The Crusaders' Sultan: Reinterpreting the Battle

THE CRUSADERS’ SULTAN: REINTERPRETING THE BATTLE OF TELL BASHIR AND ITS IMPLICATIONS FOR TWELFTH-CENTURY FRANCO-TURKISH POLITICAL RELATIONS IN NORTHERN SYRIA ______

A Thesis

Presented to the

Faculty of

California State University, Fullerton ______

In Partial Fulfillment

of the Requirements for the Degree

Master of Arts

in

History ______

By

Andrew Bolinger

Thesis Committee Approval:

Professor Jochen Burgtorf, Chair Professor Maged Mikhail, Department of History Professor Stephen O’Connor, Department of History

Spring, 2016

ABSTRACT

This thesis focuses on the political backdrop to the battle of Tell Bashir in 1108.

This battle marks an interesting change of alliances wherein Frankish and Turkish armies fought on both sides of the battle only a decade after the First Crusade had arrived in

Syria. Historians have relied heavily on western sources to explain the odd political divisions and the ramifications for the crusader states. The result is a mess, few things are asserted strongly, and the narrative that does come through is deeply problematic. Ibn al-

Athir, a thirteenth century Arab chronicler, gives a thoroughly different account from

either the Latin sources or those maintained by modern historians.

Following the battle of Harran (1104), Count Baldwin II of Edessa had been left

imprisoned in Mosul while a series of intra-Turkish wars ravaged the region. Baldwin II’s release at the hands of Jawuli Saqao—the then Emir of Mosul—came at the price of giving assistance to Jawuli who was making an attempt to overthrow Sultan Muhammad in favor of an oft forgotten Saljuq prince, Baktash ibn Tutush. An alliance between

Tancred, the prince of Antioch, and Ridwan ibn Tutush, the Prince of Aleppo, resisted

Jawuli, leading to the battle of Tell Bashir. This battle was about imperial Saljuq politics,

and the crusader lords of Antioch and Edessa were aligned on opposite sides for reasons

separate from their personal conflicts. This is a major departure from traditional views

that hold that the battle was fought to determine which crusader lord was to rule Edessa.

ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT ...... ii

LIST OF FIGURES ...... v

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...... vi

Chapter 1. PROBLEMS FOR THE BATTLE OF TELL BASHIR ...... 1

1.1 Using Wax to Hide Flaws: The General Problem ...... 5 1.2 Why Would You Do a Thing Like That: Motive Problems ...... 9

2. ROOT OF THE PROBLEM: PRIMARY SOURCES FOR THE BATTLE OF TELL BASHIR ...... 17

2.1. Selling a Cause: the Latin Sources ...... 18 2.2. Pastoring the Flocks: Eastern Christian Sources ...... 22 2.3. Blinded by the Polis: Arabic Sources ...... 25

3. RECONSTRUCTING THE PROCESS: METHODOLOGICAL . CONCERNS ...... 30

4. THE ACCOUNT OF IBN AL-ATHIR ...... 38

4.1. Reclaiming Their Father’s Legacy: The Sons of Tutush ...... 42 4.2. Reestablishing Order: Sultan Muhammad’s War on Emirs...... 46 4.3. Jawuli the Cunning: The Man at the Center of the Intrigue ...... 53 4.4. Edessan Interlude: The Fight over Lordship in the North ...... 58 4.5. The Battle ...... 61

5. SHIFTING DEBATES: THE IMPACT OF IBN AL-ATHIR’S ACCOUNT OF TELL BASHIR ...... 69

5.1. Changing the Basic Story: Synoptic Accounts ...... 69 5.2. The Crusaders’ Sultan: Diplomatic History...... 71 5.3. Finishing the Job: Effects on the “Counter-Crusade” ...... 74

iii

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 79

A. Primary Sources ...... 79 B. Secondary Sources ...... 80

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Page

1. Modern Accounts ...... 3

2. Multi-Account Authors ...... 6

3. Primary Sources ...... 19

4. Saljuq Family Tree...... 40

5. Iraq and Syria 1104-1107 ...... 49

6. Edessa, Tell Bashir, and Harran ...... 68

v

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to my thesis committee for their guidance and support while I pursued my

M.A. at CSUF. These three gentlemen provided the bulk of my education while I pursued

my graduate degree. Dr. Maged Mikhail has made me a much better writer and has

helped form my understanding of both early and medieval Islam. Dr. Stephen O’Connor

prompted me to get started on this project a year ago and helped me through early drafts

of this argument. Finally, the chair of my committee, Dr. Jochen Burgtorf, who has

helped me revise this paper numerous times and has guided me through Crusades historiography.

Most important, thanks to my wife, Renee, who has helped me with my work while also pursuing her doctorate in philosophy. She has had the inglorious task of looking over—very rough—first drafts, helping me with basic grammar and spelling questions,

and pointing out the hostile tone that comes out when I write while grumpy. Without her,

this paper would have been a disaster.

vi

1

CHAPTER 1

PROBLEMS FOR THE BATTLE OF TELL BASHIR

A decade after the First Crusade had arrived in Syria (1108), an odd battle took

place between Christian and Muslim armies near the castle of Tell Bashir (approximately

ten miles southeast of modern Gaziantep, Turkey).1 Not unusual in tactics or strategy, the

battle was odd because of who fought on each side. A crusader, Count Baldwin II of

Edessa, and a Turkish Emir, Jawuli Saqao of Mosul, led one army opposite the forces of

Tancred, the regent of Antioch, and the Turkish prince, Ridwan of Aleppo. The roots of

this conflict lay four years earlier in the first major defeat of the crusader forces at the

battle of Harran. At that battle, Turks had shattered the armies of Antioch and Edessa.

Both Edessan leaders, Baldwin II and his cousin Joscelin of Tell Bashir, were captured while the Antiochene leaders, Bohemond I and his nephew Tancred, scrambled to contain the fallout from the defeat. It took four years for the captured lords to return to their lands, and their release sparked events leading to Tell Bashir. Thomas Asbridge’s

Crusades provides a brief synopsis of the battle:

When Baldwin sought to reclaim Edessa in the summer of 1108, a tense standoff ensued. Having enjoyed access to the wealth and resources of the county for four

1 Tell Bashir is also known as Turbessel or Tell Baschir. When at all possible, proper nouns will reflect the usage in Donald Richards’s translations of Ibn al-Athir, see, Ibn al- Athir, “al-Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh,” in The Annals of the Saljuq Turks: Selections from al- Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh of ‘Izz al-Din Ibn al-Athir, trans. Donald Richards (New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2002) and in The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir for the Crusading Period from al-Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh. Part 1: The Years 491-541/1097-1146: The Coming of the Franks and the Muslim Response, trans. Donald Richards (Burlington: Ashgate, 2005).

2

years, Tancred had no intention of simply handing over a territory which he had saved from conquest, and he now sought to pressure Baldwin into taking an oath of subservience [. . .] The count refused, not least because he had already sworn allegiance to [Baldwin I of Jerusalem] in 1100. With neither side willing to give ground, conflict seemed inevitable. In early September both men raised armies [. . .] More shocking still was the fact that Baldwin marched forth to this struggle alongside his new ally, [Jawuli] of Mosul, and some 7,000 Muslim troops. When battle was joined, probably near Tell Bashir, Tancred, although outnumbered, managed to hold the field. But with some 2,000 Christian dead on both sides, Patriarch Bernard, the ecclesiastical overlord of both Antioch and Edessa, stepped in to calm frayed tempers and adjudicate. When witnesses publicly attested that Tancred had actually promised Bohemond in 1104 that he would relinquish control of Edessa upon Baldwin’s release, the Antiochene ruler was forced grudgingly to back down.2

Asbridge’s synopsis is somewhat typical of shorter narratives concerning the

establishment of the Latin states, though variation is very common between authors.

Generally, shorter summaries of the establishment of the Latin states give short

explanations for how the battle of Tell Bashir happened with simplified causes.

Overwhelmingly, they ignore the Armenian involvement in the battle and refer to a single

battle. More detailed accounts tend to come from biographies of individuals involved at

the battle, long summaries of the Latin states, or works focused on individual states impacted by the battle and give much more nuanced reasons for the conflict. These works

mention multiple battles and attempt to explain why Turks, Latins, and Armenians

assembled against each other in such curious array. For brevity, the diverse set of modern

opinions regarding the battle is condensed into Figure 1.

2 Thomas Asbridge, The Crusades: The Authoritative History of the War for the Holy Land (New York: Harper Collins, 2010), 146-147. Proper names were changed for consistency.

Figure 1: Modern Both Responsible Party # of Battles Cause of Battle Armenians Accounts Turks Tancred Baldwin Ridwan Jawuli 1 2+ Edessa Aleppo Mosul Baktash Frankish Poverty Asbridge, Principality X C I I I I I I X I I Asbridge, Crusades X X X X X Barber X X X X Basan X X X X Cobb X X X X El-Azhari X X X X France X X X X X Grousset, Epic X X X X C Hillenbrand X X X X Jotischky X X X X X Kugler, Geschichte X X X X X X C MacEvitt X X X X X X Murray X X X X X Piyadeoglu X X X X X C Sabourin X X X X Stevenson X X X X X X C Amouroux-Mourad X X X X X Cahen X A A B B X X A B C Demirkent X X X X X A B Fink X A B X X A B C Grousset, Histoire X C X X A B D Köhler X A A B X X A B Kugler, Boemund X C X X X X X Malouf X B B A X A, C B Mayer X X X X Michaud X X X X X X Nicholson, Joscelyn X A B X X A B C Nicholson, Tancred X A B X X A B C Ozyadin X A X X X A B C Rohricht X C X X X X Runciman X A B B X X A B X = generic marker, A = cause of first battle, B = cause of second battle, C = root cause, D = dismissed as a legitimate cause, I = inconclusive

Works mentioning Armenians in the battle are shaded, chart is sorted by number of battles. 3

4

The chart makes it clear that few modern sources agree on how many battles

happened, who was involved, and who was to blame.3 This chapter focuses on the

3 Monique Amouroux-Mourad, Le Comté d’Edesse: 1098-1150 (Paris: Geuthner, 1988); Asbridge, The Crusades, and The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 1098-1130 (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 2000); Malcolm Barber, The Crusader States (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012); Aziz Basan, The Great Saljuqs: A History (New York: Routledge, 2010); Claude Cahen, La Syrie du Nord a l’Epoque des Croisades et la Principaute Franque d’Antioche (Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1940); Paul Cobb, The Race for Paradise: An Islamic History of the Crusades (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014); Taef El-Azhari, The Saljūqs of Syria: During the Crusades 463-549 A.H./1070-1154 A.D. (Berlin: Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 1997); Harold Fink, “The Foundation of the Latin States, 1099-1118,” in A History of the Crusades, Volume I: The First Hundred Years, ed. Marshall Baldwin and Kenneth Setton (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1958), 393-394; John France, The Crusades and the Expansion of Catholic Christendom, 1000-1714 (New York: Routledge, 2005); Rene Grousset, The Epic of the Crusades, trans. Noel Lindsay (New York: Orion Press, 1970), and Histoire des Croisades et du Royaume Franc de Jerusalem (Paris: Librairie Plon, 1934); Carole Hillenbrand, The Crusades: Islamic Perspectives (New York: Routledge, 2000); Andrew Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States (Harlow: Pearson Education Ltd, 2004); Michael Köhler, Alliances and Treaties between Frankish and Muslim Rulers in the Middle East: Cross-Cultural Diplomacy in the Period of the Crusades, trans. Peter Holt, ed. Konrad Hirschler (Leiden: Brill, 2013); Bernhard Kugler, Bohemond und Tankred, Fürsten von Antiochien: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Normannen in Syrien (Tubingen: Gedruckt, 1862), and Geschichte der Kreuzzüge (Berlin: G. Grote, 1880); Amin Maalouf, The Crusades through Arab Eyes, trans. Jon Rothschild (London: Al Saqi Books, 1984); Cristopher MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East: Rough Tolerance (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008); Hans Eberhard Mayer, Geschichte der Kreuzzüge, Tenth Edition (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2005); Joseph Michaud, The History of the Crusades, Volume I, trans. William Robson (New York: Armstrong and Son, 1891); Alan Murray, “Baldwin II,” in The Crusades: an Encyclopedia, ed. by Alan Murray, vol. I (Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2006), 135; Robert Nicholson, Tancred: A Study of his Career and Work in Relation to the First Crusade and the Establishment of the Latin States in Syria and Palestine (Chicago: The University of Chicago Libraries, 1940), and Joscelyn I Prince of Edessa (Urbana: The University of Illinois Press, 1954); Abdülkerīm Özaydin, Sultan Muhammed Tapar Devrī Selçuklu Tahīrī (498-511/1105-1118) (Ankara: Türk Tarīh Kurumu Basimevī, 1990); Cihan Piyadeoglu, “Büyük Selçuklu Devleti Emîri Atabeg Çavli Sakavu” in Istanbul Universitesi Edebiyat Fakultesi Tarih Dergisi, ed. Ali İhsan Gencer (Istanbul: İstanbul Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi Tarih Bölümü, 2003), 37-60; Reinhold Röhricht, Gechichte des Königreichs Jerusalem (1100-1291) (Innsbruck: Wagner, 1898); Steven Runciman, A History of the Crusades, Volume II: The Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Frankish East 1100-1187 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1954); Pascal

Sabourin, “Baudoin de Bourq, Croise, Comte d’Edesse, Roi de Jerusalem: Proposition de

5

problems and inconsistencies in modern historical accounts of the battle. Specifically, 1.1

covers concerns about how the battle is used by modern historians, while 1.2 attacks

inconsistencies in the details of modern accounts. I will show how modern accounts

invariably have deep problems motivating the characters within their narratives. These

problems arise from the practice of synthesizing widely divergent primary source

accounts into one unstable narrative. Section 2 addresses the divergent primary sources,

while section 3 attempts to assess and correct the methodological process that created the

problems in section 1. Section 4 covers the most thorough and stable account of Tell

Bashir, that of thirteenth century Arab chronicler Ibn al-Athir, and shows how this

account is consistent and coherent while avoiding the problems from section 1.

Ibn al-Athir’s account redefines modern understandings of Franco-Turkish relations of

the time as it implies that Baldwin II and Joscelin were complicit in a plot to overthrow

the foremost Saljuq power in the region, Sultan Muhammad, in favor of Prince Baktash

ibn Tutush. Section 5 works through the ramifications of Ibn al-Athir’s story of Tell

Bashir upon modern scholarship.

1.1. Using Wax to Hide Flaws: The General Problem

The general problem for modern authors’ coverage of the battle is their misuse of

the event for narrative goals. The first step in untangling the mass of opinions concerning

the battle is to understand what differentiates the positions and what ties them together.

The four authors who relate the battle in multiple works serve as a guide for what makes these works different. Interestingly of these four surveyed authors only one, Robert

Lecture d’un Itinéraire peu Ordinaire,” Revue Historique Ardennaise 31 (1996): 3-15; William Stevenson, The Crusaders in the East: A Brief History of the Wars of Islam with the Latins in Syria during the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1907).

Figure 2: Multi- Both Responsible Party # of Battles Cause of Battle Armenians Account Authors Turks Tancred Baldwin Ridwan Jawuli 1 2+ Edessa Aleppo Mosul Baktash Frankish Poverty Asbridge, X X X X X Crusades Asbridge, X C I I I I I I X I I Principality Grousset, Epic X X X X C Grousset, Histoire X C X X A B D Kugler, Boemund X C X X X X X Kugler, X X X X X X C Geschichte Nicholson, X A B X X A B C Joscelyn Nicholson, X A B X X A B C Tancred X = generic marker, A = cause of first battle, B = cause of second battle, C = root cause, D = dismissed as a legitimate cause, I = inconclusive Shorter renditions are shaded, chart is sorted alphabetically by author. 6

7

Nicholson, gives roughly the same content twice. Thomas Asbridge’s account in The

Crusades (included above) gives a succinct story, but his work in the Creation of the

Principality of Antioch is far more careful and commits to very little on the grounds that

little can be said decisively because “the exact course of the ensuing dispute [. . .] is also confused by conflicting evidence.”4 Laying aside the primary source variation problem

for section 2, the prima facie reason for Asbridge’s two different positions is the scope

and purpose of his two works. Crusades is a general history of the crusades and the Latin

states and so uses the battle as an example of political evolution in the region. Creation is

a detailed account of state formation in Antioch and as such gives a much more nuanced

view of the battle and its relation to the development of the fledgling principality. As

Figure 2 shows, Rene Grousset and Bernhard Kugler suffer from similar discrepancies

which likewise correspond to the size and scope of the works: the smaller general account

gives a simplified version that the longer version expands both in number of battles and

participants. The reason that Nicholson’s accounts are nearly identical is that they both

have similar biographic scopes.

This trend matches general other works from Figure 1: shorter or broader works

tend to simplify the battle down to fit the larger picture that is trying to narrate. Often the

authors who argue for a single conflict focus on one of two narratives. Many mention the

battle as a premise in an argument detailing how the kingdom of Jerusalem became the

chief Latin power in the East.5 On this model, the battle is primarily a rejection of

Antioch’s authority over Edessa in favor of Jerusalem. A few months later in Tripoli,

4 Asbridge, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 112.

5 See Asbridge, The Crusades, Barber, Crusades, Grousset, Epic of the Crusades, or Jotischky, Crusading and the Crusader States.

8

Antiochene authority was again snubbed in favor of Jerusalem. Other short renditions

focus on Islamic causes and show the crusader lords drawn into the rivalries of the petty

princes that dominated Islamic Syria during this era.6 Consequently, these versions posit

the control of Aleppo or Mosul as motivating factors in the battle.

Larger texts include much more information but retain similar narrative arcs.

They tend to split the conflict into two separate battles, one for each of the narratives

used in shorter versions.7 This portrays the battle as a tidy meshing of the intra-Frankish struggle to define a hierarchy and Islamic squabbling of the time. Biographically or state- focused narratives tend to show even greater detail than large works, giving deeper— though not substantially different—justifications for why characters acted as they did. So, while scope and purpose create notable differences in details, the same basic narratives dominate every case.

