Two men of honor at a time when there was a great need for honor

On September 20th, 1187, Saladin began the siege of Jerusalem, which figures in Ridley Scott’s epic, Kingdom of Heaven. Most of you know I am something of a purist when it comes to historical films or novels, so you won’t be surprised by my verdict on this film. It is visually stunning, but historical fantasy. They got only two facts right about the real Balian d’Ibelin—his name and that he was the savior of the Holy City.

Balian was one of the few lords to escape the debacle at Hattin, and he asked Saladin for a safe-conduct so he could go to Jerusalem and bring his wife and children to safety. Saladin agreed, on condition he remain in the city for only 24 hours. But upon his arrival, Balian discovered the city in an understandable state of panic, for Saladin intended to take Jerusalem by storm, which always meant a bloodbath when a medieval city was not able to surrender, an orgy of killing, rape, and looting. The capture of Jerusalem during the First Crusade had led to a massacre of the Muslims and Jews in the city, with crusader chroniclers boasting that blood ran in the streets up to the ankles of knights’ horses. It was to avenge this notorious slaughter that Saladin had vowed to take Jerusalem by force, slaying or enslaving all of those sheltering within the city.

There was no one to organize a defense of Jerusalem and Balian was torn between his promise to the sultan and the pleading of the citizens, who begged him to stay. He finally sent word to Saladin, explaining his plight and asking to be released from his promise. Yes, there were men in the MA who took honor seriously. Saladin not only agreed, he permitted Balian’s wife and children to leave the city and provided an escort to see them to safety. Balian then tried to rally the city’s defense, which included knighting the sons of townspeople since they had so few fighting men. They managed to stave off the Saracen army for a time, but they knew they were doomed and Balian made a desperate gamble. He told Saladin that if the city were not allowed to surrender and the citizens ransomed, they would kill all the Muslim prisoners in the city, destroy all of the Muslim holy sites, and fight to the death since they had nothing to lose.

He must have been convincing for Saladin agreed to a surrender. Ransoms were set—10 dinars for a man, 5 for a woman, and 1 for a child. When Balian said there were about 20,000 poor in the city who could not raise these ransoms, Saladin agreed to release 7,000 of them for a lump sum payment of 30,000 dinars. Henry II had been providing money for the support of the kingdom for a number of years and Balian used what was left of this money now to buy the freedom for as many of the poor as he could. Those who could not raise the ransom were destined for the slave markets in Damascus and Cairo, but there were individual acts of mercy. Although the Patriarch of Jerusalem had departed the city with as much of the Church’s wealth as he could carry away, which shocked the Saracen chroniclers, Saladin’s brother, al-Adil, asked the sultan for the gift of 1,000 of these slaves. When Saladin agreed, al-Adil freed them all. Although the patriarch was not willing to use the Church plate and relics to save these poor souls, he did ask Saladin for 700 as a personal favor and again the sultan agreed. Saladin also granted Balian’s request for 500 of them and then ordered the release of the elderly. He gave widows and orphans money to tide them over on their journey to safety and made sure that none of his army plundered the city or harmed the captive Christians. It has been estimated that as many as 11,000 were taken off into slavery, but thousands of others were spared thanks to Balian’s efforts, Saladin’s mercy, and Henry II’s money.

So Balian definitely deserves a film of his own for the role he played in the salvation of Jerusalem, just not the one he got. He was a member of the powerful d’Ibelin family, Lord of Nablus by his marriage to Maria Comnena, former Queen of Jerusalem, stepfather to the future queen, Isabella, who would wed one of my favorites, Henri of Champagne, so I envisioned Balian spinning in his grave like the proverbial top after he was transformed into an illegitimate French blacksmith who learned knightly skills on his two month journey to the Holy Land and ran off with Queen Sybilla (who was never his lover and had been dead for 3 years) at film’s end.