The Big Bummer

Happy Easter, History fans!

You have probably been shaking your heads, thinking that I already gave up on my resolution! Well, I hate to disappoint you naysayers! In fact, I ran into the age-old problem of the next book syndrome. You finish a book, and then you start ten others until you are satisfied. Well, I finally found one that stuck: Timothy Egan’s The Big Burn.

You might recognize Egan’s name from one of my favorite book reviews, The Worst Hard Time. His story of the dustbowl had me fascinated. And though his account of the great fire of the Bitterroot Mountains is indeed captivating, I found myself annoyed with his portrayal of the good and bad characters from the story. 

The Big Burn follows the path of the National Forest Service, which is intertwined with the life of Teddy Roosevelt. In August 20, a huge firestorm took hold of some of the national forests Roosevelt had fought so hard to preserve. In the fire’s wake, however, the public realized the need for the forest rangers and the day was saved. An interesting story, but what I found most compelling was Teddy Roosevelt himself. I knew very little of the man prior to this reading. Egan paints him in such a heroic light that it is difficult not to like him. I tweeted as much only to be chastised by my friend Mandy Ogunnowo, who stated that some Native Americans might disagree. So I dove a little further into his life and found, in the words of Louis Auchincloss, that Roosevelt was a “complex dynamo of seeming inconsistencies.”  Indeed, it seemed that Roosevelt was intent on being just that.

The 26^th president was born asthmatic, a weakling. He idolized his father whose actions and words had a profound impact on who young Teddy would become. Theodore SR. skipped out on the Civil War because his bride was a confederate supporter from the south and did not want the family torn apart. This lack of action seemed to lodge itself deep within Teddy and create in him a courage that teetered on madness. And even though he seemed disappointed in that single action of his father’s, he nonetheless took to heart his warning that if Teddy did not get his body into shape, his mind would suffer. So the sick young boy took it as a challenge. He charged straight at his weakness, the way he would later bowl over his enemies, and dedicated his time to calithenics, exercise and sports. He became in love with the outdoors and its beauty. An asthmatic outdoorsman. But this was just the beginning of his life of competing oppositions.

Roosevelt eventually found his way into the Progressive party, an extreme wing of the Republicans. Although a man of extreme wealth, his time out in the Dakotas working as a cattle driver and all-around cowboy, Teddy had come to appreciate the difficulties of the “small man.” Part of his progressive stance that would not come to fruition until his cousin Franklin took office decades later was his avocation for child labor laws and demands for minimum wage. He also found the corruption of big corporations and their hand in Congress absolutely appalling. It is difficult in modern day to imagine a Republican with such conviction and liberal ideas. This is part of the reason why he was such a headache for both Republicans and Democrats. He was an idealist and a loudmouth. A deadly combination in Washington.

You might wonder how a politician who bothered so many people and straddled the political could divide ever end up being president. For one, Roosevelt was full of unending energy. He steamrolled from one position to another, annoying enemies as well as making the right friends. But the catalyst that made Theodore Roosevelt a demanding public figure was his role in the fight for Cuba. Many people are familiar with his hand in the Rough Riders and the charging of San Juan Hill. His heroics put his name on the map. What many don’t know is that he had really no business being there in the first place. At the time, Roosevelt held an office position in the navy, a good job, and one that did not necessitate his enlisting in the army. And probably would have been smarter if he had stayed and performed his duties. Haunted by his father’s inaction, Roosevelt would have none of it. He led a group of east coast polo players and dudes from the plain states on a war-winning campaign in Cuba. His notoriety landed him the job of governor of New York, where he met Gifford Pinchot and developed his revolutionary idea of conservation.

Now conservation at this point was a relatively new but not unheard of idea. Made popular by the greatest of nature-writers John Muir, the idea of saving some of the country’s natural resources, forests included, for the sheer enjoyment of the public was gathering a little steam. Teddy loved the outdoors and was a prime candidate to champion the cause of saving the forests. All he needed was some nudging. Enter Gifford Pinchot, another well-to-do man from the wealthy east who fell in love with the western landscape. A man to match Roosevelt’s energy, they bonded in the boxing ring, on the wrestling mat, and on hikes up mountainsides. They both had lost young wives and had been healed by the beauty of the land out west.

Gifford had a plan and he needed someone with power to help him achieve it. The idea was a sort of army or police force, a group of soldiers whose sole undertaking was saving the lands in the west from prospectors, timber companies, miners, and all the others with dollar signs on the brains. National forests for the public. For enjoyment! A bully idea! The national forests appealed to Teddy but probably not as much as taking on the corrupt companies and politicians who were making millions hollowing out the landscape. The two became nearly inseparable. Pinchot served on Roosevelt’s cabinets when he finally secured the presidency. And the two would crusade tirelessly for the public ownership of the resources.

Here I think it is important to point the most glaring inconsistency of Roosevelt’s life. He fought hard in the face of overwhelming aggression for the idea of the national forest. Even after he left office and the hapless Taft sat in the White House, Teddy would give speeches and advocate for sanctity of the land. Yet this noble cause was at brutal odds with his blood-lust towards other life forms. The man loved to hunt and loved to kill. There were unsettling stories that came out of Cuba that whispered Roosevelt was a blood-thirsty maniac. And almost to complete his absurd inconsistent policies, he had, as Mandy was so kind to point out, a frightening indifference toward the Native American population. Here was Teddy Roosevelt, fighting publicly to save forests for the enjoyment of the small man while his progressive policies were consistently stripping away land from native tribes. Why should they get all the good land? That’s exactly what Roosevelt’s enemies were shouting about the national forests! Why should the public be in charge of all this perfectly good timber? And as if taking their land back wasn’t enough, the Roosevelt administration swayed back and forth on their policy for assimilation of Native Americans. At first it was thought that they should do away with the reservations, force the native kids into public schools, and make the Indians part of the USA whether they liked it or not. But not long after they started down this road, they performed an about-face and decided to give them a big ol’ FUCK YOU and take away their citizenship, leaving them completely helpless and shut off from the rest of the country. Egan seemed to have forgotten this side of Roosevelt. Oops!

