Saturday 21 April 2012

An Inconvenient Truth About the First Crusade

Peter Frankopan,  The First Crusade: the Call from the East (Bodley Head, London, 2012).

According to this superb new book an ‘inconvenient truth’ was ignored by an influential body of Twelfth-Century authors writing the history of the First Crusade in both Western Europe and in the newly-Latinized East. Those in the West shaped and controlled the narrative in order to make the words and influence of Pope Urban II appear to be the central motivating force that powered the expedition.  While those writing  in the East sought to explain how Jerusalem, Edessa, Tripoli and Antioch had come to be ruled by Western knights, and to justify that outcome in terms of the moral right and military strength of Christian knighthood, supported by the hand of God. 

The inconvenient truth is that the expedition to Jerusalem, during which around 100,000 Western Christians came thousands of miles east to help their Eastern Christian brethren, was the result of a direct appeal for that help from the emperor of Constantinople, Alexios I Komnenos. The eloquence of Urban was one of the ways in which that appeal was mediated in the west in the mid-1090’s, but was in effect merely the culmination of a long campaign of communication and diplomacy by Alexios that had been going on for at least ten years. While the personal bravery of those who went on the First Crusade is almost never questioned, the material aid, strategic advice and diplomatic assistance given to the expedition by the Byzantines is almost always disregarded. Instead the Byzantine emperor is depicted as being very much against the crusade, plotting to do down the crusaders and take credit for the work they do.

In this book Peter Frankopan does not just redress this unbalanced reporting, he places the Byzantine emperor at the centre of a diplomatic and political project designed to bring westerners eastwards in large numbers, to provide for them on their arrival and to use them as a means of protecting the Byzantine empire from enemies who threatened it from every side. Using Greek, Armenian, Syriac, Hebrew and Arabic primary sources that have been ignored or misinterpreted in modern historiography, he reveals much that is new about the pre-history of the First Crusade and the role of the Emperor. He also uses western sources in new and subtle ways to prove his thesis.

The speech by Urban II at Clermont for example is almost always perceived as ‘zero hour’ for the First Crusade, it is ‘the starting gun’ or ‘the launch pad’, and Urban is ‘the man who unleashed the First Crusade’. But the speech begins with an acknowledgement that events in the East were already widely known, the version by Baldric of Bourgueil states:

We have heard, most beloved brethren, and you have heard what we cannot recount without deep sorrow – how, with great hurt and dire sufferings our Christian brothers, the limbs of Christ are scourged, oppressed, and injured in Jerusalem, in Antioch, and the other cities of the East.

The use of the past tense is a clear indicator that the story of what was happening in the East was already known in the West; Urban was simply be recounting what everyone already knew. One of Frankopan’s brilliant questions is – How did they already know?

He argues convincingly that the Emperor Alexios was the source of these stories, that he sent letters, and envoys west to tell of the devastation caused by the Turks and the atrocities they committed against the Byzantines. A letter sent by Alexios to Robert Count of Flanders around 1091 is a telling piece of evidence for the dissemination of this information by Alexios. The letter outlines the desecration of the holy places, as well as accounts of the ferocity of Turkish attacks on Eastern Christians. It has been dismissed as a forgery in the past, designed to rally support against Byzantium in the early twelfth-century. But Frankopan, by outlining the situation of the Byzantine empire at the time that the letter was written makes it very clear that it tallies both with historical reality in the east in the early 1090’s described in Eastern sources and tellingly with the descriptions given of that situation in the west by men such as Pope Urban II. Furthermore, he points out that it would make perfect sense for the Emperor to appeal to the Count of Flanders, because he already had a relationship with Robert, who had sent 500 knights east to aid Alexios shortly before the letter was written.

A final argument against the letter’s authenticity, is the ‘western’ style in which it is written. For Frankopan this does not undermine its legitimacy, instead it strengthens it. Given the sophistication of the Byzantine court and the many westerners living in Constantinople it would be unreasonable for the Emperor not to address his western ally in Latin, and to use language, including diplomatic and political phrasing, that would be clearly understood in a western context. Alexios was asking for help, and would understand the need to speak in a language that would be clearly understood by the recipients of his appeal.

