Ryan Reeves: Crusades (Part II)

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The Second Crusade

Ryan Reeves: The Second Crusade

Overview

Source clip from Ryan Reeves

Summary points

Maintaining lands conquered after the First Crusade

One of the challenges once land was conquered during the First Crusade was that keeping a hold on it proved to be difficult; they could not just appoint a vassal and walk away, but had to actively maintain the conquered territories.

Moreover, the structure and politics of governance were much different as an occupying force than they were back home in feudal Europe.

Some of these inherent challenges, coupled with external pressures from the Turks and other Muslim neighbors, led to an existential threat to the newly established so-called “Crusader States” (aka Outremer).

Things came to something of a head in 1144 when the northern Crusader State of Edessa fell to Zengi. This territory was of strategic significance, because it controlled northern access to Jerusalem, which was particularly important in holding off invasions from the East.

The launching of the Second Crusade

In response to the fall of Edessa, Pope Eugene III issued another papal bull calling for a second crusade.

Now the Second Crusade in some ways started out better than the First Crusade in that there were no rag-tag peasant armies ravaging the countryside before even reaching the Holy Land. However, the Second Crusade still had to contend with Byzantine imperial authority, and the fact that what the Byzantine Empire cared for was not always the same as the Western crusaders. We already spent quite some time discussing the tension between East and West in our previous discussion of the First Crusade, but the point here is that this was no less true here than it was there.

Given how the Byzantines viewed themselves as the true inheritors of Rome’s legacy—and had not even asked for military aid this time (such that it was not even possible to use that as a fig leaf or pretext for sending large armies into the territories of the Byzantine Empire)—the Byzantines did not look particularly favorably upon the Western armies of the Second Crusade.

In fact, the Eastern Emperor of the time (Manuel I Komnenos) made the crusaders again swear an oath (not at all unlike the famous oath that Alexios I made crusaders swear during the First Crusade). To force their hand, Manuel gated access to food and supplies behind this oath of homage. As one might imagine, the Western crusaders didn’t like this very much.

So just as before, the Byzantine Empire was upset about undisciplined foreign armies tromping about in their territories, and the crusaders were upset by all the threats and strings attached to the aid provided by the Byzantine Empire; nobody was particularly happy.

None of this helped mend the rift from the Great Schism of 1054 or otherwise reduce tensions between East and West.

The failed siege of Damascus in 1148

Now, when the crusading European nobles undertook the Second Crusade, they were at times less focused on the military campaign than the war hawks of the time no doubt would have wished. However, it is likely that some of the “vacation mentality” condemned by other parties was likely exaggerated:

• The immense wealth, massive baggage trains, and high-society behavior of the nobles often gave off certain vibes to onlookers, regardless of how ready their soldiers might have actually been militarily. This means that some people may have simply misunderstood, rather than twisting things with any particular agenda.
• That said, it would have been in the best political interest of the Eastern Empire (or at least some forces therein) to paint the crusaders as lazy and wanton.

Even in the same breath as we note that there may have been a degree of intentional propagandistic smear campaign here, we cannot go too far in defending the nobles on the Second Crusade. The tendency of the nobles to bring their luxurious lifestyles on crusade was evidently enough of a concern that Pope Eugene III explicitly tried to ban it. In his papal bull Quantum praedecessores, he strictly forbade crusaders from bringing expensive clothes, hunting dogs, or falcons. The Pope wanted a penitent holy army, not a leisure expedition.

All this aside, you should not get the impression that the Second Crusade was all easy travel and sightseeing until everything somehow went horribly wrong at Damascus (as we will discuss in a moment). Rather, the French (under Louis VII) suffered catastrophic losses crossing the mountains of Anatolia, and the Germans (under Conrad III) suffered heavy losses in the Battle of Dorylaeum (1147).

So no matter how you slice it, it would be wrong to treat the pre-Damascus Second Crusade as merely being some sort of pleasure tour for the nobles. How can we know this? Well, armies don’t get slaughtered when sightseeing, right?

At any rate, after actually arriving, the crusaders decided to take back Edessa… or so one would have thought, given that the fall of Edessa is sort of what sparked the whole Second Crusade. But instead of Edessa, the crusaders actually set their focus on Damascus.

The problem with the crusaders choosing to attack Damascus was that they just did not have the resources to pull it off; they did not count the cost, so to speak. They tried to surround the city, but did not have enough soldiers to do it effectively.

Lest you think this was a conventional siege that drug on for months in an attempt to starve out the defenders, the crusaders didn’t even get near that far. Rather, the Siege of Damascus in 1148 lasted all of four days before the crusaders were forced into retreating while taking heavy losses.

