Features

How a Medieval Sect Built a Mountain Stronghold in Syria

Driven from their earlier strongholds, the Assassins turned to the mountains of Syria in search of safety and autonomy. What they built there—through cunning, negotiation, and fortification—became one of the most remarkable mountain strongholds of the medieval world.

By Steve Tibble

In the first two decades of the twelfth century, the Assassins had faced appalling disasters. They had tried to take over some of the most desirable real estate in Syria, and had been killed for their ambition. In Aleppo and Damascus they had been subjected to ruthless massacres that had destroyed their urban bases and devastated their nearby rural communities.

In Shaizar, they had tried to take over a heavily fortified town on a vibrant river crossing, only to get the same result – their men had been wiped out and their co-religionists in the town and neighbouring villages butchered during the inevitable reprisals.

They needed to try something new. Something less ambitious perhaps, but a way to create a ‘principality’ of their own, where they could be free from persecution by their many enemies.

From Persecution to Strategy: Finding a New Home in Syria

Their plan this time was less far reaching, and far less dramatic – but all the more effective as a result. They decided to take over some of the least desirable castles in the region, in some of the most inhospitable places. And they also changed their methodology. They began to use money and charm, as well as violence and manipulation, to make it all happen.

The combination of more limited objectives and more palatable methods worked. Between 1130 and 1141 the Assassins succeeded in doing what they had tried, and failed, to do over the previous three decades. They built up a formidable network of highly defensible castles in the middle of a crowded region. The dream of a Nizari state in Syria became a reality.

The area around the Jabal Ansariyya mountains today – map by the Central Intelligence Agency / Wikimedia Commons

They took over large parts of what we would call today the Jabal Ansariyya, but which was known in the twelfth century as the Jabal Bahra (or Bahra Mountains). Importantly for the Assassins’ new plans, the Jabal Bahra, situated between the Sunni principality of Hama and the Mediterranean coast, already had a substantial Shi’ite population. This was not a high mountain range by the standards of their previous efforts. It was, for instance, less than half the height of their mountain bases in Persia. And, inevitably, there were many enemies close by. There was no vacuum in the Mediterranean coastal area of Syria. But it was the best, perhaps only, strategic option available to them, and they grasped it with both hands.

The centre of the network of fortifications that the Assassins eventually established was the major castles of Masyaf, Kahf and Qadmus, surrounded by other castles such as Khariba, Rusafa, Khawabi, Ullayqa and Maniqa. Smaller forts were also built to help control approach roads around this impressive network.

None of this happened by accident. There were two broad phases to this extraordinary spurt of Nizari state-building – the first in the early to mid-1130s and the second in the early 1140s. Both were propelled and enabled by military weakness in the nearby crusader state of the county of Tripoli.

The early 1130s were tough times for the county of Tripoli. Calling it a ‘county’ perhaps makes it sound more grand than it really was. The eastern frontiers of the small crusader state had always been vulnerable to attack by their Muslim neighbours. Much of its territory was in a relatively thin strip of land along the coast of Palestine and Syria, lodged uneasily between the kingdom of Jerusalem to the south and the principality of Antioch to the north. This made any idea of a ‘defence in depth’ unfeasible – as a result, the county of Tripoli was dangerously fragile, even by the low standards of the time.

Inland, much of the population were independently minded mountain-folk. Regardless of their religious affiliation (there was a large Muslim presence, but many of them were Christian), they had their own interests to pursue. They could not always be relied upon in a crisis. To make matters worse, the county was almost surrounded by Muslim states. Shaizar was in the north-east, Hama and Homs to the east, and Baalbek to the south-east. Threats were everywhere.

Even before the Muslim states began to coalesce under the influence of the new generation of Turkic strongmen and their fierce nomadic mercenaries, the local Frankish military were over-stretched. This was (barely) sustainable when the Muslim states were disunited and under-resourced, as the counts of Tripoli could play one off against the other. When they were united and well supplied with Turkic cavalry, however, the county had to rely on the other Franks in the region for help.

Seal of Pons, Count of Tripoli – Wikimedia Commons

The crusaders’ Sunni Muslim enemies exploited this weakness ruthlessly. Strong leaders such as Zengi of Mosul (r.1127-1146) were continually probing, raiding and invading the eastern borders. Contemporary chroniclers noted with disdain, for instance, that Count Pons (1112-1137) was the first leader of Tripoli who did not feel strong enough to take the fight to the enemy by launching attacks on Muslim-held Homs.

And, as if that was not bad enough, Pons foolishly chose this moment to pick a fight with his neighbour, King Fulk of Jerusalem, which deteriorated into civil war. The conflict that followed only ended when Fulk was forced to march north to meet Pons in battle at Rugia, and the uprising was put down with much unnecessary bloodshed. The frontiers of Tripoli were in perennial danger of collapse, even without the self-inflicted disaster of such foolishness.

For much of the 1130s until his death in 1143, King Fulk of Jerusalem was on campaign helping to shore up the borders of his Frankish allies in Tripoli or even further north in Antioch. He knew, regardless of how ungrateful his neighbours might be, that the critical threats to the crusader states would be played out in the north rather than the south.

It was in this complex and shifting environment along the Jabal Bahra that the Assassins saw, and took, their opportunity – they took what turned out to be the first steps towards the creation of their state in Syria.

Castles, Coin, and Cunning: Building the Nizari Network

The ruins of Kahf – photo by Nawar Shash / Wikimedia Commons

The Assassins bought the castle of Qadmus in 1132 from its Sunni Muslim ruler, the lord of Kahf, while Count Pons of Tripoli was preoccupied with his foolish and self-indulgent war with King Fulk. The castle was set in the west of the mountain range, at a commanding height and with excellent views of the surrounding countryside. It lay at the heart of what was to become the Assassins’ giant fortification-complex in the Jabal Bahra.

