During the turn of the 20th century, the Russian Empire witnessed rapid industrialization and urbanization that in turn raised political consciousness among workers and peasants in the empire. These political tensions combined with the desire for greater autonomy among non-Russian communities in the empire and led to the outbreak of the 1905 Revolution. With the bulk of its armed forces engaged in the Russo-Japanese War, the tsarist government appeared to be on the verge of collapse and was compelled to offer political concessions to end the revolution.

The Romanovs at the Beginning of the 20th Century

The Romanov dynasty had ruled Russia since 1613. The Romanovs emulated other European monarchies by centralizing power and pursuing territorial expansion to the Pacific coast. At the same time, Russia struggled to modernize at the same rate as its European rivals. Russia’s powerful landed aristocracy ensured that serfdom was not abolished until the 1860s, while national minorities in the western parts of the empire frequently sought independence from Russian rule. With radical political ideas spreading across Europe in the 19th century, a violent upheaval seemed all but inevitable.

Following the assassination of the reformist Tsar Alexander II in 1881, his successors Tsar Alexander III and Nicholas II reverted to reactionary policies to preserve the regime. The secret police known as the Okhrana targeted enemies of the state and sent them into internal exile in Siberia. The landlords retained much of their power over the peasantry, who were taxed heavily and often lacked the means of independent subsistence. Russia also increased its military spending to ensure that it could fight the Ottomans or any other European power at any time.

A decade before the 1905 Revolution, Nicholas II succeeded his father Alexander III and retained his father’s policies. Peasants still struggled to pay off redemption dues for their land and aristocratic landlords continued to dominate Russian society. Alexander III and Nicholas II’s efforts to develop Russian industry resulted in poor conditions for factory workers in cities, encouraging the creation of labor unions to demand better working conditions.

The Rise of Revolutionary Socialism and Different National Movements

The Romanovs faced a diverse set of revolutionary movements that grew more powerful at the turn of the century. Inspired by the 1848 uprisings across Europe, revolutionary movements throughout the empire began taking on the authorities in the late 1800s. The People’s Will, an insurgency based in major cities, assassinated Tsar Alexander II. The years before 1905 witnessed the formation of various political organizations that either sought to place constitutional limits on the tsar’s power or to overthrow the monarchy and establish a socialist state.

The most powerful revolutionary movements at the time included the Socialist Revolutionaries, who were popular in the countryside and favored a form of agrarian socialism, and the Russian Social Democratic Labour Party, a Marxist organization which saw the working class as the vanguard of socialist revolution. However, after 1903, the RSDLP split between the moderate Menshevik faction, led by Julius Martov, and hardline Bolsheviks, led by Vladimir Lenin. Efforts to re-establish unity between the two factions were largely unsuccessful.

Additionally, nationalist movements developed throughout the empire. Ukraine, Poland, the Baltics, and other colonies of Russia witnessed a rise in nationalism that coincided with the revolutionary movement in Russia. Polish nationalists wanted to avenge the defeat of the 1863 uprising. Jewish communities in the Pale of Settlement came to embrace revolutionary ideas in response to widespread antisemitism and political violence under the Romanovs. While many left-wing revolutionaries such as Julius Martov and Leon Trotsky were Jewish, this created the trope that the Bolsheviks were a Jewish movement.

Bloody Sunday

When many Russian peasants in the countryside moved to cities they hoped to gain more work opportunities. However, many struggled to find jobs, became homeless, or were condemned to work in miserable conditions. Strikes were commonplace and were often brutally suppressed by Russian state authorities. This, however, did not lead to a reduction in strikes or work stoppages.

Father Georgy Gapon, a Ukrainian Orthodox priest living in St. Petersburg, was a major organizer of the strikes. He led an organization called the Assembly of the Russian Factory and Mill Workers of the City of St. Petersburg. Ironically, Gapon received some backing from parts of the Russian government who hoped to control the union movement from the inside. On Sunday January 22, 1905, he led a procession of workers in St. Petersburg to the Winter Palace with a petition addressed to the tsar. It demanded an end to the Russo-Japanese War, universal suffrage for all, and increased labor protections. Ironically, the demands were opposed by many of the revolutionary factions who hoped for more radical change.

When the marchers reached the Narva Gate, they found that soldiers of the city garrison and the Imperial Guards had been mobilized to stop the march. In a series of clashes, hundreds of marchers were killed by gunfire or trampled by horses. Gapon subsequently left the country. Opponents of the Tsar, even those opposed to the march, were angered and radical calls for violent action increased. Even Tsar Nicholas himself, who was away from St. Petersburg, was appalled by the death toll. The events of Bloody Sunday unleashed a torrent of revolutionary activity that lasted throughout the year.

Strikes and Mutinies

The killing of so many peaceful marchers kicked off a series of rebellions and demonstrations all across the Russian Empire. Polish socialists instigated a series of strikes in major Polish cities; nearly 94% of Polish workers participated in these actions over the course of the year. In Riga, Latvia, nearly 130 workers were shot after striking. Many people striking in the fringes of Russia demanded, in addition to labor rights, that there would be a halt to Russification policies that suppressed non-Russian culture.

The divide-and-rule policies in Russia led to major ethnic clashes throughout the Empire too. In the Caucasus, Armenians and Tatars killed each other in a series of massacres that presaged the Armenian Genocide in WWI. Jews came under attack from both opponents and supporters of the tsar, leading to the deaths of nearly 3,000 of them in pogroms. The bloodiest one in Odesa in October 1905 caused nearly 800 deaths. Polish leftists and rightists fought each other, even as they demanded independence from Russia. Amidst the chaos, revolutionary movements struggled to bring together the opponents of the Tsar. The St. Petersburg Soviet chaired by Leon Trotsky, the first of its kind, was ridden by infighting between the Mensheviks and Bolsheviks.

The military was affected too. Army units either fighting in Manchuria or on garrison duty staged mutinies as a result of battlefield losses and poor treatment by officers. The navy was ridden with mutinies, of which the battleship Potemkin in Odesa being the best known. The scale of the strikes and mutinies was immense; by October it was estimated that millions of Tsar Nicholas’ subjects were engaging in revolutionary activity.

End of the Revolution

The government fought back ferociously against the revolution. Loyal military units unaffected by mutinies were brought in to crush any resistance. Large portions of the empire were subject to emergency rule, in which the Okhrana and police could arrest anyone. The naval mutinies in Kronstadt, Odesa, Vladivostok, and Sevastopol were broken with the deaths of 2,000 sailors. The tsar also relied on a militia called the Union of Russian People, more commonly referred to as the Black Hundreds. This organization was responsible for many of the pogroms that took place during this period.

At the same time, Nicholas hoped to offer the strikers some reform to bring back order. He created the Shidlovsky Commission to investigate the causes of the strikes. However, this commission was dissolved before it could start work. Additionally, he published the Bulygin Rescript and October Manifesto, promising more rights and elections in an attempt to weaken the revolutionary movement. Amnesties for people arrested in the revolution were issued and Russia’s prison population declined.

The Tsar’s concessions divided the opposition. Some liberals were pleased, especially with the promise of creating the Duma, and called for a halt in the protests. The radicals, however, wanted to destroy the tsarist regime entirely. More violent uprisings took place before the year’s end. Lenin helped instigate the largest uprising in Moscow in December. After it was defeated, the revolution effectively came to an end, though disturbances in the countryside continued into 1906 and 1907. After the Treaty of Portsmouth that ended the Russo-Japanese War, the tsar had more manpower at his disposal to pacify the countryside. The 1905 Revolution claimed the lives of some 1,500 tsarist loyalists and 15,000 revolutionaries.

The Russian Constitution 1906 and the Aftermath of the Revolution

Once it became clear that the tsar would need to make concessions, he announced the creation of a bicameral parliament. An elected representative body known as the Duma served as the lower house, while the existing State Council took on the functions of the upper house, with some of its members elected and others appointed directly by the tsar. However, the Fundamental Law of 1906 reiterated the tsarist ideology that the empire was one and indivisible. Furthermore, the tsar retained the right to veto any legislation passed by the Duma.

The First Duma was convened in April 1906 and dominated by the Constitutional Democratic (Kadet) Party. Although they did not seek to overthrow the tsar, the Kadets demanded more radical reforms than the tsar was willing to offer, and he dissolved the First Duma in 73 days. Elections were held for a Second Duma in 1907, but this proved even more radical and was soon dissolved.

The failure of the Second Duma prompted Nicholas’ prime minister Pyotr Stolypin to propose changes to the electoral franchise that resulted in the more conservative Third Duma, which proved more effective at legislating. While Stolypin brutally crushed any remaining peasant disturbances, he also instituted reforms to improve the livelihoods of peasants and urban workers. His policies created a new class of peasant landowners called kulaks, whom he hoped would be a bastion of support for the tsarist regime in the countryside. He also sought to relieve pressure in European Russia by encouraging the economic development of Siberia. Stolypin’s reforms were not enough for the revolutionaries and in 1911 Stolypin was assassinated by Dmitrii Bogrov, a Ukrainian Jewish Anarchist who hated the Empire.

The continued repression by the tsar inspired terrorist attacks by Socialist Revolutionaries and Bolsheviks. Between 1906 to 1909, revolutionary factions killed nearly 8,000 people. Anti-Russian nationalist movements continued to develop in the Empire and sought external support. For instance, Józef Piłsudski created a Polish underground movement that received help from Germany and the Austrian Empire. In 1913, Tsar Nicholas II celebrated the 300th anniversary of Romanov rule in Russia. The widespread demonstrations of support for the tsarist regime on this occasion belied the revolutionary tensions under the surface. While the 1905 Revolution had failed to topple the tsar, Leon Trotsky later described it as the dress rehearsal for the end of Romanov rule in 1917.

When the Dutch fleet destroyed 13 English warships anchored on the Medway in Kent, they inflicted one of the worst defeats in English naval history. The victory demonstrated the prowess of the 17th century Dutch navy and ensured the Second Anglo-Dutch War ended on favorable terms for the Dutch.

The Second Anglo-Dutch War

The Second Anglo-Dutch War was a continuation of the 17th century Anglo-Dutch rivalry over trade routes and overseas possessions. It did not start with one battle. Instead, the English began raiding Dutch outposts in the Americas and Africa. When the Dutch retaliated, King Charles II formally declared war with the intention of weakening Dutch control over its maritime trade routes. The Dutch Grand Pensionary, Johan de Witt, began mobilizing his forces to stop English attacks on Dutch merchantmen and try to recapture the lost colonies.

In 1665 and 1666, the English and Dutch engaged in a series of ruthless naval engagements that saw both fleets suffer heavy losses. Both navies had considerable experience after years of battling the Spanish or French. They also relied on privateers to attack each others’ shipping. At one point, the English managed to push the Dutch fleet out of the Channel entirely and raided the Vlie estuary, destroying 140 Dutch merchantmen. This gave the English a temporary upper hand, but the Dutch were not out of the fight.

In 1665, London was hit with a massive plague that devastated the Crown’s finances.The following year witnessed the Great Fire of London. By early 1667, the English government could no longer afford to pay its sailors or maintain its fleet. Charles II made the fateful decision to lay up his heavy warships at Chatham, relying on small “flying fleets” and ongoing peace negotiations at Breda. This returned the advantage to the Dutch, who began planning to strike at what remained of the English fleet at anchor.

