Part 5

The Koreish, however, had not yet finished with him, and, as they redoubled their assaults, he met them in various ways. When one of them affirmed that the Prophet was a crazy man--“One taught by others, a Madman!”--under the influence of the dreadful Jinn, he retaliated by accusing his accuser of being a bastard who could not write, who was head over heels in debt, and who furthermore deserved a thump on the nose. When they worsted him in debate, he first lost his temper and then announced that he had been divinely commanded not to argue with unbelievers--for often, as Mohammed preached to his followers or fulminated against his antagonists, his cheeks would blaze and his voice would become shrill, and on one occasion he is said to have thrown dust on the heads of his opponents. When another Koreishite accepted the Prophet’s rash challenge to a poetic duel to test the excellence of the Koran, Mohammed could do nothing but squirm in discomfiture; but he amply avenged himself, after the battle of Bedr, by ordering the summary execution of the despicable poet. When they pointed out the many errors of fact that appeared in the Koran, and sneered at his assertion that the revelation was “in pure Arabic,” Mohammed at first replied that Allah must know best--“He hath revealed it who knoweth that which is hidden in heaven and in earth: He is forgiving and merciful”--but, when he was informed that his answer, though doubtless inspired, was hardly to the point, he attempted to dazzle everybody by producing a new Sura that nobody, not even himself, could comprehend. For Mohammed invariably trusted in Suras rather than syllogisms, and wisely quoted no authority save Allah.

If, however, he was safe from direct assault, the more humble of his auxiliaries--the slaves, strangers and lower classes--who lacked the protection of family ties, were not so fortunate. They were apprehended, beaten and jailed, or exposed to the terrific heat of the sun. Under torments of this sort, some of them naturally recanted--a contingency that necessitated swift measures on the part of Allah. Mohammed, sincerely moved by their sufferings, announced that, even though they dissembled to escape torture, Allah was nevertheless All-Merciful and Forgiving if their hearts were right; and a Sura forthwith appeared that poured divine wrath on every backslider, “excepting him who is forcibly compelled thereto, his heart remaining steadfast in the faith.” One day the Prophet met an adherent who was weeping from the anguish of his wounds, and asked what the trouble was. “Evil, O Prophet! They would not let me go until I had abused thee, and spoken well of their gods.” “But how dost thou find thine own heart?” “Secure and steadfast in the faith.” “Then if they repeat their cruelty, repeat thou also thy words,” advised Mohammed. Yet, in spite of this heavenly leniency, incessant persecution continued to diminish his little band, and he therefore counselled those who were defenseless to take refuge in Abyssinia. Some of them did so, but still the odious oppression continued.

The Prophet, in this desperate strait, seems to have resolved upon a desperate remedy. It is at all events true that, scarcely three months after the departure of the little company of refugees, he tried to effect a compromise with his implacable foes. Approaching a group of the Koreish in Mecca one day, he reeled off a Sura which contained the flattering information that some of their gods, and particularly their goddesses, were not so bad after all. Having enumerated several of them, he intoned this passage:

“These are exalted Females, Whose intercession verily is to be sought after.”

At the end of this strange encounter, Mohammed and his hearers promptly prostrated themselves and worshiped their individually pampered deities in a spirit of beautiful brotherhood.

This event probably marks the decadence of the mystic and the inception of the statesmanlike elements in Mohammed’s character; but it was destined to bear bitter fruit. Had his co-workers possessed his aptitude for mental prestidigitation, all might have gone well; but, like others of his profession, Mohammed had stirred up a bigger hornets’ nest than he realized. It appears that many Moslems, including even those who had been bribed into accepting Islam, actually believed that the Prophet had meant what he said about Allah, and himself, and Islam in general. Whatever it was that had inspired his retrograde action, Mohammed turned right-about-face in double-quick time; for another Sura followed posthaste, which declared that the Prophet, being very human, was sometimes deceived by the poisonous whisperings of the devil. It was furthermore stated that Allah, the Omnipotent, naturally possessed the power to erase or substitute sections of the Koran as he desired: “And when We change one verse in place of another (and God best knoweth that which He revealeth) they say, ‘Verily thou plainly art a fabricator.’ Nay! but the most of them understand not. Say, the Holy Spirit hath brought it down from thy Lord in truth, to stablish them that believe.” Nevertheless, the clever device came to naught, for the Prophet’s overplay of his hand led to two unfortunate results: the Koreish, more assured than ever that he was a slippery liar, redoubled their assaults on his devotees; and Mohammed himself was regarded with suspicious doubt by some of his most whole-hearted adherents.

