Holy Warriors

by Jonathan Phillips

  Prepare, God have mercy on you, to strive hard at the imposition of this jihad and the obligation to defend your religion and brotherhood with aid and support. Take as your booty an expedition that God, who is exalted, has arranged for you without great effort. You will gain from it a finest winner [God] and a glory which . . . [will] remain on you for many ages to come. Beware with all watchfulness that you avoid disgracing yourselves or you will arrive at a fire with flames, which God, who is exalted, has made an evil place and your worst final destiny.5

  One distinctive feature of the Islamic approach emerges: in direct contrast to Pope Urban II’s words at the Council of Clermont where he warned the crusaders to act out of devotion alone, rather than striving for honor or glory, there was an offer of both secular and spiritual rewards: “God and his Prophet promised to whomever fought the jihad in His cause to gain their [enemies’] wealth, women and lands;” a more realistic approach, perhaps.6

  Al-Sulami chose to interpret the arrival of the crusaders as a divine challenge to the ruling classes and a task they had been specially chosen to face: “Know that God, who is praised, only sent this enemy to you as a trial, to test your steadfastness with it. He, who blesses and is exalted, said: ‘Let us test you so that We will know those of you who fight hard and are steadfast.’”7 The notion of a test was frequently used by Christian preachers, as was al-Sulami’s next suggestion—the need for a moral regeneration to provide the proper preparation for holy war.8 In both cases, spiritual purity, or “right intention” was requisite: “Give precedence to jihad of yourselves over jihad of your enemies, for if yourselves are among your enemies. . . . Make right what is between you and your Creator, and what is wrong with your [current] state of being will be made right for you.”

  Toward the close of his tract, al-Sulami called for a restoration of unity in the Muslim world and repeated his injunctions directed at the region’s leadership to fulfill their Koranic responsibilities to guide the people and to guard the faith. He was well aware that the fragmented condition of the Islamic Near East had aided the crusaders’ cause. Al-Sulami was not entirely pessimistic, however; he made a terse and accurate critique of the Franks’ position at the time (c.1105–6) and mentioned “the paucity of their horses and equipment and the far distance of their reinforcements and support.” These were perpetual difficulties for the settlers and proved core reasons for their eventual defeat.

  Again in his closing comments the writer castigated his audience; he complained of the shame in delaying opposition to the Franks and the disgrace in fearing them. In spite of the power of this call to jihad, the most telling indicator of its failure to resonate with the people of Damascus was the size of al-Sulami’s audiences—on one occasion just six people attended. Divisions among the warlords of the Muslim Near East were so profound that it was decades before the religious classes could exert sufficient influence on the ruling elites to make the jihad the primary rallying call against the Christian colonists. As we shall see, it was Imad ad-Din Zengi’s capture of Edessa in 1144 that marked the first major advance for the counter-crusade, and it was his devout and powerful son, Nur ad-Din (1118–74), who brought faith and fighting together to pose an even greater test to the crusaders.

  USAMA IBN MUNQIDH: OBSERVER OF MEN AND BEASTS

  Our next guide to twelfth-century Islam led a truly remarkable life: Usama ibn Munqidh was born on July 4, 1095, just four months before Urban II launched the First Crusade, and he died aged ninety-three on November 17, 1188, a little over a year after Saladin’s reconquest of Jerusalem.9 He lived through a vast spectrum of events that encompassed Muslim defeat and revival, warfare among his coreligionists, and conflict with the Franks. His family held the fortress of Shaizar, a castle that still clings to a spine of rock overlooking the River Orontes in central Syria. The Banu Munqidh were one of the numerous small lordships that emerged from the chaotic events in the late-eleventh-century Muslim Near East and, as such, Usama’s people had to navigate between the competing pressures of the incoming crusaders and the larger local power centers of Aleppo, Hama, and Damascus. They also had to deal with less predictable forces such as the Assassins, a group who lived within ten miles of Shaizar and whose uncompromising negotiating techniques brought them notoriety across the medieval world.10

