An Excerpt From Disciples of White Jesus

Mendicants, Military Orders, and Regionalism

536 BOOK REVIEWS of the importance of individual men and women and their often imperfect responses to the situations in which they found themselves. It is a balanced, humane and scholarly view of the past such as we might expect from the author of The Two Cities. Bernard Hamilton University ofNottingham Military Orders and Crusades. By Alan Forey. [Variorum Collected Studies Series , CS432.] Brookfleld,Vermont:Variorum, Ashgate Publishing Company. 1994. Pp. via, 318. $91.95 approx.) Few scholars have contributed as much to our knowledge of the military religious orders in the twelfth through fourteenth centuries as has Dr. Alan Forey. The present volume contains thirteen of his papers published between 1971 and 1991 , most of them in the 1980's. The first eight, devoted to the military orders as a whole, concern a wide range of important subjects which have often received only cursory attention in the historical literature: their emergence in the twelfth century,recruitment,novitiate and instruction oftheir membership, associated female orders, their role in the Spanish reconquest, in the ransoming of captives from Islam, in holy war against Christians, and in crusading proposals of the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries. Two essays discuss the Hospitallers: their initial militarization, and subsequent constitutional conflict and change within the order. One delves into the history of the short-lived Spanish Order of Mountjoy, and another into the long-lived but little-known English Order of St. Thomas of Acre. The book concludes with an interesting paper on the crusading vows of King Henry III of England. The author is a meticulous scholar and one is constantly impressed by both the chronological and geographical scope of the published primary and secondary sources upon which the articles in the volume are largely based. His capacity to integrate and balance the historical content of official documents with the narrative accounts of the chroniclers enables him to progress beyond the normal expectations of the evidence and to establish a meaningful evolution ofevents. He pursues controversial subjects, points out weaknesses in previously formulated arguments, establishes the present state of the question, and offers new and valuable interpretations while at the same time opening the way to additional avenues of research. He is as comfortable working with such broad matters as the military orders in the Iberian Peninsula over nearly two centuries as with the crucial metamorphosis of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem from a hospitaller to a military organization during the course of a generation. It is not surprising, given his comprehensive grasp of the literature and encyclopedic knowledge of the subject, that his work is so frequently resorted to by contemporary authors working in similar and related fields. Despite the wealth of information he provides, Dr. Forey's conclusions are BOOK REVIEWS 537 nevertheless cautious. He states, as a wise example for the profession, that "because of the paucity ofthe evidence available the most that can be expected of any interpretation is a reasoned and coherent hypothesis" (X/16). Although the subject matter it contains is less comprehensive, the wealth of references to the sources makes this volume a more useful historical tool than his recent work, The Military Orders (1992), which was apparently intended for undergraduates and a wider general readership. On the other hand, the fact that all quotations from the sources are, with the exception of his essay on the ransoming of captives, reproduced in the language of the original, makes a vital part of the present publication inaccessible to that same audience. Both specialist and other readers would best be served ifthe quotes were given in translation in the text and the original reproduced in the notes. The volume would also have profited from the incorporation of subjects into the existing index of persons and places, and a bibliography. Of the many well-documented hypotheses put forward in this book, two may be singled out for comment. The first concerns the author's contentions that the favor experienced by the Templars after receiving ecclesiastical approval at the Council ofTroyes (1 129) should not be "regarded as a serious threat to the fortunes of the Hospital" QX/86) and that the Hospitallers entered into a military role...

This chapter shows that in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the military order continued to appeal to many rulers, ecclesiastics, and nobles; people who saw a particular value in the knights of such an order, one that could not be found in a secular soldier. It argues that the idea of the military order changed drastically in the early modern period in order to remain relevant, becoming less austere to aid recruitment and taking on new duties in some cases rather distant from their original role in holy war. There are several pitfalls in studying the more obscure military orders like those founded in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In contrast, the older surviving military orders, the Teutonic Order, the Order of St Lazarus, and the Knights Hospitaller, maintain their religious role, yet have long since abandoned any military one. The Tudor proposal of 1540 demonstrates a military order being conceived for a specific purpose other than holy war: policing.