Egan does, however, give us a villain to root against. The evil Senator Heyburn from Montana who fought just as tirelessly against the national forest as Roosevelt fought for it. There are certainly some nasty things about Heyburn, including his blocking the child labor laws, but I think he was villianized a little too much. It is easy in retrospect to say, “How dare you stand in the way of our beloved national forests!” But at the time, that idea seemed ludicrous. People were striking it rich out west, both in the mines and from the trees. The states of Montana and Idaho, as well as eastern Washington and Oregon, were hardly touched by humanity. At a time when jobs were scarce and immigrants were pouring into the country, why not chop up the land? Money could be made and not just by the already wealthy railroad moguls, but by prospectors and labor men who just needed a steady paycheck. Why would the president stand in the way of progress, of jobs, and of the American dream?

Onto the fire! Here’s the setup: Pinchot and Roosevelt got a bunch of land secured. We are talking millions of acres. But creeps like Senator Heyburn kept any sort of working budget away from the newly formed Forest Service. Pinchot collected as many young men from the Yale School of Forestry as he could. These green boys were given the incredible task of policing, protecting, and maintaining the huge amount of land that was now officially the public’s. We are talking one man overseeing a 30 million acre forest on little to no budget. I smell impending doom! 

The rangers had a rough time. The railroad and timber companies laughed at the rangers and operated in open defiance. Small towns popped up within the forests that were filled with gambling, prostitution, and all sorts of debauchery. The people’s forest indeed! So these poor college boys were already exhausted when the driest summer in decades settled down upon the Bitterroot Mountains and the surrounding national forests. The foresters knew that it was only a matter of time before the lack of rain caught up with them and a forest fire would take hold. But they believed that if they were diligent, they could prevent a fire from starting, or at least contain one once it started. What they refused to believe, though, was that fire was a natural and necessary part of the cycle of life in the wild.

In August of 1910, small fires had popped up all over the forests. The underbrush and the trees were so dry, anything could set it off: a spark from the railroad, lightning from an electrical storm. The understaffed and underpaid foresters began their impossible task of fighting off the fires . . . by setting fires. The concept at the time was that fire needed fuel. But if you destroyed the fuel in its path, the fire would die out. DOOM! On August 20 a hurricane-like wind blew from the west and fell upon the Bitterroots, picking up the small fires and turning them into a terrifying firestorm of winds up to 70 miles an hour. Imagine a force that could match the atomic bomb that landed on Hiroshima moving as a galloping fireball, destroying everything in its path.

The majority of Egan’s book looks at some of the foresters and the citizens who lived through the two-day fiery nightmare. Some lived and some died in a horrible inferno. Those who lived were heralded as heroes. And you know what? The American public decided that they never wanted to see anything like that again, so they demanded that Congress pour more money into the Forest Service. Hooray! A happy ending, right? Good lord, no. The fire destroyed millions of acres of first growth forest that Pinchot and Roosevelt had fought so hard to protect. The foresters who tried to fight the fire were killed and maimed, without assistance from the government to pay their medical bills. And could Heyburn have been right when he said that if he had been allowed to cut down the trees, the fire would not have burned them up? What in the world do we make of this story? Egan ends the book by recounting Gifford Pinchot’s last trip out west when he was in his seventies, only to see that even the forests that had managed to not be destroyed being pilfered by timber companies. What the hell was gained? The only thing we can really take away is the gratitude that someone stood up for national forests before it was too late . . . even if it mostly all backfired in their faces. Backfire! Hot dog!

We can take away at least this: Pinchot and Roosevelt both (eventually) gave up popularity and even credibility to follow their beliefs. Pinchot never ceased to fight the corporations and the people who wanted to see his beloved forests into company assets. Roosevelt, who had to compromise his beliefs in order to achieve his political aspirations, eventually split off from the Republican Party and went third party. Political suicide. They were idealists and romantics and both a little screwy. And as dark as some of Teddy’s tendencies were, I still think he is a demanding presence in history and a fascinating example of the complicated human experience. He rolled through life at full steam, seemingly wanting to get things done and not quite caring about what exactly it was he was doing. He was a man of simultaneous opposing beliefs, a complete mystery of a man who was too loud and too large to ignore.

But our thanks should fall at Pinchot’s feet. He was a man who has been all but forgotten in history. A similar ball of energy that constantly had Roosevelt’s ear, his policies and plans are largely attributed to his superior. But where Roosevelt could be found bouncing all over the place, Pinchot stood steadfast in his belief that future generations should be able to enjoy the majesty of America’s wilderness. He believed that places like the Bitterroots and Yosemite could help heal the soul the way it had helped him. And he stood up when it made little sense to do so, just so we could enjoy and appreciate it. Though much of it is gone, we still have bits and pieces around the nation, and much of it is due to Gifford Pinchot. What a guy!

Well that about wraps up this post. I guess I could have just shortened it by saying that Theodore Roosevelt was a total kook, and we lost a bunch of trees in 1910. But where’s the fun in that?

Until next time! Keep that fire burning!

The Legacy of Saladin Part II

When we last saw Saladin, he was riding triumphant into the Holy City. He had defeated the Christian armies and liberated most of the cities and strongholds. MOST! Saladin was not a ruthless leader, and it takes a ruthless leader to snuff out an enemy. His compassion got the best of him, and he let thousands of would be prisoners walk free. He made them pinky promise that they wouldn't start anymore wars. The Christian knights were thankful, they made their promises of peace to this hippie, and skipped away to Tyre to join the rest of the Christians who were biding their time. In a sense, Saladin himself created the next stage of the Crusades. What would be worse? Should he have destroyed his enemies like any other leader would have? Or are we thankful to see a man with never before seen compassion towards the rest of his fellow man? It's a lose-lose, unfortunately. Each way leads to bloodshed. And I have a feeling Saladin knew this and was postponing the inevitable.

