Both sources indicate that, by the end of September 1187, Saladin intended to sack Jerusalem. According to Imad al-Din, the sultan told Balian at their initial meeting: ‘You will receive neither amnesty nor mercy! Our only desire is to inflict perpetual subjection upon you…We shall kill and capture you wholesale, spill men’s blood and reduce the poor and the women to slavery.’ This is confirmed in Saladin’s letter, which noted that in response to the Franks’ first requests for terms ‘we refused point blank, wishing only to shed the blood of the men and to reduce the women and children to slavery’. At this point, however, Balian threatened that, unless equitable conditions of surrender were agreed, the Latins would fight to the very last man, destroying Jerusalem’s Islamic Holy Places and executing the thousands of Muslim prisoners held inside the city. This was a desperate gambit, but it forced the sultan’s hand, and begrudgingly he agreed a deal. The eyewitness sources reveal an underlying awareness that this accord might be perceived as a sign of Ayyubid weakness. In his letter, Saladin carefully justified his decision, stressing that his emirs had convinced him to accept a settlement so as to avoid any further unnecessary loss of Muslim life and to secure a victory that was already all but won. Imad al-Din reiterated this idea, describing at length a ‘council meeting’, during which the sultan sought the advice of his leading lieutenants.⁷⁸

This evidence offers a glimpse of Saladin’s own mindset in 1187. It suggests that his primary instinct was not to present himself as a just and magnanimous victor. Nor was he immediately concerned to parallel his own actions with those of the First Crusaders or, through some grand gesture, to reveal Islam as a force for peace. In fact, neither the sultan’s letter nor Imad al-Din’s account makes any explicit reference to the 1099 massacre. Instead, Saladin actually felt the need to explain and excuse his failure to butcher the Franks inside Jerusalem once a breach in the city’s defences was made. This was because, above all else, he feared an attack upon his image as a warrior dedicated to the jihad–as a ruler who had forced Islam to accept Ayyubid domination on the promise of war against the Franks.

This insight might cause some re-evaluation of Saladin’s character and intentions, but it should not prompt the pendulum to swing towards a total, polar opposite. The sultan’s behaviour must be judged in its proper context, against contemporary standards. By this measure, Saladin’s conduct in autumn 1187 was relatively lenient.⁷⁹ According to the customs of medieval warfare–which, broadly speaking, were shared and recognised by Levantine Muslims and Frankish Christians alike–the inhabitants of a besieged city who staunchly refused to capitulate right up until the moment that their fortifications were breached or overcome could expect harsh treatment. Typically, in such a situation, the defenders’ opportunity to negotiate had passed and their men would be killed, their women and children enslaved. Even if the final settlement in Jerusalem was heavily influenced by Balian’s threats, by the norms of the day the terms that Saladin did agree were generous–and, more important still, they were honoured.

The sultan also acted with a marked degree of courtesy and clemency in his dealings with his aristocratic ‘equals’ among the Franks. Balian of Ibelin was forgiven for breaking his promise not to remain in Jerusalem, and an escort was even provided to take Maria Comnena to Tyre. Reynald of Châtillon’s widow, Stephanie of Milly, was likewise released without any demand for ransom.

The conditions of surrender settled upon around 30 September contained a number of fundamental provisions. Jerusalem’s Christian populace was given forty days to buy their freedom at a prescribed cost of ten dinars for a man, five for a woman and one for a child. In addition, they would be given safe conduct to the Latin outposts at Tyre or Tripoli and the right to carry away their personal possessions. Only horses and weaponry had to be left behind. After forty days those unable to pay the ransom would be taken captive. In the main, this agreement was followed and, in some instances, Saladin showed even greater generosity. Balian for instance was able, in return for one lump sum of 30,000 dinars, to secure the release of 7,000 Christians, and attempts appear to have been made to arrange a general amnesty for the poor.

