Chapter III: Part 3

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.

But Mohammed, together with his family and the household of Abu Bekr, still lingered. He informed Abu that “his time was not yet come; the Lord had not as yet given him the command to emigrate.” Whether or no the Prophet’s decision to tarry was determined on account of a genuine desire not to leave the burning ship before all the passengers were safe, or because he cannily awaited further proofs from the Medinese before trusting his skin to them, must forever remain a matter for indulgent speculation. But in the middle of June he received the fearful intelligence that the Koreish intended to visit him. Their purpose is uncertain. It has been surmised that they had decided to assassinate him--for if, like Cæsar, he were to be pierced with swords driven home by representatives of every tribe, his weak clan would have to be satisfied with blood-money instead of blood-vengeance--to imprison him, to ostracize him, or to do no man knows what. That Mohammed himself was not privy to their intentions is indicated by this passage from the Koran: “And call to mind when the Unbelievers plotted against thee, that they might detain thee, or slay thee, or expel thee. Yea, they plotted, but God plotted likewise. And God is the best of plotters.” Tradition states that Gabriel informed the Prophet of the malignant design; he at once told Ali to lie upon his bed, then went forth, and simultaneously greeted the evil-comers with a handful of dust and this excerpt from the Koran, “And We have covered them so that they shall not see.” For, indeed, the best of plotters had wrapped Mohammed in a cloak of invisibility; he therefore escaped undetected while the murderous men lay in wait, thinking that the silent figure on the bed was the Prophet until the morning light apprised them of their sad error. It seems more likely, however, that Mohammed merely threw his deceptive red mantle over the recumbent Ali, and then slipped out of the back window to join the trembling Abu Bekr, who wept joyous tears now that his superior had at last decided to leave Mecca.

For the next three days, the two men lay in concealment in a neighboring cave, while the distracted Koreish feverishly sought everywhere for them. The house of Abu Bekr was searched, but when his daughter Asma was asked, “Where is thy father?” she innocently replied, “Truly, I know not where he is”--whereupon Abu Jahl, a ferocious and impudent fellow, “slapped her on the face with such force that one of her earrings dropped.” Meanwhile the two outcasts lurked in the secrecy of the cave, across whose entrance, we are informed, a divinely commissioned spider wove a protecting web; yet legends are often more industrious than spiders. Abu Bekr would shake with fear and breathe the low whisper, “What if one were to look through the chink, and see us underneath his very feet?” to which the Prophet would boldly reply: “Think not thus, Abu Bekr! We are two, but God is in the midst a third.” Yet Mohammed loved Abu “more than all the world; he held no one equal unto him,” sang the poet Hassan; and the generally taciturn and morose Prophet, listening to the song, was pleased and laughed so heartily that he held his sides and his back teeth became visible. “Thou hast spoken truly, O Hassan!” he remarked after he had recovered his breath, “it is just as thou hast said.”

After three days had passed without their detection, it seemed safe to speed toward Medina. The careful Abu Bekr had fetched a purse, bulging with thousands of gold pieces, as well as two of his best camels; and, probably on the night of June 20, they mounted the beasts--Mohammed taking care to choose the swifter one, Al-Kaswa--and started on the perilous journey. The two-hundred-odd miles that they must traverse extended over a parched, barren, inexpressibly desolate and mournful waste, where only such rugged trees as the tamarind and acacia could exist, where phantom mirages mocked the eye, and all nature was but a ribbed and menacing skeleton. They traveled chiefly at night, resting during the sweltering heat of the day and buying provisions from such scattered Bedouins as they chanced to encounter. Abu Bekr, who was well known to most of these desert dwellers, was frequently asked who his friend was, and he regularly made the answer, “A guide to lead me,” while the diplomatic Prophet kept a strict silence.

At length, after eight days of doubt and deprivation, they came in sight of Medina; but the wary Mohammed had no intention of trusting himself to the city before he knew exactly how things lay. “Lead us,” he said to the guide, “straight to the Beni Amr at Koba, and draw not yet nigh unto Medina.” This overscrupulous vigilance turned out to be unnecessary, for rumors of his approach had set the city agog with delight; and every morning a band of converts and refugees had posted themselves on a hill to watch his arrival. On this morning one of them, catching sight of the travelers as they trudged toward Koba, raised the rapturous shout: “Ho! he has come! he whom we have been looking for has come!” The marvelous news flew from tongue to tongue, and everybody rushed forth to Koba to greet the majestic guest. Even the children cried out: “Here is the Prophet! He is come! He is come!” while a great crowd surged around him and made profound obeisance. Then Mohammed knew at last that he was safe among friends. He had escaped from Mecca, where the Koreishite swords might have altered the course of events for all time; but the otherwise dull and sluggish Middle Ages were fated to be infinitely enriched by the romantic contest between the Crescent and the Cross. “Ye people!” he courteously proclaimed, “show your joy by giving your neighbors the salutation of peace; send portions to the poor; bind close the ties of kinsmanship; and offer up your prayers whilst others sleep. Thus ye shall enter Paradise in peace.”

