Essay

By Noam Backner

Camels, Turks, and Climate Change

What happens when you cross an Arabian camel with a two-humped Bactrian?

A 16th-century Persian miniature showing two camels wrestling in a landscape.
A 16th-century Persian miniature showing two camels wrestling in a landscape.

What happens when you cross an Arabian camel with a two-humped Bactrian?

If you have reached a certain stage in life, you already know the answer is not a three-humped camel, but a "Bukht."

While we usually think of Arabian and Bactrian camels as inhabiting entirely different worlds—hot and cold deserts, respectively—there was once a time when shifting climates allowed for a much greater overlap between these graceful beasts. Unsurprisingly, the primary meeting ground for the two species was Central Asia.

The decision to cross these two breeds was entirely intentional and driven by cold pragmatism. The resulting hybrid (Camelus bactrianus × Camelus dromedarius), known as a "Bukht" or *Tülu* in Turkish, is the ultimate beast of burden. Taller, stronger, and more resilient than either parent, these hybrids were built to endure the grueling trade routes that spanned the Asian continent.

We find evidence of their prevalence even in the Hadith, specifically in verses concerning the laws of modesty. These texts warn women against wrapping their hair in such excessive layers of fabric and turbans that they "resemble the humps of the Bukht" (Sahih Muslim), a comparison that highlights the sheer size of the hybrid’s hump.

The Bukht’s utility, docile nature, and stamina on the Silk Road led various Central Asian groups to master the art of hybridization. The Turks were likely the pioneers of this craft. Among them were the Seljuks, a nomadic tribe that kept their herds in the regions north of the Caspian Sea.

Research suggests that a period of climatic cooling in Central Asia during the ninth and tenth centuries decimated the Seljuks' Arabian camel herds, forcing them to migrate south in search of warmer pastures. This migration brought the tribes into the territories of the Samanid and Ghaznavid kingdoms, where they soon became indispensable in military affairs. Eventually, they "accidentally" founded the Seljuk Empire, which at its height ruled from the borders of China to Anatolia.

A vestige of this Seljuk affection for the hybrid camel survived in their descendants, the Ottoman Sultans. The Ottomans kept *Tülu* in their army, tasking the most distinguished among them with carrying the massive drums that spurred the Janissary corps toward the gates of Vienna. Legend has it that when one of these creatures went deaf from the constant pounding of the drums, it was declared a *Ghazi*—a holy warrior—and granted the right to roam Istanbul at will, grazing on delicacies in the Bosphorus markets. In recent years, the skeleton of such a hybrid was discovered in an Austrian cellar, a silent witness to the Ottoman siege of 1683. This Turkish affinity for the camel persists today in the form of annual wrestling matches, where rutting, mouth-foaming males grapple to the ground while crowds cheer and place their bets.

In the photos: A 16th-century miniature depicting hybrid camel wrestling,

A modern camel wrestling match between the camels "Rambo" and "Ulugh Beg,"

And a decorated *Haft Rang* (seven colors) plate from the Seljuk period, showing the renowned and charming war hero Bahram Gur piercing deer with arrows, moments before he pushes his partner under his camel's feet to be trampled to death.

Two large camels wrestling in a modern arena surrounded by spectators.
A Seljuk-era ceramic plate depicting a figure on a camel hunting deer.

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