Amir Timur’s Reforms in Public Administration

Student of Group 1-24, History Major, Faculty of Social Sciences, Shahrisabz State Pedagogical Institute

Eshmamatova Oysanam Ulmasovna

Abstract

This article analyzes Amir Timur’s place in world history, focusing on the reforms he implemented in public administration, domestic policy, and foreign policy, all of which contributed to consolidating his power. In advanced Western European countries such as Germany, France, and England, scholars and statesmen held Amir Timur in high esteem. Scientific and artistic works were dedicated to him, he was revered, his name was included in educational curricula, and museums were established.

Keywords: Islamic power, law and order, justice, Timur’s decrees, great statesman, Timurid state

Introduction: Amir Timur (1336–1405) implemented significant reforms in public administration, establishing a strong, centralized state system. His governance policies were founded on order, discipline, justice, and military strength. Based on the demands and necessities of his time, Sohibkiran Amir Timur refined public administration, imbuing it with a new spirit and substance. Although the state structure was rooted in military and political principles, it aimed to protect the interests of all social strata to foster societal development. Under Amir Timur, public administration comprised two institutions: the court and the ministry (divan). The Supreme Ruler personally managed the court. The devonbegi (prime minister) led the executive power. The divan included the Minister of War, the Minister of Property and Taxation, and the Minister of Finance. The statehood and spirituality of the era of Amir Timur and the Timurids hold a special place in our people’s history due to their power, substance, educational value, and influence.[2] In world history, Amir Timur is recognized not only as a great commander and statesman who established a powerful and prosperous state. Sohibkiron was an outstanding diplomat of his time, advocating for the establishment of amicable relations between states and the development of economic ties. He was a great patron of scholars and rulers, architects and poets, earning widespread renown.[1]

 From this perspective, the historical and legal study of Timur’s statutes is of particular relevance. After all, our past heritage, its rich statehood and legal foundations, in particular, the just principles applied in the state and law during the reign of Amir Timur, serve our independence today and contribute to the formation of a high political, moral and legal culture of the individual. The main historical sources covering the life and activities of Amir Timur are extremely numerous and diverse, which indicates that his name, role in world history are incomparable and his great popularity. [3]

Literature review and methodology: Abdulakhad Literature Analysis Mukhammadjanov’s treatise “Amir Timur” published in 2011 provides information about Sahibkiran’s appearance on the state stage, his military campaigns, relations with neighboring countries, and the reforms he carried out. In the 1320s, the Mongol rulers began to dominate Central Asia, and as a result, the foundations of our science and culture, which had been restored by the intelligence of Abu Nasr al-Farabi, Musa al-Khwarizmi, Abu Ali ibn Sina, Abu Rayhan al-Biruni, Ahmad Yugnaki, and Mahmud Kashgari, began to crumble, and the dominant ideology, Islam, also lost much of its status. Because Chigatai Khan, who had taken over Transoxiana as his ulus, was a fierce enemy of Islam. The people of Transoxiana, who were left in the clutches of the enemy, were determined to fight for freedom and sought a spiritual foundation that would transform the idea of independence they had cherished in their hearts into a powerful force and movement. [4]Discussion and conclusions: Amir Temur was a great commander and statesman who introduced unique and strong principles in the field of state administration. His system of government was built on the basis of a strong centralized state, developed on the basis of strict discipline, justice, and military order. Discussion (Main features of Amir Temur’s rule. “Tuzuklar” system Amir Temur described his system of government in his work “Temur’s Tuzuklar”. It set out the rules for state management, military policy, and social order. [3] Centralized state He ruled the state with a strong central authority and established strong discipline. Justice and order He introduced a method of governance based on the principle of “Strength is in justice”.