In this book Peter Frankopan outlines the difficulties facing Alexios, bringing a clarity and understanding to the complexity of events, and the timing of his appeals that is informative and admirable. Alexios was a soldier and a negotiator, he fought battles, but he also did deals. He made arrangements with Muslim leaders like Sulayman, to rule eastern cities on his behalf, and he negotiated peace treaties with powerful men like the Seljuk Sultan Malik-Shah. By these means the emperor stabilised situations and maintained the empire in the first ten years of his reign. He faced internal threats, firstly from the senior families of the empire who united to rebel against him, and then from within his own imperial family. He faced external threats from both aggressive nomads attacking in the Balkans, and uncontrolled Seljuk Turks in Asia Minor. But he balanced things brilliantly, stitching together a network of deals and arrangements. But the deaths of both Sulayman in 1085 and Malik-shah in 1092, and the advent of an ‘anti-Byzantine’ ruler in Baghdad, the sultan Barkyaruk, led to an unravelling. Probably reaching a nadir in early 1095 when Kilij-Arslan, a son of Sulayman, arrived at Nicaea, the city his family had held on behalf of the emperor for many years, a city close to the imperial capital and hugely significant in the history of the Christian church, and declared that he now held it on behalf of the sultan of Baghdad.

In response to this ongoing spiral of disintegration Alexios sent more letters and more envoys west. This is acknowledged in western sources such as Ekkehard of Aura who recorded that in the 1090’s embassies and letters, ‘seen by ourselves’ were sent out by Alexios; while the chronicler Gilbert of Mons reports that ‘he (Alexios) sent envoys to France with letters to stir up the princes so that they would come to the aid of imperrilled Greece.’ So, when Pope Urban II stood up to give his sermon at Clermont he barely needed to introduce the subject, for the field had already been prepared and the crop sown for him through the labours of Alexios and his envoys. Far from being the ‘starting pistol’ the speech at Clermont simply confirmed what informed people across Western Europe already knew, and confirmed it in language and phrases that they had already heard.

I have tried in this review to convey some of the more significant and substantial arguments put forward by Peter Frankopan. This means that I have had to leave out so much that is great scholarly work, that is innovative and profound, that is subtle and intelligent. I think this book will change the way the history of the First Crusade is taught, and that it deserves to be on the reading list of anyone who is  serious about understanding the origins and outcomes of the most miraculous and original event of the middle ages.
© Steven Biddlecombe

The Knights Templar - Not a Good Choice of Role Model for Anders Breivik?

Anders Breivik is a mass murderer, and as such his state of mind is alien to almost all of us. But it has worked to develop an explanation for his actions, based on his hatred for racially or religiously defined groups of his fellow citizens and those who associate with them.

He believes that he shares this hatred, and the ability to turn it into terrorist action against innocent people, with a secretive group of similarly motivated, similarly dedicated and delusional racists across Europe. He calls this, probably imagined, group The Knights Templar and links it directly to the men who made up a military order that began in Jerusalem around 1120 and took a religious oath to defend both the newly conquered Holy Land and the Christian pilgrims who came to the sacred sites there. Breivik clearly believes that in the Templars he has found his own inspirational example of white, European, Christian soldiers standing against non-white, non-Christian middle-eastern infidels. He envisages the Templars as a group who used their martial skills and their pious bravery and laid down their lives to defend their community, their people, their religion and their race from Muslim attack.

There is an element of truth in this, the Crusader states were ruled by Christians and surrounded by Muslim-ruled states, so any attack on them is likely to come from a Muslim source. Pilgrims were often prey to bandits and thieves, who, given that most of the population of the region were Muslim, we're also likely to be Muslim. So in fulfilling their oaths the Templars would usually be fighting against Muslims. Also, in the years following the capture of Jerusalem by the expedition that became known as the First Crusade, and the establishment of what are known as the Crusader States around Aleppo, Antioch, Tripoli and Jerusalem, young Christian men were recruited by the Templars in Europe and travelled to the Holy Land eager for the blood of the pagan infidel. With the anti-Muslim, and often anti-Jewish and anti-Greek, preaching of western crusade sermonizers still ringing in their ears they were ready to kill for their faith.

But the reality these new arrivals found was that the survival of the Crusader States largely relied on trade with Muslims, they relied on good relations with their neighbours and through alliances and mutual agreements with them they had by the middle of the twelfth-century established a degree of peace in the region. Christian rulers had Muslim servants and the equivalent of civil servants running their administrations. There were many among the Franks (Christians) of the Holy Land who wanted to settle peaceably with their Muslim neighbours, and even the Templars developed a respect for Muslims and Muslim traditions.

