Even if the sporadic fires of the Crusades had mostly subsided by the end of the thirteenth century, the glowing embers occasionally erupted when they were fanned into life by mutual hostility. Arab and European versions of the Crusades differed since opinions on both sides were rooted in ignorance and suspicion. ‘Abd al-Rahman, known as Ibn Khaldun (1332–1406), the great Arab philosopher and historian, regarded the Franks as barbarians who lived without benefit of the sunlight of the Islamic world, the people dull of understanding and their tongues heavy. Born in Tunisia, Ibn Khaldun went to Cairo in 1382 and became chief judge. Though he had heard rumours that students were numerous in the country of Rome and the northern Mediterranean and that the arts and sciences flourished, he dismissed them by remarking merely that God knew best what went on in those parts. Muslims conceded that the Franks in general were brave warriors, but thought them crude and ignorant. The battles of Hattin near Tiberius, where Saladin defeated Reynald of Chatillon in 1186, and at ‘Ayn Jalut, when the sultan al-Muzaffar Qutuz and his general, the dark-skinned al-Zähir Baybars, outmanoeuvred the Mongols, are still very much alive in Arab memories today. On their side, medieval Christian travellers regarded with contempt such alien Muslim practices as circumcision, polygamy and the prohibitions against wine and pork.

The Mamluks were a military elite in a foreign land, nobodies from the Eurasian steppes. Nevertheless they gained respect because of their military prowess, which enabled them to defeat the Mongols and Christian invaders. Therefore when Europeans arrived in Egypt in the fourteenth century, they found the Mamluk slave sultans well estab lished as rulers of Syria and Egypt in the Cairo citadel, a fortress conceived under Saladin, whose wise administration had left traces for posterity in the construction of citadels, highways and canals. Even the Franks had acknowledged his chivalry, piety and sense of justice, while Dante accorded him an honourable place in limbo. Saladin died on 4 March 1193 aged 56. At the end of his life, due to his failing strength, the sultan constantly wore a coat lined with the furs of Bortàs and a number of tunics and sat on a very soft cushion and a pile of carpets.