MUHAMMAD’S VICTORY over the Quraysh greatly enhanced his prestige in the peninsula. During the next few months, he capitalized on this, dispatching raiding parties against tribes who belonged to the Meccan confederacy, hoping to tighten the economic blockade that was damaging Qurayshan trade and attract some of the Syrian caravans to Medina. His continuing success made many of the Arabs question the validity of their traditional faith. They were pragmatic people, less interested in abstract speculation than in the effectiveness of a religious system. When the Meccan army had left Medina after the siege, the commander Khalid ibn al-Walid had cried: “Every man of sense now knows that Muhammad has not lied!”1 Even the most committed adherents of the old faith were beginning to agree. During a raid against one of the Meccan caravans, Muhammad’s former son-in-law Abu l-‘As, who had been ready to give up his family rather than accept Islam, was taken prisoner; Muhammad ordered that he be released and his merchandise returned to him, and this second act of generosity so impressed Abu l-‘As that after he had taken the goods back to Mecca, he made the hijrah, converted to Islam, and was reunited with Zaynab and their little daughter.
In Arabia as a whole, the tide had turned in Muhammad’s favor, but within Medina the opposite was true. There the conflict had become more venomous than ever; every day Ibn Ubayy insinuated that had he retained the leadership, Yathrib could have been pacified without incurring the lethal enmity of the most powerful city in Arabia. Muhammad’s enemies rarely attacked him openly, but conducted a somewhat underhanded smear campaign. His controversial attempt to improve the status of women was a godsend to them, and they began to circulate malicious and salacious rumors about his wives. Some made it known that they had their eye on some of the more attractive members of his harem and intended to marry them after his death—a suggestion that carried more than a hint of assassination.2 It was whispered that Muhammad was now too old to satisfy his wives or that he had a testicular hernia.3 There was a good deal of spiteful gossip about ‘A’isha and a young man called Safwan ibn al-Mu‘attal. When people crowded into his family quarters to put their questions and complaints to Muhammad, some of the men had actually insulted his wives before his very eyes. The situation was getting out of hand. At night, when it was cooler, Medina came to life, and people liked to walk about and socialize outside, enjoying the fresher air, but since the siege, women had been attacked on the streets. When the Prophet’s wives went out together, the Hypocrites had started to follow them, yelling obscene suggestions and making lewd gestures.4 When challenged, they protested that in the darkness they had mistaken the women for slave girls, who were considered fair game for this type of harassment.
Muhammad was emotionally and physically drained by the strain of the last few years. He had always been emotionally dependent upon his women and this made him vulnerable. When he decided to take another wife, tongues started to wag again.5 Zaynab bint Jahsh had always been close to Muhammad; she was his cousin, but she was also the wife of Zayd, his adopted son. Muhammad had arranged the match himself shortly after the hijrah, even though Zaynab had been far from enthusiastic: Zayd was not physically pre-possessing and she may even then have been interested in Muhammad himself. Zaynab was now in her late thirties, but, despite the harsh climate and conditions of Arabia, she was still extremely beautiful. A pious woman, she was a skilled leather-worker and gave all the proceeds of her craft to the poor. Muhammad seems to have seen her with new eyes and to have fallen in love quite suddenly when he had called at her house one afternoon to speak to Zayd, who happened to be out. Not expecting any visitors, Zaynab had come to the door in dishabille, more revealingly dressed than usual, and Muhammad had averted his eyes hastily, muttering “Praise be to Allah, who changes men’s hearts!” Shortly afterwards, Zaynab and Zayd were divorced. The marriage had never been happy and Zayd was glad to release her. This story has shocked some of Muhammad’s Western critics who are used to more ascetic, Christian heroes, but the Muslim sources seem to find nothing untoward in this demonstration of their Prophet’s virility. Nor are they disturbed that Muhammad had more than four wives: why should God not give his prophet a few privileges? What scandalized his opponents in Medina was the fact that Zaynab had been married to Zayd: Arabs regarded adoption as conferring an almost biological relationship and there was much scandalized talk about incest. Muhammad was reassured on this point by a revelation that assured him that Allah himself desired the match and that it was not sinful to marry the spouse of an adopted child.6 ‘A’isha, who was always prone to jealousy, happened to be with Muhammad when he received this divine message. How very convenient! she remarked tartly, “Truly thy Lord makes haste to do thy bidding!” As usual, tensions in the harem reflected divisions in the community as a whole: Muhammad’s marriage to one of his own cousins would further the political ends of the Prophet’s family, advancing the cause of the ahl al-beit.
Because of the scandal, Muhammad insisted that the entire community attend the wedding celebrations. The courtyard was crowded with guests, many of them hostile to the Prophet, and the atmosphere would not have been pleasant. Eventually the party began to break up, but a small group remained behind in Zaynab’s new apartment, apparently blissfully unaware that it was time for the bride and groom to be alone. Muhammad left the room and sat with his other wives, hoping that these tactless guests would take the hint. “How do you like your new companion?” ‘A’isha inquired acidly, when he dropped in on her. He eventually returned to Zaynab’s hut, where the revellers were finally being ushered out by his friend Anas ibn Malik. As he entered the room, Muhammad somewhat impatiently drew a curtain (hijab) between himself and Anas, uttering the words of a new revelation:
O you who have attained to faith! Do not enter the Prophet’s dwellings unless you are given leave; [and when invited] to a meal, do not come [so early as] to wait for it to be readied: but whenever you are invited, enter [at the proper time]; and when you have partaken of the meal, disperse without lingering for the sake of mere talk: that, behold, might give of-fence to the Prophet, and yet he might feel shy of [asking] you [to leave]: but God is not shy of [teaching you] what is right.