Michiel de Ruyter and George Monck

The Dutch hero of the war was Admiral Michiel de Ruyter. A sailor since he was eleven years old, he was a veteran of the First Anglo-Dutch War. For years, he protected Dutch merchantmen from the Spanish, pirates, and English privateers. In 1664, he took several ships on orders from the Dutch Republic and retook several outposts on the West African coast before returning to the Netherlands. Upon his return in 1665, De Ruyter accepted supreme command of the Dutch fleet and was named Lieutenant-Admiral of Holland after his predecessor was killed during the Battle of Lowestoft.

In June 1666, de Ruyter achieved a hard-fought, major victory over the English fleet in one of the longest naval battles in history. Although the English were not destroyed, it was a significant victory for the Dutch. It established his reputation as one of the best naval commanders in the 17th century. Around the Netherlands, he was known as “Bestevaêr,” or “Grandfather.” When the Dutch Admiralty began planning to destroy what remained of the English fleet at anchor, de Ruyter intended to lead the attack personally.

General-at-Sea George Monck commanded English naval forces in the Medway. A veteran soldier of the English Civil War, he was celebrated as the architect of the Restoration and a trusted leader during national crises. After commanding English ships at sea for many years, he was recalled from the fleet by the King to help manage the chaos following the Great Fire of London, a task he performed with efficiency.

Opposing Forces

By 1667, the two countries were in negotiations to end the war. However, discussions had deadlocked because Charles II feared that an unfavorable deal would weaken his position at home. Johan de Witt became irritated and he hoped that another major naval victory would strengthen his hand at the negotiating table. He ordered Admiral de Ruyter to take as much of the Dutch fleet to sea as possible, without telling other senior members of the Dutch Admiralty what the plan was. De Ruyter was to take his ships into the mouth of the Thames and destroy what remained of the English fleet at anchor.

To accomplish this task, he had at his disposal a formidable fleet of 62 large warships, 15 smaller vessels, and 12 fireships. 17,500 men manned these vessels. In addition to the ships’ crews, a large contingent of Dutch marines was on hand to assault fortifications and board enemy vessels. The Dutch were the first nation to create an independent marine corps for this purpose. Admiral de Ruyter sailed aboard the 80-gun De Zeven Provinciën and he was assisted by Admiral Willem Joseph van Ghent and the politician Cornelis de Witt, who supervised the fleet at the behest of his brother Johan.

The English were poorly prepared for this attack. General-at-sea Monck had seen most of his ships laid up because the government could not afford to maintain them. A few guard vessels were anchored near the main dockyards at Chatham, but they were ill-prepared for the onslaught. There were fortifications on the banks of the Medway and the Thames, these were also poorly manned and lacked gunpowder and munitions for an extended fight.

The Dutch Approach

England received warnings from its spy network in continental Europe that the Dutch fleet was preparing to sail towards the English coast. However, the English authorities disregarded these warnings and there was no attempt to re-equip the English fleet on the Medway. The Dutch maintained good operational security; most ship captains were only made aware of their target while at sea. De Ruyter was supported by several English defectors, who knew the river well.

Upon reaching the mouth of the Thames, De Ruyter left his heaviest ships as a covering force and blockade. A specialized “flying squadron” of smaller, more maneuverable ships under Willem Joseph van Ghent was designated for the actual inland raid. Ashore, the English were caught completely unaware. Charles believed that peace was imminent and the treasury could not pay soldiers and sailors enough to man their posts full-time. By the time messages from lookouts regarding the arrival of the Dutch fleet arrived in London, it was too late to save what remained of England’s navy.

Before entering the Medway, the Dutch bombarded the fort at Sheerness on the Isle of Sheppey. The English garrison, underpaid and demoralized, deserted the post, allowing the Dutch to land marines and seize the site on June 10. The Dutch maintained discipline and refrained from looting or burning homes when they landed detachments on the banks of the Medway. As they got closer to the Chatham dockyards, de Ruyter’s ships faced no meaningful resistance from the English.

The Battle

On June 22, Dutch forces completed their approach to the dockyards at Chatham. The centerpiece of the English defense was a massive iron chain stretched across the river at Gillingham. Despite English efforts to block the channel by sinking their own merchant ships, the Dutch attacked with determination. Several fireships broke the chain and Dutch vessels surged through the gap. A number of English guardships were destroyed almost immediately and the Dutch fleet began targeting HMS Royal Charles. Resistance proved to be insufficient to stop de Ruyter’s ships.

The next day, de Ruyter continued his advance upstream and found that the English had at last begun preparing defenses. Upnor Castle’s batteries began firing on the Dutch while other shore batteries tried to turn the Dutch back. However, most English ships were still undermanned, meaning that they could not meaningfully resist the Dutch. Admiral Monck ordered the Royal James, Royal Oak, and Loyal London to be scuttled in shallow water. Before this could happen, Dutch crews managed to light the ships on fire, permanently destroying them. De Ruyter then managed to pull his fleet back before they became trapped in the river.

The losses were heavily lopsided in favor of the Dutch. The English losses were as follows: two ships captured, 13 ships destroyed in combat, 30 ships scuttled by their own crews, and 500 men killed or wounded. The Dutch expended 8 fireships and lost between 50-100 men. Despite Admiral Monck’s best efforts, the English defenses were very weak because the Crown could not pay most of its sailors. The only meaningful resistance came from English batteries on shore.

Aftermath and Legacy of the Raid

After the battle, the Dutch kept their ships at the mouth of the Thames, exacerbating the English financial struggle. The difficulties that England faced caused a mass exodus from London and left Charles II on the brink of bankruptcy. As a result, the English agreed to sign terms that generally favored the Dutch. The Treaty of Breda ensured that the Dutch dominated several Atlantic trade routes. It also solidified Dutch naval dominance in northern Europe for many years. Charles II’s financial problems persisted, and in 1672 he was obliged to suspend debt repayments in the Stop of the Exchequer.

The defeat at the Medway was one of the most devastating defeats in British military history. The destruction of the fleet at Chatham had the same psychological effect on the English people as the Japanese assault on the Russian fleet at Port Arthur in 1904. For the Netherlands, the battle was a stunning victory and validated their confidence in Admiral de Ruyter’s abilities. The Dutch use of marines to support their raid was a major step in the evolution of amphibious operations.

The captured stern piece (transom) of the English flagship HMS Royal Charles remains on display at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam to this day, serving as a lasting physical symbol of the victory. In 2016, a Dutch movie about de Ruyter was released and became a hit with Dutch audiences. Additionally, reenactments of the battle have been staged with both English and Dutch actors. In the UK, the battle has mostly been forgotten, except by military historians and British naval officers hoping to draw lessons from Charles II’s lack of preparedness. The humiliation was quickly forgotten as the Royal Navy gained control of the seas in the 18th century.

By mid-1945, the Empire of Japan was at its breaking point. Its navy had been all but destroyed, and the rest of the Axis Powers in Europe had been defeated. Over half of its four-million-strong army was bogged down in China, an ongoing campaign since 1937. In short, Japan was beaten but not yet willing to surrender. Historically, Japan finally surrendered after the atomic bombings and the Soviet invasion of Manchuria. However, before these developments, the United States planned to go through with a full-scale invasion: Operation Downfall.

The Pacific War and the War in China

In 1937, the Empire of Japan launched an invasion of China. While initially successful, their conquests stalled in 1939, and the Second Sino-Japanese War became a bloody war of attrition. In 1941, Japan, taking advantage of the German victories in Europe, began its own lightning-fast series of campaigns across the Pacific. While the most famous of these attacks was the attack on Pearl Harbor, Japan also rapidly and successfully invaded American (Guam, Wake Island, and the Philippines) and British territories (Hong Kong, Malaya, and Burma) in the region.

Despite initial victories in the Pacific, the Imperial Japanese Navy’s gamble at Pearl Harbor did not pay off. Instead of scaring the US into negotiating peace and continuing its isolationism, the assault enraged the American populace and ensured that the United States would fight Japan to the bitter end.

In the following years, the early Japanese gains in the Pacific were reversed as the US embarked on a naval and island-hopping campaign, defeating the Japanese at nearly every turn. By mid-1945, Japan had lost its grip on much of its occupied territories in the Pacific, with the American victory in the Battle of Okinawa placing the Allies within striking distance of the Japanese home islands. However, this battle proved bloody for the Americans, resulting in 12,520 Americans killed or missing, the bloodiest of the Pacific War. With each successive invasion of the Pacific War getting increasingly bloody, the planned final campaign would certainly be even worse.

The First Steps: Operation Olympic

Operation Downfall was divided into two distinct phases, the first of which was Operation Olympic. Olympic was a plan to occupy Kyushu, the southernmost island of the Japanese home islands. Scheduled for November 1, 1945 (called “X-Day”), Olympic was to be an amphibious invasion of a scale never before seen in human history. For comparison, the initial landings of Operation Overlord (more commonly referred to as D-Day), the largest amphibious invasion in history, involved around 160,000 men. The initial landing of Operation Coronet called for 14 divisions, roughly 582,000 men.

Following the establishment of beachheads in Kyushu, several hundred thousand more Allied troops were scheduled to reinforce the first forces on the island. These reinforcements would bring the total Allied troops in Kyushu to around 767,000. Applying the same 35% casualty rate experienced on Okinawa, the planners of Operation Olympic expected around 268,000 casualties (killed, wounded, or captured). While Operation Olympic would have led to huge casualties, there is no reason to suggest that the invasion of Kyushu would have failed. With the battles of Normandy and Okinawa as models, one could expect heavy initial resistance from Japanese forces followed by months of heavy fighting that would likely last into 1946 until the end of the war.

Before the actual troop landings, Downfall called for increased bombing raids across the Japanese home islands, which were carried out using incendiary bombs. Large swathes of Tokyo were burned to the ground, and roughly 400,000 Japanese died in these bombing raids across the country.

In the ten days preceding X-Day, bombings would be increased and target important fortifications and bases across Japan. On the day before the landings on Kyushu, both air and sea forces would heavily bombard the landing beaches in hopes of softening the Japanese defenses.

Finally, on X-Day, US Marine and Army forces would land simultaneously in southern Kyushu on three separate landing sites, quickly moving to secure important objectives and clear the way for reinforcements to follow. However, the Imperial Japanese Army had anticipated an invasion of Kyushu and made its own plans to respond—plans that the Allies might not have been prepared to handle.

The Japanese Response: Operation Ketsugo

In 1274, Japan had fought off an attempted invasion by the Mongol Empire thanks to a “Kamikaze” (Divine Wind, a typhoon that sank the Mongol fleet). When the Mongols returned in another, even larger invasion attempt in 1281, it too was destroyed by a typhoon. This defeat was even more destructive for the Mongols, with some accounts even claiming 100,000 losses for the Mongol army.

While this might not seem relevant to Operation Downfall, the Japanese might have been greatly helped by another “Divine Wind.” The originally planned date for Operation Coronet, November 1, was amid a particularly terrible typhoon season, meaning Coronet would likely need to be postponed. Early December was the earliest, but 1946 was more likely to avoid the winter storms. This would have given Japanese forces even more time to prepare for the seemingly inevitable conflict.

While Japanese forces overseas had suffered massive defeats across all fronts, the Imperial Japanese Army still had significant forces in the home islands. Knowing an American invasion would most likely land in Kyushu, it was the closest of the home islands to the now American-controlled Okinawa; the Japanese planned on confronting the invasion there. The Japanese defense plan, called Operation Ketsugo (translating to “Decisive Operation”), called for the construction of new airfields in Kyushu, primarily for use by kamikaze pilots. By the historical date of the Japanese surrender (August 14, 1945), the Imperial Japanese Army had amassed a force of over 900,000 troops for the defense of Kyushu, a number that likely would have ballooned even further given more time.

