Episode 236
The Muwahhidun Empire was undeniably a great power.
A nation that had expanded its territory across the Maghreb and into Europe couldn’t possibly be weak.
That is, if it could only wield the strength it inherently possessed.
If the subjects loyal to the Caliph could unite against the Ayyubid invasion.
Then, the mere tens of thousands of troops led by Al-Adil would never be able to capture the capital, Marrakesh.
The reason Al-Nasir kept insisting on a final stand, like a parrot repeating itself, was because he couldn’t shake off this belief.
As the ruler of this vast empire, he couldn’t fathom surrendering to the likes of Al-Adil, who wasn’t even leading the full Ayyubid force, nor was he the Sultan himself.
The thought of raising a white flag to the Sultan’s brother gnawed at his pride, preventing his mind from fully returning to reality.
“We can win… If we just fight properly, we should win. Why aren’t we fighting?”
No matter how much he pondered, he couldn’t understand why things had come to this.
His subordinates, who had bravely followed his orders in battles against European nations, were now collectively defying him.
It wasn’t just defiance; many had already surrendered to the Ayyubids, a fact the Caliph was not ignorant of.
Why?
What had the Ayyubids done for the Maghreb that would make his people betray him and side with them?
He couldn’t understand it, nor did he want to.
Yet, there was still a glimmer of hope.
With such a long expeditionary force, if they could win just once, the Ayyubid army would inevitably crumble.
The traitorous Amirs would surely return to his side at the first sign of Ayyubid hesitation.
The tide could turn in an instant if they could just push back the enemy once, despite the current overwhelming momentum.
But every time he saw his ministers, who claimed total war was impossible, his frustration boiled over.
“At least Abdallah will be different.”
His loyal brother, who had stood by him all this time.
Proving that in the end, blood is thicker than water, his brother understood his heart.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a servant announced Abdallah’s request for an audience.
With no reason to refuse, he allowed him in, and his brother entered, clad in armor, looking as if he were about to march into battle.
“Oh! Are you finally planning to lead the troops? No matter how hard the Ayyubids try, after months of marching, they must be exhausted. If we fight with all our might, we might win more easily than expected, so don’t worry too much.”
“Your Majesty, I must ask one last time. Must we truly fight the Ayyubids to the bitter end? Even if we gather all our forces, there are fewer than ten thousand willing to fight Al-Adil’s elite troops. It’s practically a suicide mission.”
“Ah! It’s that kind of weak talk that keeps the soldiers from rallying. If the leadership shows a willingness to fight to the death, the lower ranks will naturally follow!”
To see even his trusted brother showing such weakness was truly exasperating…
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but we cannot let your pride lead us all, including the innocent citizens of the capital, to ruin. This is not just my opinion; it is the will of everyone.”
“What? What are you saying…?”
“Let me say it again. We cannot follow your orders.”
A tense silence filled the room.
Abdallah’s voice trembled slightly, but it carried a firm resolve.
“We are not afraid to fight. If there were even a slight chance of victory, if this war were for the future, we would gladly walk the dangerous path.”
“I’m telling you, we can win! If we just stall them a little, time will be on our side!”
“If anyone’s going to wither from being stalled, it’s us. Face reality. We have no allies left. And it’s you, Your Majesty, who created this situation. Surely you must realize that?”
Abdallah thought he should have done this long ago.
If they had risen up before the Ayyubids intervened, they wouldn’t be in this absurd situation of handing the Maghreb over to them.
But even if it’s like closing the barn door after the horse has bolted, this is the right thing to do.
The Muwahhidun horse may have fled, but a new one will come to live here.
At least the others, apart from the Caliph, should survive.
“We have served you with patience, loyalty, and endurance, believing that one day you would change your mind and return to your former self. But now that we know that’s not possible, we must make our choice.”
“You’re insane. Guards! Drag these traitors out…”
The Caliph, trying to shout with authority, realized something was amiss and looked around.
The soldiers on guard and even the servants had stepped back, aligning themselves with Abdallah.
The Caliph, the ruler of Muwahhidun, found himself literally alone.
“Your Majesty, please come quietly. They won’t harm you.”
“You mad traitors! Abdallah! Do you dare to sell me out? Do you think God will forgive a brother who betrays his own flesh and blood to secure his position?”
“Well, a brother who sends his sibling to certain death won’t be forgiven either. Everyone, escort him respectfully.”
