The Miracle of Freedom

by Ted Stewart

But all these things would come in due time.

  For the moment, this battle was about the here and now. Booty to make them rich. Booty to feed and reward their armies. Slaves and gold and glory. That was what the Arabs were fighting for today.

  The invaders had learned that most of the riches in Europe could be found in the cathedral cities, those urban centers, such as they were, where the great churches had been built. Knowing this, they had already sacked the great church at Saint-Hilaire. Their next objective was the church of Saint-Martin, outside the city of Tours. After that, they would continue: another church, another cathedral, another city targeted and defeated, another step on the long march through Europe as they circled back toward the Middle East.

  Only this rough band of insolent Christians stood to stop them. They had to be destroyed.

  Soon after the sun had risen, the signal to attack was given. A great cry went out!

  Leading his men into battle, the older brother, once a Christian, son of a former Spanish lord, rushed toward the fight. Lifting his sword as he rode, he thanked God for the possibility of being a martyr for His name.

  A Hero Stands

  After Bordeaux was taken and sacked, the defeated Prince Eudes attempted to engage the Arab army a second time, but suffered an even greater defeat. Desperate, he fled north where he frantically looked for a savior among the frightened and enfeebled ranks of Frankish leaders.

  Somewhere in Paris, he met with Charles Martel, a longtime enemy but fellow Christian.

  Charles Martel, duke of the Austrasian Franks, was the illegitimate son of the mayor (duke) of the Franks, a position roughly equivalent to that of prime minister. Like all the French monarchs, his king was weakened from constant conflicts, leaving the mayor as the most powerful man in the kingdom.

  Charles was experienced in war, for he had spent many of his forty-four years struggling for power in Gaul as well as fighting against the fierce pagans from across the Rhine. Prior to 732, he had fought at least eleven major campaigns or battles, developing a reputation for being a strong and decisive leader, so much so that he earned the nickname “Martel” or “hammer,” because “‘as a martel [hammer] breaks and crushes iron, steel and all other metals, so did he break up and crush his enemies.’”33

  Courageous. A noble leader. Experienced at war. Martel was an excellent choice to lead the effort to defeat the invading Islamic forces—except for the fact that he had no standing army. This inconvenient fact was the first obstacle Martel had to overcome.

  Although he had no army, Martel did have a core of extraordinarily loyal comrades. Though few in number, they were highly disciplined, motivated, and very well trained. They had spent years with Martel marching on campaigns throughout Europe, and he knew he could count on them to come to his side.

  After receiving a full report of the invasion by Abd al-Rahman, Martel immediately issued a summons to war. This was answered by his loyal comrades in arms as well as soldiers from other regions who were terrified by reports of the ravaging Muslim army.

  Martel was well aware that if he failed, there were no other forces able to defend Western Christianity. His soldiers also knew that. This made them a group of highly motivated men.

  Martel assembled his small army at a point somewhere south of the city of Tours. There he waited for the advancing Muslim army. While he waited, he made the best of a desperate situation. He positioned his men to take tactical advantage of the rising terrain, made efforts to conceal their numbers, and obscured his intentions as best as he could.

  The army of Abd al-Rahman was taking its time in getting to Tours. The Arab leader spent three months raiding and looting, roaming the territory without facing any opposition. But Tours, with its considerable wealth, lured him like a great bear to the smell of meat. As he approached the waiting enemy, Abd al-Rahman readied his men for battle, knowing that he would have to contend with Martel’s men before he could continue his march into the cities at the very heart of France.

  When Abd al-Rahman first made contact with Martel’s forces, he was stunned to find a force that appeared to be well prepared for battle. The main infantry were heavily armed, each man plated in iron armor. As he surveyed the battlefield, he also realized that he had made a significant mistake in allowing Martel to choose the location of the battle. His opponent had been able to conceal his strength in the trees, leaving him to wonder how large the Christian army was. Worse, when the time came, he would have to attack uphill and through the forest.

  Maybe for this reason, he did not immediately engage. Instead, he took time to recall scattered elements of his army, gathering all the reinforcements that he could. But he knew he could not wait forever. Unlike the local defenders, his men were not prepared to winter in this part of Europe. They were not accustomed to cold-weather warfare. More, his men were eager to continue the fight, always anxious when he held them at bay.

  A couple of days of light skirmishes and scouting followed, each commander feeling the other out. The invaders wanted the Franks to come out and meet them in open battle. Martel would have none of that, knowing that the Arab army would decimate his limited forces. He also understood the advantage that he held on the high ground.

  On Saturday, October 25, the two armies finally collided.

  Organizing his army across a broad front, Abd al-Rahman ordered the attack. His soldiers mounted a frightening assault, riding to the battle on their horses before dismounting for brutal, sword-to-sword combat against the Christian defenders. Hoping to break the charge, Martel organized his men in a phalanx formation—a large square of defending soldiers.

  Standing against overwhelming odds, the army of Martel held.

  One account, purposefully poetic in its language, described the Christian position as holding like a “glacial wall.”

