Part 23

The gates of the Ka'bah enclosure are open day and night. The pilgrim hurries there as soon as he gets to Makkah. At the sight of the temple draped in black, the object of his unceasing thoughts during the severe ordeals of the journey, in the midst of sandstorms or tempest-tossed, he is overtaken by such emotion that in this moment of superhuman ecstasy, he wishes his soul to be snatched away. Sobbing, his breast heaving fitfully, under the influence of remorse, his face convulsed by shame, he approaches the Black Stone to kiss it, exclaiming: 'O Allah! pardon me my sins; free my being from their burden and purify my heart, O Thou, the most Merciful among the Compassionate!'

When the hour of prayer is called by the Muazzin, the spacious quadrangle is invaded by a veritable sea of Believers; their hurrying waves scarcely leaving in the serried ranks the needful space for prostration. Following one of the "Takbirs" of the Imam, said after him in an immense sigh escaping simultaneously from every breast, a great swell passes over all the Faithful, causing every head to be bowed, like billows breaking.

At another "Takbir," it seems that the ground suddenly gives way under the pilgrims' feet. At one bound, every forehead is pressed to the earth, where the body of each man remains crushed by the threefold weight of Contrition, Gratitude and Adoration; like so many rays converging in the direction of the Temple which seems to be made still taller by the added height of the prostrated pilgrims. Above them, the black silk veil undulates, stirred by the gusts of a mysterious breeze which many attribute to angels' beating wings.

The Assembly of the Arafa is distinguished by quite as much grandeur. In a wild valley stands the conical mountain of Arafa. Its slopes, bare of all vegetation, bristle with enormous boulders. There is no sign of life on its sides, nor in the neighbourhood; all around is the image of desolation and the silence of death. But every year, on the ninth day of the month of Zu'l-Hijjah, the funereal landscape evokes most strikingly the future Day of Resurrection.

Soil, sand and rocks disappear, truly cloaked by human beings, enwrapped in their white "ihrams," and who might be taken for the resuscitated dead, freeing themselves from their shrouds after having lifted the rocks which were their gravestones. As it will happen on that supreme day, all the earth's races are represented in the countless crowds gathered together at this spot, deserted but a short time before. Here some Arabs, with eyes of eagles, their complexion of a reddish bronze; Ottomans, their features showing them to be energetic and headstrong; Hindoos, with faces clear-cut and olive-tinted; Berbers, fair-haired and rosy-cheeked, their eyes blue; Somalis and Soudanese, their black skins shining in the sun with lunar gleams; refined Persians; bold Turcomans; yellow Chinese, with closed eyelids; Javanese, high cheek-boned, etc.... Nowhere else in the world can such a variety of faces and languages be met with.

After the prayer of the "Asr," (afternoon), the "Khatib," or preacher, riding his she-camel, gorgeously harnessed, appears on the summit of the Arafa where the sermon is given forth, interrupted by frequent "Talbiyahs": "_Labbaika! Allahummah! Labbaika!_" (I stand up for Thy service, O Allah! I stand up! I stand up!)

At each "Talbiyah," the pilgrims wave the ends of their white draperies over their heads and the whole mountain seems to be palpitating under the beating of myriads of wings ready to fly, whilst a lengthy clamour rises to the sky from every part of the valley, reverberating in the sonorous echoes of the desert. "_Labbaika! Allahummah! Labbaika!_" shout two hundred thousand pilgrims with one voice, neglecting their own idioms, so as to become united in the same tongue: that of the Arabs, chosen by the Almighty for the Revelation of His Book.

In that sublime hour, in language as well as by the heart, all these mortals are cordially brothers. They have forgotten all their racial differences, distinctions of rank or caste, and all their political and religious feuds.... On the Arafa, Islam once more finds its perfect unity and its primitive outbreak of enthusiasm. What great consolation! What balm for some of its wounds!

Quoth the Prophet: 'The Moslems are as one body; the pain in any single limb gives rise to fever and insomnia in the whole of the frame.'

On the Arafa, Islam has nothing to fear from enemy spies; it can make good its losses and prepare its future. Despite its disasters, it is more alive than ever! Such is the impression of this unforgettable day, that each of the assistants takes back with him to his own country, as well as the title, so greatly envied, of "Haji," signifying Pilgrim to the Holy Places.

