spread over the region. By the start of the 1230s, Chormaqun Noyan and his lieutenants brought the submission of most of Iran and cast Mongol authority over the Caucasus. For Caliph al-Mustansir, the Mongol empire was a vast crescent to his north and east, where it stretched seemingly indefinitely. By 1235, Mongol forces mainly under Chagatai Noyan, “the Lesser,” were probing northern Iraq and directly, but hesitantly, testing ‘Abbasid hegemony in the region. In June 1237, Chagatai Noyan captured Irbil in what is now Iraqi Kurdistan, though the Citadel held out and in August Caliphal forces relieved the city. In February of 1238, an attack was launched on Baghdad, and a panicked Caliph al-Mustansir sent messages to the remaining independent Muslim powers from the Jazira and Syria down to Egypt for aid. Only 2,000 troops from the Ayyubid Sultan of Egypt, al-Kamil, reached Baghdad, and in June 1238 a caliphal army was defeated near the city. However, the defences of Baghdad itself remained formidable and the city stood defiant while the Mongols turned back from the walls, unprepared for both a long siege and or the fearsome Iraqi summer. Possibly, the Mongols suffered some sort of reverse while attacking Baghdad; some sixty years later, when the Persian historian Wassaf [vassaf] visited Baghdad, he recorded a Mongol defeat outside the walls, though this goes unmentioned by the other sources.
While Baghdad remained independent, the Mongols continued to take cities in the region. Chormaqun’s successor Baiju brought the submission of the Seljuqs of Anatolia in 1243; in 1244, the Mongol general Yasa’ur rode into Syria, dislodging the remnants of Jalal al-Din’s Khwarezmians. The Ayyubids of Syria, the successors of the once mighty empire of Saladin Ayyubi, largely submitted over 1244-5, and even Antioch, one of the last of the Crusader Kingdoms, offered its submission. In late 1245 another attack on Baghdad was launched but soon aborted. The new Caliph since 1242, al-Mustasim ibn al-Mustansir, was lucky the attack was called off, for he was rather rapidly running out of allies. It seem that the new Caliph managed to avoid further attacks with a token submission: the Franscisan Friar John de Plano Carpini, present at the coronation of Guyuk Khaan in 1246, noted ‘Abbasid envoys were present in Karakorum and believed they paid a regular tribute.
The 38th and final ‘Abbasid Caliph of Baghdad, al-Mustasim, was not the equal of his father or great-grandfather. While al-Nasir and al-Mustansir sought to strengthen the Caliphate, al-Mustasim was more interested in the luxury of Baghdad, and was nearly universally condemned for decadence. A great lover of music, he sponsored an entire neighbourhood in Baghdad to house musicians, including the most famous of the age, Saif al-Din Urmawi. A lover of pigeon racing, art, calligraphy and treasures, al-Mustasim was also indecisive and easily swayed by factions in his court, some of whom, such as the vizier, sought accomodation with the Mongols, while others urged to meet them in battle. As we will see shortly, the result was al-Mustasim vacillating in policy, wavering between antagonizing the Mongols and sending them gifts. Essentially, the worst sort of man to have in power when Hulegu marched on him with upwards of 100,000 men.
Neither was weak leadership the only problem. Corruption and decadence of Baghdad’s elite alienated the lower classes. A weak currency and high food prices contributed to revolts; many of Baghdad’s soldiers increasingly found themselves unpaid and resorted to bandity or desertion. Topping off years of natural disasters- heavy rain, storms, annual flooding, in 1256, the Tigris, the river which runs through Baghdad, flooded for over a month, washing away much of Baghdad’s lower city. Attributed to divine displeasure at the decadent al-Mustasim, for decades afterwards this flood was remembered as the “Mustasimid flood.” As Mongol armies approached the city, pestilence killed many hundreds, if not thousands. The Caliph stood in a precarious position.
Likely in late 1255, Hulegu sent a message to Caliph al-Mustasim demanding, as Hulegu had done with other rulers across the region, that Baghdad supply troops to help in the attack on the Nizari Isamilis. Al-Mustasim refused. As the ‘Abbasids had been sending tribute in the previous years and were considered vassals, such a refusal was a declaration of independence. Hulegu, having been sent in part to find how sincere the Caliph’s submission was, now had his casus belli, for to the Mongols, the Caliph of Baghdad was now in open revolt. War with the Caliph was not intended to punish Islam specifically; had the Mongols caught the Pope and considered him a rebel, certainly he would have shared a similar fate. What mattered to the Mongols was submission to their divinely mandated rule; refusal to submit was blasphemy of the highest order.