This is illustrated by the observations of a chronicler called Usamah ibn Munqidh who reports that when he visited Jerusalem around 1140, he went to stay in what had been the al-Aqsa mosque. The Muslims had ruled Jerusalem for almost 500 years and during that time what had been the site of The Temple of Solomon had become a Muslim holy site. But Usamah, although he was clearly aware of the religious significance of the mosque/temple, says that the actual reason he went to the Temple was because it was where his 'Templar friends' were staying. He goes on to say that these Knights Templar friends arranged for him to stay with them in what they called the Temple, and what Usamah called the mosque. They found a small oratory and set it aside so that he could go there and say his daily prayers.

One day Usamah went to pray in the mosque, going to his small oratory and laying down his prayer mat, he knelt and faced Mecca, which from Jerusalem is south-east, and he began to pray. But no sooner had he started than was forced to stop when he was grabbed by a newly arrived Templar who forced him to turn to the East, saying ‘Thus do we pray’. Hearing the noise the other Templars came running and took the man away, apologizing to Usamah saying: ‘He is a foreigner. He has just arrived from the land of the Franks and he has never seen anyone pray without turning to face east.’

Usamah explains why this happened, saying: ‘Among the Franks we find some people who have come to settle among us and who have cultivated the society of the Muslims. They are far superior to those who have freshly joined them in the territories they now occupy.’

Several things arise from this story that seem to contradict Anders Breivik's conception of the Knights Templar. Firstly, the fact that a Muslim writing in the middle of the Twelfth-century can call the Templars ‘my friends’, seems to turn the world on its head. The Templars are supposed to be the (literally) sworn enemies of the Muslims and yet the way Usamah ibn Munqidh remembers it is that they welcomed him into their community, made a place for him to pray to his 'infidel' God and defended him from attack from an ignorant newcomer. Secondly, the fact that the Templars can refer to one of their own as ‘a foreigner’ is also amazing – these are members of the same military order, they have taken the same vows, share the same clothing and are from the same religious and racial background, they are ‘brothers’ yet they consider the new arrival ‘a foreigner’ and the Muslim ‘a friend’.

This report suggests that at this point a particular group of Knight Templar had made a concerted effort to build good relations with at least one of their Muslim neighbours. This attempt to heal the wounds caused by the massacre of Muslim populations and the ravaging of Muslim lands during the First Crusade if applied more generally might have meant that the crusader states could have developed alliances, become an accepted and respected part of the political landscape and enjoyed peaceful and profitable relations with their neighbours. But the baggage of fervent religious hatred of Muslims, Saracens and 'infidels', not to mention Greeks and Jews, brought by these constantly arriving ‘foreigners’, meant that any progress made towards reconciliation would often be destroyed by the actions of new arrivals.

The story of his trip to the Temple and his friends the Templars, told by Usama bin Munqidh, makes Breivik's chosen role models, the Knights Templar appear to be exactly the sort of decent and tolerant people that he hates so much. Multi-cultural twelfth-century Jerusalem with its mix of European, North African, Greek, Arabic and Jewish cultures was where the Templars did their work, and fulfilled their promise to defend pilgrims. They seem to have adapted to and engaged with multi-culturalism and if Usamah's story is representative of Templar behaviour generally in the Latin East then on a personal level at least many would have made friends with Muslims, respected their faith and tried to behave in a civilised manner towards them.

I am not saying that the Templars where models of religious and cultural tolerance, far from it and their reported actions often reflect the vicious cut and thrust of the holy war/jihad being waged between Christian and Muslim in the time of the crusades. But Usamah's story shows us a different side of the Templars, away from the politics and the battlefields, away from the pulpits and the anti-Muslim sermons. It shows us a hint of day to day reality and the relationships that could be built between people of different ethnic and religious backgrounds. Relationships that men like Brevik and the newly-arrived foreigner, would want to tear apart and destroy. Those Knights Templar who befriended Usamah, showed him respect and made a place for him to worship his god would be disgusted by Breivik, they would see him as a barbaric and ignorant outsider with no sense of how to behave in a civilised society and they would be right.