  Usama’s father, Murshid, was a man of immense piety who combined an enthusiasm for the hunt with intensive study of the Koran. He created more than forty copies of the text himself and composed commentaries on its meaning and style. He managed to conduct his two passions simultaneously, as Usama recounted: “On the day he went forth to the mountain to hunt partridge, while he was on the way there, yet still distant from it, he would tell us, ‘Go, split up. Any of you who still hasn’t done his recitation should now go and do it.’ For we, his children, had memorised the Koran. And so we would then disperse and recite the Koran until he arrived at the hunting spot and ordered someone to summon us. He would then ask us how much we had recited. Once we had informed him, he would say, ‘Me, I’ve recited one hundred verses,’ or something close. My father (may God have mercy on him) could recite the Koran just like it was when it was first revealed.”11

  Murshid was not, however, interested in heading the family and when he stood aside for his younger brother, the tensions generated among the Banu Munqidh clan led to Usama leaving home in June 1131: a moment of profound sadness for him and, in several senses, an event from which he never recovered. Throughout the remainder of his adult life he hoped to return to Shaizar and become its lord, yet this never happened. He began a career that took him across the courts of the Muslim Near East and brought him service with a cosmopolitan series of rulers: at Hama he worked for the brutal Zengi (with whom he stayed until 1138), then to Unur of Damascus (1138–44), the Fatimid court in Cairo (1144–54), then back to Damascus and Nur ad-Din (1154–64), next to the remote Upper Tigris city of Diyar Bakr (1164–74), and finally to Damascus a third time under the patronage of Saladin (1174–88). He was not, however, employed solely as a military man, and it was his celebrated reputation as an individual of learning and culture (adab) that enabled him to attract such a powerful and varied range of employers and to crisscross the Sunni–Shi’a divide. Adab required good manners, great prowess as a writer and orator, and the ability to memorize a huge store of verse; at its most developed, Usama’s task was to provide an intellectual focus to a court, as well as a sense of refinement. Usama even wrote a manual of ideal male conduct, The Kernels of Refinement, which stressed ideas of honor and military strength. Skill as a hunter, a pastime that interested him enormously, was also helpful. Finally, it was desirable to be thin and handsome: needless to say, gifts possessed by Usama himself.12

  Usama was a prolific writer and gained a great reputation in his own lifetime as a poet. Poetry was probably the most important method of communication in medieval Islam and was used to entertain, to impress, and to propagandize the jihad.13 Poetry was also employed to conduct affairs of state and when, on behalf of Nur ad-Din of Damascus, Usama conducted lengthy diplomatic negotiations with the vizier of Egypt, they were in verse.

  Among the many items in Usama’s oeuvre was a hugely popular collection of poetry; Saladin himself kept a copy with him. He also composed works on sleep and revelatory dreams and on women; a history of recent events; a Counsel to Shepherds; an anthology of Dwellings and Abodes (an analysis of the erotic prelude, a genre of classical Arabic literature); a study of especially ornate poetry, The Creator of High Style; and finally, a book on the lore of the stick, The Book of the Staff.14 The last of these was written around 1171–72 and was a collection of verse and prose incidents connected with the symbol of Usama’s old age—his walking stick. Some were tales of famous sticks, such as that of Moses; some told of his own experiences (a few involving the Franks); others were designed simply to amuse. In one incident, a man complained to his local qadi (judge) that his wife had beaten him with a stick so fiercely that it broke. The qadi looked sad,
which prompted the man to say that there was nothing to worry about—she had done this from her evil nature and lack of education. But the qadi responded, “I would not grieve, even if she killed you. My only worry is that she may think that all men are like you.”15

