190 DESTINY DISRUPTED
Ismail's named Babur, which means "tiger," and in some ways, he was even
more remarkable than the prodigious Safavid teenager.
Babur claimed descent from both Timur-i-lang and Chengez Khan.
What the blood ties really were, who knows, but Babur took his genealogy
seriously; it give him a lifelong sense of mission. His father ruled a little
kingdom called Farghana, just north of today's Afghanistan, and when he
died in 1495, Babur inherited this throne. He was twelve years old.
Within a year he had lost his kingdom, which is hardly surprising: he
was only twelve, after all! But he regrouped and conquered legendary
Samarqand, Timur's one-time capital-then lost it. He went back to
Farghana and took that again. But his enemies won it back. Then he con-
quered Samarqand a second time, this time with just 240 men-but could
not hold it. By the time he was eighteen, Babur had gained and lost two
kingdoms twice apiece and found himself on the run through the moun-
tains of Afghanistan with his mother and sisters and a few hundred fol-
lowers. For three years, he and his band roamed the wilds, looking for a
new kingdom: kinging was all he knew, and king was the only job title he
was seeking.
I dare say any teenager who holds together a band of adult warriors
over many years of homeless exile must have something going for him; and
Babur was certainly an intimidating physical specimen. The stories say he
could jump across a stream holding a full-grown man tucked under each
arm. (They don't say what the full-grown men thought of this exercise.)
Unlike most tough guys, however, Babur was sensitive, artistic, and ro-
mantic. He kept a diary throughout his adventures, and late in life penned
an autobiography that became a classic of Turkish literature. After his
grandson had it translated into the more prestigious Persian, the book
achieved a high place in that canon as well. In his book, Babur reveals him-
self with extraordinary honesty. After a crucial military loss, for example,
he tells us he could not help "crying a great deal." What kind of tough guy
admits such a thing? Later he reports on his arranged marriage and his fail-
ure to work up any enthusiasm for his wife, despite his earnest efforts. He
visits her only every week or two, he says, and then only because his
mother nags at him. Then he falls in love-with a boy he sees in the
bazaar. "In that frothing up of desire and passions and under the stress of
youthful folly, I used to wander bare-headed, bare-footed, through street