With the demonstrations of 1989-90 and the changes they brought about, it appeared as if whole blocks of Mongolian history had emerged from the River Lethe of Marxism-Leninism. What had only been talked about in the privacy of homes, if at all, again became part of the public discourse. Chinggis Khaan in particular, it seemed, was suddenly everywhere, and was to be found in books, statues, names of products and organizations, and plans, sensible and otherwise.1 As one recent book on Chinggis Khaan has put it:
In the 1990s, at the time when the winds of Mongolian democracy blew and everyone was freed from all the old hobbles of class, party and ideology and were free to create, writings by Mongolians about Chinggis Khaan began to flourish. For example: When Sh. Natsagdorj [the famous historian] had become an old man [öndör nastan] and was unwell, in order to tell the true history of Chinggis Khaan to future generations, in 1990 he had his own work, “Chingis Khaany tsadig” published.