CHAPTER THE NINTH

[Sidenote: ILLNESS AND DEATH OF THE PROPHET (_Rabi'u'l-Awwal, Year IX of the Hegira. June A.D. 632._)]

Quoth Abu Muwayhiba, the Prophet's serving-man: "One night towards the end of the month of Safar, my master woke me up. "I must go and implore the blessing of Allah," said he, "for those at rest in the tombs of Baqui'u a'l-Gharqad. Come with me."

"I accompanied him. "Blessed be you, O dwellers in the tomb!" he exclaimed, when we reached the cemetery. "Rest in peace! Allah hath spared you terrible ordeals, like unto the anguish of a dark night, more terribly black at the end than at the beginning. Such are the torments in store for those who are still upon this earth!"

"As he finished speaking, the whole of his body was shaken by the palsy of fever, and he wended his way back to his dwelling with difficulty; his temples racked by the unbearable pains known as "Suda"...."

Quoth Ayishah: "When the Prophet returned from his visit to the cemetery of Al-Baqi, he came to see me in the middle of the night. I was suffering from violent headache and as I complained, he said: 'Ah! 'tis I who ought to complain of pains in the head and not thou!' He went on, jokingly: 'Would it not be better for thee to die whilst I am still in the land of the living? I could implore the Mercy of Allah in thy favour; with my own hands I could enfold thee in thy winding-sheet; I could pray over thy body and place thee in thy grave.' 'Of a surety thou doest me great honour in apprising me that thou wouldst act thus in my favour,' I replied; 'but I fear that after I was buried, thy sole consolation would be to bring back with thee, into my room, some other of thy wives!' At this sally, a smile returned to the Prophet's face and, for a brief moment, he forgot his pain."

As time went on, his illness left him no rest; nevertheless, mastering his sufferings, his mind was busier than ever, and he occupied himself with the future of Islam, for he felt that the effects of his management would soon be lacking.

Thinking that Syria was one of the gates through which the warriors of Allah would have to march to conquer the world, Mohammad's gaze was unceasingly turned towards that country and he resolved to organise a third expedition against the Christians, in whose power it was.

Great rivalry at once arose with regard to commanding such an incursion. Of heroes and generals having been put to the test, Islam had enough and to spare. The most famous among them: Ansars or Mohadjirun, anxiously awaited the Prophet's choice.

To the stupefaction of all, however, Usama, barely twenty years of age, was chosen. It is true that this lad was the son of Zayd ibn Harith, the martyr of Mutah. Mohammad placed great reliance on the revengeful ardour that Usama would show in fighting the murderers of his father on the very spot where he gloriously succumbed, than on the experience and warlike valour of the Mussulman generals.

This selection caused deception and gave rise to murmuring. The Believers hesitated to put boundless confidence, such as is indispensable for success, in a chief so young and inexperienced. Having been told about this, the Prophet rose and cut short all disputes by these words: 'Ye criticise my choice of Usama, even as ye formerly cavilled at that of Zayd, his father! Listen! To you I swear, by Allah! that Zayd was truly worthy of the post of command with which I did entrust him. I cherished him above all other men; and after him, his son is the man I prefer. Go, carry out my orders, and have confidence!'

These simple words, uttered in a tone of inspired conviction, banished all hesitation; smoothing away all jealousy as if by magic; and the noblest and most famous among all the chieftains, together with the most humble soldiers, came enthusiastically to obey the commands of the stripling. When the expedition marched into the "Farewell Pass," the Prophet was deeply moved as he saw his troops disappear. The superhuman faith animating the warriors at the parting hour proved to him that no obstacle could bar their way on the road to victory and that the irresistible torrent of Islam, like unto the salutary overflow of a wadi, was about to inundate the world and bring it the prolific germs of its new civilisation. Meanwhile, it was not long before the alarming news, relating to the Prophet's illness, stopped Usama's forward progress, bringing him back to Al-Madinah.