Although it was only a medium-sized castle, the strategic position of Qadmus made it a natural command centre and one of their main bases in the region. The Nizaris quickly made improvements to the castle, putting it in much better shape to withstand a long siege, and adding extensive new storage chambers, remnants of which still survive today. The imposing transformation of Qadmus was reflected in the views of those who saw it. The Jewish traveller Benjamin of Tudela, for instance, writing of his journeys in c.1165, thought it impressive enough to be described as the Assassins’ ‘principal seat’.

Soon after, in October 1133, an army of nomad mercenaries commanded by Zengi the atabeg of Mosul (1127-1146), invaded the county of Tripoli – shockingly, they even penetrated as far as the suburbs around the city of Tripoli and the Mediterranean coastline. These profound military problems were almost catastrophic for the county of Tripoli but they gave the Assassins the opportunity to fan out still further. The acquisition of Qadmus may not in itself have been enough to secure a safe home for the Assassins, but it was a good start. Having strengthened Qadmus, the Assassins looked for other properties with which to expand their power base.

Their next major acquisition was the even grander castle of Kahf, sold to them by the son of the same lord of Kahf who had given them Qadmus – the family may have been ostensibly Sunni, but it clearly had Nizari leanings. Locked in a spectacularly bitter succession dispute, the castle’s owner preferred that it went to Nizari ‘heretics’ rather than end up in the hands of his cousin. Again, not coincidentally, it came into their hands through negotiations and an attractive financial offer rather than the far blunter and more risky instrument of violence.

This extremely isolated (and still hard to find) castle had been built around 1120. It became a major centre for the Assassins and was developed as a palace for their leadership. We know, for instance, that it was a base for diplomatic activity with the Franks in 1197 and possibly, in the thirteenth century, with King Louis IX of France and his crusaders.

The scale of the fortifications is immense, and may have extended to two or three kilometres in length. It was built on a rocky spur whose sheer cliffs provided a strong natural defence. Any assault on Kahf would be extremely difficult because of the fortifications. And even an extended siege was problematic – the castle had its own natural springs, and artificial canals to bring water into the garrison.

In 1136-1137, soon after the acquisition of Kahf, local Nizaris also managed to expel the Frankish garrison at Khariba and eventually took control of it for themselves, despite fierce opposition from the Sunni lord of nearby Hama. The sect’s castle network had at last achieved critical mass.

Masyaf and the Birth of a Mountain State

The ruins of Masyaf Castle – photo by LorisRomito / Wikimedia Commons

With security on the borders of Tripoli continuing to deteriorate, the Assassins continued to expand. They captured their most important fortification, the huge castle at Masyaf, just to the east of Qadmus, in 1140. With this impressive castle as the de facto capital of their small, mountain-refuge state, the Assassins could regroup, consolidate and perfect the extraordinary practices for which they are now so famous.

The early history of Masyaf is largely unknown. The crusaders seem to have been in control of it in 1103. But the Assassins were by now so well established in the region that they did not always need to use charm to get what they wanted. Ibn al-Qalanisi, admittedly not a fan, later wrote disapprovingly that they ‘seized’ the castle in 1140 ‘by means of a stratagem.’

The castle of Masyaf was imposing. Set about 20 metres above the plain, it was, like the famous crusader fortress of Kerak, built on a rocky promontory some 150 metres long. The buildings within had their own majesty – they were at least six levels high, standing up to 50 metres tall. The main entrance to the castle was suitably intimidating too. It could be approached only by walking along a vulnerable path and climbing a steep external staircase which was exposed to archery fire from the defenders. Anyone who survived that journey found themselves confronted by the horrific prospect of attacking a heavily fortified barbican.

Masyaf, like the better Templar castles of the period, was concentric in nature. It used multiple layers of defence to seal off any breakthrough of the outer walls by attacking forces. The inner citadel formed a castle within a castle, and allowed fire to be rained down on anyone who penetrated the initial layers of defence.

It is indicative of the smaller numbers of the Nizari garrisons that their castles seem to have had no posterns (concealed exits) within them. Byzantine and crusader castles which were built on this scale tended to have garrisons which were large enough, and aggressive enough, to use posterns as places from which to launch sorties against enemy besiegers. In Nizari fortifications, however, their much smaller garrisons tended to settle in for a purely defensive siege. The Assassins never had numbers on their side.

But fortifications could make up for lack of numbers. Masyaf was a huge castle in its own right, but it was at the centre of a growing number of such fortifications. Like the crusaders, the Assassins used their castles as an expensive but essential ‘force-multiplier’ – a way of empowering and conserving their more limited military forces.

The Assassins eventually created a fortified area that was almost impregnable to all but the most determined besieger. The number of castles and forts in the region that they had bought, captured or built was huge, particularly given the relatively small area involved – estimates range from 24 up to around 70 fortifications. They were so well positioned, and so closely packed together, that any attacker would inevitably face enormous difficulties.

This was the refuge they needed and the formidable centre of a new Nizari state.

 

Steve Tibble, an honorary research associate at Royal Holloway, University of London, has a new book out – Assassins and Templars: A Battle in Myth and Blood – from Yale University Press. It tells the true history behind the hugely popular video game Assassin’s Creed and the medieval world’s two most extraordinary organisations, tracing their origins, strategies, violent clashes, and enduring legacy in myth and memory.

You can get your copy of Assassins and Templars: A Battle in Myth and Blood through

To learn more about Steve, please visit his website or follow him on Instagram

Top Image: Masyaf Castle – photo by Ahmad Alhaj Ebraheem – Wikimedia Commons