The 
King of Jerusalem stood captive in front of
the Sultan.
Next to him, the Lord of Kerak balked in the
sweltering July heat.
Earlier that day, a mighty Christian army
had been utterly destroyed by the arrows of
the Muslims, as much as they were by the decaying
rays of an Eastern sun.
The Sultan -- renowned for his generosity
and kindness toward his enemies -- presented
the King of Jerusalem with a most precious
gift, at least in that moment: a beading cup
of ice-cold water, covered in mountain snow.
The King accepted the cup and drank from it,
then offered it to the Lord of Kerak.
But the Sultan spoke to the King, pointing
out that he alone had been given water.
What did he mean by that remark?
The Sultan’s name was Yusuf Ibn-Ayyub, now
immortal in history as Salah ad-Din, or Saladin:
the Righteousness of the Faith.
Saladin has been celebrated in history as
one of the great political and military leaders
of the Middle East, revered by Muslims and
Christians alike for his strategic acumen,
fair rule and generosity towards friends and
foes.
But no man is an island, and even those who
rise from nothing owe a debt to their teachers.
Saladin relied on two exceptional mentors.
The Two Mentors
Before he became Saladin, Yusuf Ibn-Ayyub
was born in 1137, in the castle of Tikrit,
north of Baghdad.
His father Ayyub was a Kurdish soldier and
administrator who was employed by the Seljuk
Turks, as many Kurds were, for his superb
cavalry skills.
At the time, the Seljuks occupied most of
modern-day Iran, Iraq, and parts of the Middle
East.
Their dominion had brought some cohesion to
the Muslim communities after a period of disunity
had contributed to their defeat in the first
Crusade of 1095-1099.
When Yusuf was born, three Christian states
were thriving in the Levant: the Kingdom of
Jerusalem, the Principality of Antioch and
the County of Tripoli – no relation to the
Libyan capital!
The Muslim states and religious sects had
been mainly preoccupied with fighting amongst
themselves, rather than the invading Christians,
but that was about to change.
In 1146, Ayyub’s boss died.
His name was Zengi, and he was a Syrian-based
regional governor for the Seljuks.
It was Zengi’s conquest of Edessa, a Crusader
city state, that had sparked the Second Crusade,
a major Muslim victory.
His son and successor, Nur ad-Din, had even
higher ambitions.
Why report to the Seljuk caliph in Baghdad
when you can start your own dynasty?
Nur ad-Din would become one of Yusuf’s mentors,
and later, an adversary.
Nur ad-Din was also one of the first Muslim
rulers to give the Jihad an intellectual and
militaristic energy.
In other words: he started to campaign for
a united Muslim front to drive away the Christians,
or “Franks,” from the Holy Land.
Nur ad-Din occupied Damascus, making it the
seat of his power.
The great Syrian city became the capital of
his new dynasty, the Zengids, as well as a
centre for religious studies and propaganda
calling for a jihad against the Franks.
In his teens, Yusuf moved to Damascus, as
an assistant to his second mentor: his uncle
Shirkuh.
Shirkuh was a trusted general of Nur ad-Din,
a born warrior, a tough guy with a voracious
appetite, a huge belly, and a blind eye.
It was in this environment that Yusuf spent
his formative years, learning the art of military
and political leadership from his two mentors.
In the early 1160s, Nur ad-Din and Shirkuh
turned their eyes – all three of them - to
Egypt.
This wealthy and fertile land was ruled by
a Shi’a dynasty, the Fatimids, and their
power was vacillating.
It was a great opportunity for the rulers
in Damascus to expand their territory and
get hold of Egyptian riches, before the Franks
in Jerusalem did the same.
Shirkuh was the right man for the job – and
he delivered!
With Saladin as a trusted second in command,
the General took control of Egypt in the summer
of 1169, becoming its Vizier – or minister
– on behalf of Nur ad-Din.
Surely Shirkuh had reasons to celebrate, but
he probably partied a bit too much: two months
after the conquest, the voracious General
died, apparently due to indigestion from excessive
eating.
This tragedy had a silver lining for Yusuf;
his uncle’s death meant that he could succeed
him as Vizier.
