And in a weer gan I wexe, and wiþ myself to dispute
Wheiþer I were chosen or no3t chosen; on holi chirche I þou3te
That vnderfonged me atte font for oon of goddes chosene.
For crist cleped vs alle, come if we wolde,
Sar3ens and scismatikes and so he dide þe Iewes
(B, XI, 116–20)39
[My heart] filled with doubt and I fretted with fear
As to whether I were chosen: had the Church in fact cheated
When it welcomed me with water as one of the baptized?
Surely Christ called us all if we cared to come,
Heathens and heretics, and even the Jews.
(Step XI, 113–17)
The positions are clearly drawn: Christ is ready to welcome everyone willing to turn to Him, and He would not make a difference between individuals, irrespective of their religious background. Again, this is not to say that Langland would have entertained any notion of tolerance, acknowledging other religions, since his religious viewpoint was entirely determined by his Christian perspective.
Nevertheless, he argued strongly that no one would be turned away by Christ, the one who could be called the most tolerant entity in the world, as long as people would acknowledge Him. We notice, in other words, a strong sense of viewing the entire world as being part of the same human race, which differed only in some theological aspects and could always come together harmoniously if they all accepted Christ as the one and only God in His Trinity, of course.40 In fact, he paired himself personally with the ‘Other’. Granted, this might not even fall under the category of toleration, but there is certainly a noticeable effort to reach out to Muslims, Jews, and Heretics insofar as Langland regards them as dignified individuals who simply have not yet fully understood the religious message that he wants to extend to them. In modern theoretical terms, we might charge him with carrying out colonizing efforts, but within the medieval context, we ought to acknowledge his outreach to people of different faiths within the framework of his own theological, ethical, and philosophical ruminations. This and other passages can, thus, be identified as strategies to sensitize his audience regarding ‘Otherness’ all over the world and that it would behoove Christians to extend a welcome to Jews and Muslims, among a variety of other religionists.
Reinfrid von Braunschweig
Our arguments so far have been predicated on admittedly rather thin evidence, trying to tease out meaning where easily counter-perspectives could be raised, though I still assume that the claims can be maintained in light of the close reading. The situation changes quite dramatically when we turn to crusading epics or verse narratives where the protagonist encounters heathen, i.e. Muslim, opponents and has to come to terms with them because they appear to be highly worthy, dignified individuals who simply demand respect despite their belief in the Islamic religion. While the discussion of various passages in Walther von der Vogelweide’s poems and in Langland’s Piers Plowman touched only on elusive comments how Christianity was to be viewed in face of Judaism and Islam, at the end of the thirteenth century and later increasingly poets tended to forgo all efforts to portray Muslims in really negative terms.
My first major example here is the anonymous Middle High German Reinfrid von Braunschweig (ca. 1290 or 1300), where we encounter a surprising episode that shares significant elements with those developed by Rudolf von Ems in his Der guote Gêrhart. Even though predicated on the idea of a crusading romance, the religious animosity between two protagonists is suddenly giving way to mutual respect and even friendship. Here, we encounter a surprising turn in the events when Reinfrid realizes that he cannot force his opponent, especially not through physical violence, to convert to Christianity, and from that time on, the religious difference between the two men is no longer an issue.
The anonymous Reinfrid von Braunschweig, which breaks off as a fragment after verse 27,627, has been preserved in only one manuscript (Gotha, Forschungsbibliothek, Cod. Memb. II 42, from the first half of the fourteenth century). The anonymous author might have originated from Switzerland, or the area of the Lake Constance, and he might not have been a member of nobility because of several references to poor living conditions. The romance might have been composed on behalf of a high-ranking member of the Welf dynasty because there are references to the famous Henry the Lion (1129/31–1195), probably shortly after 1291 when the last Crusader fortress of Acre fell to the Muslim forces. And the protagonist himself is identified as Duke of Brunswick.
