This important collection of essays addresses a fundamental question: was Catharism in twelfth-century southern France a structured hierarchical Church, advocating dualist beliefs, or was the supposed dualistic Cathar Church no more than an invention of medieval intellectuals and inquisitors, who were followed by modern historians? The supporters of the first thesis are referred to in this thought-provoking volume as the ‘traditionalists', while those upholding the second view are referred to as the ‘sceptics’ or ‘revisionists’.

Not all articles directly address this question. However, they all contain a wealth of information that might be used to support either of the above hypotheses. Let us begin with two of these illuminating essays. Bernard Hamilton discusses the twelfth-century links between the Cathars and the Bogomils (pp. 131–50). His evidence includes the letter of Eberwin, abbot of the Premonstratensians house of Steinfield; the recorded Cathar presence in Italy in 1173; the 1167 documents of the St Felix Council (which he considers authentic); as well as Old Slavonic or Greek texts that, transmitted to the Cathars of southern France, were translated into Latin. As there is no doubt of Bogomil dualism, the connections between them and the Cathars would strengthen the case for the latter's dualistic worldview in twelfth-century southern France.

Julien Théry-Astruc belongs to the sceptic camp. In his ‘The heretical dissidence of the “good men” in the Albigeois, 1227–1329: localism and resistance to Roman clericalism’ (pp. 79–111), he argues that, rather than being imported from Byzantium, heresy was the result of protest against the Gregorian reform, and the subsequent criminalisation of all opposition by the Church. While the morals of the clergy left a lot to be desired, the dissidence should be interpreted in terms of a general confrontation between the Church (which had reached the peak of its power) and the secular forces of the region. (An important issue in this confrontation was the temporal lordship of the bishops.) Théry-Astruc suggests that it was the Catholic Church that created the image of heresy as a subversive counter-Church. His arguments are based primarily on his interpretation of inquisitorial records.

Other contributors to this important volume might be similarly categorised either as ‘traditionalists’ or as ‘sceptics’. (John H. Arnold for example would be a ‘moderate sceptic’, whereas Jörg Feuchter, who marshals hitherto neglected sources, might be considered a ‘traditionalist’.)

Let us turn to the ‘extreme revisionist’ Mark Gregory Pegg, the less pronounced ‘revisionist’ Robert I. Moore, and the ‘traditionalist’ Peter Biller. As Pegg sees it, Catharism neither existed in the twelfth century nor at any other period, except as an enduring invention of nineteenth-century scholars and historians. He acknowledges that ‘Good Men’ and ‘Good Women’ did exist, but he considers them as post-Gregorian Reform Christians rather than Cathar Perfects. As for the rituals that these ‘Good Men and ‘Good Women’ conducted, Pegg applies to them a novel interpretation of his own. Thus, he argues that the melioramentum was not an adoration of the Perfects, but rather a cortezia (courtesy) toward devout, honoured and – most commonly – elderly men and women of the community. These men and women gained the support of the somewhat impoverished minor nobility. Pegg does not hesitate to consider some documents as forgeries (providing no proof thereof), and he rejects all evidence of links between the Bogomils and the Cathars. He further discredits all evidence of a supposed hierarchical Cathar organisation. Most historians would likely agree that inquisitors and deponents alike distorted in some measure the Cathar experience. However, Pegg goes much further, arguing that the entire edifice of the Cathar movement was invented by the inquisition.

Unlike Pegg, Robert Moore acknowledges the existence of a Cathar movement in the second half of thirteenth-century Italy and southern France. However, he doubts whether such a movement figured as early as the twelfth century. Moore argues that all evidence of twelfth-century Catharism dates from the thirteenth century, and hence ought to be questioned. As for Eberwin's twelfth-century letter, Moore rejects it as insufficient evidence. In his judgement, the ‘apostles of Satan’ that are mentioned in the letter are not – as previously thought – organised dualistic heretics. Albeit less bold than Pegg, Moore (who does accept thirteenth-century Catharism) holds that ‘there is no evidence of organized dualism before the Albigensian Crusade’.

Peter Biller's essay offers solid and astute criticism of the Pegg and Moore theses alike. Biller opens with an illuminating and comprehensive discussion of the terms ‘Good Men’ and ‘Good Women’. He shows that they carried more than one meaning, and he argues convincingly that – at least in certain contexts – they denoted people who had received the Cathar consolamentum. Biller accepts Hamilton's evidence of links between the Cathars and the Bogomils and, contrary to Moore, he shows that the region of Toulouse was given over to dualistic heresy as early as the twelfth century. He quotes the 1177 letter of Raymond v, count of Toulouse, to the Cisterian General Chapter, complaining of the spread of heresy. The letter features unequivocal reference to dualism: ‘and also – even to say it is impious! – two principles are introduced’. Furthermore, Biller cites the chronicler Robert of Howden regarding the papal mission of 1178 to southern France. Headed by the papal legate and the abbot of Clairvaux, and supported by Henry ii of England and Louis vii of France, the mission questioned locals about their beliefs. It denounced two local men as believers in two gods. (Moore doubts the authenticity of Raymond's letter, and he further suspects that the count of Toulouse used heresy as a pretext to obtain the support of the English and French kings. As for the spectre of dualism that emerged in the 1178 mission, Moore believes that it was engendered by the papal legate himself.)

As Biller points out, the Pegg and Moore essays suffer not only from wrong interpretations and unproven attributions of forgery, but also from an outright neglect of relevant sources. They ignore, for example, the evidence of Alan de Lille's contact with Languedoc (which likely furnished him with first-hand evidence of local dualistic tendencies). They similarly fail to mention the twelfth-century debates between Catholics, Waldensians and Cathars (Lambers 1165; Toulouse 1178; Narbonne around 1190).

This reviewer fully accepts Biller's view. I believe that there is sufficient and solid evidence to indicate that, as early as the twelfth century, the dualistic faith existed in southern France. It was not projected onto local people by Cistercian monks or Paris theologians. Rather it was their lived experience. Biller's article should bring an end to the debate. We need to move on to new questions.