Islam - This Day in History - The Religion of Peace Skins Christian Alive for Not Converting

The Battle of Lepanto: When Turks Skinned Christians Alive

for Refusing Islam

10/07/2020 

by Raymond Ibrahim 

Drawing of the torture and subsequent flaying of Marco Bragadin, for rejecting the invitation to Islam.

 

Today in history, on October 7, 1571, one of the most cataclysmic clashes between Islam and the West — one where the latter for once crushed and humiliated the former — took place.

In 1570, Muslim Turks — in the guise of the Ottoman Empire — invaded the island of Cyprus, prompting  Pope Pius V to call for and form a “Holy League” of maritime Catholic nation-states, spearheaded by the Spanish Empire, in 1571.  Before they could reach and relieve Cyprus, its last stronghold at Famagusta was taken through treachery.

After promising the defenders safe passage if they surrendered, Ottoman commander Ali Pasha — known as Müezzinzade (“son of a muezzin”) due to his pious background — had reneged and launched a wholesale slaughter.  He ordered the nose and ears of Marco Antonio Bragadin, the fort commander, hacked off.  Ali then invited the mutilated infidel to Islam and life: “I am a Christian and thus I want to live and die,” Bragadin responded.  “My body is yours.  Torture it as you will.”

Wow! Is your faith strong enough to do that?

So he was tied to a chair, repeatedly hoisted up the mast of a galley, and dropped into the sea, to taunts: “Look if you can see your fleet, great Christian, if you can see succor coming to Famagusta!”  The mutilated and half-drowned man was then carried near to St. Nicholas Church — by now a mosque — and tied to a column, where he was slowly flayed alive.  The skin was afterward stuffed with straw, sown back into a macabre effigy of the dead commander, and paraded in mockery before the jeering Muslims.

News of this and other ongoing atrocities and desecrations of churches in Cyprus and Corfu enraged the Holy League as it sailed east.  A bloodbath followed when the two opposing fleets — carrying a combined total of 600 ships and 140,000 men, more of both on the Ottoman side — finally met and clashed on October 7, 1571, off the western coast of Greece, near Lepanto.  

According to one contemporary:

The greater fury of the battle lasted for four hours and was so bloody and horrendous that the sea and the fire seemed as one, many Turkish galleys burning down to the water, and the surface of the sea, red with blood, was covered with Moorish coats, turbans, quivers, arrows, bows, shields, oars, boxes, cases, and other spoils of war, and above all many human bodies, Christians as well as Turkish, some dead, some wounded, some torn apart, and some not yet resigned to their fate struggling in their death agony, their strength ebbing away with the blood flowing from their wounds in such quantity that the sea was entirely coloured by it, but despite all this misery our men were not moved to pity for the enemy. … Although they begged for mercy they received instead arquebus shots and pike thrusts.

The pivotal point came when the flagships of the opposing fleets, the Ottoman Sultana and the Christian Real, crashed into and were boarded by one another.  Chaos ensued as men everywhere grappled; even the grand admirals were seen in the fray, Ali Pasha firing arrows and Don Juan swinging broadsword and battle-axe, one in each hand.

In the end, “there was an infinite number of dead” on the Real, whereas “an enormous quantity of large turbans, which seemed to be as numerous as the enemy had been, [were seen in the Sultana] rolling on the deck with the heads inside them.”  The don emerged alive, but the pasha did not.

When the central Turkish fleets saw Ali’s head on a pike in the Sultana and a crucifix where the flag of Islam once fluttered, mass demoralization set in, and the waterborne mêlée was soon over. The Holy League lost twelve galleys and ten thousand men, but the Ottomans lost 230 galleys — 117 of which were captured by the Europeans — and thirty thousand men.

It was a victory of the first order, and Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestants rejoiced.

Ottoman commander Ali Pasha al-Müezzinzade engaging the Christian galleys

Practically speaking, however, little changed.  Cyprus was not even liberated by the Holy League.  “In wrestling Cyprus from you we have cut off an arm,” the Ottomans painfully reminded the Venetian ambassador a year later.  “In defeating our fleet [at Lepanto] you have shaved our beard.  An arm once cut off will not grow again, but a shorn beard grows back all the better for the razor.”

