Islam represented a foe that could not be won over by indigenous culture, and this was totally new to western Europe. Even as invasions by Allemani, Burgundians, "Northmen" (Normans, or Vikings) continued into France, England, and northern Germany, these represented less of a threat than the Moslems, which would not part with their faith.
Of course, the Germanic assaults were still a threat, and western Europe overall was under a state of siege for several centuries, before the Viking invasions finally wound down and the Scandinavian nations were Christianized, around the turn of the millennium.
Under these circumstances, there was a very real feeling that Christianity — the most prominent feature of western European culture — was threatened, and in peril. A natural feeling among the Europeans was that they were not only defending their homes, but their religion, and by extension, Christ Himself. Their defensive war took on an air of righteousness, and this feeling evolved into a belief that attacks on non-Christians — particularly "Saracens" or Moslems — were righteous.
As a result, there was constant warring in southern France and into Spain, dedicated to removing the Saracens from Spain. This effort, the reconquista, took centuries, and was completed only in 1492 with the union of the Spanish kingdoms and the expulsion of the Moslems from their last stronghold, Granada, along the southern Spanish coast.
The notion of a "holy war" was, therefore, a natural product of the particular environment in which western Europeans lived.
In ancient cultures, going as far back in time as the 4th millennium B.C.E. in Sumer, certain places were considered sacred, or particularly important to a deity. Or certain spirits were said to dwell in a certain place. In any event, throughout ancient times, people traveled to these places, in order to curry favors from the gods or spirits. Temples and shrines were constructed to certain deities or spirits, in these locations.
Veneration of holy objects dated back to ancient times, as well, but with less fervor. The New Testament tells of people who wanted merely to touch the robe of Jesus in order to be healed. The Old Testament tells of certain holy items — such as the Ark of the Covenant — which were sacred. In the first century A.D., objects which had belonged to the apostles, were said to have healing power.
In the Middle Ages, the idea of object veneration took on a life of its own. Relics of saints were prized, and each consecrated altar required one. A single hair, or a fingernail, or a sliver of bone from a saint, was enough for them. Graves were plundered for such relics. Holy water blessed by certain people, presumed to become saints, was sealed in vials and preserved. Any number of miracles were ascribed to these various sorts of relics.
Clearly, places and objects had great power, in the medieval mind. Sacredness could have a specific location, whether it be in an object or in a place. Acquiring a holy relic, or going to a holy place, was considered a righteous quest, and would grant one God's grace.
Pilgrimage to the Holy Land inevitably became seen as the most righteous possible quest, in spite of the fact that it was a very long, very arduous journey, for anyone living in western Europe at that time. Still, some made the attempt. For example, Swegen, son of Earl Godwine of Wessex, and older brother of King Harold II of England, embarked on such a pilgrimage (he had been accused of some crime — the chronicles don't say exactly what — and wanted to clean up his reputation). He died in or near Constantinople, on his way back. (In that regard, he was fortunate. Most never even got to the Holy Land.)
In any event, pilgrimage and veneration of relics was a very real part of the faith of medieval people. Holy places and objects were precious to God and thus to them.
Theirs was a culture of warfare. Every town had some sort of fortification — whether an outer protective wall, or a nearby keep or castle where the people could seek refuge. Even monasteries set up outer walls or other defenses. Manors were clustered around castles, keeps, or fortified homes. Men in every town and village were instructed, and drilled, in what to do in the event of an enemy attack.
Occasionally, rivalries between lords developed, and in such a "powder-keg" environment, they went to war with one another readily. It was a time when enemies, both inside and outside a kingdom, threatened nearly everyone. War could break out any time, anywhere.
In order to promote peace, the Church enacted various dictates which curbed the opportunity for war, at least among Christian lords. No battle could be fought on Church-owned land (and the Church owned a good deal of territory). Nor could there be fighting on holy days (and there were many on the Church calendar). Still, these efforts only dulled the culture of warfare, and not eliminate it.
Emperor Alexius clearly spelled out in his letter what he wanted: forces to support an effort to recapture Anatolian territory, a counterassault foreceful enough to drive the Turks back and give the Byzantines a wide berth. He could have retaken Nicaea with his own army, but would have been stuck in constant warfare over it. What he needed was a force strong enough to decide the issue for good.
In the Emperor's letter, Pope Urban saw an unprecedented opportunity. Here was a campaign worth fighting. Eastern Christianity, he knew even prior to the letter's arrival, was in a precarious position. If he could orchestrate its salvation, he could extend Papal authority to the east (which he did not have, since the eastern Church had broken away from the papacy in 1054). At the same time, he would give the lords of the west a good reason to go to war, and keep them from fighting each other — and vying with him for supremacy of Europe.
At the end of this council, Pope Urban addressed the synod as well as a number of invited guests — mostly the aristocracy of southern France. His speech is not recorded verbatim, but it must have been stirring indeed, for the reaction to it was nothing short of cataclysmic.