III

To make the assurance of a safe entrance to Medina doubly sure, however, Mohammed lingered four days at Koba. Even then he took no dangerous chances, for he requested the Medinese descendants of his revered great-grandmother, the spouse of Hashim, to attend him into the city; and in the meantime he had slept only when some of his most trusted underlings kept watch. These super-precautions proved to be needless, for tribe after tribe came flocking forth to see which could outdo the other in paying reverence to him. On every hand rose the earnest request: “Alight here, O Prophet! We have abundance with us, means of defense and weapons and room. Abide with us!”--and many suppliants emphasized their requests by seizing the halter of Al-Kaswa. On this occasion Mohammed’s superb political ability was again evidenced. He would show no favoritism, but, by means of a camel and an omen--both inexpressibly dear to every Arab’s heart--he would choose his abode by supernatural means. To all these fervent ejaculations he replied: “The decision rests with the camel; make way for her; let her go free.” So Al-Kaswa, unguided by rein, moved forward until she entered the eastern section of the city, where, seeing a few date-trees in an open courtyard, she quite naturally ambled toward their grateful shade and awkwardly sat down. And in this way was the site for the Mosque chosen--the famous Mosque where, for the remainder of his days, the Prophet dwelt, married, prayed, preached, emitted new revelations, planned his schemes of conquest, greeted his friends, and uttered maledictions against his foes; where, also, he sickened, died and was buried. Yet certain abominable sceptics have intimated that Mohammed knew beforehand that this particular spot was already hallowed as a place of prayer, and that the rein of Al-Kaswa’s halter was not so very slack after all.

The Prophet at once negotiated to buy the sacred site. Its owners wished to make him a present of it, but he would not stoop to accept it as a gift; accordingly, it was purchased with ten gold pieces from Abu Bekr’s wallet. For seven months Mohammed lived in the lower story of an adjacent house, owned by Abu Eiyub, while the construction of the Mosque, with its adjoining apartments for himself, went on. His bodily wants were provided for by the citizens, who contended with each other for the honor of sending him the choicest viands they could procure. As might be expected, Abu Eiyub was exceedingly solicitous for the comfort and safety of his distinguished roomer. Once, when a water-pot was accidentally broken in the upper story, Abu and his wife quickly sopped up the water with their clothes, and then rushed down to Mohammed’s apartment in great fear lest a drop or two might have defiled his garments. Meanwhile the building of the Mosque was pushed at full speed. The Prophet himself joined heartily in the work, thus stimulating all his helpers to increase their efforts, and united with them in their labor-lightening song:

“O Lord! there is no joy but the joy of futurity.
O Lord! have mercy upon the Citizens and the Refugees!”

All this led to a spirit of fellowship between these two classes, and, in order that the union might be made more firm, Mohammed, after first setting the example, paired off individuals in each. “Become brethren every two and two of you,” he gently commanded, and it was done.

One danger, unforeseen even by the perspicacious Prophet, soon threatened the refugees. The climate of Mecca, while excessively hot, was dry and salubrious; but, though Medina’s altitude was unusually great, her drainage paradoxically enough was very poor, and the noxious exhalations from her stagnant water, abetted by intense heat at day and intense cold at night, soon prostrated large numbers of the refugees with fever. This misfortune so dampened the enthusiasm of many that, in their frenzied delirium, they would moan out their desire to go home. When Mohammed heard of this, he looked upward and raised this prayer: “O Lord! make Medina dear unto us, even as Mecca, or even dearer. Bless its produce, and banish far from it the pestilence!” But, for some inscrutable reason, Allah, the Hearer and the Answerer of Prayer, remained deaf for a time; and at one period Mohammed was one of the very few persons who were able to stand during prayers. When, however, he informed the recumbent invalids that “the prayer of one who sits is worth only half the prayer of him that stands,” they all made desperate efforts to rise.

Nevertheless, the first few months at Medina were on the whole happy and auspicious. The elements of disaffection that lurked among the Jews and the unbelievers bided their day; the refugees and the citizen converts, or allies, gladly rushed to fulfill the smallest desire of the Prophet, whose fascinating personality completely charmed his friends and even intrigued his enemies--for a time. Who could resist the appeal of a man who gracefully bestowed names of good omen upon converts previously burdened with inauspicious Pagan titles, and who dignified those of his subordinates who were enslaved in the ignoble calling of “hucksters” by altering the forbidding word to “Merchants”? In an excess of praiseworthy devotion, they quaffed the sacred water in which the Prophet had bathed, and piously treasured his hairs and nail-parings as charms and forget-me-nots. And Mohammed, ever extraordinarily swift to take hints, soon formed the habit of wrapping up these personal relics and bestowing them upon new converts as a peculiar evidence of his esteem.