Administrative and territorial administration – He divided the country into provinces and appointed loyal noyons and officials to each province. Results (Effects of Amir Temur’s rule) A powerful empire was established Amir Temur took control of vast territories from Central Asia to India in a short time. Order and discipline were ensured Internal conflicts were eliminated and governance based on laws was established. Amir Temur’s style of governance was a study not only in his time, but also for statesmen and military strategists in subsequent centuries and remains an experiment worth analyzing. [4]

Summary: The style of government of Amir Temur was built on the basis of a centralized monarchy, based on the principles of strict discipline and justice. He followed the laws and regulations called “Temur’s Regulations” in state administration. Meritocracy, military discipline, and a strong central government played an important role in governance. Amir Temur strengthened his kingdom through military campaigns and political diplomacy, and also paid attention to the development of science and culture. As a result of his rule, a great empire was formed and strong economic, political, and cultural development occurred. The prosperity of the state created the basis for the rise of science, art, and architecture. Samarkand became the cultural and scientific center of the world. After Amir Temur, his descendants ruled the state, but due to internal conflicts and external invasions, the power of the Temurid state weakened and was finally abolished by the Shaybanids in 1507. Thus, the state of Amir Temur was a powerful empire in its time, and its political and cultural heritage has been preserved to this day.

Sources:

1.Abdulahad Muhammadjanov “Amir Temur ” risolasi 2011-yil

2.Muhammad Ali va Toʻlqin hayit “Amir Temur va Temuriylar saltanati”

3.Kapyunning “Temur saltanati boʻylab”

4.E.Bloshening “Temur qabrtoshidagi bitiklar”

5.Kruasiyning “Temuriylar davrida Samarqand yodgorliklari”

Saying No to Nirvana

Until I learn and earn merits of this human birth

Cultivating loving care and concern like mother earth

Mother earth keeping her promise and word

Loving her children, she walks upon edge of sword

If earth stumbles slightly away from the Sun

That will turn oceans in icy desert, killing everyone

If earth moves a little closer to Sun in her orbit

That will burn all upon earth turning it into hell’s pit.

Earth works every moment, giving her best

Making for her children day to work and night to rest

If earth never turns on her axis, making no day or night

Half of earth will burn and half will reel under freezing fright.

With her seasons, earth distributes her love to all

Without discrimination to a mountain or a mole

She asks her clouds to be careful to rain drop by drop

For giving water to every plant of a farmer’s crop

Until I learn and earn holy merits becoming worth

If I can turn into love and light like mother earth

Crying for Nirvana without loving wisdom like a fool

How could I wish to run away from my earth school

Until I incorporate love and light in my being

Until I cultivate loving eyes for cosmic blessing

Until I become responsible earth citizen here

What good nirvana will do to an escapist under fear ?

All rights reserved

 

__________

The Roma Spirit 

I lived 

Like an earthly native

With loving motive

Enamored with

Love of humanity

Travelling ever

To meet humane

And kind community

Travelling light

Keeping only

Love in sight

I embraced

My humble poverty

I ignored

The material property

For the bargain

Of my all loving heart

I let go

Wealth and its art

I settled no where

To raise the wall

And to call

The land, 

The river and air

As my own share

With unconditional love and compassion

My universal Roma Spirit 

Craved to enrich the human nation

I moved on 

Like a wind 

Carrying the fragrance

From the flower

And its sacred essence

To the distant

Civilizations upon earth

Spreading human worth

Of heavenly hearth

Now,

The land owners

And the miners

Of wealth and jewels

Tell me, 

You lived

Like a vagabond

Sorry, it is too late

To accommodate

They said,

We have

Divided all the earth

Its forests and its rivers 

And its heavenly hearth

To raise 

Our material worth

Laden with their gold

So very bold

Scolding Roma

They announced 

By spiritual wisdom

You may be tall

But without wealth

You are 

A lost soul, Pal

Lonely at the Top

I climbed to the top of the world.
The Statue of Liberty has secret stairs. 
They go right up to the torch
and narrow as you go.
Only one person can touch the torch
and see the paint-brush truth of its distant splendor.

