Why Did Kublai Khan’s Mongols Fail to Conquer Japan?
Have you ever wondered how the army of Genghis Khan’s grandson, Khan Kublai, managed to fail twice in invading Japan, in 1274 and 1281?
Modern myth-making paints a heroic rout of the invaders. The Japanese take great pride in this: patriotic songs have been written on the subject, films made, and video games created.
Yes, the famous “kamikaze” typhoon (divine wind) really did destroy the Mongol fleet. Yes, the Mongols were kings of the steppe, not the sea. But let’s look deeper.
Factor №1: A “Hired” Army
Let’s look at the numerical composition of the Mongol army in the first expedition. Of the roughly 30,000 men in the invasion force, only about 5,000 were ethnic Mongols. The rest were 6,000–8,000 Koreans, 15,000 soldiers from Chinese and Jurchen units, plus thousands of Korean sailors.
Did these “allies” share the famous Mongol discipline? A big question mark. As was their motivation: why would recently conquered Chinese and Koreans die for Mongol ambitions in a relatively poor Japan? If China was the wealthiest country of the medieval world, what was the point of plundering the Japanese? During the second invasion (1281), the situation worsened: Mongol, Korean, and Chinese commanders openly clashed with one another, leading to fatal logistical failures.
Factor №2: The Japanese Didn’t Sit Idle
After the first landing, the Kamakura shogunate realized the era of “ritual warfare” was over. What does that mean?
In the historical chronicle of the time, “Hachiman Gudōkun,” samurai bitterly describe Mongol tactics: “According to our way of waging battle, we first call out the enemy by name and list his titles, then fight him one-on-one. But the Mongols paid no attention to etiquette whatsoever. They threw themselves into slaughter, seized stragglers from the army, and killed them.”
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This shock led to total mobilization. Over six years, the Japanese built a 20-kilometer stone defensive wall (Genkō Bōrui) around Hakata Bay. When the Mongols returned in 1281, their cavalry simply couldn’t disembark and deploy. The army got stuck on the ships, becoming a perfect target for the typhoon.
Factor №3: The Myth of the “Dashing Swordsman”
Another widespread myth: the samurai as a swordsman with a katana. This is a romanticized image from the Edo era (17th–19th centuries).
In reality, in the 13th century (the Kamakura period), the samurai’s primary and principal weapon was the bow. Moreover, a samurai of that era wasn’t called a “swordsman” but a follower of “the Way of the Bow and Horse.”
Any military specialist knows: if you have a weapon that strikes at 100 meters, it’s foolish to go in with one that strikes at 1 meter. Samurai tactics were built around the elite mounted archer.
A sword was expensive. A good blade was passed down through generations, had its own name, and was considered a vessel for the warrior’s soul. Charging into the melee, risking that priceless artifact, was a measure of last resort. The sword was a weapon of last resort — and a symbol of status.
When it came to close combat, the Japanese met the enemy with naginata (the Japanese equivalent of a halberd). Look at the attached image — two samurai standing over a slain Mongol’s body: one holds a bow, the other a naginata.
Note: both the massive yumi bow and the naginata require both hands to use. That’s why shields, so widespread in European warfare, never gained mass adoption in Japan. Nor did heavy solid iron armor, which reduced mobility and interfered with archery.
So the 13th-century samurai was, first and foremost, not a “dashing swordsman” but a “dashing marksman.”
(Incidentally, in the 13th century samurai didn’t carry the katana but the tachi — a longer, more strongly curved sword, worn suspended from the belt with the edge facing down, so it could be drawn easily on horseback while riding.)
Bottom line: The Mongols lost not just because of the typhoon. They ran into low motivation within their multinational army, hit a wall of formidable engineering works, and found themselves in an unfamiliar theater of war — one where their greatest strength, mobility, was neutralized by the Japanese defenders’ own sufficient mobility.