While his worshipers thus fawned and his foes maintained an ominously quiet peace, the Prophet calmly assumed the attributes of a sovereign and sacerdotal office. As self-appointed ruler of the city, he exercised the right of deposing and selecting whatever chiefs he desired; as priestly dictator of all Islam, he established those multitudinous rules and ordinances that still defy the assaults of time. Motivated probably by a statesmanlike, if rather cautious, wish to win or at least placate the Jews, he inaugurated a complicated system of devotion based principally upon the famous precepts that had been given to Moses. The detractors of Islam have so exaggerated its largely fictitious sensuality that its rigorous rites have too often been forgotten: its lustrations, its fastings, its prodigality of genuflections. The business of lustration, for example, was very complicated. Before prayer the Moslem must wash his face from the top of the forehead to the chin and sideways as far as both ears, bathe his arms and hands as far as the elbows, and cleanse his feet as far as the ankles; and all this must be done in the strictest silence, broken only by such prayers as the votary might think appropriate. While scrubbing his teeth, he might say if he chose: “Vouchsafe, O Lord, as I clean my teeth, to purify me from my faults, and accept my homage, O Lord! May the purity of my teeth be for me a pledge of the whiteness of my face at the Day of Judgment.” If, through a momentary lapse into sin, the hapless believer had defiled his body, he thus washed away his iniquity: three successive times he poured water upon his right and left shoulders, and a like number of times on the top of his head; and should one hair on the entire body be left untouched, the act of purification was wholly vain.

The Prophet also instituted various fasts which, with certain alterations, have also endured. These fasts were, if possible, even more laboriously meticulous than lustration. While abstaining from food and drink, the Moslems must take the most scrupulous precaution to see that absolutely nothing entered the body. If they smelled perfumes, bathed, or carelessly swallowed their spittle, the fast was broken; the most ardent disciples would not even open their mouths to converse, for fear of inhaling too much air; and, if a thoughtless faster allowed a particle of food, no matter how small, to become wedged between his teeth, he was deemed to be a backslider from the faith.

December was for a time annually sanctified by fasting, and several rather diverting details followed. In the first place, most of the Moslems took the responsibility with such complete and abject seriousness that they unintentionally disturbed the Prophet’s slumbers. Very late one evening they came to the Mosque for the service of prayer; and, observing that Mohammed was not on hand, they approached his house and coughed loudly before the door. The Prophet, now thoroughly aroused, came forth and addressed them thus: “I have observed for some days your coming for the nightly prayer at the Mosque, until I feared that it would grow by custom into a binding ordinance.... Wherefore, pray ye at eventide in your houses.” He then returned to resume his interrupted repose; but a further trouble awaited him. His humble supporters, it appeared, were obsessed with the monkish idea that they should abstain from every conceivable pleasure during the whole month; but Mohammed was too wise to permit such immoderate asceticism. Allah, it was soon revealed, “willeth not for you that which is difficult.... It is lawful unto you, during the nights of the Fast, to consort with your wives. Now, therefore, sleep with them, and earnestly desire that which God hath ordained for you; and eat and drink until ye can distinguish a white thread from a black thread, by the daybreak. Then keep the fast again until night.... Thus God declareth His signs unto mankind, that they may follow Piety.” The consequent popularity of the fast, indeed, brought new adherents to Islam in great abundance, until an unforeseen contingency arose. Abstinence from food and drink during the short days of December caused little difficulty; but the Prophet, trusting in that quaint omniscience which universally attends the assumption of prophetic robes, introduced an intercalary system based upon the lunar months. The sacred month, therefore, gradually shifted from winter to summer, when the sixteen-hour days made what had previously been a pleasure a great burden; nevertheless, Mohammed persevered in his oddity, for to have done otherwise would have impugned his infallibility. So his faithful zealots groaned and were troubled, and longingly anticipated the new moon, when the fast was joyously broken by the bestowal of alms upon the poor and the resumption of normal bodily activities.

Five times a day the believers, no matter how pleasantly occupied, must turn to prayer: at dawn, at midday, in the afternoon, at sunset, and at the coming of complete darkness. On six days these devotions could be performed anywhere, though preferably in congregation at the Mosque; but every Friday the Moslems, unless detained by extraordinary causes, were commanded to worship in a body at the Mosque. The ever efficient Gabriel informed Mohammed of Allah’s desire that the time for each prayer should be announced by a crier, who must shout: “Great is the Lord! Great is the Lord! I bear witness that there is no God but the Lord: I bear witness that Mohammed is the Prophet of God. Come unto prayer: come unto salvation. God is great! God is great! There is no God but the Lord!” So Mohammed instructed his negro servant, Bilal, to be the public crier; and early every morning Bilal would clamber upon a high house and rouse the slumbering Moslems with these words, adding this salutary invention of his own: “Prayer is better than sleep! Prayer is better than sleep!” Then, climbing down from his lofty perch, he would approach Mohammed’s door and shout: “To prayer, O Apostle of God! to salvation!”