Unfortunately, these narratives have a corrupting effect on the portrayal of the battle. The details and characters are flattened out and contorted to fit the narrative.8 The

more details included, the more difficult it becomes to stick with the common purpose for

including the battle. Despite their presence in Ibn al-Athir’s account, Islamic political

outsiders or dissidents—such as Baktash ibn Tutush, General Sabawa, or the sons of

Sadaqa—almost never get even a passing mention in modern accounts. Their presence

muddles the clean story. For example, Rene Grousset mentions Baktash only to dismiss

6 See Cobb, The Race for Paradise, Grousset, Epic of the Crusades, or Hillenbrand, Islamic Perspectives.

7 See Grousset, Histoire des Croisades, Nicholson, Joscelyn I, or Runciman, History of the Crusades Vol. II.

8 More on character inconsistencies in section 1.2.

9

his role and refocus on Jawuli’s cunning and desperation in the accepted story line.9

Steven Runciman goes into great detail for this battle, especially in covering events in

Iraq. However, to fit these details with the two dominant narrative arcs, Runciman inverts the chronology of events at Mosul in ways unsupported by any source.10 It is hazardous

to allow the larger narratives to dictate what details are retold without allowing the

details—especially outliers—to guide the construction of the larger narratives. What

should be symbiotic is, when imbalanced, distorting. As it is, many details and possible

causes are never mentioned in modern narratives to the detriment of scholarship focused

on this era.

1.2. Why Would You Do a Thing Like That: Motive Problems

Moreover, all of these modern accounts fail on their own terms to make

convincing historical accounts of the battle. Invariably, modern versions contain notable

“plot holes” in characters’ motives. The common portrayal of certain characters strains

against behavior patterns found in the rest of the historic literature. Either several leaders

in northern Syria decided to act out of character in the summer and fall of 1108, or

modern scholarship has misrepresented the situation.

Take for example Baldwin II: even when he is not depicted as the instigator of the

battle, his portrayals preceding Tell Bashir are incongruous with his character as recorded

elsewhere. Throughout his military career, Baldwin II took few needless risks. Whether

in holding Mawdud at bay by taking defensive positions during the Emir’s annual raids

from 1110-1113, repeatedly out-maneuvering Il-Ghazi from 1119-1121 following

9 Grousset, Histoire des Croisades, 441.

10 Runciman, History of the Crusades Vol. II, 111-113; section 1.2 addresses this in greater detail.

10

Antioch’s crippling defeat at the battle of Ager Sanguinis, or drawing Il-Bursuqi into a

disadvantageous battle at Azaz in 1125, Baldwin always showed discipline and caution in

choosing when to risk battle.11 He is characterized by his reluctance to go to battle unless

on favorable ground of his choosing. His few notable defeats came not from aggression,

but from having poor knowledge of enemy troop movements which led to ambushes.12

His political skill was appreciated when, in 1118, King Baldwin I died and the nobility of

the Kingdom of Jerusalem eschewed custom to crown Baldwin I’s cousin, Count

Baldwin II, as king of Jerusalem instead of Baldwin I’s closer relative Eustace III of

Boulogne.13 Though there was surely some intrigue involved in the selection of Baldwin

II, the nobles clearly thought him a highly competent leader with a proven record.

Baldwin II’s political aptitude is further highlighted in his choosing of Fulk of Anjou as

his son-in-law and successor just as the Angevins were ascending in English and French

politics.14 His decision tied Jerusalem to two of the strongest kings in western Europe.

The rest of the literature that deals with Baldwin II and is not focused on Tell Bashir

shows him to be cautious, wise, and well-respected.15

11 Each of these events are explained in detail in general accounts. See Runciman, History of the Crusades Vol. II, 123, 153, 159-161, and 173.

12 At Haran in 1104, the Edessans were split from the Antiochenes and surprised when the Turks engaged, see Fink, “The Foundation of the Latin States,” 389; in 1123, Balak ambushed Baldwin while resting during a long march, see Robert Nicholson, “The Growth of the Latin States, 1118-1144,” in A History of the Crusades, Volume I: The First Hundred Years, ed. Marshall Baldwin and Kenneth Setton (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1958), 419.

13 Hans Eberhard Mayer, “The Succession to Baldwin II of Jerusalem: English Impact on the East,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 39 (1985): 139.

14 Ibid., 140-146.

15 Murray, “Baldwin II,” 135-6.

11

When, as Asbridge notes above, Baldwin sought to reclaim Edessa, he did so after

a four-year imprisonment in Mosul. He came back poor, with few allies, and few (if any)

troops, as Edessa was still ruled by Tancred’s relative Richard. Matthew of Edessa relates

that Richard ruled harshly and taxed heavily.16 Albert of Aachen confirms this, saying

that Antioch was raking in 40,000 bezants per year by taxing Edessa at this time.17

Complicating matters, during Baldwin’s absence Tancred had met with great military

success, reversing all the losses suffered after the debacle at Harran and expanding the

principality of Antioch to greater size than ever before.18 In fact, by 1108 Tancred made the Saljuq Prince Ridwan and his capital of Aleppo a tributary of Antioch.19 No doubt the

money from Edessa and Aleppo was funding the Antiochene war machine, a fact supported by a passing comment from Usāmah Ibn Munqidh who noted that Tancred paid his soldiers very generously.20 Tancred was the most powerful man in northern Syria

at the time, and his strategic successes in Syria were vital to the crusader cause.21 This

16 Matthew of Edessa, “The Chronicle of Matthew of Edessa,” in Armenia and the Crusades, Tenth to Twelfth Centuries: The Chronicle of Matthew of Edessa, trans. Ara Dostourian (New York: University Press of America, 1993), 3.30, 3.39.

17 Even if this is a wild inflation it seems fair that Tancred was making a tidy profit from Edessa, see Albert of Aachen, “Historia Hierosolymitanae expeditionis,” in Historia Ierosolimitana: A History of the Journey to Jerusalem, ed. and trans. Susan Edgington (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2007), 9.46.

18 Asbridge, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 58-68.

19 El-Azhari, Saljūqs of Syria, 127; Stevenson, Crusaders in the East, 81.

20 This is just a passing line, but may still have some importance to explaining Tancred’s strategy. See Usāmah Ibn Munqidh, “Kitāb al-I’tibār,” in An Arab-Syrian Gentleman and Warrior in the Period of the Crusades, trans. Philip Hitti (New York: Columbia University Press, 1929), 1.41.

21 Asbridge, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 58-68; Mayer, Geschichte der Kreuzzüge, 92.

12

weakened Baldwin’s position, as the success of Tancred was a justification for his rule.

Baldwin needed tact to reclaim his lordship from his powerful rival.

Given his weak position and what is known about his character, we should expect

Baldwin to have negotiated or sought mediation; violence was not likely to work in his

favor. Instead, some authors split the blame for the battle between Baldwin and Tancred,

with a few blaming the Turks directly and placing some ancillary blame on the two

crusaders.22 None focus on Baldwin’s almost complete lack of military power at the

moment of his emancipation. Nor do they call attention to the political solutions for

Baldwin that are clearly present in their own accounts.

As shown above by Asbridge, Patriarch Bernard of Antioch reproached Tancred

regarding his illegal retention of Edessa in 1108. The next year Tancred was again

rebuked, this time by King Baldwin I of Jerusalem regarding Antiochene machinations

on the fledgling county of Tripoli.23 Bernard’s and Baldwin I’s concerns about Tancred’s ambitions to control neighboring states did not arise spontaneously; they had seen him expand Antioch’s power over the previous four years and had known his aggressive ways for at least a decade. Either of these men should have seemed obvious allies for Baldwin

II to use to win back his county. Additionally, Matthew of Edessa says Baldwin had the support of local Armenians under the leader Kogh Vasil who chafed under harsh

Antiochene rule.24 Everything we know about Baldwin II leads us to think that he would

not pursue a military confrontation that he could not win, yet no modern account shows

22 See figure 1.

23 Asbridge, The Crusades, 147-149.

24 Matthew of Edessa, 3.30, 3.39.

13

Baldwin avoiding that type of conflict. If all the primary sources claim Baldwin acted

aggressively, then there would be little room for debate. This simply is not the case.

Chapter 4 will demonstrate that Baldwin acted just as expected: he used Bernard to

confirm his lordship of Edessa without an open battle. However, there are still more

character inconsistencies to cover in modern accounts.

The aforementioned patriarch of Antioch, Bernard, has his own problems in

modern versions of the battle. First, Bernard’s involvement is only recorded by Ibn al-

Athir, but he then is credited with actions not included in the source. In the few modern

versions where Bernard plays a role, he is an agent of the miraculous: interrupting a battle

between thousands to bring peace through legal argument.25 Of course the honorable

patriarch was a little bit late; a few thousand Christians had already been killed in the

battle. Ibn al-Athir, whose account will be addressed below, does not give Bernard such a dramatic role. One should dismiss this notion of Bernard parting the armies like Moses had parted the Red Sea on the grounds that it is too incredible. He very likely did help

Baldwin II regain Edessa, but he had nothing to do with stopping a raging battle.

Baldwin’s and Bernard’s narratives are not the only ones that suffer in modern synthetic accounts. Modern historians attribute some truly bizarre decisions to the

Turkish emir of Mosul, Jawuli. Few bother to use more than a sentence or two bother to explain why Jawuli fought at Tell Bashir. Those who do spend more time on Jawuli still fail give him any plausible motive for his actions. Runciman characterizes Jawuli as follows:

Jawuli was now able to enter Mosul [having taken it from Jokermish and Qilij Arslan on the orders of Sultan Muhammad], where he soon made himself odious

25 Asbridge, The Crusades, 147-149; Grousset, Histoire des Croisades, 436-438.

14

by the savagery of his rule. Nor did he show more deference to his overlord the Sultan Muhammed than Jokermish had shown. After a year Muhammed planned to replace him, and sent against him an army led by the Mamluk Mawdud [. . .] Joscelin then sought to secure the release of Baldwin, who, with all Jokermish’s belongings, was in Jawuli’s power. The moment was well chosen; for Jawuli needed help against the coming attack of Mawdud. He demanded sixty thousand dinars, the release of the Moslem captives held at Edessa, and a military alliance. While the negotiations were in progress, Jawuli was driven from Mosul, where he had found no support from the citizens, who opened their gates to Mawdud. He established himself in the Jazira, taking Baldwin with him[. . .]This alliance alarmed Ridwan of Aleppo. Jawuli threatened his possessions on the Euphrates. He countered by raiding a convoy of merchandise, including some of Baldwin’s ransom-money, sent from Turbessel to Jawuli’s court. In September 1108 Jawuli attacked and captured the town of Balis, on the Euphrates, only fifty miles from Aleppo, and crucified Ridwan’s chief supporters in the town. Ridwan at once sought help from Tancred [. . .]26

Runciman has several problems, the most glaring of which is that, as noted in section 1.1, he asserts a chronology not found in any primary sources to realign Jawuli’s actions to fit the popular story of modern historians. No source says that “Jawuli was driven from

Mosul” and then “established himself in the Jazira.” All the accounts that give any detail to the siege of Mosul agree that Jawuli left the defense of the city to his wife and some picked troops, and the city fell well after Jawuli had left Mosul.27 The difference has deep implications for Jawuli’s purpose and motive regarding Baldwin; with Mosul already lost he might have taken even the most desperate of options.

Runciman’s second problem (a problem shared by many) is the hollow accounting for Jawuli’s motives. Jawuli was supposedly fleeing trouble with the Sultan, so why would he ally with the count of Edessa who was left un-ransomed for four years,

26 Runciman, History of the Crusades Vol. II, 111-113.

27 Ibn al-Athir, 10.458; Gregory Bar Hebraeus, “Chronicon Syriacum,” in The Chronongraphy of Gregory Abu’l-Faraj, 1225-1286, The Son of Aaron, the Hebrew Physician, Commonly Known as Bar Hebraeus: Being the First Part of His History of the World, trans. Ernest Budge (Amsterdam: APA – Philo Press, 1976), 10.273.

15

who had no army awaiting him, and whose lands were held by Tancred? Why not ally

with Tancred and force Baldwin to submit to Tancred’s authority? Or why not just find

any different ally? Or just take money instead of alliance? Of all the options, taking on

Baldwin as an ally is the most bizarre choice for someone who is looking for quick help

to defeat the Sultan’s army. Baldwin could not have significantly helped Jawuli; he was

dead weight.

Similar to the incongruity between Baldwin’s aggression and the rest of his

career, a brief synopsis of Jawuli’s career shows him to be a very skillful general, not the

type to embroil himself in frivolous affairs. In the two previous years, he had crushed the

rebellion of the very powerful Prince Qilij Arslan and deposed the previous Emir of

Mosul, Jokermish.28 Why would this skilled general seek his prisoner Baldwin as his

ally? Moreover, why would he come fight a battle to secure Edessa? There is no tactical

or strategic logic in leaving Mosul to look for support, allying with a Frankish lord with

no army, traveling to Syria to win that Frank’s lands, and then after all that still need to travel back to Mosul to defeat Mawdud. None of the accounts even hint that Baldwin of

Edessa was going to give Jawuli asylum, so that cannot be the reason he joined with

Baldwin. There must have been some reason Jawuli and Baldwin were allied, but historians, focused on how the battle affected Latin politics, have neglected Jawuli’s motives and strategic prowess.

Modern authors also claim that Jawuli tried to capture Aleppo to avoid the problems with the Sultan; this is erroneous.29 The taking of Aleppo suffers from the same

28 Ibn al-Athir, 10.422-430; Gregory Bar Hebraeus, 10.270-272.

29 See Cobb, The Race for Paradise, Grousset, Epic of the Crusades, or Hillenbrand,

Islamic Perspectives.

16

lack of strategy as before. If Mosul was under siege by order of the sultan, how would it

help to replace the weak Muslim prince, Ridwan? Would Aleppo resist indefinitely when

Mosul could not? In fact, Ridwan and Jawuli had cooperated in defeating Qilij Arslan

just one year earlier; one would think that turning on his old friend would be a low

priority when the Sultan’s army was attacking.30 Considering the other details we have

about his life, one should assume Jawuli had a strategic plan, but modern accounts simply

fail to provide anything to explain his motives.

As for the remaining central characters in modern accounts of Tell Bashir,

Ridwan and Tancred are well represented in modern texts. As noted earlier, several

sources bear witness to Tancred taking large amounts of money from neighboring cities

which funded his rapid military expansion.31 He needed to retain Edessa and sought to

keep it under his sway and defuse tensions by making Baldwin his subordinate. This is

rational and, given Tancred’s successes, a very pragmatic solution that modern authors

effectively convey. Ridwan’s position is rarely covered, and when it is, it simply reflects his relation to Tancred. When he felt pressed by Jawuli, Ridwan appealed to Tancred as a tributary should.32 Any inconsistencies in Ridwan’s portrayal in modern narratives derive

from problems with Jawuli’s portrayal and thus shall be sidelined.

30 Ibn al-Athir, 10.428-429; Gregory Bar Hebraeus, 10.272.

31 Albert of Aachen, 9.46.

32 El-Azhari, The Saljūqs of Syria, 124-129.

17

CHAPTER 2

ROOT OF THE PROBLEM: PRIMARY SOURCES FOR THE BATTLE OF TELL BASHIR

The inconsistencies in modern accounts do not stem from carelessness or any

other such vice, but from using subpar primary sources to counterbalance more coherent

ones. Many of the primary sources for the battle are either obviously erroneous or

dismissive to the point of silence regarding the battle. This chapter addresses problems

found in the primary sources for the battle of Tell Bashir. Section 2.1 focuses on critiques

found in the historiography of each of the Latin sources, while 2.2 and 2.3 give similar

treatment to Eastern Christian and Islamic sources respectively. As it turns out, many of

the established concerns about these texts converge on their accounts of the battle of Tell

Bashir. In addition to shaky credibility for this battle, accounts vary so incredibly that

neatly synthesizing them into one narrative is impossible.33 This is why Thomas

33 See Figure 3; Albert of Aachen, 9.46, 10.37-38, 11.10-22; “The First and Second Crusade from an Anonymous Syrian Chronicle,” trans. Arthur S. Tritton, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, no. 1 (1933): 69-101; Fulcher of Chartres, “Historia Hierosolymitana expeditionis,” in A History of the Expedition to Jerusalem: 1095-1127, trans. Frances R. Ryan and ed. Harold S. Fink (Knoxville: The University of Tennessee Press, 1969), 2.28.1-5; Gregory Bar Hebraeus, 10.269-274; Ibn al-Adim, “De la Chronique d’Alep,” in Recueil des Historiens des Croisades: Historiens Orientaux, Tome III (Paris: Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, 1884), 595-596; Ibn al-Athir, 10.457-466; Ibn al-Qalanisi, “Mudhayyal Ta’rikh Dimashq,” in The Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades, trans. Hamilton A. R. Gibb (London: Luzac & Co., 1932); Matthew of Edessa, 3.39-40; Michael the Syrian, “Chronicle,” in The Syriac Chronicle of Michael Rabo (The Great): A Universal History from the Creation, trans. Matti Moosa (Teaneck: Beth Antioch Press, 2014), 15.8-15.14; Sibt al-Jawzi, “Du Mirât

ez-Zèmân,” in Recueil des Historiens des Croisades: Historiens Orientaux, Tome III

18

Asbridge concludes in his 2000 work, The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, that

there is little one can know about what happened at the battle.34

2.1. Selling a Cause: the Latin Sources

The first Latin source is Fulcher of Chartres. As the chaplain to the early kings of

Jerusalem, Fulcher had unique insight into the politics of the Latin East that should be

reflected in the battle. Surprisingly, Fulcher is very terse concerning Tell Bashir.35 This is

because his account of the battle suffers from being at odds with his purpose in writing

his chronicle. Historiographical works have long noted Fulcher’s repeated disruptions to

his chronicle to make overt calls for Europeans to settle the Latin east.36 Such an endeavor loses its holy ring when Christians in the east ally with Muslims to kill other

Christians.37 Thus, Fulcher dismisses the battle as quickly as he can without outright

ignoring it: giving few details and presenting the resolution so quickly as to make it seem

little more than a quarrel between friends. He also cleverly shifts blame from Tancred

(Paris: Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, 1884); Usāmah Ibn Munqidh, “Kitāb al-I’tibār,” in An Arab-Syrian Gentleman and Warrior in the Period of the Crusades, trans. Philip K. Hitti (New York: Columbia University Press, 1929); William Archbishop of Tyre, A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea, trans. Emily A. Babcock and August C. Krey, Vol. 1 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1943), 11.8.

34 Asbridge, Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 112.

35 Fulcher of Chartres, 2.28.1-5

36 Harold Fink, introduction to “Historia Hierosolymitana expeditionis,” in A History of the Expedition to Jerusalem: 1095-1127, trans. Frances R. Ryan and ed. Harold S. Fink (Knoxville: The University of Tennessee Press, 1969), 24-25.

