The Crusades Through Arab Eyes

“These Occidentals bore scant resemblance to the mercenaries to whom the Turks were accustomed. Although their number included several hundred knights and a significant number of foot-soldiers, there were also thousands of women children and old people in rags. They had the air of some wretched tribe evicted from their lands by an invader. It was also reported that they all wore strips of cloth and the shape of a cross sewn onto the backs of their garments.”

Maalouf describes the Seljuk view of the “People’s Crusade,” the first, unsuccessful wave of the First Crusade. Though this wave achieved little and the army comprised a mix of knights, peasants, women, and children, it served as a warning to the Turks and reflected the religious fanaticism of the invaders. This warning they largely ignored, due to The Context of Inter-Muslim Political Turmoil.

“And yet, rarely in history has a victory proved so costly to those who had won it.”

The Seljuks celebrated their routing of the People’s Crusade. This victory, however, was hollow since a larger wave of reinforcements soon arrived in the east. This wave, which the French nobility headed, took Nicaea, the Sultanate of Rum’s capital, before making further incursions and finally conquering Jerusalem.

“Antioch as elsewhere, the Christians of the Middle East—Greeks, Armenians, Maronites, Jacobites—Suffered a double oppression with the arrival of the Franj: their Western coreligionists suspected them of sympathy for the Saracens and treated them as subjects of inferior rank, while their Muslim compatriots often saw them as natural allies of the invaders. Period. Indeed, the boundary between religious and national affiliation was practically nonexistent.”

Maalouf highlights the complexity of the Crusading for those who lived in the Holy Land. Eastern Christians, despite their common background, were of varied ethnicities, and the Franks cast suspicion on them for their commonalities with their Muslim neighbors. Those Islamic neighbors, however, similarly viewed Eastern Orthodox Christians with suspicion because they were Christian like the Franj, and thus might support the Crusades and conspire against their neighbors from within.

“Thus did the powerful Muslim army disintegrate ‘without a stroke of sword or Lance, without the firing of a single arrow.’”

Maalouf quotes an Arab history that laments the atabeg Karbūqa’s retreat from Antioch after the Crusaders claimed to have found a sacred religious relic, the Holy Lance. Muslim solidarity fractured within the encampment, which led soldiers to desert. Karbūqa was forced to negotiate a truce and his defensive operation fell apart without any bloodshed. This retreat left Syria undefended and vulnerable to further Frankish gains.

“Not even their coreligionists were spared. One of the first measures taken by the Franj was to expel from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre all the priests of Oriental rites—Greeks, Georgians, Armenians, Copts, and Syrians—who used to officiate jointly in accordance with an old tradition respected by all previous conquerors.”

Neither religious nor ethnic identity spared those whom the Crusaders slaughtered when they breached Jerusalem’s walls in 1099. The Franj even resorted to taking the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built near the site where Christians believed Christ was buried, and thus an important site of pilgrimage. This seizure illustrates the Crusaders’ belief that their war was a “pilgrimage,” but in this case, they targeted not only Muslims but the eastern Christians who shared the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and performed masses there. They also treated non-Catholic Christians as the enemy.

“The negligence of the Muslim emirs also saved the Franj from annihilation in the north. The principality that Bohemond had founded in Antioch remained leaderless (and practically without an army) for seven months after his capture in August 1100, but none of the neighboring monarchs […] dreamed of taking advantage of the situation.”

Maalouf blames Islamic rule’s decentralization, Muslim incompetence, and The Context of Inter-Muslim Political Turmoil for missed opportunities in the First Crusade’s wake. The Syrian princes could have taken advantage of Bohemond of Antioch’s imprisonment to make advances, but political incompetence paralyzed them.

“[In] the space of 18 months, three of the most renowned cities of the Arab world—Tripoli, Beirut and Saida—had been taken and sacked, their inhabitants massacred or deported, their emirs, qādīs, and experts on religious law killed or forced into exile, her mosques profaned.”

The First Crusade’s advances were swift and devastating for the “Arab world,” according to Maalouf. This statement is one example of how he sometimes equates Arab and Muslim. Here he clearly references Muslim institutions and positions while ignoring that these cities were multi-ethnic, a fact he acknowledges elsewhere in the text. The First Crusade delivered a crushing blow to the east, particularly territories ruled by Muslims and comprised of peoples from various ethnic and religious backgrounds.

“[With] the Baghdad riots, the Ascalon insurrection, and the resistance in Tyre, a wind of revolt began to surge through the region. A growing number of Arabs felt an equally intense hatred for the invaders and for the majority of the Muslim leaders, whom they accused of negligence or even treason.”