Saladin knew that his good fortune would have to run out sooner or later. He had done what he set out to do. Jerusalem no longer bowed down to the Christians, and the Muslim realm was more strongly connected than it had ever been before. Once again, a leader who could have threatened his power passed away. German emperor Frederick Barbosa was about to lead another Crusade to take back those lands the Latin Christians lost until he had a heart attack on the trip east. Then, out of the distant land of England, came a man who wanted so badly to be Saladin's match but never quite lived up to his adversary. Richard the Lionheart made his way to the Middle East, and with the help of the Italian fleet and the survivors in Tyre, began to slowly make their voices heard.

The most important city that the Christians were threatening was Acre, and the differences in approaches could not have been more different. Whereas Saladin quickly stormed through his opponents, offering them safe passage along with their possessions, Richard took to a siege of Acre that lasted nearly 2 years. Saladin could have done more to stop the siege and the famine that raged inside, but his heart didn't seem in it. He finally gave up the city. Richard marched in and slayed any man, woman and child who didn't worship the same god he did. He took a big Christian piss on all the generosities Saladin had shown.

With Acre down, Richard had his sights set upon some of the other cities his predecessors had lost. But he lacked the organization and the compelling qualities that drew people to Saladin. What followed was more a battle of the mind between Richard and Saladin. Richard began somewhat courting Saladin's brother, al-Adil. He flattered the brother and suggested meetings with Saladin. He whispered things in al-Adil's ear that might make al-Adil jealous of his brother. Richard wanted to cause a rift. Saladin, on his part, refused to meet with Richard because they were currently in open war. But Sly Saladin had a confidant of his own, the Marquis Conrad, who was a rival of Richard's. He also hit Richard with the biggest of all truths: even if Richard took back some land, the Muslims would wait. They lived here. This was their home. Eventually Richard would want to go home back to England, and when he did, Saladin and his followers would be there to take it all back. Talk about about a buzzkill!

By 1192, the Latin Christians held Jaffa and their old safeguard Tyre. Saladin ruled everything else. He set up his brother in Egypt, far away, just in case Richard did succeed in putting any silly ideas in his head. A new truce was signed. Saladin's words must have gotten to Richard for he went home without much to show for his time on Crusade. He was probably hurrying back to marry Maid Marian and Robin Hood! The next year, the unthinkable happened. Saladin passed away in his favorite city of Damascus, fragile and tired. An expected flurry of fighting broke out, but his brother al-Adil, brought the Egyptian-Syrian empire back together in 1202. Thereafter was another wonderful, brief period of peace. Then, al-Adil died and the sons of Saladin tore apart what their father had built. Most prominent of these sons was al-Kamil.

Al-Kamil ruled in Cairo, his brother al-Mu'azam in Damascus. The death of their uncle not only split up the hard earned territory, but it also emboldened the French. They had taken Damietta just as al-Adil had passed on, and al-Kamil, lacking the same convictions of his father, began bargaining away the lands they held. He offered up Jerusalem a number of times to the French who were extremely suspicious and turned it down. Then, a curious friendship was struck between al-Kamil and the King of Germany, Frederick II. The latter was known for his distaste for the western Christian world. He spoke Arabic, admired the Arabic architecture, and even enjoyed worshiping with the Muslims, though he himself did not seem to lean towards any sort of religion. The two men enjoyed a close friendship, talking about religion, science, and their personal zoos. Then al-Kamil got a great idea. He didn't trust his brother over in Damascus, and he didn't much care for all the hard work his father had put into uniting the Muslim people under one cause. He decided to offer his friend Frederick the Kingdom of Jerusalem as a buffer zone between he and his brother.

I think it is important at this point in the story to stop and marvel at a man like Frederick, who, like Saladin, lived in a way that was bizarre and uncouth compared to the social standards of the day. It is incredibly refreshing to know that then, just as there is today, there existed a group of people who refused to be dictated by religion or cultural and social expectations. When you look back at history, it is easy to lump people into categories, good and bad, right and wrong. But people were complex then. We're complex now. Frederick, surrounded by intolerant zealots, was not afraid to show his appreciation of the Muslim world. Saladin who was raised in violence allowed his softer heart to take control of his actions and spared many lives. It's good to know that good dudes are on both sides.

Al-kamil's plan backfired with the death of his brother, al-Mu'azam. Suddenly, the old empire was there for his taking, and he no longer needed that buffer zone. "But," Frederick complained, "I already told the Pope and everybody I was about to get Jerusalem! Don't make me look like a doofus!" Al-kamil knew that if the empire was to come back together, and he gave away Jerusalem to the Franks, he would be criticized and could perhaps entice civil war. So the two pals decided on a cunning compromise. They faked a battle, one that Frederick had won, and al-Kamil handed over Jerusalem. They thought that they could both save face with this little bit of trickery. So in 1229, the Christians returned to power in Jerusalem.

Jerusalem remained in Christian power for about fifteen years. It couldn't have held out for very long, cut off from the other Christian communities way over in the Byzantine and back in Tyre. Unfortunately for al-Kamil, the people saw through his farce and his rival from Damascus, al-Nasir, threatened to overthrow him. Al-Nasir was neutralized but he waited. In 1239, he retook Jerusalem in a surprise raid, and the Christians would never get it back. Not because of an inability or lack of trying. There loomed in the east the violent and unending seed of Ghengis Khan. The Mongols, who had successfully united many of the Turkish tribes, traveled into Syria and Egypt and laid waste to its cities. Jerusalem fell along with the others.

Crusades would continue after the loss of Jerusalem. After the Turks were converted, Muslims were everywhere. The European Christians continued to fight a losing battle. But there was never again a personality quite like Saladin, who in his love of humanity, united the people for a common goal under his selfless guidance. Saladin never cared for riches or power. He was a man who saw a need and knew he could provide that need. His name was called and he responded, not out of any earthly desire, but out of the knowledge that he was the best person. He could unite the Muslims and fight the Christians, and he could do it better than anyone else and with less bloodshed. I don't believe that Saladin ever desired his role but reluctantly accepted it, acknowledging his gifts and putting them at the feet of his God and of his people who shared that common burden of a foreign ruler. He accepted it with a grace that has not been seen since.