On paper, he was likely to fail -- he was
an outsider, a Sunni Kurd at the service of
a Sunni Turk, administering a land of Shi’a
Arabs, with no real bureaucratic experience
to speak of.
In spite of all this, Saladin thrived in his
new job.
The key to Saladin’s success was that he
surrounded himself with the right people.
He started by appointing family members to
key advisory or protection positions around
him, in order to make sure that he had an
inner circle of loyal advisors.
His own father became Egypt’s chief treasurer!
But Saladin also appointed complete outsiders
based on their merits, and regardless of their
ethnicity or religious affiliation.
With the help of his council, he succeeded
in boosting Egypt’s economy, increasing
his personal power and prestige.
Slowly but surely, Saladin was following Nur
ad-Din’s example by founding his own dynasty,
the Ayyubids.
Nur ad-Din realised what was happening and
summoned him repeatedly to Damascus.
This is when Yusuf demonstrated yet another
key talent: procrastination.
Fearing some sort of punishment for his increasing
independence from Damascus, Yusuf delayed
meeting with his boss as long as possible.
By 1174 Nur ad-Din had had enough: he was
going to travel to Egypt to meet his employee.
Oh, and he would bring along an army on the
side, because you never know how those end-of-year
reviews will turn out.
But Yusuf was not only a skilled man... he
was also a lucky man.
And just before the start of the new campaign,
Nur ad-Din died of natural causes.
Saladin, who had previously served as the
mere vizier of Egypt, could suddenly seek
a more prominent job title.
Sultan of Egypt and Syria
Before the calendars could flip to 1175, Saladin
had captured Damascus and was formally recognised
by his nominal boss, the caliph of Baghdad,
as the Sultan of Egypt and Syria.
In the late 1170s and early 1180s, Saladin
expanded and consolidated his power by both
military and diplomatic means.
His Ayyubid dynasty became a reality.
Saladin fought and defeated several rebellious
local leaders who did not view him as Nur
ad-Din’s true successor, with the toughest
cookie being Nur ad-Din’s son.
Saladin laid siege to Aleppo and defeated
him in 1183.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
If richness was measured in headaches and
thorns in your side, Saladin may have been
the wealthiest man in the world.
As a Sunni leader, Saladin had to contend
with the stubborn resistance from Shi’a
factions in his new territories, which took
the form of assassination attempts from, well
… the Assassins – or more correctly: the
Fedayn of the Nizari Shi’a sect.
(By the way, we have a video of their founder
Hasan Sabbah, check it out, it’s great!)
Saladin also had to keep at bay the Seljuk
Turks, his former overlords from whom he had
broken away.
In a diplomatic masterstroke, the Sultan signed
a defensive treaty with the Byzantine Empire
against the Turks, which allowed him to concentrate
on other matters.
One of these matters was finding a suitable
wife, which is rarely a benign decision for
a Monarch.
Yusuf married a noblewoman called Ismat … who
happened to be Nur ad-Din’s widow!
I am sure these two loved each other to bits,
but it’s undeniable that the match was extremely
convenient for Saladin.
Ismat was also the daughter of a previous
governor of Damascus, so this move ensured
that Saladin be associated with two ruling
dynasties, enhancing his prestige.
Saladin also had another matter pressing at
him: what should he do about the Christian
Kingdoms?
He had continued Nur ad-Din’s efforts to
rally the Sunni community around the common
goal of chasing the Christians away from the
Levant -- especially from Jerusalem, one of
the holiest cities in Muslim worship.
Until that point, the idea of a holy war against
the West had served as a handy prop to unify
his dominions.
Now, it was time
to deliver.
The Leper King
Back in 1174, Jerusalem’s King Amalric had
died and was succeeded by his son, Baldwin
IV. Baldwin was a frail, inexperienced teenager,
sadly afflicted by leprosy.
The boy became known as ‘the Leper King,’
and his perceived lack of leadership led everybody
in the Levant to underestimate him.
By November 1177, Saladin thought that the
time was ripe to pluck Jerusalem from Baldwin’s
sickly hands.
He assembled an army of 27,000 men and moved
north from Egypt, confident in an easy victory.