And as for the Prophet’s wives, whenever you ask them for anything that you need, ask them from behind a screen: this will but deepen the purity of your hearts and theirs.7
The revelation went on to ordain that Muhammad’s wives should not remarry after his death, and ordered them to wear their jilbab (which could refer to various garments) in a distinctive way, so that they could be recognized in the street and avoid harassment.8
The hijab verses have become extremely controversial.9 They would eventually—about three generations after the Prophet’s death—be used to justify the veiling of all women and their segregation in a separate part of the house. But they must be seen in context. They occur in Surah 33, which also deals with the siege, and must be considered against this frightening backdrop. These directives did not apply to all Muslim women, but only to Muhammad’s wives. They were prompted by the thinly disguised threats of Muhammad’s enemies, the aggressive encroachment upon his personal space, and the abuse to which his wives were subjected almost daily. The poisonous atmosphere of Medina after the siege had compelled Muhammad to change his personal arrangements. Henceforth there would be no open house; instead of crowding freely into his wives’ apartments, Muslims must approach them from behind a protective screen. The word hijab comes from the root HJB: to hide. The curtain established a threshold; it shielded a “forbidden” or “sacred” (haram) object, like the damask cloth that covered the Kabah. In times of vulnerability, women’s bodies often symbolize the endangered community, and in our own day, the hijab has acquired new importance in seeming to protect the ummah from the threat of the West.
Muhammad had not wanted to separate his private life from his public duties. He continued to take his wives on military expeditions, though they would now remain in their tent. But the other women of the ummah continued to move around the oasis freely. The hijab was not devised to divide the sexes. In fact, when the revelation had come down, the curtain had been drawn between two men—the Prophet and Anas—to separate the married couple from the hostile community. The introduction of the hijab was a victory for ‘Umar, who had been urging the Prophet to segregate his wives for some time—a somewhat superficial solution to a complex problem. Muhammad had wanted to change people’s attitudes, and the imposition of this external barrier was a compromise, because it did not require Muslims to exercise an internal control over their actions. But he gave in to ‘Umar, because of the crisis that was tearing Medina apart.
But the situation did not improve. A few weeks after the introduction of the hijab, Muhammad’s enemies orchestrated a vicious attack on ‘A’isha, which devastated the Prophet and almost succeeded in dividing the community.10 ‘A’isha was an easy target. Everybody knew that she was Muhammad’s favorite. She was beautiful, spirited, proud of her prominent position, jealous, outspoken, not without egotism, and had doubtless made many enemies. On this occasion, Muhammad had chosen ‘A’isha to accompany him on an expedition against an ally of the Quraysh who had somewhat menacingly encamped a little closer to Medina than usual. According to Muhammad’s spies, the Quraysh had persuaded them to attack the oasis. It was a successful raid: the Muslims intercepted them at the Well of Muraysi on the Red Sea coast and managed to carry off two hundred camels, five hundred sheep, and two hundred of their women. Juwayriyyah bint al-Harith, daughter of the chief, was among the captives. ‘A’isha’s heart sank as soon as she set eyes on her, because Juwayriyyah was so pretty, and, sure enough, during the negotiations that followed the raid, Muhammad proposed marriage to seal the alliance with her father.
The Muslims camped at Muraysi for three days, but, despite the positive outcome of the ghazu, the simmering tension between the Emigrants and the Helpers escalated into a serious incident. While the Muslims were watering their camels at a well, local people from two different tribes—one confederated to the Quraysh, the other to the Khazraj—started to quarrel about a fairly trivial matter. Before long there was a full-scale brawl, and the combatants called upon the Muslim bystanders for help. The Emigrants rushed to the aid of the tribesmen who were allied to the Quraysh, while the Helpers from Khazraj rallied round their opponents. In a matter of moments, in direct violation of the Qur’an, Muslim was fighting Muslim. When they heard the news, ‘Umar and some of Muhammad’s other companions rushed in to stop this unseemly fighting, but Ibn Ubayy was enraged: how dared ‘Umar prevent the Khazraj from helping their own allies! “They seek to take precedence over us!” he cried. “By Allah, when we return to Medina, the higher and mightier of us will drive out the lower and the weaker.” A bystander ran immediately to report this to Muhammad, who paled when he heard this latest threat. ‘Umar wanted to have Ibn Ubayy executed immediately, but Muhammad restrained him: did he want it said that the Prophet killed his own companions?11 But he gave the Muslims orders to decamp immediately and begin the trek home, even though this meant travelling through the worst heat of the day—something he had never done before.
During one of the halts, ‘A’isha slipped away to relieve herself, and when she returned, found that she had mislaid her necklace. It had been a wedding gift from her mother, and she could not bear to lose it, so she went back to search for it. While she was gone, the men lifted her litter—duly shrouded with the hijab—onto her camel, assuming that she was safely inside, and the party moved off without her. ‘A’isha was not too distressed when she discovered the deserted campsite, because she knew that it was only a matter of time before somebody missed her. She sat down to wait and sure enough, her old friend Safwan ibn al-Mu‘attal, who had fallen behind the others, turned up and put her on the back of his own camel. When ‘A’isha rejoined the expedition with Safwan, the old rumor about their illicit relationship started up again, and Muhammad’s enemies gleefully imagined the worst. It was not surprising that ‘A’isha had fallen for Safwan, Ibn Ubayy remarked loudly, because he was so much younger and more attractive than her husband. The scandal rocked Medina, and the story seemed so plausible that some of the Emigrants began to believe it and even Abu Bakr, ‘A’isha’s father, began to suspect that it might be true.
