The Cross and the Crescent

It is the year 1195. The three year truce formed between Richard the Lionheart and Saladin is coming to an end. In the village of Yurusuf, palm trees are spread throughout the plots of irrigated land. Some of the houses are half burnt and lie in disrepair, the scars of war that remain even in a time of truce.

"My lord," a soldier cries from the castle battlement, "there is a group of armed men riding in. It looks like the Sheik of Abbas." A cloud of dust rises in the near distance.

"Shall I gather the guard, sire?" Sir Symon asks.

"No," Lord Costantius says. "The land between here and Abbas is administered and worked by both Franks and Saracens for our mutual sustenance. The Sheik will be coming to discuss the harvest."

"I thought our mission was to fight the heathen, not to grow grain with them," Sir Symon says. His armour glistens in the sunlight, still yet pristine and untested. A red cross on his white tunic displays his status of as a crucesignatus, a crusader.

"You may come to know in time Symon, that there is a time for war and a time for peace." Costantius replies. "You have come with zeal, but that must be tempered with wisdom. Where would we be, if we did not allow ourselves reprieve from war, to till the fields or to trade? We would exhaust each other and leave the land desolate, leaving neither side a victor." He turns to the battlement and orders, "Let them through."

The Sheik rides in with his attendants and guards. They wear a long reddish tunic over white underclothes, with a turban wrapped around their foreheads. The guards bear a long spear and a round decorated shield, with a sword hanging off their belt.

"Assalamu alaikum," the Sheik says in greeting.

"Peace be with you as well," the Frank replies.

"I hope I can rely on your hospitality."

"Of course, let us take your horses and we can go inside." Constantius turns to Eustace, "get some food and water for the Sheiks's men."

Costantius talks with the Sheik as they enter the castle. "The harvest is bountiful. This land is very fertile, and the peace means labourers are free to work without the threat of conscription or raids."

"It is good to enjoy the bounty of the land. I will send more men to help with the labour and to collect our due."

They sit down at opposite sides of a low lying table. The Sheik wipes his dusty and sunburnt face with a wet cloth. The servants bring in platter of meats and fruit for the noble and his guest. There are platters of spiced lamb, flat bread, pomegranates, dates and figs dipped in honey. Another servant brings in a jug of cold goat's milk.

"Ah, what a hearty fare," the Sheik says with approval.

"Let us eat, drink and be merry," Costantius says raising a goblet, which the Sheik matches.

"I enjoy our meetings together, Costantius," the Sheik says laughing, before he lowers his tone. "But I fear we must turn to serious business. The Ayyubid Sultanate is mustering its forces. I hear the Kingdom of Jerusalem is doing the same. "

"That is true," Costantius admits gravely. "It is as the Romans said, 'Let him who desires peace prepare for war.'"

"Then once the truce is at its end, we shall draw our swords once more and fight over the land that we now share. A truce is a mere respite."

"We are friends over a meal, but enemies on battlefield," Costantius quips.

"It is so, it is so."

The Sheik continues, "Do you ever wonder, Costantius, why we fight?"

"The human heart bends toward violence," Costantius replies.

"When Cain murdered his brother Abel, it was said 'if anyone killed a person not in retaliation of murder, or for mischief in the land - it would be as if he killed all mankind.' Are we not both descendants of Abraham, you through Isaac and we through Ishmael? And yet we are spilling each other's blood."

"Tell me then, why do you fight?" Constantius asks.

"The Prophet Muhammed, peace be upon him, led the ummah in battle against the pagans who persecuted us, and gained victory with the help of Allah. Muslims are commanded in his example to 'enjoin what is good and forbid what is wrong' and 'until all religion is for Allah.' We do jihad to struggle against the oppression of believers and wrongdoing. Those who accept Islam will enjoy the true freedom and salvation, while those who do not will face judgement. Upon my death, I hope I will be among the righteous believers received into the 'garden of paradise in which waters flow.'"

They finish the meal and walk out onto the balcony. Cool air blows across. The sky is turned orangey-red with the setting sun. The Sheik continues, "Tell me Costantius, why have you come to the Holy Land?"

The question had remained with him ever since he had departed his family and lands. He had heard a papal delegate preaching. 'Join the crusade,' he said. 'It is your duty and honour to fight to defend Jerusalem and the borders of Christendom against the heathen. Fight in the army of Christ and you will be granted remission of your sins and reprieve from punishment in purgatory.' The Frank had believed such rhetoric when he stitched the red cross upon his surcoat and set out, but the reality of war had worn out his assuredness. In battle, the hearts of good men have become enraged with bloodlust, striking down women and children with brutal abandon. The pious ideals of the soldiers of Christ are lost amongst the brutal primal instincts of combat. The only blood that can merit redemption, he had come to believe, is the blood that Christ shed on the cross, not the blood we spill of our fellow men.

Costantius answers, "I knew a Rabbi who said, shalom is not merely the absence of war, but a situation where justice, fairness and dignity are upheld. I joined the crusade to fight for peace and justice. Perhaps that is beyond the reach of men, and only the return of Christ can see His will completed on earth. But I am a knight, and the way of the sword is all I know. Such is my Sisyphean endeavour." He looks out across Yurusuf. Men and women return from tilling the fields to enjoy their evening meal. Children chase each other through the streets laughing, the worries of the world absent from their merriment. "But to be true, I ask God in my prayers to preserve me and allow me to return home to my family. I have not seen my wife or children for nigh on seven years."

"That has been the story of war since tribe fought against tribe. The chronicles revel in the glories of the noble fighters and the depravities of the wicked enemy, but they rarely touch on the family that is left behind," the Sheik notes sympathetically. "It is written in the Noble Qur'an 'Fighting is enjoined upon while it is hateful to you.' It is blessed to live in a time of peace. We can feast and revel, make love to our wives and raise our children to be good and righteous. But the shadow of war casts shade across our joy, and the time comes when we must fight. The next time we meet, my friend, it may be on the battlefield."

Music beings to be played and people laugh as the revelries of the night begin. "It may be so," Costantius says. "But tonight, you are my guest. Let us enjoy the festivities."