But Saladin had underestimated his enemy.
Baldwin gave command of an army to French
nobleman Raynald de Chatillon, an experienced
military leader.
Then, the two led a small force to Ascalon,
south of Jerusalem, to intercept Saladin’s
march.
The Egyptian army encircled the Christians
but did not engage with them.
Saladin gave orders instead to march further
north and loot three villages before reaching
Jerusalem.
For a renowned General, Saladin had made two
huge tactical mistakes.
First, he had failed to engage when he was
in a position of strength; he had also allowed
his larger army to disperse in enemy territory.
Raynald and Baldwin escaped the encirclement
and raced northwards.
The Christians attacked at Mont Gisard, near
Ramla, on the 25th of November.
Saladin’s numerical advantage had been neutralized,
as much of his forces were still dispersed
and his elite cavalry was exhausted from the
long trek from Egypt.
The Christian knights charged the centre of
Saladin’s formation.
They were spearheaded by 80 Templars, one
of whom was the Bishop of Bethlehem, carrying
a piece of the true cross.
The victory was total: Saladin’s centre
crumbled under the charge, while Raynald’s
men seized the supply train of the Egyptians.
Saladin narrowly escaped capture by riding
on a racing camel.
This defeat had taught a harsh lesson to the
Sultan.
Saladin would now focus on further strengthening
his Sultanate and his army before attempting
conquest again.
In the meantime, the Franks had grown in confidence,
and Baldwin went on to provoke Saladin by
building a castle at Jacob’s Ford, within
reach of Damascus.
From there, the Christian knights could easily
launch raids against the Syrian capital.
Saladin was fighting rebels in northern Syria
and could not attack when the castle fortifications
were still weak.
He tried to bribe Baldwin, offering 100,000
Dinars if he abandoned the construction project.
But the teenage king refused the offer, and
by April, his castle had opened for business.
Now, Saladin needed a victory to restore his
credibility after Mont Gisard.
After quelling the rebellion in the North,
he assembled his forces and launched a siege
on the August 24th, 1178.
Saladin knew that he had to act quickly -- he
had received news that Baldwin was leading
a relief Army towards the castle.
The Sultan ordered for the walls to be targeted
by a constant deluge of arrows, to weaken
the Frank garrison.
At the same time, a contingent of expert Syrian
miners had started to sap the walls of the
North Eastern corner.
This concentrated action rapidly dug deep
pits under the ramparts, which were then set
on fire.
The mighty, ten-metre walls were weakened
by the heat and finally collapsed.
The Ayyubid army poured through the breach
and massacred 800 of the defenders.
Saladin also captured 700 prisoners and tons
of loot, including 1000 suits of armour.
The castle had fallen after only five days.
In 1180 Saladin and Baldwin IV agreed to a
truce, whereby the Crusader Kingdoms and the
Ayyubid territories would coexist in peace
for two years.
But that truce would never be carried out.
Raynald de Chatillon, Baldwin’s European
ally, ruled over two powerful strongholds,
the Kerak and Montreal, both in modern-day
Jordan.
Their location gave him control over routes
used by Muslim traders and pilgrims going
to Mecca.
In the summer of 1181, Chatillon plundered
one of these caravans.
Saladin asked for the loot to be returned,
but the arrogant Lord refused, causing hostilities
to resume both on land and at sea.
Raynald launched a fleet of five galleys in
the Red Sea, attacking merchant ships, raiding
Muslim ports, and even threatening Mecca.
Saladin’s own Egyptian fleet destroyed the
raiders, but the Sultan was not as successful
on land.
He attempted to seize the Kerak twice, in
1183 and 1184, and twice the Leper King came
to the rescue of Raynald.
The following year, the young, sickly King
died childless, leaving his throne to his
eight-year old nephew, Baldwin V. The boy’s
tutor – the Count of Tripoli - negotiated
another truce with Saladin.
It was a wise move, because the leadership
in Jerusalem was about to become messy.
One year later, in 1186 the boy-king Baldwin
V died, as did his father.
The mother, Sybilla, remarried a French nobleman,
a guy named, well, Guy of Lusignan.