The Legacy of Saladin Part I

Can a historian believe in fate? Can we sift through the facts and come to the conclusion that something larger was at work? Surely it is frowned upon, for our job is to understand the truth, and relaying it. Every once and a while, however, a person or a situation seems as though it were ordained to happen. This can be seen in the life of Salad ed-Din Yusuf, or, better known as Saladin.

The greatness and goodness of Saladin is uncontested. His military prowess and his unconditional generosity are recounted by both European and Arabic historians. What is not as well-known are the circumstances that led to his elevation as the leader of the Muslim nation during the thick of the Crusades. How could a man with few connections and even fewer ambitions rise to the level of Sultan among the Arabic warriors be held in such high regard by the Frankish knights who wanted to decimate his empire? 

My first encounter with Saladin was many years ago when my friend Eric Bogan and I became increasingly interested in the Crusades. We learned of his greatness, and we highly respected him But he was only part of the picture in the puzzling saga of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Saladin and I became much more familiar in college during a course entitled “Christian-Muslim Encounters.” In this course, I had the privilege of reading Amin Maalouf’s The Crusades through Arab Eyes.  Just as the title suggests, Maalouf gives a detailed account of all our favorite stories of the Crusades, except without the religious fervor of the Latin Christians. And more importantly, it gives an intimate look at the life of Saladin and how he shaped the Middle East.

Saladin first pops up when he reluctantly follows his uncle to Egypt around 1163. The two came as a relief effort in the name of Nur al-Din, the ruler of Syria, because the King Almaric was obsessed with Egypt, and the French were thirsty for the Nile. The Egyptians did not have the power to stop it. Thus, the beginning of Saladin’s fate was sealed. When the skirmishes were over and the Christians were pushed back into the little pocket of the Middle East, Saladin found himself at the head of the one of the richest countries of the world. His uncle had passed away, and, since the country was rescued in the name of Nur al-Din, the former ruling family seemed inconsequential, though Saladin had grown close to them. 

This special relationship with the Caliphate al-Adid was a growing concern for Nur al-Din. Saladin was supposed to be supporting the latter, and the former Caliphate was a Shi’i Muslim, something that Nur al-Din had no patience for. Plus, the two were reportedly close and who knows what was going on all the way over in Egypt! So Nur al-Din demanded that his vassal condemn the Shi’i belief and the formal royal family. But Saladin had a soft heart and could not bear to hurt al-Adin in such a way. Once again, it seems fate stepped in, and the former Caliphate became very ill and passed away, just as Nur al-Din threatened to come to Egypt himself. Saladin, then ruler of Egypt, passed the formal condemnation of the religious sect without hurting anyone. But Nur al-Din had become a little too suspicious. Saladin had been afraid to face his master since he rose to power in Egypt. But before any confrontation could be arranged, Nur al-Din himself passed away, leaving as the ruler of Syria his 13 year old son. 

Saladin found himself at a crossroads. He could respect his former master and simply rule under his son and be content with his power in Egypt. But the Frankish knights were growing stronger. They still held Jerusalem, a city as religiously important to Muslims as it was to the Christians. Plus, the young boy who now “ruled” in Damascus would open many doors of suitors who craved power, and could very likely cause a large rift in the Muslim world. Saladin knew that their only chance to defeat the Christian knights was to band together. And he saw it as his responsibility to do just that. Under the pretext of tutoring Nur al-Din’s son, Saladin left Egypt and took Damascus but refused to raise a hand against Al Salih, son of his former master, and left Aleppo alone. Suddenly, Saladin was the ruler of an empire that connected Egypt to Syria. As if to further confirm his role in the world, the King of Jerusalem, Almaric, died right around this time. Saladin could only take it is a sign that this was his moment. The only person who could potentially do any damage to his empire was Emperor Manuel who sat alone and abandoned in Constantinople. Not long after Saladin left Egypt, Manuel himself died, leaving Saladin master of his own fate. 

Now Saladin was not simply a charismatic leader. He was a good and a religious person. He seemed to be constantly at odds with himself, wanting to live in peace and yet wanting to gain back the territories taken from the Muslim people. The late Almaric had been obsessed with taking Egypt, only to be thwarted by Saladin and his uncle. Now ruling Jerusalem was King Baldwin IV, a young teenager suffering from leprosy. This weakness did not go unnoticed to Saladin but he did not move. The king’s regent was a man who respected Saladin’s power, Raymond of Tripoli. Raymond’s respect of the Muslim ruler was matched only by Saladin’s benevolence towards the Christians. Neither seemed keen on bloodshed. They agreed on multiple truces and there existed for a brief time a relative peace in the Middle East. 

After the young Baldwin died of his afflictions, Raymond took over as ruler of Jerusalem. Again, he and Saladin tried to exist peacefully. Until, of course, the dreaded Reynald of Chatillon. These two men represent the different attitudes of the transposed Latin Christians. Raymond, and those who had come along on the first few Crusades, acknowledged the difficulties of living as an outsider surrounded by Muslims. They had come to appreciate the Muslim culture, how advanced it was in medicine and science, and were content with the land and strongholds that they had collected over the years. Reynald, however, represented the newer generation of Crusaders who had a hankerin’ for glory and land, and who thought that Muslims, no matter how scientifically advanced they were, were still infidels and should be eliminated. Again, Saladin kept an eye upon these two factions.

Reynald of Chatillon was a loose cannon. Hell-bent on razing the Muslim empire to the ground, he ignored the truces delicately put in place by Raymond and Saladin. His first offense was attacking a caravan of merchants. Saladin excused this and didn’t retaliate. Reynald was chastised, but not by Raymond. The Latin Christians grew increasingly suspicious of Raymond’s friendship with Saladin and chose instead as the king, Guy of Lusignan, an indecisive and easily persuaded man. It was not long before Reynald did the unthinkable: he attacked the holy city of Mecca. This was the last straw for Saladin. He had tried to live peacefully and had allowed the Christians under his rule pretty much alone. In fact, the most that he and Raymond, during their brief flirt with peace, had abused the opposing religions was to lay upon the believers a tax. But he could not let this go unanswered. They had broken too many promises. He began to tear through the countryside where he would earn the description, “magnanimous.”