After the fall of Alamut in December 1256, and spending some time near the still-resisting Nizari fortress of Lammasar, Hulegu stayed in Qazwin, just south of Alamut, until March 1257. From Qazwin he undertook a somewhat repetitive journey: from Qazwin he went to Hamadan, then to Dinavar, then Tabriz, then back to Hamadan, then back to Tabriz, then back to Hamadan in September 1257, from whence he would finally march on Baghdad. The reasons for this were multiple, and not just because Hulegu really liked northwestern Iran, though it did give him good time to evaluate the region. Firstly, Hulegu did not want to besiege Baghdad in the summer months, and instead needed to time the march so he arrived outside the city in the winter. Secondly, it provided time for his lieutenants to secure the neighbouring theaters: Kitbuqa Noyan secured through force and diplomacy Luristan and the passes through the Zagros mountains, ensuring Hulegu’s main army could march unimpeded when the time came. In Anatolia, Baiju Noyan had needed to put down a Seljuq revolt, culminating in the battle of Aksaray in October 1256. Baiju then needed to move back east, in order to march on Baghdad from the west when the time came.
Thirdly, Hulegu and the Caliph engaged in an entertaining round of diplomatic fisti-cuffs. Hulegu offered the Caliph another chance to surrender, repudiating him for his failure to send troops against the Nizaris. Hulegu’s threat, as recorded by the Ilkhanid vizier Rashid al-Din, went as follows:
“Previously we have given you advice, but now we say you should avoid our wrath and vengeance. Do not try to overreach yourself or accomplish the impossible, for you will only succeed in harming yourself. The past is over. Destroy your ramparts, ﬁll in your moats, turn the kingdom over to your son, and come to us. If you do not wish to come, send all three, the vizier [al-Alqami], Sulaymanshah, and the Dawatdar, that they may convey our message word for word. If our command is obeyed, it will not be necessary for us to wreak vengeance, and you may retain your lands, army, and subjects. If you do not heed our advice and dispute with us, line up your soldiers and get ready for the ﬁeld of battle, for we have our loins girded for battle with you and are standing at the ready. When I lead my troops in wrath against Baghdad, even if you hide in the sky or in the earth, ‘I shall bring you down from the turning celestial sphere; I shall pull you up like a lion. I shall not leave one person alive in your realm, and I shall put your city and country to the torch.’ “If you desire to have mercy on your ancient family’s heads, heed my advice. If you do not, let us see what God’s will is.”
The Caliph refused Hulegu’s demands, and when he sent back Hulegu’s envoys, they were harassed by the people of Baghdad; the Caliph’s vizier, ibn al-Alqami, had to send soldiers to protect the envoys to ensure they weren’t killed. When Hulegu learned of the incident, he derided the Caliph as a total incompetent, and then flew into a rage when he heard the official response, which called Hulegu a young and inexperienced man: somewhat humorous, considering al-Mustasim was only four years older than Hulegu. Hulegu’s response was about as subtle as you’d expect. Again, as per the account of Rashid al-Din, quote:
“God the eternal elevated [Chinggis] Khan and his progeny and gave us all the face of the earth, from east to west. Anyone whose heart and tongue are straight with us in submission retains his kingdom, property, women, children, and life. He who contemplates otherwise will not live to enjoy them. Love of status and property, conceit, and pride in transitory fortune have so seduced you that even the words of your well-wishers have no effect on you. Your ear cannot hear the advice of the compassionate, and you have deviated from the path of your fathers and forebears. You must get ready for battle, for I am coming to Baghdad with an army as numerous as ants and locusts. Be the turning of the celestial sphere how it may, the power to command is God’s.”
Upon hearing this message, al-Mustasim’s vizier ibn al-Alqami understood the colossal danger they were in, and fervently argued for the Caliph to appease the Mongols. Al-Alqami has something of a bisecting reputation in the Islamic world. For some, reading the Mamluk sources, the Shia Muslim ibn al-Alqami was a conspirator, plotting with Hulegu to topple the head of Sunni Islam for his own gain. For those reading from Persian and Ilkhanid sources, ibn al-Alqami was earnestly trying to steer the Caliph away from annihilation and save as many lives as he could. On this last response from Hulegu, al-Alqami was able to convince al-Mustasim to send gifts, only for the Caliph to be talked out of it by the dawatdar, Mugahid al-Din Aybek, the Caliphate’s top military man and a staunch supporter of resistance against Hulegu. Convincing the Caliph to abandon the expensive gifts, al-Mustasim sent the following message to vizier al-Alqami to assuage his worries:
“Do not fear the future, and do not talk fables, for there is friendship and unity, not enmity and hostility, between me and Hülägü and [Mongke Khaan]. Since I am their friend, they are of course friendly and benevolent toward me. The envoys’ message is false. Even if these brothers contemplate opposition to or treachery against me, what has the Abbasid dynasty to fear, when the monarchs of the face of the earth stand as our army and obey our every command? If I request an army from every country and mount to repulse the foe, I can incite Iran and Turan against these brothers. Be of stout heart, and do not fear the threats of the Mongols, for although they are powerful upstarts, they pose nothing but an empty threat to the House of Abbas.”
