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QALAAT
SALADIN
By Carol
Miller* |
"Silence is the
beginning of wisdom."
Confucius |
Qalaat Saladin (Saladin's Castle) or the "Chateau of Saone"
(Sahyun) was, according to art historian Ross Burns (Monuments of
Syria), "The most romantic of the castles". To
architectural historian Fedden (Crusader Castles), "this
was the finest and best preserved of the feudal castles prior to the
profound modification in defensive architecture that came at the end
of the twelfth century." For art critic and journalist
Deschamps, "Other castles were built with economy and
precision. Saone on the other hand is sprawling, solid and
magnificent."
The
site -- on a rocky wedge-shaped ridge strategically placed between
two steep canyons that ultimately converge in the shape of the prow
of a great ship, soaring at least one hundred and fifty meters over
the riverbed below -- is placed high in the nearly inaccessible
Jebel Daryous range east of Latakia; it was chosen because of its
superlative defensive potential, long before the Crusades. The
wistful location, heady, indomitable, that commands the entire
coastal plain, inspired an early fortification from the Phoenician
period at the beginning of the First Millennium B.C.
The Phoenicians still held the site when Alexander invaded Syria
in 333 B.C. "A number of the castles from this period are
disappointing, in an advanced state of deterioration and
abandonment," writes T.E. Lawrence ("Lawrence of
Arabia") in his Oxford thesis (Crusader Castles), first
published in London in 1936, "but there is one great castle, an
appendage of the Antioch jurisdiction, that of Sahyun, which taken
as a whole is probably the finest example of military architecture
in Syria."
Like the other castles of the north, the visible remains of Saone
correspond largely to the Byzantine period, built, says Lawrence,
"of typical plan but of exceptional quality." This plan
was modified and definitely amplified by the Crusaders. "Saone,"
Lawrence continues, "is of such colossal size, and so deeply
set in the inhospitable hills that complete examination is a matter
of some exertion and discomfort."
More than fifty castles -- and given the idiosyncrasies of the
terrain each of them notably different from the others -- remain as
witnesses to Syria's ancient and varied history. The Europeans who
embarked on the First Crusade in the eleventh century, however, were
mostly French. Their references, as far as defensive architecture
was concerned, dated principally from their Roman occupation. Over
time it was their Christian allies, for example the Armenians, who
amplified this limited expertise, by showing them how to integrate
their construction into the rocky promontories along their way,
following the line of cliffs or making the best use of overhangs and
abutments.
In one after another of the Crusades, the Europeans benefited
knowledge with experience, in order to appreciate urban defenses as
well as battlements in the countryside: the mighty walls of
Constantinople, the efficacy of Byzantine mining and tunneling,
Persian siege and assault tactics, even Alexander's legendary
strategies, as much a miracle of reckless enthusiasm as of
cold-blooded skill. The whole history of the region was a textbook
of successes and failures in military campaigning, in the design and
construction of fortifications, and in the maintenance of defenses
with a well-ordered force of men and horses.
The Crusaders thus learned as they advanced along their nearly
three hundred year enterprise, while they hungered for these fertile
new lands, coveted an exotic plunder rich in all the wonderment of
the East, and fostered resolute intentions of extending Christendom
beyond the Levant. The character of the castles in Asia, however,
was dictated more precisely by the varied topography of the setting,
as well as the nature of the available building materials. Any
philosophy of defensive systems had to be acquired along with
specific experience in any given situation. And meantime an
appalling number of European combatants, and their mercenaries, fell
in battle. Of the one hundred and fifty thousand Crusaders who set
out for Jerusalem, for example, only forty thousand arrived. Many of
these, after confronting Saladin, turned around and went home. Those
who remained had to deal with scant manpower, insufficient
reinforcements and unreliable supplies, so resorted to a
proliferation of castles with their fortified ramparts, whose
formidable presence often inspired the advancing Muslim armies to a
prudent appraisal of the property rather than a direct attack, and
so gave the Christians a welcome respite.
With this the Crusaders became more adept at essential decisions.
Round towers or square? Reinforced double doors or movable gates?
Entrances at right angles to the doorway? Drawbridges, moats,
machicoulis? Not all the decisions were the right ones, not every
campaign was blessed. A number of castles fell and were adapted by
their new owners, others were never taken, until after the fall of
Acre in 1291. They were, instead, simply abandoned. The Crusaders,
in the end defeated, and failed in their long and persistent
attempts at extending their holdings in Asia, retreated first to the
offshore stronghold at Arwad, facing Tortosa (Tartous), then to
Cyprus, Rhodes or Malta, leaving a legacy of new construction
techniques and revised architectural traditions, to be applied in
Europe to new circumstances of military hierarchies; and in Asia
Minor, Syria, and Palestine to a new parade of Muslim regimes.