About that time, the Apostle received a letter, couched in these terms: "Musailimah, the Prophet of Allah, to Mohammad, the Prophet of Allah. Peace be with thee, I am thy associate. Let the exercise of authority be divided between us. Half the earth is mine, and half belongeth to the Quraish. But the Quraish are a greedy people, and will not be satisfied with a fair division."

The author of this epistle, Musailimah, Prince of the Yamama, had recently been converted to Islam; and then, fully appreciating the majesty of the part played by the Prophet, this pretender planned with monstrous pride to play the some part in his turn.

To the envoys bringing the impudent missive, Mohammad replied: 'Were it not that your situation as ambassadors causeth me to look upon your lives as sacred, I would have you beheaded.' And he handed them this answer: "Mohammad, the Prophet of Allah to Musailimah, the Impostor. Peace be with those who follow the right road! The earth is Allah's, and He giveth it to whom he will. Those only prosper who fear the Lord!"

Both Musailimah and Al-Aswad, another impostor, soon found out the danger run by those who enacted the part of Prophet without having been called by Allah. They expiated their temerity most cruelly.

The Prophet's illness became daily more serious. He grew so weak that he could only move about by dint of the most painful efforts.

Being in the house of Maimunah, he sent for his other wives. His usual habit was to pass the night in turn, impartially, at each of their dwellings; but feeling himself weighed down by intense suffering, he begged them to let him remain with Ayishah alone for the duration of his illness; and to this they consented.

Quoth Ayishah: "The Prophet left the abode of Maimunah, thanks to the assistance of Al-Fadl and Ali, who held him in their arms. A bandage was bound tightly round his head, and his weakness was so great that he had no sooner set foot in my room than he swooned. When he came to, lancinating pains tortured his temples; and hoping to soothe his pangs, he asked: 'Pour over me six skinsful of water drawn from a very cold spring, so that I may be in a fit state to go forth and preach to the Faithful.' We sat him in a stone trough, borrowed from Hafsa, and poured water over him in abundance, until he bade us stop, by a wave of his hand, saying: 'Enough!'"

Momentarily invigorated, Mohammad went out through Ayishah's door which gave on to the Mosque; and again supported by his cousin Ali and Al-Fadl, he had great trouble in mounting the steps of the pulpit, from which he made the following declaration to the Faithful assembled: 'O Believers, if among you there be one whose back I have beaten, here is my back so that he may do himself justice! If there be one whose honour I may have wounded, here is my honour, let him be avenged! If there be one whose property I may have seized, here is my property, let him satisfy his claim! Let no one hesitate in fear of my resentment, for resentment formeth no part of my disposition.' After having stepped down to give out the noonday prayer, he went up in the pulpit again and repeated the same declaration.

A man arose and claimed payment of a debt amounting to three drachmas. The Prophet handed them over to him at once, adding: 'It is easier to put up with shame in this world than in the other.'

He then evoked the remembrance of the martyrs of Uhud, to whom he devoted the best part of his prayer, imploring Allah's blessings in their favour. He wound up as follows: 'Allah hath offered one of His servants the choice between the riches of this earth and those that are to be found at His side.' At these words, divining that the Prophet was alluding to himself and the state of his health, Abu Bakr burst into tears, and exclaimed: 'Ah! why cannot we offer our lives as a ransom for thine?'--'O Believers!' replied Mohammad, 'it hath come to my ears that ye fear your Prophet may die; but before me hath any Prophet been immortal as he accomplished his Mission? How can I dwell eternally among you? Every soul is doomed to die. I must return to Allah and ye likewise will return to Him.'

Quoth Ayishah: "After this effort, when the Prophet came back to my room, he fainted away again. When the call of the Muazzin was heard, he rose up and asked for water wherewith to perform his ablutions, meaning to lead the prayers. He swooned three times.

"As the Faithful awaited his coming in the Mosque, he sent Bilal to fetch Abu Bakr, so that he could perform the duties of Imam instead of the Prophet. The crowd, guessing the reason of this change, broke out into fits of sobbing....

"The Prophet was frequently seized with delirium. One Thursday, whilst all his companions gathered round his bed, he said to them: 'Bring hither to me ink and parchment; I would place on record a book for you which shall prevent your going astray for evermore.'--'Allah's Messenger is burdened by pain,' said Umar; 'have we not the Qur'an? Allah's Book sufficeth for us.'