The Military Orders were religious orders originally founded to protect Christian pilgrims visiting the Holy Land. They gradually became responsible for the defence of the Holy Land itself and throughout the twelfth and thirteenth centuries they played a major role in every crusade to the Holy Land. Historians have long disagreed over how contemporaries viewed these institutions. Were they accepted as valid religious orders? How far did criticism reflect a decline in support for crusading? This book sets out to examine the contemporary primary sources without preconceptions, considering a wide variety of written evidence from across Europe and the Middle East, including literary sources and the legends which grew up around the Military Orders during the crusades.

During the High Middle Ages, a number of new religious orders developed in Palestine, in Spain, and along the northeastern frontier of Latin Europe for the defense of Christian lands, not with the more typical monastic weapons of fasting and prayer, but with the sword and lance. These subsequently became known as military orders, and they developed, alongside the mendicants and caritatives, as a distinctive subset of the religious life in the High Middle Ages. In light of the inherent pacifism of Christianity, the prevalence of contemporary peace movements, and the canonical prohibitions against the shedding of blood, or even the carrying of weapons by the clergy, the genesis of this variety of the religious life is a fascinating subject.1 Recently, a leading scholar of monastic spirituality has argued that the institution of the military orders, alongside that of lay brothers, was the most important innovation of the twelfth-century reform movement. These orders, he argues, all grew from the same root-that of monasticism-onto which was grafted the military life.' This observation typifies the conventional wisdom, namely, that whatever circumstances led to the creation of a particular military order, all of them came to practice a common vocation. A closer examination of individual exemplars of that tradition, however, reveals some fundamental differences among military orders. The most basic is one of Rule. In the twelfth century, there were two broad categories of religious observance within the Western Church. The first is monastic and was reflected in variant interpretations of the Rule of St. Benedict. The second is canonical, and it found expression in various versions of the Rule of St. Augustine. Unlike monks, whose primary focus is upon inner perfection, canons have a more public apostolate in service to churches or various caritative causes. Several military orders, such as the Orders of the Temple or the Spanish Order of Calatrava, followed customs that are monastic in derivation, while others, such as the Order of St. John and the Spanish Order of Santiago, proceeded from the canonical tradition. A few orders, most notably the Teutonic Order, combined the two rules in some fashion. Because of the two the canonical tradition of this era is more closely associated with the works of mercy-feeding the poor, sheltering the homeless, ransoming captives, etc. Perhaps some clue to the underlying significance of this difference in Rule might be had from an examination of the charitable apostolates pursued by individual military orders. In other words, did the practice of a canonical Rule impose a larger charitable commitment than that accepted by orders that followed monastic customs? One test of this supposition can be the relative weight given in these orders to the establishment and maintenance of shelters and hospitals. Anthony Luttrell, a prominent historian of the Order of St. John, argues that all military orders had a hospitaller function.3 But, even if he is completely correct on this point, Luttrell's observation does not render our investigation moot because attitudes are sometimes more important and revealing than mere actions. Caroline Walker Bynum argues persuasively in her Docere verbo et exemplo that the fundamental difference between monks and canons in the twelfth century was not one of work, because there are numerous examples of both monks and canons preaching, praying and doing good works. The distinction is rather one of attitude and focus. The canon sees his mission to teach by word and by example, whereas the monk sees himself as essentially a learner. The one focuses upon the improvement or edification of society, the other upon his own individual emotional and spiritual growth. The monk was more likely inclined toward sharing the plight of the poor, rather than ameliorating it. Indeed, Giles Constable argues that reformed monasticism in the twelfth century sought to reduce the social role of monasteries to tend to the personal religious needs of monks. …