Reinfrid marries, after several conflicts with another, jealous knight, the Danish Princess Yrkane, but their marriage remains childless until they learn through dreams that they would be able to conceive a child if he went on a crusade. Indeed, just before Reinfrid embarks on his journey, he can impregnate Yrkane. Having arrived in the Holy Land, he is heavily involved in fights against the Muslims, but in a duel with the king of Persia, he can overcome him. But he does not kill him and receives instead the pledge that all the holy sites so important for the Christians will be handed over to them. Both men strike a friendship, and after Reinfrid has visited those pilgrimage sites, he accepts the Persian’s invitation to visit with him the many exotic locations in his kingdom. He encounters magical figures, monsters, creatures, and even comes to the Magnetic Mountain. In the meantime, Yrkane has given birth to a boy and sent Reinfrid a messenger to call him back home. Overwhelmed by all those Oriental miracles, it seems as if he had almost forgotten his wife and own country, but now he departs to travel back to Saxony. However, at one point, he is inadvertently left behind on an island. At this very point, the romance breaks off. As impressive as this anonymous romance proves to be, being certainly influenced by some of the greatest writers and their works of the high Middle Ages, such as Herzog Ernst, Gottfried von Straßburg’s Tristan, the Alexander tradition (Göttweiger Trojanerkrieg), and the romances by Konrad von Würzburg, the medieval contemporaries do not seem to have appreciated this work much, considering that it has survived only in one manuscript.41
Closely following the tradition of the chanson de geste, especially the Middle High German Rolandslied by the Priest Conrad (ca. 1180), the descriptions of the battle by the Christians against the Muslims are very bloody and result in scores of men. However, here, the military triumph is guaranteed, and Reinfrid’s victory is never in doubt, especially when the heathens turn to flight (16241). But the war is not over yet, and more Muslim forces get involved, though they are also defeated at the end because of the mighty actions by Reinfrid who fights with the motto “amor vincit omnîâ” (17119; love conquers all), which the narrator translates also into Middle High German.
Due to his superior knightly skills and strengths, Reinfrid can overcome his opponent, the Persian king, and hit him so hard that his shield falls off (17519). Friends and relatives of the Persian king beg Reinfrid to spare the defeated opponent (17550–54). Even the ruler of Babylon intervenes and appeals to the duke of Brunswick to demonstrate mercy in the name of all ladies and of knighthood (17563–81). Religious differences, political conflicts, and cultural oppositions are irrelevant here, whereas knightly values and human dignity are identified as the crucial features determining the relationship between the two warriors, who should, ultimately, not kill each other. As the emperor of Babylon underscores, Reinfrid would not profit from killing the king of Persia (17578).
For Reinfrid, the situation seems to be very different at first because he does not want to appear to be corruptible and to spare the Persian’s life in return for great wealth (17584–85). If the other one would be willing to accept baptism, the situation would look very different. Reinfrid demands further that the Muslims would guarantee that the Christians could secure free access to all their holy sites (17588–92). Impressively, the ruler of Babylon gives in because he cherishes the Persian king’s life more than the possession of all those lands (17618–24). Even though coming from a weak position, being forced to make this huge offer, the author actually portrays him in r
ather positive terms as an ethically praiseworthy individual who is prepared to do whatever is in his power to rescue the Persian king.