If Rashid al-Din is accurate in recording this message, then it goes some way to demonstrate just how greatly al-Mustasim misunderstood the situation. al-Mustasim’s next letter to Hulegu spoke of monarchs who had attacked the ‘Abbasids and suffered divine retribution for it, noting specifically Muahmmad Khwarezm-shah, who for his attack on Baghdad in 1217 suffered the power of Hulegu’s grandfather. Hulegu sent another threat, promising to bring the Caliph “down miserably into the jaws of a lion,” and had enough of parlay.
Hulegu had only to check with the astrologers and diviners of his retinue in order to ensure the assault had good fortune. Variously they warned of failure, catastrophe, and death for harming the Caliph. Finally, Hulegu turned to the famed Iranian scholar rescued from the Nizari fortresses, Nasir al-Din Tusi, and asked what he thought of the matter. After thinking for a moment, Tusi told Hulegu that none of these things would happen. Hulegu asked what would. Tusi replied, “Hulegu Khan will take the Caliph’s place.” And that was enough for Hulegu. The border passes were now secured, and the march on Baghdad could begin.
As Hulegu marched through Kermanshah, massacres followed him. His army approached Baghdad in three directions. Kitbuqa took a route through Luristan, and would march on Baghdad from the south. Baiju Noyan came through northern Iraq, crossing the Tigris near Irbil and closing in on Baghdad’s west and north. Hulegu took the main army through the Hulwan pass and would close off Baghdad from the east, thus encircling the city.
As the armies entered Iraq, cities and towns across Mesopotamia surrendered to them. In January 1258 as the Mongols closed in on the city, the Caliphal army under the Dawatdar tried to repulse Baiju’s army. They were lured into a feigned retreat; a dyke was broken and their camp flooded. Few survivors escaped back to Baghdad. By January 22ned, the Mongol armies had linked up around the city. Not just Mongols, but subject Iranians, Turks, Georgians and Armenians made up this force, with a thousand Chinese siege engineers. The defenders of Baghdad were outnumbered and without hope. For a week, the Mongols prepared their siege lines. Pontoon bridges were built across the Tigris, nets and iron hooks hanging from them to ensure none could escape either up or downriver. No stones for the catapults were within the area, so they needed to be hauled in from elsewhere. A ditch was dug around the city, the earth from the ditch used to build a rampart with gates set in it. Protective coverings were built for the siege engines. With the typical thoroughness of the early Toluids, Baghdad was closed off, its fate sealed.
The assault began on January 29th. An incessant barrage of stones and arrows brought the defenders to their knees. The artillery upon the walls of Baghdad was poorly maintained and outranged by that of the Mongols, useless in the words of one source. Under mobile wooden shelters, the Mongols advanced on the walls, sending arrows deeper into the city. One of the Caliph’s daughters was killed when an arrow passed through a window in his palace. Messages were tied to arrows, proclaiming that all those who did not resist would be spared. By the start of February, towers and bastions along the walls were collapsing. By February 3rd, Mongol forces were capturing the walls. When one of Hulegu’s commanders was killed by an arrow sent from the city, he angrily forced his army on at greater speed.
Realizing just how monumentally he had erred, al-Mustasim sent envoys, among them the once bellicose Dawatdar, to discuss terms with Hulegu. They were quickly put to death. Nothing but the unconditional surrender of the Caliph himself was good enough. Finally, on February 10th, al-Mustasim and his family came out from Baghdad, and put his life in the hands of Hulegu. Initially, the Caliph was treated respectfully. Other notables came out to submit to Hulegu, and many others fled out of the city to escape the pestilence which had already claimed thousands within. These who came out were trapped between the walls of Baghdad and the Mongol palisade. Once the garrison and its weapons were collected, on the 13th of February, the sack of Baghdad began.