At the top,
there is nowhere else to go.
A child might climb on the torch itself.
The adult sees only danger;
where the steps end so do I.

Carefully, I turn around,
Survey all beneath me:
the island and harbor,
the tiny people and Fisher-Price buildings,
Like the toys I had when I was small:
I am their God.

But what can a God do but stare
and be stared at with moribund reverence?
I am above it all.
When I was a child,
I could touch my toys,
move them around.
I can do so no longer,
nor can I swim in the harbor 
or walk the land,
so I look up.

The twinkling lights,
New worlds to dominate,
transform, the last chance 
for a god to matter.

I must come down
backwards, the way I came,
careful not to trample or be trampled
by those I have passed along the way.



What Standing Up to Tyranny Looks Like


Crowded beach.
Party for all.
Group of hooligans crash
with big guns and armbands.

They laugh loud and announce
they will shoot their guns over the sea,
disrupt the quiet, peaceful brunch
with their monotone supremacy.

Our general jogs over,
with no uniform or rank,
just a sleeveless jacket
and quiet, personal energy

to tell them they are welcome,
but their threats are not.
He cannot arrest them, they know,
or force them to leave.

Alone, he tries to keep the peace
with young men who desire to end it.
He jogs off, getting in the last word,
for all that words matter.

The hooligans proceed to fire
their munitions, pollute
the air and sea
and laugh and laugh.



If a Certain Politician Has His Way


The loss of income 
and transportation
is not as bad
as the loss of purpose.

That’s why I’m excited
when the library accepts
my offer to volunteer.
They tell me to come in on Monday
to fill out the paperwork.
Then on Tuesday a van
will escort me to the job site
to see how things work out.

I can’t wait to dive in,
to stack books or paint walls,
whatever they ask of me.
I go in a few days early
to check the place out
and park my bike in the hall
as there are no bike stands outside,
an antiquated convenience
no longer needed in a nation
of super rich and unseen poor.

I stroll into the lobby
and ask a librarian
if I can leave my bike where it is.
She goes with me and sees
the bike is quite large—an obstruction,
she labels it, even though the hallway
is wide. She assists me,

as librarians do, in finding
a more suitable location
in a building undesigned
for the likes of me.



Solidarity

Lunch in these perilous times
is risky. Still we meet,
hash our plans in silent rebellion
over broth and cheap tea,
the three of us with nothing in common
but our vision.

The overlords catch on.
They choose to punish me, the traitor
to their class. They grab my body
with their invisible force and raise me
toward their searing white light.

A pair of hands grab my leg.
Tentacles envelop the other.
My co-conspirators reveal themselves,
refusing to let me go,
refusing to obey,
suspending me in the air.

The overlords, not known for giving up,
relinquish their light. I fall to the café floor.
An unseen voice tells us we will pay.
We know. We already have paid 
with a thousand percent interest.

 

Greg Gildersleeve lives in the Kansas City area where he teaches college courses in composition, technical writing, and creative writing. He authored two Young Adult novels, The Power Club (2017) and The Secret Club (2020), and a novella, False Alarm (2015). His work has appeared in newsletters The Teaching Professor and Faculty Focus. He won the Publication Award of Johnson County Community College, Overland Park KS. 

MOVING DAY CRIME SCENE

When it’s happening, we feel like burglars

robbing ourselves, ransacking the house,

stealing every piece of furniture

and clothing, each book, vacation memento,

the CD’s, the food, the brooms, the umbrellas,

the plants in pots, even the dog’s bowl.

You name it and we steal it from

the unsuspecting people who’ve

livedt here all these years.

We look back from the end of the street

and see, with nothing left to hold it together,

time collapse upon itself.

It’s like a great eraser abrasing its

way across a chalk-board, rubbing

the lives, their meaning, into oblivion.

A FARM OVERGROWN

I scour

the rocky soil

where my father

lost his belief

in God’s munificence.

Lyric forest embalms

old hopes

of making a living.