Events followed thick and fast. The Prophet, disturbed and alarmed, advised another emigration to Abyssinia--a recommendation that swelled the rising fury of his enemies. For the Abyssinians, in years past, had invaded Arabia under Abraha, and what was more likely than that Mohammed was sending envoys to negotiate a _rapprochement_ with their chiefs--a contingency that might foretell a second invasion to assist the Prophet and overthrow the Koreish? Impelled by such vague fears, they instituted a device far more effective than direct attack. Mohammed’s biographers are not agreed upon the precise time when these events took place; but it seems probable that, shortly after the second emigration to Abyssinia (615-616), the Koreish issued a decree of excommunication against the family of Hashim--which meant practically all of Islam. Its descendants were banned from intermarriage or other business engagements with the Meccans; in brief, the Pagan bull specified that “dealings of every kind should cease.” The effect was swift and inevitable--the relatively weak Hashimites were compelled to withdraw their forces from Mecca and retire to a secluded defile east of the city. And here for an indeterminate period running from several months to several years, the outlaws--probably about one hundred in number--lived as best they could by buying scanty provisions at fabulous prices from passing caravans. Mohammed’s highly praiseworthy behavior under these desperate conditions restored, and indeed strengthened, the faith of the suffering Hashimites; it is even possible that, without this savage persecution, Islam might soon have died out and been forgotten in its infancy. For some of the better-class Moslems had heretofore been showing dangerous tendencies: they refused longer to kiss the Black Stone; they showed flagrant disrespect toward their unconverted relatives; they used obscene language; they even prayed to Allah while they were drunk; and--encouraged, alas! by the Prophet himself--they coveted the wives and possessions of the unbelievers. But this frightful ordeal cleansed their hearts of such wickednesses. The “blood of the martyrs” was, in all probability, the seed of Islam’s glorious harvest.

And Mohammed himself was stirred to make even greater efforts than ever. With the cries of starving children ringing in his ears, he would go forth, during the holy months when amnesty prevailed, to exhort the tribes that came to the fairs held at Ukaz and other places. “Ye people!” he would shout, “Say, there is no God but the Lord. Ye will be benefited thereby. Ye will gain the rule of Arabia and of foreign lands, and when ye die ye will reign as kings in Paradise.” While he was thus engaged, his uncle, Abu Lahab (who had probably avoided the ban by forswearing his kinship to the tribe of Hashim), would tag after him, crying out, “Believe him not, he is a lying renegade!” On another occasion Abu Lahab yelled: “Blast the fellow! Is that all that he hath called us for together?” Mohammed was moved to such fury by this remark that he devoted one of the many imprecations of the Koran to his foul-mouthed, profligate uncle and his equally impenitent spouse.

“Blasted be the hands of Abu Lahab; let himself perish; His wealth and his gains shall avail him not; Burned shall he be with the fiery flame, His wife shall be laden with firewood-- On her neck a rope of palm fibre.”

But Abu Lahab, who by fits and starts relied on the goddess Al-Uzza for protection, did not cease his mud-slinging; and he was ably assisted by Pagans from foreign tribes who would taunt Mohammed thus: “Thine own kindred and people should know thee best; wherefore is it that they have cast thee off?” Then the Prophet would turn his face despairingly toward heaven and say, “O Lord, if Thou willedst, it would not be thus!” But Allah--Who, logically, should be as much of a nomad as his creatures--seems to have been enjoying a vacation just then.