At the special Friday service, the Prophet ascended the pulpit, gave a stereotyped salutation of peace, and then seated himself while Bilal shouted the stentorian summons to prayer. Descending from the pulpit, Mohammed then led the prayers; reascending, he delivered one or two exhortations. The assembly, fixing their rapt glances on his earnest gesticulations, would swallow every word and at the end join in a loud “Amen!” or something like it. When all was over, his mantle of striped material from Yemen, and his girdle of splendid Oman cloth, were carefully folded up and laid away until the next service. The pulpit itself was soon endowed with an awful sanctity. Disputes were settled at its base; and should anyone take a false oath in its presence, “even if the subject were as insignificant as a toothpick”--and toothpicks were not wholly unknown in Islam--he thereby doomed himself to eternal damnation. Before it had been built, Mohammed had supported himself during his sermons by leaning on a post--an object of which he grew so fond that, after it was no longer needed, he commanded it should be interred beneath the pulpit. The post itself reciprocated his touching sentiment; for, when it was abandoned, it moaned loudly and would not stop until the Prophet placed his hand upon it, whereupon its grief was assuaged.

HOLY WARS

I

Though Mohammed was now actually the spiritual and nominally the temporal ruler of Medina, his position nevertheless was very precarious. The Jews, while completely deficient in martial valor, were openly contemptuous of his prophetical jurisdiction, and the Khazrajite leader, Abdallah ibn Obei, showed overt defiance against his assumption of civil power. Presumably because he feared and respected Abdallah’s influence, the Prophet took pains to treat him with every courtesy; but the compliment was not returned. One day, when Mohammed chanced to observe his rival seated at ease in the cool shade of his house, he alighted from his steed, graciously saluted the sitter, recited some of the most affecting passages in the Koran, and finally invited him to adopt the faith. Abdallah listened composedly until the long harangue was ended; then he spoke. “Nothing could be better than this discourse of thine, if it were true. Now, therefore, do thou sit at home in thine own house, and whosoever cometh to thee preach thus unto him, and he that cometh not unto thee refrain from troubling him with that which he dislikes.” He also casually mentioned the fact that he objected to the smell of the beast that Mohammed bestrode; so the Prophet went on his way, sorely stricken in spirit.

In other ways, too, he was equally unfortunate. His fabulous rise from the lowly state of an insignificant trader to the pinnacle of fame appears to have induced him to overestimate his powers; at any rate, soon after his arrival at Medina, he betrayed his ignorance of the simplest facts of Arabian agriculture by forbidding the artificial fecundation of palm trees, with the result that they became almost barren. But when his egregious error was pointed out, he manifested a wisdom rare in prophets by candidly admitting that he was in the wrong. “I am only mortal,” he confessed. “If I give you an order in the domain of your religion then receive it; but if I give you an order from my own opinion then am I but mortal.” In the near famine that had resulted from his bungling interference, there was poetic justice in the fact that he, as well as the rest, could eat only one date per day; yet he gladly shared in the stringent privations that all were forced to endure. While his own face was pinched with hunger, he divided with the most needy Moslems the gifts of food which various people had sent him; on one occasion he was glad to accept a Jew’s offer to partake of a meal of rancid fat and barley bread; and for months, during the dead of winter, he went without any fire on his hearth.

It was obvious that such a state of affairs could not be permitted to continue. No matter how strong the already sorely tried faith of his partisans was, it would not forever withstand the shocks of rampant famine and naked, shivering misery; then too, and even more vital, was the consideration that new converts could never be won over to such a ragged and unkempt faith--Islam would not grow. And other even more subtle ideas were fermenting in Mohammed’s ever restive mind. He, the one and only Prophet of the Most High Allah, was a starving outcast because of the pernicious activities of the overbearing, wealthy and rather cowardly Koreish, whose teeming caravans pursued their unmolested way northward from Mecca, between Medina and the Red Sea, to Syria. But the destitute refugees were pledged to advance the banners of Islam not merely in defensive, but, if Allah so willed, in offensive war; and should any of them see fit to remind him that, in earlier days, he had instructed them not to retaliate against their enemies, he could--and did--allay their squeamishness with a revelation. Furthermore, his henchmen had already been subjected, by chance or design, to a strenuous discipline that had inured them to endure such hardships as a career of pillage and guerrilla warfare would entail. Rigid religious fasts had accustomed them to withstand hunger and thirst; at the daily public _salat_, or prayer, they had been drilled to stand in rows, to perform what amounted to tough gymnastic exercises, and to expect celestial condemnation unless they scrupulously obeyed the minutest requirements of these incessant manœuvers. The successful plundering of opulent Koreishite caravans--which, under the circumstances, might reasonably be expected--would accomplish four excellent results: it would put a summary end to the ubiquitous suffering at Medina; it would provide a more than adequate outlet for the explosive zeal of his backers; it would conclusively demonstrate the prowess of Islam, thereby winning new members to the fold; and it would enable Mohammed to exult over the salutary discomfiture of his despicable foes.

