Episode 237
Caliph and Pope.
The titles of the highest religious leaders representing Islam and Christianity carry immense weight just by their names alone.
The Pope, known as the Supreme Pontiff, holds not just this title but many others.
He is the highest priest of the universal church, the supreme bishop of the entire church, the head of the Vatican City State, and the vicar of Christ.
Despite these numerous titles symbolizing the Pope, many of them have lost their significance over time.
This issue isn’t exclusive to the Pope.
In fact, the situation is even more pronounced for the Islamic Caliph.
The Caliph is known by many titles: God’s representative, the commander of the faithful, the leader of the Islamic community, and so on.
However, as Islam and Christianity became intertwined as world religions, using such titles has become awkward.
The Eastern Orthodox Church of the Byzantine Empire almost got caught up in similar controversies, but the emperor quickly aligned himself under the church, naturally avoiding the issue.
The Byzantine Emperor adjusted his position to become the first priest of the Byzantine Church, and the highest priest of Constantinople wasn’t much different.
In a way, it was their early relinquishment of traditional status that sparked the current debate.
To be more precise, it was once again the mastermind of schemes, Philip II, who brought this topic to the forefront.
Ayyub’s unexpectedly swift conquest of the Almohads and the subsequent annexation of Andalusia disrupted plans for negotiations.
If Saladin were to acknowledge the annexation of Andalusia and demand other concessions, Philip II would have to bear some losses.
If negotiations were inevitable, he needed to ensure he held the upper hand.
Thus, Philip II raised the issue of the ambiguous titles of religious leaders.
“Al-Nasir’s downfall was partly due to his insistence on retaining the title of Caliph. Even though the Almohads have fallen, someone might rise to claim the title again. If Ayyub doesn’t fully annex the Almohads and establishes a new leader, they might claim the title of Caliph. We need to settle these titles now to prevent future confusion.”
With cardinals in Paris for the talks, involving the Vatican wasn’t difficult.
The Vatican, suddenly dragged onto the stage to relinquish the Pope’s title, might find it absurd, but that was of no concern to Philip II.
After all, his arguments were logical, leaving little room for counterarguments.
“With the Almohad Caliph gone, I believe the future ruler of the region, Ayyub’s leader, the Sultan, and the Vatican’s representative should meet to discuss this seriously. If the Prophet permits, I’ll take responsibility for organizing this.”
In essence, he was asking for permission to introduce a new topic of discussion, one that would overshadow the issue of Andalusia.
Given the timing, it was indeed a moment to reconsider the titles of Caliph and Pope, and I had no reason to refuse.
If anything, I was grateful for the distraction.
“The Byzantine Emperor has already set a good example, so we can adjust accordingly.”
“Understood. Since I brought it up, I’ll see it through to the end.”
As soon as I gave my approval, Philip II sent an envoy to Cairo and prepared everything for a trip to Egypt before the envoy even returned.
Simultaneously, he drafted a comprehensive report on future plans, assuming the Vatican’s consent, and submitted it to me.
His level of preparedness was truly commendable.
As Philip II anticipated, the Vatican responded that they were already considering adjusting their position, much like the Byzantine Emperor.
Surprisingly, the title of Pope, which had endured for over a thousand years, was smoothly adapting to the times.
“What is this all about?”
“France and the Vatican in Italy have officially raised the issue. They want to unify the titles of religious leaders and are asking for cooperation.”
Ayyub, still reveling in the swift conquest of the vast Almohad Empire, was puzzled by the sudden controversy over titles.
However, upon reflection, he realized that Europe’s request for cooperation wasn’t entirely unexpected.
The Byzantine Empire had recently introduced a new co-emperor and subtly altered the phrase that the emperor was the head of the Orthodox Church.
Ayyub had witnessed firsthand the resistance among Almohad followers to the title of Caliph.
Some of the emirs who had crossed into Egypt remarked that if Al-Nasir had only relinquished the title of Caliph, public sentiment wouldn’t have plummeted so drastically.
Moreover, since Ayyub’s leader was a Sultan, he had little concern over the fate of the Caliph title.
“Your Majesty, what should we tell Philip II?”
“Is there anything to ponder? With the Prophet’s presence, we should naturally agree. This doesn’t harm us in any way.”
The idea of abolishing the Caliph title was actually beneficial, as it would eliminate potential claimants eyeing the position.
By establishing a state with his brother Al-Adil as the head, the Almohads would be consigned to history.
