21 February 2013

The Crusades and Historical Charity



Still working through this history of the Crusades, which I find to be fascinating. In general it is an incredible idea, and whatever one thinks today about the Crusaders or the ideology that launched such an endeavor, it is hard not to be a bit amazed and what was accomplished by a disparate group of Europeans.

A group of 20,000 or so, knights, princes, and peasants marched some 2,000 miles, laying siege to various Muslim outposts along the way, and eventually broke through the formidable gates of Jerusalem and laid claim to the city, holding it despite erratic support from the West for nearly 200 years. For some perspective, 200 years ago in American history James Madison was president and we were still fighting the British over this or that. In other words, it is a long time. Were their motives always pure? Nope. Were some greedy for gain? Yep. Was their senseless slaughter? Definitely. Do I wish for something like this to happen again? Hell no. But I think it is a fault of the imagination and a failure to acknowledge subjectivity in human experience to demonize a whole contingent of past humanity for failing to live up to present--and relatively new--ideals. Blaming the Crusaders for violence is like blaming them for being opposed to gay marriage. The idea is so modern, it is absurdly anachronistic to judge something that happened 1,000 years ago as if they operated by the same moral and social codes.

When Tolkien was having conversations with the impenitent C.S. Lewis about Christianity he told him that the Christian story would have immense appeal to the story-loving Lewis if it didn't carry the emotional/historical/doctrinal baggage that Christianity presents to someone reared in our culture. In other words, the story of God made man, his birth heralded by angels and swains alike, his monastic life, his temptation in the desert, his betrayal, crucifixion and resurrection would all seem wonderful to Lewis if they could be casually dismissed as mythology, but became considerably more complex when he was asked to not only appreciate the artistry and beauty of the story, but also to believe that it was true and to attach his faith to the G0d-man as his savior. 

While I don't want to conflate these two very different issues, I feel like something similar is at work in how we approach the Crusades. If they were simply a story we read in an adventure novel, the story of a great journey with heroes and villains and iconography and visionaries and deception and luck and bravery we would love to read of it. But there is something so grounded about the Crusades. We are not merely confronted with a great story (I use the term great broadly), but one that actually happened, one that in many ways is constitutive of the way we Westerners see ourselves. A similar story set in the Far East would likely not provoke as visceral of a reaction. The Crusades feel personal, somehow, and we have been trained from a young age to feel very guilty about them. And I carry that tendency as much as anyone. 

But reading the other day about the siege at Antioch it was hard to remember the way we have been trained to feel about the Holy Wars. The Crusader army had laid siege to the city and broken through the walls. They were unable to capture the citadel, backed up against a mountain and it remained in Muslim control. Immediately upon their breakthrough at Antioch the Crusader army was besieged itself by the Muslim army of al Afdal. The Crusaders found themselves vastly outnumbered and running low on supplies. Rather than wasting away behind the walls, they decided to attack. One morning, at the break of day, they did just that. In his account, Asbridge seems careful to be clear that most of the Crusaders were motivated by genuine piety, not lust or greed. And there, in the midst of the battle, priests moved among the troops chanting prayers and giving them encouragement. The Crusaders, bolstered by faith, routed the Muslim army who was unprepared for their sudden attack. They returned to Antioch and were free to press on toward Jerusalem.

There is something about that image--the priest moving among the tumult of battle, chanting and praying--that despite the fact I find it theologically ridiculous, is entirely romantic to me. And if it were simply a story in a book I would love it. But understanding that the Crusaders weren't simply barbarians and that many were motivated by genuinely held religious feeling and that they were products of their culture doesn't mean that what they did was not often objectively wrong. Subjectively justifiable decisions can still be objectively wrong. I am not here trying to make the Crusades sound hunky-dory or not that big of a deal. I do think, though, that they are different than we are commonly led to believe--more complicated--and that our distance from this time ought to give us pause before blithely passing judgment.

The culture that spawned the Crusades and sustained them for 200 years might not bear much resemblance to our own, but they operated by a different set of values, not without values. We can rightly condemn the actions of much of the wars as incompatible with the teachings of Christ, but I am hesitant to condemn the values underlying the wars: bravery, faith, and the willingness to fight for what is important.

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