There was a second reason for Pope Urban II to announce a new military adventure. We’ve seen the first reason: he was in a high-stakes battle against the kings of France and Germany to retain Europe’s allegiance, as they supported an alternative Pope. If the Church had to accept the alternative Pope, it meant the Church was not a higher authority.
But the second reason was that Europe’s homelands had too many trained fighting men. Popes had tried to introduce the idea of “the peace of God,” a vow to maintain domestic peace in a region. Economically, though, it went against the grain. Inheritance of a landed estate by only the eldest son left many younger sons without independence. When too many of them hung around home, they often rebelled against the family head to take the estate. When too many of them built up in a force around some Count or Baron, they had a great incentive to attack a neighboring lord and redistribute those estates to themselves. When they were attached to no household or lord at all, they tended to stake out a bridge and force people to pay tolls. (The origin of those medieval stories in which a knight won’t let people pass.)
At Clermont, Pope Urban II made a long speech that first recounted all of the Cluniac reforms to separate Church and State. Then he addressed the peacekeeping problem Europe had. Travelers weren’t safe, alliances were constantly threatened, he scolded. What a waste of energy! Instead, he pointed them to a new foreign adventure.
The Pope had no funds to outfit an army to help Emperor Alexios I Komnenos. He had, instead, the power to grant forgiveness of sin and to mesmerize his audience with a vision. The barons and kings of Europe, he said, should stop using their money to buy and sell church influence. Use it to equip knights!
The Pope’s speech was written down in four separate accounts at various times. It was the most famous speech in Europe for centuries. The accounts differ a little, but they all agree that he vividly described the plight of pilgrims who were constantly held hostage for fees, buying themselves out of possible slavery. He described how the Turks despised Christianity and had plundered the churches. He quoted the Bible extensively, fitting his audience into the role of “God’s people” while the Turks were “Gentiles.” His speech wasn’t anti-Jew per se, but he certainly failed to take the Jewish point of view into account. It’s perhaps one time when the phrase “cultural appropriation” has a point.
The Pope had already appointed a Papal Legate (lawyer/agent) to command the army. He gave the knights one year to set their affairs in order and assemble in August 1096. He offered them unconditional forgiveness for going, but severe condemnation if they turned back. He declared spiritual condemnation for anyone who messed with the property or families of a pilgrim knight.
In one swoop, Pope Urban II established his authority, took a step toward Church reunification, dazzled medieval minds with visions of angels and miracles, drained Europe of surplus men and money, and tempted French and German knights to stop supporting their kings (who were *not* invited). It worked; the audience took up a cry of “Deus vult!” and began making pilgrim vows on the spot.
His speech began with strong statements of Cluniac reform: against the influence of money in the church, against state control, against worldly bishops appointed by kings. Then he moved to what we’d call the “money quote,” pulled out in large type to catch the eye:
“Although, O sons of God, you have promised more firmly than ever to keep the peace among yourselves and to preserve the rights of the church, there remains still an important work for you to do. Freshly quickened by the divine correction, you must apply the strength of your righteousness to another matter which concerns you as well as God.
“For your brethren who live in the east are in urgent need of your help, and you must hasten to give them the aid which has often been promised them. For, as the most of you have heard, the Turks and Arabs have attacked them and have conquered the territory of Romania [the Greek empire] as far west as the shore of the Mediterranean and the Hellespont, which is called the Arm of St. George. They have occupied more and more of the lands of those Christians, and have overcome them in seven battles. They have killed and captured many, and have destroyed the churches and devastated the empire. If you permit them to continue thus for awhile with impurity, the faithful of God will be much more widely attacked by them.
“On this account I, or rather the Lord, beseech you as Christ’s heralds to publish this everywhere and to persuade all people of whatever rank, foot-soldiers and knights, poor and rich, to carry aid promptly to those Christians and to destroy that vile race from the lands of our friends. I say this to those who are present, it meant also for those who are absent. Moreover, Christ commands it.”
He promised instant forgiveness of sin to anyone who died in the attempt to fulfill his request. Pope Urban II may not have known just what a tidal wave he was triggering, but he had a Bishop already appointed as spiritual military commander. He set a starting date for August, 1096.