The failure of the Siege of Damascus had several important consequences:

1. It damaged the relationship between the Crusader States and Western Europe.
2. It contributed to a loss of Christian control in the region.
3. It contributed to Mu’in ad-Din Unur losing control of Damascus to Nur ad-Din.

In this way, the Second Crusade went out with a whimper more than a bang, and ever remained something of an embarrassment.

Follow-on-topic: The terrible power of precedent

We spent a great deal of time in our previous study of the First Crusade explaining how the First Crusade came about, and how it was justified by the people of the time. In many ways, the First Crusade broke new ground, and blazed a new trail. While we may not ultimately agree with what logic was used to justify it, at the very least, arguments were put forward to justify marching hundreds of miles to go wage bloody wars (a point of view that found itself in direct contrast to the non-violence that central church authority had been pushing up to this point).

By way of contrast, the Second Crusade (and all those following) were merely copies of the formula that had been previously established, and by all accounts, seem not to have been quite as concerned with justification. This is not to say that there was no time spent on the matter, but merely that the precedent the First Crusade set meant that crusading as an idea was no longer completely novel and foreign to Europeans, and that had very important practical consequences in how the subsequent crusades played out.

It is a somewhat depressing state of affairs, in my opinion, when popes writing bulls to rustle up support for Yet Another Crusade is no longer noteworthy in the slightest, but merely “just another day in Medieval Europe”. People became more and more accustomed to the idea of engaging in violence in exchange for a plenary indulgence and remission of sin (for example), and entire industries popped up to support the military campaigns. In short, it became woven into the underlying fabric of society in the High Middle Ages.

As in the famous metaphor of a frog being boiled slowly, I think there is a degree of unconscious shifts in attitude that help explain how people could become desensitized to war and religious extremism to this degree. The takeaway point I draw from this is that precedent is a thing of terrible power. If you can ever get your foot in the door by getting the public to accept things “just once”, then it is scarily easy to turn “just once” into something with staying power.

The practical application I see in this for us as modern Christians is that whenever we perceive a situation that might set a dangerous precedent, we should make extra sure that whatever action is being taken has ironclad biblical support. For example, do we want to set the precedent of religious majorities imposing their moral beliefs upon everyone else through politics and control of the governmental system? What happens when Christians no longer hold the reigns, but some different belief system?

Or more apples-to-apples with the Crusades, what about when we see hatred being perpetrated in the name of Christ (be that against immigrants, against people of a different political persuasion, or against whoever else)? Do we understand that if we let it go unopposed, very quickly it will come to permeate the entire Church, just like a little bit of leaven leavens the whole lump (cf. Galatians 5:9)?

I do not think we think in these terms as much as we should. We cannot afford to be any less than perfect in our conduct, because whatever imperfections we allow to stand will quickly multiply out of control. The Bible commands us to police the Church from within (cf. 1 Corinthians 5), and I believe that the wisdom in this is in no small part tied up in the idea of avoiding setting bad precedents that give people a pretext.

The Third Crusade

Ryan Reeves: The Third Crusade

Overview

Source clip from Ryan Reeves

Summary points

Crusade mythologizing: Richard the Lionheart and Saladin

If the Second Crusade is the one one everyone did their best to forget, then the Third Crusade is the one everyone did their best to immortalize. Insofar as one can romanticize something as awful as war and slaughter, the Third Crusade was most certainly romanticized.

Not a small part of this boils down to the fact that the Third Crusade had two of the most legendary characters in the Middle Ages facing off against each other: Richard the Lionheart on the side of the crusaders, and Saladin on the side of the Muslims. Everybody always loves a good showdown between larger-than-life heroes, and so it is really no surprise that the clashes between these two brilliant military commanders always captured the public’s imagination.

Moreover, the fact that in the end the two military men apparently chose to end the fighting in a truce (at least as individuals they did; the fact that it did not survive much past them notwithstanding) sometimes gets brought up as evidence of their personal virtue. Of course, in reality, a good part of this truce was probably less about mutual respect and goodwill and a love of peace (and more about Richard needing to get back home to Europe to deal with court intrigue, and Saladin lacking bargaining power due to having recently lost important battles to Richard), but it doesn’t stop it from being a good story nonetheless.

Saladin’s portrayal in later Western sources (call it 13th century and later) is interesting, because it was not nearly as negative as one might think it would be, given that he was an enemy military commander, and a very successful one at that (given how many defeats he handed the crusaders). In fact, later writings about him almost border on hagiography.

Part of it is that for all of his military prowess, Saladin could also apparently be charitable and merciful. According to sources, he was very far from a greedy tyrant (in fact, one chronicler of his states that he was so poor when he died—on account of giving away all his individual wealth to his subjects—that there was not enough money remaining in his personal coffers to pay for his own funeral and burial). If one is to believe the glowing reports about his personal character (concerning, for example, his piety, his asceticism, his lack of personal greed, and so on), then Saladin was most deserving of ending up a standard-bearer for the Late Medieval notions of chivalry that rose to prominence. In fact, if his personal character was truly as sterling as reported, then Saladin would be a much better example of chivalric idealism than putatively Christian European nobles ever were, and there is some rich irony in this.