The historiography of the crusade and reconquest in the Iberian Peninsula, and Portugal in particular, dates from the beginning of the twentieth century. Since the 1920s, it has been assumed that the reconquest was an output of the crusade in the Iberian West due to the so-called “Bull of Crusade” given to Portugal. The “idea of the Crusade” in Portugal was enhanced by Carl Erdmann in the 1930s and 1940s. This interpretation has been endorsed by the very context in which the Kingdom of Portugal emerged and developed throughout the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. From the 1980s onwards, the launching of systematic research on the military orders also reinforced this perspective. The deep affinity between the military orders and the crusades in the context of the reconquest is reflected in this historiography. These concepts—military orders, crusade, reconquest—have been studied without distinction being made between them, adding to the complexity of this analysis. Considering the historiographical achievements regarding the crusade, it is pertinent to rethink the associations between reconquest, crusade and military orders. Reading certain historical narratives is crucial for this analysis, although the written records do not fully deplete the subject. To reinforce the relevance of this approach, we will also consider royal and pontifical diplomas. Tracing the terminology used in these documents and identifying how these historical realities were referred to are the two main goals of this paper. For that purpose, three key moments of the Portuguese reconquest have been chosen: the conquests of Lisbon (1147), Silves (1189), and Alcácer do Sal (1217). These have one feature in common: the presence of crusaders travelling to the Holy Land, which supports the terminological analysis of those discourses. Different perspectives are embodied in these conquest narratives when compared with royal and papal diplomas on the same issue and of a similar chronology. Historiography on Reconquest, crusade, and the military orders is often conditioned by ideology, occasionally revealing a tendency to repeat ideas without debating them. This paper’s analysis is based on the aforementioned written records and is undertaken in order to verify when the word crusade/crusader appeared in Portugal, to assess to what extent the war of conquest in Portuguese territory followed the example of the holy war and to evaluate the commitment of the crown and the Holy See in this complex process.

This paper examines the materiality and use of religious relics by the Military Orders. Examples taken from the Knights Templar, the Hospitallers and the Teutonic Order and across Europe and the Holy Land from the 12th to 16th centuries are explored using historical and archaeological evidence; particular attention is paid to Baltic and Spanish case studies. A persistent desire for relics is identified and their means of accumulation explained within the wider context of Crusader memorabilia. In particular, the Military Orders acquired Passion and Life of Christ relics, as well as those of popular saints and patron saints who echoed their geographical and cultural associations. Female martyrs, especially St Catherine, were more popular with the knights than military saints amongst whom only St George was favoured. However, the Orders also promoted new cults around the relics of venerable individuals with whom they were closely associated. These artefacts were generally displayed in conventual chapels whose architecture, symbolism and setting are also discussed here. Overall, relics were central to the religiosity and identity of the Military Orders but the authors question just how distinctive their practices were.

Military orders have historically played a key role in defining borders, both in a mental sense, by favouring an awareness of alterity in the most peripheral territories (Christians against Muslims and Christians against Pagans), and also in more direct ways, as owners of land in these territories. This article1 discusses both the influence, in the broadest sense, of territory and periphery upon the medieval military orders, and the relationship between the crown and the military orders. It will be done through a comparative historical analysis of two cases: Portugal and Denmark in the 12th–16th centuries. Both countries were placed at the periphery of the Western world in the Middle Ages, and they were both active agents in the Crusading movement.