37 MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East, 62.

Participants Instigating Party Armenians # of Battles Cause of Battle Figure 3: Primary Baldwin or back Control Control Control Control Sources Tancred Jawuli Ridwan Edessa Antioch Turks 1 2+ Baktash Joscelin Baldwin Edessa Aleppo Antioch Mosul Fulcher of

X X X X X Chartres William of X X X X X Tyre Albert of X X X X X X X Aachen Ralph of Caen

Western Christian Walter the

Chancellor

Matthew of X X X X X X X Edessa Bar-Hebraeus X X X X X X X C Anon. Syriac X X X X X X Michael the X ? X X X X X

Eastern Christian Syrian

Ibn al-Adim X X X X X X X X Ibn Al-Athir X X X X X X X A B C C Sibt al-Jawzi Ibn al-Qalanisi Usāmah Ibn Arab Muslim Munqidh X = generic marker, A = cause of first battle, B = cause of second battle, C = root cause Works that are silent about the battle of Tell Bashir are darkly shaded. Works that mention all four participants are lightly shaded.

19

20

and Baldwin on to Baldwin’s subordinate, Joscelin of Tell Bashir.38 Fulcher steers the

audience to more constructive stories regarding Baldwin I defending Jerusalem and his

unifying of the Latin states under his authority at the siege of Tripoli.39 Curiously,

Fulcher also places this story slightly out of order in his account as if to distance this

event from others contemporaneous events.40 Decades later, William of Tyre essentially

copies Fulcher’s account, making only a few minor changes.41 While adding nothing of

substance, William’s repetition bolsters Fulcher’s account as two thirds of the

contributing Latin sources agree about the battle.

The other major Latin source, Albert of Aachen, relates a much slower resolution

to the conflict: months after the battle King Baldwin I had to threaten to treat Tancred

like a pagan (unite the Latin states against him in war) to bring peace to the northern

lords.42 But this hostility to Tancred needs to be taken with more than a few grains of salt; Albert wrote from Lothringia where both Baldwin I of Jerusalem and Baldwin II originated. His biases in favor of the Lothringians and against Tancred are quite notable at times, making this battle between the two an affair that he was unlikely to judge fairly.

André Beaumont, Jr., in his defense of Albert’s text as a valuable source, concedes that

38 Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 17 n.78.

39 For defenses see Fulcher of Chartres, 2.31.1-2.33.2; for Tripoli see Fulcher of Chartres, 2.40.1-2.41.4.

40 The very next section is Bohemond leaving Antioch to return to France which Fulcher himself dates at 1105. Given that Tancred is clearly in charge at Tell Bashir, this mistake seems less innocent. See Fulcher of Chartres, 2.29.1.

41 William of Tyre, 11.8.

42 Albert of Aachen, 11.16-23.

21

certain inaccuracies and a general animus towards Tancred certainly taint the text.43

While Beaumont may be correct that the bulk of Albert’s work is useful, most of the

problems that Beaumont lists come from the battle of Tell Bashir.44 Many of the

inaccuracies were unavoidable pitfalls caused by writing about events in Syria without

leaving western Europe. For example, Albert was entirely unaware that Baldwin II’s

captor Jokermish had died in 1107 and had been replaced by Jawuli prior to the battle in

1108.45 Albert also tends to report monstrously large forces compared to his contemporaries, but exaggerations are bound to happen as the knights who relayed

information made their long march back to Europe.46 The errors and authorial biases that

concentrate in this portion of his text diminish Albert’s reliability regarding Tell Bashir.

This inadvertently raises the value of Fulcher’s narrative in modern eyes as his terse account has less obviously wrong with it.

Two remaining Latin chroniclers, Ralph of Caen and Walter the Chancellor, would have given a much needed Antiochene view on the situation, but the battle of Tell

Bashir (1108) falls between the abrupt end of Ralph’s account (1105) and the start of

Walter’s account (1114). Ralph’s silence is the more shocking of the two because his tale focused on Tancred who lived until 1112. It may be that trying to positively spin

Tancred’s illegal withholding of Edessa from Baldwin II could have stymied Ralph’s

43 Andre Beaumont, Jr., “Albert of Aachen and the County of Edessa,” in The Crusades and Other Historical Essays: Presented to Dana C. Munro by His Former Students, ed. Louis Paetow, 101-138 (Freeport: Books for Libraries Press, 1928), 137-138.

44 Beaumont, “Albert of Aachen,” 127-129 and 134.

45 Albert of Aachen, 10.38; Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 20 n.104.

46 Albert says Mawdud brought an army of 200,000 troops to attack the Christians. See Beaumont, “Albert of Aachen,” 134; Albert of Aachen, 11.38.

22

conclusion, thereby causing the unexplained abrupt ending of the Gesta Tancredi.47

Regardless, Antiochene silence, Albert’s obvious errors, and William’s copying combine

make Fulcher’s account the dominant Latin narrative despite its dismissiveness regarding the details surrounding the battle. Whether by ignorance or obfuscation, not even one of the Latin authors noted that Tancred had help from Ridwan, nor that Baldwin had help

from the Armenians. All told, the Latin sources give a very poor account of the battle.

2.2. Pastoring the Flocks: Eastern Christian Sources

Eastern Christian sources demonstrate similar variance in opinion. Matthew of

Edessa, the lone Armenian source for the battle, clearly struggles to justify the actions of

the Frankish nobility. He lived in or near Edessa in the early twelfth century and hated

the greedy Antiochene governor, Richard, who ruled legally during Count Baldwin II’s

imprisonment and illegally for a period thereafter.48 Uniquely among Christian sources,

Matthew also relates that a local Armenian lord, Kogh Vasil, supported Baldwin II

against Tancred’s illegal retention of Edessa.49 However, Matthew sees a conflict in

justice because Baldwin allied with a Turk, Jawuli, in his otherwise righteous quest.50

This moral conundrum leads to a short retelling not unlike Fulcher’s. Matthew was either oblivious to Ridwan’s alliance with Tancred, or he deliberately ignored it to relate a clear message regarding the evils of allying with Turks. The account is very moralistic: the

47 Scholars are unsure if the end is just missing or if Ralph died before finishing, see Ralph of Caen, “Gesta Tancredi,” in The Gesta Tancredi of Ralph of Caen: A History of the Normans on the First Crusade, trans. Bernard Bachrach and David Bachrach (Burlington: Ashgate, 2005) 12-13.

48 Matthew of Edessa, 2.40.

49 Ibid., 3.39.

50 Asbridge, Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 114.

23

Armenian clergyman’s narrative focuses on explaining who should be blamed rather than

what happened. Though his work is very useful, its portrayal of Tell Bashir is also highly

distorted by the pastoral tone of the author.

Michael the Great (d. 1199), a late twelfth-century Syrian patriarch from

Melitene, partially tracked these events in his Syriac Chronicle.51 According to his chronicle, the alliance between Edessa and Mosul was born out of noble sentiments, not political expedience. Jawuli was initially so impressed by Joscelin offering himself for ransom in Baldwin’s place that he forgave a portion of the ransom money. Later,

Joscelin’s martial skill so impressed Jawuli that that he forgave the rest of Baldwin’s ransom and the two became close friends and allies.52 Confusingly, Michael does not

address the battle of Tell Bashir in his own voice, but an appended Arabic section in his

work gives a very brief rundown of the events, so brief as to give very little insights to

the battle. It does however return to the friendship between Joscelin and Jawuli as the

driving cause of the battle.53 Additionally, Michael’s account makes obvious chronological errors, as he says Baldwin II went straight from imprisonment in Mosul to

Jerusalem, where he was made king; two events thought to be separated by a decade.54

On the whole, Michael’s work shows much confusion for a near contemporary living so

geographically close to events. In many ways Michael is just as moralizing as Matthew:

the moral and manly virtue of Joscelin frees his lord and future king, Baldwin.

51 Melitene (modern Malatya, Turkey) is about 125 miles NNW of Edessa (modern Sanliurfa, Turkey).

52 Michael the Syrian, 15.10.

53 Ibid., 15.14.

54 Ibid., 15.10.

24

Written in the half century after Michael’s death, an anonymous Syrian chronicle

from Edessa mirrors much of Michael’s story about Jawuli and Joscelin. However, this author continues, positing that Baldwin and Joscelin started the war to avenge the ravages of Tancred’s rapacious relative, Richard.55 Both of these Syriac narratives should be

doubted, as they both seem highly improbable.56 There is a possibility that chivalric virtues caused Jawuli to forgo ransom payments while he was trying to figure out how to resist the Sultan’s army, it is just an extremely remote possibility that pictures Jawuli as an immensely impractical man. While it fails to further any understanding of the battle of

Tell Bashir, the anonymous chronicler’s focus on Edessa and vitriol toward Richard certainly reinforces Matthew’s claims regarding the unpopularity of Richard’s rule and taxes. Thus, both Edessan sources express a similar frustration and loathing regarding the interim ruler.

Luckily, Gregory Bar Hebraeus’s mid-thirteenth century chronicle, contains a very different narrative. While not a patriarch, Gregory was the bishop of Melitene, giving him a geographic and authoritative perspective similar to Michael’s.57 However,

that is where the similarities end. Unlike his Christian brethren, Gregory prominently

includes Ridwan in the battle and sees the conflict as entirely grounded in Turkish politics.58 This later claim makes him more similar to Muslim sources than his co-

55 Anonymous Syrian Chronicle, 80.

56 Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 14 n.59.

57 Judah Segal, “Syriac Chronicles as Source Material for the History of Islamic Peoples,” in Historians of the Middle East, ed. Bernard Lewis and Peter Holt (London: Oxford University Press, 1962), 256-257.

58 Gregory Bar Hebraeus, 10.274.

25

religionists; no doubt partially due to his living securely under Islamic rule. Unlike in

Michael’s time, Melitene was much more solidly under Turkish control as neither the

Crusaders nor the Armenians could threaten the city. For all the interesting differences to

his contemporaries, Gregory’s narrative suffers from being short. Not obfuscating like

Fulcher, Gregory says little because the battle simply does not play a major role in his

narrative. That said, his chronicle does confirm many aspects of Ibn al-Athir’s account.

Together the Eastern Christian sources are an odd group. Matthew, Michael, and

the anonymous Syrian write very morally instructive accounts. What comes through from

these sources is a desire to tell a resonating story that leads the audience to proper

behavior. Matthew is focused on dissuading his Armenian audience from having friendly

relations with the Turks, while the two Syriac authors show Joscelin’s selfless virtue

undoing the Antiochene plan to keep Edessa by leaving Baldwin II in captivity. For those

three, the battle is mentioned not as an important event in and of itself, but so the author

can teach the audience some lesson. Gregory is an interesting outlier that does not fit in

with his co-religionists much at all when it concerns this battle, as his version is an

Arabic account that just happens to be written in Syriac.

2.3. Blinded by the Polis: Arabic Sources

Arab sources of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries tend to focus on localized

history and politics related to their respective cities.59 This greatly limits the efficacy of

most of these sources for anything not directly tied to their city. For example, the only

Arab source from Syria near the time of the battle is the twelfth-century Damascus

59 Claude Cahen, “The Historiography of the Seljuqid Period,” in Historians of the Middle East, ed. Bernard Lewis and Peter Holt (London: Oxford University Press, 1962), 59-60.

26

chronicler, Ibn al-Qalanisi (d.1160). His work is well valued and considered one of the

best Arabic sources on early Crusades-era Syria, so he should have been a great source for this battle in 1108.60 Inexplicably, he not only fails to mention the battle of Tell

Bashir, but he seems completely unaware that Baldwin and Joscelin were captured at

Harran in 1104.61 His exuberance regarding the Islamic victory at Harran, but complete

silence about the Edessans, indicates that he was likely ignorant of these events, not

deliberately silent.

Unfortunately, the thirteenth-century Damascus chronicler Sibt ibn Jawzi relies

entirely on Ibn Qalanisi for this period, and thus also skipped the battle. The twelfth-

century Arab noble Usamah ibn Munqdiqh of Shaizar also fails to mention the battle,

despite frequent interactions with Tancred and Ridwan near the time of the battle.62 Their

collective silence hints at the level of informational isolation between Islamic cities of the

twelfth century. Ibn al-Qalanisi in Damascus seems as genuinely ignorant of some events

happening north of Aleppo as Albert of Aachen was in Europe. Their concerns rarely

went beyond events that had a direct impact on their cities.

Luckily, Aleppo and Mosul did produce chronicles in this era, so there are some

sources that mention the battle. Writing from Aleppo in the early thirteenth century, Ibn

al-Adim presents a very Aleppo-centric version of the battle. In fact, it is so very Aleppo-

centric that it comes across more as a story that Aleppo’s ruler, Ridwan, wanted people to

60 Francesco Gabrieli, “The Arabic Historiography of the Crusades,” in Historians of the Middle East, ed. Bernard Lewis and Peter Holt (London: Oxford University Press, 1962), 102-103.

61 Ibn al-Qalanisi, 59-87.

62 Usamah wrote his own reflections not a chronicle, so his omission is entirely understandable.

27

believe than an attempt to relate actual events.63 According to Ibn al-Adim, Jawuli and

Joscelin conspired to capture both Aleppo and Antioch. Given the sizable gap in military

power between Tancred and his veteran army in Antioch, compared to Baldwin II’s and

Joscelin’s unknown-but-probably-small forces, it seems very unlikely that Antioch was a target. Moreover, Ibn al-Adim relates that Jawuli (the enemy of Ridwan) feared the

Franks would unite and turn on him, so he charged the rear of his Edessan allies, crushed their forces, and fled.64 Ibn al-Adim gives Ridwan morally acceptable reasons to ally

with Tancred while Ridwan’s enemy, Jawuli, is thoroughly vilified as a traitor. Thus, Ibn

al-Adim’s account gives some insight into what Ridwan’s propaganda most likely looked

like. As no sources corroborate this version and it so obviously favors Ridwan, it is universally rejected.65 However, it does keep with the pattern seen above: local focus

dominates the narrative.

Ibn al-Athir breaks the local history trend of the thirteenth century; he writes a

universal history of the Islamic world, a style that had declined in popularity in Islam

over the preceding two centuries.66 Though he writes from Mosul—and thereby is most

interested in and best informed of Iraqi politics—Ibn al-Athir does present events

happening in other regions of the world.67 This breadth combined with great detail makes

63 Ibn al-Adim, 595-596

64 Ibid.

65 Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 20 n.97.

66 Françoise Micheau, “Ibn al-Athir,” in Medieval Muslim Historians and the Franks in the Levant, ed. Alex Mallet (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 59.

67 Ibid.

28

his work one of the best sources of the era.68 Compared to his Islamic or Christian

contemporaries, Ibn al-Athir wrote abundantly regarding the battle of Tell Bashir. He

views the battle as intimately connected to Saljuq imperial politics in Iraq. Like the other sources, Ibn al-Athir certainly has his biases, in his case for Imad ad-Din ibn Aqsunqur

(Zangi) and his descendants. The most notable critique of his work, pressed by Hamilton

Gibb, focuses on Ibn al-Athir’s biases against Salah ad-Din, the famous leader who broke from the Zangids shortly after he and his uncle had captured Egypt and who eventually retook Jerusalem.69 However, that critique has been mitigated by many and recently

overturned by Françoise Micheau.70 More importantly, even if Gibb were right, all of the drama with Salah ad-Din happens decades after Tell Bashir and thus has little impact on the relevant portion of his narrative.

The Arab sources offer little as a group because most of them seem ignorant of

the battle of Tell Bashir. The city-centric model that dominated this period limits the

usefulness of the sources most chronologically and geographically close to the event. Ibn

al-Adim’s extremely pro-Ridwan version of the battle likely derived from Ridwan’s

propaganda preserved in some other source used by Ibn al-Adim. It is unclear how prevalent such propaganda was and whether it could have had anything to do with the silence of other sources. It is certainly the case that Tughtakin, the ruler of Damascus from 1104 to 1128, would not have wanted the successes of either Ridwan or Baktash proclaimed in the city. Both were legal heirs to Duqaq and thereby to Damascus, which

68 Ibid., 52.

69 Hamilton Gibb, “Notes on the Arabic Materials for the History of the Early Crusades,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies 7, no.4 (1935), 743.

70 Micheau, “Ibn al-Athir,” 67-68.

29

made them enemies of the current regime. Such a hypothesis cannot be substantiated with

current evidence, but the coincidence merits thought. It is certainly possible that twelfth

century rulers did have some silencing effects on sources in addition to the distortion

caused by propaganda. Regardless of the causes, the Arab authors provide the most

haphazard coverage despite having the most sources for the period. Ibn al-Athir stands

out in this group not only in his coverage of this battle, but more generally for his wide

scope. His breadth of knowledge sets his work apart as “certainly one of the most

71 impressive achievements of premodern historiography in any culture.”

So, to summarize the condition of the primary sources for the battle of Tell

Bashir: the Latin sources are all either deceptively terse or unintentionally erroneous, the

Armenian and Syriac sources are mostly moralizing tales that sideline the battle, only two of the Arabic sources mention the battle at all, and one of them seems to have been duped by propaganda. Moreover, as Figure 3 shows, these sources do not agree about who was involved in the battle or why it happened. Obviously, this is a root cause for the lack of consensus about the battle among modern historians.

71 R. Stephen Humphreys, “Ta’rīkh,” in The Encyclopaedia of Islam, Volume 10, (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 279.

30

CHAPTER 3

RECONSTRUCTING THE PROCESS: METHODOLOGICAL CONCERNS

Despite the fact that Ibn al-Athir’s account is the least problematic of the sources, the causes from his narrative are absent from modern texts. Modern authors certainly do not ignore him; in fact he seems to be the most used source. While it can be hard to evaluate to what extent an author relies on a given source, Robert Nicholson’s abundant

footnoting makes it possible to evaluate his usage and extrapolate to others. In his 1954

biography of Joscelin of Edessa, Nicholson uses 61 footnotes to compile 161 individual

citations for his 2,300-word summary of the battle and its causes. Ibn al-Athir is cited

most often with 31 citations as compared to 80 citations for all 10 of the other primary

sources combined.72 The next most heavily cited primary source is Matthew of Edessa

with 17 citations, indicating that modern narratives might be relying on Ibn al-Athir

roughly twice as much as any other source.73

Moreover, many smaller points of modern consensus already match Ibn al-Athir.

As shown in Figure 1, every modern author includes all four antagonists, whereas among primary sources only Gregory and the Islamic sources clearly mention all four.74

Likewise, 66% of the contributing primary sources from Figure 3 view the Edessans as

72 Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 12-22.

73 Ibid.

74 See Figures 1 and 3.

31

instigating the battle in some manner (contra Ibn al-Athir), while only about 30% of

modern scholars from Figure 1 agree.75 Most importantly, Ibn al-Athir is the only source

that mentions multiple battles, which aligns with most in-depth modern accounts and

48% of all accounts surveyed.76 Clearly, Ibn al-Athir is a very well used source and modern scholars lean towards using his account. However, there are still no modern accounts of the battle that focus on Baktash and Saljuq politics the way that Ibn al-Athir does. Instead his account is diluted by the other accounts. Frequently, the struggle for

Edessa that the Latin sources relate is kept as an arching narrative by modern scholars, while details from Ibn al-Athir are lifted and repurposed to bolster the Latin story.