In addition to a massive wave of kamikaze strikes, the Imperial Japanese Navy also had several hundred two-man “midget submarines” to harass American ships, at least 800 suicide “Shinyo” motor boats assigned to Kyushu, and a planned 4,000 “Fukuryu,” suicide divers. The Japanese even planned to mobilize their “Civilian Volunteer Corps,” an army of conscripted civilians, both men and women, armed with hand grenades, swords, spears, and anything else they could use to inflict death. Approximately 2.4 million civilians lived in Kyushu, and many of them (men aged 15-60 and women aged 17-40) would be sent to die under the slogan “the glorious death of the 100 million.”

Ketsugo was not intended to stop the invasion; in fact, it relied on allowing American landings. Ketsugo was designed to cause as many American casualties as possible, no matter the cost to the Japanese people. The hope was that inflicting so many casualties on American forces would make the US public demand peace, thus avoiding a foreign occupation of Japan through a negotiated peace.

It was a desperate final gambit, not a serious chance at victory. However, this was not likely to work. The American public was still enraged at the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and fully committed to seeing the war to its end. In the eyes of the United States, Japan’s unconditional surrender was the only path to peace, and this was not likely to change.

The Final Blow: Operation Coronet

The second phase of Downfall, Operation Coronet, was intended to land on Honshu, the largest of the Japanese home islands. According to the plan, US forces would land on the Kanto Plain near Tokyo on March 1, 1946, called “Y-Day.” Theoretically, they would capture the Japanese capital, deal a knockout blow, and end the war. Coronet called for landing 25 divisions, a significantly larger force than that used in the Kyushu landings. Overall, Coronet was intended to include 1,171,646 American troops and Australian, Canadian, British, and French reinforcements following the initial landings in the Kanto Plain. Unlike Olympic, American forces would also include two armored divisions sent from Europe, which would have a significant advantage over weaker Japanese tanks. Like the invasion of Kyushu, Coronet would be preceded by major bombardments of the Kanto Plain by land and sea, with many planes taking off from airfields in occupied Kyushu.

Japanese defenses were significantly weaker near Tokyo than those in Kyushu, and they lacked sizable forces to defend the city. While Japanese forces were prepared to defend Tokyo to the last man, the Japanese military knew the region was indefensible due to the flat plains of the region. Instead of simply inflicting casualties as was planned for Kyushu, the defense plan of Honshu relied on driving the American forces into the sea and preventing them from establishing a beachhead. The Japanese understood that should a significant American force land in the Kanto Plain and successfully establish a beachhead, it would inevitably succeed in capturing Tokyo. Because of the more powerful Allied force planned for landing on Honshu and the weaker Japanese defenses, Coronet would likely be less bloody than Olympic and, should the Japanese high command or even the emperor himself be captured, a war-winning decisive battle.

Would Operation Downfall Have Succeeded?

While an invasion of Japan would have been enormously deadly, American combat deaths in WWII would likely have more than doubled, and the Japanese population would have suffered even more, Downfall would almost certainly have resulted in an Allied victory. The United States massively outmatched Japan in population, industry, and resources, and the American populace was fully committed to seeing the war through to its end. The Allies were unwilling to allow anything less than Japan’s unconditional surrender.

Regardless of Ketsugo and the increased casualties it would undoubtedly cause, Japan’s defeat was inevitable. Of course, Operation Downfall was never carried out. Instead of months of brutal combat in a land invasion of Japan, the war ended only a few days after two atomic bombings and the loss of Japanese territories in mainland Asia to a Soviet invasion. While it is impossible to say for certain how Operation Downfall would play out, an American victory at enormous cost for both sides seems the most likely scenario.

The heroic last stand of King Leonidas of Sparta and his elite bodyguard of 300 men against the Persian army at the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC is one of the best known episodes from the history of ancient Greece. Despite Leonidas’s fame, most of what we know of his life comes from a few short passages in the Histories of Herodotus. Many details of his life and kingship before his climactic death at Thermopylae have to be inferred from the context of Spartan politics and the Graeco-Persian Wars.

A Spartan Prince

Leonidas was born in c. 540 BC into the Agiad dynasty, one of the two royal dynasties in the city-state of Sparta. For hundreds of years, Sparta was jointly ruled by two kings from the Agiad and Eurypontid dynasties. This unusual arrangement avoided the excesses of an autocratic regime, but often encouraged competition and rivalry between the two kings.

Leonidas was the third son of King Anaxandridas II of Sparta, who reigned for approximately four decades between c. 560 BC and c. 520 BC. According to Herodotus, Anaxandridas had initially been married to a niece who remained childless for several years. He refused demands to divorce his wife but agreed to take a second wife while remaining married to the first. After his second wife bore him a son named Cleomenes, Anaxandridas’s first wife gave him three more children: Dorieus, Leonidas, and Cleombrotus.

As the third son of Anaxandridas, Leonidas was not expected to succeed to the kingship. Like all boys of the Spartan citizenry, at the age of seven he would have been separated from his family to undergo the Agoge, an arduous physical training regime to prepare Spartan men for military service. At the age of 18, the most accomplished young men would join an elite body that included senior army officers and members of the 300-strong royal body guard.

The Age of Cleomenes

Following the death of Anaxandridas in around 520, the Spartans recognized his eldest son as King Cleomenes I. The succession was challenged by Dorieus, who claimed seniority by virtue of being the eldest son of Anaxandridas’s first wife. After being forced into exile, Dorieus attempted to set up his own power base in North Africa and later Sicily, but was killed in battle in around 510. While Leonidas was now the heir of the childless Cleomenes, little is known about his life during his half-brother’s reign. However, Cleomenes’s reign would have profound consequences for Leonidas’s reign decades later.

After vanquishing Dorieus, Cleomenes proved to be one of Sparta’s most ambitious kings. In 510, Cleomenes led a Spartan invasion of Athens to overthrow the Athenian tyrant Hippias. While the Spartans hoped to install a pro-Spartan oligarchy, the Athenian statesman Cleisthenes introduced democratic reforms, prompting Cleomenes to consider further intervention in Athens.

In 506, the Spartan kings Cleomenes and Demaratus launched a campaign against Athens at the head of a large Peloponnesian army. However, the alliance soon disintegrated after the Corinthians withdrew from the coalition, prompting Demaratus to follow suit and abandon the campaign. The disintegration of the Spartan alliance may have been due to a news of a recent Athenian alliance with the Persian Empire, but the incident fatally undermined relations between the two Spartan kings.

At the turn of the century, Cleomenes refused to join the Ionian Revolt against Persian rule. Instead, Sparta went to war against Argos in 494 and destroyed the Argive army in battle. However, after returning to Sparta, Cleomenes was put on trial for failing to occupy the city. Although he was acquitted, the trial may have been an attempt by Demaratus to undermine him.

King of Sparta

In 491, following another disagreement between the joint kings, Cleomenes deposed Demaratus after bribing the oracle in Delphi to pronounce Demaratus illegitimate. Demaratus fled Sparta and was granted refuge in the Persian Empire. Cleomenes’s corruption was soon exposed, and Herodotus claims that the king became insane and fled the city. He was captured and imprisoned in 490 and subsequently took his own life in prison.

Modern historians such as Paul Cartledge suggest that Cleomenes may have been killed by his half-brothers Leonidas and Cleombrotus. In any case, Cleomenes’s death elevated Leonidas to the Spartan kingship alongside Leotychidas, the Eurypontid king whom Cleomenes had installed as Demaratus’s successor. To consolidate his position, Leonidas married Cleomenes’s daughter Gorgo.

Leonidas came to the throne during the Greco-Persian Wars, although it is unclear if he was already king when Athens requested Spartan assistance against the Persians in 490 BC. The fact that the Persians were harboring the deposed Demaratus engendered Spartan hostility towards the Persians, and Sparta was prepared to march to Athenians’ aid once they finished celebrating the Karneia festival. In the event, the Athenians defeated the Persians at the Battle of Marathon without Spartan assistance.

The Battle of Marathon forced the Persians to abandon their first invasion of Greece. The death of King Darius I in 486 BC and his son Xerxes’s efforts to consolidate his rule in response to a series of uprisings across the Persian Empire allowed the Greeks some respite from further Persian invasion.

The Anti-Persian Coalition

By the late 480s, once Xerxes had restored order in his empire, the Persian king began preparations for a second invasion of Greece. According to Herodotus, the Spartans received advance warning of the Persian invasion from the exiled Demaratus, who sent a secret message in a tablet covered in wax. The Spartan men were initially confused by the blank tablet, and it was only after Leonidas’s queen Gorgo suggested burning off the wax that the secret message was revealed.

The Spartans responded by inviting the 30-odd Greek city-states committed to resisting the Persians to a meeting at the Isthmus of Corinth to consider the military response. While Sparta and Athens were the leading powers in the coalition, around half of the city-states were members of the Spartan-led Peloponnesian League. This ensured that Spartans would command Greek forces on both land and sea.

As King of Sparta, Leonidas would have played a major part in formulating the coalition strategy. The Greek allies identified a series of three defensive positions where they could expect to resist larger enemy numbers on equal terms. The first was the Vale of Tempe in Thessaly in Northern Greece. The second was the narrow pass of Thermopylae at the Malian Gulf. The third was the Isthmus of Corinth itself, which connected the Peloponnese to the rest of Greece.

Xerxes’s invasion force crossed the Hellespont in the spring of 480 BC and slowly progressed southwards towards the Vale of Tempe. A Greek force of 10,000 was initially deployed to defend the position, but withdrew after being informed by King Alexander I of Macedon that that the position could be outflanked.

Thermopylae

During the summer, the Greek city-states were prevented from mobilizing their full manpower since they had religious obligations to celebrate the Olympic Games in honor of Zeus. Meanwhile, the Spartans were also due to celebrate the Karneia festival dedicated to Apollo that had prevented them from fighting at Marathon a decade earlier.

At this critical juncture, the Spartans sought guidance from the famous oracle at the Sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi, which informed them that either Sparta would be occupied, or they would be mourning the death of a king.

After receiving the oracle’s answer, King Leonidas left for Thermopylae with his elite royal bodyguard of 300 hoplites. The Spartan contingent also included 1,000 enslaved Helots and a similar number of Perioikoi, free men recruited from the Spartan hinterland. Including various allied contingents, Leonidas marched to Thermopylae with some 4,000 men.

At Thermopylae, they were joined by around a thousand Boeotians, Locrians, and Phocians each. Leonidas’s 7,000-strong army was still a fraction of Xerxes’s invasion force, which modern historians estimate in the tens of thousands. Although he knew there was no prospect of defeating the Persians, Leonidas hoped that he could delay them long enough for the other Greek states to mobilize their forces at the end of the festivities.

Upon arrival at Thermopylae, Leonidas fortified an old Phocian wall while Xerxes offered him various inducements to surrender. When a Persian envoy asked the Greeks to hand over their weapons, Leonidas challenged them, “Come and take them!”

For two days, the Persians suffered heavy losses as wave after wave of infantry failed to break through the wall. Even Xerxes’s famous Immortals could make no headway and were forced to retreat. Meanwhile the Greek fleet held the Persian navy at bay at Artemisium to prevent any Persian landing in Leonidas’s rear.

