Western vs Eastern
The Crusades
As I continue exploring the paradigm of the “Differential of Life,” the second topic I want to consider is how this mechanism operates when people come from markedly different cultural and economic backgrounds. As I noted in my previous entry, the philosophical implications of sacrificing self for another profoundly shape how we live and how we understand our own existence.
I spent some time reflecting on cultural and economic differences and was drawn to the long-standing tension between the Christian West and the Muslim East. Looking around the world—especially in recent months—I, like many others, wonder where it will end.
Where does this disparity over cultural views begin?
For many historians the starting point is a sermon preached by Pope Urban II in 1095, after emissaries from Emperor Alexius I of Constantinople sought help. At that time Constantinople was the seat of the patriarch of the Eastern Orthodox Church, and Alexius felt threatened by Islam’s westward expansion, which had taken control of Jerusalem and other traditionally Christian regions. Facing the potential loss of his economic base, he appealed to the West.
Urban II, who exerted great influence across the Holy Roman Empire, had few serious rivals within Europe. Following the age of Charlemagne, Europe drifted into a dark period where the poor grew poorer and the rich richer. Social inequality was rife, and even disparities among the nobility troubled many. Superstition flourished, and some believed the “darkness” was divine judgment on sin. Internal conflicts among European states were also common.
Whether Urban II sought to consolidate his power or acted purely from spiritual conviction is debated. Regardless, his preaching catalyzed the First Crusade. He called for the liberation of Jerusalem from the Seljuk Turks, claiming they denied Christians the freedom to worship. His promises of forgiveness of sins and material inducements appealed to Europe’s masses and nobility alike. As spiritual head of the Church, his message helped unite nobles and assemble one of the largest armies Europe had seen.
It cannot be denied that the Crusades had a spiritual component; many saw them as an opportunity to carry Christ’s message to non-Christians. Yet others viewed them as a chance to escape poverty, given the known wealth of Islamic lands. Some leaders, like Godfrey of Bouillon, were devout and other-worldly in outlook; others, such as his brother Baldwin of Boulogne, chased wealth and opportunity.
The story of the Crusades is also one of barbarity and bloodshed. With promised remission of sins, many felt unburdened by the commandment, “You shall not kill,” and committed terrible acts under the guise of spiritual warfare—against Muslims, Jews, and other perceived unbelievers. When the Crusaders first captured Jerusalem, chroniclers describe a massacre so extensive that riders “rode in blood up to their knees and bridle reins.”
History, however, shows another side
When the Crusaders struck, many Muslims initially believed it was merely an attack from the Byzantine Empire rather than a united European effort. Divisions within the Muslim world hindered a cohesive response. Significant gains in repelling the invaders came later, under leaders such as N?r al-D?n and Saladin. From the Muslim perspective, the Crusaders were infidels and untrustworthy; Christians, in turn, often portrayed Muslims as uncivilised.
Saladin eventually reversed many of the Crusaders’ early victories, famously retaking Jerusalem in 1187. Crucially, the way he conducted that campaign illustrates the “differential of life.” Rather than replicating the earlier slaughter, he showed restraint and compassion. He permitted the payment of ransoms so residents could depart in safety, and when it became apparent that many were too poor to pay, he covered ransoms from his own purse. His generosity prompted followers to do likewise. He then allowed Jerusalem’s remaining inhabitants to practice their faith without persecution.
Whatever other ruthlessness may be attributed to him, this episode reveals tolerance and measured mercy after victory. It offers a lesson in exercising the “differential of life” within our own societies.
The World Today
How can we, as fellow inhabitants of this earth, overcome prejudice and intolerance?
Across centuries, both sides in the Christian–Muslim encounter have committed atrocities. Yet examples like Saladin’s restraint point to a path forward. If cultures are to live side by side—or even across continents—we must elevate our awareness of shared humanity. To avert broader conflict, we need honest examination—personal and public—of past failures. Lasting peace requires a willingness to sacrifice self at community, and even national, levels.
As I wrote earlier, people in war sometimes set aside personal prejudices for a greater good. Our societies must learn from such examples. Not every soldier, past or present, achieves this, but the best examples—here and in my previous post—give us our greatest chance at harmony and longevity on a societal scale.
Any multicultural nation holds the extremes of this paradigm in tension: fundamentalism and compassion. Whether we can realise this “differential of life” remains to be seen. Our failure to do so could imperil life as we know it.