I should note that all of this European esteem for Saladin only came later. Immediately after Saladin’s military victories against the crusaders (i.e., in contemporary accounts), he was of course demonized in the propaganda, with all sorts of character assassination going on. It was only after time passed that positive portrayals of him (be they accurate or exaggerated) began to filter back to Europe and reshape his image for the better—for example, reports of his personal generosity, his strict adherence to treaties, his mutual respect with Richard the Lionheart, and so forth. Regardless of how true all this was, it is decidedly surprising on balance: most enemy leaders never achieve even a neutral PR outlook, much less a positive one.

At any rate, the fact that Saladin later came to be perceived as an adversary most worthy of respect—when paired with the already notable fame of Richard the Lionheart—turned accounts of the Third Crusade into the stuff of legend. As I see things, the tales of this renowned chivalric bromance (true or not) are partially responsible for whitewashing the crusades (particularly the Third Crusade), and making them seem exciting and noble rather than horrific and soaked through with the blood of innocents.

In a follow-on topic, we will take a deeper look at Richard the Lionheart and Saladin, and attempt to examine how much of this mythologized chivalric sentimentality that got applied to them was historically accurate, and how much was merely exaggerated or fanciful.

Saladin’s rise to power, and other background to the Third Crusade

Saladin was not a princeling who inherited rulership. He was Kurdish (not Turkish), and did not initially start with much power at all. Saladin’s uncle was named Shirkuh, and he was a mercenary commander under the Zengid dynasty. In 1164, Saladin and his uncle were sent to Fatimid Egypt, on the orders of the Zengid ruler Nur ad-Din (who should sound familiar; this is the same person we talked about in our discussion of the Second Crusade).

To summarize a much longer series of events:

• Saladin and his uncle were initially sent to restore Shawar as the vizier to the teenage Fatimid caliph al-Adid.
• Saladin’s uncle and Shawar had a power struggle after Shawar was reinstated.
• Meanwhile, Saladin was climbed the ranks of the Fatimid government (through a combination of his military successes against the crusaders, as well as having a personal relationship with al-Adid).
• After Saladin’s uncle died and Shawar was assassinated, Saladin ended up named vizier to al-Adid. So he initially exercised power from this position, rather than himself being the ruler.
• In fact, it was not until a few years after al-Adid’s death in 1171 that Saladin actually gained de jure ruling authority. Saladin had a complex web of relationships he had to balance:
  • Saladin was originally dispatched to Egypt as an officer under the command of his uncle by order of Nur ad-Din, the Zengid ruler of Syria. So technically, Saladin’s initial exercising of power in Egypt was acting under Nur ad-Din’s ultimate authority.
  • Just before the Fatimid caliph Al-Adid died, Saladin officially abolished the Fatimid Caliphate (which was religiously aligned to a sub-branch of Shia Islam). He ordered the Friday sermon (khutbah) to be read in the name of Al-Mustadi, the Sunni Abbasid Caliph in Baghdad. Legally, this meant he recognized the Abbasid Caliph as the supreme religious and political sovereign, making Egypt a province under the Abbasid sphere rather than an independent realm under his own name.
• Nur ad-Din died in 1174, and after that, Saladin began to expand his power into Zengid holdings in Syria. In 1175, the Abbasid Caliph officially granted him the title of “Sultan of Egypt and Syria”, legally recognizing his independence and formalizing the creation of the Ayyubid Dynasty.

Saladin subsequently consolidated his power and successfully led military campaigns against the crusaders, and in 1187 he not only took the city of Jerusalem itself, but also the majority of the surrounding areas. This was the first time since 1099 (when the crusaders took Jerusalem at the end of the First Crusade) that it came to be back in Muslim hands.

The basic course of the Third Crusade

With Saladin’s conquest of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1187, the remaining Crusader States found themselves in danger of being completely conquered by the Muslim armies. So what did Christendom do? Call a crusade, of course.

In October 1187 Pope Gregory VIII issued the papal bull titled Audita tremendi, calling for the Third Crusade. (Interestingly, this fellow was a very short-lived pope; he died after being in office for only 57 days).

And so the armies launched, including the forces led by the aforementioned Richard the Lionheart, as well as others, notably Frederick Barbarossa, the Holy Roman Emperor at the time.

The Third Crusade can really be split into two parts:

1. The Crusade of Frederick Barbarossa
2. The Crusade of Richard the Lionheart and Philip II of France

For our purposes here, we are mostly going to focus on the Crusade of Richard the Lionheart and Philip II of France (although it is important to note that Frederick Barbarossa’s forces had inflicted losses on the Muslims before the second round of armies ever arrived in the Levant).