After nightfall on the second day of battle, a local man named Ephialtes informed the Persians of a narrow mountain pass to the rear of the Spartan position. Leonidas had known about this prior to the battle and deployed the 1,000 Phocians to defend the pass. However, they were no match for Xerxes’s Immortals, who overwhelmed them on the morning of the third day of battle.

Recognizing that his position was untenable, Leonidas intended to continue fighting to the death with his Spartans but offered the allies the opportunity to withdraw. Most of the allies agreed, but the 700 Thespians and 400 Thebans in the Boeotian force remained with the Spartans.

Leonidas ordered his men to sally forth beyond the wall, where they engaged in bitter hand-to-hand combat with the Persians. In the midst of the melee, as the Greeks sought to sell their lives as dearly as possible, Leonidas fell in combat. Nearly all the Greeks fought to the death, apart from a small number of Thebans who surrendered. For the loss of some 4,000 men, the Greeks killed 20,000 Persians in response.

Leonidas was succeeded by his young son Pleistarchus, but the new king was still a child, so Leonidas’s brother Cleombrotus assumed command of the Spartan army and prepared to resist the Persians at the Isthmus of Corinth, while the Greek fleet withdrew from Artemisium and sailed to the island of Salamis in the Saronic Gulf to prevent the Persians from landing at the isthmus.

Although the Athenians abandoned their city to the Persians, the Athenian commander Themistocles defeated the Persian fleet at Salamis and forced Xerxes to abandon his invasion. In 479 BC, Cleombrotus’s son Pausanias decisively defeated a Persian army at Plataea, bringing an end to the Graeco-Persian Wars.

Leonidas the Legend

In the decades after his death, Leonidas’s last stand at Thermopylae acquired legendary proportions. A monument of a stone lion was raised near the spot where Leonidas fell in battle, and some 40 years after the battle the Spartans recovered Leonidas’s remains from the Thermopylae battlefield. They may have been placed in a building known as the Leonidaion, which served as the focal point of public veneration for the king.

Leonidas’s legacy has endured over the centuries, and he has often been hailed as a defender of freedom against the tyranny of Persian despotism, even though Sparta itself was one of the most oppressive societies in Greece. The 16th century French essayist Michel de Montgaine argued that Thermopylae was a finer demonstration of Greek military prowess than the victories at Salamis and Plataea.

In 1814, after Napoleon fought a brilliant but ultimately unsuccessful campaign against the armies of the Sixth Coalition, French neoclassical artist Jacques-Louis David painted his grand canvas Leonidas at Thermopylae, depicting the king and his Spartans preparing to sacrifice themselves in a noble cause.

More recently, the 2006 historical action film 300 has reignited popular interest in Leonidas and the Spartans at Thermopylae. Like many retellings of the battle, it does not account for the contribution of the Helots and the perioikoi in the Spartan army, nor the allied Greek city-states, particularly the 700 Thespians who fought and died alongside the Spartans.

In his short 24-year life, Baldwin IV celebrated many victories against his long-standing rival, Saladin. But his victory at the Battle of Montgisard is undoubtedly his most famous victory. Still recalled by witnesses 80 years later, Baldwin faced impossible odds. Yet his courage and fortitude ensured the 16-year-old Leper King delivered a crushing blow to his opponent.

Baldwin IV, The Leper King

King Baldwin IV came to the throne in 1174, a mere 13-year-old boy following the death of his father, King Amalric. Like the other Crusader States, the Kingdom of Jerusalem was a frontier kingdom, surrounded by hostile Muslim enemies. Warfare and conflict were a fundamental part of life, and kings were required to lead their troops into battle regularly.

King Amalric had offered the kingdom strong leadership and had been, in many ways, an ideal king. The accession of a boy untested in warfare was a huge blow to the kingdom. But youth was not the only hindrance to Baldwin’s reign. Shortly after his coronation, Baldwin was diagnosed with leprosy, his illness discovered by his tutor and friend, the chronicler William, Archbishop of Tyre.

Saladin, Sultan of Egypt and Syria

The start of Baldwin’s reign coincided with the rise of the greatest threat to the Crusader States: Saladin. Saladin was the ambitious sultan of both Egypt and Syria and sought to unite the fractured Muslim kingdoms under one ruler before striking a decisive blow against the Christians residing in Syria. Ultimately, recapturing Jerusalem was his goal.

Saladin was ruthless and had secured a series of victories in Syria, defeating his Muslim opponents. Seizing Damascus, his growing influence in the region was a cause for concern for Baldwin. His victories in Hama and Homs, followed by gains in northern Syria, emboldened him further. In 1177, Saladin ended his campaigns in Syria and returned to Egypt to plan his next invasion. This time, his target would not be Muslim rulers who opposed him; he now turned his attention to the Crusader States.

The Arrival of Count Philip of Flanders

Count Philip of Flanders arrived in Jerusalem in August 1177 with a significant retinue. His arrival was met with enthusiasm, as it was hoped he would join Baldwin’s ambitious plan to launch an invasion of Egypt. With Byzantine support already secured, the proposed expedition would have seen substantial forces enter Egypt. If victorious, the invasion would have struck a crippling blow to Saladin’s base of power. However, the lack of enthusiasm from Philip of Flanders and other nobles in the Crusader States meant Baldwin’s ambitious plan came to nothing.

Philip decided to focus his energies elsewhere and joined Raymond III of Tripoli in attacking Harim, a Muslim-held stronghold in northern Syria. To strengthen this expedition, Baldwin sent 100 of his best knights from Jerusalem to join Philip. A substantial crusader army, perhaps numbering as many as 2,000 infantry, also departed, along with many Knights Templar and Knights Hospitaller. Philip’s departure in September 1177 left Jerusalem weak, vulnerable, and ripe for attack.

Jerusalem Left Vulnerable

Saladin became aware of the vulnerability of the Kingdom of Jerusalem and took advantage of this fortuitous circumstance. He assembled a large force and made his way from Egypt, heading north towards Gaza in November 1177, intending to invade the southern part of the kingdom.

Saladin’s motives are unclear; he may have wished to distract the forces attacking Harim, or he may have sought to deal a critical blow to Baldwin and Jerusalem directly. Whatever his intentions, Saladin, spurred on by his knowledge of Baldwin’s vulnerability, was rash and overconfident. He made the decision to leave his heavy baggage at al-Arish, taking only his lightly armed troops, and then marched towards Ascalon, a Christian stronghold.

Baldwin Responds to Saladin’s Threat

Baldwin was recovering from an illness brought on by leprosy when he learned of Saladin’s invasion. All that could be found within the entire kingdom were 600 knights, not nearly enough to face the might of Saladin. The situation seemed dire. Nevertheless, Baldwin mustered the few troops he had and marched to Ascalon to confront his rival.

At Ascalon, Baldwin issued an arrière-ban, a royal proclamation calling all able-bodied men to arms. Such proclamations were rare and used only in the most extreme circumstances. Baldwin waited within the city walls, anticipating Saladin’s arrival.

The sultan reached Ascalon on November 22, 1177, emboldened by his superior numbers. Baldwin led a force outside the city to assess his opposition. Saladin’s forces dwarfed his own, and after a short engagement, Baldwin retreated into the fortress of Ascalon. The king could only watch as reinforcements arrived to swell Saladin’s already large army.

Reinforcements also arrived for Baldwin in response to his arrière-ban. However, as they attempted to reach Ascalon, Saladin’s men seized many of them, strapped them to camels, and sold them into slavery. Baldwin could only watch in despair. The situation seemed hopeless, and the outcome appeared to be a foregone conclusion.

The Road to Montgisard

Saladin then did something unexpected: he divided his army. Feeling no threat from Baldwin, he separated his troops into detachments to pillage the surrounding areas. Saladin himself led a detachment north. He arrived at Ramla, and the Christian inhabitants fled to Jaffa. His men burned villages in their wake. They then moved on to Lydda, causing destruction and mayhem as they advanced.

Baldwin learned of the destruction and suffering of his people, and a sense of honor prevented him from remaining within the walls of Ascalon. His duty, his lineage, and his office compelled him to act.

Foolishly, Saladin did not expect Baldwin to leave the confines of the fortress and failed to leave a detachment to monitor the city and the king’s movements. This oversight allowed Baldwin to coordinate with a group of Templars stationed at Gaza and plan an attack.

Saladin, emboldened by his victories and superior numbers, reached the hill of Montgisard on November 25, 1177. The sultan had dispersed his men to raid the nearby countryside. He and his troops were preparing to cross a stream when he was caught off guard.

Baldwin and his host appeared before Saladin, severely outnumbered but filled with courage and emboldened by faith. Albert, Bishop of Bethlehem, carried the True Cross before the army. This relic had previously secured victory for the Crusaders and the Kings of Jerusalem; it was now needed more than ever.

Baldwin took a moment for prayer and reflection before rousing his troops for the forthcoming battle. Weakened by illness caused by leprosy, the 16-year-old Leper King who defied a death sentence, stood before his men. Despite his youth, his relative inexperience in warfare, and his disfiguring condition, his troops trusted him implicitly.

The Battle at Montgisard

Baldwin was the overall commander at Montgisard, but he benefited from the military experience of others, in particular Reynald of Châtillon, a seasoned warrior recently released from Muslim captivity after 15 years. If Baldwin’s courage faltered, Reynald’s desire for vengeance would have spurred him forward. But Baldwin’s courage did not fail; his desire to protect his people, his kingdom, and his crown was paramount.

Saladin sent out messengers ordering his scattered troops to return. Trumpets sounded, and drums rolled, calling his men to arms. As Saladin’s troops regrouped, Baldwin formed his battle lines and prepared to attack. The cavalry was placed at the front, with the infantry forming a line behind them.

Saladin’s troops were still in disarray when Baldwin launched his surprise attack in the afternoon. William of Tyre wrote that at first the battle was indecisive, but Saladin’s lines were soon broken by Baldwin’s forces, emboldened by faith.

Saladin’s great-nephew was killed in the battle. One of the Franks nearly reached Saladin himself but was slain before he could land a blow on the sultan. The region was then plagued by relentless winter rains for the next ten days, making it impossible for Saladin to regroup his forces.

A Victory for Baldwin

After Baldwin’s troops slaughtered many of Saladin’s forces, the Muslims retreated twelve miles to a swamp when night fell. They were relentlessly pursued by the Christians. Many fell to the sword; others were captured and sold into slavery.

The only men in Saladin’s army who did not flee were his Mamluk guard. Dressed in yellow, this 1,000-strong force acted as Saladin’s personal bodyguard. They clashed fiercely with the Frankish troops as Saladin dismounted his horse and mounted a racing camel. The Mamluks did not cease their desperate fighting until their sultan had escaped.

Saladin was stunned by this surprise Frankish attack and the swiftness of Baldwin’s victory. The 16-year-old king had achieved his first significant triumph. His reputation as a heroic warrior, in the manner of his forefathers, was born at Montgisard. This was no standard battlefield victory. Baldwin had defeated the mighty Saladin against formidable odds. His triumph was seen as an affirmation of divine approval for his kingship and for his kingdom.

William of Tyre estimates Baldwin’s forces at 375 knights against Saladin’s combined force of 26,000 light cavalry. This figure must be treated cautiously, as it likely emphasizes the odds Baldwin faced, especially when other contemporary sources claim Baldwin lost over 1,000 men. Nevertheless, Baldwin was severely outnumbered, perhaps by as much as three-to-one. He may have commanded around 3,000 infantry and 580 cavalry against Saladin’s 6,000 light cavalry and 2,660 heavy cavalry.

