In Syria, there is a fortress whose origins date to 1031 that T. E. Lawrence, known to most Americans as Lawrence of Arabia, called "perhaps the best preserved and most wholly admirable castle in the world." Strategically located on a hilltop overlooking an ancient trade route, it is now a UNESCO World Heritage site—one whose heritage includes a lesson for the people of this country.
This stronghold, has carried many names in its long history, with the “Karak” part of the name coming from the Syriac word for
“fortress.” But it’s the word “Chevaliers” that is particularly pertinent to what I am about to say. “Cheval” is French for “horse.” These were the horsemen, the knights—specifically the Knights Hospitaller--who came to that region as part of the Crusades. Raymond IV of Toulouse (in France) captured an earlier fortification in 1099 then abandoned it as the First Crusade went on toward Jerusalem. Tancred, Prince of Galilee, took it over in 1110. In 1142 it was given by the count of Tripoli to the Knights Hospitaller, who used it as their headquarters during the Crusades, eventually lodging 2,000 soldiers there. King Andrew II of Hungary strengthened the outer walls in 1217, during the Fifth Crusade, adding to construction work the Knights had done. But it 1271 Krak fell to Mamluk Sultan Baibars, who in addition to using siege engines employed a forged letter ordering the castle’s surrender.
There were nine Crusades, as historians have characterized the series of alliances, attacks, and occupations during the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries. Many Muslims feel about that era the way many people in the Deep South feel about the Civil War/War Between the States. Possibly the term “crusader castle” has been unfamiliar to you before you read it here. Over there, crusaders castles stand as stark reminders of an era in which Christians invaded and conquered and sometimes brutally governed Islamic territory. Krak Des Chevalier is only one of a series of castles that guarded a border, and that was only one border in one country.
We may try as hard as we can to act responsibly and generously in places like Iraq and Afghanistan and Libya, but always we face the dilemma that the more we succeed, the more we arouse deep-seated resentments, which in some cases inspire young men to give their lives fighting the perceived invaders. Terrorists may kill dozens with suicide bombings and not be as tainted by the deeds as American troops are by a few accidental civilian deaths. We can win the wars, but we can’t win the histories.
It is my view that the anchor of all our foreign policy must be setting an example by our way of life at home. Go back into the history of World War II and you will find there were Nazi informants at the highest levels of their government, who could compare what they were witnessing at home with democratic practices abroad. No technique of torture will be as effective in getting people to talk with us as being worth talking to.
That is one reason why I have written what I have about the growing income inequality in this country. Not only is it bad for the economy (the last time it reached such proportions was right before the Great Depression), it is bad for national defense. If money rules, young people abroad will say “What’s the difference between that and the moneyed elites who do the dealing in our country?” Never mind the U. S. bond rating—if our moral rating plummets, we will learn very, very painfully that we are really only a very small part of this planet.