The introduction of gunpowder had a massive impact on the global military landscape. The degree of impact can be gauged from the fact that many military historians readily used the term “revolution” to describe the introduction of this new technology. Invented in China, gunpowder technology was disseminated across Asia, Middle East, and Europe by the Mongols. In every region, this new technology had a different impact on the existing military system and character of warfare. The Middle Eastern and Asian states incorporated gunpowder weapons in their military order. This led certain historians to coin the term “gunpowder empires” to describe the new politico-military orders that emerged in Eurasia. South Asia, during the period under review, refers to undivided India, which included Pakistan and Bangladesh. Hence, here the term South Asia will refer to the Indian subcontinent. Here gunpowder first made its appearance on the military scene in the form of rockets. By the fifteenth century, gunpowder weapons such as simple cannon started emerging. By the sixteenth century, different kinds of artillery (heavy and light), muskets, etc. became a common fixture in the armies of the states of northern and southern India. This in turn, has raised many questions among historians. How did the Indian powers transform their cavalry-centric armies into firepower-centric armies? Were gunpowder weapons fully incorporated into the Indian military system or was their presence peripheral? Were the reactions different in northern and southern India? Did the impact of gunpowder weapons in India diverge from that of Europe? The growing presence of Europeans, primarily the French East India Company and English East India Company and eventually establishment of colonial rule, led to the extension of the Military Revolution debate to South Asia. In Europe, artillery played a significant role in transforming the character of combat and accelerated the demise of cavalry-centric warfare. In pitched battles, gunpowder weapons gradually replaced heavy cavalry as the shock element. In sieges, it was given prime position for reducing European forts and fortified strongholds. This raised its own set of questions. Did the British win because they possessed superior firepower and fiscal and administrative resources? Did India experience a Military Revolution? If so, when? The different aspects of the introduction of gunpowder weapons and their impact are discussed in the bibliography.

Because certain movements in the Arab world of the 1930s and 1940s showed similarities to Mussolini’s and Hitler’s regimes, historians have drawn comparisons with the fascist and National Socialist dictatorships. But not even those arguing for the concept of a “generic fascism” are able to wholeheartedly subsume these movements under their fascist rubric. Fascism and National Socialism evolved in Europe, were shaped by the mood at the fin de siècle, became effective after the First World War in a unique political, social, economic and cultural atmosphere, and only lost their appeal in 1945 at the conclusion of the Second World War. They flourished in industrialized societies and aimed—in novel and twisted ways—at reversing the liberalization of 19th-century Europe. They emphasized power, national rebirth, military order and efficiency; and they were, in the case of Germany, driven by anti-Semitism and racism, resulting in totalitarian rule with genocidal consequences. National-socialist and fascist movements and regimes required the atmosphere and culture of liberal democracy as a foil—and liberal democracy was virtually nonexistent in the Near and Middle East. The preconditions for fascism were thus lacking. Colonial rule was still in place, traditional culture still prevailed in these mainly rural societies, and their small bourgeois parties showed greater allegiance to their clans than to liberal and secular ideologies.

Although French, German and British scholars of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries did much to lay the foundations of scholarly study of the Knights Templars, until the 1970s there were few good general histories of the Templars. Over the last three decades, there has been enormous growth in scholarly research and publication on the history of the Templars, although the mushrooming myths about the order make it difficult for non‐experts to distinguish between good and bad history. The Templars were a religious order, protected by the pope. They were also a military order, which fought against Islam in defence of Christian pilgrims and Christian territory and played a key role in the crusades. Their leading members were knights, but most of their members were not warriors, and included priests and women, who served God through prayer rather than by fighting. As well as castles and estates in the Middle East, they had property throughout Europe; they served kings and popes as diplomats and advisors. Far from being secretive – as the mythmakers claim – they opened their churches to local people and lodged travellers in their houses. They were pious men who shared the same faith as the Christians they protected. Historians disagree over where the initiative for the order came from – was it the idea of the first Templars themselves, or did Churchmen suggest it to them? The significance of the Templars’ operations in the ‘crusader kingdoms’ in Palestine and Syria has been much discussed. Historians also disagree over the causes of the trial of the Templars (1307–1312), and how far the Templars were innocent victims of a struggle for supremacy between the papacy and the monarchy of France.