The Aftermath of Montgisard

The Hospitallers cared for the wounded, who numbered around 750. These were carried back to Jerusalem, while Baldwin returned to Ascalon to await those troops who had pursued Saladin’s men far from their original objective. Baldwin distributed the collected booty and celebrated his great victory.

The Battle at Montgisard was memorialized by its victor in the construction of a Benedictine monastery on the site of the battle, dedicated to St Catherine of Alexandria.

Baldwin knew that this victory was not decisive and that Saladin would return with renewed determination. In preparation, he ordered the construction of a new castle of Chastelet at Jacob’s Ford in 1178.

Fresh attacks from Saladin were launched throughout the Leper King’s reign, but the Battle of Montgisard held a special place in Frankish memory. Eighty years later, during the Seventh Crusade, there were still those who recalled Baldwin’s victory at Montgisard, the Leper King who defeated the mighty Saladin against seemingly impossible odds.

According to Arabic sources, Saladin sent a letter of condolence to Baldwin IV after the death of his father, King Amalric, in 1174. The letter appears to have been an attempt to establish peaceful relations with his new Frankish rival. Its tone was friendly, expressing hope that Baldwin might regard him as a friend, as Amalric had done.

This cordial exchange contrasts sharply with the fierce rivalry that later defined Saladin vs Baldwin IV and reveals the diplomatic courtesy between Christian and Muslim rulers alongside their ongoing conflict.

The Rise of Saladin

Saladin was born into a prominent Kurdish family around 1138. His birth name was Yusuf (Joseph), a figure who features prominently in both the Bible and the Qur’an as the son of Jacob, sent by God to save Egypt. The connection to Joseph was no doubt emphasized by Saladin’s supporters once he found himself in Egypt as the nephew of Shirkuh, a mercenary in the service of Nur al-Din.

Saladin was appointed vizier of Egypt in 1169 and immediately began consolidating his position. This task was made much easier following the death of his lord, Nur al-Din, in 1171. Saladin had ambitions in Syria and entered Damascus in 1174, taking the city from his Muslim foes. He defeated his rivals at the Battle of the Horns of Hama in 1175 and was proclaimed the first sultan of both Egypt and Syria.

These acquisitions were merely stepping stones, bringing Saladin closer to his ultimate goal. His grand ambition was to unite the Muslims in Syria under his rule and deliver a fatal blow to the Crusader States. It was this ambition that would bring Saladin and Baldwin IV into direct and dramatic confrontation.

The Accession of Baldwin IV

Baldwin IV descended from the Frankish knights of the First Crusade who seized Jerusalem in 1099 and established the Crusader States. He assumed the kingship of Jerusalem in 1174 following the death of his father, King Amalric. Amalric was a celebrated military commander who, like Saladin, had ambitions in Egypt.

Baldwin’s accession coincided with the rise of Saladin, and a strong leader and competent commander was required to meet this dangerous threat.

Unfortunately, Baldwin was a mere boy, just 13 years of age, when he became king. Moreover, shortly after his coronation, it was discovered that he was suffering from leprosy. Impeded by both his youth and his illness, a succession of regents ruled in Baldwin’s stead. Nevertheless, once he came of age in 1176 at the age of 15, Baldwin took full control of his government and relinquished authority only when his illness became too severe.

Saladin undoubtedly rejoiced at the prospect of facing a minor and ailing king. However, Baldwin would prove to be a surprisingly formidable opponent. The stage was set for Saladin vs Baldwin IV, a contest that would test both rulers repeatedly over the next decade.

The Battle of Montgisard

Aside from a few skirmishes, Baldwin was first truly tested against Saladin in 1177 at the Battle of Montgisard. Taking advantage of Jerusalem’s vulnerability after its troops had been sent north by Baldwin to support the forces of Philip of Flanders, Saladin launched an invasion of the kingdom. Knowing that Jerusalem was largely undefended, Saladin marched towards Ascalon, where Baldwin intercepted him with a small force.

The 16-year-old Baldwin was about to face his toughest challenge to date. Severely outnumbered, Baldwin decided not to engage immediately and remained within the walls of Ascalon. An emboldened Saladin failed to take proper precautions, believing Baldwin would not dare leave the fortress, and divided his troops into raiding parties. These detachments devastated the surrounding countryside.

A furious Baldwin met Saladin at Montgisard and, despite being heavily outnumbered by as much as three to one, ordered his army to charge. The result was catastrophic for Saladin. The sultan narrowly avoided being killed and escaped on a camel, forced to watch as his men were slaughtered.

In this first significant engagement, Saladin learned much about his opponent. Despite his crippling illness, Baldwin was courageous, resolute, and a worthy descendant of his heroic forefathers.

The Aftermath of Montgisard

Following Baldwin’s victory at Montgisard, the relationship between the two rulers was dominated by conflict. In April 1179, Baldwin’s constable, Humphrey of Toron, was killed by Saladin’s forces while Baldwin was leading a raid into Banyas. Then, in June 1179, Baldwin suffered a crushing defeat at Marj Ayun as he attempted to halt Saladin’s attacks on Christian territory east of Sidon.

These were minor engagements in the broader struggle, and the shifting fortunes of battle had little lasting impact on the region’s geography. They were, however, opportunities for each leader to test his opponent on the battlefield and inflict significant damage upon his enemy’s retinue.

The Construction of Chastelet Castle

Baldwin intended to fortify his borders lest Saladin launch another attack. He ordered the construction of a castle called Chastelet overlooking Jacob’s Ford, which lay on the border between Christian and Muslim territories. Jacob’s Ford was strategically significant and used by both Christians and Muslims, as it sat on the main road between Acre and Damascus.

Saladin considered the castle an infringement upon Muslim territory and ultimately disrespectful. This was not how one ruler ought to treat another. Saladin wanted to avoid a confrontation and attempted diplomacy, treating Baldwin courteously as a fellow ruler. Saladin initially offered Baldwin 60,000 dinars, later increasing the offer to 100,000 dinars to demolish the castle. Baldwin refused. Saladin responded by raiding the surrounding area, and in August 1179, he launched an assault on the castle itself. After five days, Saladin breached the defenses and tore them down. More than 700 soldiers and laborers were taken prisoner, and many more were killed during the Siege of Jacob’s Ford.

Baldwin was in Tiberias at the time of the attack. By the time he reached the castle with reinforcements, he was too late. His ambitious project lay in smoldering ruins.

A Truce is Made

Persistent warfare was costly and time-consuming for both sides. It was often deemed preferable to live in harmony alongside one’s enemies than to live in perpetual warfare. As much as Baldwin and Saladin fought, they also both understood the value of peace. In 1180, a two-year truce was agreed between the two rulers. For Saladin, the truce enabled him to devote his attention to campaigns in northern Syria. Baldwin, however, needed the treaty more urgently. His health had begun to deteriorate significantly, and he needed to address the pressing matter of succession.

Baldwin married his sister, Sibylla, to a Poitevin knight, Guy of Lusignan, hoping that he would serve as Baldwin’s successor and military commander when the king became too ill to exercise his powers.

Baldwin’s decision to marry his sister to Guy was unpopular in certain circles at court and caused division within the kingdom. A significant party of nobles refused to follow Guy. Ultimately, Baldwin proved unable to relinquish effective control to Guy. As a result, the Leper King continued to rule despite his increasingly severe physical limitations.

The Truce is Broken

The treaty between Baldwin and Saladin was broken in less than two years. Although the two rulers demonstrated a mutual respect to such an extent that peace between the pair was relatively easy to establish, others did not. In November 1181 Reynald of Châtillon attacked a Muslim caravan traveling between Egypt and Syria that passed near his lands. Reynald seized their goods and imprisoned the travelers. A furious Baldwin, attempting to restore the terms of the truce, ordered his vassal to return the stolen booty and release the prisoners. Reynald refused.

Saladin himself, however, had little appetite for lasting peace with the Christians and did not intend to honor the treaty fully. In the spring of 1182, a Christian ship ran aground in Egypt, whereupon Saladin imprisoned its 1,600 passengers and seized their goods. Baldwin attempted to secure their release but to no avail, as Saladin wished to resume hostilities with his Frankish neighbors.

The Battle of Le Forbelet

By 1182, Baldwin’s suffering had greatly increased. He was now blind, and his hands and feet had begun to deteriorate. Ulcers covered his body, and the dressing of these wounds often aggravated infection and pain. Riding had become nearly impossible, and for this reason, the king was frequently carried in a litter. Nevertheless, he did not relent. Whatever his condition, Baldwin continued to appear at the head of his army, leading from the front.

In July 1182, Saladin felt confident enough to attack the Kingdom of Jerusalem directly. He gathered an immense force and marched into the kingdom. His troops laid siege to the castle of Bethsan in Galilee. Baldwin marched to relieve the siege with his own host but found himself severely outnumbered.

In the blistering summer heat, the two forces clashed at Le Forbelet on July 15, 1182. Baldwin’s men stood firm, determined to follow their leper king wherever he led them.

On that day, more men died from sunstroke and heat exhaustion than by the sword. The battle was sweltering and brutal, but ultimately Baldwin emerged victorious.

Once again, the Leper King demonstrated to Saladin that superior numbers did not necessarily guarantee victory. As at Montgisard, Baldwin’s abilities as a military leader matched the strength of Saladin’s host.

Baldwin Succumbs to Leprosy

By this stage, Saladin’s rivalry with Baldwin IV had become more than a military contest; it was a test of endurance and leadership. Baldwin’s final years were marked by excruciating pain. His inability to devolve power to his brother-in-law, Guy of Lusignan, meant that Baldwin continued to shoulder these burdens himself.

In late November 1183, Saladin besieged the fortress of Kerak. The bombardment was intense and required a personal response from the ailing king. Carried in a litter drawn by two horses, Baldwin made his way towards Kerak.

Saladin had drawn many of his forces from Egypt and feared for the security of his realm. He therefore abandoned the siege of Kerak on December 4, avoiding an open pitched battle with Baldwin, and returned to Egypt. Baldwin entered Kerak in triumph in what would be his last major success against Saladin.

Baldwin’s condition continued to deteriorate, and the king finally succumbed to his illness in May 1185. Although the rivalry between Baldwin and Saladin ended in 1185, Saladin continued to challenge Baldwin’s successors. He captured Jerusalem in 1187 following the disastrous Christian defeat at the Battle of Hattin.

The two men were, in many ways, evenly matched in military skill and political leadership. However, Baldwin’s illness earned him the respect and admiration of both friend and foe, and his determination in the defense of Jerusalem distinguished him as one of the most remarkable rulers of his age. Saladin himself would enjoy a reputation among Christians as a paragon of chivalric virtue. Time and again, Baldwin’s resolve compelled Saladin to treat him as a serious and capable opponent. After Montgisard, neither ruler underestimated the other. Their conflict demonstrates that even during a religious war, admiration and respect could exist between enemies bound by an aristocratic code of honor.

Baldwin IV, known as the ‘Leper King’ of Jerusalem, ruled his fragile kingdom with unexpected strength for over a decade. Afflicted by leprosy from a young age, he nevertheless held together a realm threatened externally by Saladin and internally by factional rivalries. His authority, resilience, and political control kept powerful nobles in check and invasion at bay. Yet when Baldwin died in 1185 aged just 24, the delicate balance he had maintained collapsed, exposing deep divisions that would soon cost Jerusalem its survival.