Only some stumps

and abasement survive.

Oh there’s a harvest here

all right

but it lacks the human hand,

merely ratifies.

beauty’s way with failure.

In pebbles,

the generations end,

the names, the dates,

stripped like bark

from the green veneer.

But it’s just the wind,

the shuffle of brush,

amiable bird song

mixed up with

harsh-throated warnings.

In my father’s wake,

everything’s

sprouting and growing,

blooming and shedding.

But nothing takes root

like the stones.

MORNING SPIDER

I’m up early, early enough to watch the night slip away.

As always, I’m at the bottom of a mountain.

As always, I am non-committal as to my first step.

I just sit here as new sun nudges away bits of shadow.

I amuse myself with straight lines because I can’t see where

the bent ones go. Coffee begins its occupation of my veins.

My eyes roll around my face, then settle in their sockets.

The cat, with a chrysanthemum in its lapel, rubs my ankles.

The mountain is descending itself.  At hill height,

it looks up and, with mighty breath, blows its own head off.

Then it flattens out. I can walk across it.

Light enters the room, is selling uncut flowers.

Above, one sky stands in for all the skies that could be.

It’s the ceiling, like a canvas, where, in a far corner,    

a solitary spider signs his name.

NEW MORNING

On a new morning,

the reds, burnt oranges,

of dawn,

fade into fresh light

that becomes

the final arbiter

of stale darkness

and black sky gives way

to pale blue

and downy clouds,

as trees

flap in the brief

flute notes of the breeze

and sunrays

burn away

tiny drops of

water on the grass tips,

wake the flowers,

draw out the petals

from their nighttime fold.

THE WORLD OUTSIDE WHERE IT BELONGS

I am awake,
fingers slow burning
as they grip hot coffee,
heart, a Geiger counter
finding love in your still sleeping body,
and, on the other side,
brain pecking through
the grievances
already assembled
in my thoughts,
in the newspaper glaring
from my laptop.

The world is a sorry place
but the people in it
find such comfort
in nothing more than
a shape in the sheets,
a soft breath contesting
the solid headwinds of my own.
Strangers die
but loved ones live.
Soldiers kill
but no harm comes
to those in bedrooms.

Soon, you too will
rouse from sleep and dreams,
reconvene with what keeps
you up at night:
the wars,
the inequalities,
the murders, the rapes,
the homeless
in their winter blues.

It’s a dangerous world.
We are safe.
Life turns ugly.
We are beautiful.
Others are what we read about.
We’re what we believe.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, River And South and The Alembic. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Paterson Literary Review, White Wall Review and Flights.

At the National Gallery

He’s at the National Gallery

In London

And he realizes

That the people 

Who speak loudly in museums

Probably deserve

Whatever happens to them.

Taylor Dibbert is a poet in Washington, DC. He’s author of, most recently, “On the Rocks.”

The search for Meaning of Life

Everything I have found and lost in between

Come; let us head butt the universe to see what she has got
intense tone of pitiless indifference or irreducible errors
How has it all occurred?
What does it mean to be a human?
Why this chimpanzee brain with sophisticated cognitive abilities?

Minds that can anticipate and conceptualize
Animals in the wild or saviors in mythologies
Where are our proximities in behaviors and perceptions? 

The meaning of life is in the Darwinian reference
Survival, reproduction, and a bit of reciprocal affection
I have mixed it up

With Freudian fixations, denials, displacements, and regressions

The meaning of life is where it is not supposed to be

Repression of basic instincts for civilization progress

The aggressions and revolutions that burn down the order of things are its Discontents

Our symbols of art, literature and culture are pornographic,

Simulated by sexual urge

Why do we have morality for her hymen and not for his tongue?