Nuradin, well into the twelfth century, built fortified citadels in
Damascus, Homs, Aleppo and Bosra, among others, works that continued
into the Ayyubid age of the thirteenth century, the Mamluk period in
the late thirteenth, through the fourteenth, and, after the
devastating Mongol raids that swept everything along in their path
and much of whose destruction had later to be rebuilt, into the
centuries of the Turks, first the Seljuk and then the Ottoman.
A number of these defensive strategies -- in effect, a showcase
for military construction --are patent in Saone. A sole access is
gained through a cut carved along one hundred and fifty-eight meters
in the rock face of one of the canyons. During the rainy season a
raging torrent passed along its course. A monolithic obelisk,
twenty-eight meters high, was therefore left, like an admonishing
finger in the middle of the canyon, to hold a bridge in place. The
bridge has long since vanished. The canyon floor is now a paved
road, that skirts the massive walls and the three enormous circular
towers in the southeast corner of the fortifications above the
rock-cut ditch, or moat, to a parking area at the foot of a steep
stairway.
A visitor originally entered one of the ground level rooms, often
secret, in one of the solid, stone "keeps" or donjon
-- the source of the word dungeon. The first of these, in
contrast to the round towers fused with the rock of the canyon wall,
is a rectangular and carefully erected mass, fifteen by thirteen
meters by seventeen meters in height. Today's visitor has instead to
climb the two hundred and eight exterior steps to the door at the
level of a second floor room, framed by a high, narrow arch above
the lintel, and with this gains admittance to the grassy knolls --
with the scattered stones of ruined constructions embraced by
butterflies among the wildflowers -- in the interior of the citadel.
The Byzantines were temporarily deprived of the enigmatic
mountain stronghold during its occupation by the tenth-century
Hamdanid dynasty of Aleppo. The emperor John I Tzimisces recovered
"the mysterious Sahyun" in the second half of the tenth
century, and in 975 A.D. began the stonework that would culminate in
the expanded defenses. The Crusaders arrived, according to
documentation in the feudal titles of Robert de Saone -- granted in
1119 by Roger, Prince of Antioch -- probably at the beginning of the
twelfth century, and called their "Chateau de Saone"
simply "Saone".
The Byzantines, who were to profit from both the Crusaders and
their Islamic foes, did nothing to oppose the advance of either. Had
they taken up the cause of their fellow Christians the history of
the world might have been written differently. Yet despite the
Crusader rampage throughout the entire twelfth century, and the
difficulty of their maintaining a successful network of fortresses
and citadels, Saone somehow escaped consignment to either the
Templars or the Hospitallers, the two most powerful orders in the
Levant, and remained under Byzantine jurisdiction.
Additional construction, concentrated on the keeps, dates from
well after 1100 and was effected independently of the mainstream
Crusader advance. These keeps caught Lawrence's well-informed eye:
"Conforming to a fairly numerous class of donjon in Syria, this
construction bears a distinct resemblance to the keeps of northwest
Europe, only modified to suit the local conditions. In Europe no
keep was vaulted above the basement. In Syria there was no other way
of making a roof. The largest keeps at Saone, one of them twenty by
fourteen meters by twenty meters in height, and the other
twenty-five by twenty-five by twenty-four meters in height, with
their intricate inner construction, the great halls mounted on
pillars, the interior staircases, the placement of the windows both
for illumination and for bowmen's defense of the terraces, are the
most massive, as well as the most interesting, in all the region.
Though the keep form owes nothing to the Greeks the Syrians were
accustomed to building Greek fortresses. It is evident that the mass
of the work -- their own technique in doorways and staircases, and
ways of dressing stone -- was done by natives of the country."
In 1188, during the height of the Islamic advance against the
Christian invaders, the castle, though it was not at the time a
specifically Crusader stronghold, served the strategic purposes of
the Muslims, so was taken by Saladin, one of the most original and
compelling personalities in all of history.
The greatest "cavalier" or "gentleman" of the
Crusades, honorable to a degree far greater than ever to be found in
his European adversaries and so greatly admired by them, he
considered "clemency a mighty engine of war". For this he
was lauded, among others, by Richard the Lionhearted, his most
fervent admirer. And for the fabric of his entire life he was
especially venerated by Lawrence. When the renegade British leader
of the "Revolt in the Desert" entered Damascus on October
16, 1918, before anything else he paid homage at Saladin's tomb,
inside the precinct of the Umayyad Mosque. Despite the fact that
even today many people in Syria think he was nothing but England's
spy, Lawrence had a vision of himself as a latter-day Saladin,
freeing the desert people of the European yoke and uniting them into
a comprehensive political entity.
Saladin, a nephew of Nuradin's ward, Shirkuh, came to power in
1171 when he shrewdly dethroned what he termed "the last
decadent Fatimid caliph in Egypt". Upon Shirkuh's death, al-Malik
al-Nasir Salah ed-din Yusuf ibn Ayyub, that is, "the King,
the Defender, the Honor of the Faith, Joseph son of Ayyub" --
and in the absence of an acceptable heir to the leadership in
Nuradin's eleven year old son -- Saladin, to fortify the Levant
against the oncoming Crusaders, left Egypt with seven hundred
horsemen, and in one swift campaign after another made himself
master of Syria.