Fulcher’s simple narrative in particular finds resonance in the 77% of accounts that focus on the battle’s impact on the control of Edessa. But, as covered before, Fulcher is misdirecting his audience and has no desire to give a clear picture of the battle. Why should such a mixture be acceptable when there are good alternative accounts that are not so problematic? Do all available accounts need to be synthesized into one narrative? A methodological change is needed to prevent a collection of poor sources from outweighing the few good sources.

This chapter focuses on methodological problems that shape modern accounts of the battle. It examines how sources are used by authors to try to figure out what

methodological practice caused so much variance in modern accounts. Thomas

Asbridge’s skepticism concerning our knowledge of the battle in The Creation of the

Principality of Antioch is crucial to understanding standard modern methodology for

75 Gregory, Michael, and Ibn al-Athir agree, see Figures 1 and 3.

76 See Figure 1.

32

creating synthetic accounts. Finally, this chapter suggests a different methodology in the

hopes of making a more cohesive account of the Battle of Tell Bashir.

Scholars normally do not follow an explicit formula, so methodology must be

deduced backwards from works. As shown above, scholars rely heavily on Ibn al-Athir to

retell the battle of Tell Bashir. But, it is still unclear why modern syntheses ignore Ibn al-

Athir’s causes while using his details. Methodology is not talked about on a minute level

(like one battle) in works whose scope spans multiple lifetimes. Of all the works that

cover the battle, only Nicholson’s biographies (Joscelyn I and Tancred) and Asbridge’s

The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, are transparent and detailed enough in their

source usage to aid in reverse engineering methodology.

Nicholson cites every source that is relevant for just about every sentence. This

makes it relatively clear how he uses the sources to construct his version of events. He

presents a synthesized narrative but details out all discrepancies and disagreement with

extensive footnoting. Nicholson allows the convergence of sources to guide his own

narrative.77 When the primary sources come to loggerheads, Nicholson picks what he

sees as most likely and explains his choice in the footnotes.78 If none of the sources seem

exactly right he extrapolates to what he sees as most likely and explains his choice in

footnotes.

Asbridge is a bit more conservative in his usage of sources. An example from

Asbridge concerning the struggle for Edessa:

There is considerable variation in the narrative accounts of events after Baldwin regained his freedom. Perhaps most fundamentally, the sources disagree about the

77 Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 14 n.59, n.62.

78 Ibid., 12-22.

33

immediate fate of the city of Edessa. Albert of Aachen recorded that Tancred returned the city to Baldwin on his release, but according to Fulcher of Chartres and Ibn al-Athir, Tancred refused to relinquish his hold over Edessa. It is impossible to say with any certainty whether or not the city was returned at this point, but in any case a dispute continued to develop with Tancred on the one side and Baldwin and Joscelin on the other. Even if Tancred did give up Edessa, he did not relinquish his hold on all the lands in the county. Matthew of Edessa noted that the conflict between the two sides began because Tancred ‘would not return their lands.’79

Asbridge continues a point-by-point coverage of the disagreements between sources and displays great restraint by staying within his epistemic bounds and claiming that little can be known about the battle. However, not all sources find equal representation in

Asbridge’s work. Less trustworthy sources, like the anonymous Syrian chronicler, receive less attention. Not only does he not mention that chronicle in relation to Tell

Bashir, Asbridge only cites the anonymous chronicle twice in his entire book.80 This is not without cause; some sources are simply less credible than others. After isolating the more credible ‘first tier’ sources, Asbridge tries to combine these narratives into one coherent story by comparing remaining texts. If reliable sources are wildly discrepant— as they are for Tell Bashir—Asbridge concludes that there is very little solid evidence for what happened.

The main difference between these works is the disagreement about the acceptability of a lack of convergence. Asbridge is cautious and explains why all paths are treacherous when good sources disagree. This is the epistemically conservative path that tends to be more reliable but less informative to the average reader. When Nicholson finds discrepancies, he paves ahead tries to explain to his audience why his path is the

79 Asbridge, Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 112.

80 Ibid.

34

correct one. This is a more epistemically permissive approach that gives a good story but

may deviate from the sources. I believe these authors represent close to the two poles for

synthesizing accounts, though admittedly Runciman and possibly others may be much

more permissive than Nicholson.81

This synthesis by convergence process can be better explained in algebraic form.

Suppose a given event has two sources from culture ‘a’ (a1, a2) and three sources from

culture ‘b’ (b1, b2, b3). When analyzing the event, scholars compare a1, a2, b1, b2, and b3

with the intent of identifying a convergence of similarities to guide them to a likely story.

Thus, if b2 relates fact ‘x’ about a given event while a1, a2, b1, and b3 relate fact ‘y’, and x and y are incompatible, then scholars discount b2 regarding that event. If all ‘a’ sources agree with each other, yet disagree with all ‘b’ sources that likewise agree with their set, then scholars note a cultural division in the primary sources. If an author finds b3 to be

untrustworthy, the author simple removes b3 from the equation. The basic logic of this

system is very straightforward: the more sources in agreement about the facts in an event

(convergence), the stronger the synthesized account.

When convergence cannot be had, most scholars do as Nicholson did and guess a

median point that best approximates what the author thinks convergence should have

been (c1).82 Variation between authors occurs because historians do not all trust the same

sources to the same extent and do not all extrapolate to the same c1. Variation is normally

not a problem, because variance is normally small. However, modern accounts of Tell

Bashir vary wildly about even the most basic points of the battle. The narrative that

81 The line between making errors and being epistemically permissive with sources is proportionally more difficult as the number of citations decrease.

82 Ibid., 15 n.65-67.

35

authors end up synthesizing is incoherent because it is mostly c1 instead of genuine

source convergence. This extrapolation method partly accounts for the heavy impact

Fulcher has despite his terseness as William’s repetition doubles the value of Fulcher’s

version. The solution for Tell Bashir (and similar cases) lies in changing how the texts are

evaluated, which will devalue raw convergence.

First, primary sources need to be evaluated according to their respective

contextual merits. In terms of the abstract example above, scholars must judge how well

a1, a2, b1, b2, and b3 each relate to knowledge of other events, not just how many agree

with each other. Accounts should also be evaluated on an event-by-event basis, not line by line or general evaluation as is common now. This way the general creditability of source has a reduced impact on its reporting of specific events while also not promoting lines form a source that seems generally confused about the event. Questions need to be asked of each source’s account like: Does the account drastically challenge how we view related characters and events? Does this account adhere to chronology and content of other events where there is a solid consensus with source convergence?

At this point, the basic rules of examination from textual criticism should be cross applied where plausibly applicable. Repetitions, simplifications, and extrapolations should be sidelined if and only if the reader is confident that the later author changes nothing of substance from the earlier author.83 This prevents cases like Fulcher’s, where

repetition unduly steers extrapolation off course. If some sources (a1, b2, and b3) match

reasonably well with accepted accounts of other events, then scholars should refilter with

different criteria before synthesizing accounts, and ask: Are these accounts comparable in

83 Paul Mass, Textual Criticism, trans. Barbara Flower (Oxford: Clarendon Press 1958).

36

size? Are these accounts comparable in quality or quantity of detail? If they are not,

scholars need to account for that disparity and give the more detailed account preeminence. This is analogous to the rule of lectio difficilior that should when used

conservatively to help bring the best text forward. It should never be the case that a small, poorly constructed account is given as much weight as a longer, more detailed account. It must be stressed, however, that this is not a simple request to just use the biggest, most detailed accounts. Those factors are the last to be considered and only affect the clout given to credible accounts that coherently mesh with other accounts of other events. The coherence of the source with knowledge of other events must take preeminence; only then can good synthetic accounts be made.

If the sources for Tell Bashir were treated in such a way, most accounts would have a much reduced impact of the synthesized account. Albert of Aachen’s general credibility bears little weight on this topic where it just so happens that most of his errors converge. Fulcher of Charters, William of Tyre, and Mathew of Edessa present overly aggressive versions of both Baldwin II and Jawuli that are incongruous with our knowledge of the two capable leaders. Michael the Syrian and the anonymous Syrian both give fantastically implausible versions that are not coherent with other versions, while Ibn al-Adim suffers likewise from presenting implausible propaganda. Between Ibn al-Athir and Gregory Bar-Hebraeus, Ibn al-Athir says much more and therefore should drive the narrative with Gregory acting as the second most used source. The other sources should be used to bolster Ibn al-Athir’s narrative when they give unique insights or certain details that he lacked. The plot arc should stick to Ibn al-Athir and Gregory Bar

37

Hebraeus whenever possible because we have every reason to believe that they are the two most reliable sources for this battle.

38

CHAPTER 4

THE ACCOUNT OF IBN AL-ATHIR

Given that Ibn al-Athir’s account of the battle of Tell Bashir interlaces with the imperial Saljuq politics, his account of Iraq and Syria provides necessary background for the battle. While the Saljuqs came to power in the mid-eleventh century, little of their reign was peaceful. During the 1050s sectarian violence between Isma’ili Shiites and

Sunnis repeatedly tore Baghdad apart.84 Though the violence lessened under Saljuq rule, theologically driven riots still were not uncommon between 1050 and 1090.85 Then in

1092 a particularly vicious civil war started among the Saljuqs. Around that same time, a secretive sect of militant Shiites called Batinis rapidly grew through intrigue and assassinations. These “hidden” Shiites were an offshoot of Isma’ilism but were rarely well defined in the relevant primary texts especially in the early stages of their existence

(1095-1100).86 Ibn al-Athir attributed many evil things to the Batinis, from brigandage and assassinations to the systematic slaughter of civilians.87

84 Ibn al-Athir, 9.561, 9.576, 9.577, 9.593, 9.597, 9.607, 9.611, 9.614, 9.624, 9.646.

85 Ibid., 10.33, 10.63, 10.104, 10.107, 10.124, 10.157, 10.164, 10.170, 10.176-177.

86 For a full background of this group see Bernard Lewis, “The Isma’ilites and the Assassins,” in A History of the Crusades, Volume I: The First Hundred Years, edited by Marshall W. Baldwin and Kenneth M. Setton (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1958), 99-132.

87 Ibn al-Athir, 10.313-323.

39

The eradication of this sect was reported to be high priority for most Saljuq

leaders, as the Batinis, not the crusaders, were the seen as the largest threat to society.88

Deborah Tor posits that the Batinis might have been far less disruptive than the sources

portray, because the Saljuqs themselves would blame the minority sect for their own dirty

deeds.89 Tor’s theory is helped by fact that the Batinis became prominent during a period

when it seems the Turks were actively fighting each other by all means available.90 The

civil war of 1092 was actually started by the assassinations of both Sultan Malikshah and

his vizier, Nizam al-Mulk.91 These civil wars aided the Byzantines’ reclamation of large

parts of Anatolia and contributed to the success of the First Crusade.92 But this was not

the only time the Saljuqs had a civil war; in fact such family conflicts were regular

occurrences.

Following Ibn al-Athir’s account for this period, it becomes clear that any

member of the Saljuq family could vie for the title of sultan, and the reason why civil

wars after 1092 were so devastating was that the Saljuq family had become quite large by

88 Ibid., 10.322.

89 Deborah Tor, “A Tale of Two Murders: Power Relations between Caliph and Sultan in the Saljuq Era,” Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 159, no. 2 (2009): 279-297.

90 Carole Hillenbrand, “1092: A Murderous Year,” in Proceedings of the 14th Congress of the Union Européenne des Arabisants et Islamisants (1995): 282.

91 Hillenbrand sees many groups as having sufficient motive to cause one or both of the murders, see “1092,” 281.

92 For more background on the Saljuqs and these civil wars see Aziz Basan, The Great Saljuqs: a History (New York: Routledge, 2010), 98-121.

Figure 4: Barkyaruq d. 1105, sickness/assassin Sulayman Saljuq Family Tree Malik Shah Muhammad d. 1118, sickness d. 1092, assassin Ahmed Sanjar d. 1157 Tughril Beg Alp Arslan Arslan Arghun Mahmud d. 1094, smallpox d. 1063 Mikail d. 1072, d. 1097, murdered execution Chagri Beg accident Buribars Mankubars d. ?, imprisoned (Muhammad) d. 1095, strangled (Arslan Arghun) Saljuq Tekesh d. 1094, drowned (Barkyaruq) Ridwan d. 1113 Tutush Duqaq d. 1104, sickness/assassin d. 1095, battle Baktash d. ?, imprisoned (Muhammad) Qavurt Beg (Barkyaruq) Abu Talib d. 1095, strangled (Ridwan) d. 1073, strangled Arslan Sultanshah Bahram d. 1095, strangled (Ridwan) (Malikshah) d. 1084 Turanshah Tiranshah d. 1101, executed (Arslanshah)

Qutalmish Kirmanshah Arslanshah d. 1064, battle (Alp Arslan) Ahmed d. 1106, battle (Jawuli Saqao) Sulayman KEY d. 1086, battle Fought to succeed Tughril Beg (Tutush) Qilij Arslan Fought to succeed Alp Arslan d. 1107, Fought to succeed Malik Shah battle (Jawuli Saqao) Killed by family for Regional politics Malik Shah d. 1116 Bold Masud d. 1156 Name Held title of sultan 40

41

that time.93 Figure 4 highlights this effect by showing a fraction of the Saljuq family that

was most involved in these civil wars. Every generation had leaders fighting to succeed

their father, brother, uncle, or cousin. Some of these wars were quick decisive affairs—

like Malikshah’s defeat of Qavurt Beg—and had little effect of the Saljuq holdings. The

wars after 1092 were not so short; they devastated many regions and sapped the coffers

of the sultans.94 According to Ibn al-Athir, these wars allowed emirs to become overly powerful as they had a seller’s market for their loyalty and service.95

The combination of wars, disloyal emirs, frequent assassinations, and sectarian

violence made 1090-1110 a rather tumultuous time. Trust was rare and political intrigue

was very common. Out of this mess of civil wars, Sultan Muhammad eventually emerged

the victor. His treatment of the many emirs who were overly powerful or supporters of

his half-brother Barkyaruq had a direct effect on the events of Tell Bahir. This chapter

lays out the background causes for the battle, with focus on the characters that had a

direct role in the battle of Tell Bashir. Section 4.1 explains the situation of the sons of

Tutush after their father’s failed coup against Sultan Barkyaruq. Both Ridwan and

Baktash were at the battle, though neither is usually given much of a decisive role in the

affairs leading to the battle. The next section concerns Sultan Muhammad’s relations with

his powerful emirs and family rivals once the war with Barkyaruq was over and how

those policies shaped events towards Tell Bashir. 4.3 focuses directly on Jawuli Saqao

93 For details about the early phase of this civil war see Jürgen Paul, “Arslan Arghun – Nomadic Revival?” in Seljuqs: Politics, Society, and Culture, ed. Christian Lange and Songül Mecit (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2011), 99-116.

94 Ibn al-Athir, 10.307-308.

95 Ibid., 10.369-370.

42

and his relation to the Saljuqs through the civil war up until 1108. Section 4.4 addresses

on the Frankish struggle over the county of Edessa, while 4.5 finally covers the battle of

Tell Bashir itself.

4.1. Reclaiming Their Father’s Legacy: The Sons of Tutush

The Saljuq sultanate became the chief protector of the Abbasid caliphs in the mid-

eleventh century.96 While the Saljuqs did proclaim heirs, civil wars were common following the death of a ruler as any male in the Saljuq line could be sultan so long as he had the support and power to hold the office. 97 After his brother Malikshah’s death in

1092, Tutush challenged his nephews for the throne. Ultimately, Barkyaruq defeated his

uncle, but Tutush’s sons persisted in their father’s claims. As Tutush’s base of power was

Syria, his sons tried to entrench their own authority there.

Tutush had intended his son Ridwan to succeed him but his untimely death

complicated that wish. Ridwan seized power in Aleppo and began to solidify his control

by imprisoning two of his half-brothers. However, the next oldest brother, Duqaq,

escaped to Damascus where he was made the ruling prince.98 The two brothers

imprisoned by Ridwan, Abu Talib and Bahram, were killed on his orders, while the third,

Baktash, resided with or was imprisoned by Duqaq.99 Ridwan and Duqaq quickly became

96 Ibid., 9.609-610.

97 Basan, The Great Saljuqs, 98-121; Paul, “Arslan Arghun,” 99-100.

98 Ibn al-Athir, 10.246-248.

99 Ibn al Athir mentions the imprisonments but the executions come from primarily from Ibn al-Qalanisi and Ibn al-Adim, see Crawford, “Ridwan the Maligned,” 136-137 and El- Azhari, The Saljuqs of Syria, 159. Ibn al-Athir later mentions Ridwan killing his brothers after at death in 1113, see Ibn al-Athir, 10.499. The means by which Baktash came into Duqaq’s custody are a complete mystery, the first mention of him is by Ibn al-Qalanisi is

as Duqaq’s prisoner while Ibn al-Athir makes no mention at all of any imprisonment but

43

hostile toward each other, and a small civil war between them erupted. Once the crusaders arrived, these two princes found themselves governing isolated provinces with limited resources and constant harassment from both the Franks and each other.

Importantly, each maintained their own title as the chief ruler second to the caliph, thereby eschewing support from their cousins to the east.100

Duqaq’s story is less relevant for this narrative, but his unexpected death in 1104

brings an important character into the spotlight.101 Upon Duqaq’s death, his atabeg

Tughtakin, placed Duqaq’s infant son, Tutush, on the throne.102 However, within the year

Tughtakin considered his decision unwise and made Duqaq’s younger brother, Baktash,

master of Damascus.103 None of the sources specify how Baktash managed to escape the

fate of his younger brothers who died at Ridwan’s orders, but somehow he wound up in the custody of Duqaq. After a short time, Tughtakin again rethought his position and decided to send Baktash to re-take al-Rahba on the Euphrates while he restored the infant

Tutush as the ruler of Damascus.104

also gives no information for how Baktash came to be with Duqaq, see Ibn al-Qalanisi, 63, and Ibn al-Athir, 10.375-376.

100 Ibn al-Athir, 10.269.

101 Duqaq’s death came abruptly and at a young age like so many others in the Saljuq family. The sources do not mention foul-play, but it is difficult to imagine that so many members of the family just happen to get sick during war times. See El-Azhari, Saljuqs, 178.

102 An atabeg is a tutor and mentor to a Saljuq prince and are usually also stepfathers to them. For Tughtakin’s actions, see Ibn al-Athir, 10.375.