Even so, this victory proved that the relentless Turks, who in previous decades and centuries had conquered much of Eastern Europe, could be stopped.  Lepanto suggested that the Turks could be defeated in a head-on clash — at least by sea, which of late had been the Islamic powers’ latest hunting grounds.  As Miguel Cervantes, who was at the battle, has the colorful Don Quixote say: “That day … was so happy for Christendom, because all the world learned how mistaken it had been in believing that the Turks were invincible by sea.”

Modern historians affirm this position.  According to military historian Paul K. Davis, “More than a military victory, Lepanto was a moral one.  For decades, the Ottoman Turks had terrified Europe, and the victories of Suleiman the Magnificent caused Christian Europe serious concern. … Christians rejoiced at this setback for the Ottomans.  The mystique of Ottoman power was tarnished significantly by this battle, and Christian Europe was heartened.”

No matter how spectacular, however, defeat at sea could not shake what was first and foremost a land power — so that more than a century later, in 1683, some 200,000 armed Ottomans had penetrated as far as and besieged Vienna.

But that — to say nothing of Turkey’s many other jihads down to the present — is another story.

Historical quotes in this article were excerpted from the author’s Sword and Scimitar: Fourteen Centuries of War between Islam and the West — a book that CAIR and its Islamist allies did everything they could to prevent the U.S. Army War College from learning about.

Probably the Most Important Battle Most Christians Never Heard Of - Islamization

The Battle of Covadonga: Today in History a ‘Mustard Seed’ of Christian Liberation from Muslim Rule Is Planted in Spain

by Raymond Ibrahim

A monument to Pelayo commemorating the site of Covadonga

Nearly thirteen-hundred years ago today, on May 28, 722,* a little known but profoundly important battle was waged, setting the tone for the next eight hundred years of Christian/Muslim “coexistence” in Spain: the Battle of Covadonga.

Ten years earlier, Arabs and Africans—“Moors,” under the banner of Islam— had “godlessly invaded Spain to destroy it,” to quote from the Chronicle of 754. Once on European soil, they “ruined beautiful cities, burning them with fire; condemned lords and powerful men to the cross; and butchered youths and infants with the sword.”

After meeting and beating Spain’s Visigothic nobles at the Battle of Guadalete — “never was there in the West a more bloody battle than this,” wrote the Muslim chronicler al-Hakam, “for the Muslims did not withdraw their scimitars from them [Christians] for three days” — the invaders continued to penetrate northward into Spain, “not passing a place without reducing it, and getting possession of its wealth, for Allah Almighty had struck with terror the hearts of the infidels.”

Such terrorism was intentionally cultivated, in keeping with the Koran (3:151, 8:12, etc.). For instance, the invaders slaughtered, cooked, and pretended to eat Christian captives, while releasing others who, horrified, fled and “informed the people of Andalus [Spain] that the Muslims feed on human flesh,” thereby “contributing in no small degree to increase the panic of the infidels,” wrote al-Maqqari, another Muslim chronicler.

Contrary to the claim that, seeing Muslim rule was no worse and possibly preferable to Visigothic rule, Spain capitulated easily, even Muslim chroniclers note how “the Christians defended themselves with the utmost vigor and resolution, and great was the havoc that they made in the ranks of the faithful.” In Córdoba, for example, a number of Spaniards holed themselves up in a church. Although “the besieged had no hopes of deliverance, they were so obstinate that when safety was offered to them on condition either of embracing Islam, or paying jizya, they refused to surrender, and the church being set on fire, they all perished in the flames,” wrote al-Maqqari.  The ruins of this church became a place of “great veneration” for later generations of Spaniards, because “of the courage and endurance displayed in the cause of their religion by the people who died in it.”