How clearly defined these or other considerations may have been in the mind of the outstanding Oriental of the seventh century, it would be presumptuous for a twentieth century Occidental to say; the fact remains, however, that such were the results attained. Brahminism, Buddhism and Confucianism waxed slowly great through renunciation, inertia and mystical contemplation; but Jehovah and Allah were made of sterner stuff. It seems probable that, despite the peaceful creed and practice of its founder, Christianity would never have become a serious rival of other world-faiths had it not been for the implacable swords of Constantine and Charlemagne; but Islam was fortunate from the beginning in that its inventor entertained no silly scruples about blood-letting. The Crusades, the French Revolution, and Cromwellian Puritanism were attended by an amount of sadism that may well make one pause before too severely condemning the blood-mania and sex-obsession that mark every stage of Islam’s triumphant progress.

Thus it happened that, from December, 622, until October, 623, the Prophet sent six separate expeditions against the Meccan caravans. The first three were entirely unsuccessful, notwithstanding the fact that Mohammed presented the leader of each one with a white banner mounted on a staff; but the fourth, led by the Prophet himself, was marked by a momentous incident. Though he failed to capture his prey, he made some sort of offensive and defensive alliance with the idolatrous tribe of Banu Damrah; and, apparently lest he might be rightly criticized for making friends with unbelievers, he justified his action in the only acceptable way--by a revelation. “It may be that Allah will bring about friendship between you and those whom you hold to be your enemies.... Allah does not forbid you respecting those who have not made war against you on account of (your) religion, and have not driven you forth from your homes.... Allah only forbids you respecting those who made war against you on account of (your) religion, and drove you forth from your homes....” It may be surmised that the Prophet, himself an ex-camel-driver familiar with Bedouin ways, was moved to speak thus by two considerations: desert tribes that subsisted principally by plunder would be quick to appreciate the desirability of linking themselves with a faith that sanctified theft here and promised Paradise hereafter; besides, a successful assault on Koreish merchandise could hardly be made without the acquiescence or assistance of the tribes through whose territory that merchandise passed.

The fifth expedition was fruitless, but the sixth brought about alliances with several seashore clans; and a seventh one led not only to the first actual bloodshed, but to an even more striking innovation. Two days before the end of the sacred month of Rejeb, Mohammed sent eight men forth and gave their leader sealed orders which were not to be opened until after a two days’ march. By a mere coincidence or by a sly design of the Prophet, the document was thus read, according to instructions, on the last day of Rejeb. After commanding the leader not to force “any of thy followers against his inclination,” it ordered him to lie in wait for a Meccan caravan. Faced by the dilemma of fighting when strife was taboo, or of delaying until it would be too late to overtake the Koreish travelers, the Moslems summarily solved the problem by shooting an arrow through one of the Meccans and returning to Medina with the booty. Then, to their utter dismay, Mohammed rose up, “his face red with anger,” and declared, “I never commanded thee to fight in the Sacred month.” Yet it is curiously interesting to note that this heavenly message soon appeared: “They will ask thee concerning the Sacred months, whether they may war therein. Say: Warring therein is grievous; but to obstruct the way of God and to deny Him, to hinder men from the Holy temple, and to expel His people thence, that is more grievous with God.”

Thus, through blind caprice or far-seeing, statesmanlike duplicity, the way was opened for bloodshed on a grand and wholly unrestricted scale. Nine centuries before Machiavelli, and eleven before Napoleon, the Prophet of Islam formulated this dictum: “War after all is but a game of deception.” Deception of several kinds, that is to say: one’s foes should be openly cursed and belittled while privately they were respected and even feared; one’s followers should be assured that martial ardor was the best of all possible virtues and that death on the field of honor was a matchless boon. “The sword,” Mohammed declared, “is the key of Heaven and Hell; a drop of blood shed in the cause of God, a night spent in arms, is of more avail than two months of fasting or prayer; whosoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven; at the day of judgment his wounds shall be resplendent as vermilion, and odiferous as musk; and the loss of his limbs shall be supplied by the wings of angels and cherubim.” The Koran of this period teems with frightful maledictions against the Koreish, and transcendent pictures of the Paradise that awaited the Moslem elect. Those warriors who could repeat the greatest number of its verses were, we are told, rewarded with the pick of the spoil after a victorious contest, and those who fell martyrs to Islam were buried with the most honorable rites. It was only too easy, one suspects, for devout Moslem warriors to memorize such passages as these: “War is ordained for you, even if it be irksome unto you. Perchance ye may dislike that which is good for you, and love that which is evil for you. But God knoweth, and ye know not.... God loveth not the Transgressors. Kill them wheresoever ye find them; and expel them from whence they have expelled you.... Those of you that contribute before the victory, and fight, shall not be placed on the same level, but shall have a rank superior over those who contribute after it and fight. Who is he that lendeth unto the Lord a goodly loan? He shall double the same, and he shall have honorable recompense.... Those that have gone into exile for the cause of God, and then have been slain, or have died, We shall certainly nourish them with an excellent provision, for God is the best Provider.... He shall lead them into the Paradise whereof He hath told them.... For ever therein--a fair abode and resting place!”

