In
kingdoms without borders, negotiations often had more to do with people
than places. A short look at the usually forgotten component of captives in peace settlements in the era of the crusades.
War
in Western Europe in the era of the crusades was largely about control
of cities and castles. These were the assets that generated income on
the one hand and enabled power projection on the other. While the
garrisons and inhabitants of castles and cities might be killed during a
siege or an assault, there are very few instances where entire
populations were displaced. Negotiations for surrender were usually
about accepting the sovereignty (doing homage and paying taxes) to the
victor, not about avoiding slaughter. Certainly, the defeated in the
intra-Christian wars of the High Middle Ages never faced the prospect of
slavery because the enslavement of fellow Christians was condemned by
the Church and largely disappeared by the end of the ninth century,
certainly by the eleventh.
In
the Middle East, in contrast, both Arab and Turkish societies were
built on slavery. The economy could not function without slaves, and nor
could their military because slave-soldiers were an indispensable
component of their armies. Slaves made up the most reliable and elite
units. These were composed of slaves, captured or purchased as children,
and raised to fanatical loyalty while developing military skills to the
highest standards. In short, neither the Arab nor the Turkish states of
this period could function without slaves. Furthermore, the
"consumption" of slaves was enormous, leading to a voracious, indeed
apparently insatiable, demand for slaves. To the shame of the Italian
commercial states, these played a key role in supplying the Middle
Eastern slave markets with human beings captured in the pagan north.
Yet, while this market was lucrative, it was not the main source of
slaves to the Muslim world. Conquest was.
To
be sure, the custom of enslaving the vanquished is as old as the Iliad.
The custom had, however, died out in the West under the influence of
Christianity. Islam, in contrast, raised the custom to a new heights
because it was sanctified by Mohammed's treatment of his enemies and
enshrined in the Quran (3:106) that clothed the enslavement of
non-Muslim peoples in righteousness and religious justification. Indeed,
there is ample
evidence that many raids were instigated not to conquer or destroy the
economic base of the enemy, but simply to take captives. "During the
eighth, ninth and tenth centuries, such razzias depopulated Sardinia,
Sicily, the coasts of Italy and southern France, and in the eastern
Mediterranean, the Cyclades, the regions of Athos, Euboea and along the
Greek coast."(1)
By
the era of the crusades, such large-scale raiding was a thing of the
past, but the practice remained at the local level. What this meant in
practice is that throughout the crusades era, the Franks and their
Orthodox Christian allies faced slavery every time they were taken
captive whether in battle, a siege, or a raid. The highest noblemen were
the only exception. They could expect to be held for ransom rather than
sold into slavery, and it is their fate about which we hear the most.
Yet they were the exception and the tip of the iceberg. For every
nobleman held captive for ransom there were scores of knights, hundreds
of turcopoles and sergeants, and thousands of peasants, women and
children. The latter particularly were often the victims of small-scale
raiding, a nearly perpetual phenomenon in this period. The victims of it
were the rural population, a class unable to pay ransoms and so
rarely given that option.
As
a result, at any one time, thousands of Christians, former subjects of
the Frankish kings and princes, were held in captivity by Muslim enemies
of the Franks. Some of these were Frankish settlers; more of them were
native Christians.
Surprisingly, they were not forgotten.
On the
contrary, in truce after truce, the Franks remembered their captive
subjects. The return of captives -- not just noble or knightly captives
-- was a component part of negotiations with the enemy. There are
recorded incidents when the Franks leveraged a Muslim desire for peace
to secure the release of thousands of captives.(2) In one instance -- viewed as an example of Frankish "arrogance" -- the Arab chronicler Ibn al-Athir records:
The Franks sent to review those male and female slaves of their people who had been taken from all the Christian lands, and bade them choose whether they would stay with their lords or return to their homelands. Anyone who preferred to stay was left, and anyone who wanted to go home went there.
This
explicitly refers to women, highlighting the fact that such agreements
were not confined to the release of fighting men. Furthermore, this
particular agreement was extremely comprehensive as it applied to the
entire city of Damascus. Again, thousands of captives must have
benefited from the negotiated settlement.
Yet
such agreements were only possible if the Franks were negotiating from strength. As a result, many captives
languished for years in slavery, before a change in fortune enabled the
Franks to extract concessions from their opponents. The fact that some
captives waited a long time for release does not diminish their
importance. On the contrary, the fact that even after years, relatives,
friends and comrades were determined to obtain the release of those they
loved while Frankish negotiators -- always members of the Frankish
elite -- recognized and respected this is to the credit of the Franks.
Too
many historians appear to overlook the importance of the return of
captives when condemning Richard the Lionheart's actions at Acre. The
Lyon Continuation of William of Tyre notes explicitly that when Saladin
reneged on his agreement to meet the terms of the surrender agreement
for Acre,
"there was great sorrow among the Christians; many tears were shed that day, and all the men of the host were greatly troubled. When King Richard saw the people weeping and lamenting... he had great pity on them and wanted to calm those in such great distress."(3)
People were hardly weeping because Richard and Philip didn't get the money they demanded. They may have
been upset that the True Cross had not been returned, but it hardly
seems to justify this degree of grief described, particularly since
there was no comparable grief reported during later negotiations that
also failed to yield the captured relic. The far more logical
explanation of this grief was that the terms of surrender had included
the return of a captive for each member of the garrison held hostage.
Many of the men in Richard's army were hoping to see friends or family
again. It was that loss -- the disappointment combined with fear
that they might never be reunited with loved ones -- that caused so much
grief. Whether Richard's response was the appropriate one or not, we
should not ignore the fact that he was under intense pressure from his
own men. The chronicle makes clear that they believed they been denied
their loved ones because their leaders had been duped.
The fate of captives is a major theme in:
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