And here, Chatillon enters the picture again,
as he ensured that Guy be named King-Regent
of Jerusalem.
Next, the untameable Raynald did what he was
best at: breaking truces and raiding Muslim
caravans.
But the one he plundered in 1186 was not just
any caravan.
According to some contemporary sources, Saladin’s
sister was travelling in it, although this
claim is disputed.
In any case, it was yet another provocation.
King Guy asked Raynald to return the loot
and the prisoners to Saladin, but the stubborn
Lord refused.
Up to that point, Saladin had taken advantage
of the truces with the Christians to complete
his conquest of Mosul, modern day Iraq, from
a rival Sunni leader.
With Mosul under his control, the Sultan has
completed the consolidation of his reign,
enveloping Jerusalem, Tripoli and Antioch.
Now, the Sultan was ready to launch an all-out
attack on the Franks.
He would not allow this last provocation to
go unpunished.
Lions into Hedgehogs
The
Sultan of Egypt and Syria was ready for his
greatest feat yet: it was time to reclaim
Jerusalem.
His eldest son al-Afdal quickly recruited
24,000 troops, and in the summer of 1187,
Saladin made his first move, the siege of
Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee.
It was a trap, to lure the Christian armies
into the rough hills of Galilee, under an
unforgiving sun.
The wife of Frank general Count Raymond of
Tripoli, was stuck in the besieged citadel
of Tiberias.
Saladin may have exploited this factor to
further provoke the Franks.
Guy of Lusignan did not to respond to the
provocation.
But his councillors, including Chatillon and
the Knights Templar, insisted he act, lest
he lose his fragile grip on the throne.
So at the behest of his European allies, Guy
set 1,300 knights and 18,000 soldiers on a
trek of 32 kilometers from Jerusalem to Tiberias.
An endless march, under the ruthless July
sun of the Levant, across an arid plateau,
with all water supplies cut from them by the
Ayyubids.
Guy had fallen into Saladin’s trap.
The journey to Tiberias was a living nightmare
for the Franks.
Saladin’s mounted archers targeted them
with a constant rain of arrows.
According to contemporary writer Imad ad-Din
“the arrows plunged into them, transforming
their lions into hedgehogs”
By the 3rd of July, the Frank army had set
up a camp for the night near the village of
Hattin and got some respite.
It was short-lived.
On the morning of the 4th, Saladin had ordered
his men to set fire to the surrounding grass
and brush, choking the Christians and making
their thirst even worse.
As a further rain of arrows descended upon
them, the Christian infantry scattered out
of formation.
The Templar and Hospitaller knights tried
two consecutive, desperate charges against
the Ayyubid centre, in a repeat of Mont Gisard,
but Saladin was ready and had his own riders
encircle and massacre the Crusaders.
By the end of the Battle of Hattin, the mighty
Christian army had been crushed.
Thousands lay dead.
Many more were captured and sold into slavery.
The Templars and Knights Hospitallers who
had been so unlucky to fall prisoners to the
Ayyubids were beheaded, one after the other,
in a relentless display of butchery.
The Holiest of the relics, the True Cross,
had fallen into the Muslim’s hands.
It was after Hattin that Saladin met with
the commanders of the Franks, Guy of Lusignan,
and the despised Raynald of Chatillon.
Saladin offered a cup of ice water to Guy,
who then passed it on to Raynald.
Saladin turned to the King and spoke:
"This damned man did not drink water with
my permission.
If it had been so he would be safe."
This was a clear threat: if the Sultan had
offered the water directly to Raynald, the
Lord of Kerak would have been under his protection,
according to the customs of hospitality.
But this was not the case.
Instead, Saladin rose, unsheathed his sword,
and cut off Chatillon’s head.
The Sultan then reassured Lusignan:
“It is not the wont of Kings to kill Kings.
But that man had transgressed all bounds.”
In an act of chivalric generosity, which many
described as typical of the Sultan, Saladin
freed Guy, on one condition: to promise he
would never again take up arms against the
Muslims.
The news of the defeat soon reached Western
Europe.
The True Cross had been lost, the Frank army
was decimated, and Jerusalem was now vulnerable.