  His best-known book in modern times is his Kitab al-I’tibar, The Book of Contemplation—partly because it contains so many lively anecdotes and partly because it has been translated from Arabic. As the title suggests, it was not a narrative history but principally a work of instruction. Through The Book of Contemplation we can glimpse much of Usama’s view of the world and his thoughts on the Franks. In the broadest sense he reflected the widely shared feeling of Muslim cultural superiority over the Christians. The latter were brave—in the way that animals could be brave—but lacked modesty and sophistication. “Glory be to the Creator, the Maker! Indeed, when a person relates matters concerning the Franks, he should give glory to God and sanctify Him! For he will see them to be mere beasts possessing no other virtues but courage and fighting, just as beasts have only the virtues of strength and the ability to carry loads.”16 The latter years of Usama’s career overlapped with the efflorescence of the jihad under Nur ad-Din and Saladin, yet his writings lack a sustained polemical thrust against the Christians, perhaps an indication that the author’s own concerns and personality were largely secular in nature.

  Usama grew up with many indigenous Christians in the vicinity—in fact, at Shaizar in 1114 the Banu Munqidh menfolk joined the local Christian villagers in their Easter celebration. Yet he obviously disapproved of their morals, as shown in this tale told to him by a bath-keeper:

  I once opened a bath in al-Ma’arra to earn my living. Once, one of their knights came in. Now, they don’t take to people wearing a towel about their waist in the bath, so this knight stretched out his hand, pulled off my towel from my waist and threw it down. He looked at me—I had recently shaved my pubic hair. . . . Then he moved in closer to me. He then stretched his hand over my groin, saying, “By the truth of my religion, do that for me too.” He then lay down on his back: he had it thick as a beard in that place. So I shaved him and he passed his hand over it and, finding it smooth to the touch, said: “Salim, by the truth of your religion, do it to Madame!” . . . meaning his wife. The attendant brought her. . . . She lay down on her back and the knight said, “Do her like you did me!” So I shaved her hair there as her husband stood watching me. He then thanked me and paid me my due for the service. Now, consider this great contradiction! They have no sense of propriety or honour, yet they have great courage. Yet what is courage but a product of honour and disdain for ill repute.17

  Understandably Usama found Christian theology to be deficient and, on many occasions, he ends an anecdote with an almost reflexive imprecation: “May God curse them!” In spite of this stereotypical invective, his writings reveal that he had much to do with the Frankish elite, particularly during his service to Unur of Damascus around 1140. As well as giving us colorful information about Usama’s career and personality, these episodes may reveal some pertinent features of Frankish rule and Christian–Muslim relations.

  In the course of one embassy to Jerusalem, Usama was permitted to visit the Temple complex of the holy city. This contains the Dome of the Rock and, more importantly, the al-Aqsa Mosque, which is the place the Prophet led the other prophets in prayer during his Night Journey from Mecca to Jerusalem.18 During his stay Usama observed the difference between those Franks settled in the Levant and their coreligionists who had just arrived from the West:

  Anyone who is recently arrived from the Frankish lands is rougher in character than those who have become acclimatised and have frequented the company of Muslims. Here is an instance of their rough character (may God abominate them!). Whenever I went to visit the holy sites in Jerusalem, I would go to the al-Aqsa Mosque . . . where the Templars, who are my friends, were. They would clear out that little mosque so that I could pray in it. One day, I went into the little mosque, recited the opening formula “God is great” and stood up in prayer. At this one of the Franks rushed at me and grabbed me and turned my face towards the east saying, “Pray like this.” A group of Templars hurried towards him, took hold of the Frank and took him away from me. I then returned to my prayers. The Frank, that very same one, took advantage of their inattention and returned, rushing upon me. . . . So the Templars came in again, grabbed him and threw him out. They apologised to me, saying, “This man is a stranger, just arrived from the Frankish lands . . . he has never before seen anyone who did not pray towards the east.” “I think I have prayed quite enough,” I said and left. I used to marvel at that devil, the change of his expression, the way he trembled and what he must have made of seeing someone praying towards Mecca.19

  This dramatic vignette shows the sharp contrast between those accustomed to dealing with Muslims on a daily basis, both as inhabitants of their own lands and as political neighbors, and the new arrival, stirred up by the inflammatory rhetoric of crusade preachers and lacking any sense of tolerance toward his religious opponents. The story also demonstrates the diplomatic courtesies extended to a high-level ambassador and proves that even in Jerusalem itself, during the mid-twelfth century at least, a Muslim was permitted private prayer. Perhaps the most surprising remark in his testimony was the description of the Templars as Usama’s friends. As we will see below, these men were usually the most implacable opponents of Islam, sworn to its destruction, yet in this case they evidently felt it appropriate to protect Usama.