  The Muslims kept up the assault. The Christians still held. Thousands of men died on both sides of the attack. Neither army made any progress. At one point, Abd al-Rahman thrust toward Martel and his personal protectors. The defenders held their ground. All through the day, the sound of war lifted over the French landscape. Exhaustion. Blood. Bodies littered the land, blood congealing red in the autumn dust.

  It appeared that the battle might be a standoff when, suddenly, the Muslims began to withdraw.

  In a brilliantly executed and yet almost predictable maneuver (all armies seek to outflank the enemy position), a contingent of Christians had flanked the main battle to attack the Muslims’ camp to the rear. Caught completely by surprise, the warriors of Abd al-Rahman were forced to retreat to defend their families that remained in their camp, not to mention their captured treasure.

  As the invaders began to pull back, Martel ordered a counterattack. A fierce battle took place in the main Muslim camp. Eventually, the counterattack was thwarted and Martel was forced to withdraw. But when the battle had ended, Abd al-Rahman, the great Arab leader, was found among the dead, his body pierced through by a javelin.

  That night, unexpectedly—really inexplicably—the Muslims abandoned their camp. They left their tents. They left their animals and belongings. They left their beloved loot and slaves. They even left their war gear and siege equipment. Without their noble leader, they abandoned a battle that up to that point had generally been considered at worst a draw. Though they still outnumbered their opponents, and though they certainly had reason to be optimistic of the outcome, they hastily packed up a few essentials and left the battlefield.

  The next morning, fully expecting a day of battle, Martel prepared his army for another attack. As the sun rose, the Christians were amazed to find the Muslim camp completely deserted. The enemy had yielded and was in full retreat.

  It was Sunday, October 26.

  The invaders were on their way back to Spain.

  Along the Trail of Retreat East of the Pyrenees Mountains

  He wa
s dying. He didn’t know it yet, or at least he didn’t realize that it would come so quickly, but he would see only one more sunrise in this world. And though he would fight it until the moment that he finally closed his eyes, he was beginning to see this was a fight he could not win.

  His bowels were infected from the sword that had pierced his side. The bacteria were spreading through his blood now, heading for his lungs and heart.

  He lay beside the rutted road, his fellow soldiers marching past him. There was nothing they could do to help him and not many would have been inclined to, even if they could. He wasn’t the only man who was dying from the battle, not the only soldier to lie down along the trail, not the last man to realize that he would never again see his home.

  The oldest son of the former Spanish lord struggled to breathe, his lungs swelling with liquid. He pulled as deeply as he could, but all he got was a solid gurgle in his chest. He shivered. He was cold. He hadn’t been warm since the battle on the plains of France. Wrapping himself in his long robes, he prepared for a long, cold night ahead.

  Darkness came. The night grew silent. His horse remained beside him, nibbling on the mountain grass. His fellow soldiers kept on marching through the eastern pass that would take them back to Spain. Soon after midnight, they all had passed. The man closed his eyes and slept.

  The sun rose over the rolling plains that stretched toward the Mediterranean Sea. He felt its warmth upon his face and woke slowly. Looking stiffly around, he realized that he was alone now, the other soldiers—as many as were left from the terrible battle—having moved on through the night. His entire body hurt. From his feet to his eyes, he was one knotted ball of pain. His chest shook with every breath. His head swam and he could not focus. His mouth was painfully dry, but his hands were so weak he could barely hold his flask of water. Sometimes he shivered from the cold. Sometimes he was drenched in sweat.

  Considering his pain, he remembered something one of his soldiers had muttered to him once. It is very hard work to die.

  Gathering what little strength he could, he took stock of his supplies. His sword, blood-stained and dirty. A leather pouch of water. A small knife. A couple of pieces of dried goat meat, a few scraps of bread.

  Struggling to sit, he looked around him and, for the first time, realized where he was. The green meadow of his father was not far, just a short ride up the trail.

  He felt a sudden urge that seemed to consume him with desire. He wanted to be there. To die there. To lay his body down and rest there, upon his family land.

  It nearly killed him to pull himself up onto the wooden saddle of his horse. He rode, hunched over, barely breathing, his throat gurgling. It took almost two hours to get there, but the meadow finally came into view.

  Stopping at the edge of the trees, he rolled onto the grass.

  His brother found him two days later. With nothing but a short prayer, he dug a shallow grave and buried him beside the stream.

  He was one of tens of thousands of dead Islamic warriors who were left atop the battlefield or scattered along the trail that led back to Andalus.

  Over the next few days, a small number of Muslim soldiers returned. The remains of their brother soldiers were dragged to the meadow and buried beside the first. Islamic law was very clear in this regard. It was strictly forbidden for a believer to be buried beside an infidel. The fear of seeing their brothers buried in a sinful manner motivated the invaders to return to assure that they were placed in a proper grave.

  After burying their dead, the Muslim soldiers retreated across the mountain pass and never came back.

  The burial ground, along with several others, became a tiny Muslim cemetery and remains so to this day.

  The Final Outcome

  Martel watched the defeated army retreat toward the Pyrenees Mountains. He considered following but, having become aware of an immediate challenge from pagan Germans attacking his frontier along the Rhine, chose not to pursue the retreating army.