Soon after the US-led invasion and subsequent occupation of Iraq in 2003, a range of authors commented critically on the profound economic changes that followed in the wake of the US presence. Under the tutelage of US diplomat Paul Bremer, the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) signed into law one hundred military orders that transformed the nature of Iraq's political economy.1 These laws included measures to privatize 200 state-owned companies, establish a flat tax of 15 percent with no distinction between individuals and foreign corporations, made it illegal to limit foreign ownership in the economy, and even restricted Iraqi farmers from saving their seeds from one season to the next (thereby compelling them to purchase seeds from large agribusiness conglomerates). Differing from the standard neoliberal prescriptions of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank only in the manner in which they were introduced—through military invasion rather than an agreement with the country's elite—it appeared to many that these new laws were designed to open up the Iraqi economy to a wave of US ownership. Many commentators expected that large US corporations would soon take advantage of the end of restrictions on foreign ownership to buy up wide swathes of the Iraqi economy—real estate, telecommunications, retail, finance, and, of course, the world's second-largest supplies of oil and gas (Looney 2003; Juhasz 2004; Whyte 2007).2

Topographies of Anticolonialism: The Ecopoetical Sublime in the Caucasus from Tolstoy to Mamakaev

This volume brings together recent and new research, with several items specially translated into English, on the sisters of the largest and most long-lived of the military-religious orders, the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem. In recent years there has been increasing scholarly interest in women's religious houses during the Middle Ages, with particular focus on the problems which they faced and the social needs which they performed. The military-religious orders have been largely excluded from this interest, partly because it has been assumed that women played little role in religious orders with a predominantly military purpose. Recent research has shown this to be a misconception. Study of the women members of these orders enables scholars to gain a deeper appreciation of the nature of hospitaller and military orders and of the role of women in religious life in general. The papers in this volume explore the roles which the Hospitaller sisters performed within their order; examine the problems of having men and women living within the same or adjoining houses; study relations between the order and the patrons of its women's houses; and consider the career of a prominent Hospitaller woman who became a saint. This volume will be of interest not only to scholars of the military-religious orders and of the Hospital of St John in particular, but also to scholars of monastic history and to those with a concern for women's history during the middle ages. Contents: Preface; 'Introduction: A survey of Hospitaller women in the Middle Ages', by Anthony Luttrell and Helen J. Nicholson; 'Women and the military orders in the 12th and 13th centuries', by Alan Forey; 'Men and women of the Hospitaller, Templar and Teutonic Orders: 12th to 14th centuries', by Francesco Tommasi; 'The sisters of the Order of St John at Mynchin Buckland', by Myra Struckmeyer; 'The Aragonese Hospitaller monastery of Sigena: its early stages, 1188–c.1210', by Luis Garcia-Guijarro Ramos; 'Margaret de Lacy and the Hospital of St John at Aconbury, Herefordshire', by Helen J. Nicholson; 'The Hospitaller sisters in Frisia', by Johannes A. Mol; 'Fleur de Beaulieu (d. 1347), Saint of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem', by Pauline L'Hermite-Leclercq; 'The female monastery of San Bevignate at Perugia: 1325–c.1507', by Francesco Tommasi; Index of names and places.

Scholars usually consider the military orders as essentially involved in the agrarian economy and seigniorial society. However, this understanding is not entirely correct. All military orders were connected to the urban world from their origins and they built close spiritual and economic ties with urban societies. The aim of this article is to present some of the most recent research that has reappraised the role of the military orders in medieval towns. This survey is limited to the cases of the Temple and the Hospital, and it considers the question mainly in southern Europe (northern Italy, the Iberian Peninsula, and southern France), including some brief comparisons with the Holy Land. The article first discusses the ways in which commanderies contributed to the “urban fabric” by examining the conventual buildings and the orders’ policies of urbanization. Then, it turns to the social and spiritual networks and to the economic practices that the brethren managed to develop in places where several other churches were already deeply rooted. Finally, the study of urban commanderies enables us to better understand the transition from traditional monasticism to the new mendicant orders, with whom the military orders shared many similarities. Despite a few exceptions, it is nevertheless true that the economic activity and the spirituality of the military orders were in complete harmony with the urban expansion of the High Middle Ages.