More seriously, Muhammad himself began to doubt ‘A’isha’s innocence—a telling sign of his waning confidence during this difficult period. For a few days he seemed confused and uncertain. His need for ‘A’isha was so great that, faced with the possibility of losing her, he seemed confused and hesitant. He no longer received any messages from God; it was the first time, since the very beginning of his prophetic career, that the divine voice had fallen silent. Ibn Ubayy continued to exploit the situation, and old tribal hatreds flared, as the Khazraj, Ibn Ubayy’s tribe, threatened to fight the Aws, who argued that the people who were stirring the scandal should be immediately executed. The situation was so grave that Muhammad was forced to summon all the chiefs of Medina to a meeting and ask for their support should he find it necessary to take action against Ibn Ubayy, who was threatening his family.
Finally Muhammad went to confront ‘A’isha, who had taken refuge in her parents’ home. She had wept for two days but her tears dried like magic as soon as her husband entered the house and she faced him calmly. Muhammad urged her to confess her sin honestly; if she repented, God would forgive her. But with great dignity, the fourteen-year-old girl stood her ground and gazed steadfastly at her husband as she made her reply. There seemed little point in her saying anything at all, she said. She could not admit to something she had not done, and if she protested her innocence, nobody—not even her own parents—would believe her. She could only repeat the words of the prophet Jacob: “Patience in adversity is most goodly in the sight of God; and it is to God [alone] that I pray to give me strength to bear the misfortune which you have described to me.”12 She then turned silently and lay down on her bed.
Muhammad knew ‘A’isha through and through, and she must have convinced him, because as soon as she had finished speaking, he fell into the deep trance that was so often a prelude to revelation. He swooned and Abu Bakr put a leather cushion under his head, while he and his wife waited, terrified, for God’s judgment. “Good news, ‘A’isha!” Muhammad cried at last: God had confirmed her innocence. Overcome with relief, her parents urged her to get up and come to her husband but ‘A’isha remained implacable. “I shall neither come to him nor thank him,” she replied. “Nor will I thank the both of you, who listened to the slander and did not deny it. I shall rise and give thanks to Allah alone!”13 Duly chastened, Muhammad humbly accepted the rebuke, and went to recite the new revelation to the crowd that had gathered outside.14 A personal and political tragedy had been averted, but doubts remained. The distressing incident had shown how vulnerable Muhammad was. Was he—as Ibn Ubayy had so cruelly suggested—a spent fire?
But in March 628, the month of the hajj pilgrimage to Mecca, Muhammad made a startling announcement that proved to be an extraordinary demonstration of his prophetic genius.15 It seems that he had no clearly defined plan at the outset, but only a dimly perceived insight. He told the Muslims that he had had a strange, numinous dream: he had seen himself standing in the Haram of Mecca, with the shaven head of the pilgrim, wearing the traditional hajji costume and holding the key to the Kabah, filled with a serene assurance of victory. The next morning, he announced that he intended to make the hajj and invited his companions to accompany him. It is easy to imagine the fear, wonder, and uncertain joy that filled the Muslims when they heard this startling invitation. Muhammad made it clear that this would not be a military expedition. Pilgrims were forbidden to carry weapons during the hajj and he had no intention of violating the Meccan sanctuary where all fighting was forbidden. ‘Umar objected. The Muslims would go like lambs to the slaughter! It was essential that they were able to defend themselves! But Muhammad was adamant. “I will not carry arms,” he said firmly. “I am setting out with no other end than to make the pilgrimage.” The pilgrims would wear no armour, but simply the traditional white robes of the hajji; at the beginning of the journey, they could carry a small hunting knife to kill game, but they would have to lay these aside once they had made their formal consecration. They would have to march unarmed into enemy territory.
None of the Bedouin who had joined Muhammad’s confederacy was prepared to take the risk, but about a thousand Emigrants and Helpers volunteered. Even Ibn Ubayy and some of the Hypocrites decided to go; two women Helpers, who had been present at the Pledge of ‘Aqabah, were allowed to join the party, and Umm Salamah accompanied Muhammad.
The Muslims set off with the camels that they would sacrifice at the climax of the hajj. At the first stop, Muhammad consecrated one of these camels in the traditional way, making special marks on it, hanging the ritual garments around its neck, and turning it in the direction of Mecca. He then uttered the pilgrim cry: “Here I am, O God, at your service!” The news of this audacious expedition spread quickly from one tribe to another, and the Bedouin followed their progress intently as the hajjis made the long journey south. Muhammad knew that he was placing the Quraysh in an extremely difficult position. Every Arab had the right to make the hajj and if the Quraysh, the guardians of the Haram, forbade a thousand pilgrims who were punctiliously observing the rites to enter the sanctuary, they would be guilty of a gross dereliction of duty. But it would also be intolerably humiliating for the Quraysh if Muhammad did enter the city, and it soon became clear that the Qurayshan leadership was determined to stop Muhammad at any price. In an emergency meeting of the Assembly, Khalid ibn al-Walid was dispatched with two hundred cavalry to attack the defenseless pilgrims.