The Death of Baldwin IV

Crippled by leprosy since his teens, Baldwin IV had been a surprisingly effective king. His illness elicited compassion from his subjects, and their loyalty to their sick king was a key factor in the success of his kingship.

In 1185, Baldwin finally succumbed to his illness and died. He was buried close to his father in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

Within two years of Baldwin’s death, the kingdom he had striven so hard to defend had fallen into the hands of his longstanding Muslim rival, Saladin.

Events leading up to the Leper King’s death help explain why, after his passing, the kingdom fell, and the city was lost to Christendom forever.

Baldwin IV and Guy of Lusignan

Baldwin IV, the Leper King who defied a death sentence, was diagnosed shortly after his coronation in 1174. It was understood that he would not father any children to succeed him. His elder sister, Sybilla, and his younger half-sister, Isabella, were therefore central to the succession.

Sybilla married William of Montferrat in 1177, and by him she bore a son named Baldwin. Montferrat died shortly before the child’s birth, and Sybilla later married a second husband, Guy of Lusignan.

By 1183, Baldwin became too ill to rule and needed a regent to govern alongside him. Guy, as his brother-in-law and the husband of the heiress to the kingdom, was the natural choice. Guy proved to be a poor military commander whom the nobles refused to follow, and Baldwin removed him from his post within weeks of his appointment.

Guy’s unpopularity meant that the prospect of him succeeding to his brother-in-law’s throne was deeply contentious. Most vocal amongst those in opposition to Guy was Raymond III of Tripoli, a cousin of Baldwin IV and a man who served as his regent on several occasions.

To ensure Guy would not succeed him and thus tear the kingdom apart, Baldwin attempted to have Guy’s marriage to Sybilla annulled. But Guy’s disobedience, along with Sybilla’s refusal to leave the husband she loved, thwarted Baldwin’s plans.

King Baldwin V, the King’s Nephew

With Guy out of the picture, the desperately ill Baldwin IV had to reconsider his succession. Agnes of Courtenay, Baldwin’s mother, was a strong influence over her son. She suggested that Baldwin appoint his nephew, Sybilla’s son, as his successor.

Acting on his mother’s advice, Baldwin addressed the matter by having his nephew crowned as his co-ruler. It also denied Guy the throne and was welcomed by the nobility. In November 1183, the coronation was celebrated in Jerusalem, and both kings appeared in their crowns.

Baldwin V would rule alongside a regent, Raymond III of Tripoli, who would once again relieve the burden of kingship from Baldwin IV until his death. Although Baldwin IV knew that it was not ideal for his young nephew to rule as sole king, he hoped that Raymond’s competence and experience would allow the kingdom to survive until Baldwin V came of age.

Although Baldwin IV’s plans did come to fruition, they would not last long. Baldwin V died in August 1186, a mere 17 months after his uncle.

Guy Becomes King

Upon the boy’s death, the throne passed to his mother, Sybilla. The nobles, however, still opposed Guy. They agreed to crown her only on the condition that she divorce him. Sybilla agreed, but only if she could choose her next husband to rule alongside her.

With the divorce agreed, Sybilla celebrated her coronation in September 1186. When asked whom she chose to rule alongside her, she remarried Guy and had him crowned alongside her.

A disgruntled Raymond left Jerusalem. He failed to garner enough support to mount a concerted effort to challenge Sybilla and Guy’s rule, since most of the nobles reluctantly agreed to work with Guy. Undoubtedly, they wanted to avoid civil war, but it was difficult to remove an anointed and crowned king.

Guy began his reign in the same way Baldwin IV’s had begun, with the looming threat of Saladin. But in 1186, Saladin was in a much stronger position and had serious designs on Jerusalem. Having acquired the crown, Guy was about to face his greatest and most challenging test.

The Muslims Unify Under Saladin

Saladin, the first sultan of both Egypt and Syria, had spent much of Baldwin IV’s reign establishing and consolidating his position. He waged war not only against Baldwin IV but also against fellow Muslims in Syria. Saladin made significant conquests at the expense of his Muslim rivals, including the prominent cities of Damascus and Aleppo.

Saladin had the added advantage of being able to call upon reinforcements from Egypt for his Syrian campaigns. Egypt was immensely wealthy and the envy of the Christians.

Saladin claimed he had been sent by God and that his victories against the Crusaders and fellow Muslims were evidence of divine approval. He began uniting the Muslims in Syria under his leadership with the intention of removing the Franks from Jerusalem and the remaining Crusader States, including Antioch and Tripoli. He convinced his co-religionists that he could expel the Franks from Syria once and for all.

When the Crusaders embarked on the First Crusade (1096–1099), they faced a divided Islam. By 1187, Saladin had created a sense of unity among the Muslims in Syria and could now move against the new king of Jerusalem, unpopular among his own people and ruling over a divided kingdom.

The Road to Hattin

In early 1187, Reynald of Châtillon gave Saladin a perfect pretext for invading the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Reynald attacked a Muslim pilgrim caravan, breaking a fragile peace that had been established with Saladin.

Saladin sought revenge and vowed to kill Reynald for this insult. He entered the kingdom and sent raiding parties to ravage the lands around Frankish-held Acre. Gerard de Ridefort, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, went out with a small force to meet the invaders. The Battle of Cresson took place in May 1187 and saw the Templar force decimated by a numerically superior Muslim army. Only Gerard and a handful of knights survived.

In response, King Guy assembled the Frankish forces at the Springs of Sepphoris, demoralized by this recent disaster. The Muslim army then turned towards Tiberias to besiege the castle there, commanded by Eschiva, the wife of Raymond of Tripoli. Guy called an assembly and decided to march to relieve her, beginning the 26-kilometer march to Tiberias. Unbeknownst to Guy, the Crusader army had fallen into Saladin’s trap.

The Battle of Hattin, July 4, 1187

The march from the Springs of Sepphoris removed Guy’s army from an abundant water supply. Their march in the blistering summer sun was arduous and dry. As they made their way on July 3, it became clear they would not reach Tiberias by nightfall. The most important necessity for an army is water, and they had none.

It was decided to detour towards the Springs of Kafr Hattin, camp overnight, and march to Tiberias the following day. However, Saladin thwarted their plans. The Muslims blocked the route to the water source, and Guy’s dehydrated army was forced to camp near the village of Meskenah. Desperate for water, their Muslim foes taunted the Franks, pouring water onto the ground before their eyes and lighting fires to intensify their thirst.

On the morning of July 4, 1187, Guy drew up his battle lines. Pelted by arrows and smoke from burning fires, the Franks were weakened by thirst.

Raymond of Tripoli, no friend of Guy, led an unsuccessful charge early in the battle. Rather than returning to reform his lines, Raymond fled and headed for Tripoli.

Guy’s troops were massacred at the Battle of Hattin, and the king himself was captured. Had he been able to garner greater support from the nobles, including Raymond of Tripoli, the outcome may have been different. But Guy’s unpopularity meant he was unable to fully unify the nobles under his leadership.

The Fall of Jerusalem 1187

With most of its army destroyed at Hattin, the kingdom was defended by a small garrison. Saladin marched to Jerusalem and laid siege to the city. On October 2, 1187, he secured its surrender.

Balian of Ibelin led the defense and agreed to surrender the city only if Saladin allowed the inhabitants to ransom themselves. He threatened to destroy Islamic holy sites and kill Muslim hostages should the sultan refuse. The pragmatic sultan accepted Balian’s conditions.

Only around 18,000 Christian inhabitants were able to pay their ransom, many thanks to financial contributions from Balian and the Church. Approximately 15,000 Christians were taken into slavery.

Saladin was able to take advantage first of a minor king and then of an unpopular king on Jerusalem’s throne. Guy had called for reinforcements before Hattin, but these failed to materialize. His unpopularity and inability to secure the nobles’ cooperation ultimately cost him his throne.

Baldwin IV’s death did not simply remove a king; it removed the authority that had held a fragile kingdom together. Under his rule, rival factions were restrained, and Saladin’s advances checked. Without him, the unity fractured. Guy of Lusignan proved unable to command the loyalty of the nobles or unite them under his leadership, while Saladin had forged a powerful and unified Muslim force in Syria. When Jerusalem fell in 1187, it was the result not only of external strength but of internal division and failed leadership.

In the comfort of the royal palace, Prince Baldwin played an innocent, boyish game with his peers. This incident would reveal something that would change the course not only of the prince’s life, but also that of his kingdom. A leper king from a young age, Baldwin IV’s story is a remarkable chapter in the history of the Jerusalemite dynasty. Unrivaled in his courageous attempts to protect his kingdom, Baldwin’s throne would pass to lesser men, but his legacy and his example endured throughout the centuries.

A Childhood Game Reveals Tragedy

While Baldwin was a young prince, his tutor William of Tyre discovered something that would shake the Jerusalemite dynasty to its core. William relates that Baldwin:

“was playing one day with his companions of noble rank, when they began, as playful boys often do, to pinch each other’s arms and hands with their nails. The other boys gave evidence of pain by their outcries, but Baldwin, although his comrades did not spare him, endured it altogether too patiently, as if he felt nothing. After this had occurred several times, it was reported to me. At first I supposed that it proceeded from his capacity for endurance and not from lack of sensitiveness. But when I called him and began to inquire what it meant, I discovered that his right arm and hand were partially numb, so that he did not feel pinching or even biting in the least.”

William suggests that at first, he assumed Baldwin’s strength and stamina were the cause of his unusual ability to endure the pinching from his peers. Yet upon further investigation, Baldwin’s numbness became a cause for grave concern.

William of Tyre

William, later Archbishop of Tyre, was born in Jerusalem around the year 1130. Most of what we know about him comes from his chronicle known as The Historia, in which he includes few details about himself. Probably born to Frankish parents, William’s intellectual talents were recognized early, and he was sent to Western Europe to study in preparation for a career in the Church. He returned to the Holy Land in 1165.

King Amalric soon recognized William’s abilities, and in 1167, appointed him Archdeacon and later Archbishop of Tyre. After the two men discovered they shared a love of history, the king asked William to compile a history of the Jerusalemite dynasty. In 1170, in a further mark of trust, Amalric appointed William as tutor to his young son, Prince Baldwin. William undertook this task with care and diligence and took great delight in his new pupil.

For the next four years, William remained constantly in the prince’s company. This exalted position also gave him regular access to the king and members of the royal court. His presence there provided valuable opportunities to gather information and testimony for the chronicle he was composing.

Tutor to Prince Baldwin

Baldwin proved to be an astute student who demonstrated a keen intellect. William instructed him in reading and writing, as well as in the liberal arts. He discovered that, like his father, Baldwin shared a love of history and enjoyed listening to historical tales, no doubt recounted to him by William as he compiled his chronicle.

William’s task would also have been to prepare Baldwin for his future role as king. This preparation involved developing essential skills, including ensuring he acquired a working knowledge of legal matters. Significantly, Baldwin’s education also included cultivating the social skills necessary for kingship, enabling him to converse easily with his nobles and subjects of all ranks.

It was in this intimate role as tutor that William made his devastating discovery.

A Grim Diagnosis

William informed the king of Baldwin’s numbness, and physicians were consulted. He continues:

“Repeated fomentations, oil rubs, and even poisonous remedies were employed without result in the attempt to help him. For, as we recognized in process of time, these were the premonitory symptoms of a most serious and incurable disease which later became plainly apparent… For, as he began to reach years of maturity, it was evident that he was suffering from the terrible disease of leprosy.”

