RIchard the Lionheart was a man of war and he had many adversaries in his lifetime. He fought his father more than once in his early years, and fought with his father against the rebellious lords of the Aquitaine and against the French King even more frequently. He spent the last six years of his life in a bitter struggle against King Philip II. Yet of all his adversaries few have captured the imagination of chroniclers, novelists or artists as much as the man he fought in the Holy Land - Sultan Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub, more commonly known as Saladin.
Saladin has long been viewed as the epitome of “chivalry.” His honesty and sense of honor is often compared favorably to the duplicity and dishonor of Richard's Christian foes such as the Holy Roman Emperor and Philip of France. Indeed, in the 19th century it became common to suggest that, while the crusaders (including Richard!) were treacherous barbarians, Saladin stood out as a paragon of virtue and honor, a shining light of decency and chivalry in an otherwise brutal age. This is the view of Saladin that dictated the highly sympathetic portrayal in Ridley Scott's film “The Kingdom of Heaven.”
This positive
view of Saladin in Western literature is largely attributable to a biography of
Saladin published by Stanley Lane-Poole in 1898. This was arguably the first
scholarly biography of the 12th century Kurdish leader in the
English language, and Lane-Poole made a major contribution to Western
scholarship by drawing upon Arab sources for his work. Unfortunately, he did so uncritically,
adopting without scruple the purely adulatory descriptions of
Saladin penned by the Sultan’s court biographers. Indeed, Lane-Poole is
so completely under the spell of his Arab sources that he claims: “...civilization,
magnanimity, toleration, real chivalry, and gentle culture were all on the side
of the Saracens.” With this statement, Lane-Poole dismisses Richard the Lionheart, the troubadour and paragon of Western chivalry, without so much as a mention.
Yet, as Andrew Ehrenkreutz meticulously documents in his biography of Saladin, far from being the embodiment of "magnanimity, real chivalry and gentle culture," Saladin used deceit, hypocrisy, propaganda, bribery, extortion, murder and, ultimately aggressive war to establish an empire in the Near East. Notably, Saladin spent much more time and many more resources fighting (and killing) fellow Muslims than he did fighting Christians, and that Saladin was responsible for the loss of many more Sunni Muslim lives than Christian ones.
Yet, as Andrew Ehrenkreutz meticulously documents in his biography of Saladin, far from being the embodiment of "magnanimity, real chivalry and gentle culture," Saladin used deceit, hypocrisy, propaganda, bribery, extortion, murder and, ultimately aggressive war to establish an empire in the Near East. Notably, Saladin spent much more time and many more resources fighting (and killing) fellow Muslims than he did fighting Christians, and that Saladin was responsible for the loss of many more Sunni Muslim lives than Christian ones.
Furthermore, the
many instances in which Saladin treated former foes with leniency, often
awarding them new lands and titles within his growing empire, demonstrates not
so much his “gentleness” and “chivalry” as his cynical opportunism. If fighting
men, particularly the commanders of contingents of troops that offered
effective armed opposition to Saladin, could be bought with the promises of
riches and titles, then why fight? After all, the alternative (killing or
enslaving his opponents on capture) would only have increased the tenacity and
fervor of his opponents, and Saladin had a hard enough time subduing them as it
was. His mild treatment of defectors is not so much a mark of “gentleness” and “chivalry”
as of opportunism that was particularly effective against the fragmented and
jealous feudal lords in northern Syria.
Against these
documented cases of apparent “gentleness” and “chivalry” are a number of
equally well documented incidents of ruthlessness, brutality, duplicity and
vindictiveness that are incompatible with the image of
Saladin as the paragon of chivalry. To name only a few, Saladin played a key role in eliminating the
Egyptian vizier Shawar. Then, having won the confidence and trust of the Fatimid Caliph, Saladin worked systematically to undermine his
regime and carried out a bloody coup d’etat against the Fatimid elite as soon
as the Caliph conveniently died. While it might be argued that this was
justified by repeated Fatimid conspiracies against Saladin or by Sunni
orthodoxy’s hostility to Shiism, the same cannot be said of the slaughter of
the unarmed women and children of the Sudanese guard that the “gentle and
chivalrous” Saladin ordered burned alive in their homes. And if that weren’t
enough, Saladin ended the rebellion of their men by agreeing to spare their
lives if they left Cairo — only to break his word and slaughter them after they
had laid down their arms.