When he heard this grave news, Muhammad was filled with anguish for his tribe. The Quraysh were so blinded by the sterile hatred of warfare that they were prepared to violate the sacred principles on which their entire way of life depended. What was the point of such intransigence? “Alas Quraysh!” he cried, “War has devoured them! What harm would they have suffered if they had left me and the rest of the Arabs to go our own ways?” The expedition was going to be quite different from what he had imagined. Because of his dream, Muhammad had probably expected to be admitted to Mecca, and have the opportunity to explain the principles of Islam to the Quraysh in the peaceful conditions imposed by the hajj. But he could not turn back now. “By Allah,” he resolved, “I will not cease to strive for the mission with which God has entrusted me until he makes it victorious or I perish.”16 His first task was to get the pilgrims safely into the sanctuary. The Muslims found a guide from the friendly Bedouin tribe of Aslam, who led the party by a circuitous, rugged path into the area where all violence was forbidden. As soon as he entered the sacred zone, Muhammad reminded the pilgrims that they were engaged in a strictly religious activity. They must not allow themselves to be carried away by the excitement of homecoming; there must be no facile triumph; and they must put their sins behind them. Now they should make their way to the nearby well of Hudaybiyyah, getting their camels to kick up the sand so that Khalid and his men would know exactly where they were.
When they reached Hudaybiyyah, Muhammad’s camel Qaswa’ fell to her knees and refused to budge. The pilgrims yelled at her, trying to make her get up, but Muhammad reminded them of the elephant who had knelt before the Kabah during the Abyssinian invasion all those years ago—a divine “sign” that had persuaded the enemy army to turn back without a fight. Something similar was happening today. “The One who restrained the elephant from entering Mecca is keeping Qaswa’ back,” he explained, and yet again he reminded the pilgrims that they were coming in a spirit of reconciliation: “Whatever condition the Quraysh make in which they ask me to show kindness to kindred, I shall agree to.”17 Muhammad had never planned to overthrow the Quraysh but had simply wanted to reform the social system, which, he was convinced, would bring the city to ruin. The Quraysh thought that their pilgrimage amounted to a declaration of war but, like Qaswa’, Muhammad was determined to prostrate himself humbly before the holiness of Mecca. The war had achieved nothing of lasting value and both sides had committed atrocities. This was to be a peaceful offensive, not an invasion.
But very few of the Muslims took Muhammad seriously. Keyed up by the excitement and drama of the occasion, they were expecting something spectacular. Perhaps there would be a miracle! Maybe they would enter Mecca in triumph and drive the Quraysh from the city! Instead, Muhammad calmly ordered them to water their camels and sit down beside them. What followed was what used to be called a “sit-in.” Waiting obediently for permission to enter the city, refraining from violence, Muhammad was demonstrating that he was more in line with Arab tradition than the Quraysh, who had been prepared to kill him while he was making his way unarmed toward the sacred ground.
And, indeed, the Bedouin got the message. A chief of Khuza’ah who was visiting Mecca rode out to Hudaybiyyah to see what was going on. He was horrified to hear that the pilgrims had been denied access to the holy places, and went back to the city to protest angrily to the Quraysh. Mecca had always been an inclusive city; it had welcomed all Arabs to the Haram and this pluralism had been the source of its commercial success. What did they think they were doing? They had no right to bar a man who had clearly come in peace, he complained. But the Qurayshan elders laughed in his face. They were prepared to stand between Muhammad and the Kabah and fight him until their last man had been killed. “He may not have come wanting war,” they cried, “but by Allah he shall never come in against our will, nor shall the Arabs ever say that we have allowed it.”18
At this point, the Meccan resistance to Muhammad was led by Suhayl, the pious pagan whom Muhammad had hoped to attract to Islam, and the sons of some of Islam’s earliest opponents: ‘Ikrimah, who like his father, Abu Jahl, was implacably opposed to any compromise; and Safwan ibn Umayyah, whose father had died at Badr. Interestingly, Abu Sufyan seems to have played no part in the events of Hudaybiyyah. A man of outstanding intelligence, he probably realized that Muhammad had wrong-footed the Quraysh and that it was no longer possible to deal with him with the conventional defiance of jahiliyyah.
The Meccans had tried to kill the pilgrims, but Muhammad had eluded them; their next ploy was to try to cause dissension among the Muslims, by inviting Ibn Ubayy to perform the rites at the Kabah. But to everybody’s surprise, Ibn Ubayy replied that he could not possibly perform the tawaf before the Prophet. He would clash with Muhammad again in the future, but at Hudaybiyyah, Ibn Ubayy was a loyal Muslim. Safwan and Suhayl persuaded ‘Ikrimah to agree to negotiation, and sent one of their Bedouin allies, Hulays, chief of al-Harih, an extremely devout man, as their representative. When Muhammad saw him coming, he sent the sacrificial camels out to greet him, and when Hulays saw them trotting towards him, beautifully decked out in their garlands, he was so impressed that he did not even bother to interrogate Muhammad but returned immediately to the city. These were bona fide pilgrims, he reported, who must be admitted at once to the Haram. Safwan was furious. How dared Hulays—an ignorant Bedouin—give them orders! This was a grave mistake. Hulays rose and replied with great dignity:
You men of Quraysh, it was not for this that we made an alliance with you. Is a man who comes to do honor to the house of Allah to be excluded from it? By Him who holds my life in his hand, either you let Muhammad do what he has come to do or I shall take away my troops to the last man.19
Safwan hastily apologized and asked Hulays to bear with them until they found a solution that was satisfactory to everybody.