Saladin moved on to besiege the Holy City,
which would be defended by the French nobleman
Balian of Ibelin.
You may recognise this Ibelin from the Ridley
Scott film ‘Kingdom of Heaven’.
Balian had fought at Hattin and had escaped
captivity by promising to Saladin that he
would quit fighting the Muslims for good.
After the battle, Balian had travelled to
Jerusalem to reunite with his wife.
As soon as he reached his destination, Queen
Sybilla asked him to lead the defence of the
city, which he reluctantly agreed to.
As Saladin’s army approached Jerusalem,
Balian sent him an envoy, informing him that
he would break his earlier promise and resume
the fight against the Muslims.
The Sultan was furious.
On the September 20, 1187, the Egyptian and
Syrian army camped in sight of the city walls.
In spite of his anger, the Sultan tried to
find a diplomatic resolution.
The talks were fruitless, and a siege ensued.
Throughout September, Balian was able to repel
the Sultan’s attempts to storm the city
walls, or tear them down with mangonels and
catapults.
It was only at the end of the month that Saladin
applied his experience from Jacob’s Ford:
his sappers weakened a section of the walls
near the Mount of Olives, which collapsed
on the 29th of September.
Even still, the Ayyubid army could not force
their way through the breach, which allowed
for further talks and a peaceful transition
for the City.
Balian negotiated for 7,000 citizens NOT to
be sold into slavery, against a ransom of
30,000 bezants.
The ‘bezants’ were gold coins minted in
Byzantium, commonly used in the Levant.
Saladin agreed, and in an act of generosity,
later persuaded his officers to free without
ransom most of their captives.
The remaining Western inhabitants left Jerusalem,
while the Eastern Christians were permitted
to remain.
Saladin had all churches converted into mosques,
except for the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
All Christian pilgrims would be granted safe
passage from then on, a decision which should
have prevented further conflict with the European
kingdoms.
Saladin had won Jerusalem back for his kingdom,
and he had done so with minimal Christian
bloodshed.
His conflict with the Europeans should have
ended there.
Unfortunately, his plan of peace didn’t
quite work.
After hearing of the capture of Jerusalem,
Pope Gregory III allegedly was so shocked
that he died of a heart attack.
He had just enough breath left in his lungs
to call for a Holy War.
Saladin and the Lionheart
At the time of Saladin’s great Jerusalem
conquest, there were three great monarchs
on the European continent: Frederick I of
the Holy Roman Empire, known as Barbarossa;
Philip II Augustus of France; and the English
King, Richard I, the ‘Lionheart’.
All three rallied around the new Pope, Clement
III, and raised a new, collective Crusader
army.
Together, they undertook the Third Crusade.
On his way to the Holy Land, Barbarossa was
stalled by the Byzantine Empire, still tied
to Saladin by their previous alliance.
Frederick pressed on, reaching Cilicia, in
Southern Anatolia.
He was within reach of Syria, but on the 10th
of June, 1190, the Emperor drowned while crossing
a river.
Ironically, he had taken the land route due
to his fear of drowning in the sea!
His army, the strongest of the Crusader forces,
scattered and returned to Germany.
Exactly one year later, Philip and Richard
finally arrived in the Levant and took part
in the major battle against Saladin’s forces:
the siege of Acre, a major Ayyubid garrison.
Thanks to Guy of Lusignan, the city had been
under siege since August of 1189, but he soon
found himself surrounded by more Ayyubid troops
… a siege within a siege!
Richard the Lionheart soon proved to be a
perfect match for Saladin’s military skills.
He could bring to the table a sound strategic
mind, effective siege engines … and tons
of cash!
On his way to Acre, Richard had conquered
Cyprus from the Byzantines and then sold it
to the Templars; this sweet real estate deal
allowed him to pay for additional sappers
that brought down Acre’s walls.
The city was captured on July 12th, alongside
the bulk of Saladin’s navy.
Richard offered to return more than 2000 prisoners
to Saladin for a ransom, but the Sultan’s
drawn out negotiations exasperated the English
king, leading to their mass execution.
Soon, Philip II had to abandon the Crusade,
to deal with threats to his throne back home.
