Salahuddin Ayyubi Episode 56 in Urdu Subtitles

Long before he became known across three continents, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn was born in the rugged hills of Tikrit in 1137 CE. His father, Najm al-Dīn Ayyūb, was an officer in the Seljuk army, and his family traced its roots to Kurdish tribes renowned for their martial skill and strong sense of honor. As a child, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn—named Yūsuf by birth—watched his older brothers practice swordplay and archery. He himself learned humility and generosity from his mother, Sitt al-Malā’, who taught him to tend wounded animals and share his bread with strangers.

By the time he reached adolescence, Yūsuf had already developed two traits that would shine through his entire life: a keen mind that absorbed lessons quickly, and a gentle heart that refused to turn away from suffering. He studied under the best teachers in Mosul, mastering Arabic grammar, Islamic jurisprudence, and the art of leadership. But most of all, he absorbed stories of the Prophet Muhammad and his companions—of courage, mercy, and self-sacrifice.

Rising Through the Ranks

In his early twenties, Yūsuf joined the court of his uncle, Shirkuh, who served the powerful Muslim ruler Nur al-Dīn in Damascus. Shirkuh led an army into Egypt to wrest control from the Fatimid caliphate and to push back against Crusader influence. Young Yūsuf accompanied him as a squire and adviser. Within the dizzying swirl of politics and war, he showed a natural talent for diplomacy: he mediated disputes among competing generals, arranged supplies for the troops, and even negotiated with local tribal leaders.

When Shirkuh died in 1169, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn—no longer “young Yusuf” but already known by his laqab, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn (meaning “Righteousness of the Faith”)—was chosen to succeed him as vizier of Egypt. At the age of just thirty-two, he stood on the threshold of supreme power. Not content to simply hold office, he embarked on reforms: he restructured the army, improved the caliphal treasury, and consolidated various provinces under firm, central control.

Founding the Ayyubid State

Over the next decade, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn carefully turned Egypt from a Fatimid backwater into the base for a new Muslim dynasty. He built schools, mosques, and hospices. He welcomed scholars of every faith—Muslims, Christians, and Jews—and protected them under his rule. Yet, he never lost sight of his ultimate goal: to unite the fractured Muslim lands and to repel the Crusaders who threatened Jerusalem and the Levant.

By 1174, with the death of his mentor Nur al-Dīn, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn moved swiftly to bring Syria under his leadership. Through a combination of marriage ties, alliances with local emirs, and judicious military pressure, he assembled an empire stretching from southern Anatolia to the Arabian Desert. Historians estimate that by the late 1170s, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn commanded some sixty thousand horsemen and foot soldiers, making him the most powerful ruler in the eastern Mediterranean.

The Battle for Jerusalem

Jerusalem lay at the heart of Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn’s ambition. For nearly a century, Crusader knights had held the “Holy City,” controlling its churches and limiting Muslim access to the Haram al-Sharīf. On the morning of October 4, 1187, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn led his forces against a Crusader army under King Guy of Lusignan near the Horns of Hattin, a pair of hills in Galilee.

The midday sun beat down as Muslim archers rained volleys upon the disorganized Crusader infantry. Scouts cut off the Crusaders’ water supply, leaving them thirsty and demoralized. When the two armies finally clashed, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn personally rode among his troops, encouraging them and distributing water from his own canteen. By the time the battle ended, the Crusader force was shattered: thousands were killed, and most of the survivors—including King Guy—were taken prisoner.

Two months later, on November 2, 1187, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn’s army reached the walls of Jerusalem. The Crusader garrison, cut off and hopeless, negotiated terms rather than face another bloody siege. Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn offered generous conditions: Christian residents could buy their freedom, clergy were allowed to keep their crosses and Bibles, and hospitals would continue to serve the sick without interference. On the day the keys were handed over, Muslim, Christian, and Jewish pilgrims wept together in gratitude. Jerusalem was restored to Muslim rule for the first time in eighty-eight years.

Chivalry and Mercy

News of Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn’s conquest spread quickly. Even his enemies praised his conduct. The Crusaders’ chroniclers spoke of his “noble spirit” and “magnanimous heart.” According to some accounts, when he learned that a Christian knight named Renaud of Châtillon had murdered Muslim pilgrims on the Red Sea coast, Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn refused to execute him, preferring ransom and imprisonment. He believed that force won battles, but mercy won hearts.

In the following years, the Third Crusade was launched to recapture Jerusalem. Kings Richard the Lionheart of England and Philip II of France led vast armies into the Levant, but they never managed to take the city itself. Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn met Richard in pitched battles at Acre and Arsuf, sometimes defeating him, sometimes drawing even. Yet, in their private councils, the two men held mutual respect: Richard called Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn “a worthy enemy,” and Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn admired Richard’s courage.

A Lasting Legacy

Saladin died on March 4, 1193, in Damascus, at the age of fifty-six. His final acts were as characteristic as his life: he ordered that his few remaining possessions be sold and the proceeds given to the poor. He requested a simple burial without pomp, in a tomb he had himself prepared in the garden of the Umayyad Mosque.

By the time of his death, the Ayyubid state he had built began to fracture among his sons and nephews. Yet the memory of Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn endured far beyond the political maps of the Middle Ages. In Islamic tradition, he became the hero par excellence—the man who embodied both the sword and the scales of God’s justice. In European tales, he inspired ballads of knighthood and courtly honor. To this day, Muslims, Christians, and Jews look back on his reign as a rare moment when faith and mercy met on the battlefield.

Reflections on His Character

What made Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn remarkable was not only his military genius, but the virtues he practiced daily. He rose from a modest background to become Sultan, yet he retained the simplicity of his youth. He prayed late into the night, fasted even when the fortunes of war strained him, and listened patiently to the counsel of scholars and commoners alike. His armies marched behind a banner inscribed with a single Qur’anic verse: “And Allah is the Best of Planners” (Qur’an 3:54). He believed that no victory was certain, no defeat final—only God determined the outcome.

In our age of shifting alliances and bitter conflicts, the life of Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn Ayyūbī reminds us that strength and mercy need not be rivals. He showed that to govern wisely, one must master both the art of war and the art of compassion. His story endures not simply because he captured Jerusalem, but because in doing so he captured the admiration—and the forgiveness—of friend and foe alike.