It sounds like the setup to a bad bar joke, but this really happened. And not just once. In the 13th century, the Mongols, yes, the horse-riding, empire-conquering Mongols, held public religious debates between faith leaders. With translators. With crowds. With real stakes.
This wasn’t a footnote in history. This was the world’s first known interfaith forum backed by the might of a superpower. And it’s one of the weirdest, wildest, most unexpectedly progressive stories from an empire better known for blood than dialogue.
Wait, the Mongols Did What Now?
After Genghis Khan’s death in 1227, his successors ruled over the largest contiguous empire the world had ever seen. From the Pacific Ocean to the edges of Europe, the Mongols controlled lands filled with Buddhists, Muslims, Christians, Daoists, and Jews.
Rather than force everyone into one faith (like many empires before and after), the Mongols tried something different. They invited leaders of different religions to the capital, especially under the rule of Mongke Khan in the 1250s, and told them to make their case.
The goal? Truth. Or at least, some kind of usable wisdom. The Mongols were deeply pragmatic. They believed that if a religion had real power, it should be able to prove itself. Not with swords, but with reason.
The Great Debate of 1254
The most famous of these debates happened in 1254 in Karakorum, the Mongol capital.
Mongke Khan summoned a Franciscan friar named William of Rubruck (sent by Louis IX of France), along with Muslim and Buddhist representatives, for a no-holds-barred spiritual showdown.
Each had a translator. Each had a chance to argue their truth. But here’s the twist: Mongke forbade anyone from insulting another faith. No cheap shots. No holy slander. Just arguments, logic, and a test of ideas.
Rubruck, in his letters, described how the Buddhists chanted, the Muslims countered with the Quran, and he tried to make his case through Christian theology. No one “won.” That wasn’t the point. Mongke listened. He wanted knowledge, not conversion.
Why Did the Mongols Care?
Part of it was political. When you rule dozens of cultures, you can’t pick favorites too openly.
But part of it was sincere curiosity. The Mongols believed in a sky god, Tengri, but weren’t dogmatic. They wanted to harness spiritual power, and they genuinely wondered which faith had the answers to life’s big questions. To them, it was almost scientific.
Also, they kind of loved chaos. And what’s more chaotic than pitting a priest against a monk against an imam and telling them to go nuts (respectfully)?
Faith Under the Tent: The Vibe
Imagine it. Animal-hide tents flapping in the steppe wind. Tables of scrolls and sacred books. The smell of yak milk and incense. A rabbi arguing with a Daoist sage while a Mongol prince nods along, sipping fermented mare’s milk.
It was surreal. But it happened. Multiple times. The Mongols institutionalized interfaith curiosity before most of Europe had even figured out religious tolerance.
The Legacy We Forgot
We remember the Mongols for the cities they burned. But not for the conversations they started.
These debates didn’t end war. They didn’t end persecution. But they did something radical: they modeled respectful disagreement at the highest level of power. And they left behind a record of one of the first state-sponsored efforts to understand, not suppress, religious diversity.
In an era where people are still fighting over faith, maybe we should all take a weird little note from the Mongols: Sit down. Shut up. Listen. And maybe, just maybe, argue like a 13th-century khan is watching.
Sources:
1. William of Rubruck’s Journey to the East (Medieval Sourcebook)
2. “The Mongols and Religious Freedom” University of Pennsylvania
3. National Geographic: Genghis Khan and the Mongol Empire