103 Ibid., 10.376.

104 For a map of locations see figure 5.

44

When he returned successfully, Baktash’s position was quite tenuous. His mother

warned him that Tughtakin would likely kill him if he stayed in Damascus.105 Near the

end of 1104, Baktash went with Aytegin al’Halabi, the emir of Bosra and trusted former servant of Tutush, to seek aid from King Baldwin I of Jerusalem to overthrow Tughtakin in Damascus.106 He quickly gave up on that project, but Ibn al-Athir then loses track of

Baktash for a short period:

They remained for a few days with him but on his part they saw only incitement to trouble-making and destruction in the Damascus region. When they despaired of his aid, they left him and set out through the desert to [al-Rahba]. Baktash took it but then left.107

Fortunately, Ibn al-Qalnisi’s account does fill in some gaps in Baktash’s story. While Ibn

al-Athir says Baktash left, Ibn al-Qalnisi also says that Baktash returned to al-Rahba after

some time and that when Jawuli took the town in 1107, Baktash became a dependent of

Jawuli Saqao.108 From there, Baktash’s story continues with Jawuli’s and becomes central to understanding the battle of Tell Bashir.

Tutush’s eldest son, Ridwan, was in a tough place in Aleppo as he faced enemies on all sides and had a growing number of Batini assassins inside Aleppo itself. This precarious position made Ridwan very weak, which in turn made it difficult to ask for

105 Ibn al-Athir, 10.376.

106 Aytekin had guarded Duqaq on his flight back to Aleppo after Tutush’s death in battle and he must have accompanied Duqaq down to Damascus when fleeing Aleppo. Given that Baktash was following his mother’s advice, Aytekin was probably very highly trusted by the family, see Ibn al-Athir, 10.248 and 10.376.

107 Ibid., 10.376.

108 Ibn al-Qalnisi, 79.

45

outside aid for fear that he would be replaced by any supposed ally.109 He also had made

the khutbah in his own name from the beginning of his reign so other members of the

royal family like Barkyaruq and Muhammad were unlikely to come to his aid.110 He tried

to expand his power on his own, but met with very little success. In 1105 Ridwan was

involved in two campaigns, the first of which was an opportunistic attack on the then

emir of Mosul, Jokermish. The second battle in 1105 was the battle of Artah where

Tancred defeated Ridwan, crippling Aleppo’s military strength and undoing any

advantages Aleppo may have had from the Muslim victory at Harran.111

After the battle of Artah, Ridwan conspired with the Batini assassins to his

southwest to overthrow Apamea and place the city under his own control. The plan

worked, but because Ridwan had too few troops, Tancred’s men took Apamea from him

109 El-Azhari, The Saljuqs of Syria, 134.

110 Ibn al-Athir (see, 10.246) states that the khutbah was made in Ridwan’s name as it had been in Tutush’s which means Ridwan came directly after the caliph in authority. Later when he changed the khutbah to the Fatimid caliph for four weeks (see, 10.269), no mention is made of adding Barkyaruq or Muhammad before his own name, thus implying he kept his name as second. Crawford (“Ridwan the Maligned,” 138) claims that Ridwan had Barkyaruq’s name before his own when he changed back to the Abbasids in 1097, but neither Ibn al-Athir, Ibn al-Qalanisi, Ibn Taghri-Birdi, nor Ibn Muyassar mention Barkyaruq at all in the khutbah. It is possible that Ibn al-Adim mentions Barkyaruq in the Arabic version of his work (which I do not have) that extends further into the eleventh century than the translation in Recueil des historiens des croisades. But even if that were true, the evidence is overwhelming from all the other accounts that Barkyaruq’s name was not added in 1097. Furthermore, his retention of the royal title explains in part his extreme hesitancy to allow any other authorities near his seat of power in Aleppo. He could not be safe with any faithful servant of Barkyaruq or Muhammad meddling in Syria. This may be a major factor why he allied to the Batinis and Franks who both lacked any loyalties to the sultans in Iraq or Persia. Special thanks to Dr. Maged Mikhail for translating portions of Ibn al-Qalanisi that were not covered in other translations.

111 Ibn al-Athir, 10.393-394.

46

just months after the coup.112 Though it strained relations with other Sunnis, continued

alliance with the Batinis was one of the few options available to Ridwan during this

time.113 However, new opportunities emerged when Qilij Arslan began his 1107

campaign to seize the sultanate; Ibn al-Athir records that Jawuli Saqao approached

Ridwan for an alliance against the invader.114 The sources are unclear, but scholars have guessed that somewhere—probably right after the battle of Artah (1105)—Ridwan

entered into a tributary relationship with Tancred which would have been needed to

secure Aleppo’s borders allowing Ridwan to fight Qilij Arslan.115 Ridwan accepted

Jawuli’s offer, but there is no evidence that this treaty lasted for long, as the two were at

war with each other within the year. The causes for this deterioration will be addressed

below.

4.2. Reestablishing Order: Sultan Muhammad’s War on Emirs

Thirteen years after Malikshah’s death, the civil wars that had plagued the Saljuq

empire were coming to a close. The war between Malikshah’s sons Barkyaruq and

Muhammad finally ended when Barkyaruq died of severe intestinal issues, which, given

the prevalence of assassinations at the time, may not have been naturally occurring.116

With his primary rival for the empire removed, Muhammad was able to divide his

112 Ibid., 10.408-410.

113 Crawford, “Ridwan the Maligned,” 139-140; El-Azhari, The Saljuqs of Syria, 126.

114 Ibn al-Athir, 10.428-429.

115 El-Azhari, The Saljuqs of Syria, 127; Stevenson, The Crusader in the East, 81.

116 He was 25 when he died of intestinal issues. Either he was incredibly unlucky or foul play—that was so very common at the time—may have caused his death. See Ibn al- Athir, 10.381.

47

attention between less powerful Saljuq contenders and his overly powerful emirs. Ibn al-

Athir states: “The sultanate had become a prize for ambitious men and an office without authority, the rulers being the dominated after having been the dominators.”117 By

switching between the royal contenders, many emirs had negotiated much more power

for themselves than had been acceptable in previous generations. Moreover, many lords

in Iraq and the Jazira had been quite loyal to Barkyaruq, making them longtime enemies

of Muhammad. The sultan needed justifications to remove these lords, so that he would

not publically be viewed as a murderer and tyrant. The easiest solution was to pit

troublesome emirs against other rivals.

But emirs were not the only problem. Muhammad did still have some cousins

who were rivals for the throne. One cousin, Mankubars, tried to rebel in 1105, but his

rebellion was short-lived as he was captured by intrigue and imprisoned for life.118 A

more distant cousin, Qilij Arslan, the grandson of Qutalmish, represented a long-standing divide in the Saljuq royal line. The descendants of Qutalmish lived in Anatolia and had been one of the primary rivals of Alp Arslan’s line.119 Sulayman advanced on his

cousin’s territory in 1086 and was killed by Tutush.120 Following in his father’s footsteps,

Qilij Arslan began marching on Mesopotamia in 1105. From Anatolia, he skirted north of

the crusaders to the city of Melitene, and from there to Harran and the Jazira.121

117 Ibid., 10.369.

118 Ibid., 10.398-399.

119 See Figure 4.

120 Ibn al-Athir, 10.147.

121 Ibid., 10.415.

48

Concerned by these movements, Muhammad gathered his most powerful emirs in Iraq to deal with the problem.

The leading men he called together were Emir Jokermish of Mosul, Emir Ayaz of

Baghdad, and Emir Sadaqa of Hilla. A vast majority of Iraq was owned by these three men making them a concern for the sultan. Moreover, Ayaz and Jokermish both had been proponents of the late Barkyaruq—in fact, Ayaz was Barkyaruq’s most trusted general.

Tensions had been high between those two emirs and Muhammad following Barkyaruq’s death. In February 1105, Ayaz negotiated a surrender and amnesty, but Muhammad stilled harbored concerns about his new emir’s loyalty.122 On the surface, the meeting to deal with Qilij Arslan was normal council meeting:

On [l April] the sultan summoned Emir Sadaqa, Ayaz and Jokermish and other emirs. He sent [a message] to them when they had assembled: ‘We have heard that Qilij Arslan ibn Sulayman ibn [Qutalmish] has attacked Diyar Bakr to conquer it and has sent [troops] from there to the Jazīra. It is necessary that you agree on whom to send to resist him in battle.’ The gathering said, ‘The only man for this is Emir Ayaz,’ to which Ayaz said, ‘Sayf al-Dawla Sadaqa ibn Mazyad and I ought to unite for this matter and repel this invader.’ This was reported to the sultan who replied with a summons for Ayaz, Sadaqa and the Vizier Sa’d al- Mulk, to arrange the matter at his court. They rose to go to him.123

Thus far events progressed exactly as a council meeting should, but there was a twist:

The sultan had prepared a group of his guard to kill Ayaz when he entered his presence. As he came in, one of them struck his head and separated it from his body. Sadaqa covered his face with his sleeve and the vizier fainted. Ayaz was wrapped in some sacking and thrown into the street near the Royal Palace.124

122 Ibid., 10.386-388.

123 Ibid., 10.388.

124 Ibid., 10.388-389.

49

50

The sultan’s reason was that he had suspected Ayaz of plotting against his own life.125

Ibn al-Athir dismisses that story as an unfortunate misunderstanding, thus preserving the

honor of both men. However, the context could not have been missed by the

contemporary audience; the sultan had sneakily executed his emir on the very first pretext

he encountered. Future events would confirm any concerns other emirs might have had

over the way Ayaz was removed from power.

Jokermish, the emir of Mosul caught the hint quite plainly. Having only come to

power in 1102, Jokermish solidified his position with his involvement in the Turkish

victory over the crusaders at the battle of Harran.126 It was at that battle that Baldwin of

Edessa was captured, and he would outlive both Jokermish and his successor while

imprisoned in Mosul, probably gaining some grasp of events going on around him. In

1105, prior to Barkyaruq’s death, Jokermish was defending his territory from

Muhammad’s army. Upon news of Barkyaruq’s death, Jokermish gathered his council:

So [Jokermish] consulted his emirs, who said, ‘When the sultan [Barkyaruq] was alive, we were secure and no one could invade our territory. Since he is dead, the people now have only this one sultan [Muhammad] and the best course is to enter under his allegiance.’127

Peace was made, but Jokermish seems to have had little intention of sticking with

Muhammad. In Qilij Arslan’s first foray into Mesopotamia, Jokermish’s men gladly

handed the city of Harran over to the aspiring Saljuq prince, as if they had been waiting

125 The map in figure 5 was made by the author. The original trace was taken from: http://www.floodmap.net/Elevation/CountryElevationMap/?ct=IQ. Elevation was simplified and locations were added with reference to Google Maps. All locations are approximations.

126 Ibn al-Athir, 10.342-343, 10.375.

127 Ibid., 10.384.

51

to welcome him.128 Additionally, Jokermish seems to have stopped paying his taxes, which prompted the sultan to replace him:

When Jokermish had returned from the sultan’s presence [when Ayaz was killed] to his lands, as we have recounted, he promised personal service and payment of tribute. However, once firmly settled in his lands, he did not carry out what he had said and found service and payment of tribute burdensome.129

Given other evidence, it seems that Jokermish was not just a dolt who decided taxes were

overrated. Ibn al-Athir informs us that, in 1104, Jokermish invested in repairing all the

defenses of Mosul prior to Sultan Muhammad’s attack.130 Furthermore, in Jokermish’s

eulogy, Ibn al-Athir says that, “[Jokermish] had built up and strengthened the walls of

Mosul, and had constructed a barbican and dug a moat, fortifying the city as much as he

possibly could.”131 Given that he died in late 1106 and had begun to withhold taxes after

Ayaz’s death in 1105, Jokermish probably spent the tax revenue on Mosul’s defenses. He

was likely preparing for another attack by Sultan Muhammad.

But the sultan did not come in person; instead, he sent Jawuli Saqao to remove

Jokermish from power. Jawuli’s backstory is essential to the larger narrative and will be addressed below, but his role in Jokermish’s demise must come first. Despite having fewer troops, Jawuli drew Jokermish out of Mosul by attacking an ally, the emir of Irbil.

Jokermish came with twice the force that Jawuli had, but Jawuli still won the battle and captured Jokermish.132 Then Jawuli moved on Mosul and began besieging the city

128 Ibid., 10.415.

129 Ibid., 10.422.

130 Ibid., 10.383.

131 Ibid., 10.424.

132 Ibid., 10.423.

52

(though with his small army it is more accurate to say he tried to negotiate an exchange

of Jokermish for Mosul). Unfortunately for Jawuli, Jokermish died in his captivity and

the mamluk that Jokermish left in charge offered the city to Qilij Arslan.133 Jokermish

was the second of the three powerful Iraqi emirs that Sultan Muhammad eliminated in as

many years.

Sadaqa, the remaining emir, was different from the others. He was very loyal to

Muhammad and also considered extremely pious. In his eulogy, Ibn al-Athir was downright effusive over the qualities of this Arab emir:

He was generous, mild, honest, very charitable and kind. He was ever a refuge for every unfortunate, meeting all who sought him out with kindness and courtesy. He welcomed and visited those who made their way to him. He was just. With him his subjects were safe and secure. His sexuality was restrained. He took only his one wife and had no concubines. So what would you expect about anything else? He extorted money from none of his deputies nor held them to account for an old offence. His men used to deposit their wealth in his treasury and had a free and easy way with him like sons with a father. No subjects have ever been known to love their emir as his subjects loved him. He was modest, long-suffering, knew a stock of poetry by heart and was eager for an interesting anecdote. God have mercy on him! He was indeed one of the ornaments of this world.134

But Ibn al-Athir also gives a very praiseworthy assessment of Sultan Muhammad, so how

did war between them come about? Ibn al-Athir places the blame for their falling out on the greed of the sultan’s underlings:

In due course [a general serving Sultan Muhammad] undermined their relationship. One of the things he said about him was, ‘Sadaqa’s power and position have grown great and his high-handedness has increased. He spreads throughout the state his protection for all who flee to him from the sultan. This is something that princes cannot tolerate from their children. If you were to send one of your men he could seize his lands and his wealth.’135

133 Ibid., 10.424; a mamluk is slave soldier trained for war from a young age.

134 Ibid., 10.449.

135 Ibid., 10.440.

53

The direct cause is reported as follows:

[Sadaqa] used to give protection to all who were fearful of caliph, sultan or any other. Sultan Muhammad was enraged at Abu Dulaf Surkhab ibn Kaykhusro[. . .] who fled from him and made for Sadaqa to seek asylum with him, which [Sadaqa] granted. The sultan sent [a message to Sadaqa asking him] to surrender [ibn Kaykhusro] to his deputies but [Sadaqa] refused and answered, ‘I cannot do it.’136

The conflict dragged out over the course of the year, at the end of which Sadaqa was defeated and killed in a battle that supposedly neither wanted to fight.137 While Ibn al-

Athir portrays both men as noble, the clear subtext is that the sultan was eliminating all of the powerful emirs that could cause trouble. In the cases of Ayaz and Sadaqa the justifications were weak, though Ibn al-Athir does Muhammad the honor of accepting those justifications even while presenting evidence that the justification left room for doubt.

The pattern is unmistakable: all of the powerful leaders in Iraq were killed and replaced within three years of Muhammad gaining control of the Saljuq state. It seems the sultan was looking to widen the gulf between his position and that of his subordinates.

In this way he was repairing the damage done by a decade of civil war. This reassertion of Saljuq imperial power has a profound effect on Jawuli and the battle of Tell Bashir.

4.3. Jawuli the Cunning: The Man at the Center of the Intrigue

Ibn al-Athir first mentions Jawuli as one of the few Turks that joined with Sultan

Barkyaruq after his defeat at the hands of his brother Sanjar in 1100.

Barkyaruq [. . . traveled] by the desert. He was sighted in certain places with seventeen horsemen and one dromedary. Later his company grew larger and he

136 Ibid., 10.431.

137 Ibid., 10.448.

54

came to have 3,000 horsemen, with Jawuli Saqao amongst others. He set out for Isfahan after a communication from the inhabitants, but Sultan Muhammad heard of this and got there before him, so he withdrew.138

He next surfaces as the emir of the Fars region (in today’s southern Iran). Jawuli had

been appointed governor by Barkyaruq and wanted to eradicate the Batini threat in his

region, but they were hard to find. His solution:

[Jawuli] concerted a plan with a group of his followers, who gave out that they were at odds with him. They left him and sought out the Batinis, pretending to be with them and of their views. They remained with them until they were trusted.

Then Jawuli announced that the emirs, the sons of Bursuq, were planning to attack him and take his lands and that he was determined to leave[. . .] his followers who were with the Batinis and in the plot said, ‘Let us go to where he will pass and seize him and what property he has with him.’ They set out with three hundred of their leaders and champions. When they met, Jawuli’s men in their ranks turned against them and put them to the sword.139

Given that this how he introduced Jawuli, Ibn al-Athir clearly wants to convey that

Jawuli was a cunning general.

We know from an update on the civil war in 1104, that Jawuli stayed loyal to

Barkyaruq, as his province of Fars was listed as still loyal to the sultan. The next time Ibn

al-Athir explicitly mentions Jawuli Saqao, he was defending his province from a

replacement, Mawdud, sent by Sultan Muhammad. Ibn al-Athir notes that Jawuli was harsh and unpopular, so when he was besieged by the sultan’s army, Jawuli had little

option but to submit himself directly to the sultan. Muhammad accepted his surrender and

assigned him Jokermish’s fief with orders to attack the Franks in Syria.

Previously Jawuli had governed the lands between Khuzistan and Fars, where he remained for two years and repaired and fortified their castles. He ruled the people wickedly, cutting off hands and noses and blinding eyes. After

138 Ibid., 10.297-298.

139 Ibid., 10.319-320.

55

Muhammad became well established in the sultanate, Jawuli was fearful of him. The sultan sent Emir Mawdud ibn Altuntakin to him but Jawuli resisted him behind his walls. Mawdud besieged him for eight months and then Jawuli sent to the sultan, saying, ‘I will not submit myself to Mawdud but if you send someone else I shall give up.’ The sultan sent him his ring by the Marshal of Horse, so Jawuli submitted and came to pay his respects at Isfahan. He met with all that he could wish for and was ordered by the sultan to march against the Franks to take their territory from them and was given Mosul, Diyar Bakr and all of the Jazira as his fief.140

While on the one hand this was quite generous, Muhammad was sending a crafty

supporter of Barkyaruq against one of the most powerful emirs in Iraq who had also been

a supporter of Barkyaruq.141 Regardless of the outcome between Jokermish and Jawuli,

Muhammad would be rid of a potentially disloyal emir. Moreover, Fars was clear of a

powerful and possibly disloyal foe in Jawuli.