In the end, native Spaniards had two choices: acquiesce to Muslim rule or “flee to the mountains, where they risked hunger and various forms of death.”  Pelagius, better known as Pelayo (685–737), a relative of and “sword-bearer” to King Roderick, who survived Guadalete, followed both strategies. After the battle, he retreated north, where Muslim rule was still tenuous; there he eventually consented to become a vassal of Munnuza, a local Muslim chief. Through some “stratagem,” Munnuza “married” Pelayo’s sister — a matter that the sword-bearer “by no means consented to.” Having expressed displeasure at the seizure of his sister, and having ceased paying jizya (tribute), Muslims were sent “to apprehend him treacherously” and bring him back “bound in chains.” Unable to fight the oncoming throng “because they were so numerous,” Pelayo “climbed a mountain” and “joined himself to as many people as he found hastening to assemble.”

There, in the deepest recesses of the Asturian mountains — the only free spot left, in northwest Spain — the assembled Christian fugitives declared Pelayo their new king; and the Kingdom of Asturias was born.

“Hearing this, the king [the Muslim governor of Córdoba], moved by an insane fury, ordered a very large army from all over Spain to go forth” and bring the infidel rebels to heel. The invaders — 180,000 of them, if the chroniclers are to be believed — surrounded Pelayo’s mountain. They sent Oppa, a bishop and/or noble now turned dhimmi, to reason with him at the mouth of a deep cavern: “If when the entire army of the Goths was assembled, it was unable to sustain the attack of the Ishmaelites [at Guadalete], how much better will you be able to defend yourself on this mountaintop? To me it seems difficult. Rather, heed my warning and recall your soul from this decision, so that you may take advantage of many good things and enjoy the partnership of the Chaldeans [Arabs].”

“I will not associate with the Arabs in friendship nor will I submit to their authority,” Pelayo responded. Then the rebel made a prophecy that would be fulfilled over the course of nearly eight centuries: “Have you not read in the divine scriptures that the church of God is compared to a mustard seed and that it will be raised up again through divine mercy? [Mark 4:30-21]”

The dhimmi affirmed that it was so; the fugitive continued: “Christ is our hope that through this little mountain, which you see, the well-being of Spain and the army of the Gothic people will be restored. . . . Now, therefore, trusting in the mercy of Jesus Christ, I despise this multitude and am not afraid of it. As for the battle with which you threaten us, we have for ourselves an advocate in the presence of the Father, that is, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is capable of liberating us from these few.”  Discussions were over.

There, at Covadonga — meaning “Cavern of the Lady” — battle commenced on May 28, 722.  A shower of rocks rained down on the Muslims in the narrow passes, where their numbers counted for nothing and only caused confusion. Afterward, Pelayo and his band of rebels rushed forth from their caves and hiding places and made great slaughter among them; those who fled the carnage were tracked and mowed down by other, now emboldened, mountaineers. “A decisive blow was dealt at the Moorish power….  The advancing tide of conquest was stemmed. The Spaniards gathered heart and hope in their darkest hour; and the dream of Moslem invincibility was broken.”

Several subsequent Muslim campaigns—jihads—were launched to conquer the Asturian kingdom, and the “Christians of the North scarcely knew the meaning of repose, security, or any of the amenities of life.” Even so, the mustard seed would not perish. “A vital spark was still alive,” Edward Gibbon wrote; “some invincible fugitives preferred a life of poverty and freedom in the Asturian valleys; the hardy mountaineers repulsed the slaves of the caliph.” Moreover, “all who were dissatisfied with Moorish dominion, all who clung to the hope of a Christian revival, all who detested Mahomet,” were drawn to the life of poverty and freedom.”

By the mid eighth century, the “vital spark” had spread to engulf the entire northwest of the Peninsula; over the following centuries, various kingdoms, whose core identity revolved around Christian defiance to Islam—later manifested as the Reconquista—had evolved from this mustard seed.  “Covadonga became the symbol of Christian resistance to Islam and a source of inspiration to those who, in words attributed to Pelayo, would achieve the salus Spanie, the salvation of Spain.”