Once enacted, the terms of capitulation resulted in a near-constant stream of refugees from Jerusalem, as bands of disarmed Franks were escorted to the coast. In practice, the system of ransoms proved to be an administrative nightmare for Saladin’s officials. Imad al-Din admitted that corruption, including bribery, was rife, and he bemoaned the fact that only a fraction of the money owed was ever lodged in the sultan’s treasury. Many Latins apparently slipped through the net: ‘Some people were let down from the walls on ropes, some carried out hidden in luggage, some changed their clothes and went out dressed as [Muslim] soldiers.’ The sultan’s willingness to allow the Franks to depart with their possessions also limited the amount of plunder. Patriarch Heraclius apparently left the city weighed down with treasures, but ‘Saladin made no difficulties, and when he was advised to sequestrate the whole lot for Islam, replied that he would not go back on his word. He took only the ten dinars from [Heraclius], and let him go to Tyre under heavy guard.’ At the end of the allotted forty days, a total of 7,000 men and 8,000 women were said to have remained unransomed, and they were taken captive and enslaved.⁸⁰

On balance, Saladin cannot be said to have acted with saintly clemency that autumn, but neither can he be accused of ruthless barbarism or duplicity. In the version of events he broadcast to the Muslim world, the sultan clearly presented himself as a mujahid willing, even eager, to put the Jerusalemite Franks to the sword, but it is impossible to determine whether this was his true intent. As it was, once confronted by Balian’s threats, Saladin chose negotiation over confrontation and went on to show a considerable degree of restraint in his dealings with the Latins.

Jerusalem’s triumphant reconquest marked the apogee of Saladin’s career to date. Crucially, he could now draw upon this epochal achievement to legitimise his unification of Islam and to refute any charges of self-serving despotism. These two themes of astounding victory and ‘innocence’ affirmed permeated his letter to the caliph–they also formed the backbone of a further seventy letters written by Imad al-Din that autumn, publicising the Ayyubids’ success.⁸¹

Jerusalem repossessed

The day of Jerusalem’s formal surrender was selected with some care, so as to emphasise the sultan’s image as a proven champion of the faith. Centuries earlier, Muhammad himself was said to have made his Night Journey to Jerusalem, ascending from there to Heaven on 2 October. Drawing clear parallels between his own life and that of the Prophet, Saladin chose that same date in 1187 to make his triumphal entrance. Once within the walls of the Holy City, the transformative work of Islamicisation began apace. Many Christian shrines and churches were stripped of their treasures and closed; some were converted into mosques, madrasas (teaching colleges) or religious convents. The fate of the Holy Sepulchre was debated intensely, with some advocating its total destruction. More moderate voices prevailed, arguing that Christian pilgrims would still continue to revere the site even if the building were razed to the ground, and Saladin was reminded that Umar, Jerusalem’s first Muslim conqueror, had left the church untouched.

The spiritual dimension of Saladin’s achievement was manifested most clearly in the assiduous care with which he and his men set about ‘purifying’ Jerusalem’s holy places. Chief among these were two sites within the Haram as-Sharif (now also known as the Temple Mount)–the Dome of the Rock and the Aqsa mosque. In the eyes of Islam, the Franks had subjected both of these sacred buildings to the gravest desecration. Now this work was dutifully undone. Under Latin rule, the Dome–built by Muslims in the late seventh century and believed to house the rock upon which Abraham prepared to sacrifice his son and from which Muhammad ascended to heaven during his Night Journey–had been transformed into the Templum Domini (Church of Our Lord), its resplendent golden-hued dome adorned with a huge cross. This symbol was ripped down immediately, the Christian altar within and all pictures and statues removed, and rose water and incense used to cleanse the entire structure. After this, one Muslim eyewitness proudly proclaimed that ‘the Rock has been cleansed of the filth of the infidels by the tears of the pious’, emerging in a state of purity, like ‘a young bride’. Later, an inscription was placed upon the Dome, commemorating the sultan’s achievement: ‘Saladin has purified this sacred house from the polytheists.’