As mentioned above, Jawuli defeated Jokermish. But before he could take Mosul,

Qilij Arslan advanced into Mesopotamia, intent on taking Mosul as per the offer he had

received. In 1107, Jawuli retreated while Qilij Arslan occupied Mosul and formally

proclaimed himself sultan by changing the khutbah to elevate his name above that of

Sultan Muhammad. Meanwhile, Jawuli took al-Rahba from Tughtakin and made an

alliance with Ridwan to fight Qilij Arslan.142 This is also the most likely time for Baktash

to have entered Jawuli’s service. Now, Ridwan’s motive might seem unclear at first, but

it is obvious from an imperial Saljuq point of view, with the understanding that Ridwan

had been a rebel for his entire reign. When he took his father’s place, the khutbah made

in Aleppo was made in Ridwan’s name, not Barkyaruq’s, which means that Ridwan

140 Ibid., 10.422.

141 Köhler, Alliances and Treaties, 95.

142 Ibn al-Athir, 10.428-429.

56

declared himself to be sultan. Even when he changed the khutbah briefly in 1096 for the

Fatimid caliph, Ridwan retained primacy over his cousin.143 Thus, when Qilij Arslan

declared himself sultan, he not only declared open war on Sultan Muhammad, but also on

Ridwan of Aleppo. Furthermore, Ridwan was particularly affected as Qilij Arslan was

quite popular in the western regions of the Saljuq empire, thus actively undermining

Ridwan’s authority.144 Despite Qilij Arslan’s advance into Iraq, Sultan Muhammad was not mentioned as having prepared to fight his cousin. Instead he was absorbed in his own affairs while three of his political enemies fought each other.145 He had no overwhelming

desire to see Jawuli succeed; he just wanted his enemies to be weakened through the

struggle.

In May 1107, the combined forces of Jawuli and Ridwan defeated Qilij Arslan.

Jawuli quickly took over the regions of Mesopotamia that had been ruled by Jokermish.

He also sent the captive son of Qilij Arslan, Prince Malikshah, to Sultan Muhammad as a

gesture of gratitude.146 This gesture was likely just an attempt to buy more time as Jawuli

knew he could not stay in the sultan’s good graces for long. He was now a quite powerful ex-supporter of Barkyaruq; his days were numbered. So while the conflict began to brew between Sultan Muhammad and Emir Sadaqa, Jawuli not only failed to send aid to the sultan he also tried to make an alliance with Sadaqa. That alliance never materialized and

143 See fn 108.

144 See the ease with which Harran and Mosul surrendered to him. Ibn al-Athir, 10.415, 10.427.

145 Ibid., 10.437.

146 Ibid., 10.430.

57

the sultan turned his army, led by Mawdud, to attack Jawuli in Mosul.147 Jokermish’s

fortification project now become important as Jawuli prepared for a siege of Mosul.

Jawuli gathered supplies and then placed the city on lockdown. He then left Mosul well

garrisoned and took his army to gather support.148 Mosul was about as defensible at this

point as any city could be. Thus Jawuli knew he had some time to gather an army . . . but

to what end?

As he tried to woo forces to his cause, the goal of his mission became clear. He

went to Ilghazi, his neighbor to the north that had vacillated between Barkyaruq and

Muhammad and had recently supported Qilij Arslan.

Jawuli left and took with him the Count, the lord of Edessa[. . .] to Nisibis, which at the time belonged to Emir Ilghazi ibn Artuq. He wrote to him, asked for a meeting and invited him to support him, both of them acting as one. He told him that their fear of the sultan ought to unite them in securing protection from him.149

Ilghazi did not unite with Jawuli, but this passage does highlight that Jawuli was acting

on just the rationale which I think should be inferred from Ibn al-Athir’s text. There was a legitimate threat to an emir of consequence. Having failed to win over Ilghazi, Jawuli

Saqao released Count Baldwin in exchange for money, prisoners, and military aid.150

Now, this taken alone might mislead a reader to think Jawuli was really desperate for any

ally, but as his story unfolds Jawuli clearly has much grander schemes than just saving

his fief of Mosul.

147 Ibid., 10.437.

148 Ibid., 10.458.

149 Ibid., 10.459 (emphasis mine).

150 Ibid., 10.460.

58

4.4. Edessan Interlude: The Fight over Lordship in the North

Ibn al-Athir records that Count Baldwin II of Edessa and Joscelin of Tell Bashir had a falling out with Prince Tancred of Antioch for his behavior both during and after their imprisonment. As mentioned in the survey of primary sources, it seems pretty obvious that Richard’s interim government in Edessa was exploitative and very unpopular. Moreover, Tancred showed no initiative to free either of the rightful leaders.

Nor did Tancred give up Edessa to Baldwin upon his release, so Baldwin left Antioch to seek counsel from his supporters.151 Keen to strike these political dissidents before

Baldwin had substantial forces, Tancred “attacked” Baldwin and Joscelin at Tell Bashir.

Tancred, ruler of Antioch, now marched against them with his troops to bring them to battle before they became powerful and assembled an army and before Jawuli could join forces with them to bring them support. They fought together but when the fighting was over, they met, feasted and conversed with one another.152

While Ibn al-Athir says the armies “fought” this must be taken in the context of the feast,

as it seems rather unlikely that large numbers of men would stop actively trying to kill

one another to instantly switch to feasting together. Beyond that, the so called battle has

no deaths, no tactics, and no victor. As a bare minimum, Ibn Athir reports whose forces

routed and who emerged victorious here. Moreover, every other source mentions only

one battle, which Ibn al-Athir would technically agree with if it were not for a very literal

interpretation of this passage. The last reason to doubt the battle is a very practical one.

Tancred was the most powerful lord in northern Syria; if he brought his army to bear on

151 Ibid., 10.461.

152 Ibid., 10.461.

59

Baldwin and the Armenians under Kogh Vasil it would have been shocking indeed if

Tancred did not win the pitched battle. More likely, there were some brawls while the

leaders talked and afterwards there was a feast. It may be that Tancred’s goal was not to

actually fight a pitched battle but to display his military might to remind Kogh Vasil that

fighting against Antioch would be unwise. While peace was maintained, little else was

settled at this engagement.

With each side having a decent idea of the other’s intentions, events escalated quickly.

Tancred retired to Antioch without having settled any matter as regards Edessa. The Count and Joscelin then went on a raid of Tancred’s forts and took refuge in the area controlled by Kogh Basil, an Armenian, who had with him a large body of apostates and others and who was the lord of Ra’ban, Kaysun, and other fortresses north of Aleppo. He supplied the Count with 1,000 cavalry from amongst the [Christianized Turks], and 2,000 infantry. Tancred moved to meet them and they argued about who was to control Edessa.153

Importantly, it does not say they waged war against each other; they amassed troops and

faced off while the leaders argued. It was in this debate that the Patriarch Bernard of

Antioch intervened and settled the conflict.

Their Patriarch [Bernard], who is for them like the Imam for the Muslims, whose authority is not to be opposed, acted as intermediary. Several [bishops] and priests bore witness that Bohemond, Tancred’s uncle, had said to him, when he planned to sail the sea and return home, that Edessa should be restored to the Count [Baldwin] when he was set free from captivity. Tancred duly restored it on [September 18th, 1108].154

Tancred was just politically outmaneuvered in these encounters. Baldwin avoided

pushing the conflict in Antioch where Tancred could arrest him and thwarted Tancred’s

pre-emptive strike at Tell Bashir. Then he provoked Tancred to raise his army and come

153 Ibid., 10.461

154 Ibid., 10.461-462.

60 in force to the lands of Kogh Basil (Baldwin’s ally), so that all the Christian lords in the region could bear witness to Patriarch Bernard’s ruling on the matter. Physical fighting was kept to a minimum, while political maneuver brought about the desired result for

Baldwin. As argued in chapter one, this is exactly what one should expect from Baldwin in these circumstances.

Thus, the Turks were not involved in this conflict, and there does not seem to have been a real battle among the Franks. The only physical altercation was followed by feasting and conversation, so probably was something more akin to a violent argument where blows were exchanged. Also, Ibn al-Athir makes no account of losses on either side, which again suggests that there was no proper battle. The second confrontation does not even allude to a battle but only to arguments mediated by Patriarch Bernard. Thus neither side of the scholarly debate regarding the number of battle at Tell Bashir is fully correct. Properly viewed, there are two conflicts but only one battle and that battle was not about Latin politics.

At this point, Baldwin focused on supporting Jawuli: he began freeing prisoners and sending money to the emir. A conflict erupted in Saruj on account of a Christian convert, which highlighted how much the count valued his new ally.

In Saruj there were three hundred indigent Muslims. Jawuli’s men repaired their mosques. The headman of Saruj was a Muslim who had apostatized. Jawuli’s men heard him speaking disparagingly of Islam, so they beat him and because of him there arose a dispute between them [the Turks] and the Franks. This was reported to the Count, who said, ‘This is no good either for us or for the Muslims,’ and he put him to death.155

Baldwin clearly goes beyond what one would expect of a crusader lord. And this is not the only time such confusing actions occurred between these allies. Shortly after Baldwin

155 Ibid., 10.462.

61

was freed, Jawuli also released Joscelin who had taken Baldwin’s place until a full

ransom was paid:

Jawuli took Joscelin from Qal’at Ja’bar and set him free, taking in his place his wife’s brother and the Count’s brother-in-law, and sent him to the Count to strengthen him and to urge him to free the prisoners and send the money and what he had guaranteed. When Joscelin reached Manbij he raided and sacked it, while he had with him a detachment of Jawuli’s men. They objected and called it treacherous behavior. [Joscelin] replied, ‘This city is not yours.’156

As several scholars point out, Joscelin displays a keen understanding of who Jawuli’s

enemies are here, as Manbij was ruled in Sultan Muhammad’s name.157 Between these

events we see a determined effort on the part of Baldwin and Joscelin to follow through

on their promises to Jawuli. The reasons for their vigor are not entirely clear, but after

covering the battle entirely I will try to piece the motives together.

4.5. The Battle

As for Jawuli, he continued on to al-Rahba where he drew quite a gathering of

Sultan Muhammad’s enemies.

[Jawuli] proceeded to al-Rahba, where [Badran] and [Mansur,] the sons of [Sadaqa], came to him. After the killing of their father they had been at Qal’at Ja’bar with Salim ibn Malik. They reached an agreement to help and support one another and Salim promised them both that he would go with them to Hilla. Their intention was to make Baktash ibn Tutush ibn Alp Arslan their commander. While they had this plan General Sabawa came to them. He had sought out the sultan who had assigned him al-Rahba as a fief, as we have mentioned. He met with Jawuli and advised him to go to Syria, for the land there was empty of troops since the Franks had conquered much of it. He told him that, if ever he aimed at Iraq while the sultan was there or nearby, he could not be sure that some evil would not come upon him. [Jawuli] accepted what he said and left al-Rahba.158

156 Ibid., 10.461.

157 Nicholson, Joscelyn I, 16; Grousset, Histoire des Croisades, 435.

158 Ibn al-Athir, 10.462 (emphasis mine).

62

Several important events took place at al-Rahba. First, the intention to make Baktash the commander is of prime importance, as he was a Saljuq prince who could become sultan.

But a bid for the sultanate is never even mentioned in other primary sources, much less modern retellings. Given Jawuli’s skill as a general, this rebellion would have been formidable if it had gotten off the ground. Second, General Sabawa had recently served in

Damascus and then Aleppo so he had credible intelligence for Jawuli. Moreover, he was one of Barkyaruq’s most vocal supporters and had a deep dislike of Sultan Muhammad so he had every reason to steer Jawuli on a good path. General Sabawa’s advice and the idea of raising up Baktash both needed Jawuli to go to Syria. There were fewer enemy forces there and Baktash would need a notable victory to solidify his claim. Additionally,

Ridwan would be an enemy of Baktash just as he had been for Qilij Arslan for the same reasons as before. Moreover, as he was not actively unpopular like Ridwan, Baktash stood a decent chance of uniting Damascus and Aleppo before pushing east to Baghdad.

This could have provided enough troops to relieve Mosul and possibly defeat the imperial army.

The decision was simplified when Ridwan’s allies attacked Jawuli’s allies. At the behest of Salim of Qal’at Ja’bar, Jawuli went to retake al-Raqqa in Syria from an Arab tribe allied to Ridwan.159 The siege at al-Raqqa went on for a few months, until Jawuli

decided the continued siege of the town was too much of a political cost to continue:

[Jawuli] sent to Salim, saying, ‘I am engaged in a project more important than this. I am face to face with an enemy, with whom I must concern myself rather than anyone else. I am planning to go down to Iraq. If my cause succeeds, then al-

159 Ibid., 10.463.

63

Raqqa and other places will be yours. I will not be distracted from this important matter by besieging five individuals of the Banu Numayr.160

Again, this is not a general trying to just save his own skin: Jawuli was clearly drawing up plans to head back to Iraq and put himself in a position to assign fiefs, i.e. a position like a vizier to Sultan Baktash. If the pattern seen above with Mankubars and Qilij Arslan holds, Baktash would be proclaimed sultan during Friday prayers after the capture of some important town. During this time Ridwan also captured a money shipment from

Tell Bashir to Jawuli’s army, further antagonizing relations.161 Just as tensions were coming to a climax, an envoy from Sultan Muhammad reached Jawuli:

Then there came to Jawuli Emir Husayn, the son of the Atabeg Qutlughtakin [. . .] The sultan sent him with Fakhr al-Din ibn ‘Ammar [of Tripoli which was currently under siege by crusaders] to repair his relations with Jawuli and to command the troops to march with Ibn ‘Ammar to wage Jihad against the infidels. He came to Jawuli, ordered him to surrender his lands and put his heart at rest regarding the sultan, guaranteeing him fair treatment, if he yielded his lands and declared his obedience and subordination. Jawuli answered, ‘I am the sultan’s humble servant and will obey him,’ and he had money and apparel of great value handed over to [Husayn] and said, ‘Go to Mosul and withdraw the army from the city. I will send with you someone who will deliver my son to you as a hostage, and let the sultan dispatch someone to take charge of the city and collect its taxes.’ Husayn did this and set out with Jawuli’s man. When they arrived at the army which was besieging Mosul, not yet having captured it, Husayn ordered them to withdraw. All agreed except for Emir Mawdud, who said, ‘I will only withdraw on the orders of the sultan,’ and he arrested Jawuli’s man and remained before Mosul until he took it [. . .] Husayn ibn Qutlughtakin returned to the sultan and put before him a good case on behalf of Jawuli.162

Jawuli says all the right things to the envoy, but then continues on his warpath to Syria.

Likely he was buying himself time, and Mawdud suspected as much when he refused to

160 Ibid., 10.463 (emphasis mine).

161 Ibid., 463.

162 Ibid., 10.463-464.

64

cooperate without the sultan’s express wishes. Jawuli’s response also provided the wily

commander with a backup option should events not go according to plan.

The closest city allied to Ridwan was Balis, just west of al-Raqqa and east of

Aleppo. Jawuli took the city in less than a week. Interestingly, Jawuli singled out and

executed the cadi (judge) of Balis.

Jawuli went to the city of Balis, arriving on [22 September 1108], but the populace resisted him. Those men of Prince Ridwan, the lord of Aleppo, who were there, fled. Jawuli besieged it for five days and took it after mining one of the towers, which fell on the sappers, killing several of them. He took the city and crucified a group of notables where the mine had been. He summoned the Cadi Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-’Aziz ibn Ilyas, who was a pious lawyer, and put him to death. Then he sacked the city and took a great amount of money.163

As the text specifically says Ridwan’s allies fled the city earlier and the notables seem to have been killed for the loss of the sappers, we are left with little reason why Ibn al-Athir singles out the cadi’s death. However, a cadi, as a representative of the caliph, could affirm the ascension of a new ruler by changing the khutbah; incidentally the exact thing that Jawuli needed to legitimize Baktash. 164 Thus, I think that the Cadi was killed for not

proclaiming Baktash to be sultan.

After the fall of Balis, Ridwan sent to Tancred for aid, claiming that “if [Jawuli]

conquered [Aleppo], the Franks would no longer maintain their presence in Syria.”165 As

covered in chapter 1, Tancred had a financial interest in keeping Ridwan in power, especially after losing the income from Edessa. Obviously, Tancred complied with

163 Ibn al-Athir, 10.464.

164 Joeseph Schacht, An Introduction to Islamic Law (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1982), 50-54; Bernard Lewis, From Babel to Dragomans: Interpreting the Middle East (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 83-85; Mathieu Tillier, “Judicial Authority and Qadis’ Autonomy under the Abbasids,” Al-Masaq 26:2, 119-131.

165 Ibn al-Athir, 10.464.

65

Ridwan’s request which prompted Jawuli to call Baldwin and Joscelyn to assist.166 This paints the aggression as squarely between the Turks, and we can see now that Jawuli was not desperate for help as modern accounts portray him; he had assembled a host of different leaders. And the march toward Aleppo had less to do with running from

Mawdud and the siege of Mosul than it did with following the best path for proclaiming

Baktash sultan.

Unfortunately for Jawuli, just as his forces were assembling, the army received news that Mosul had fallen to the imperial army.

In this state of affairs Jawuli received intelligence that the sultan’s army had conquered Mosul and seized his treasury and property. This distressed him greatly and many of his followers abandoned him, including Atabeg Zanki ibn Aqsunqur[. . .] He was left with a thousand horsemen but a large crowd of volunteers joined him and he camped before [Tell Bashir].167

Ibn al-Athir says that defeat was certain because the authority Jawuli was lost after Mosul had fallen.

Tancred drew near, leading 1,500 Frankish cavalry and 600 of Prince Ridwan’s followers, not counting the foot-soldiers. On his right wing Jawuli placed Emir Aqsiyan, Emir Altuntash al-Abari and others, and on the left wing Emir Badran ibn Sadaqa, General Sabawa, and Sunqur Daraz and in the center Count Baldwin and Joscelin, the two Franks. The battle commenced and the men of Antioch charged the Count. The fighting was fierce and Tancred drove the center from its position. Then Jawuli’s left charged the infantry of the lord of Antioch and slew a great many of them. The defeat of the Lord of Antioch seemed imminent but at that moment Jawuli’s men turned to the Count’s spare horses and those of Joscelin and other Franks. They mounted them and fled the field. Jawuli went after them to call them back but they did not return. His authority over them had been lost after Mosul had been taken from him. When he saw that they would not return with him, he took thought for himself, feared to stay and fled. The rest of his army then fled.168

166 Ibid., 10.465.

167 Ibid., 10.465 (emphasis mine).

168 Ibid., 10.465.

66

The leaders of the rebellion dispersed and Jawuli had to face a series of bad options. He

fled in secrecy to Sultan Muhammad to beg forgiveness, which was granted. However, the cost was that he had to hand over Baktash who was promptly imprisoned in Persia.

