“There are other powerful terrors about which I could have written. Western fears of people with dark skins, or malign prejudices in the West extending to half the human race, that is, women, both tempted me. These too, like the fear of Islam, have altered over the centuries but have not been eradicated by enlightenment. Moreover, they appear here, weaving in and out of the long antagonism to Islam. But at least with Islam, there was a starting point, a chronology, that gives some shape to the story. Events, like the storming of Jerusalem in 1099, the capture of Constantinople in 1453, the surrender of Granada in 1492, the battle of Lepanto in 1571, and the obliteration of the Twin Towers in 2001, have a visible consequence. We can read them and see how they made an impact on the human imagination…” -- Andrew Wheatcroft
Around A.D. 1090, at a time when the miserable call to save Eastern Christendom from the Muslims was issued by Pope Urban II, he gave a free rein to what scholars across religious and ideological divides concur, was one of history's prevalent exercises in ineffectiveness.
Over the next 200 years, wave after wave of crusading knights wrecked mayhem, casualty and devastation at the end of which, very little was gained…….
Andrew Wheatcroft, the author of books such as ‘The Habsburgs: Embodying Empire’ and ‘The Ottomans: Dissolving Images’ and one of the first scholars to use photography in writing the history of the Middle East, speaks in this book regarding the aggressive association between Christianity and Islam through the investigation of principally four historical encounters: a) the battle of Lepanto, b) the Spanish Reconquista, c) the Crusades, and d) the Balkanic wars.
Wheatcroft covers an enormous sweep, of both time and place.
The narrative commences in the 7th century and extends into the 21st. Its boundaries are Tamanarasset in Algeria to the south and Vienna to the north, the Atlantic to the west, and the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean to the east.
Intermittently, the author strays outside those limits, but its center is the world connected with the Mediterranean.
This 15 Chapter book is divided into five parts and a conclusion, having the subsequent sections:
PART ONE:
1. “We Praise Thee, O God”: Lepanto, 1571
2. First Contact
PART TWO
3. Al-Andalus
4. “The Jewel of the World”
5. Eternal Spain
6. “Vile Weeds”: Malas Hierbas
PART THREE
7. To the Holy Land
8. Conquest and Reconquest
PART FOUR
9. Balkan Ghosts?
10. Learning to Hate
11. “A Broad Line of Blood”\
PART FIVE
12. “Turban’d and Scimitar’d”
13. The Black Art
14. Maledicta: Words of Hate
CONCLUSION
15. The Better Angels of Our Nature
Part One initiates with the galley battle at Lepanto off the shores of Greece in 1571. At the time, many thought it the transforming moment in an already age-old conflict. It was not, and the narrative goes back to the first point of conflict—in Palestine nine centuries before.
Parts Two, Three, and Four take, in turn, three areas—Spain, the Levant, and the Balkans—where Christianity and Islam existed side by side over a long period.
Spain takes priority and pride of place. While the story of the Crusades is well known, and recent tragic events have played a bright light upon the Balkans, Spain’s history “of the Moors” remains in the shadows. Yet much of what happened in Spain had its echoes and connections elsewhere along the shores of the Mediterranean.
This book follows a solitary thread—the rivalry between the Western Christian and the Mediterranean Islamic worlds.
In Part Five the author suggests how animosity was spread, and how it has lasted into the present.
In the concluding section of the book, in an ostensibly idealistic tone the author quotes, the long and wordy disquisition to the World Islamic Conference, of Mahathir Mohammad, who denounced Muslim passivity:
Mahathir said:
There is a feeling of despondency among the Muslim countries and their people. They feel that they can do nothing right. They believe that things can only get worse. Muslims will forever be oppressed and dominated by the Europeans and the Jews. They will forever be poor, backward and weak. Some believe, this is the Will of Allah, that the proper state of the Muslims is to be poor and oppressed in this world.
But is it true that we should do and can do nothing for ourselves? Is it true that 1.3 billion people can exert no power to save themselves from the humiliation and oppression inflicted upon them by a much smaller enemy? Can they only lash back blindly in anger? Is there no other way than to ask our young people to blow themselves up and kill people and invite the massacre of more of our own people? It cannot be that there is no other way. 1.3 billion Muslims cannot be defeated by a few million Jews. There must be a way. And we can only find a way if we stop to think, to assess our weaknesses and our strength, to plan, to strategise and then to counterattack.
In the concluding section, [something which I found most amusing and childish] Wheatcroft curiously equates Islamophobia with Witchhunt.
In 1486 two Dominican monks, Kramer and Sprenger, wrote a piece against the great mortal evil of their day, what they saw as the most hazardous threat to human society. The two monks in Cologne were fixated with the danger posed by witchcraft and witches. Their manual, ‘The Hammer of Witches’ (Malleus Malleficarum), proved a best seller. Published for the first time in 1486, the Malleus appeared in 13 editions between 1487 to 1520 and 16 between 1574 and 1669. After the Reformation, their work continued to find equal support with Protestants and Catholics alike.
A 15th century manual against witchcraft and a 21st century manual against terrorism read rather in a different way, but their slant is strikingly comparable, as said by the author in the subsequent ways:
1) They both lay out the conditions and causes of evil;
2) They detail how evil spread and how it can be defeated;
3) They present the operational necessities of a war on evil.
4) They castigate all who doubt or frustrate their great work.
“Our vocation is to support justice with power. It is a vocation that has earned us terrible enemies”
According to the author, killing witches ran its bloody itinerary and in due course subsided. “Can we halt a similar modern social panic in its tracks?” – he asks.
History provides a redolent parallel, the author says. Even at its apogee, in the 17th century, the idea of evil taking over a witch’s body was questioned, and undermined; gradually, the witch craze waned. As Chadwick Hansen succinctly put it: “Western civilisation stopped executing witches when the literate and balanced portion of its members stopped believing in their capacity to do harm.” The slow change was engendered through debate and argument, by a war of words, until eventually the very belief in witches became synonymous with a barbarous past.
This is a good history book, sans the didactic, straightlaced moralizing bit.
Grab a copy if you choose.