Crak Des Chevaliers

Over nine hundred years ago in 1095, for the purported reason of protecting the rights of access to the holy sites of Jerusalem, the Western world, with Papal blessing and encouragement, launched a crusade to control the Holy Land and win it back for Christendom (Western this time) four hundred years after Byzantine Christendom lost it to Islam.

Never penetrating that far inland the crusaders nevertheless succeeded, through eight subsequent crusades, in holding various regions of modern day Israel, Lebanon and Syria for almost two hundred years. To aid them in this task, against an indigenous population discouraging their presence, they built a series of impressive castles. One of these, perhaps the most famous, is what the tourist industry and the West in general calls 'Crak Des Chevaliers', the seat of the Knights Hospitalliers from 1144 to 1271. Built on a former Kurdish castle, after the crusaders left it was rebuilt and developed further by the Mamlukes. So today it's not exactly as it was then, but close enough we're told. Certainly it looks European, with its uncompromising stentorian walls of fixed, cubic zeal. No wavy lunar contours here, no minarets imitating space rockets.

Unlike Jerusalem, Crak Des Chevaliers never fell to the famous Kurdish Islamic hero and warrior, Salah al-Dīn (Saladin), despite his attempt to recover it in 1188. In fact it was never conquered at all but only surrendered to the army of Sultan Baibars in 1271 when the Knights Hospitallers realised the game was up. Luckily, for them personally, however, it wasn't. All of the 200 or so Christian Knights were granted safe passage to the sea in an example of Islamic magnaminity. 

Originally I was going to visit the castle on my way to Hama from Lattakia on a return loop from the northern town of Aleppo, which I was planning to visit next. But I met a very pleasant French and Georgian couple on the bus from Palmyra and decided to change my plans. I also realised seeing the castle was a priority and wasn't sure how pushed I'd be for time later as my fifteen day visa drew to a close.

Getting to the castle is difficult. Most visit from Hama or Homs on day trips but I agreed with the French-Georgian couple that it would be nice to stay the night there so decided to do just that. After a shared bus from Homs we checked into a semi-luxurious hotel overlooking the castle. From my hotel window I could look out and see a clear and stunning view of the castle.

Tired and needing rest, I decided to take it easy and go inside the castle early tomorrow morning before the ferocity of the sun kicked in. So, from the hands of a very camp, charming restauranteur, I indulged in a wonderful meal that stuffed my stomach so much I had to crash out for a couple of hours. Once recovered, I walked to the castle entrance as the sun went down. A young girl danced expressively, surrounded by applauding men, seemingly entirely unself-conscious, in an vaguely erotic manner that I found reassuring. If the women can do that, it's surely a good sign.

I walked down the winding road to the nearby village, where I saw my first picture of Bashar Al-Assad with Nasrallah, the head of Hezbollah, an image one presumes that might strike terror, or at least contempt, into the hearts of Northern Israelis. I found myself thinking : Ok, Nasrallah, you have the right, I suppose, to defend Shia in southern Lebanon from Israeli incursions; but is it necessary to be smiling all the time like some honey monster? Israelis kill your people, yes, and other Lebanese too, but this doesn't mean you don't kill them in return, does it? Or indeed, other Lebanese people as well. Are we sure killing is something to smile about? Still, I should be fair. I haven't seen all his posters. Also, I suppose it might not be that when he smiles it's Israelis dying that he's thinking of. Who knows, perhaps he's in some kind of mystical ecstasy. Hezbollah is very religious, after all. Or maybe he's just trying to reassure and inspire his people in their suffering. After all, it's not only the Israelis they have to worry about. As the poorest community in Lebanon, there's also the poverty and the other Lebanese. Maybe the smiling is so striking just because one doesn't expect it from someone classified as a terrorist.

I really didn't fancy the walk back to the castle. Sending out thought signals asking for a lift actually worked after awhile, and I was driven by a nice, I think rather wealthy, Syrian guy all the way to the top. Interestingly, he lives in America and is even a US citizen, having married an American. This is not that easy to do, since the Americans, perhaps rightly, suspect many Syrians only want to do this for the passport.

Up by the castle the dancing girl had stopped and I sat by some Syrians for a tea. Two men spoke very good English. One of them lived in Dubai, while the other was his brother. More aimiable curioisty about why I was here, and another opportunity to be corrected in the faulty pronunciation of the few Arabic phrases I'd managed to pick up.