Remarkably, once the agreement has been reached, Reinfrid and the Persian establish “bruoderlîche triuwe” (17630; brotherly loyalty). Of course, as the narrator comments, what prince would not have accepted such a huge ransom? But he tries to defend Reinfrid as well and to free him from any suspicion that he might have taken the offer out of greed. He acted, so we are told, only out of deep concern for the Christian honor (17641), which in turn increased the reputation that Brunswick and Saxony enjoy (17644). By contrast, as the following section reveals, both the emperor and the pope would probably not have acted so selflessly and would have taken all the promised gold and jewels for themselves. The same criticism is directed against the entire clergy, which the narrator accuses of being selfish and money-oriented, a charge that reverberated throughout the entire late Middle Ages and found expression in countless texts all over Europe.42
After a lengthy discussion about ethical principles, constantly underscoring Reinfrid’s glorious character in every respect, the focus returns to the Persian king who now, free from fearing for his life, lovingly embraces his opponent and invites him to come along with him and tour his entire vast empire: “varent mit mir schouwen” (17824; travel with me so you can see). Demonstrating great gratitude for having spared his life, the Persian wants to offer his service to Reinfrid for the rest of his life. However, he begs him to refrain from any efforts to convert him to Christianity, although he himself would be happy to promote the Christian cause wherever possible (17838–40). Yet, for him to abandon his old faith and that of his own people would be deeply shameful and a disgrace to his rank as the Persian king (17841–45). He presents him then with the opposite case to explain his own reasons, indicating that if Reinfrid would be forced to convert to Islam under duress, he would always experience dishonor and shamefulness (17854). Moreover, the application of force in religious matters would be useless since each individual is born into his/her own country and culture and, hence, determined by that in character, identity, and faith. The one doing the work trying to convert the other would simply waste his/her time (17860), especially because the newly converted would only pretend to have accepted the new faith, while in reality, the heart would still adhere to the old faith (17862–63). Yet, he pledges to Reinfrid once again that he would certainly fulfill his part of the agreement and carry out whatever the other would require him to do (17865–67).
Reinfrid realizes, indeed, that it would be impossible for him to force the Persian king to convert and to accept baptism. It would only result in gaining a “bœsen kristen” (17879; evil Christian). The conversion itself would produce “zwîvels überkraft” (17875; overpowering doubt). Consequently, the protagonist decides to let matters stand as they are out of the wise understanding:
ein heiden er belîben sol,
sît man nieman sol twingen
ze kristenlîchen dingen,
er habe denn selbe sin dâ zuo.
(17868–91)
[He shall remain a heathen
since no one ought to force anyone
to Christianity,
unless he is determined to do so in his own mind.]
In fact, Reinfrid realizes that he himself would become sinful if he were to employ force in such a personal matter as religious orientation (17895), so he pronounces to the Persian king:
…‘herre, sît daz ir
dâ zuo niht rehten willen hât,
mîn geloube alsô stât
daz man mit keinen dingen
sol liute dâ zuo twingen,
man welle ez denne gerne tuon
(17896–901)
[…‘lord, since you
do not have the proper will to do so,
it is my conviction
that no one should force people to do so
under any circumstances,
unless the person wants to do so willingly.]
Otherwise, Christianity would enjoy very little honor; and no one should turn to God unless s/he would be driven by his/her own will (“mit frîgem willen sîn,” 17905; with his/her own free will). Nevertheless, Reinfrid strongly encourages him to reconsider and to turn his soul toward God because no one would be able to protect his or her soul, material possessions, and even life without the Christian faith. However, he does not state this in absolute terms, but qualifies it, stating that it would be the best approach: “in der welte baz” (17914; better in this world). If Reinfrid could convince the Persian king to accept Christianity, it would be a most welcome matter and would help him tremendously (17919). If the king were to decide against it, Reinfrid would feel sorry for him, especially since it could hurt him in the long run.
Both the ruler of Babylon, the “soldan,” and the Persian king express their great joy over the development of this situation and give Reinfrid the highest praise. They also stay by their pledge and turn over Jerusalem and the Holy Land to the Christian Church. Subsequently, the protagonist tours all holy sites and orders their restoration, listening happily to the advice provided by the Persian king (17952–55). Both men begin to operate from that moment on very closely and enjoy each other’s company, demonstrating great friendship and cooperation in many different ways. Their religious positions no longer matter, and both feel free to pursue their own faith without having to worry about the other one criticizing him. Reinfrid never endeavors to instruct the Persian king about the basic tenets of Christianity and from that time on, assumes simply the role of a tourist who greatly indulges in the mysterious world of the Orient. The entire crusading ideology has disappeared and has given way to toleration, if not even tolerance, in the best sense of the word.43
Of course, we must not ignore that the world of heathendom—here as well the usual term for Muslims—has become obsequious to Christianity and no longer fights it, at least during the lifetime of the Persian king. The future situation changed radically, as the narrator emphasizes, because the Christians lost the Holy Land once again, which is mirrored by the fall of Acre in 1291 (17980). The anonymous poet, thus, reconnects his fictional account with the historical facts, and, yet, within the literary framework, he projects a dramatic alternative with the Christians enjoying their rule over Jerusalem and all the other holy sites as a result of Reinfrid’s great knightly accomplishments. This allows the narrator, in a way, to retell the biblical story of Christ’s Passion, here exemplified by the individual places and locations as visited by the protagonist and his new Persian friend.