II

So it came to pass that the Prophet, who had managed to survive at Mecca only because of the Koreishite respect for ties of blood, was himself responsible for starting a blood-feud against the Koreish. He appears, however, to have been far less disturbed by this consideration than by the fact that he had not yet succeeded in winning any considerable amount of loot from them; but his desire was soon to be amply gratified.

In the autumn of 623, Abu Sufyan, a leading Meccan merchant, had conducted the most important caravan of the year to Syria, and in January, 624, he was on his way home with fifty thousand pieces of gold. Mohammed had meanwhile determined that this rich cargo should be his; but, being yet somewhat inexperienced in the niceties of brigandage and slaughter, he carelessly allowed rumors of his intention to reach the ears of Abu, who at once sent a runner to Mecca with an urgent request for a rescuing force. The Prophet, in the meanwhile, rallied his supporters for the assault after this fashion: “See! here cometh a caravan of Koreish in which they have embarked much wealth. Come! let us go forth; peradventure the Lord will enrich us with the same.” Scores of refugees and citizens gladly leaped forth to obey, but he would allow none save the righteous to join him. Chancing to spy two heathens among the volunteers, he sternly addressed them thus, “None shall go forth with me but he who is of our Faith.” To their plea that they were redoubtable fighters who would ask nothing but their share of the plunder, he replied: “Ye shall not go thus. _Believe and fight!_” Immediately they asserted their profound conviction that he was indeed the Prophet of Allah, whereupon their ears were gladdened with the remark, “Now go forth and fight!” And these two became such famous despoilers that another heathen, after noting how greatly their conversion had benefited them, sadly exclaimed: “Would that I had gone forth with the Prophet! Then I had surely secured large booty!”

After dispatching two scouts to watch the movements of the caravan, Mohammed and his army of three hundred and five men at once set out toward Bedr (a spot near the coast to the southwest of Medina), hoping to apprehend the caravan at that place. While on the way, he deliberately avoided passing through certain localities whose names were unpleasing to him; for this singular man, who commonly appeared morose, taciturn and phlegmatic, had a nervous temperament that was extraordinarily susceptible to an astonishing variety of idiosyncratic fancies and whims. He would not sit down at night in a dark room; he believed that odd numbers had greater virtue than even ones; he changed color and walked nervously around during heavy storms; and he had a charmingly ingenuous faith in portents. Abu Sufyan, too, believed in signs--when they meant something definite. When he came to a well at Bedr, his eagle eyes spied two ominous date-stones that the careless scouts had dropped near its brink. “Camels from Yathrib!” cried Abu; “these be the scouts of Mohammed!” and he immediately guided his caravan at full speed to the right.

His runner meanwhile had reached Mecca where, approaching the Kaba, he forced his camel to kneel; then, cutting off its nose and ears and tearing his shirt-tails to signify that a dreadful calamity impended, the Arabian Paul Revere screamed: “Koreish! Koreish! your caravan is pursued by Mohammed. Help! oh help!” The Meccans, already enraged at the murder of their tribesman at the hands of Moslems during Rejeb, were more than eager for vengeance, and an army of about nine hundred and fifty men at once started for Bedr. But, when they neared that place, a messenger reached them with the news that the caravan had fled on and was already out of danger. A heated discussion arose as to what should be done: since their merchandise was safe, should they return; or, should they take up the presumptuous challenge of the renegade Prophet? While both points of view were being violently argued, another scout came rushing up with the appalling information that the Moslem “numbers are small, but death is astride upon the camels of Yathrib.” Following this alarming prophecy, a retreat had almost been ordered when Abu Jahl, the nasty girl-slapper, taunted his compatriots by calling them cowards, and bade one Amir, a brother of the murdered Meccan, to think of his brother-blood; Amir immediately tore off his garments, covered himself with dust and began to shriek his brother’s name aloud. Thus their fury was revived, and, though a few craven-hearted ones returned to Mecca, the rest marched posthaste toward the oncoming foe.

During this time the news of the enemy’s advance had reached the army of Mohammed; but, instead of causing debate, it had roused the Moslem enthusiasm to a greater pitch. The citizens, too, even though they had not pledged themselves to assist in offensive warfare, were equally affected. “Prophet of the Lord!” shouted their leader, “march whither thou listest; encamp wheresoever thou mayest choose; make war or conclude peace with whom thou wilt. For I swear by Him who hath sent thee the Truth, that if thou wert to march till our camels fell down dead, we should go forward with thee to the world’s end.” Then Mohammed, deeply affected by this proof of devotion, responded: “Go forward with the blessing of God! For, verily, He hath promised one of the two--the army or the caravan--that He will deliver it into our hands. By the Lord! methinks I even now see the battlefield strewn with dead.” Here were no timid bickerings, no half-hearted counsels, no unmanly scruples about spilling fraternal blood: what _was_ there to fear when Paradise, revenge for ostracism, and fifty thousand shining pieces of gold beckoned them on? And the Prophet, who never did things by halves, fanned the rising fires of fanaticism by giving turbulent utterance to a series of commingled imprecatory and suppliant prayers. “O Lord! let not Abu Jahl escape, the Pharaoh of his people! Lord! let not Zaama escape; rather let the eyes of his father run sore for him with weeping, and become blind!... O Lord! I beseech thee, forget not Thy promise of assistance and of victory. O Lord! if this little band be vanquished, Idolatry will prevail, and the pure worship of Thee cease from off the earth!”