Resistance coalesced years after the First Crusade, as some Muslim victories emboldened commanders to go on the offensive. Nevertheless, Syria’s politically-fractured nature was still a problem, which many in the region recognized. This anger invigorated the call for jihād (See: Index of Terms).

“[H]e swiftly and systematically reconquered the Frankish possessions around the city. The military skill of this 40-year-old Turkish emir, his spirit of determination, his rejection of any compromise with the Franj, his sobriety, and finally, the role of honor of his successive victories, were in sharp contrast to the disconcerting mediocrity of the other Muslim princes.”

The Turkish emir, Balak, played a significant role in igniting Muslim resistance to the Crusaders. He stands in contrast to other regional princes whose incompetence and egos plagued early efforts to defend Syria and Palestine against the Franj.

“Never had the threat represented by the Assassins been so serious. They were no longer simply pests, but had become a plague, torturing the Arab world at a time when all its energies were required to confront the Frankish occupation.”

Shia extremists, the Assassins, played a decisive role in Middle Eastern politics in the Middle Ages because they resented the imposition of Sunni rule in Syria and wanted to reunite Syria with Egypt, then governed by the Shia Fatimid caliphs. They therefore interfered in regional politics, murdering opponents who stood in the way of this reunification and thus hindering Muslim unification against the Franj.

“It was with good reason that Zangī would one day be hailed as the first great combatant of the jihād against the Franj. Before him, Turkish generals would arrive in Syria, accompanied by troops anxious to engage in plunder and depart with as much money and booty as possible. The effects of their victories were rapidly wiped out by subsequent defeats. Troops were demobilized one year, only to be remobilized the next.”

The atebag, Zangī, is one of the first Muslim leaders who strived to unify the Islamic world against the Frankish threat. He was a shrewd political thinker who considered the long-term effects of the conflict and served the interests of his subjects rather than himself—an important step toward Franj expulsion.

“Even more important—and herein lay his genius—he [Nūr al-Dīn] was able to weld these virtues into a formidable political weapon. As far back as the middle of the twelfth century, he understood the invaluable role of psychological mobilization, and he therefore built a genuine propaganda apparatus.”

Zangī’s son proved more capable than his father and paved the way for Saladin’s triumphant reconquest of Jerusalem. He deliberately crafted propaganda that would inspire fellow Muslims to join the jihād, thus solving the problem of inter-Islamic conflict that hindered early defensive efforts.

“The first time since the beginning of the Frankish wars, the two great Syrian metropolises, Aleppo and Damascus, were united in a single state. Under the authority of a 37-year-old prince who was determined to prosecute the struggle against the occupier.”

Nūr al-Dīn built on his father, Zangi’s, successes. Aleppo and Damascus’s union formed a Syrian base from which he made further conquests, like taking Shayzar, building the framework for what became the Ayyubid Empire under Saladin, and which later passed to the Mamluks, who successfully expelled the Franj.

“His death marked the end of an era, but also the beginning of another. One whose repercussions would be infinitely greater.”

Nūr al-Dīn fell ill in 1157 and died 18 months later. His demise, however, did not lead his Syrian state to collapse. Rather, power passed to Saladin, who joined Egypt and Syria into a single Ayyubid Empire that made further incursions against the Franks, including retaking Jerusalem.

“Can one blame Saladin's panegyrists for detecting the hand of Providence in this succession of unexpected events?”

Saladin (See: Key Figures), a Kurdish officer under Nūr al-Dīn, rose to prominence during his superior’s lifetime, raising Nūr al-Dīn’s suspicions but never fully confirming his fears. Nūr al-Dīn’s 11-year-old son succeeded him. The troublesome King of Jerusalem, Amalric, died soon after and his 13-year-old son, Baldwin, plagued by leprosy, inherited the throne. Neither could viably challenge Saladin. However, the Byzantine Emperor, Manuel I Comnenos, could. Indeed, the Byzantine military challenged Nūr al-Dīn for over a decade. The Seljuk prince Kilij Arslan II finally defeated them at the Battle of Myriokephalon (1176) and the emperor died shortly after. The primary sources on Saladin thus view his triumphs as God’s will, believing Fate converged to provide openings for Saladin’s successes, including the reconquest of Jerusalem.

“Moreover, the Orthodox and Jacobite Oriental Christians of Jerusalem were favorable to Saladin—especially the clergy, for they had been treated with unrelenting disdain by the Latin prelates.”

Maalouf presents Saladin as a humble, compassionate, and well-liked ruler, even by non-Muslims. The Crusaders treated Eastern Orthodox Christians in Jerusalem brutally. For example, they killed the priests at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre for not revealing where the relic of the True Cross was hidden. These Orthodox Christians thus viewed Saladin as a liberator, and even agreed to open Jerusalem’s gates to allow his troops admission in 1187. This incident reflects Crusading as a Multi-Ethnic Religious Conflict.