Subsequently, Reinfrid leaves his army behind and travels with the king to his exotic country where he can observe and marvel at countless miracles, monsters, and wonders, entirely given in to “kurzewîl” (18209; entertainment), also guided and accompanied by the “werde heide[ ]” (18344; worthy heathen). The narrator goes even so far as to identify the king as “der heiden rîch von hôher art” (18347; the mighty and very noble heathen). Significantly, however, Reinfrid does not tour the foreign world with a colonialist attitude and does not harbor any interest in taking control, or in surveying the land as to its potential quality as a colony in the future. He has left his army behind and operates simply, as we would say today, as a tourist who enjoys the mysterious and exciting wonders that the king presents to him.44
During their excursions, the two men also encounter a dwarf who relates to them what has allegedly happened with his lord, the Persian king, who has died, as he believes based on reports that had reached him, in a battle against a Christian knight. Both men smile about this wrong assumption (18458) and have their fun with the dwarf until they reveal the truth to him. For our purpose, however, it matters deeply how the narrator makes the dwarf characterize his lord, whom he calls “werde[ ]” (18398; worthy), “milte” (18403; generous), “ein ritter unverzagt” (18405; an unwavering knight), and a man who could not be corrupted (18412–13).
Within the framework of toleration, it greatly matters that
the narrator projects the heathen, i.e. the Muslim king, in the same terms as he had done before regarding Reinfrid. Both men emerge as virtually equal in their virtues and ethical ideals and stand out as mighty knights who deserve to be their peoples’ leaders. Even though the motif of the ‘good heathen’ as developed in Ems’s Der guote Gêrhart was projected differently, especially since the protagonist is identified only as a merchant, whereas his opponent, Stranmûr, serves as his lord’s castellan, we recognize here a specific continuity of portraying Muslim nobles in the same vein as their Christian counterparts and removing the traditionally hostile relationship, often leading to the Muslim’s death at the hand of the Christian knight.
Religion does not matter here, whereas the figures’ character, morality, ethics, and social interactions assume central roles. This, however, proves to be the fundamental basis for toleration, if not even tolerance, and the anonymous Reinfrid von Braunschweig serves us well in the present context to underscore poignantly once again that the pre-modern world was certainly not entirely blind to the idea of tolerance and happily accepted the concept that a Christian knight could be the good friend of a heathen ruler in the distant Orient. What better aspect could we cite but friendship as a solid basis to form a community of equal and mutually respectful individuals, and this already in the Middle Ages?
King of Tars
Of course, the paradigm of Christianity dominated virtually all thinking, and we would have a hard time identifying any medieval text where the Christian religion would not be the fundamental framework, whereas all other religions appear as heretical, foolish, ignorant, and deceptive, especially in the genre of chansons de geste.45 Even Reinfrid went to the Holy Land in order to fight the Saracens, but he quickly had to learn that such binary oppositions could not simply solve the issues of religious differences. This turn of events must have surprised the medieval audience, and perhaps even irked members of the clergy who commonly and consistently urged their parishioners to embrace a militant attitude vis-à-vis non-Christian others, but we can find other examples in pre-modern literature as well where we encounter at least a certain willingness to stage heathen rulers and to make them into acceptable characters who could become candidates for conversion to Christianity. The good heathen would, hence, be the one who would leave his/her old religion behind and accept the Christian faith, certainly a colonialist perspective, as we would call it today. The topos of the Saracen princess who falls in love with a Christian knight, escapes with him to Europe, converts, and rises to the status of a mighty queen or duchess together with her husband, now directly opposed to her earlier family, such as in Eschenbach’s Willehalm (ca. 1218), has already been discussed from various perspectives.46
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