  During the retreat, the Muslims took occasion to loot what they could. But they could not do much damage, for they were harassed along the way by the newly reassembled army of Prince Eudes as well as other local forces.

  One account of the battle reported massive casualties (375,000) on the part of the army of Islam, with only 1,500 Christians killed. Those figures are justifiably in dispute. What is indisputable, however, is the fact that what seemed to be, up to that time, an unconquerable Muslim army had suffered a resounding defeat. Over the coming years, the Arab invaders would continue to launch occasional looting raids on southern France, but never again would they attempt an all-out assault on Christian Gaul.

  In 759, the last of their footholds in southeast France was retaken.

  The Muslim army never crossed the Pyrenees again.

  As for Charles Martel, his great victory resulted in the rise of the Carolingians, his own family dynasty. The most famous of his successors was his grandson Charlemagne, “Charles the Great,” who united the Franks and other warring tribes under the Holy Roman Empire—a fully Christian empire consisting of most of central and western Europe that survived in one form or another for a thousand years. This proved to be a critical event, for Charlemagne’s rule is recognized as an era of renaissance in art, religion, and culture, so much so that he is considered to be the “Father of Europe,” responsible for creating a common European identity.34

  But what would have happened if his grandfather had been defeated?

  What would the world be like today if the armies of Islam had conquered all of Europe?

  Would Rome, the Christian church, and Western Judaism have been destroyed, much like Zoroastrianism had been destroyed in the Persian Empire under Islamic rule?

  Would there have been an early end to the Byzantine Empire?

  If the caliphs had been allowed to rule, what would have happened to the future development of Western culture and values, including developments in law, respect for human rights and the individual, and economic and religious freedom?

  Without Western influence to safeguard these concepts from their early cradle through to maturity, what would have happened to the future development of self-government and democracy?

  Concerning the possible march of the Arab army through Europe, and what that would have meant, Edward Gibbon has suggested:

  The Rhine is not more impassable than the Nile or Euphrates, and the Arabian fleet might have sailed without a naval combat into the mouth of the Thames. Perhaps the interpretation of the Koran would now be taught in the schools of Oxford, and her pulpits might demonstrate to a circumcised people the sanctity and truth of the revelation of Muhammed.35

  Which is why the Battle of Poitiers—which led to the denial of an Islamic conquest of Europe—was absolutely essential to the development of freedom in our day.

  Notes

  ^1. Von Ranke, History of the Reformation, 1:5.

  ^2. See http://muslimvoices.org/five-pillars-of-islam/.

  ^3. Lewis, What Went Wrong, 101.

  ^4. Ibid., 54.

  ^5. Ibid., 39.

  ^6. Ibid., 79.

  ^7. For a thorough discussion of the limitations of Islam and how it affected the development of personal liberty, representative government, and advances in science and economic development in the nations it ruled, see Lewis, What Went Wrong.

  ^8. For information about the status of this part of the world leading up to the birth of Muhammad, see Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 893–944; Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 34–45; and Lewis, Middle East, 33–47.

  ^9. Lewis, Middle East, 53. Umma means “Muslim community.” Regarding his belief in the importance of warfare in his life, Muhammad is reported to have said, “The sword is the key of heaven and of hell; a drop of blood shed in the cause of God, a night spent in arms, is of more avail than tw
o months of fasting or prayer: whosoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven” (Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 919–20).

  ^10. Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 48.

  ^11. For example, verse 9:5 reads: “‘When the sacred months are past, kill the idolaters wherever you find them, and seize them, besiege them and lie in wait for them in every place of ambush; but if they repent, pray regularly and give the alms tax, then let them go their way, for God is forgiving, merciful’” (quoted in Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 49–50).

  ^12. For a discussion of the revelatory justification for military conquest, see Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 48–51; Lewis, Middle East, 57–58, 233–34. As to the choice between conversion or slavery for the pagan, Gibbon characterizes it thus: “A simple profession of faith established the distinction between a brother and a slave” (Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 946).

  ^13. Lewis, Middle East, 234. A hadith is a collection of the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad that constitutes a major source of guidance for those of the Islamic faith.

  ^14. See Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 57.

  ^15. Ibid., 62.

  ^16. For a discussion of the Arab tradition of attack and pillage, as well as the motivation for the early Islamic soldiers, see Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 55–65; Lewis, Middle East, 57–59, 233–35. Lewis pays particular attention to the traditional meaning of jihad.

  ^17. Lewis, Middle East, 233.

  ^18. Ibid.

  ^19. Ibid., 234.

  ^20. For a discussion of the conquering of Palestine and Syria, see Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 947–49; Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 66–97.

  ^21. See Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 98–138. Gibbon reports that the tribute imposed on the Persian Empire as a whole (both Iraq and Iran) was two million pieces of gold (see Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 946–47).

  ^22. See Kennedy, Great Arab Conquests, 139–68. For a full discussion of the religious discord that beset the Byzantine Empire, see Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 815–51, and for its specific impact on the Muslim conquest of Egypt, see ibid., 949–51.