The Fortress of the Assassins seems like something out of a bad fantasy story:
The Hashshashin were formed by Hassan-i-Sabah, a follower of the Isma’ili sect of Shi’ite Islam. Hassan left his home in Cairo over a succession dispute between two heirs to the Fatimid Caliphate. After choosing the wrong heir to support, Hassan found himself escaping to Persia after spending a short period in a political prison. Determined to avenge himself upon the Fatimids while also wiping out his traditional Sunni enemies, Hassan sought and found the ideal stronghold: the fortress of Alamut, also known as “The Eagle’s Nest.” Located northwest of Tehran, just south of the Caspian Sea, Alamut was an imposing sight. Nestled atop a 2,100m mountain with only one near-vertical approach to the fortress, the Eagle’s Nest was nearly impregnable.
Perhaps you’ve heard that the assassins earned their name by consuming hashish:
Only conjecture and myth remain to explain the origins of the Assassins’ name. Some theories link the name to the drug hashish, supposedly taken before battle or as initiation into the cult. A more probable competing theory is that the name is derived from the name of their leader Hassan-i-Sabah, since “Hashshashin” literally means “followers of Hassan.” The name itself was a derogatory term used by Europeans to describe the supposedly hashish-using sect. The term “assassin” most likely comes from a pet name Hassan had for his followers: Assassiyun, or “people who are faithful to the foundation of the faith.” The Assassins preferred to call themselves fedayeen. The word, Arabic for “one who is ready to sacrifice themselves for a cause,” was co-opted by groups in Palestine, Armenia, Iraq and Iran for their own organizations during numerous conflicts in the 20th century.
Plus ça change…
This story should be familiar to anyone who’s seen Conan the Barbarian:
Two men in the year 1092 stood on the ramparts of a medieval castle — the Eagle’s Nest — perched high upon the crags of the Persian mountains: the personal representative of the Emperor and the veiled figure who claimed to be the incarnation of God on earth. Hasan, son of Sabah, Sheikh of the Mountains and leader of the Assassins, spoke: “You see that devotee standing guard on yonder turret-top? Watch!”He made a signal. Instantly the white-robed figure threw up his hands in salutation, and cast himself two thousand feet into the foaming torrent which surrounded the fortress.
“I have seventy thousand men — and women — throughout Asia, each one of them ready to do my bidding. Can your master, Malik Shah, say the same? And he asks me to surrender to his sovereignty! This is your answer. Go!”
The historical assassins were fanatical terrorists, not super-stealthy proto-ninjas:
Eschewing weapons that allowed possible escape, the Hashshashin preferred to kill up close, with a dagger, and preferably in public. Many targets were assassinated inside a mosque during Friday prayer. Like the modern terrorist, much of the mystique of the Assassins was the fear they instilled in their enemies, and their seemingly endless pursuit of their marks. By murdering in public, they assured the story would travel quickly. It mattered little that the assassin himself, exposed and vulnerable after the attack, usually died at the hands of nearby guards; his mission was accomplished and his place in heaven sealed.