The General Sabawa went towards Damascus, Badran ibn Sadaqa to Qal’at Ja’bar and the son of Jokermish set out for Jazirat Ibn ‘Umar. As for Jawuli, he made for al-Rahba. A host of Muslims were killed and the lord of Antioch plundered their belongings and their baggage train. They suffered much from the Franks. The Count and Joscelin fled to Tell Bashir and a great number of Muslims sought refuge with them. They treated them well. They nursed the wounded, clothed the naked and sent them to their own lands [. . .] When he saw how things were, Jawuli realized that he was able to remain neither in the Jazira nor in Syria. He had no means of preserving himself, nothing to resort to and no way to treat his ills apart from repairing to the sultan’s court willingly and of his own free will[. . .] He came into the sultan’s presence with his shroud under his arm and was given a guarantee of life and limb. The emirs came to him with their congratulations. The sultan meanwhile asked him for Prince Baktash ibn Tutush, who, after he had been handed over, was imprisoned in Isfahan.169

The imprisonment of Baktash confirms that this battle was about Baktash and the

sultanate more than any of the four generals on which focus is normally placed. The

exchange of Baktash bought Jawuli a post down in Fars again where he eventually

became an atabeg (tutor) for one of Sultan Muhammad’s sons. Jawuli continued his wily

ways until his death in 1116. His death was fortuitous as he was on course to start

another Saljuq civil war in the eastern provinces.170

The crumbling of Jawuli’s forces also reveals to modern readers why Ibn al-Athir provides such a detailed account of Jawuli’s doings while others seem to know so little.

Zanki ibn Aqsunqur was the founder of the Zankid dynasty in Mosul. As mentioned in chapter 2, Ibn al-Athir grew up under Zankid rule and was somewhat biased toward the

169 Ibn al-Athir, 10.466.

170 Ibn al-Athir goes into some detail about Jawuli’s remaining career; see Ibn al-Athir, 10.516-521.

67

family of Zanki. This close connection strongly supports the credibility of Ibn al-Athir’s

account of the battle of Tell Bashir. First, this account does not put Zanki in a favorable

light as he ran before the battle even began. As this goes against the grain of what we

should expect from a positive bias, it gives the young warlord’s inclusion an air of truth.

Secondly, Ibn al-Athir likely knew direct descendants of people who had been at the

battle with Zanki. Thus, he would have had access to very reliable sources for these

events, from people whose accounts may not have been recorded elsewhere. Also, it

might explain why the Ibn al-Athir was somewhat cagey about explicitly saying that

Jawuli was trying to promote Baktash, as such a statement would have explicitly

implicated Zanki in a revolt against Sultan Muhammad. He was not lying to his audience,

he was just being a gentleman and guiding his readers to events that he did not want to

make explicit.

Jawuli’s actions are much more logical in Ibn al-Athir’s version of events.

Ridwan too makes perfect sense as someone who faced a very deep threat in his brother

Baktash. Tancred’s actions are coherent, but Baldwin and Joscelin’s actions are not fully

explained. Even after the defeat they took care of the wounded and showed great

hospitality to their old allies. Why were they so eager about the alliance before the battle

that they would kill the headmaster of Saruj?171

171 The map in Figure 6 was made by the author. Terrain and locations were marked in reference to Google Maps. All locations are approximations.

68

I think the answer is that they knew what Jawuli was up to with Baktash. First,

creating a civil war in to the east would allow the crusaders additional respite from the

powerful armies of the east. Secondly, just as Jawuli told Salim he could give al-Raqqa to

him if he could finish the plan, so to could Jawuli give the count of Edessa the one thing

he wanted most of all: Harran. Edessa is at the northwest end of a plain watered by the

Balikh River while Harran guards the eastside of the fertile landscape. When the two cities cooperated they had great farmland that was well protected from raiders, but when they were antagonistic the cities undermined agricultural sustainability. Harran had been the object of Baldwin’s campaigns in 1104 when he was captured and as soon as his obligations to Jawuli were concluded he shows that Harran is still his priority. The next military outing by Baldwin and Joscelin was an attack on Harran with the aid of some

Armenians.172 Harran never stopped being the target for the fledgling state during this

period. Thus, I think it most likely that the gain the Edessans hoped for in the prolonged alliance with Jawuli was dominion over Harran.

172 Matthew of Edessa, 2.43.

69

CHAPTER 5

SHIFTING DEBATES: THE IMPACT OF IBN AL-ATHIR’S ACCOUNT OF TELL BASHIR

Normally the battle of Tell Bashir occupies from a paragraph up to two pages of synoptic accounts to illustrates the struggle for power between the fledgling Latin states.

However, prioritizing Ibn al-Athir’s account disrupts the standard usage of the battle.

This chapter focuses on the effects of his account on modern historical literature. Section

5.1 enumerates the effects for synoptic accounts, differentiating types of accounts based

on length and focus. The next section shows how this account can shift the focus of

diplomatic histories of the twelfth century Middle East. Finally, 5.3 highlights the

nuances this narrative adds to modern understanding of the “counter crusades” of

Mawdud from 1110 to 1113.

5.1. Changing the Basic Story: Synoptic Accounts

Ibn al-Athir’s account broadly confirms the modern synopsis that Tancred’s rise to prominence was curbed by Baldwin’s release and eventual restoration to Edessa.

However, the battle of Tell Bashir did not contribute to this outcome. Animosity between

Tancred and Baldwin did not lead to a battle, but to a primarily verbal confrontation well before the battle that was settled by Bernard, the Latin patriarch of Antioch. At no point did Baldwin ignore all military sense and attack his better prepared rival. For shorter accounts focused on the Latin states, prioritizing Ibn al-Athir’s account of the battle of

Tell Bashir need not have a major impact. The story of Jerusalem’s ascendancy can be

70

preserved by shifting focus away from the battle onto the Latin political struggle prior to

the military engagement.

Solutions for other types of synopses need substantial changes to adequately deal

with the battle of Tell Bashir. Understanding the battle requires a grasp of the Saljuq civil

wars, of Syrian Islamic politics, and Sultan Muhammad’s shifting policies towards his

emirs and relatives. There is no short version for the actual battle of Tell Bashir.

Explaining the battle requires an in-depth explanation of contemporary politics that

undermines brief accounts. Thus, despite the fact that this battle marks a major

diplomatic moment between the powers of the region, the battle is very difficult—if not

impossible—to properly include in any short Islamic-centric rendition of the era.

While, longer synopses can adequately relate the background for the battle, they must change their approach to the sources. Detailed Latin-focused accounts have a much more difficult prospect. The battle falls squarely into imperial Saljuq politics. The Latin accounts do not relate a coherent story regarding this battle and they certainly do not present a firm grasp on Saljuq politics in the first decade of the twelfth century. Thus, it is not possible to both appropriately present this battle while maintaining a Latin-centric viewpoint. If the battle itself is to be covered in more detail, then it requires a balanced approach to the sources. It must be an honest balance and not just a bolstering of Latin story with Arabic details. As many historians have bemoaned such imbalance in the past,

I am merely concurring with the widely held opinion in scholarship that Arabic accounts are underutilized in favor of their Latin counterparts.173

173 Hillenbrand, The Crusades: Islamic Perspectives, 1-8; Köhler, Alliances and Treaties, 3-4.

71

This work also highlights a tension in histories of the crusader period that try to

adopt an Islamic perspective. When the Arabic primary sources focus beyond the events

of their city, that focus tends to drift to Islamic politics between the Saljuqs or the

Abbasid caliph. The crusaders are not only not the central focus of most of these

accounts, they are the third priority at best. This puts such Islamic-centric accounts of the

crusades at odds with the very texts they seek to highlight. The result is normally more

like a counter-Latin narrative: following the flow of Latin narratives while citing Arabic

sources.

Instead of using the Arabic texts to counterbalance Latin versions of events—like

those of the events surrounding Tell Bashir—historians must shift to relating the histories

told by their sources. Thus, focus should shift to Syrian or Mesopotamian histories in

which the crusaders play an integral, but not central, part. Tell Bashir highlights how the causes of conflicts between the crusaders and their enemies can lead back to events completely outside the scope of Latin sources. Synopses that focus Islamic perspectives have to stop relying on the Latin timeline and follow the logical causes of their sources even if that expands the regional scope.

5.2. The Crusaders’ Sultan: Diplomatic History

Diplomatic histories involving the crusades focus on treaties between the states in

the region. Overwhelmingly, these works highlight the pragmatism of rulers in the East

by drawing attention to their frequent negotiations for peace. Most of these treaties

resulted in nothing more than the temporary cessation of hostilities and agreements on

72

economic concerns.174 Modern authors use these treaties to show that the Christian and

Muslim holy warriors were almost continually using diplomacy with members of the

other faith.175 This evidence debunks accounts that overplay the role of religious

extremism and blind zealotry in the conflict between the two cultures. While valuable,

such accounts fail see the full scope of the pragmatism of the early lords of the Latin

East.

Ibn al-Athir’s account of Tell Bashir shows a much deeper cooperation between

crusaders and Turks than has been traditionally acknowledged. Baldwin II and Joscelin

seemed very aware of what they were fighting for in this alliance and prioritized it to

such a degree that they would execute the headman of Saruj to preserve the peace. They

also proved to be some of the most reliable allies of Jawuli as they held the center against

Tancred while the Arab allies collapsed. That the crusaders were some of the most

stalwart allies of a potential rival for the Saljuq sultanate is somewhat bizarre in the

context of modern accounts. The potential rise of Baktash redirects focus from the mere

presence of many treaties to the few occasions where full blown co-operation existed

between the two groups.

One of the most thorough accounts of diplomatic relations between Christians and

Muslims of Syria in the twelfth century is Michael Köhler’s Alliances and Treaties

between Frankish and Muslim Rulers in the Middle East. In this work, Köhler portrays

most treaties as functioning in a system of Syrian autonomous lordships dominant from

174 Hadia Dajani-Shakeel, “Diplomatic Relations between Muslim and Frankish Rulers 1097-1153 A.D.,” in Crusaders and Muslims in Twelfth Century Syria, ed. Maya Shatzmiller (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1993), 190-215.

175 Ibid.

73 the middle of the eleventh century to the middle of the twelfth century.176 The weakening of the Byzantines and Fatimids during this period created a power vacuum that was filled by autonomous lords.177 Thus, periods of cooperation between crusaders and Syrian

Turks fit within his framework as times when mutual desire to remain free prompted cooperation between competing factions.178

Ridwan fits Köhler’s model remarkably well as he was always seeking to maintain his autonomy from outside forces.179 However, Ridwan was at a special risk of replacement because he was Saljuq prince who maintained the titles of his rebellious father; making him also a rebel in the eyes of those close to the sultans. It was less his geopolitical position than his in relation to his family that isolated Ridwan and made him very protective of his position in Aleppo.

Ibn al-Athir’s account of Tell Bashir shows how Syrian politics were still interconnected with those of Iraq and the sultanate. This battle had less to do with lords maintaining autonomy, than it did with resisting Sultan Muhammad’s consolidation of power. Emirs throughout the Saljuq empire had gained additional powers during the long civil wars, and they wanted to maintain those powers. However, Sultan Muhammad showed that he had no qualms about killing emirs that were powerful, instead of reducing their power. This made for a powerful incentive to resist the sultan, as they sought to preserve their lives first and foremost. Thus, Ibn al-Athir’s account causes friction for

176 Köhler, Alliances and Treaties between Frankish and Muslim Rulers in the Middle East, 17-18.

177 Ibid., 18.

178 Ibid., 63-66.

179 Ibid., 66-67.

74

Köhler’s ‘Syrian autonomous lords’ model of northern Syria by connecting these lords to

the empire to which they were nominally subject. Autonomy was less of a consideration

than survival.

The Latins too fit this imperial model. With the relatively peaceful restoration of

Edessa, Baldwin II had little to gain in terms of preserving his autonomy to motivate him

to fight at the battle. However, he had everything to gain if Baktash was made sultan, and

he was granted lands in exchange for his service. Tancred too was secure from threats to

his autonomy despite Ridwan’s threat that “if [Jawuli] conquered [Aleppo], the Franks

would no longer maintain their presence in Syria.”180 Tancred was the most powerful

leader in the region and wanted to keep the rebel Saljuq prince isolated so he could

continue to financially exploit him. Jawuli or Baktash killing Ridwan was bad for

Tancred’s pocket book, not his autonomy. It was the politics of the Saljuq royal line that

dictated events leading to Tell Bashir, not a striving for autonomy.

5.3. Finishing the Job: Effects on the “Counter-Crusade”

Ibn al-Athir’s account also casts the “counter-crusades” of Mawdud in a very

different light than traditionally understood by scholars. Mawdud, who besieged Jawuli

in Persia and later in Mosul, went on annual campaigns against the crusaders between

1110 and 1114. His campaigns are widely seen as the first concerted effort from the

central Islamic authorities to attack the Latin states. However, a debate has raged over the

motivation for these “counter-crusades.” Some see this as watershed moment when Islam began to unite behind jihad ideology to beat the crusaders.181 The presence of Cadi Ibn

180 Ibn al-Athir, 10.464.

181 Hadia Dajani-Shakeel, “A Reassessment of Some Medieval and Modern Perceptions

of the Counter Crusade,” in The Jihad and Its Times, ed. Hadia Dajani-Shakeel (Ann

75

‘Ammar of Tripoli at Baghdad certainly serves as a central factor for the sultan and caliph ordering the expedition.182 Also of importance was a delegation of citizens from

Aleppo begging for intervention from the East.183 On the surface, many primary sources

support these claims, demonstrated by clear assertions that the caliph and sultan ordered

jihad.184

However, as with the justifications for Emir Ayaz’s unexpected beheading, Ibn al-

Athir also related non-jihad relate reasons for the “counter-crusades” of Mawdud. The

other side of the debate argues for just such pragmatic causes as being the primary causes

for the expeditions. Michael Köhler argues quite convincingly for just such a pragmatic

reading in Alliances and Treaties. He concludes:

On balance, the results of the investigation of the so-called counter-crusade projects from [Jawuli] to Mawdud is that the explanation of the Turkish campaigns is not to be found in the unification of the Islamic world against the Crusaders, but in the power struggle in Iraq and the territorial interests of the changing governors of Mosul. A new devotion of the caliph or the sultan to the jihad around 1110 is not, as Stevenson thought, discernible. It is also not clear what the aim of the so-called counter-crusades was, beyond the taking of booty and the struggle against Edessa, pushed by Mosul. None of the enterprises attempted to besiege a Frankish capital—certainly not Jerusalem, which might perhaps have been possible in 1113—and so ‘to purge Asia of the Franks’.185

The present work does not close the jihad-pragmatism debate, but it does provide additional evidence for pragmatic motivations the first two “counter-crusade”

Arbor: The University of Michigan, 1991), 201-221; Harold S. Fink, “Mawdud I of Mosul, Precursor of Saladin.” The Muslim World 43, no. 1 (1953): 18-27; Grousset, Histoire des Croisades, 460-461; Stevenson, The Crusaders in the East, 87.

182 Ibn al-Athir, 10.452.

183 Ibid., 10.482.

184 Ibid., 10.483.

185 Köhler, Alliances and Treaties, 98.

76 expeditions. Ibn al-Athir shows a very strong alliance between Baldwin of Edessa and

Jawuli Saqao in 1108. It was Mawdud who captured Mosul that year and thereby crippled

Jawuli’s authority just before the engagement with Tancred and Ridwan. While Jawuli handed over Baktash for peace with Sultan Muhammad, Baldwin of Edessa and Joscelin made no such offer of deal with the sultan, and their lands may have suffered as a result.

The first campaign by Mawdud in 1110 exclusively targeted Edessa, while the second campaign in 1111 primarily targeted Tell Bashir before splintering from distractions with

Aleppo and other targets. There are many reasons Mawdud might have chosen these two targets: both were closer to Mosul, both were exposed by their proximity to Islamic controlled cities, and both had a weaker army than Antioch.

However, neither target fulfilled the request for aid made by Ibn ‘Ammar of

Tripoli or the citizens of Aleppo. Tripoli was taken with aid from Jerusalem while

Tancred and the army of Antioch were the bane of Aleppo. That none of the coastal Latin powers were targeted may derive from the convenience of the more easterly targets of

Edessa and Tell Bashir for armies from Mosul. But the cause may also have derived from the Edessan involvement in the plot to make Baktash sultan. They aided a rebellion, so it is natural that Sultan Muhammad would at least send reprisal attacks. Mawdud showed his ambition at the siege of Mosul by refusing to give the siege up unless the sultan ordered it directly to him. Attacking the Edessans fills a double purpose of obeying the sultan and specifically targeting those Franks who plotted against him. Surely Mawdud’s self-interest also played a role in target selection, but that does not eliminate the role of punishing Baldwin and the Edessans directly for their involvement in Saljuq affairs.

77

Such a connection also helps explain a related incident in Albert of Aachen’s account. According to Albert, Tancred was slow to aid the Edessans when Mawdud attacked Edessa in 1110. Consequently, Count Baldwin II of Edessa complained to King

Baldwin I of Jerusalem that Tancred had called on Mawdud to attack Edessa.186 There is

no evidence that Tancred did such a thing, and most modern scholars take this as a

further instance of Albert’s bias against Tancred.187 But in Albert’s narrative, King

Baldwin I of Jerusalem reprimanded Tancred for his treatment of Count Baldwin II of

Edessa. Though it is doubtful that Tancred actually reached out to Mawdud, Count

Baldwin II of Edessa thought such a connection between his two enemies.

While Baldwin’s accusation is preposterous on traditional reads of the politics of

the time, Ibn al-Athir’s version of the battle of Tell Bashir provides a backdrop wherein

Baldwin might have feared reprisals for events in 1108 and made mental connections

between Tancred and Mawdud that otherwise would have seemed unsubstantiated. This

not only contextualizes Baldwin of Edessa’s accusation that Tancred called Mawdud to

attack Edessa, but also supports the claim that the events of 1108 were a potential motive

for Edessa to be targeted in 1110. Taken together, there is reason to strongly consider the

role Baldwin’s alliance with Jawuli had in Mawdud’s target selection for his first two

expeditions against the Crusaders.