In 619 the hostile edict was withdrawn; but the reasons for its abrogation are obscure. Some believe that the Koreish lifted it when (it must be repeated that the dates of these events are vague) Mohammed agreed to a compromise with the Pagan deities of Mecca; others think that the better nature of the Koreish at last caused them to pity the famishing exiles. Whatever the facts may be, it was discovered that the parchment on which the edict was written had been mostly devoured by some ants that, however, had taken devout care to leave the inscribed name of God intact. The Koreish were so confounded by this direct manifestation of Allah’s displeasure that, when five of their leaders declared they were opposed to the continued banishment of the Hashimites, opposition collapsed and the weary outcasts returned to their homes.

Mohammed, overjoyed at this unexpected good fortune and completely oblivious to the major part played by the insects, rightly gave thanks to Allah. But new, and even more sinister, events impended. Within a few months death deprived him of the loyal protection of Abu Talib and the tender ministrations of Khadija. He comforted his wife’s dying hours with the assurance that she, together with three other well-known women--the Virgin Mary, Potiphar’s wife, and “Kulthum, Moses’ sister”--would occupy his chamber in Paradise; but all he could conscientiously promise his expiring uncle was that he would inhabit the coolest, or at any rate the least hot, regions in Hell. The contingent deaths of these two made the Prophet’s position very precarious: Khadija had constantly nerved him to face the severest trials, and Abu Talib had just as constantly kept the number of those trials down. Abu Talib, in fact, was barely in his grave when the populace of Mecca cast dust on Mohammed’s head; and he therefore betook himself to At-Taif, a city some seventy miles east of Mecca, to test its possibilities as a refuge. Arriving there early in 620, he was much disconcerted to learn that none of its inhabitants had even so much as heard of his ten-year-old mission; and when he attempted to enlighten them, the sheiks and their groundlings merely sneered in open contempt. He then besought them not to divulge his religious views--an exhibition of invaliant diplomacy that caused the people to hoot and hurl stones at him, until he fled from the city with blood flowing down his legs. Utterly cast down in spirit, he spent the next two months in seclusion at Mecca. During the pilgrimage month of Dhul-Hijja, while he was addressing the crowds of visitors in his usual way, a coincidence of measureless significance occurred. Mohammed chanced to notice a little group of men whom he recognized as inhabitants of Medina.

THE HEGIRA

I

Ancient Yathrib, commonly called Medina, was familiar to the Arabs as “the pleasing” city, for it lay in a fertile plain teeming with “green fields, running water, every blessing the Eastern mind can desire.” For ages it had been inhabited by expatriated Jews; but early in the fourth century two Arab tribes, the Aus and the Khazraj, settled there. But the Hebrew residents were much superior to the newcomers in general culture, in agriculture and wealth, and, it was darkly rumored, in the black art of magic; for the Pagan usurpers held to the primitive belief that the perfect man was one who could write Arabic, swim and shoot--and not many of them could write Arabic. Jealousy of the more competent Jews, therefore, impelled the Yathribites to make war against them, and the sons of Abraham were decidedly disinclined to battle and bloodshed. Accordingly, having fought the Jews with very fair success, the two victorious clans had speedily decided to fight each other, with the result that Medina, for some generations, had been continually rent by tribal and civil wars. At present all parties were so tired of this everlasting strife that they had chosen one of the chief men among the Khazraj, Abdallah ibn Obei, to direct their fortunes; for the battle of Boath (616) had completely exhausted all the factions involved. Nevertheless, everybody was still dissatisfied, since it was feared that the truce was only temporary.

Now, for many centuries, despite one or two notable disappointments, the Jews had expectantly awaited the coming of a genuine prophet--a longing that had been communicated, probably through racial miscegenation, even to the Aus and the Khazraj--and lo! the news of Mohammed’s ministry was already common knowledge at Medina. When the little troop of Medinese chanced to meet Mohammed at the sacred fair, therefore, they spoke thus with each other: “Know surely that this is the prophet with whom the Jews are ever threatening us; wherefore let us make haste and be the first to join him.” For it was clear that languishing Medina, long disrupted by internecine struggles, needed above all else a leader capable of harmonizing all discordant elements and balancing the scales of justice impartially for all--except, it might be, the Jews--a leader, too, who would introduce no dangerous foreign ideas, but whose vital beliefs were grafted on a common Arabian stock. Perhaps there was some truth in the saying of Mohammed’s child-wife, Ayesha, that the battle of Boath had been engineered by Allah for the benefit of the Moslems.