His assault on the Christian kingdom is like nothing the world had seen, nor has seen in full since. At every site that fell under his rule, his character as a good and loving human flew much more visibly than his devotion to Islam. He allowed the Christians to walk away, unharmed, with their families and possessions intact. He did not allow the pillaging often associated with the medieval armies of that time. If the Christians did not wish to leave, like many of the Jacobites or Orthodox Christians from the east, which preferred Saladin to their Latin overseers, the mighty Sultan ordered that they be left alone. Even the Jews were safe under the protection of Saladin. He only shed blood when it was necessary. If the knights of a stronghold wouldn’t surrender straightaway, he would lay siege to the stronghold and he would fight his enemy. His prisoners were clothed and fed, much to the annoyance of his treasurers. It was never his goal to stamp out the Christian religion altogether. He wanted to regain what had been there’s before the westerners first showed up all the way back in 1099. He was even content to let them keep certain cities for themselves, a decision that would eventually come back to haunt him.

During these campaigns, Saladin and his old pal Raymond of Tripoli had struck up another agreement. In accordance of their truce, Saladin asked permission to pass through Raymond’s land in order to attack another site. Embarrassed but willing, Raymond said that Saladin could pass through as long as he left his people alone. He warned the citizens living within his boundaries to stay inside and that a Muslim army would be passing by. The Templars and Hospitallers caught wind of this agreement and rode hard to put a stop to it. They engaged Saladin’s force on Raymond’s land and were immediately crushed. But the bond between Raymond and Saladin was broken.

What followed was one of the most ingenious military moves the Crusades had seen. He tip-toed on over to Tiberias where the wife of the ashamed Raymond was living. Saladin set fire to the city but delayed on attacking the citadel where the woman was safely trapped. When the Frankish knights heard, they immediately gathered an army to finally crush Saladin. But they don’t call him Slippery Saladin for nothing! He set the trap cleverly. It was July in the desert and the Franks had many miles to travel. Saladin waited for them, perched on the edge of Lake Tiberias. He first had some of his riders go out and pester the Christian armies with arrows, just to slow them down. It worked! The next day, he sat fire to the orchards that stood before the army. This worked, too! Exhausted and literally dying of thirst, the Christians came to the village of Hittan. From there, they could see Lake Tiberias and all its shimmering glory. Between them, however, was a well-rested and juiced up army. BLAMMO! Reynald of Chatillon was beheaded, along with the majority of the Templars. Guy and many others were let go on their word that they would never take up arms against the Muslims again (they must have had their fingers crossed). 

After this crushing defeat, there was no real army to keep Saladin at bay. He had his eyes on the crown jewel: Jerusalem. Its defender, the noble Balian, had been spared from an earlier encounter with Saladin. He had given the sultan his word that he wouldn’t fight him anymore. And unlike most of the Christian knights, he intended to keep his word. But he couldn’t just give up Jerusalem. He met with Saladin and explained his predicament. Saladin understood and released him from his commitment. However, the siege of Jerusalem did not come to blows. In the end, both sides settled on a payment. A huge sum was paid for the ransom of the peoples of Jerusalem. And those who couldn’t afford to pay? Well, Saladin let them go anyway. That was just his style! The poor, the old, the widows and children, all were free to go without any sort of payment, again, to the chagrin of the treasurers. And on October 2, 1187, Saladin walked victorious through the gates of the Holy City.

But all of those prisoners he let go gathered in a little place called Tyre. And this would be the undoing of Saladin and his Muslim empire.

The Do Gooders Get Lucky

It was only a matter of time. You all knew I would stumble down this road. But I promise that I will stick to the facts. We won't go chasing any buried treasure or call up T. Hanx for his opinion (though that would be amazing, huh?). We are going to venture down the dark and murky tale of the Knights Templar.

What is it about the Knights Templar that intrigues people? Why did I buy this book by Piers Paul Read when I was 16 years old and had little interest in the Medieval World? I suppose it is all the fantasy and mystery that surrounds the story. But this isn't about fantasy. I'll get my share of fantasy when I go home and listen to Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince on audio book! No, here we care about the facts. And, surprisingly, at least to me, the facts are even more intriguing than the myth.

As I read about the Knights of the Temple, I try to keep an open mind and forget the things that Dan Brown and Orlando Bloom tried to teach me. Pop culture wants to emphasis the bad and the mysterious. But the genesis of the Order was founded in a desire to serve, to do good. When the Christian armies finally secured Jerusalem and the surrounding areas, the crusaders figured their jobs were done. They headed home with some pockets full of loot and all of their sins forgiven! Well, those who survived anyway. This left the new Christian kingdoms with a very big problem. As the fighting men emptied from the realm, hundreds and thousands of pilgrims and sight-seers were pouring in. Baldwin and the rulers had no way to protect these people from the Saracens who seemed to be just waiting in the shadows for a chance to pounce on the Christians.

It was Count Hugh who saw the solution. And it was revolutionary. The problem was that pilgrims were being attacked, so Hugh and his chums put their heads together in order to create a police force. But they didn't want an ungodly horde of knights roaming around where Jesus had walked. So they proposed a monastic-knighthood. Up to this there were Christian knights and even military orders with Christian knights in them. But no one had ever tried to impose the classic Benedictine monastic life on military men. The idea was magical. King Baldwin saw this police force as a necessity and backed it wholeheartedly. Hugh and his cronies traveled back to Europe to get some recruits. Not only were the officially recognized by the Pope, but he once again gave his papal stamp of forgiveness to anyone who joined. The monarchs and royalty of western Europe saw the Order of the Knights of the Temple as a wonderful undertaking and gave generously to the order. Plots of land, pockets of money, and young, strapping men were given up to the order, and through the order, to the Lord.

