Anybody looking for a primer on the Crusades needs look no further than this excellent work by Jonathan Phillips. Taking us as it does from the declaration of the first Crusade in 1095 through to the present day and the legacy the Crusades have bestowed upon the modern world, Phillips helps us to understand, at least in part, the origins of some of the sensitivities leading to many of the conflicts still raging in the world today, just a little of which understanding may have assisted in avoiding their exacerbation: Phillips, like many others, cites specifically George W Bush's use of the word in one of his post 9/11 speeches.
Many of the episodes and occurrences have the power to raise eyebrows or to cause a penny to drop in the revelation, and sometimes both. One of the interesting consequences of King Baldwin of Jerusalem's rather unchristian marital arrangements was the accession of a woman, Melisende, to throne of Jerusalem. In 1148, chaste by a series of mawlings at the hands of the Turks, King Louis devolved executive power over the French army to the Knights Templar, hence bestowing upon them a power that would last a century and a half, and a legend that lingers to this day. And he describes Frederick as an erudite and pragmatic ruler, wearing his Christianity lightly, fraternising with Muslims, employing them in his army and conversing in Arabic.
In contrast to the apparent enlightenment of a woman in power in Jerusalem, one can't help but wonder at the general lot of women of the nobility, passed around like chattels: betrothed at 8, married at 13, widowed at 14, needing to get remarried quickly to retain influence, promised to a series of nobles in the interests of alliances and, in the case of Richard's sister, to Saladin's brother, Saphadin.
Perhaps the most amazing stories are of the internecine conflicts conducted during the Crusades. The Albigensian Crusade, in fact, was aimed at the heretic Christians of the Cathar sect, which threatened the Catholic power structure. During that particular campaign we have Abbot Arnold Amalric, when questioned about indiscriminately massacring the inhabitants of the town of Béziers, in southern France, telling his followers, "Kill them all. God will know his own." What the author misses, however, is some of the feeling of fear felt by each side of some of their own: the Assassins on the Muslim side; the Christian "tafurs", a particularly unpleasant bunch of brutish ruffians and scoundrels exercising their right to indulge in murder and mayhem under the shelter of a religious campaign.
Phillips spends considerable time on individual personalities, and particularly those like Richard and Saladin, whose respective characteristics are dealt with in some detail. Richard was, it seems, truly a Lionheart in battle, leading from the front, hacking his opponents to shreds. He was intelligent, valiant, quick-tempered, generous and pious, the very model of a warrior king. Saladin considered him impetuous, but Phillips depicts him as circumspect, well aware of the role of chance in the heat of battle. Saladin is depicted as wise, just and magnanimous, and stories are related of his various kindnesses to captive adversaries. Gracious in victory, he also permitted Christian pilgrims access to the venerated sites of Jerusalem once it was clear that attempts to take the city had been abandoned. But Richard was prone to odd judgements, as in his dealings over Cyprus, and has never, to this day, been forgotten for his brutality at Acre (you may have noticed a reference to it by Russell Crowe's Robin Hood, for example), and Saladin never forgave.
One of the more "successful" campaigns of the Crusades was the Spanish Reconquista. This was very much an on/off affair, as attention drifted to and from the Levant. Originally a priority of the Crusades, it reverted to a local affair when the papacy switched attention to North Africa in the 13th Century. The houses of Castile and Léon united during that period to take advantage of the divided attentions of the ruling Almohads, and in the 15th century the Iberian peninsula was back on the crusading agenda with fighters flocking from all over for the final overthrow of Granada. Interestingly, Phillips claims Columbus as a crusader, in his appeal to the Reyes Catolicos proposing that the profits of his expedition be poured into the retaking of Jerusalem.
The account of the Crusades themselves rounds off with these events and the capture of Byzantine Constantinople by the Ottomans, but Phillips suggests that the last significant crusade was, in fact, the Armada. That particular disaster for Catholicism, together with the other items in the debit column of a balance sheet replete with abject failure, and populated by untold destruction, misery and death by warfare, disease, starvation, torture and various accidents and vagaries of the elements, makes one wonder what the faithful made of the help they received from their god whilst doing his work, what contortions of logic had to be applied to explain divine neglect resulting in the calamity that was the Crusades.
Talking of God, his representatives on Earth generally come out of this book surrounded by a most toxic stench, and when the story is brought into the 20th Century none more so than the Catholic canon of Salamanca cathedral who invokes the spirit of the Crusades when he announces his support for the franquista uprising in 1936. There is no doubt where the Catholic hierarchy stood in that particular national exsanguination. It remains a mystery, however, how the various prelates rationalised their support for an army heavily dependent on Muslim Moroccan troops.
Very wisely, though, Phillips spends very little time on explanations of the differences between the faith systems involved in any of the conflicts he recounts. Each side carries the label "holy warrior", each "infidel", and their respective beliefs make little difference, especially on those occasions when they turn in upon each other: it never ceases to amaze that the Muslim Assassin sect tried to murder Saladin. The book also avoids, in the main, calling the coastal strip of North Africa "the Holy Land", preferring the more secular Levant.
To conclude, just a few cavils. Whilst generally well-written and engrossing, there are a few minor tics, which I would attribute to the editors rather than the author. Some typos, as in "canan", where I assume "canon" is intended, and we have Saladin born in Takrit, not Tikrit. There is also an account of "heavy overnight rainfall overnight", just in case there was any doubt about when it occurred, perhaps. And that ever-irritating possessive apostrophe following "s" issue, so we have princess', James' and Louis' (although on one occasion the correct Louis's has slipped through). I assume the perpetrators of this calumny are of the opinion that putting an `s at the end of a word ending in s sounds odd, or something, but how are we to explain that with regard to Louis, where the s isn't pronounced? And if it's James', why not Louise'? Believe me, it's princess's, James's and Louis's, and, for that matter, Louise's.