"Several of his companions, accustomed never to argue about anything said by the Prophet and remembering that he was illiterate, thought that in this supreme moment a miracle was about to be accomplished. Therefore they wanted to give him what he asked for. They were opposed by his partisans sharing Umar's opinion, and a quarrel began, the Prophet recovering his senses by the noise. He told them reproachfully: 'It is not seemly to quarrel thus at a Prophet's bedside. Go away!'

"To soothe his unbearable pain, he dipped his hands in a pitcher of cold water and passed his wet palms over his face, as if to wipe it: 'O Allah!' he cried, 'help me to support the terrors of the death struggle!'

"He had Fatimah, his beloved daughter, fetched to him twice and spoke to her secretly, whispering in her ear. The first time, Fatimah's face was bathed in tears; the second time, her features were lit up by a smile. We asked her the reason of her changed expression, and she told us: 'The first time, my father warned me that he must soon succumb to his illness, and I could not repress my tears. The second time, he informed me that of all his family, I should be the first to rejoin him, and so great was my joy that I could not stop myself from smiling.'"

On the Monday, the twelfth day of Rabi'u'l-Awwal, Abu Bakr was saying prayers in the presence of the Faithful, when Ayishah's door, giving into the Mosque, was thrown open. Supported by Ali and Al-Fadl, the Prophet appeared. His turban was twisted tightly round his head, and his benumbed feet dragged along the ground. On seeing him, the Faithful were comforted by a ray of hope and a wave of emotion stirred them all. Without turning round, Abu Bakr guessed that only the arrival of the Prophet could have given rise to such a manifestation while prayers were being said, and he moved away to join the ranks of the worshippers and let his place be taken by Mohammad. But he made Bakr go back; pulling him by his garment, as he said: 'Continue to lead the prayers.'

He then sat down on Abu Bakr's right hand, under the pulpit, and his face beamed with happiness, at the sight of the piety of the congregation. When prayers had been said, he spoke to the Believers for the last time; and in tones firm enough to be heard outside the Mosque, he preached a sermon predicting terrible ordeals and charging them with the strictest observance of the principles of the Qur'an, for such would be the only way leading to Salvation. Leaning against one of the palm-tree trunk pillars, he chatted familiarly with some of his companions, and then went back to his room.

Quoth Ayishah: "After this last effort, the Prophet was again overtaken by greater pain than ever, and covered his face with a black garment, which he threw off again, as it stifled him....

"Just then, Abdu'r Rahman, son of Abu Bakr, came in, holding in his hand a small twig of green "araq," with which he was picking his teeth. The Prophet stared at the little stick and I made out that he would have liked it. So I took it out of Abdu'r Rahman's hand. Cutting off the end of the toothpick, I shook it, cleaned it and gave it to Allah's messenger who immediately made use of it, picking his teeth more carefully than ever before. When he had finished, he let the little stick drop from between his faltering fingers. He raised his eyes to heaven, repeating three times: 'O Allah! with the Compassionate on High....!' And I felt his head, resting between my chin and shoulder, grow heavy on my arm.

"I guessed that the Prophet had chosen the eternal dwelling and that his noble soul had just been taken by the Angel of Death. I placed my head on the pillow and uttered a great cry of distress.... His wives came running in; and all together, we went down on our knees, and tore our faces with our nails."

On hearing these lamentations, the Believers filled the Mosque. They were dazed, like sheep straying on a dark, wintry night; but not one of the Faithful would admit that the Prophet was dead. The disappearance of the man who led them in every way seemed an impossibility.

'How can he be dead?' they cried. 'Did we not count upon him to be our witness on the Day of Resurrection? He is not dead; he hath been carried up to Heaven, even as was Isa (Jesus).' And through the door they cried: 'Beware lest ye bury him!'

This met with Umar's approval: 'No, verily, the Prophet is not dead! He hath gone to visit the Lord, even as Moses did, when after an absence of forty days, he reappeared to his people. In like fashion, Mohammad will be restored to us. Those who say he is dead are traitors to the cause of Islam. Let their hands and feet be cut off!'