Their next envoy was ‘Urwah ibn Mas‘ud of Ta’if, a crucial ally of Mecca. ‘Urwah immediately put his finger on Muhammad’s weak spot. “So you have gathered this medley of people, O Muhammad, by whom you came back to break the might of your own tribe,” said ‘Urwah, gesturing contemptuously at the pilgrims. “By Allah, I could see these disbanding against you tomorrow!”20 Muhammad knew that despite this apparent show of strength and unity, he had very few dependable allies. His Bedouin confederates, who had refused to accompany him on the pilgrimage, had only a superficial commitment to Islam; his position in Medina was still desperately insecure; and he knew that some of his closest companions would not understand what he was about to do. How could he realistically oppose the Quraysh—his own tribe—with this motley rabble? The Quraysh, on the other hand, were solidly united and armed to the teeth, ‘Urwah told him; even the women and children had vowed to prevent him entering Mecca. Nevertheless, almost in spite of himself, ‘Urwah was impressed by the Muslims’ devotion to the Prophet during this crisis, and he told the Quraysh that—at least for the time being—Muhammad held the winning cards and they would have to make some kind of agreement with him.
Muhammad decided to send an ambassador of his own into Mecca. First he dispatched one of the Helpers, thinking that this would be less inflammatory, but the Quraysh hamstrung the man’s camel and would have killed him had not Hulays’s tribesmen intervened. Next Muhammad approached ‘Umar, but none of his clansmen in the city was strong enough to protect him, so it was decided that the well-connected ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan should undertake the mission. The Quraysh heard him out, but were not convinced by his exposition of Islam, though they gave him permission to perform the rites of the pilgrimage. ‘Uthman, of course, refused so the Quraysh decided to keep him as a hostage, but sent word to the Muslims that he had been killed.
This was a terrible moment. It seemed as though the expedition had horribly misfired. In this extremity, Muhammad fell into a trance but this time there was no message from Allah, and he had to find a solution himself, listening, as he always did, to the under-current of these fearful events in order to discover what was really going on. Finally, he asked the pilgrims to swear an oath of fealty. One by one, they took his hand and swore the Oath of Good Pleasure. The sources all have different interpretations of this event, but Waqidi’s account is probably the most persuasive. He says that the Muslims vowed to obey Muhammad implicitly and to follow what was “in his soul” during this crisis.21 Muhammad had never been able to command absolute obedience, but, shaken by the report of ‘Uthman’s murder, even Ibn Ubayy and the Hypocrites were ready to take the oath. Muhammad had resolved, at a deep instinctual level, to take a course of action that he knew many would find intolerable and he wanted to ensure their loyalty in advance. After everybody had taken the pledge, things began to improve. First came the good news that ‘Uthman had not been killed after all, and then Muhammad saw Suhayl, whom he had always respected, approaching the camp, and realized that the Quraysh were now seriously prepared to negotiate.
This in itself was an important achievement. At last Muhammad had compelled the Quraysh to take him seriously, and there was a real possibility of a peaceful solution. Muhammad sat with Suhayl for a long time but the terms that were agreed filled many of his companions with dismay. First he promised to return to Medina without visiting the Haram, though Suhayl promised that the following year the Muslims could return and perform the traditional rites of the hajj within the city limits. There would be a truce between Mecca and Medina for ten years; Muhammad promised to return any member of the Quraysh who converted to Islam and made the hijrah to Medina without the consent of his guardians, but agreed that the Quraysh would not have to return a Muslim who defected to Mecca. The Bedouin tribes were released from their former treaty obligations and could choose to form an alliance with either Medina or Mecca.
The Qur’an had long stipulated that in the interests of peace, Muslims must agree to any conditions that the enemy proposed, even if they seemed disadvantageous.22 But many of the pilgrims found these terms dishonorable. The truce meant that Muslims could no longer raid the Meccan caravans; why was Muhammad abandoning the economic blockade that was really starting to bite? Why had he consented to return new converts to Mecca, when the Quraysh did not have to reciprocate? During the last five years, many Muslims had died for their religion; others had risked everything and given up family and friends. Yet now Muhammad had calmly handed the advantage back to the Quraysh, and the pilgrims must agree to go home meekly, without even forcing the pilgrimage issue. The treaty assaulted every single jahili instinct. “The apostle’s companions had gone out without any doubt of occupying Mecca, because of the vision the apostle had seen,” explained Ibn Ishaq. “When they saw the negotiations for peace and a withdrawal going on and what the apostle had taken on himself, they felt depressed, almost to the point of death.”23
Mutiny was in the air. The fragile solidarity that had united the pilgrims throughout this dangerous expedition was shattered and the deep rifts that had always existed within the ummah became suddenly apparent. ‘Umar leapt to his feet and strode over to Abu Bakr. “Are we not Muslims and they polytheists?” he demanded. “Why should we agree to what is demeaning to our religion?”24 Abu Bakr was also disturbed, but managed to reply that, in spite of everything, he still had faith in the Prophet. Later ‘Umar said that if he could have found a hundred companions to follow him, he would have defected. At this point, he could not share Muhammad’s vision.25 Like many of the Medinese Muslims and those Emigrants who came from the more peripheral, disadvantaged Qurayshan clans, he did not want merely to reform the social order of Mecca but to overthrow it and replace it with a purely Qur’anic regime. ‘Umar was courageous, unselfish, and passionately committed to the ideals of justice and equity, which had been so lacking in the Meccan polity. But he was not a man of hilm and was still fired by the fierce impetuosity of jahiliyyah. He did not understand that the values of gentleness and nonviolence were also central to the Islamic ideal. He was a man of action, prone to reach, jahili-like, for his sword without thinking matters through.26 Faced with Muhammad’s apparent about-face at Hudaybiyyah, he was bewildered and confused.