Urban outlined the situation in the east, saying that eastern Christianity was threatened with destruction, if something wasn't done. He cited Alexius's letter as proof of their desperation. He proclaimed that it was the holy duty of all Christians to come to the aid of their brothers and sisters in faith, and proclaimed that the "infidels" had no right to occupy the Holy Land or those places where Christianity had first blossomed.
Urban went on ... those who undertook such a quest were granted indulgences (absolution from sin) and were assured a place in Heaven. Everyone, great and small, had the same duty, and should not be prevented from carrying it out. He ended his speech with "Deus volunt," or "God wills it!" The crowd was on its feet and nearly everyone present swore themselves to the cause, then and there.
Word of the Pope's proclamation spread through the west like fire. Lords and commoners alike undertook the quest and prepared for the long journey. Most had no idea what they were in for. The Holy Land was much further away than they could have imagined, and they would have to traverse thousands of miles of hostile territory. But the call to liberate Christ's birthplace was too strong for such considerations.
In short order, the Crusades went from being an effort to assist Alexius in shoring up his Empire, to a campaign to liberate Jerusalem from "the infidel." Great lords made preparations in their own, military, style; they arranged for supplies, troops, and plotted travel routes. Wandering preachers went among the people — most prominent among them were Peter the Hermit, a poor monk who went from village to village on a donkey (after the fashion of Christ himself), and Walter the Penniless, a knight who gave up his inheritance to lead common folk on this enterprise.
Soon, all of western Europe was mobilized. Lords from the north and south lined up to head east on their campaign. The mobs which Peter and Walter attracted, soon started trickling eastward. Whole villages up and left to go on Crusade. Many lords who wanted no part of the affair, complained that too many of their serfs were leaving, and appealed to the Church to stop them (to no avail).
The military Crusade proceeded as its lords planned. One by one they all made their ways to Constantinople, nominally responding to Alexius's request for aid. The Byzantine Emperor was overwhelmed. He had never imagined such a massive force, and had no idea what to do with them. Furthermore, he was disappointed that their main interest was in the Holy Land, Palestine, and not shoring up the borders of Byzantium.
About the same time, the "People's Crusade" arrived. They came in even more staggering numbers, and the Byzantines were at even more of a loss to figure out what to do with them. The ragtag mobs were out of control and harried the suburbs of Constantinople; also, they were most anxious to get to Jerusalem, much more so than the military Crusade. So, Alexius was all too willing to ferry them across the Bosporus to Anatolia, and be rid of them.
The mobs attacked both a Greek and Turk-held town. The Turks responded by sending in reinforcements, who of course devastated the ill-armed mobs. Peter the Hermit himself barely survived, escaping on a boat back to Constantinople, at which time he joined in with the Crusader princes and remained with them for the duration of the venture.
Now, the Turks had heard of the impending campaign by westerners, and were less than impressed with the mobs. Believing they had destroyed the "Celtic" invasion, they went home satisfied.
It was only at this point that the "real" Crusade — the military venture led by veteran warriors — arrived. They easily liberated Nicaea, stunning the Turks, who led a poor counteroffensive, and were decimated. Turkish power in Anatolia was broken, and the Byzantines were free to reclaim a a number of towns throughout the peninsula.
They laid siege to Antioch and managed to capture it by guile, but in short order found themselves trapped inside when their foes regrouped and gathered reinforcements. After a long siege, which further weakened them, the Crusaders managed to break out of Antioch and defeat the remnant of the Anatolian Turks.
Having captured Antioch, it was inevitable that they would reach Jerusalem. But even this journey was harsh. They were in foreign land and understood little about it. It took another lengthy campaign to capture Jerusalem, which they did in July of 1099.
But, of course, in spite of their success, the whole enterprise was doomed. The Latin kingdom of Jerusalem was ringed by foes, all of whom clamored to make Palestine their own — for reasons of their own. They were surrounded and vastly outnumbered.
The "Massacre of Jerusalem" had done little to help the Crusaders' reputation. It galvanized Moslems against them, and made it hard for them to gain allies in the area. Eventually, Nur ed-Din, atabeg (ruler) of Damascus, began to proclaim a "holy war" of his own, against the Crusaders, using the Massacre as a pretext. It was Nur ed-Din's protege and successor, Salah ed-Din (Saladin) who finally destroyed the kingdom of Jerusalem at the Battle of Hattin. He left the Crusaders a little coastal territory, and not much else.
By the time of the Third Crusade, led by king Philip of France and king Richard Lion-Heart of England, there was no hope of retaking Jerusalem. Richard settled for the port town of Acre, and left, after a couple of years of constant skirmishing.
The consistent failure of every Crusade after the first, certainly played a part in the waning of the Crusade movement. But it was also a movement with a strong emotional component, and as is the case with any such movement, it could only endure so long. That the Fourth Crusade was so easily diverted from its cause, proved that the Crusading ideal had lost its appeal, and that there was no longer the same passion in the movement.
The incursion of new ideas into a culture which had been stagnant for several hundred years, proved overwhelming. Western Europe lurched ahead into a new age, an Age of Enlightenment. The Renaissance dawned, in the wake of the Crusades.
Back up to Dennis's Medieval Information page.