The Washington Crossroads [antikvár]

Sir Walter Scott's novel The Talisman ends with that marvellous account of the encounter between the Egyptian Sultan Salah-al-Din and King Richard the Lion Hearted of England in the middle of the desert in the Holy Land. Richard takes his sword, "a broad straight blade which extended well-nigh from the shoulder to the heel stretches it up above his giant frame and brings it crashing down on a steel bar an inch and a half thick. The bar breaks clean in two, the sword is unscathed. Then Salah-al-Din bares his lean, sinewy arm, stretches out his scimitar, 'a curved and narrow blade of a dull blue colour,' drops a veil over it and cuts the veil in two with one flick of his wrist." That is how the great novelist describes the beginning of an encounter called history's first summit meeting by US historian and writer Robert Wernick. Today's author would probably paint a different picture. He would probably have the sword, not the bar, break and have the scimitar break as well, symbolising the end of war and the beginning of eternal peace. But thought in days of yore was enchanted by brilliant demonstrations of strength—even if the intentions were of the most peaceful sort. In any case, as Robert Wernick stresses, even this version of the scene was no more than the writer's fantasy. In reality Richard and Salah-al-Din never met face to face. Richard repeatedly invited him to a meeting, but Salah-al-Din invariably turned down the invitation as he maintained that "kings should meet together only after the conclusion of an accord, for it is unthinkable for them to wage war once they know one another and have broken bread together." This is how things were arranged. Royal camps were set up several miles apart and all communication was through couriers. Difficult negotiations took months. Hostilities continued, but at the same time both sides were unstinting in shows of courtesy. To the dismay of the Crusaders Richard even made Salah-al-Din a knight. And the entire Christian world was horrified when he promised to give his sister Joan, the widow of the King of Sicily, in marriage to the brother of the Egyptian Sultan Saffadin, who was the chief mediator in the talks. Apparently, the noble Richard was much less concerned about how his sister would fit into a Muslim harem than the idea of gaining a foothold in Jerusalem. The newlyweds were to become the rulers—or co-rulers—of the Holy City. Like many other unorthodox ideas, the project never got off the ground, but on September 2, 1192, a treaty between Richard and Salah-al-Din was solem-