So, when the Prophet thus addressed the visitors, “Sit ye down for a little, and I will speak with you,” they gladly obeyed. After he had explained the creed of Islam, with due emphasis upon his own part in it, he proceeded to narrate the dangers of his position at Mecca and next inquired what his prospects might be at Medina. They complimented him for his exalted rank, but expressed doubt as to his reception in their own embattled city. “If thou comest to us thus, we may be unable to rally round thee. Let us, we pray thee, return unto our people, if haply the Lord will create peace amongst us; and we will come back again to thee at this set time next year.” So the men returned to Medina and quickly scattered the news of their marvelous encounter: would it not, they argued, be good business to claim the services of this very self-confident Messiah before he was appropriated by the waiting Jews, whose money-lending power held the mass of Yathribites in abject poverty?

This counsel appeared excellent to both the Aus and the Khazraj. After a year of troubled waiting on the part of Mohammed, his heart was gladdened at the sight of twelve men who arrived on the appointed day to welcome him as the anticipated saviour of Medina. This oath was then sworn to by all: “We will not worship any but the one God; we will not steal, neither will we commit adultery, nor kill our children; we will not slander in anywise; nor will we disobey the Prophet in anything that is right.” Mohammed was so swept away by the general tone of obedience in this statement that he apparently failed to notice the joker in the concluding clause; and thus the First Pledge, or Pledge of Women--so called because its lack of martial ardor made it the only vow required of female Moslems--was made. The twelve apostles at once returned and the propagation of the new religion was soon in full swing. At the request of the Medinese, the Prophet sent one Musab--once a connoisseur of gaudy clothes and delicate perfumes, but now a ragged, rampant Moslem--to instruct them in the more intricate matters of Islam. So tremendous was the zeal for proselytizing that the most strenuous efforts were made to secure converts: the newly saved souls covenanted that they would not speak to anyone who did not acknowledge the Prophet, and all idols, as well as idol-worshipers, were treated with the utmost severity. The salvation of one old fellow, who habitually bowed before a horrid image in his house, was particularly affecting. Young devotees cast the idol into a noisome well every night; but every morning he just as regularly hauled up, cleansed it, and again went through his genuflections. One day, however, they hitched the vile thing to a dead dog before tossing it in the well, “whereupon he abandoned his image and believed.” Before long new converts came in from every side with very little persuasion; for the Medinese were very human and, inasmuch as Islam was now all the rage, they wanted to be in the newest style.

While Medina was buzzing with these devout activities, Mohammed was otherwise occupied. Hemmed in by ever present dangers, and hearing only vague reports of the conflagration that was sweeping Medina, he was constantly on tiptoe with hopeful yet fearful expectation. If his body was still held at Mecca, his unbridled imagination was free to range toward the beloved north, where both Medina and Jerusalem lay; and one morning he astounded his townsmen by declaring that, during the preceding night, he had performed his devotions in the Temple of Solomon at Jerusalem. The obliging Gabriel, he said, had borne him on a winged steed over Medina to the Temple; the Arabian Pegasus, however, did not pause long there, but continued his celestial journey until he had carried his passengers completely out of this world, to those ethereal realms of bliss where the Seven Heavens lie. Up and still up they flew, while the Prophet carefully noted the order of precedence of those prophets whose model he had proclaimed himself to be: Jesus and John were in the second or third--he was not _quite_ sure which--Moses was in the sixth, while Abraham alone had the supreme distinction of residing in the seventh. There, at the apex of indescribable glory, Mohammed had entered the awful presence of his Maker, Who, after some rather pointless chit-chat, charged him to see that all Moslems should hereafter prostrate themselves in prayer toward the Temple of Solomon five times every day. When Mohammed concluded, the Koreish laughed him to scorn, and even a few of the faithful were somewhat flabbergasted; but Abu Bekr saved the situation by declaring that he did not doubt the truth of this tale, inasmuch as he had already swallowed far more improbable yarns related by the Prophet. Yet the veracity of his amply substantiated narrative rests upon two solid facts: from that day to this, all devout Moslems have continued to bow themselves five times daily in prayer; and sceptics may still see, upon the rock where stands the Mosque of Omar in Jerusalem, the identical print of the Prophet’s foot where he leaped upon the heavenly charger.