“Saladin had conquered Jerusalem not to amass gold, and still less to seek vengeance. His prime objective, as he himself explained, was to do his duty before his God and his faith.”

Saladin’s motives differed from the Syrian emirs who encountered the First Crusaders and failed to form a cohesive resistance in the interests of the Islamic world. Maalouf again presents the sultan as a humble and religiously devout—but not fanatical—man who saw his conquests as Divine Providence.

“33-year-old red-headed giant who wore the English crown, was the prototype of the belligerent and flighty king whose noble ideals did little to conceal his baffling brutality and complete lack of scruples.”

Maalouf here contrasts Saladin and Richard I the Lionhearted. Modern Western tradition elevates Richard as a heroic Crusading figure, whereas Maalouf stresses his warmongering nature, arrogance, and brutality. Richard’s personality is thus juxtaposed unfavorably with Saladin’s mercy, generosity, and humility.

“From reinforcing the Frankish settlements in Syria, the demented Constantinople escapade dealt them a severe blow.”

The Fourth Crusade that departed from Venice in the late 1100s was intended to target Egypt, followed by the Holy Land. However, a series of financial blunders and lack of interest in the Crusade led these men to sack the Croatian city of Zara before they headed to Constantinople at the request of a deposed Byzantine prince, Alexius IV Angelos, who promised to finance them if they helped him regain power. They did, but he reneged on his promise, causing the Crusaders to sack the Byzantine capital and later conquer it, establishing a short-lived Latin Empire in the east. The Fourth Crusade’s diversion left the Franj in Syria vulnerable to further Muslim incursions.

“He regarded the question of Jerusalem as primarily political and military; the religious aspect was relevant only to the extent that it influenced public opinion. Frederick, who felt no closer to Christianity than to Islam, took an identical attitude. If he wanted to take possession of the Holy City, it was not to commune with his thoughts at the tomb of Christ but because of success of that kind which strengthened his position and his struggle against the pope.”

The Holy Roman Emperor and King of Sicily, Frederick II Hohenstaufen, is the lone European Crusader to appear in a favorable light in Maalouf’s text. Frederick stands out because he was well-acquainted with Islamic and Arabic learning, due to his upbringing in Italy. Furthermore, he was politically, rather than religiously motivated to reconquer Jerusalem because the Pope had recently excommunicated him. Thus, his control over the Holy City would be a powerful weapon against the late medieval Papal monarchy.

“Al-Kāmil had never gone so far in appeasement!”

Al-Kāmil’s successor and nephew, al-Nāsir, took Jerusalem from the Franj, who had regained it under Frederick II Hohenstaufen in 1229. However, this victory was meaningless because al-Nāsir quickly retreated, believing it impossible to hold onto the city. He even allied with the Franks in the war of succession against his cousins, all vying for power after al-Kāmil’s death, which speaks once again to The Context of Inter-Muslim Political Turmoil. He agreed to officially acknowledge of Jerusalem as a Frankish city in 1243, but also offered to have Muslim clerics leave Haram al-Sharīf (the Temple Mount), the site of the al-Aqsa Mosque. Maalouf finds this a shocking act of submission.

“A replacement of the Ayyubids by the Mamluks marked a clear hardening of the Muslim world’s attitude toward the invaders.”

The Ayyubid sultans placated and negotiated with the Franj while the Mamluk dynasty that followed resolutely confronted the remaining Frankish threat. For example, they refused to release the captured Crusader King Louis IX of France unless all troops left Egypt and they paid a hefty ransom. This hardline position was essential to their defensive operations against the Mongol hordes, who soon arrived in the Middle East, and resulted in the final ejection of the Franj.

“The epoch of the Crusades ignited a genuine economic and cultural revolution in Western Europe. In the Orient these holy wars led to long centuries of decadence and obscurantism. Assaulted from all quarters, the Muslim world turned in on itself. It became oversensitive, defensive, intolerant, sterile—attitudes that grew steadily worse, as worldwide evolution, a process from which the Muslim world felt excluded, continued […] Modernism became alien.”

Maalouf contrasts Western Europe and the Islamic world in his Epilogue, arguing for The Links Between Crusade History and Contemporary Politics. He suggests that the Crusades contributed to the destruction of Muslim culture and resulted in an Islamic world that views the West with disdain. This resentment, he suggests, has excluded modern Muslim nations from the modernization that characterizes the West. However, this perspective essentializes and homogenizes Muslims while ignoring the role that 19th-century European imperialism played in fostering tensions between the West and majority-Muslim countries—an oversight that some historians object to in Maalouf’s work.