Historians, students and interested readers have been waiting a long time for a succinct, informative and coherent account of the crusades from the Islamic perspective. While it is too early to say whether Paul M. Cobb has indeed delivered the definitive account, his new book The Race for Paradise: An Islamic History of the Crusades (2014) offers a lively and accessible treatment of the history of the crusades as seen and experienced by those whom he (perhaps a little awkwardly) calls "the crusaded". Drawing on the most recent research in the field, some of which will even come as a welcome revelation to specialist readers working on the crusades from the "traditional", Western perspective, Cobb crafts a lucid narrative which encompasses all the major players and events in a period of nearly four hundred years of conflict stretching from Spain to central Asia. He deliberately - and quite rightly - opts not to focus exclusively on the ongoing war between Christians and Muslims in the Near East from the late eleventh century to the late thirteenth, but instead extends his focus across the entire Mediterranean to Sicily, north Africa, and Spain, in order to incorporate the numerous campaigns in those regions that were imbued with a crusading flavour.
While Cobb's account is for the most part quite clear and readable, peppered liberally with vivid excerpts from medieval chronicles which illustrate how contemporary or near-contemporary writers conceptualised these events, there are some notable holes in the story, as well as hints of structural imbalance. For example, Cobb offers very little discussion or analysis of the Catalan-Pisan crusade against the Balearics in 1113-1115, or of Jaime I of Aragón's own, more successful, expedition against the islands more than a century later. It is also a little disorienting to be catapulted back through time to campaigns against Muslims in twelfth-century Sicily and thirteenth-century Spain after having been led for the previous couple of chapters through the explosive triumphs of the Mamluks and their Ottoman successors right up until the sixteenth century. But these are minor criticisms, and should not detract from the strengths of what is undoubtedly one of the most original works on the crusades to appear in recent years.
I would argue that the real strength of this book, whatever its shortcomings, is the freshness of the perspective it provides. Cobb achieves this freshness by adopting subtle (as well as some less subtle) strategies in order to situate his audience, explicitly identified as non-specialists, within an Islamic and eastern conceptual framework from the outset. The opening chapter, exploiting Muslim geographical accounts and al-Idrisi's famous world map (produced in 1154, supposedly for King Roger II of Sicily), deftly plucks readers from the traditional, West-East context adumbrated at the head of almost every general history of the crusades and cleverly inverts our point of view, encouraging us to imagine how medieval Muslims thought of Christendom long before the expedition which captured Jerusalem in 1099 was ever dreamed of. Cobb maintains this perspective through various other calculated narrative techniques. The crusades, for example, are referred to as "Frankish invasions" more often than not; the crusaders, likewise, are dubbed "the Franks" (echoing the Arabic al-ifranj) far more often than they are called "the crusaders" or "the Christians". For the most part Cobb draws on Islamic rather than Christian sources, a methodological choice which allows him to tilt his angle on the story even more sharply, even if it results in a (deliberate?) obfuscation of the crusaders' motivations and their own context. This aspect of the book in fact highlights one of its most important lessons, something which western historians of the crusades have long been aware of, but still seem generally reluctant to learn: no satisfactory history of crusading, whatever one understands by that term, will ever be written until due attention, interpretation and analysis is granted to sources written by those on all sides of the story. A multitude of voices in Arabic, Latin, Greek, French, Occitan, German, Armenian, Syriac and other medieval languages has left us a rich tapestry of source material on the complex and fascinating conflicts, alliances, exchanges, betrayals and intercultural relations that took place in the course of what we now call "the crusades". Paul Cobb has engagingly shone the torch on the path to a scholarly future in which this multitude might be fully appreciated. The Race for Paradise is a useful corrective to traditional narratives of the crusades, which Cobb sees as falling broadly into the categories of either triumphalism or "lachrymose" victimisation. As with all correctives, it perhaps attempts to knock the pendulum too far in the opposite direction, but it is certainly a welcome and thoughtful contribution to crusades scholarship. It should be read by everyone interested in the crusades, specialists and non-specialists alike.