At that juncture, Abu Bakr, who had been fetched from the As-Sunuh quarter where he lived, arrived on horseback, galloping as fast as possible. He alighted and, making his way through the crowd in consternation, he went into the Mosque without speaking to a soul, and from there, passed into the room of his daughter Ayishah in order to see Allah's Messenger. A piece of striped stuff was thrown over the body; Abu Bakr uncovered the Prophet's face, kissed him, wept and then broke down under the weight of his great grief.... 'O Thou for whose ransom I would have offered both father and mother,' he cried, 'thy career is well accomplished!'

Tearing himself away from his sorrowful contemplation, he covered up Mohammad's face again and went out, going straight up to Umar who was haranguing the people. 'Sit down, O Umar!' he said. Umar refused to obey him. In the meantime, the majority of the Faithful left him by himself, and gathered round Abu Bakr who told them: 'O Believers, if ye adore Mohammad, know that Mohammad is dead; but if ye adore Allah, know that Allah is alive, for Allah cannot die! Ye must have forgotten these verses of the Qur'an: "_Mohammad is no more than an Apostle; other Apostles have already passed away before him; if then he die, or be slain, will ye turn upon your heels? Thou truly art mortal, O (Mohammad), and they truly are mortals._" (THE QUR'AN, III, 138, and XXXIX, 31.)

Quoth Umar: "By Allah! scarcely did I hear Abu Bakr recite these verses than I felt my legs give way under me. I was near falling down, for then I began to understand that the Prophet was really dead!"

[Sidenote: ABU BAKR ELECTED]

Before thinking about the funeral, it was urgent to guard against the pressing danger threatening Islam, totally broken up by the loss of its inspired guide.

The man who had succeeded in bringing together in religious fraternity families and tribes at loggerheads for centuries, having disappeared, what would become of this brotherhood? The immediate nomination of a Caliph, or lieutenant appointed to continue the Prophet's task, could alone prevent irretrievable disaggregation. This urgent necessity stirred the tribes tumultuously; a tragical conflict between Ansars and Mohadjirun was imminent, each party claiming to have the Caliph chosen from among its adherents. Happily, Umar's energy and spirit of decision easily averted the crisis. Having succeeded in gaining a few moments' silence, he called upon the Believers to take notice that during the last days of his life, Mohammad had designated Abu Bakr, his companion during the Hegira, to take his place as "Imam," and doubtless the Prophet would have chosen him for Caliph.

This opinion carried the day. When the sun rose again, all the Believers, forgetting their disputes, came and took the oath of fidelity to Abu Bakr.

[Sidenote: THE PROPHET'S BURIAL]

This important question being settled, the Faithful were free to arrange the Prophet's funeral and give way to the despair that racked their souls.

At first, they were embarrassed, not daring to strip off his garments so as to wash the body according to the usual rites. Respect forbid them to look on his nakedness, as if it were sacrilegious to do so. After long discussions, irresistible sleep weighed down their eyelids; their chins rested on their breasts, when suddenly, a voice proceeding from the chamber of death was heard. They awoke at its sound and it replied to what was passing in their minds: 'Wash the Prophet without undressing him.' That was the solution they sought, and without further delay, they acted on the suggestion. With striped stuff of the Yaman, Abbas erected a kind of tent in the room, so as to keep the crowd away from the body. By the aid of seven skinsful of water drawn from the well of Al-Ghars, at Quba, preferred by Mohammad to any other, Ali, Usama, Abbas and his sons, and Shukran, the freed slave, proceeded with the ritual washing. Abbas, assisted by his sons, Al-Fadl and Qutham, turned the venerated body over. Usama and Shukran sprinkled it with water and Ali wiped it without removing the shirt.

The first washing was done with plain water, the next with an infusion of lotus-flowers; and the third, and last, with camphorated water. Abbas and Ali then perfumed every part of the body that comes in contact with the earth during the ceremony of prostration: forehead, nose, hands, knees and feet.

'How sweet is thy smell, O Prophet!' exclaimed Ali; and all marvelled at not finding on Mohammad's frame any of those horrible traces of decomposition following the separation of the soul from the body, with the exception of a slight bluish tinge appearing on the nails.