  Friendship could find a basis in the shared interests of an equestrian elite. Usama and the Frankish knights were both products of a culture in which the horse was a status symbol, an essential companion in battle and on the hunt. While each could admire the other’s bravery in warfare, they might also, in the case of the hunt, enjoy a pastime together. In the early 1140s Usama was in the company of Unur of Damascus when the Muslim ruler went hunting with King Fulk of Jerusalem—another great devotee of the chase—on lands near Acre. Unur was quite taken with a large falcon that had been trained to bring down cranes and even to attack gazelles; he asked the king if he could have the falcon and Fulk duly obliged. Such diplomatic niceties helped to seal an alliance between Damascus and Jerusalem when both parties feared the growing power of Zengi, atabeg of both Aleppo and Mosul, and deemed it prudent to make such a deal: just one of many examples of a Christian–Muslim pact.20 Given the basic parameters of the Crusades, on the surface at least, arrangements of this sort seem unlikely, but the day-to-day realities of living in close proximity to each other meant that such relationships—be they personal, like Usama’s, or political, as in this case—were not impossible. The zeal of the First Crusaders, wading through Jerusalem in the blood of their enemies, had become tempered by basic practicalities and the settlers’ lack of numbers. We can see a recognition of this from a Christian perspective too; Fulcher of Chartres, a First Crusader who chose to remain in the Levant, wrote a famous assessment of the inhabitants of the Frankish lands around 1120: “We who were once Occidentals have now become Orientals. . . . He who was of Rheims or Chartres has now become a citizen of Tyre or Antioch. We have already forgotten the places of our birth; already these are unknown to many of us or not mentioned any more. Some already possess homes or households by inheritance. Some have taken wives not only of their own people, but Syrians, Armenians, or even Saracens who have achieved the grace of baptism. Words of different languages have become the common property known to each nationality, and mutual faith unites those who are ignorant of their descent. . . . He who was born a stranger is now as one born here; he who was born an alien has become a native.”21 Thus, the Franks had become “easternized” and acculturated to their new surroundings, the local people and their practices. It would be a grave exaggeration to claim that anything approaching a “rainbow nation” had emerged, but indications of assimilation and interaction do exist and suggest a fuller picture and more nuanced version of the standard “Christian fights
Muslim” dichotomy.

  Usama himself was obsessed with hunting. The land near his native Shaizar was a mix of woods and marsh, home to gazelles, boar, hares, and, most challenging of all, lions. It may be no coincidence that Usama actually means “lion” and his Kitab al-I’tibar is packed with stories about his adventures. Pride of place is held by his single-handed killings of the beast; he claimed that he had more experience with lions and knowledge about fighting them than any other person. He told of a hunt with his father:

  I mounted my horse with my spear by my side and charged at the lion. The lion faced me and let out a roar. My horse reared and my spear, because of its weight, fell out of my hand. The lion chased me for a good stretch, then turned back to the foot of the hill and stood there. It was one of the biggest lions I had ever seen, like the arch of a bridge, and ravenous. Every time we approached it, it would come down from the hill and chase after the horses. . . . I saw it leap onto the haunches of the horse belonging to an attendant of my uncle, tearing the man’s clothing and leggings with its claws. Then it returned to the hill. There was thus no way of getting at the lion until I climbed above it on the slope of the hill and rushed my horse down upon it and thrust my spear at it, piercing it. I left the spear sticking in its side. The lion then rolled over onto the slope of the hill with the spear still in it. The lion died. Usama was so devoted to the hunt that he even imported dogs and falcons from Byzantium.22