The young men couldn't have asked for a better deal. As the order grew in numbers, it grew in wealth. Men looking for adventure, wealth, glory, or even just a stable job. With all the land endowments, the Knights of the Temple became a better administrative entity than a military force. Previously the best job one could get was within the church, but now, with the order growing, you could get a variety of jobs and work your way up to Master. Sure there were the downsides to monastic life. No sex with women. . .I'm sure there were other downsides, too. But think about it: you're just sitting around at home when some big time knights come recruiting and offer you a gig thousands of miles away. Not only will you get paid (with some possible booty to claim), you get to fight the evil Saracens AND YOU ARE FORGIVEN OF ALL YOUR SINS!! Now, I'm probably beating a dead horse with this papal decree, but you have to appreciate the religious implications of this edict. For the first time since the death of Jesus, the Christian followers had a real and tangible act they could execute that absolved their sins forever. It's baffling. The closest thing they had before the Crusades was communion. Martyrdom was close, but it meant you had to die. That was kind of a bummer. But if you took the cross and joined the order, you were forgiven and cared for. It was a young man's dream (not that kind of dream, though. They were still quasi-monks!).

And so for the first time since the fall of Rome, an organized and disciplined military force was under the direct rule of one entity, with no wavering or faltering allegiances to other barons. United under the cross of Jesus Christ and disciplined in the Benedictine tradition, the Knights Templar were formidable to say the least. And if all this wasn't enough, in 1139 Pope Innocent II let this hammer fall: The Order of the Knights of the Temple answered to no one but the Pope. What?! Do you think Innocent realized what kind of monster he just guaranteed? Policing the holy neighborhoods was one thing. But the order was growing increasingly wealthy with all the gifts the loyal European Christians were handing over. And now they were guaranteed relatively absolute autonomy wherever they went. Innocent basically told the entire world that if the Knights of the Temple get out of hand, that's my problem, not yours. And as we shall see, they became quite a handful for Jerusalem, Europe, and eventually the Pope himself.

What lesson can we learn? You can have too much of a good thing, and if you do, you can probably rule the world! So go do some good, everybody!

Urban II and His Big Blooper

For a long time I have considered Pope Urban II one of the worst villains in history. Oh, sure his repertoire doesn't quite hold a candle up to Stalin, Hitler, or Cheney. And I'd like to think that his intentions were good (they weren't) in instigating the biggest religious bloopers you'll ever see. And by blooper I mean the horrendous, murderous, manipulative, not to mention mysterious on-going holy war known affectionately as The Crusades.

Most of you probably know the basics of the Crusades. Muslims had taken Jerusalem. Christians wanted it back. All hell broke out and many people died. Plus people love to bring them up when discussing religious hypocrisy! But I'll give you a little back story that will hopefully illuminate my hatred for Urban II and his Big Bad Blooper.

Around 1085, the Byzantine emperor Alexius Comnenus was in a pickle. He had watched the glorious eastern empire dwindle down to a very tiny kingdom. Those damn Seljuk Turks had caused some real trouble in the Arabic and Mediterranean world, and it was due to their insatiable thirst for plunder. Alexius couldn't afford to hold off the Turks because the eastern empire didn't have a real army. It was made up of mostly mercenaries (many of these ex-Vikings). But when the Turks took big chunks of Syria, they took away the main food source that fed those mercenaries. So, Alexius turned to the only people he could think of: The Pope, and his Holy Roman Empire.

This was probably a last resort for Alexius. There was some bad blood between the eastern and western Christianities. The westerners were envious of the riches and the glory that had once been theirs but had crossed the Adriatic into the Byzantine Empire. They also thought that the Greek Christianity was influenced too much by the eastern cultures. Plus, what's with all those icons?! What a bunch of weirdos! But they had an army. So Alexius struck the only chord he had in common with the west. He pleaded in the name of Christ, which connected them and should be put above their petty differences of dogma or doctrine. And, he may have played up the danger the Turks posed to the Holy Land in order to get somebody interested.

When Urban II got the message, he mulled it over carefully. To aid their western brothers would be the right thing to do. But why should he? And more importantly, how could he convince the Frankish knights and princes to buy into helping those weird eastern Christians? The second question was the answer to the first question. Since the formation of the Holy Roman Empire, the enemies of the Normans and the Franks had either been conquered or retired. The Viking age was at an end. The barbarians had assimilated into western culture. Now Urban had on his hands some restless knights who knew how to fight and kill and little more. They were starting to cause some domestic trouble since they had no other outlet for their violence. And in wondering what to do with the knights, Urban schemed up a scheme so schemious that it both succeeded and backfired.

Here was the plan: Urban was going to answer Alexius's distress call. He would ask his knights and princes to make the perilous journey across land and sea to the Holy Land because God had asked them to protect it from the blasphemous Saracens. As incentives, the Church vowed to protect his land and family, absolve his debts, exempt him from taxes, and one other thing. . .what was it? . . . oh yea! Forgive his sins!! So the Pope, the successor St. Peter, the head of the Church, who in part was trying to busy some of the unruly nobility, took it upon himself to say, "Go on this trip, fight some Muslims, and everything you've done wrong will be forgiven and your spot in heaven will be guaranteed." Well, Urban got his army, but from the wrong group of people. This forgiveness, paired with the promise of alleviated debt, caught fire among the poor, the farmers and tradesmen. Often called the People's Crusade, the pilgrimage was not what Urban had in mind.

The people were duped, to be sure. Urban's manipulative plan that wasn't even meant for them took the lower class by storm. They were baited by the promises of the Church and hooked into a religious zeal that took them on a brutal trek that left many people dead in their wake. To top it off, the pesky Frankish knights that he wanted out of town stayed put. What a tremendous blooper! The poor folks had little choice but to trust in what the Church told them. And they took Jesus's words at face value and dropped everything immediately to take part in the fight against evil. So along the way, they had to pillage and plunder in order to finance the 2,000 mile journey to the Promised Land. The Christians came upon some Jews, who to the uneducated poor Christian, were indistinguishable from the Muslims, and slaughtered whole communities, stealing their food and other goods. Jewish communities all throughout Germany were brutally put to the sword as the Crusaders crossed the empire. Finally, the main force led by Peter the Hermit arrived at Constantinople. They were ordered to wait for the rest of the pilgrims to arrive before meeting the Saracens in battle, but the forces got a little too restless. They were quickly defeated by a Turkish army and the People's Crusade ended on October 21, 1096.