After defeating the Quraysh at the Battle of the Trench, the obvious plan would have been to press on and destroy them unilaterally. But this had never been Muhammad’s intention. The downfall of Mecca would be an inconceivable catastrophe for Arabia, a backward region that sorely needed the commercial genius of the Quraysh, who would never see the point of Islam while the war continued to fuel destructive anger and hatred on both sides. By abandoning the economic blockade, Muhammad hoped to win them over. He could see further than anybody else at Hudaybiyyah. Far from caving in weakly, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was moving toward an unprecedented political and religious solution for the Arabs, and that meant that he could never do the expected thing, because that would bind him to the unhappy status quo.
When he looked at the stunned, miserable faces of the pilgrims, Muhammad had to tell them that they must accept the terms of the treaty because Allah had dictated them. This did not satisfy the rank and file, who had expected some kind of miracle, and it was intensely disappointing to the Hypocrites, who had joined the ummah simply for worldly gain. The atmosphere became even more strained when the Muslims heard the wording of the treaty. Muhammad summoned ‘Ali to write to his dictation, and when he began with the usual Muslim formula—“In the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful”—Suhayl objected. The Quraysh had always found these attributes of Allah somewhat feeble, so he insisted that Muhammad begin with the more conventional formula: “In thy name, O Allah.” To the horror of the Muslims, Muhammad agreed without demur. Worse was to follow. Muhammad continued: “This is the treaty that Muhammad, the Messenger of Allah, has agreed with Suhayl ibn ‘Amr.” Again Suhayl interrupted. If he had believed that Muhammad was God’s prophet, he argued, reasonably enough, he would not have fought him all these years. He asked that Muhammad simply use his own name and that of his father in the usual way. ‘Ali had already written down the words “the Messenger of God” and told Muhammad that he simply could not bring himself to excise them, so the Prophet held out his hand for the pen, asked ‘Ali to point to the words on the parchment, and crossed them out himself. He continued: “This is what Muhammad ibn ‘Abdullah has agreed with Suhayl ibn ‘Amr.”27
At this extremely difficult juncture, just as the treaty was being signed, Suhayl’s son, Abu Jandal, burst onto the scene. He had converted to Islam, but Suhayl had locked him up in the family home in order to prevent him making the hijrah to Medina. Now, however, he had managed to escape and arrived triumphantly to join the Muslims at Hudaybiyyah, dragging his fetters behind him. Suhayl smashed his fist into his son’s face, grabbed his chains, and turned to Muhammad. Would he keep his word and return this renegade to his lawful guardian? Muhammad did not falter, even though Abu Jandal screamed in anguish as Suhayl dragged him back to Mecca: “Am I to be returned to the polytheists that they may entice me from my religion, O Muslims?” With classic understatement, Ibn Ishaq remarks: “That increased the people’s dejection.”28
This was the last straw for ‘Umar. Yet again, he jumped to his feet and yelled at the man he had followed so loyally for twelve years. Was he not God’s messenger? Were not the Muslims right and their enemies wrong? Had not Muhammad assured them that they would pray again at the Kabah? This was all true, Muhammad replied mildly, but had he promised that they would return to the Haram this year? ‘Umar remained grimly silent, so Muhammad continued firmly: “I am God’s messenger. I will not go against his commandments and he will not make me the loser.”29 Even though he was bitterly perplexed, ‘Umar subsided and reluctantly put his hand to the treaty. But the pilgrims were still furious and there was a dangerous moment when they seemed about to rebel. Muhammad announced that, even though they had not reached the Kabah, they would complete the pilgrimage right there at Hudaybiyyah: the Muslims must shave their heads and sacrifice their camels, just as they would if they were in the heart of Mecca. There was absolute silence, and the pilgrims stared grimly back at Muhammad, tacitly refusing to obey. In despair, the Prophet retreated to his tent. What on earth could he do? he asked Umm Salamah. She judged the situation perfectly. Muhammad should go out and, without uttering another word, sacrifice the camel that he had consecrated to Allah. It was exactly the right decision. The spectacular bloodletting broke through the torpor of depression, and immediately the men fell over themselves to sacrifice their own camels and shaved each other’s heads with such zeal that Umm Salamah said later that she thought they would inflict mortal wounds in their pious frenzy.