“Then I’ll instruct preparations to welcome the distinguished guests.”
“Please do.”
Yet, the timing of this title controversy was curious.
Perhaps it was a natural progression following the fall of the Almohads, but Saladin couldn’t ignore that it was Philip II who proposed it.
While he was aware of the ongoing disputes over Andalusia with the Iberian Peninsula states, he had a hunch about Philip’s true intentions.
The fact that Philip II was bringing the Pope and the Prophet along only solidified his suspicions.
But what could he do about it?
He couldn’t suddenly shift the discussion from religious matters to negotiating over Andalusia.
If France hadn’t acted, he might have tried to gain something, but Philip II left no openings.
Not that Saladin was particularly disappointed.
The Almohads were too large for Ayyub to swallow whole.
Unable to fully integrate even the Maghreb, he was already planning to establish a puppet state with his brother as king, so Andalusia was out of the question.
He had no intention of following the path of rulers who overextended themselves in conquest.
His focus was on stabilizing the succession and expanding only to the limits of effective governance, then consolidating internally.
Aware that his time was nearing its end, Saladin had no desire for reckless expansion.
Thus, it might be wise to feign ignorance and play along with Philip II’s efforts.
After all, showing cooperation might prompt reciprocal gestures from the other side.
“Have you heard from Al-Adil?”
“Yes, he contacted us about what to do with Al-Nasir and how to treat the nobles who captured him. Al-Adil is returning after taking Marrakech.”
“Indeed, I didn’t expect Al-Nasir to be captured by his own brother.”
Having entrusted his brother with the army to conquer the Maghreb, Saladin couldn’t help but find the news of Al-Nasir’s capture by his brother somewhat amusing.
From what he gathered, Al-Nasir’s brother had done everything he could before finally reaching a breaking point.
However, with the decision to abolish the Caliphate, the treatment of the former Caliph remained uncertain.
Had he surrendered earlier, it might have been different, but he resisted until the end and was betrayed.
While Al-Nasir’s brother could be welcomed as a noble and live comfortably, Al-Nasir’s case was more complicated.
Ayyub’s intervention in the Almohads was justified by the Caliph’s massacre of innocent Orthodox Christians, necessitating military action.
Moreover, Al-Nasir’s execution of those who criticized the Caliphate was evidence of his refusal to acknowledge the Prophet.
Saladin’s original plan was to capture Al-Nasir and exile him to a distant place where he could live out his days.
It was an unspoken rule that kings did not execute other kings.
But Al-Nasir’s case was different.
The question was whether Al-Nasir should be treated as a legitimate king.
The local sentiment in the Almohads was overwhelmingly in favor of executing Al-Nasir, pleading for his handover.
Al-Adil’s hasty return might be due to the inability to guarantee Al-Nasir’s safety.
However, executing a former Caliph was not Saladin’s way.
He intended to bring Al-Nasir to Ayyub and carefully decide his fate, but the Prophet’s visit complicated matters.
For Saladin, this issue was more pressing than the Andalusian question.
Perhaps even Philip II hadn’t anticipated this, but inadvertently, he had handed Saladin a rather tricky dilemma.
“If the Apostle arrives and it’s decided to abolish the title of Caliph, won’t that sway public opinion back home?”
“Now that you mention it, yes. And if we look at the timeline, it’s awkwardly overlapping. It seems Al-Adil’s escort of the Caliph and the Apostle’s arrival might coincide…”
“Is that so? That’s troublesome…”
“Indeed, it is.”
An-Nasir’s infamy was already well-known in Cairo.
To be precise, it had been made known deliberately.
This was to strengthen the justification for raising an army and to claim the achievement of rescuing the Maghreb believers suffering under An-Nasir’s tyranny.
But what if, at this moment, An-Nasir enters Cairo and it’s declared that the title of Caliph, which undermines the Apostle’s authority, will be abolished?
And what if the fact that An-Nasir, who defied the Apostle and insisted on being the Caliph, was dragged to Cairo becomes widely known?
“Do I really have to execute An-Nasir with my own hands?”
“Otherwise, it seems likely that the Amirs and Imams will rise up like a swarm of bees.”
“Good grief. I never intended for it to come to this.”
Saladin, now in the position of having to pronounce a death sentence on the once-great title of Caliph, couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh.
The final chapter of a name that once commanded an era was turning out to be so pitiful and insignificant.