Abdallah was proclaimed the interim Caliph in the now vacant palace of Marrakesh, with the support of all.
His first order was to send an envoy to surrender to the Ayyubids.
Upon hearing the news of the Muwahhidun Caliph’s replacement and their surrender, the Ayyubids accepted it without resistance.
Naturally, this news crossed the Strait of Gibraltar and reached Europe.
The unexpectedly swift end to the war left France in a state of shock.
More precisely, the kings of the Iberian Peninsula, still residing in France, were in an uproar.
“What on earth is happening? Has Muwahhidun already fallen?”
“They said it would take at least years for such a vast empire to collapse.”
“So what happens to the Maghreb now? Do we negotiate with the Ayyubids? What if they claim control over Andalusia?”
Currently, the countries of the Iberian Peninsula and France were discussing the ownership of Andalusia, but there was no guarantee the Ayyubids wouldn’t interfere.
However, Philip II was confident that Saladin wouldn’t overreach.
The Maghreb was vast.
If the Ayyubids absorbed the Maghreb, their territory would stretch across North Africa, below the Anatolian Peninsula, and all the way to Jerusalem.
That would make them a colossal empire, comparable to the ancient Umayyad Caliphate.
But even the Umayyad Caliphate didn’t last a hundred years.
In all of Western history, only the Roman Empire at its peak had a larger territory, and it too fell in less than a century.
Saladin must know that expanding recklessly would only increase the likelihood of repeating the Umayyad’s fate.
A simple-minded conqueror might be tempted by the allure of expansion, but Philip II was certain he wouldn’t make such a choice.
And if he wouldn’t, then neither would Saladin.
However, not overreaching doesn’t mean having no ambition.
A king without desires is a fool, and if such a king exists, he is merely a weak ruler.
A capable king must balance relentless ambition and desire with sharp intellect.
Philip II saw Saladin as such a person.
‘If it were me, I wouldn’t directly demand Andalusia. The Ayyubids have no right to it. But with Muwahhidun, it’s a different story. They can claim rights to the Andalusian region.’
For France, it would be best if the Ayyubids completely destroyed Muwahhidun and annexed the Maghreb.
Of course, the likelihood of that happening was slim.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you need not worry about Andalusia. France will take responsibility and negotiate with the Ayyubids.”
“Then you’re saying there will be no issues with us receiving the central region of the Iberian Peninsula?”
“Of course. If anything goes wrong, I will personally ensure everything is restored to its original state.”
Philip II reassured the Iberian kings and concluded the meeting.
The central region of the Iberian Peninsula, difficult to manage, could be handed over to Ferdinand III, allowing them to divide it among themselves.
That had been the plan from the start, and as long as France secured the southern region bordering the Strait of Gibraltar, it was enough.
But he hadn’t expected the Ayyubids to dismantle Muwahhidun so swiftly.
Riding from Cairo to Marrakesh alone would take nearly three months, so how could the war end in less than four?
It was as if they had simply ridden straight through, and the country collapsed on its own.
This wasn’t about the strength of the Ayyubid army or the brilliance of Saladin or Al-Adil; it was a different issue entirely.
Such an outcome was only possible if the opposing nation was in a dire state to begin with.
‘When I saw him at the last council, he didn’t seem like such a person. It seems even the slightest trigger can lead to a person’s downfall.’
Philip II briefly felt a pang of bitterness as he witnessed the once-terrifying empire of Europe crumble into insignificance. But it took less than ten seconds for him to shake it off and return to his usual self.
The fallen are just that—fallen. Those who survive deserve to claim their rightful spoils.
Waiting for news to trickle in from beyond the Strait of Gibraltar would be too late.
They needed to be proactive, to seize the initiative and secure a favorable position.
Fortunately, the person with the best means and abilities to do so was right beside him.
And as luck would have it, a perfect pretext had just presented itself to set things in motion.
“Prophet, now that the Almohads have been dealt with, shouldn’t we also put an end to the title of Caliph? And while we’re at it, perhaps it’s time to do away with the meaningless title of Pope as well.”
Emperor of the Church, God’s representative.
Such anachronistic titles no longer held any significance.
Though the proposal was transparently self-serving, the Prophet would not refuse.
Philip II had long abandoned any desire to be the leader of his era.
Instead, he intended to be the horse that carried the leader, racing ahead of everyone else.
Just as he was doing now.