The pilgrims started home in a lighter mood, but some anger remained and the Prophet himself seemed distant and preoccupied. ‘Umar was afraid that his defiance had irreparably damaged their friendship, and his heart sank when he was summoned to join Muhammad at the head of the party. But to his intense relief, he found him looking radiant, as though a great weight had fallen from his shoulders. “A surah has descended upon me, which is dearer to me than anything under the sun,” he told ‘Umar.30 This was Al-Fatah, the Surah of Victory. It laid bare the deeper meaning of the events of Hudaybiyyah and began with a luminous assurance that Muhammad had not suffered a diplomatic defeat there but that God had given him “a manifest victory.” He had sent down his sakinah, the spirit of peace and tranquillity, which had entered the hearts of the Muslims; they had made a courageous act of faith when they had agreed to accompany Muhammad on this perilous expedition—showing a commitment that had been beyond the Bedouin. They had shown their faith and trust again when they had sworn the Oath of Good Pleasure. Finally, the treaty that Muhammad had made with Mecca was a “sign,” an ayah, which revealed God’s presence.
The victory at Hudaybiyyah had distinguished the Muslims from the Quraysh, who had shown throughout the day that they were still in thrall to the overbearing haughtiness and intransigence of the jahiliyyah, a stubborn resistance to anything that might injure their sense of honor or their traditional way of life. They had even been ready to massacre the innocent unarmed pilgrims rather than accept the “humiliation” of admitting them to the Haram.
When in the hearts of those who persist in unbelief arose the characteristic arrogance, the arrogance of jahiliyyah, then God sent down his peace of soul (sakinah) upon His Messenger and upon the believers, and imposed upon them the formula of self-restraint (hilm), for that was most befitting to them and they were most suited for that.31
Muslims were not supposed to be men of war; they were characterized by the spirit of hilm, a peace and forbearance that allied them with the Jews and Christians, the People of the Book. Instead of posturing aggressively as the Quraysh had done at Hudaybiyyah, the true followers of Allah prostrated themselves humbly before God in prayer:
Thou seest them bowing, prostrating, seeking bounty from God and good pleasure. Their mark is on their faces, the trace of prostration. That is their likeness in the Torah, and their likeness in the Gospel.
It was not violence and self-assertion, but the spirit of mercy, courtesy and tranquillity that would cause the ummah to grow, “as a seed that puts forth its shoot and strengthens it and it grows stout and raises straight upon its stalk, pleasing the owners.”32 The war was over; it was now time for a holy peace.
In fact the struggle would continue, but the sources agree that Hudaybiyyah was a watershed. “No previous victory (fatah) was greater than this,” Ibn Ishaq believed. The root meaning of FTH was “opening;” the truce had looked unpromising at first, but it opened new doors for Islam. Hitherto nobody had been able to sit down and discuss the new religion in a rational manner, because of the constant fighting and escalating hatred. But now “when there was an armistice and men met in safety and consulted together, none talked about Islam intelligently without entering it.” Indeed, between 628 and 630, “double as many or more than double as many entered Islam as ever before.”33 The short lyrical surah An-Nasr (“Help”) may have been composed at this time:
When the help of God arrived
and the opening (fatah)
and you saw people joining the religion of God in waves
Recite the praise of your Lord
and say God forgive
He is the always forgiving.34
There was to be no triumphalism, no cry for vengeance. The new era must be characterized by gratitude, forgiveness, and an acknowledgement of the Muslims’ own culpability.
Hudaybiyyah may have improved the position of Islam in the peninsula as a whole, but, like other recent advances, it did little for Muhammad’s standing in Medina. Many of the pilgrims— Helpers and Emigrants alike—continued to feel cheated and resentful. How, the Emigrants asked, were they supposed to earn a living if they could no longer attack the Meccan caravans? Muhammad knew that he could not allow this discontent to fester; somehow he had to find a way of compensating them without damaging the truce, so after Hudaybiyyah, he directed the Muslims’ attention to the north, away from Mecca. Khaybar—the new home of the exiled Jewish tribe of Nadir—was still a danger. The leaders of the settlement continued to stir up hostility to Muhammad among the northern tribes, so shortly after his return from Hudaybiyyah, he set off to besiege the city with an army of six hundred men. When the Quraysh heard the news, they were jubilant, certain that the Muslims would be defeated. Surrounded, like Medina, with plains of volcanic rock and defended by seven large fortresses, Khaybar was thought to be impregnable. But the Muslims were able to benefit from the internal strife that signalled the decline of the tribal spirit in Khaybar, as it had in Medina. Each of the tribes of Khaybar was autonomous, and they found it impossible to cooperate effectively during the siege. To add to their troubles, the tribes of Ghatafan, whose support they had been expecting, failed to show up, so after a month the Jewish elders asked for peace and became vassals of Medina. To seal the agreement, Muhammad took the daughter of his old enemy Huyay, chief of Nadir, as his wife. The beautiful seventeen-year-old Safiyyah was happy to enter Islam, and Muhammad gave stern orders that there were to be no unkind remarks about her father, who had died during the siege. He told Safiyyah that if any of his other wives taunted her about her Jewish ancestry, she should reply: “My father is Aaron and my uncle is Moses.”35 The marriage expressed the attitude of reconciliation and forgiveness that he was trying to promote; it was time to lay aside the hatred and bloodshed of the past.
On his return from Khaybar, Muhammad enjoyed a joyful family reunion. After Hudaybiyyah, he had sent a message to the Muslim exiles still resident in Abyssinia, inviting them to return now that the situation in Arabia had improved, and when he returned home, his cousin Ja‘far, Abu Talib’s son, whom he had not seen for thirteen years, was waiting for him in Medina. He also greeted yet another new wife. Earlier that year, he had learned that his cousin ‘Ubaydallah ibn Jahsh had died in Abyssinia, and decided to marry his wife Ramlah, usually known by her kunya, Umm Habibah. The ceremony was performed by proxy before the Negus, and an apartment had already been prepared for her in the mosque. This was another shrewd political move, because Umm Habibah was the daughter of Abu Sufyan.