Ibn al-Athir’s account of the battle of Tell Bashir is a dramatic departure from the

traditional understanding of the battle. The idea that Baldwin as a former participant of

the first crusade, the then count of Edessa, and the future king of Jerusalem, could or

186 Albert of Aachen, 11.20-22.

187 Beaumont, “Albert of Aachen,” 134.

78

would ally with a Turk borders on preposterous on traditional reads; that the alliance

involved promoting a Saljuq contender and trying to start a new Saljuq civil war into new

territory. Yet that is exactly what Ibn al-Athir presents as the underlying cause for the battle. Crusaders did in fact fight alongside Turks against other Crusaders. The Christian

lords were not at the battle to define their hierarchy or settle personal rivalries; they were

there because they had different goals and approaches to their Saljuq neighbors. Baldwin

wanted to create more chaos in the east and possibly gain Harran through the favor of a

powerful ally. Tancred sought to establish and maintain sizable tribute from neighboring

lords like Baldwin and Ridwan. Most importantly however, neither of these two early

leaders of the Latin east had any noteworthy causal responsibility for the battle at Tell

Bashir: it was Saljuq politics that led to the battle. The battle is not a story about the

crusader lords, but a story of the intricate political webs connecting Christians and

Muslims alike. When properly understood, the battle of Tell Bashir not only reshapes our

perspective of the leaders involved at the battle, it also fundamentally changes how we

approach diplomatic and cultural interactions in early crusader-era Syria.

79

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A. Primary Sources

Albert of Aachen. “Historia Hierosolymitanae expeditionis.” In Historia Ierosolimitana: A History of the Journey to Jerusalem, edited and translated by Susan B. Edgington. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2007.

“The First and Second Crusade from an Anonymous Syrian Chronicle.” Translated by Arthur S. Tritton and annotated by Hamilton A. R. Gibb. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland 1 (1933): 69-101.

Fulcher of Chartres. “Historia Hierosolymitana expeditionis.” In A History of the Expedition to Jerusalem: 1095-1127, translated by Frances R. Ryan and edited by Harold S. Fink. Knoxville: The University of Tennessee Press, 1969.

Gregory Bar Hebraeus. “Chronicon Syriacum.” In The Chronongraphy of Gregory Abu’l- Faraj, 1225-1286, The Son of Aaron, the Hebrew Physician, Commonly Known as Bar Hebraeus: Being the First Part of His History of the World, translated by Ernest A. W. Budge. Amsterdam: APA – Philo Press, 1976.

Ibn al-Adim, “De la Chronique d’Alep.” In Recueil des Historiens des Croisades: Historiens Orientaux, Tome III. Paris: Académie des Inscriptions et Belles- Lettres, 1884.

Ibn al-Athir. “al-Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh.” In The Annals of the Saljuq Turks: Selections from al-Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh of ‘Izz al-Din Ibn al-Athir, translated and annotated by Donald S. Richards. New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2002.

------. “al-Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh.” In The Chronicle of Ibn al-Athir for the Crusading Period from al-Kamil fi’l-Ta’rikh. Part 1: The Years 491-541/1097-1146: The Coming of the Franks and the Muslim Response, translated by Donald S. Richards. Burlington: Ashgate, 2005.

Ibn al-Qalanisi. “Mudhayyal Ta’rikh Dimashq.” In The Damascus Chronicle of the Crusades, extracted and translated by Hamilton A. R. Gibb. London: Luzac & Co., 1932.

Matthew of Edessa. “The Chronicle of Matthew of Edessa.” In Armenia and the Crusades, Tenth to Twelfth Centuries: The Chronicle of Matthew of Edessa, translated by Ara E. Dostourian. New York: University Press of America, 1993.

80

Michael the Syrian. “Chronicle.” In The Syriac Chronicle of Michael Rabo (The Great): A Universal History from the Creation, translated by Matti Moosa. Teaneck: Beth Antioch Press, 2014.

Sibt al-Jawzi. “Du Mirât ez-Zèmân.” In Recueil des Historiens des Croisades: Historiens Orientaux, Tome III. Paris: Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, 1884.

Usāmah Ibn Munqidh. “Kitāb al-I’tibār.” In An Arab-Syrian Gentleman and Warrior in the Period of the Crusades, translated by Philip K. Hitti. New York: Columbia University Press, 1929.

William Archbishop of Tyre. A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea. Annotated and translated by Emily A. Babcock and August C. Krey. 2 vols. New York: Columbia University Press, 1943.

B. Secondary Sources

Ahmad, M. Hilmy M. “Some Notes on Arabic Historiography during the Zengid and Ayyubid Periods (521/1127-648/1250).” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 79-97. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

Alptekin, Coşkun. The Reign of Zangi (521-541/1127-1146). Ezerum: Atatürk University Press, 1978.

Amedroz, Henry F. “The Office of Kadi in the Ahkam Sultaniyya of Mawardi.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland (1910): 761-796.

Amouroux-Mourad, Monique. Le Comté d’Edesse: 1098-1150. Paris: Geuthner, 1988.

Asbridge, Thomas. The Creation of the Principality of Antioch, 1098-1130. Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 2000.

------. The Crusades. New York: Harper Collins, 2010.

Barber, Malcom. The Crusader States. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012.

Basan, Aziz. The Great Saljuqs: a History. New York: Routledge, 2010.

Beaumont, Jr., Andre A. “Albert of Aachen and the County of Edessa.” In The Crusades and Other Historical Essays: Presented to Dana C. Munro by His Former Students, edited by Louis J. Paetow, 101-138. Freeport: Books for Libraries Press, 1928.

Beihammer, Alexander. “Eastern Mediterranean Diplomatics: The Present State of Research.” In Diplomatics in the Eastern Mediterranean 1000- 1500: Aspects of Cross-Cultural Communication, edited by Alexander Beihammer, Maria Parani, and Christopher Schabel, 1-24. Leiden: Brill, 2008.

81

Bosworth, Clifford E. The New Islamic Dynasties: A Chronological and Genealogical Manual. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996.

Cahen, Claude. “The Historiography of the Seljuqid Period.” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 59-78. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

------. La Syrie du Nord a l’Epoque des Croisades et la Principaute Franque d’Antioche. Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1940.

Cobb, Paul M. The Race for Paradise: An Islamic History of the Crusades. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.

Crawford, Robert W. “Ridwan the Maligned.” In The World of Islam: Studies in Honor of Phillip K. Hitti, edited by James Kritzeck and R. Bayly Winder, 135-144. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1959.

Dahan, Sami. “The Origin and Development of the Local Histories of Syria.” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 108- 117. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

Dajani-Shakeel, Hadia. “Al-Quds: Jerusalem in the Consciousness of the Counter Crusader.” In The Meeting of Two Worlds: Cultural Exchange between East and West During the Period of the Crusades, edited by Vladimir Goss and Christine Verzár Bornstein, 201-221. Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, 1986.

------. “Diplomatic Relations Between Muslim and Frankish Rulers 1097-1153 A.D.” In Crusaders and Muslims in Twelfth Century Syria, edited by Maya Shatzmiller, 190-215. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1993.

------. “A Reassessment of Some Medieval and Modern Perceptions of the Counter Crusade.” In The Jihad and Its Times, edited by Hadia Dajani-Shakeel, 41-70. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan, 1991.

de Guignes, Joseph. Histoire Générale des Huns, des Turcs, des Mongols, et des Autres Tartares des Occidentaux, Tome II. Paris: Desaint & Saillant, 1756.

Dowsett, Charles J. F. “Armenian Historiography.” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 259-268. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

Drory, Joseph. “Early Muslim Reflections on the Crusaders.” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 25 (2001): 92-101.

Edbury, Peter and John G. Rowe. William of Tyre: Historian of the Latin East. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988.

82

Eddé, Anne-Marie. “Kamāl al-Dīn ‘Umar Ibn al-‘Adīm.” In Medieval Muslim Historians and the Franks in the Levant, edited by Alex Mallet, 109-135. Leiden: Brill, 2014.

Edgington, Susan B. “Albert of Aachen and the Chasons de Geste.” In The Crusades and their Sources: Essays Presented to Bernard Hamilton, edited by John France and William G. Zajac, 23-37. Burlington: Ashgate, 1998.

El-Azhari, Taef K. The Saljūqs of Syria: During the Crusades 463-549 A.H./1070-1154 A.D. Berlin: Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 1997.

Fink, Harold S. “The Foundation of the Latin States, 1099-1118.” In A History of the Crusades, Volume I: The First Hundred Years, edited by Marshall W. Baldwin and Kenneth M. Setton, 368-409. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1958.

------. “Mawdud I of Mosul, Precursor of Saladin.” The Muslim World 43:1 (1953): 18- 27.

------. “The Role of Damascus in the History of the Crusades.” The Muslim World 49:1 (1959): 41-53.

Forse, James. “Armenians and the First Crusade.” Journal of Medieval History 17:1 (1991): 13-22.

France, John. “The Anonymous Gesta Francorum and the Historia Francorum qui ceperunt Iherusalem of Raymond of Aguilers and the Historia de Hierosolymitano itinere of Peter Tudebode: An Analysis of the Textual Relationship between Primary Sources of the First Cruade.” In The Crusades and their Sources: Essays Presented to Bernard Hamilton, edited by John France and William G. Zajac, 38- 70. Burlington: Ashgate, 1998.

------. The Crusades and the Expansion of Catholic Christendom, 1000-1714. New York: Routledge, 2005.

Gabrielli, Francesco. “The Arabic Historiography of the Crusades.” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 98-107. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

Gibb, Hamilton A R. “Notes on the Arabic Materials for the History of the Early Crusades.” Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies 7:4 (1935), 739-754.

Grousset, Rene. The Epic of the Crusades. Translated by Noel Lindsay. New York: Orion Press, 1970.

------. Histoire des Croisades et du Royaume Franc de Jerusalem. Paris: Librairie Plon, 1934.

83

Hamblin, William. “To Wage Jihad or not: Fatimid Egypt During the Early Crusades.” In The Jihad and Its Times, edited by Hadia Dajani-Shakeel, 31-39. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan, 1991.

Hamilton, Bernard. “The Armenian Church and the Papacy at the Time of the Crusades.” Eastern Churches Review (1978): 61-87.

Hillenbrand, Carole. “1092: A Murderous Year.” Proceedings of the 14th Congress of the Union Européenne des Arabisants et Islamisants (1995): 281-296.

------. “‘Abominable Acts’: The Career of Zengi.” In The Second Crusade: Scope and Consequences, edited by Jonathan Phillips and Martin Hoch, 111-132. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001.

------. “The Career of Najm al-Din Il-Ghazi.” Der Islam 58:2 (1981): 250-292.

------. The Crusades: Islamic Perspectives. New York: Routledge, 2000.

------. “The Establishment of Artuqid Power in Diyār Bakr in the Twelfth Century.” Studia Islamica 54 (1981): 129-153.

------. “Islamic Orthodoxy or Realpolitk? Al-Ghazāli’s View on Government.” Iran, 26 (1988): 81-94.

------. “The Power Struggle Between the Saljuqs and the Isma’ilis of Alamūt, 487- 518/1094-1124: The Saljuq Perspective.” In Medieval Isma’ili History and Thought, edited by Farhad Daftary, 205-220. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996.

Humphreys, R. Stephen. “Legitimacy and Stability in Islam.” In The Jihad and Its Times, edited by Hadia Dajani-Shakeel, 5-13. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan, 1991.

Jotischky, Andrew. Crusading and the Crusader States. Harlow: Pearson Education Ltd, 2004.

Kedar, Benjamin Z. “Religion in Catholic-Muslim Correspondence and Treaties.” In Diplomatics in the Eastern Mediterranean 1000- 1500: Aspects of Cross-Cultural Communication, edited by Alexander Beihammer, Maria Parani, and Christopher Schabel, 407-422. Leiden: Brill, 2008.

Köhler, Michael A. Alliances and Treaties between Frankish and Muslim Rulers in the Middle East: Cross-Cultural Diplomacy in the Period of the Crusades. Translated by Peter M. Holt. Revised and edited by Konrad Hirschler. Leiden: Brill, 2013.

Kosto, Adam J. “Hostages During the First Century of the Crusasde.” Medieval Encounters 9:1 (2003): 3-31.

84

Kugler, Bernhard. Bohemond und Tankred, Fürsten von Antiochien: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Normannen in Syrien. Tubingen: Gedruckt, 1862.

------. Geschichte der Kreuzzüge. Berlin: G. Grote, 1880.

La Monte, John. “The Lords of Le Puiset on the Crusades.” Speculum 17:1 (1942): 100- 118.

Lewis, Bernard. From Babel to Dragomans Interpreting the Middle East. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.

------. “The Isma’ilites and the Assasins.” In A History of the Crusades, Volume I: The First Hundred Years, edited by Marshall W. Baldwin and Kenneth M. Setton, 99- 132. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1958.

Maalouf, Amin. The Crusades through Arab Eyes. Translated by Jon Rothschild. London: Al Saqi Books, 1984.

MacEvitt, Christopher. The Crusades and the Christian World of the East: Rough Tolerance. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008.

Makdisi, George. “Notes on Hilla and the Mazyadids in Medieval Islam.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 74 (1954): 249-262.

------. “Significance of the Sunni Schools of Law in Islamic Religious History.” International Journal of Middle East Studies 10:1 (1979): 1-8.

------. “The Sunni Revival.” In Islamic Civilization, 950-1150, edited by Donald S. Richards, 155-168. Oxford: Bruno Cassirer, 1973.

Mallet, Alex. “The life of Aq-Sunqur al-Bursuqi: Some Notes on Twelfth-Century Islamic History and Thirteenth-Century Muslim Historiography.” Turkish Historical Review 2 (2011): 39-56.

Mass, Paul. Textual Criticism, translated by Barbara Flower. Oxford: Clarendon Press 1958.

Mayer, Hans E. Geschichte der Kreuzzüge. Tenth Edition. Stuttgart: Kolhammer, 2005.

------. “The Succession to Baldwin II of Jerusalem: English Impact on the East.” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 39 (1985): 139-147.

Meisami, Julie S. “The collapse of the Great Saljuqs.” In Texts, Documents and Artefacts: Islamic Studies in Honour of D.S. Richards, edited by Chase F. Robinson, 265-300. Leiden: Brill, 2003.

Micheau, Françoise. “Ibn al-Athir.” In Medieval Muslim Historians and the Franks in the Levant, edited by Alex Mallet, 52-83. Leiden: Brill, 2014.

85

Michaud, Joseph F. The History of the Crusades, Volume I. Translated by William Robson. New York: Armstrong and Son, 1891.

Morton, Nicholas. “The Saljuq Turks’ Conversion to Islam: The Crusading Sources.” Al- Masaq 27:2 (2015): 109-118.

Murray, Alan V. “Artash.” In The Crusades: an Encyclopedia, edited by Alan V. Murray, I: 109-110. Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2006.

Nicholson, Robert L. Joscelyn I, Prince of Edessa. Urbana: The University of Illinois Press, 1954.

------. Tancred: A Study of his Career and Work in Relation to the First Crusade and the Establishment of the Latin States in Syria and Palestine. Chicago: The University of Chicago Libraries, 1940.

Özaydin, Abdülkerīm. Sultan Muhammed Tapar Devrī Selçuklu Tahīrī (498-511/1105- 1118). Ankara: Türk Tarīh Kurumu Basimevī, 1990.

Peacock, Andrew C. S. Early Seljuq History: A New Interpretation. London: Routledge, 2010.

------. “Nomadic Society and the Seljūq Campaigns in Caucasia.” Iran & the Caucasus 9:2 (2005): 205-230.

Piyadeoĝlu, Cihan. “Büyük Selçuklu Devleti Emîri Atabeg Çavli Sakavu.” In Istanbul Universitesi Edebiyat Fakultesi Tarih Dergisi, edited by Ali İhsan Gencer, 37-60. Istanbul: İstanbul Üniversitesi Edebiyat Fakültesi Tarih Bölümü, 2003.

Pogossian, Zaroui. “The Armenian Reaction to the Concept of the Primacy of the Roman Church in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries.” Frontiers in the Middle Ages : proceedings of the Third European Congress of Medieval Studies (2003): 259- 290.

Richards, Donald S. “Ibn al-Athir and the later parts of the Kamil: A Study of Aims and Methods.” In Medieval Historical Writing in the Christian and Islamic Worlds, edited by David O. Morgan, 75-108. London: School of Oriental and African Studies, 1982.

Robinson, Chase F. Islamic Historiography. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003.

Röhricht, Reinhold. Gechichte des Königreichs Jerusalem (1100-1291). Innsbruck: Wagner, 1898.

Rosenthal, Franz. A History of Muslim Historiography. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1968.

86

Runciman, Steven. A History of the Crusades, Volume II: The Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Frankish East 1100-1187. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1954.

Sabourin, Pascal. “Baudoin de Bourq, Croise, Comte d’Edesse, Roi de Jerusalem: Proposition de Lecture d’un Itinéraire peu Ordinaire.” Revue Historique Ardennaise 31 (1996): 3-15.

Salibi, Kamal S. “The Traditional Historiography of the Maronites.” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 212-225. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

Schacht, Joeseph. An Introduction to Islamic Law. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1982.

Segal, Judah B. “Syriac Chronicles as Source Material for the History of Islamic Peoples.” In Historians of the Middle East, edited by Bernard Lewis and Peter M. Holt, 246-258. London: Oxford University Press, 1962.

Shick, Robert. “Southern Jordan in the Fatimid and Seljuq Periods.” Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 305 (1997): 73-85.

Shukurov, Rustam. “Christian Elements in the Identity of the Anatolian Turkmens (12th- 13th Centuries).” Cristianità d'Occidente e cristianità d'Oriente 1 (2004): 707- 759.

Smarandache, Bogdan. “The Franks and the Nizārī Ismā’īlīs in the Early Crusade Period.” Al-Masāq, 24:3 (2012): 221-239.

Stevenson, William B. The Crusaders in the East: A Brief History of the Wars of Islam with the Latins in Syria during the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1907.

Tillier, Mathieu. “Judicial Authority and Qādīs’ Autonomy under the ‘Abbāsids.” Al- Masaq 26:2 (2014): 119-131.

Tor, Deborah G. “A Tale of Two Murders: Power Relations between Caliph and Sultan in the Saljuq Era.” Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlandischen Gesellschaft 159:2 (2009): 279-297.

Wood, Ian. “Defining the Franks: Frankish Origins in Early Medieval Historiography.” In Concepts of National Identity in the Middle Ages, edited by Simon Forde, Lesley Johnson and Alan V. Murray, 47-57. Leeds: Leeds Texts and Monographs, 1995.

Yewdale, Ralph B. Bohemond I, Prince of Antioch. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1924.

Zakkar, Suhayl. The Emirate of Aleppo: 1004-1094. Beirut: Dar al-Amanah & el-Risalah Publishing House, 1971.