William’s account indicates that a formal diagnosis was not made until Baldwin “began to reach years of maturity.” This suggests that Baldwin suffered from lepromatous leprosy, the most severe form of the disease, which typically becomes fully apparent during adolescence. It would appear, therefore, that Baldwin was only definitively diagnosed with leprosy after his father’s death in 1174, when he became king aged 13.

William’s close relationship with Baldwin is revealed in his emotional response to the diagnosis: “It is impossible to refrain from tears while speaking of this great misfortune.” William grieved not only for the suffering of his pupil but also for the future of the kingdom. This moment was monumental. It shaped the fate not only of the Jerusalemite dynasty but of Jerusalem itself. Baldwin’s short life meant he was unlikely to emulate the accomplishments of many of his predecessors. Most significantly, he would not marry or produce children to succeed him. William likely feared that the throne would eventually pass to less capable hands, unworthy of the kingship.

Medieval Attitudes Towards Leprosy

In the medieval West, leprosy was considered highly contagious. For this reason, sufferers were often shunned. They were deemed unclean, and the disease from which they suffered was regarded as a physical manifestation of moral corruption. It was perceived as a punishment from God. Lepers were considered sinners and depraved individuals, and they were frequently banished from society lest they contaminate others with their incurable condition.

In the East, however, leprosy was better understood and not considered as highly contagious as in the West, a view closer to modern medical understanding. Flight from or shunning of the leper was not advocated in the same way. Indeed, a military order in the Holy Land, the Order of St Lazarus, was composed mostly of lepers.

Despite these differing attitudes, leprosy remained incompatible with kingship.

Baldwin IV, Leprosy and Kingship

We might ask how Baldwin contracted leprosy. Certainly, those around him were not recorded as lepers. If there had been any known sufferers within the royal household, they would surely have been kept away from the court.

Only a small percentage of the population is susceptible to leprosy. The disease spreads only to those who are vulnerable and typically requires prolonged, close contact with an infected individual. It is therefore likely that someone in close proximity to the young prince passed the disease on to him. This was probably his wet nurse or another individual responsible for his personal care during childhood.

Medieval kings were duty-bound to marry and produce heirs to continue the dynasty. Because leprosy was widely believed to be highly contagious, marriage was unlikely to have been seriously considered for Baldwin once his diagnosis became clear. Instead, the continuation of the dynasty would depend upon his elder sister, Sibylla.

There were also physical limitations to consider. Baldwin’s particular form of leprosy would render him increasingly disabled throughout his short adult life. Yet he was determined to rule and refused to allow his debilitating illness to prevent him from exercising effective kingship in Jerusalem.

As leprosy rendered Baldwin’s right arm useless, a riding tutor was appointed to teach him how to control a horse using only his knees. This adaptation allowed his left arm to remain free to wield a sword.

Baldwin the Warrior

Baldwin’s horsemanship enabled him to lead his troops into battle, and he did so from a remarkably young age. At 14 and 15, he participated in several raids against Damascus. In 1177, he led his forces to victory against Saladin at the Battle of Montgisard. Baldwin was only 16 years old at the time, yet he commanded a small force and defeated a numerically superior Muslim army. This extraordinary triumph secured his reputation as a formidable military king.

His courage was again evident in 1182, when he mustered an army to confront Saladin during an invasion of the kingdom. The following year, he led a force to relieve Christians besieged by Saladin at Kerak.

Baldwin demonstrated that illness did not equate to weakness. Despite his condition, he proved himself a worthy successor to his forefathers, the heroic leaders of the First Crusade.

The Leper King’s Body

Leprosy placed an enormous burden on Baldwin’s body. Ulcers would have caused severe pain in his arms and legs, and these wounds were prone to infection. The continual cleaning and dressing of them must have been agonizing for an already fragile body.

Leprosy attacks the extremities, and Baldwin’s nose, fingers, and toes would eventually have been destroyed by the disease. William of Tyre records that from 1182, “his sight failed and his extremities became completely deadened so that his hands and feet refused to perform their office.”

Although blind and with hands and feet that no longer functioned properly, Baldwin refused to retire. When he could no longer ride, he was carried in a litter, still appearing at the head of his forces. When important dignitaries arrived in the kingdom, Baldwin refused to receive them from his sickbed. During one severe episode of illness, he traveled in a litter from the relative comfort of Ascalon to Jerusalem to meet Count Philip of Flanders.

Baldwin’s endurance earned him widespread loyalty. There is no evidence to suggest that his subjects, or indeed others in the East, questioned his legitimacy as king. William writes: “The extremities and the face were especially attacked, so that his faithful followers were moved with compassion when they looked at him.” His face was likely disfigured from an early stage of the disease, yet despite his altered appearance and growing physical limitations, Baldwin retained his crown until his death in 1185.

Baldwin’s Legacy

William of Tyre’s emotional account of discovering Baldwin IV’s leprosy offers a rare glimpse into an intimate historical moment, one that would change the fortunes of Jerusalem and the Crusader States. Baldwin’s illness marked the beginning of the end for the kingdom, as his declining health contributed to internal division and a succession crisis following his death.

After Baldwin’s passing, the kingdom eventually fell into the hands of a less capable successor, Guy of Lusignan, whose military decisions culminated in disaster at the Battle of Hattin in 1187 and the subsequent fall of Jerusalem.

Baldwin, the Leper King who defied a death sentence for over a decade, eventually succumbed to his illness and died in 1185 at the age of 24, yet his legacy has endured for centuries. Burdened by extreme pain and physical deterioration, he nevertheless achieved remarkable feats within his short lifetime and is remembered as one of the most extraordinary rulers of the Middle Ages.

Manila was considered one of the most cosmopolitan cities in Asia before the Second World War. In 1945, after several years of Japanese occupation, Manila suffered a terrible fate when it was faced with a combination of Japanese cruelty and American firepower. By the time the Americans and their Filipino allies gained control of the city, it was completely devastated and would take years to rebuild. The battle was one of the most devastating instances of urban warfare during WWII.

Manila Under Japanese Occupation

One day after Japanese aircraft bombed Pearl Harbor, the Japanese began launching air raids over major sites throughout the Philippines. Tokyo aimed to conquer the Philippines, set up a puppet regime, and seize control of natural resources throughout the islands. This was part of Japan’s plan to create the so-called “Greater East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere,” a euphemism for its Asian empire. After landing tens of thousands of men across the archipelago, Japanese forces seized Manila on January 2, 1942. They subsequently defeated the rest of the Allied garrisons on the islands within a couple of months.

Japan’s military administration of the Philippines was headquartered in Manila, making it the center of power for Japan in the Philippines. For the rest of the war, Japan garrisoned Manila with a mixture of army and navy units to keep order. Members of the Kempetai, Japan’s secret police, worked with local collaborators to hunt down anyone deemed a threat to the Japanese. Citizens of Allied countries were locked up in prisons or internment camps like Santo Tomas, along with American POWs captured during the initial seizure of the islands. Even though Japan granted the Philippines “independence,” it maintained control and employed vicious methods of repression.

Filipinos were used to fighting outside occupiers; they had spent years fighting against Spanish and American imperialism. Now, they sought to work with Americans who escaped the fall of Bataan to fight Japan from the shadows. In addition to spy rings in the city, a group of guerrilla fighters called Hunters ROTC operated near the city and attacked Japanese targets. They waited patiently for the US military to return.

American Landing on Luzon and Advance to Manila

When General Douglas MacArthur arrived in Australia in 1942 after fleeing the Philippines, he vowed that he would return at the head of an army to liberate the islands. In 1944, he landed on Leyte with the US Sixth Army. Once Japan was defeated there and on Mindoro island, MacArthur’s command, called Southwest Pacific Area Command (SWPA), prepared for the invasion of Luzon. General Walter Krueger’s Sixth Army, initially consisting of the I Corps (6th and 43rd Infantry Divisions) and the XIV Corps (37th and 40th Infantry Divisions), was assigned to land on a stretch of beaches on the Lingayen Gulf in northern Luzon. Afterwards, they would strike south and east to defeat Japanese forces. One of the priority objectives for the Sixth Army was retaking Manila.

On January 9, 1945, the Sixth Army landed at the Lingayen Gulf and proceeded to move inland. Japanese General Tomoyuki Yamashita, commander of the 14th Area Army, had three groups of troops defending the whole island: the Shobu, Shimbu, and Kembo groups. He sought to concentrate his forces in the north of the island and ordered his men to fight a delaying action. Under pressure from American forces and Filipino guerillas, Japanese infantry and armored units withdrew to the center of the island.

General Oscar Griswold’s XIV Corps pushed south from the beaches towards Clark Field, the largest airfield in the Philippines. By the end of the month, they seized it from the Kembo group and advanced to the northern outskirts of the city to link up with American forces that had landed south of Manila.

Japanese Defenses and the Start of the Battle

General Yamashita became concerned that Japanese forces in the Manila area would be cut off by the American advance. When paratroopers of the 11th Airborne Division landed south of Manila, Yamashita ordered the Shimbu Group commander, General Shizuo Yokoyama, to destroy infrastructure and weapons dumps in the city and retreat east. Yokoyama complied, but Rear Admiral Sanji Iwabuchi announced he would remain in the city with over 16,000 sailors and marines to defend the city. Three army engineer battalions remained in the city and joined preparations to defend it.

Admiral Iwabuchi’s Manila Naval Defense Force had eight army and navy battalions in the city and its outskirts. Much of the garrison consisted of crews of sunken ships and did not have training for an urban battle. They did have large stockpiles of weapons and engineering equipment. Multiple lines of defense were dug north and south of the city and buildings were turned into fortresses. Iwabuchi hoped to make the battle as costly as possible for the Americans.

From the north, the 37th Infantry and newly arrived 1st Cavalry Division pushed south on MacArthur’s personal orders. General Joseph Swing’s 11th Airborne Division transferred from the Eighth Army and joined the Sixth Army’s advance. They began to break through the southern Japanese defenses. Griswold’s forces pushed south and liberated the Bilibid and Santo Tomas prison camps by early February. They were joined by Filipino guerilla units including Hunter’s ROTC. By this point, three American divisions with nearly 40,000 men surrounded the city. Iwabuchi’s garrison was cut off.

Crossing the Pasig River and Capturing Nichols Field

General Griswold’s GIs found themselves facing tougher resistance as they continued deeper into the city. Despite having successfully liberated two prison camps, the Americans still had a long way to go. Japanese defenses north of the Pasig River were meant to be a trip wire but were formidable nonetheless. When American forces secured the north bank by February 6, MacArthur declared total victory prematurely. The 37th Infantry and 1st Cavalry Divisions still had to enter the main areas of the city.

When troops of the 148th and 129th Infantry Regiments attempted to cross the Pasig in small boats, they found themselves under heavy fire from Japanese sailors on Provisor Island. Within a couple of days, they managed to seize the island and create a foothold on the south bank, but resistance was fierce. Admiral Iwabuchi had concentrated elements of five battalions south of the river and Japanese fortifications were strong. The 37th Division pushed slowly southward while the 1st Cavalry Division carried out an envelopment maneuver around the city to meet the paratroopers from the south.

The 11th Airborne Division was not tasked with entering Manila proper. Instead, it was ordered to drive the garrison out of Nichols Field. The 187th and 188th Glider Infantry Regiments advanced along the runways and overran the dug-in defenders. The Japanese had so many naval guns at the airfield that one company commander radioed to his superiors “Tell Halsey to stop looking for the Jap Fleet. It’s dug in on Nichols Field.” By February 12, the Airborne had secured the airfield.