It was this initial bloody blunder of Peter the Hermit and his dingaling followers that seemed to rouse the knights and the armies that Urban had originally tried to put together. Whether out of the same religious zeal or, in the case of the Normans, a taste of adventure and the possibility of land or crown, the men poured into the Byzantine Empire, though Alexius made sure the armies stayed outside of the city walls of Constantinople. He didn't want those unruly Frankish knights doing anything uncouth on his turf! And after a few skirmishes, held together by the papal legate Adhemar of Le Puy, the second wave of Crusaders took Antioch and soon after, Jerusalem. But the Turkish defeat had stirred the Muslim world. And after the plague took Adhemar, the internal competitions and strife began to eat away at the Christian army.

So you see, history fans. Urban II, like many religious figures, convinced his followers to die with a promise of everlasting life. Unlike his contemporaries, though, Urban sparked an international blood bath and took advantage of every god-fearing man, be it Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. Whether he intended this or not, we will probably never know. It doesn't even matter. We at History Books give Urban II the biggest thumbs down we can muster.

The Root of it All: How Christianity was "Touched" by Rome

The history of the Catholic Church is a weird and wild one. It's not something to be proud of when you look at it as a whole. From Constantine to the modern child-sex scandals, there are a lot of things to be ashamed of. But when you pick it apart, you can find the good strewn about with monks and saints and good people who did good things in the name of Christ. But that over-arching corruption and violence is probably why most churches today don't really bother teaching its congregations how things got started. Oh, sure we know about Jesus gathering up some fishermen, Paul and his miraculous turnaround (and later uptight letters), and Augustine and his prayer journals where he sweat over his insatiable sex-drive. But as I was reading the last couple of days, I was struck by an idea that Piers Paul Read brought up in his book The Templars. The idea of Roman Catholicism is taken for granted, but what we history students have to realize is that though this is the oldest form of organized Christianity, there existed Christ's message before it was integrated into Roman culture. What did that look like? How Roman did those early Christians make the religion?

When Christianity was born, it was within the Roman Empire. As it grew and blossomed, it took the shape of the well organized and disciplined bureaucracy upon which the Roman world was built. Jesus didn't say anything about bishops or popes or monasteries. But as the religion bumped into the culture, the Catholic Church began to take shape. And then came the fall. It wasn't sudden of course, but a gradual process of immigrants settling on the borders and barbarians looting the cities. Eventually the political government of Rome fell apart (if only to be transplanted in Constantinople), and it left a vacuum. Part of the lure for the barbaric tribes was the structure and organization of the empire. If someone didn't step up, chaos would reign and everyone would be in for it!

And just like that, there was the changing of the guard. Emperors like Constantine had offered gifts of land to the Church, making it extremely wealthy. So when the government dissipated, the clergy stepped in its place. Bishops took the place of senators. It was a nearly flawless exchange. The people needed order and the church had it ready. And suddenly the terms Roman and Christian were interchangeable. Thus rose the Roman Catholic Church, not as the religion but as the powerful, governing body. It is my belief that the motives were pure. People were in need. The Church was able to meet those needs. Once it discovered the power it held, thereafter came the corruption and disasters that we identify with that Medieval Christianity.

And before we close, we hear at History Books want to give a big ol' thank you to Benedict of Nursia.
Thanks, Benny!

It was Benedict who, in his Rule for monastic life, decided each monastery would be equipped with pen and parchment, and that it was their duty to not only copy the Bible but all the old Classics. The father of western monk-life gave us all the gift of ancient literature. Just think of all we could have potentially lost if Benedict didn't think conserving literature wasn't important.

Here's hoping we find our way out of the church and into the battle field soon!

The Biggest Beefsteak Of My Life: Where's the Context, Dude?

First of all, History Fans, let me apologize for the overly religious posts. But as many of you know, when you start digging far enough, you can't meet history without the taint of religion. For better or for worse, and I'm leaning towards the worse, the skills we take for granted like reading and writing were at one time almost solely channeled through the Christian Church. And church is where we must start.

When I was a child, one of my biggest gripes was waking up and going to church on Sunday morning. Church wasn't so bad, but waking up on a weekend was, to me, an atrocity. As I grew older and became more aware of the teachings of the church, my list of gripes grew much longer. But one thing has bothered me from both a student of history and a student of literature: the lack of historical context in the Bible.

Now, I know this is a slippery slope. I'm guessing the narrators and writers of all those books took for granted that we would be familiar with the Philistines and the land of Canaan. From the other side, imagine how many less people would go to church if the pastor had maps and genealogical time lines on his power point instead of bettering life lessons. Some publishing companies have tried to patch up the problem by providing a study bible that has maps and little tidbits of historical information, like what types of food the Israelites would eat.

As I was reading today, something came to light that I've probably always known but had never really grasped. There was, in fact, a world full of people outside of the accounts we have in the Old Testament. Growing up in the church, there didn't seem to be any need to know where in the history of the world these stories fell. But as an adolescent and now an adult, it becomes appallingly clear that no context of any sort was ever taught or provided by the institution of the church. My Christian university DID provide me with an Old Testament class my freshman year. But I was a freshman and it was at 8:00 in the morning so I mostly slept. Give me a break!

Anyway, my goal is not to throw a fit and wail about how poorly the Church is run (I've already been up and down that road). I just wanted to impress upon these readers how strange it is to read from an objective and scholarly point of view the things that were occurring in the bible within the scope of the wider world. In this case, I have been reading a little bit on the Templars. Now before you discard me as a Dan Brown conspiracy-theory-loving fool, at least take in the first few chapters that set up the history of the Templars before you write off it all of as embellished history.

The first thing that stood out was an outsider's perspective on why initially people had a problem with Jews. It wasn't an ethnic thing at all. It was a an exclusive group of people who saw themselves as not only set apart and superior but they were God's chosen people! No wonder people got frustrated with them! Now that's not an excuse for the tragedies that have befallen them over the thousands of years they've been persecuted, not to mention that whopper that popped up in the 20th century. But I think it's a fair assessment of why people took offense to the Jews. They set themselves apart and that drove people crazy.