A man of taste and culture, as with his choice, in 1187, of the
exquisite Kufic inscription as the architectural decoration in the
Dome of the Rock -- the octagonal shrine built over the ruins of
Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem to house the Rock of Abraham-- Saladin
was nonetheless unable to instill in his sons the skill and finesse
to carry on his campaign. The Ayyubid rule in Syria lasted only
three generations. But while it flourished, it bore the stamp of
this exceptional man.
He was born in 1138 at Tekrit on the upper Tigris, of non-Semitic
Kurdish stock. His father, Ayyub, became governor first at Baalbek
under Zangi (see Chapter Nineteen), then at Damascus under Nuradin.
Saladin, in such circles, learned well, says Will Durant, "the
magic in statesmanship and the zeal of war." But he combined
them artfully with orthodox piety -- he was a fervent student of
theology-- and an almost ascetic simplicity, to the extent of being
considered among Muslims as a great saint. His principal and
preferred garment was a tunic of coarse woolen cloth. His only drink
was water. His early experience with voluptuosity was transformed in
his mature years to fidelity and constraint. He abhorred the
venality, the indulgence and the uncurbed appetites that he had
observed among the Fatimids and which had contributed directly to
their decadence and demise.
He was sent to Egypt with Shirkuh and was so admired as a soldier
he became commander of Alexandria, which he successfully defended
against the Franks. He became a Vizier at the age of thirty. By
clever, but merciful, maneuvering, upon the death of Al-Adid, the
last of the Fatimids, he dispersed the immense treasury among his
followers while he kept nothing for himself. Will Durant tells us
that "He took the slaves into his own ranks, was chivalrous to
the women of the harem, and with the full approval of a rapturous
following became the governor of Egypt, while he acknowledged
Nuradin as his sovereign."
When he returned to Egypt after his Syrian campaign, however,
with Cairo in chaos he had himself declared King, and initiated the
Ayyubid dynasty. After six years "of giving to Cairo a pious
aspect", he set out again, making Damascus his capital, and
conquered Mesopotamia. As at Cairo, he continued the rigid and
impassioned orthodoxy that propitiated the founding of mosques,
monasteries, madrassas, and hospitals. He lowered taxes, fomented
building and construction, and administered justice. With the
traditional love of the Arab for books he inspired literature, but
disdained poetry, which he considered simply a Persian fixation.
Islam, it was said, gloried in the intelligence, the integrity and
the fairness of his rule.
According to legend, he lived on his campaigns together with his
troops, without privileges or luxuries, and if he ever stayed in
residence at Saone, it was only briefly, on his way from the
interior to the coast. As opposed to the case of other castles,
however, Saone never again fell into Western hands. The emir Nasr
al-Don Manguwiris controlled the castle between 1188 and 1272, until
his family ceded the property to the Mamluk sultan Baibars, in
support of Baibars' continued drive against the Crusaders. It was
during this time that the so-called "Arab baths" were
added, with their domed courtyard surrounded by a wide selection of
vaulted rooms paved in polychrome marble, with tiled walls, and
separate ducts for cold water and steam. A beautifully decorated
ornamental fountain occupied the center of the vestibule.
In 1280 the ex-governor of Damascus, Sonquor al-Ashgar, occupied
the castle, but after a siege in 1287 it was taken by the ambitious
Mamluk sultan al-Mansur Sayf-al-din Qalaun, or Kelaoun, given
obsessively to public works and construction, who ordered a mosque
built inside the defensive walls. The ruins of the mosque still
stand. Especially the rectangular minaret, fourteen by ten meters,
by close to eighteen meters in height, became a landmark. Its two
doors at the ground level led to an inner staircase, that rose to a
small room at the top, its four windows commanding the entire five
hectares of the castle core, including the monumental cistern that
was integrated into the interior of the great walls, and the
monstrous terracotta pipes, that brought the vast amounts of water
from the canyon below. The resident population, however, as the
region became gradually more secure, began to leave the protective
precinct and eventually gravitated to less solitary and inaccessible
sites.
The "Chateau of Saone" fell into disuse. Lawrence
described a number of subsequent visits in his regular
correspondence with his mother. These were casual encounters and
nonchalant references, mostly on his way to someplace else or to
visit friends in the area, without his usual pencil drawings or
architectural observations on the margins of the pages. He still
liked to refer to the castle as "Sahyun".
Yet for all its long history and diverse ownership, the hidden
fortress in the mountains, from the Ottoman days to the present, has
nonetheless been known as Qalaat Saladin: "Saladin's
Castle".
Carol
Miller is a sculptress and journalist who has devoted her
recent years to the research of ancient cultures, as well as
cultural convergence and comparative mythology. She has traveled
extensively in Syria to prepare the articles for Syria Gate, which
are soon to appear in book form. For a look at bio and abstracts of
other books see www.xlibris.com/CarolMiller.html,
or Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com |
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