When night fell, both armies had nearly reached Bedr. Mohammed and Abu Bekr sought repose in a hut of palm branches guarded by a soldier with his sword drawn; and the Prophet’s slumbers were comforted by dreams in which the enemy appeared as a pitifully weak force. Morning had barely dawned when foe swiftly advanced to meet foe. A providential rain had softened the ground over which the Koreish must needs pass, and, at the same time, it had paradoxically hardened the soil beneath the Moslem feet; the fortunate fact that small sandy ridges concealed the majority of the Meccans induced the Medinese to advance with extra courage; and the Koreish suffered the further disadvantage of facing the troublesome rays of the rising sun. In addition, the Prophet’s superior foresight, abetted by the suggestion of a counselor, had prompted him to take possession of a never-failing spring, as well as to destroy all the other available water-sources; for he always backed up his incessant prayers by using every device of military tactics that he happened to know, or acquire.

According to the Arabian custom, the fray opened with a series of individual combats. Three Meccan warriors stepped vaingloriously forth, daring the three best men among the Moslems to face them; and valorous Hamza, impetuous Ali, and Obeida the septuagenarian rushed forward to accept the challenge. The swords of Hamza and Ali soon dripped with the lifeblood of two Koreishites; when Obeida fell severely wounded, they sprang to his aid and simultaneously delivered two lusty strokes that killed the third. Then, raising the cry, “Ye conquerors, strike!” the serried Moslem ranks hurled themselves against the enemy; but the Prophet himself, while the deadly yet indecisive struggle was being waged, played an ambiguous part. Friendly traditions state that he bounded about with a sword in his hand. Those of another sort relate that, upon observing the first shedding of blood, he retired to his hut and swooned; that, upon being revived, he poured forth the most energetic prayers; and that, even before the battle commenced, he had taken pains to have a swift camel tied to his tent as a last resource against the possible calamity of defeat. Still other narratives assert that he occupied himself principally in reminding his accomplices that Paradise awaited those who perished for Islam--a promise whose validity he himself seems to have been indisposed to test. For Mohammed, no less than many other religiously-minded emperors and tsars, appears to have conducted himself in battle according to the wise principle that a head without a halo is infinitely more desirable than a halo without a head.

While the disorderly Meccan forces were being steadily pressed back by the close-joined Moslem ranks, a furious storm of wind arose. Until this time, Mohammed seems to have been rather sceptical concerning the issue of his prayers; but, now that the foe was beginning to waver, he doubted no longer. “That,” he exclaimed while the tempest raged, “is Gabriel with a thousand angels charging down upon the foe.” Then, stooping and grabbing up a handful of small stones, he rose and hurled them at the Koreish, accompanying his action with the shout, “Confusion seize their faces!” This double assault, timed at the psychological moment, could not fail to have effect. The broken and shaken Meccan ranks--thoroughly discomfited by a lack of discipline, by a merely lukewarm interest in fighting their quondam neighbors and friends, and, as their own satirists abundantly pointed out later, by actual cowardice--cracked apart and fled in complete dismay, to be harassed and killed or captured by the pursuing Moslems. Mohammed lost but fourteen men in the encounter, whereas more than a hundred Koreish were slain or taken prisoners.

Curious scenes followed. A Moslem named Moadh had succeeded in cutting off Abu Jahl’s leg. Just then Moadh, attacked by Abu’s son, had found himself with one of his own arms almost severed; and, realizing that this member was now a useless impediment, Moadh bent over, placed his foot on the injured arm, wrenched it off, and continued to fight. At this moment one Abdallah came running up to assist Moadh, and, overjoyed at his good fortune in stumbling over such a notorious enemy, cut off Abu Jahl’s head and carried it to Mohammed. The Prophet, who was just beginning to celebrate his victory, raised the exultant shout: “The head of the enemy of God! God! there is none other God!” “There is none other!” agreed Abdallah, dropping his gory prize before Mohammed’s feet; and Abdallah almost fainted from bliss when the Prophet continued, “It is more acceptable to me than the choicest camel in all Arabia.” It happened, also, that Ali had overheard Mohammed praying for the death of Naufal ibn Khuweilid, who had been taken prisoner; so Ali ran up, coolly slaughtered him, and promptly hastened with the good news to the Prophet, who joyously commented that this was doubtless a direct answer to his supplication. The spoil was soon gathered, and a pit was dug into which the Koreishite bodies were tossed; and Mohammed, who stood by watching the proceedings, greeted each corpse by name, adding this question, “Have ye now found true that which your Lord did promise you? What my Lord promised me, that verily I have found to be true.” “O Prophet!” inquired an amazed observer, “dost thou speak unto the dead?” “Yea, verily,” was the reply, “for now they well know that the promise of their Lord hath fully come to pass.”