But it wasn't just their exclusive religion that seemed like an invitation for hatred. They sat and continue to sit in a geographical hotbed of controversy. God promised Abraham some land, so they wandered on up and took some land. After some famines, they went to Egypt where they were subsequently enslaved. Moses got them out of that mess and took them back to the promised land. . .where people were living. So they conquered their one-time homeland and brought back their nation. Again, that's history. I don't feel any more sympathy towards the original Britons who got run over by the Anglos and Saxons than I do towards the Canaanites or whoever was living in Palestine at the time. It's their bizarre inner squabbles that lead right up to the time of Christ that are unbearable. During that time they were conquered by many different nations and every time they fought back and got their land back. Until the dreaded Roman Empire.

The Jewish relationship with the Roman Empire was extremely interesting and just as fragile. After a couple of rebellions and probably a whole lot of whining, Jews were giving some type of autonomy. While they were still under Roman rule, they could still operate relatively freely within the confines of their own boundaries and religion. But there were many who were dissatisfied with this relationship. Understandable. The story with every empire is unhappy countries and states who want their freedom. But I'm not sure there has been a ruling entity in history who tried to accommodate as much as the Roman Empire tried with the Jewish nation.

The emperor sent a handful of people over to Judea to try and watch over these unruly people. And let me clarify that by no means am I slamming the Jewish people or calling them names. But there were many factions within the Jewish faith that either could not get along or refused point blank to be ruled by a pagan leader. We might call them feisty and congratulate them for standing up for themselves. But the reality is that they knew they were God's chosen people and they'd rather fight and die than be ruled by pagans. This disposition would have disastrous consequences in the years to come. But for the meantime, the empire sent the wonderfully entertaining King Herod.

Herod, who was of Jewish faith but not nationality, was first governor of Galilee and later King of Judea (under the Roman thumb). At first, he was the most successful at hushing up the cranky Pharisees and other angry Jewish factions. He rebuilt Solomon's temple, which was one of the most incredible architectural achievements at the time. But Herod grew paranoid. And with good reason. His father and brother were both killed. He began suspecting everyone of conspiracies, from the Caesar down to his own sons. He killed his wife and a son in a bizarre maniac plot, and from there went down a violent road that led to his being remembered not as the peaceful architect but as complete maniac, which is what the Bible suggests.

After Herod's death, his heirs found that they did not have quite the strength or shrewdness that Herod possessed and therefore could not quell the rebellion that had been boiling underneath his reign. The Jews refused to pledge allegiance to the pagan Roman Empire and took to arms, taking a few strongholds that Herod himself had built. Emperor Nero had had enough. Without a middle man like Herod to soften the imperial blows, the Jews were left exposed. They fought fiercely when Titus showed up to take back Jerusalem and the surrounding cities that had rebelled. Every stronghold was taken except the magnificent temple. It held so well that eventually Titus set the temple on fire and burned every man, woman, and child who was left inside.

The burning of the temple happened decades before the rise of Jesus, and I'm just now learning about this. Maybe it was in the Bible and I just missed it. Or maybe I cheated in my Read-The-Bible-In-One-Year challenge and totally skipped whatever book talked about this particular atrocity. Why does this crime against the Jews interest me so much? Because I feel like it really sets the stage for the story of Jesus. The relationship between Rome and Israel was strained at best. After the burning of the temple, both sides resented the other even more, though the Jews probably had more of a reason to be angry. When you take into account what the Jewish nation went through, especially during that last rebellion, the promise of a king and deliverer could not be more enticing. The Romans had really done it this time. And as soon as their king and savior was born, they would throw off the the shackles of Roman oppression and finally live at peace. Rome, on the other hand, was fed up with all this squabbling down in Israel. From then on, they were going to treat these religious outbursts with indifference or with extreme brutality. Both reactions were important to the foundation of Jesus of Nazareth's new religion, but it was the latter that allowed Christianity to take hold.

When Jesus finally poked his head out in public and announced that he was the promised Messiah, you can imagine how disappointed the Jews were. "Really?" they must have thought. "We wanted a strong warrior who would fight our way out of the Empire and all we got was this pacifist lunatic." Or something close to that. Of course this wasn't the Messiah we were all looking for. Therefore he is a heretic and should be put to death. When brought up to Pontius Pilate, a governor for Rome, he famously said, "I wash my hands of this." I've heard a lot of condemnation of Pilate for his non-action. But I believe that those events that ended in the burning of the temple was the final straw for the Jews as well as for Rome. I really think their reaction, no matter how honorable the governor could have been, would be the same: figure it out for yourself.

 We all know the rest of the story. Jesus was crucified, came back to life, a new religion was born. But I thought the author's description of how Christianity was initially received was eerily perfect. Just as the outside word was annoyed with the Jewish faith for setting themselves apart, they were even more frustrated with the Christian faith. At least with the Jews, they only caused problems in their homeland. After Paul of Tarsus decided that anyone could be a Christian, people all over the map were causing problems and ready to be martyred for their beliefs. I just think it's very interesting that Christianity would start as a thorn in people's side, the same was Judaism began. And I think this is the beginning of Christians refusing to look into history and learn one god-damn thing.


************************************EDIT*****************************************

Boy, I whiffed on this one! The temple did not burn until 70 AD, decades AFTER Jesus Christ was crucified, which pretty much botches my theory above. However! I think you can make the same case with the two incidents swapped. Jesus arrives on scene, starts show-boating around, walking on water, throwing fits in the temple, and just being an all around menace. The Jews cause yet another uproar, appealing to Rome to condemn him. And Pilate washes his hands and says "Figure it out, you whiny diaper babies!" And so Jesus is crucified. And after all the squabbles over the years, and after The King of the Jews is put down, the Jewish zealots really cross the line and take the strong-holds. This time it is a military move. This time, it is personal. Rome throws the hammer down, burns down the temple, and decides that from now on, we're going to keep a closer eye on these religious nuts. And as Christianity rises, the empire tries to smother it because they are really sick of the Jewish people bothering them, and this new passion seems even worse.
Maybe? I'm probably just trying to save face after I got my events in the wrong order.
Shame on me, History Fans. I'm going to bury my nose in a book and try to learn a couple god-damn things!