After centuries of brutal warfare, by 1492, the last Muslim-held territory in Spain, Granada, was liberated.  And it all came to pass thanks to Pelayo’s Asturian mustard seed, planted nearly eight hundred years earlier at the battle of Covadonga.

Despite this encounter’s importance for Spain—it was regularly celebrated, including in 1918 (at the height of the Spanish Flu) with Spanish monarchs in attendance—it remains virtually unknown in the West, sacrificed on the altar of political correctness and Islamic “golden age” myths.

The above account was excerpted from the author’s book, Sword and Scimitar: Fourteen Centuries of War between Islam and the West.  Raymond Ibrahim is a Shillman Fellow at the David Horowitz Freedom Center; a Judith Rosen Friedman Fellow at the Middle East Forum; and a Distinguished Senior Fellow at the Gatestone Institute.

*Although scholarly consensus currently supports the date of May 28, 722, earlier historians placed the date of the battle in 718.

Covadonga, Spain

How the Bible Won a WWI Battle

Annie Holmquist

Several weeks ago, I made the claim that a culturally literate person knows the Bible. Because the Bible was a part of common culture for so many centuries, those who fail to familiarize themselves with its contents cut themselves off from deeper historical and cultural understanding. 

I was reminded today just how valuable that knowledge can be as I was reflecting on Veterans Day and World War I.

As one might recall, World War I found a number of British forces fighting in Palestine, the land we now know as Israel. According to Major Vivian Gilbert, the troops bought Bibles when they first arrived in Palestine to use as a type of guidebook to find their way around.

Several months into the campaign, the forces under General Allenby prepared to attack an area known as Mickmash. Thinking the name seemed familiar, one of the majors under Allenby pulled out his Bible and began searching for the name Mickmash. He soon discovered that it was the sight of a very famous surprise attack undertaken by Jonathan, the son of Saul, Israel’s first king. The historical account picks up the story:  

“And the major read on how Jonathan went through the pass, or passage, of Mickmash, between Bozez and Seneh, and climbed the hill dragging his armour-bearer with him until they came to a place high up, about ‘a half an acre of land, which a yoke of oxen might plow’; and the Philistines who were sleeping awoke, thought they were surrounded by the armies of Saul, and fled in disorder, and ‘the multitude melted away.’ Saul then attacked with his whole army. It was a great victory for him; his first against the Philistines, and ‘so the Lord saved Israel that day, and the battle passed over unto Beth Aven.’

The brigade major thought to himself: ‘This pass, these two rocky headlands and flat piece of ground are probably still here; very little has changed in Palestine throughout the centuries,’ and he woke the brigadier. Together they read the story over again. Then the general sent out scouts, who came back and reported finding the pass, thinly held by Turks, with rocky crags on either side, obviously Bozez and Seneh; whilst in the distance, high up in Mickmash the moonlight was shining on a flat piece of ground just about big enough for a team to plough.

The general decided then and there to change the plan of attack, and instead of the whole brigade, one infantry company alone advanced at dead of night along the pass of Mickmash. A few Turks met were silently dealt with. We passed between Bozez and Seneh, climbed the hillside, and just before dawn, found ourselves on the flat piece of ground. The Turks who were sleeping awoke, thought they were surrounded by the armies of Allenby and fled in disorder.

We killed or captured every Turk that night in Mickmash; so that, after thousands of years, the tactics of Saul and Jonathan were repeated with success by a British force.”

If General Allenby and his forces had not familiarized themselves with the Bible, they would have completely missed the hidden knowledge which made their victory possible. One has to wonder: will current trends to avoid teaching the Bible to students cause them to miss out on important cultural connections while preventing them from using the past to unlock their understanding of the present?

Annie is a research associate with Intellectual Takeout. In her role, she assists with website content production and social media messaging.  

Annie received a B.A. in Biblical Studies from the University of Northwestern-St. Paul. She also brings 20+ years of experience as a music educator and a volunteer teacher – particularly with inner city children – to the table in her research and writing. 

In her spare time Annie enjoys the outdoors, gardening, reading, and events with family and friends.