Richard was now in numerical inferiority against
the Ayyubids, but the campaign would still
benefit from a more unified leadership structure.
On the other side of the battle, Saladin seemed
to have lost his touch.
Maybe the Sultan and General, as well as his
armies, were simply exhausted after years
of incessant campaigning against Christian
Kingdoms and Muslim rebels.
It has been speculated that Saladin had been
ill for several years, as he began to show
symptoms compatible with those of irritable
bowel syndrome, or IBS.
Whatever the reasons for this decline, he
could not stop the march of the Crusader King
from Acre down to Jerusalem.
Saladin tried to replicate the success of
Hattin: first by harassing Richard’s column
with hordes of mounted archers, then by engaging
in a pitch battle at Arsuf on September 7,
1191.
But Richard was not Lusignan.
He had ensured one flank of his army was protected
by the coast line, avoiding encirclement,
and he understood the concept of logistics,
meaning his soldiers were unlikely to die
of thirst.
Saladin did not suffer heavy losses, but the
stalemate forced him to withdraw.
Richard’s army then took Jaffa, where they
rested until January 1192.
The Lionheart was within reach of Jerusalem
by now, but he hesitated to attack.
He believed he could take the city, but he
was certain his army could not sustain a counterattack.
The Crusaders basically did nothing for six
months, as did Saladin -- another sign of
his waning decisiveness.
Only in July did Saladin reconquer Jaffa,
but lost it again to the Lionheart in August.
This would be the last time the two leaders
would face each other in battle.
And when I say ‘face each other’ I do
not mean it literally.
A number of legends and popular novels depicted
Saladin and Richard as best ‘frenemies’,
who remained respectful of each other while
engaging in battles and even personal duels.
In fact, the two never met in person.
Even after Jaffa, when the two sides engaged
in lengthy negotiations, these were always
carried out by envoys.
Richard did develop a liking for Saladin at
a distance, and it is mainly thanks to him
that Europeans learned to appreciate the Sultan
as a fair ruler and combatant, embodying the
ideals of perfect chivalry.
Richard even considered having his sister
Joanna engaged to Saladin’s brother!
The results of the negotiations were not a
marriage, but a peace deal that was agreeable
to both sides.
Richard had fallen ill, and was itching to
return to England, where his brother John
was conspiring with Philip of France to strip
him of his lands.
Saladin was only too eager to get rid of the
Lionheart and gave important concessions:
the Crusaders would retain a strip of land
around Acre, and he would ensure safe passage
for all Christian pilgrims going to Jerusalem.
In their last exchange of letters, Richard
wrote to Saladin that sooner or later, he
would return and conquer the Holy Land for
good.
The Sultan replied, accepting the challenge
and writing that if he had to lose his Empire
to another King, he could not think of a better
one.
Legacy
The Third Crusade was over by October 1192.
Richard had scored a number of tactical victories,
but in the end, Saladin had the upper hand,
strategically speaking: his Sultanate was
still in tact.
Would Saladin have ever expanded his territory
beyond its boundaries at the end of the third
crusade?
We don’t know, as Yusuf ibn-Ayyub died five
months later, on the March 4, 1193.
The causes were natural, but remain unclear.
Perhaps it was due to sheer exhaustion from
constant warfare.
The coalition he had built quickly disintegrated,
as three of Saladin’s sons took control
of Egypt, Damascus and Aleppo, respectively,
while other relatives and subordinates squabbled
for the remainders.
The Ayyubid dynasty ruled until 1260, when
it was overthrown by an emerging power in
Egypt: the Mamluks.
Despite spending most of his time fighting
fellow Muslims instead of Christians, Saladin
is remembered in modern times as the great
adversary of the Crusaders.
He was a valiant, fair, and generous military
leader -- one who did not shy away from bloodshed
or even prisoner execution, but whose conduct
in Jerusalem was nonetheless exemplary.
In spite of the occasional tactical blunder,
Saladin eventually achieved all of his strategic
goals.
His Empire may have crumbled in a span of
a few decades, but this may have ultimately
been his life’s major achievement: to be
remembered as hero both by Islam and Christianity.
