In 1182, Saladin launched a daring attack by land and sea on Beirut.
It was a sharp break from his usual raids into enemy territory and skirmishes with the Crusaders. But at a deeper level, it was part of a consistent strategy that ultimately brought him victory.
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Beirut stands on a broad triangular promontory, which in Saladin’s time was covered with fields and orchards. The medieval city stood on its northern edge and was endowed with one of the finest harbors in the Levant.
Beirut was obviously an attractive target, but this was uncharacteristically bold for Saladin. This was not just a raid: it was an attempt to seize and hold ground in the middle of Crusader territory.
More important in Saladin’s calculations were the surroundings. Mountains come down to the sea on either side, squeezing the coastal road along the shore. Only a few narrow paths crossed the mountains.
From a military point of view, Beirut was virtually an island.
The Crusaders’ only practical land access was by the coastal road: from the County of Tripoli to the north or Kingdom of Jerusalem to the south. Over the mountains lay the Beqaa Valley, which was under Saladin’s control.
The only other access was by sea. Traditionally the Crusaders had command of the seas, aided by Venetian, Genoese, and Pisan ships. As part of his long-term strategic reforms, Saladin began rebuilding the Egyptian navy in 1176.
This allowed him to launch sea raids every spring with the opening of the Mediterranean sailing season. In their first few forays, the Muslims had some modest successes, capturing a few Christian ships.
In 1182, Saladin decided to undertake something more ambitious.
The sultan had spent the winter in Egypt. After arranging affairs there, he departed in spring for Damascus then conducted multiple raids through Galilee. This kept the Crusaders focused on their eastern frontier.
Saladin left a modest force to guard the border, then in July brought most of his troops up to the Beqaa Valley. He posted lookouts in the mountains above to keep watch for a signal….
On August 1st the lookouts spotted the signal: 40 galleys sailing up the coast from Egypt. They sent word to Saladin, who immediately set off across the mountains with the army.
While Saladin was crossing the mountains, a raid force came up from Egypt right on schedule and began devastating the land around Gaza. Skirmishes in Galilee sparked rumors of an attack from that direction, then reports began arriving from the north…
Confusion reigned among the Crusaders. They were assembled and ready to march, but reports were coming in of attacks from all directions. The army was paralyzed, not knowing which was the main attack.
Saladin had meanwhile descended to the plains around Beirut and immediately settled in to invest the city. He hadn't brought his siege engines, which would slow him down, but had his crack sapper corps with him.
The sappers immediately began entrenching and digging mines beneath the walls, while archers kept up a continuous rain of arrows to keep the defenders’ heads down. The galleys meanwhile kept up pressure on the harbor.
There were only a few soldiers in the city (most of the garrison had joined up with the main army), but the bishop organized the townspeople into a defensive brigade. They worked around the clock and successfully countermined the siege tunnels.
After three days, it was apparent that a successful siege would take a while longer. One of Saladin’s commanders suggested a direct assault on the walls, which were guarded by only a few fighting men—no sooner did he say that than an arrow pierced his throat.
The Crusaders had meanwhile realized the gravity of the situation at Beirut. King Baldwin marched with his army to the great port city of Tyre and ordered the fleet made ready.
Saladin, in the meantime, sent his infantry to build a wall blocking the coastal route from the south and devastated the plain around Beirut with his cavalry. He ordered his ships, which could not compete with the superior Christian navy, to return home.
After a few days, he achieved all he could hope to and saw no more opportunities to take the city. He gathered all his forces and withdrew over the mountains.
The siege of Beirut was a failure, but one that cost Saladin nothing—in fact, he gained plunder and damaged the Crusaders. Success, on the other hand would have brought him a great deal….
Seizing Beirut would have split the Crusader states in two, preventing Tripoli and Antioch from reinforcing Jerusalem and vice-versa. It also would have given his fleet safe harbor to continuously raid the coast.
Although Saladin never tried anything quite so bold before or after, it was characteristic of his larger strategy: make continuous small-scale attacks on the Crusaders while probing for vulnerable points, exploiting opportunities as they came.
This depended on careful preparation, good intelligence, and above all disciplined execution. It had a narrow window of success which had to be ruthlessly exploited, unlike longer, large-scale sieges.
Ottoman borders in the 15th century looked a lot like Byzantium during its ascent: for similar geographic reasons they faced an ongoing state of war along their eastern frontier. But once they turned their full attention to the problem, they solved it much more dramatically.🧵
Anatolia was the Ottomans’ base of power, where they welded together the Turkic beyliks that formed in the wake of Byzantine retreat. This was a gradual process, and by the 15th c. several retained varying degrees of independence.
One of these was the Karamanids in southern Anatolia, who often tried to expand this during periods of Ottoman weakness or disunity. One of these attempts came in 1444, when the so-called Crusade of Varna was attacking their Balkan possessions.
Quotes are from a superb pair of essays by @Scholars_Stage, Luttwak's book on Byzantium gives a similar misreading of their strategic culture (but cast in a positive light). In truth, the Byzantines were very eager to fight, diplomacy and bribes were only used as stop-gaps when occupied on another front, and the caution advised by their military manuals was tactical and operational—not strategic.
@Scholars_Stage On the first point, it was a matter of simple geography. They campaigned aggressively whenever threatened, but their two primary theaters were separated by an enormous distance.
The caution urged on frontier commanders by the manuals (e.g. On Skirmishing) has to be interpreted in light of the larger strategic picture. Prematurely forcing a battle risked leaving all of Anatolia exposed before the imperial army could mobilize.
When the Seljuks arrived in the Middle East, they played a very similar role to the Franks in Dark Age Europe: protectors of an enfeebled religious authority and the enforcers of orthodoxy.🧵
The Franks who expanded into Gaul in the 6th century were unique among the barbarian kingdoms of Western Europe. Their king Clovis converted to Nicene Christianity, aligning himself with the surviving elite of the post-Roman West.
This stood in contrast to the Visigoths of Spain, Burgundians of southeast Gaul, Ostrogoths of Italy, and Vandals of North Africa, all of whom practiced Arianism and remained aloof of their subject populations.
It took a decade for a 17th-century financial crisis to travel from Spain to China.
The Spanish Crown suffered a pair of fiscal disasters in 1627-28 which eventually forced it to cut silver exports to the Far East, hammering a Ming China already teetering on the precipice.
The flood of New World silver into Asian markets in the 1500s crushed the value of metal currency, but also supercharged trade as new markets were opened for exports. The effect was the same from Syria to China.
To start with, one thing he gets right is that the classical Greeks deprecated the value of individual skill at arms—if anything, that would detract from their willingness to hold the line. Here’s a wonderful passage from the Spartan poet Tyrtaeus, who is mentioned:
Maintaining formation—παρ᾿ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες—is seen as the chief martial virtue. So how did they learn to do it?
Let’s look at the quote from Laches. Nicias suggests that young men should prepare for war by training at arms.
Easy to underestimate how thorough the breakdown of a centralized system can be. To put it in modern perspective, here's what it takes just to get the right 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 for the lasers in lithography machines used to etch the most advanced microchips (from "Chip War")...
That's a staggering amount of material, intellectual, and economic infrastructure required just to sustain one part of a very complicated process. Sustaining that infrastructure depends in turn on maintaining the process. If any one of several highly-centralized nodes is disrupted for any length of time, it becomes disproportionately more expensive and difficult to get it back online.
Systems are resilient and can recover from freak catastrophes. But anything that is likely to majorly disrupt one node is bound to introduce many other complications. Just as a hypothetical: a war over Taiwan that takes out TSMC, which manufactures 90% of advanced chips...