Life is a pendulum that swings between creativity and death

There is no happiness in human civilizations

We have learned to suppress our instincts for artificial security and progress

Come on the heroes of cartoons, screens, and movies
there is something magical about interpretation
that makes this boring plot so interesting

Follow the trend; go on

Find your meaning in hero worship
we all believe more than we think
between unloading and fading out
Surviving on those useless things that make life worth living

 Oh! Karl Marx, can you make us believe again that

Everything is social, historical, and material

Matter before mind

The meaning of life I am thinking of

Has already been conditioned by the economic realities

To keep my spirit alive, I sat beside a stream

I heard the gentle murmur
Of a sage moon as he was, Rajneesh

Even without thunder, there was
Ma, Ma, Ma
Math, Music, Meditations

My guru of excess

We have become too obsessed with sex

And lost the way into superconsicuoness

In my lonely hours, as I was restless in my bed
I listened to a madman with the voice of Zarathustra
Reason and Madness, Cosmos and Chaos
Probability and Randomness
Combine to create dazzle on the surface of meaninglessness
Nietzsche spoke: you are what you overcome

If life is absurd as you think

You can still create your own meaning

The Prophet of the New Testament sermon told us
Don’t judge, for thou shall be judged
I said to him, I can’t even cast the first stone
I have all the contradictions within

And, for Two Krishnamurti, I admire
J. spoke of truth as pathless land
I observe as I am
Live with choiceless awareness
UG, like a sledgehammer, reminded
Mind is myth, and thinking is against living.
Sages of the Upanishads have said
All is all but all, even if you take out all
And, as the dawn was about to break
Buddha in silence nodded his nothingness

Even if you exist, you don’t
Hare Krishna, I still believe in love
for all the delusions I have racked up on my wall
With Karl Popper, I celebrate open society
and how the human mind works

Shifting between clock and cloud models

Why only the one? Have I been saved by too many?
Let us not look beyond, beneath, or behind something
The meaning of life is like bones and blood
Fire and ice
Struggle between day and night in the twilight sky
Smoke emanating from dead bodies in a funeral pyre
A child dying of bone cancer in a hospital bed
Human fetus aborted to hide an exchange of pleasure
A mother left alone in an old home by her only son
And when you can’t even trust the face of an innocent child
The meaning of life is discouraging, dangerous, and dark

Hanging between silence, signature, and speech

The meaning of life is somewhere between

What you know and don’t know

The meaning of life has not been inscribed in stone

We only have traces of lines drawn on the sand

Distorted by the waves of history
the meaning of life is still recurring and returning
Even after all the explanations, analysis, and interpretations

I only speak for my truth; it doesn’t have to be yours

When Books Breathe: How Stories Transcend Borders, Time, and Silence

When Books Breathe

In a world constantly racing forward, books remain the quiet keepers of human memory. Unlike fleeting trends or temporary platforms, they stay rooted, whispering stories from past centuries into the ears of modern souls. A book doesn’t demand attention; it earns it slowly — through pages that unfold truth, pain, joy, and hope.

When a person opens a book, they don’t just read. They listen — to distant lands, silenced voices, and forgotten times. Through the weight of a well-crafted sentence or the simplicity of a child’s rhyme, literature transcends borders. A young woman in Uzbekistan can feel the struggles of a mother in Sudan, or the joy of a boy in Peru, all through ink and imagination.

Books breathe when we let them live in our minds — when we carry their messages beyond the bookshelf. In this sense, books are alive not because they are printed, but because they are read, shared, and remembered. They wait patiently, knowing their time will come when a reader is ready to receive.

In a noisy age, the stillness of reading becomes a quiet revolution. Through books, we learn not only about the world, but how to become more human within it. They do not speak louder than others — they speak deeper.

Mushtariybegim Ozodbekova is a student and aspiring writer from Uzbekistan. She enjoys exploring literature as a bridge between cultures and generations. Her writing reflects a deep belief in the power of language to inspire empathy and awareness.

This article was inspired by my own experience of discovering books during a time of personal reflection. In today’s fast-paced world, I wanted to write something that reminds us of the silent strength books carry — and how they connect readers across continents, cultures, and time.