So, yes, Saladin did break his word when it suited his purposes -- as he did to Richard the Lionheart with regard to the surrender of Acre.
So, yes, Saladin did break his word when it suited his purposes -- as he did to Richard the Lionheart with regard to the surrender of Acre.
Saladin next
distinguished himself by waging war against the heir of his feudal overlord Nur
al-Din, the eleven-year-old al-Salih -- but only after first swearing
humble and abject submission to al-Salih. When the young
Sultan’s legal guardians refused to acknowledge Saladin’s bogus claims to be the “true” guardian
of the young Sultan, Saladin gave up his pretense of serving the interests of al-Salih,
and demanded patents for his position as Sultan of Damascus from the Abbasid
caliph of Baghdad. He then spent the
better part of the next ten years fighting bitter campaigns against the family
of Nur al-Din and their supporters based in Aleppo and Mosul and all across
northern Syria.
Which is not to
say that Saladin did not fight the Christians too. In fact, Saladin undertook a
number of campaigns against the Christians including the invasion of 1177 that
ended Saladin’s complete humiliation at Montgisard, the invasion of 1179 that
ended in the routing of the Templars and the capture of nearly 300 Christian
knights and nobles on the Litani. The siege of Beirut in the same year, the
campaign that ended in the draw at Le Forbelet in 1182, the equally indecisive
campaign of 1183, and the sieges of Kerak in 1183 and 1184. This may sound like
an impressive track record, but given Saladin’s overwhelming strategic
advantages, and the fact that the Kingdom of Jerusalem was led by a youth
slowing dying of leprosy, his lack of success has led some historians to suggest either strategic and
tactical incompetence or anemic motivation.
Not that Saladin
didn’t demonstrate his hatred of the
Franks. When in August of 1178, less
than a year after Saladin’s scalding defeat at Montgisard, Christian prisoners
fell into Saladin’s hands he had them summarily executed, one by one, by
members of his retinue. Aside from it being against Sharia law to kill men who
had surrendered, it was hardly a demonstration of “chivalry.” Nor was it an
isolated incident. When the Christians involved in the Red Sea raids were
finally run-to-earth and captured, Saladin again ordered their execution. According
to Bernard Hamilton in his excellent work The
Leper King and His Heirs, the Christian prisoners were “taken to Mecca
where, during the great annual pilgrimage, they were…slaughtered ‘like animals
for sacrifice.’” Clearly these men were mercenaries and they had killed Muslim
pilgrims and captured Arab shipping so perhaps they were not worthy of mercy,
but the same cannot be said of the “unlucky common Christian soldier whom the
sultan had slain when he noticed a minor facial scratch his son al-Afdal [by
then in his late teens] sustained in the battle of Arsuf.” (Ehrenkreutz, p.
228.)
Last but not
least, no discussion of Saladin would be complete without reference to the
brutal execution of the Templars and Hospitallers taken captive at the Battle
of Hattin. On July 6, these knights and sergeants, bound and helpless, were
beheaded in public. Bartlett describes the scene in Downfall of the Crusader Kingdom as follows: “Saladin gave the task…to
a group of religious Sufis, holy men largely untrained in the arts of war. Some
of them took six or seven attempts to sever the heads of their victims…However
justified the death of these men might have been in military terms, the cruelty
and indignity of their death did Saladin no credit whatsoever. It was an act of
violence, almost barbarism, which Saladin’s apologists have all too frequently
glossed over.” (Bartlett, p. 204-205.)
It is important to remember that this
massacre preceded — and may indeed have helped instigate — the slaughter of the
Muslim hostages at Acre by Richard the Lionheart four years later. If Richard the Lionheart's reputation was sullied by the massacre at Acre, so was Saladin's by the massacre after Hattin. The 12th century was a brutal age, and empires were not built with kindness and "gentle culture" -- not in France, Aquitaine, Egypt or Syria.
Saladin in a character in my three-part biography of Balian d'Ibelin:
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Saladin in a character in my three-part biography of Balian d'Ibelin:
Buy now! Buy now! Buy now (paperback)
or Kindle!