The crusaders recaptured the city of Acre in July 1191. This contributed to a series of events that ultimately led to Richard the Lionheart being the only main crusader leader still present:

• After the recapture of Acre, Richard, Philip and Leopold V of Austria quarreled over the spoils.
• Richard cast down the German standard from the city, slighting Leopold.
• There was also conflict due to Richard supporting a different candidate for kingship of Jerusalem compared to the other two: Richard supported Guy of Lusignan, while the other two supported Conrad of Montferrat (who was related to them both).
• Eventually it was decided that Guy would keep his rule for the time being, but that the crown would go to Conrad upon his death.
• Frustrated with Richard, both Philip and Leopold took their armies (at least most of them) and left the Holy Land. Philip was also in poor health, which may have also contributed to his decision.
• All of this is why Richard is usually the main person you hear about when it comes to crusader leadership in the Third Crusade.

After the capture of Acre, Richard marched on the city of Jaffa, an important port city. Saladin attacked Richard’s army north of Jaffa at Arsuf. At the end of the day, the crusaders emerged victorious. This had several important consequences:

• Despite the fact that the Muslim army was not destroyed (merely routed), it was a big morale boost to the crusaders, and a big morale blow to the Muslims.
• This defeat dented Saladin’s veneer of invincibility, and proved Richard’s skill as a military commander.
• Depriving the Muslims of access to the coast was pretty important from a strategic perspective.

After Jaffa, negotiations were opened between Saladin and Richard; Saladin sent his brother Al-Adil to negotiate. Ultimately negotiations did not prove successful, and Richard marched on Jerusalem. Muslim morale in the city was very low, but due to bad weather and caution (Richard likely feared getting trapped by a relief army if the crusaders besieged the city), Richard had the crusaders retreat back to the coast.

Richard tried to get the aid of Conrad of Montferrat, but he refused, citing Richard’s alliance with Guy of Lusignan, his political rival. Richard was forced to accept Conrad as king of Jerusalem after an election by the nobles of the kingdom, although Conrad was assassinated before he could be crowned. While contemporaries of Richard were quick to try and pin the assassination on him for political reasons, most historians actually do not think he ordered the hit.

During the winter of 1191, the crusader forces raised new fortifications at Ascalon, which Saladin had previously razed, and in the spring of 1192, there were further skirmishes between the two sides. In May, the crusaders took Darum, threatening the borders of Egypt itself. Despite then advancing on Jerusalem, the crusaders did not retake the city, due to leadership disagreements. Richard (among others) wanted to force Saladin to relinquish Jerusalem by invading Egypt, thereby attacking the underlying basis of Saladin’s power. However, the leader of the French contingent (Hugh III of Burgundy) pushed for a direct attack on Jerusalem. This split the crusaders into two factions, and unfortunately for them, neither group was strong enough on its own to achieve its desired objective. Somewhat petulantly, Richard refused to lead the army as commander if they attacked Jerusalem, saying that he would instead only act as a normal soldier. In the end, without unity in purpose, the crusader army again retreated back to the coast.

In July of 1192, Saladin successfully recaptured Jaffa with a surprise attack. In response, Richard sailed to Jaffa with a small force of about 2,000 men, and they stormed Jaffa from their ships, despite being massively outnumbered. The Ayyubids—who had been unprepared for a naval attack—were driven from the city. The subsequent counter-offensive by Saladin ended in complete failure, and the Muslims were forced to retreat, cementing their weakened hold on the coast.

In September 1192, following his defeat at Jaffa, Saladin was forced to sign a treaty with Richard, commonly called the Treaty of Jaffa. The treaty basically held that Jerusalem would remain under Muslim control, but that the Muslims would allow unarmed Christian pilgrims and traders to visit the city. It also held that Ascalon would be returned to the Muslims, because it served as important communications bridge between Saladin’s holdings in Egypt and Syria. Richard left soon after the signing of the treaty in order to return home to deal with political unrest:

• After abandoning the Third Crusade, Philip began to plot against Richard, and supported a revolt by Richard’s younger brother, Prince John.
• Given the string of victories that the crusaders had been having under Richard’s leadership, it is actually likely they could have forced a more complete victory if Richard had not been pressured by circumstances to return home to protect his rule.

At any rate, in the end, neither side was entirely satisfied with the results of the war. Though Richard’s military victories had deprived the Muslims of important coastal territories and preserved the existence of the Crusader States in at least some form, the crusaders had still failed to completely reclaim Jerusalem. Likewise, many in the Muslim world felt were unhappy about the fact that Saladin had failed to drive the Christians out of Syria and the Holy Land.

Group discussion