Next morning, when the prisoners were led before him, he turned a malignant gaze upon Al-Nadr, who had been captured by Mikdad. “There is death in that glance,” the frightened Al-Nadr whispered to a bystander, and he was right; his trembling plea for mercy was rewarded with the response, “Islam hath rent all bonds asunder,” from a prominent Moslem, and with the command, “Strike off his head!” from Mohammed, who also felt moved to add, “And, O Lord, do Thou of Thy bounty grant unto Mikdad a better prey than this!” Another prisoner, Okba--a man well versed in Grecian, Persian and Arabian lore, who is said to have aroused the Prophet’s ire by the observation that, if a fund of good stories entitled a man to call himself a prophet, he was fully as good a candidate as Mohammed himself--was likewise ordered to face his doom. Mohammed, however, first satisfied Okba’s curiosity as to why he had been singled out for destruction with the words, “Because of thine enmity to God and his Prophet.” “And my little girl,” continued Okba, “who will take care of her?” “Hell-fire!” was the swift reply, as Okba was chopped to the ground. The Prophet, surveying the remains, rejoiced after this fashion: “I give thanks unto the Lord that hath slain thee, and comforted mine eyes thereby.” Yet it should be stated that the defenders of Islam asseverate that Mohammed’s remarks to the Koreishite corpses were intended to express pity rather than hatred, and that the ejaculation “Hell-fire!” was a reference to the fact that Okba’s children were nicknamed “children of fire”--in other words, he implied that Okba’s descendants would be cared for by his relatives.

Whatever the facts may be, it is certain that Mohammed treated the rest of the captives with a kindness rarely matched in the martial history of Arabia. While the implacable Omar made a violent plea for their summary death, and while the easy-going Abu Bekr urged clemency, Gabriel winged his way from Allah’s presence with the gratifying information that Mohammed might do as he wished; but he added the portentous remark that, if the Koreish were spared, a like number of Moslems would perish in battle within the year. Mohammed eventually pleased everyone, except Omar, by announcing that the prisoners would not be slain, but that they could be freed only by ransom, and that those Moslems who might fall as Gabriel had foretold would “inherit Paradise and the crown of martyrdom.” His decision was probably reached on account of several considerations: the ransom for some seventy prisoners might benefit Islam even more than their blood; there was the further chance that some of them might become disciples; and, finally, he may conceivably have been more mercifully minded than his traducers admit.

Joy and thanksgiving were unbounded when the news of the overwhelming victory reached Medina; even the toddling children chased around the streets crying out, “Abu Jahl, the sinner, is slain!” The prisoners were so kindly treated that some of them actually became converts, while the stubborn remainder were ransomed for reasonable sums--except those whose wealth Mohammed’s abnormally retentive memory still kept in mind. Thus, when the case of the opulent Naufal, Mohammed’s own cousin, came up, the Prophet amazed him with a demand for the thousand spears that he possessed; Naufal was so completely upset by this evidence of what appeared to be supernatural assistance that he is said to have accepted Islam on the spot. Among the prisoners, also, was the Prophet’s rich uncle Al-Abbas, who declined to pay on the ground that he was already a Moslem and that he had been obliged to fight against his conscience. “God knows best about that,” replied his nephew; “externally you were against us, so ransom yourself.” When Al-Abbas demurred, saying that he was now penniless, he was met with the pitiless query, “Then where is the money which, when you left Mecca, you secretly deposited with your wife?” Al-Abbas paid his ransom. Meanwhile a spirited discussion arose as to the way in which the booty--which included about one hundred and fifty camels and horses, together with vast quantities of vestments and armor--should be divided; the matter, indeed, was so important that it could be settled only by a heavenly decree, which stipulated that one-fifth should be placed at the disposal of “God and the Prophet” and the remainder equally dispersed among the army.

But these were mere mercenary considerations. The outstanding, overshadowing fact was that a small body of Moslems had utterly routed a force three times their own number. Mohammed might well claim that he had at last performed a veritable miracle, and his subordinates might well have become a little vainglorious too; but the Koran soon placed the credit for the “Day of Deliverance” where it properly belonged. “As for victory, it is from none other than from God; for God is glorious and wise.... And ye slew them not, but God slew them. Neither was it thou, O Prophet, that didst cast the gravel; but God did cast it.” And yet the human side of the encounter was not neglected. The glorious Three Hundred who had fought and conquered such superior odds thenceforth became the peerage of Medina. Until the end of his life, Mohammed was willing to forgive almost any sort of offence committed by any one of them, for, as he wisely declared, he could not be sure that Allah Himself had not given them free leave to do as they chose.