II

The year 621 glided peacefully away. Mohammed, occupied with thoughts of a glorious future at Medina, had lost interest in spreading the faith in Mecca; and the Koreish, deceived by his apparent inactivity, had largely ceased to trouble him. Musab eventually returned with a glowing account of the progress made at Medina; but the Prophet, whose caution was certainly no less pronounced than his courage, carefully guarded his enthusiasm until more definite proofs were at hand. They soon came. In March, 622, the date fixed for the second conclave, seventy-three Medinese came in obedience to the promise made in the preceding year.

This occasion was so profoundly important that Mohammed took an infinitude of pains to conceal it--even his trusted intimates did not know about it beforehand. The Prophet, accompanied only by his wealthy and trustworthy uncle Al-Abbas, met the delegates at dead of night in a secluded glen. Al-Abbas diplomatically broke the ice by stating that, while his wonderful nephew was happy, safe and contented in Mecca, he nevertheless preferred to establish himself at Medina--in case ample security for his safety were assured. To this harangue Al-Bara, leader of the visitors, replied: “We have listened to thy words. Our resolution is unshaken. Our lives are at the Prophet’s service. It is now for _him_ to speak.” Then Mohammed, beginning loftily as he always did by chanting long passages of the Koran, finally descended to the earth and informed them that he would be gracious enough to confer the boon of his presence upon Medina if its inhabitants would make an irrevocable vow to defend him, even as they would protect their nearest and dearest. A confused jargon of voices arose, eagerly assuring him that his person would be guarded at any cost. Al-Abbas, frightened almost out of his skin, breathed: “Hush! There may be spies abroad,” and in low tones requested them to plight their faith. The chief replied, “Stretch out thy hand, O Mohammed!” He did so; and Al-Bara, followed by all the rest, struck his hand upon the Prophet’s in token of fealty. This was called the Second Pledge, since it included an oath to fight for the Prophet, and the touching of his holy hand--an honor never given to the generality of women. The assembly then silently broke up.

Such a large body of men could not gather so close to Mecca, however, without rumors leaking out. Next morning the mistrustful chiefs of the Koreish called upon the visitors and informed them that their presence warranted the suspicion that they were interfering in the politics of Mecca--an act that virtually amounted to a declaration of war. The Medinese did the only possible thing: they replied that the Koreish were wholly mistaken, and the slow-witted Meccans were ingenuous enough to believe them. But the clever Yathribites had barely departed in high glee when the Koreish learnt the facts, and set out upon a vain pursuit. Thus foiled, the enraged Koreish at once vented their spleen upon the believers, to whom the Prophet accordingly gave this command: “Depart unto Medina; for the Lord hath verily given unto you brethren in that city, and a home in which ye may find refuge.” Early in April the migration commenced, in parties of twos and threes, while the baffled Koreish looked on in stupefied amazement; for the number of clans that were involved in the movement prevented any concerted hostilities, since no one had the right to interfere in private family matters. By force or guile, however, they succeeded in corrupting some of Mohammed’s coadjutors who were weakest in faith or family ties; but the great body of Islam--now numbering probably close to two hundred souls--got safely away. A royal welcome awaited them, for the Medinese converts, flushed with their novel fanaticism, bestowed every imaginable honor upon the refugees--one zealot even went so far as to offer his guest one-half of his property, and also added a special bounty in the shape of one of his wives.