Street Fighting and Clearing Intramuros

The area south of the river witnessed brutal house-to-house fighting. Japanese forces, surrounded without hope of relief, were determined to fight to the death. They set ambushes for advancing American troops and forced the Americans to turn to heavy firepower. MacArthur restricted the use of air power but consented to artillery and mortars being used in areas with a heavy Japanese presence. American forces destroyed every Japanese position they could with tanks, artillery, mortars, and flamethrowers. The fighting resembled battles in Europe such as Aachen and Berlin.

By February 17 and 18, General Griswold’s forces secured the Rizal Baseball Stadium and the Philippine General Hospital, both of which were major Japanese strongpoints. Reinforced by 1st Cavalry Division troopers, the 37th Infantry Division managed to keep the Japanese pinned in Manila’s old Walled City, known as the Intramuros district. Admiral Iwabuchi unsuccessfully attempted to break out of his encirclement on February 18, leaving 6,000 men trapped in the pocket.

On February 23, American artillery pounded Japanese positions in Intramuros. For the next three days, American troops moved into the district, battling Japanese on every corner. When it became clear that the Japanese were defeated, Admiral Iwabuchi and his subordinates committed suicide. American forces secured major government buildings, including MacArthur’s headquarters from before the war, and ended the battle on March 3 by capturing the rest of the district. For the rest of March, American troops and Filipino guerrillas patrolled the rubble for Japanese stragglers before turning north and east to finish off the rest of Yamashita’s forces.

The Manila Massacre

Amidst the heavy fighting between American/Filipino and Japanese forces, the civilian population of Manila paid a horrible price during the destruction of their city. Of all the Allied cities fought over in WWII, Manila was one of the most heavily damaged, on par with Warsaw. It is estimated that over 100,000 Manileros died during the battle, mostly due to Japanese actions but also due to American firepower. The scale of Japan’s atrocities in the city ranks among the worst war crimes committed by any party during WWII.

Japanese forces had long believed that Filipinos were overwhelmingly hostile to their presence and that they passed information to the Americans. This environment of distrust was compounded by Japanese racism towards non-Japanese. Throughout the battle, Japanese forces gangraped and murdered Filipino civilians in the areas they controlled. In Fort Santiago, Manila Cathedral, and other prominent locations in the city, civilians were gunned down, bayoneted, or beheaded by the Japanese. There is evidence that Japanese officers commanded their men to commit atrocities by claiming every Filipino in the battle zone was a guerilla. For these atrocities, General Yamashita was sentenced to execution by hanging by an American military court after the war.

While American forces did not commit atrocities like these, their firepower devastated entire neighborhoods and killed thousands of civilians in the process. Despite efforts by MacArthur to restrict American firepower, the formidable Japanese defenses meant that the use of heavy weapons was inevitable. As a result, Manila was one of the most destroyed cities on Earth and a textbook case of urbicide. The reconstruction of the city took several years, and while Manila is now a thriving and dynamic city, the legacy of its destruction remains apparent.

Throughout the Apartheid years, South Africa’s leaders believed that their system of white rule was under imminent threat from both internal and external enemies. Having seen the effectiveness of nuclear weapons in WWII, officials in Pretoria decided that a robust nuclear program was an effective deterrent. When it relinquished them in the 1990s, South Africa set a precedent for self-disarmament that gave people hope that the nuclear age could finally come to an end.

South Africa in the Cold War

From 1948 to 1994, South Africa was ruled by the National Party, an autocratic party devoted to the maintenance of White Rule in South Africa. It authorized the total segregation of society between White people and anyone else of Black, Asian, or mixed-race background. It also promoted a strongly anti-communist ideology, arguing that racial equality was a communist plot to destroy the country. As a result, the security services brutally crushed resistance against the system, often accusing its critics of being Soviet stooges.

Initially, its policies were seen as a reflection of common practice in the African continent. When the National Party came into power and enshrined existing racist practices into law, it followed the practices of European colonies throughout the continent. However, the Cold War changed power dynamics in Africa. South Africa’s racial and security policies were seen as anachronistic and outrageous. Many revolutionary leftist factions, based inside and outside of the country, vowed to overthrow the National Party’s rule.

As South Africa began facing an increase in hostile threats, its leaders vowed to turn the state into a veritable fortress. South African prime ministers, from D.F. Malan to P.W. Botha, all sought to increase South Africa’s conventional and unconventional weapons capacity. The development of a nuclear arsenal was a part of South Africa’s deterrence efforts and one of the country’s closest-kept secrets. In doing so, South Africa became the only country in Africa to have created and allegedly tested a nuclear weapon.

The Creation of SAFARI-1

Prime Minister D.F. Malan, elected in 1948, had the twin objectives of modernizing South Africa while preserving White rule. South Africa is known for its rich mineral resources, including uranium. In 1948, his government and the Volksraad (the Apartheid-era parliament) passed the Atomic Energy Act to regulate the uranium industry in the country. The Atomic Energy Board was responsible for the country’s efforts to extract uranium and establish a civil nuclear program. It gained a boost when South Africa signed onto the American-led Atoms for Peace program.

Atoms for Peace was not meant to be a weapons program. Instead, it was meant to be an international information-sharing forum on nuclear research for civil purposes. Therefore, when South Africa signed the agreement, it did not arouse suspicions that the country aimed to develop nuclear weapons. It had already allowed the US and UK to buy a lot of its own uranium and its nuclear scientists had close ties to counterparts in the West. By joining Atoms for Peace, South Africa could gain American technology to create its own nuclear reactor.

In the late 1950s, South Africa joined the IAEA. In 1959, PM Verwoerd, a major supporter of South Africa’s nuclear program, approved the creation of a reactor at Pelindaba. A.J.A. Roux, a senior official in the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research, was in charge of the program. American engineers helped create the reactor, known as SAFARI-1. By 1965, South Africa had its first nuclear reactor, a pivotal step in the creation of an atomic weapons program.

From Civil Nuclear Power to Nuclear Weapons

In addition to South Africa receiving American backing in building SAFARI-1, the United States also sent nearly 100 kilograms of weapons-grade uranium fuel. Before the country began to become isolated, South African officials believed that they had a lot of support from the West and could afford to build a plutonium reactor called SAFARI-2. Scientists hoped to enrich plutonium and heavy water to generate nuclear power but the project was abandoned after a few years.

By the 1970s, South Africa was facing the attention of major Communist powers that supported revolutionary factions such as the African National Congress and the South West Africa People’s Organisation (SWAPO) in Namibia. Western countries were also starting to distance themselves from Pretoria. The country’s security deteriorated as a result of the Angolan Civil War and the Soweto Uprising. According to F.W. de Klerk, the RSA began to develop weapons based on a gun-type ignition in 1973. They tested explosives for the bomb at Somerset West near Cape Town. To carry a uranium warhead, South Africa is alleged to have asked Israel in 1975 for Jericho missiles. While Israel did not provide missiles, it did assist South Africa in preparing for a test and offered nuclear expertise for research and development purposes.

While the RSA did have ample uranium enrichment capability, it lacked the ability to carry a warhead. The South African Air Force began testing some of its Buccaneer bombers to carry and drop nuclear weapons in a war. Armscor, the main South African weapons manufacturer, also created missiles based on Jericho’s design called the RSA missile. Therefore, bomber aircraft became the main delivery method.

Uncovering the Kalahari Test Site and the Vela Incident

South Africa needed to test its nuclear capabilities without attracting too much international scrutiny. The gun-type ignition tests at Somerset West had attracted some attention, but it was unclear if Pretoria wanted to test a full nuclear weapon. Near Pelindaba, engineers constructed an underground test site to make sure the weapon would work. Despite efforts at maintaining secrecy, the USSR found out about the site thanks to one of their spies, Commander Dieter Gerhardt of the South African Navy.

In 1977, Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev wrote to US President Jimmy Carter and warned him that the Soviets had detected a South African nuclear test site. The CIA confirmed the claims and Washington officials became very paranoid that South Africa wanted to become a major nuclear power. President Carter began to coordinate a group of Western countries to demand Pretoria cease any nuclear weapons production and testing. Part of the reason America backed the UNSC arms embargo on South Africa was to forestall its nuclear program.

In 1979, additional developments also concerned the United States. A satellite called VELA 6911 detected an explosion over the Indian Ocean near the South African coast. Officials panicked and assumed that someone was blowing up a low-yield bomb in violation of the Limited Test Ban Treaty. Over time, members of Carter’s administration suspected it was an Israeli test. However, they also believed that South Africa and Israel coordinated together to test a new bomb. To this day, it is unknown exactly what VELA caught, but it is believed to have been a joint Israeli-RSA test.

South Africa’s Nuclear Weapons Policy

While South African leaders feared an invasion by communist forces from Angola or an internal revolt that would lead to the country’s collapse, there was very little evidence that the country was ever under an existential threat. Neither the Soviets, Cubans, or MPLA (the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola) ever intended to invade the country. Any revolts in the townships were purely an internal matter. Therefore, the question about why exactly South Africa wanted nukes puzzled observers who were aware of Pretoria’s nuclear program.

Based on what is known from some declassified documents and statements by South African officials, South Africa decided to create a small arsenal of six bombs purely for the purposes of diplomatic leverage. Unlike other major nuclear-armed states, South Africa was not engaged in a nuclear arms race. However, it wanted to ensure that the West and USSR knew that if the country felt threatened, it had a nuclear option. This policy of brinksmanship was particularly apparent during the Angola War, when South Africa wanted to show that it would not back down from controlling Namibia and backing the UNITA (National Union for the Total Independence of Angola) faction.

Similar to Israel, South Africa did not announce that it had a nuclear arsenal for most of the Cold War. Maintaining opacity was considered necessary to deter South Africa’s enemies and it did not want more international scrutiny. As the Apartheid years wound down, officials in Pretoria began to ask themselves what was the purpose of maintaining this arsenal and what its future was.

Dismantling South Africa’s Nukes

As part of his effort to reduce South Africa’s pariah status on the international stage, President F.W. de Klerk ordered South Africa to halt any enrichment of uranium for nuclear purposes. He also ordered the six available bombs to be dismantled. Up to this point, as much as $240 million had been spent on South Africa’s nuclear weapons program. The international sanctions regime was making it very difficult to get the necessary parts for weapons components and any expansions to the SAFARI-1 reactor. The writing was clearly on the wall regarding the nuclear weapons program.

President de Klerk recognized that the threat from Cuban and MPLA forces in Angola was receding. He also knew that South Africa could only be welcomed back into the rest of the world if it was transparent about its security measures. In 1991, the Republic of South Africa signed the Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). On March 24, 1993, de Klerk gave a speech before Parliament stating that South Africa had developed a nuclear weapons program and that it was dismantling them. He invited international observers to inspect the nuclear facilities. In the years following Nelson Mandela’s election, South Africa signed onto most nuclear nonproliferation statements and agreements.

South Africa’s nuclear weapons program was one of the most infamous aspects of the Apartheid system. Pretoria showed how far it was willing to go to preserve the system of segregation and White power. The RSA made major investments into WMDs when it was not faced with an existential threat. However, by being one of the few countries willing to voluntarily dismantle its nuclear weapons program, South Africa set a positive standard in the field of nuclear disarmament. It became a case study of how a country could shed its nuclear arsenal in the quest for peace and prosperity.