In popular culture, the sack of Baghdad is uncontrolled, disorganized, horrifically violent and results in the city’s utter destruction and death of a million people. In reality it was controlled, organized, horrifically violent and resulted in only most of the city’s destruction and deaths of thousands. Rather than wiping Baghdad from the map, it was more of an organized dismemberment. Evidence comes from multiple accounts, but we’ll focus on that of the musician, Urmawi. In contrast to the image of the mob running wild over Baghdad, Urmawi’s account, recorded by the Mamluk historian Shihab al-Din al-’Umari, records the Mongols meticulously planned the sacking. Depending on rank, commanders were given 1 to 3 days to collect loot from sections of the city allotted to them. In Urmawi’s case, his neighbourhood was allotted to Baiju Noyan and his retinue- notably just men Baiju picked to bring into the city with him, rather than a whole portion of his army. Urmawi greeted Baiju with gifts and hosted a feast for him, entertaining him with music and ingratiating himself to the Noyan. Baiju was so pleased he urged Urmawi to come with him to play before Hulegu. Hulegu enjoyed a concert before the walls of Baghdad, ordered Urmawi’s neighbourhood spared and protected with picked men, and even granted Urmawi gardens which had belonged to the Caliph.
Likewise, various sources note that a number of segments of the populations were spared and their property protected: Christians, notably Nestorian priests; Shi’ites and Alids; Khurasani merchants, Qadis, scholars, shaykhs and in one source, Jews. Individuals are mentioned petitioning Hulegu to spare their homes- likely for a hefty payment, of course- but in order to follow these orders, the forces looting the city had to be disciplined enough to actually take note of addresses. Even the oft-repeated statement that the Tigris River ran black with ink of the books of Baghdad’s library must be re-examined, for Nasir al-Din Tusi took many with him to Maragha, where he built his famous observatory. A number of sources indicate the city’s looting lasted only a week, rather than a full month.
Clemency was extended to multiple groups… but for the majority of the city’s population who did not fall into these categories, it appears no quarter was given. For all the gated neighbourhoods like Urmawi’s which were protected, many more were gutted and looted. Treasures collected over the city’s 500 years were stolen, the finest architecture of the ‘Abbasids ruined and torn down. Hulegu entered the city on February 15th, visiting the Caliph’s palace, where al-Mustasim was forced to reveal where he had hidden his wealth. 12,000 severed ears were brought before Hulegu to mark the slain citizenry. The dead littered the street; after a few days, the heat and stench of the rotting bodies led Hulegu to end the looting by February 20th. Notably, the city was not to be left to brigandage: a governor and Mongol officials were appointed, ibn al-Alqami kept his position as vizier, to clean up the bodies and restore the city.
On the 20th of February, Hulegu moved to the village of Waqaf to avoid the foul air of Baghdad, from which he apparently fell sick. At Waqaf, Hulegu had al-Mustasim put to death, most likely rolled into a carpet and stomped upon to avoid spilling his blood on the earth. His family soon followed him. In European accounts, the popular version was that Hulegu locked Mustasim in his treasury, where he starved to death in an ironic punishment to mark the Caliph’s failures to pay for troops and defences.
So ended the 500 year old ‘Abbasid Caliphate. The impact on Islam is hard to understate. Since the death of the Prophet Muhammad in 632, there had been a widely recognized successor to him in the form of the Caliphs -Rashidun, Umayyad and ‘Abbasid. Most Muslims saw him as the spiritual, if not the actual political, head of Islam. For the Caliphate, seemingly inviolable and permanent, to come to such a violent and sudden end sent shockwaves throughout the Islamic world. Caliphates had been overthrown before; previous dynasties like the Buyids and Seljuqs had held the Caliphs as puppets and militarily defeated them, while the Nizari Assassins had claimed the lives of at least two; but never before had the Caliphate actually been erased from existence by a power claiming universal sovereignty in its place. Distant relations of al-Mustasim were eventually set up in Mamluk Cairo as new Caliphs, but were never widely recognized. The Ottoman Sultans would also claim the title of Caliph in time, but none have ever been able to step into the position held by the ‘Abbasids. It’s no surprise that many Muslims throughout the following centuries have referred to the sack of Baghdad as a scar of the psyche of the ummah, one which it has not recovered from today.
With the fall of Baghdad, Hulegu could now cast his eyes onto Syria, down the Levantine coast to the newly established Mamluk Sultanate of Egypt. The sense was real that Hulegu was about to bring the whole of Islam under the authority of the house of Chinggis. Our next episode takes us to the Mongol drive to the Meditteranean- and the famous clash of ‘Ayn Jalut, an episode you won’t want to miss. Be sure to subscribe to our podcast, and to help up continue bringing you great content, consider supporting us on Patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. I’m your host David, and we’ll catch you on the next one.