The rest of the year was spent in routine raiding, some of which was undertaken at the request of his new Jewish allies in the north. Then in March 629, the month of the hajj, it was time for Muhammad to lead another pilgrimage to the Kabah. This time 2,600 pilgrims accompanied him, and as they approached the sanctuary, the Quraysh evacuated the city, as they had agreed. The Qurayshan elders watched the arrival of Muhammad from the top of a nearby mountain. The sound of the Muslims loudly announcing their presence with the traditional cry: “Here I am, O Allah! Here I am!” must have echoed through the valleys and empty streets of the city like a cruel taunt. But they must also have been impressed by the discipline of the Muslims. There were no scenes of unbridled joy or unseemly celebrations; no jeering at the Quraysh. Instead, the huge crowd of pilgrims filed slowly and solemnly into the city, led by Muhammad, who as usual was mounted on Qaswa’. When he reached the Kabah, he dismounted and kissed the Black Stone, embracing it, and then proceeded to make the circumambulations, followed by the entire pilgrim body. It was a strange homecoming. The Emigrants must have felt highly emotional about their return, and yet, although the city was a ghost town, they were not free to do as they pleased. It had been settled at Hudaybiyyah that this year the Muslims could only make the Lesser Pilgrimage, the umrah, which did not include a visit to Mount ‘Arafat and the valley of Mina.
In temporary exile from their city, the Quraysh had to watch—no doubt appalled—as Bilal, a former slave, climbed onto the roof of the Kabah and summoned the Muslims to prayer. Three times a day, his huge voice reverberated through the valley, urging all within earshot to come to salat with the cry “Allahu Akhbar,” reminding them that Allah was “greater” than all the idols in the Haram, who could do nothing to prevent this ritual humiliation. It was an immense triumph for Muhammad, and many of the younger Quraysh became even more convinced that the old religion was doomed.
On his last evening in the city, Muhammad enjoyed another family reunion when his uncle ‘Abbas, who still adhered to the old religion, was allowed to enter the city to visit his nephew and offer him the hand of his sister Maymunah, who had been recently widowed. Muhammad accepted, doubtless hoping to entice ‘Abbas himself into Islam, and mischievously sent word to the Quraysh to invite them to the wedding. This was pushing things too far, and Suhayl came down to inform Muhammad that his three days were up and he should leave immediately. Sa‘d ibn ‘Ubadah, a chief of Khazraj who was with the Prophet at the time, was furious at this apparent discourtesy, but Muhammad quickly silenced him: “O Sa‘d, no ill words to those who have come to visit us in our camp.”36 To the astonishment of the Quraysh, the entire pilgrim throng left the city that night in good order. There were no loud protests, no attempt to repossess their old homes. In their peaceful withdrawal, the Muslims showed the confidence of those who expected a speedy return.
The story of this strange pilgrimage spread rapidly, and more and more of the Bedouin came to Medina to become Muhammad’s confederates. Of even greater significance was the steady stream of the younger generation of the Quraysh who converted to Islam. At Hudaybiyyah, Muhammad had promised to return new converts to Mecca, but he had been able to find a loophole that enabled him to overcome this condition on a technicality. First, the treaty had said nothing about the handing back of women converts, so shortly after Hudaybiyyah, Muhammad had received ‘Uthman’s half-sister into the ummah and allowed her to remain. He did, however, return Abu Basir, an impetuous young man, and dispatched him to Mecca with a Qurayshan envoy. But during the journey, Abu Basir killed his escort, and when Muhammad sent him away again, set up camp on the Red Sea coast near the trade route, where he was joined by seventy other young Meccan malcontents. These would-be Muslims became highwaymen, attacking every single Meccan caravan that came within their range, and the Quraysh discovered that the economic blockade had been partially reinstated. Eventually they were forced to beg Muhammad to admit the young men into Medina and to make them abide by the treaty.
So the ban on accepting converts became a dead letter, and in 629 a steady stream of new Muslims arrived in Medina. They included the young warriors ‘Amr ibn al-‘As and Khalid ibn al-Walid, who had been convinced by Muhammad’s success. “The way has become clear,” Khalid said, “the man is certainly a prophet.”37 He was afraid of reprisals, since he and ‘Amr had both killed many Muslims at the battles of Uhud and the Trench, but Muhammad assured them that the act of islam wiped out old debts and represented an entirely new start.
In this year of political triumph, Muhammad had a private joy. None of the women he had married in Medina had borne him any children, but the governor of Alexandria in Egypt had sent him a beautiful, curly-haired slave girl as a gift. Maryam was a Christian and did not wish to convert to Islam, but she became Muhammad’s saraya, a wife who retained the status of a slave but whose children would be free. Muhammad grew very fond of her, and was overjoyed when at the end of 629 she became pregnant. He named their son Ibrahim, and loved carrying him around Medina, inviting all passers-by to praise the baby’s beautiful complexion and his likeness to himself. However, sorrow came along with joy. Muhammad’s daughter Zaynab had died shortly after he made the Lesser Pilgrimage, and later that year he lost two members of his family in a disastrous expedition to the Syrian border. We know very little about this ill-fated campaign. Muhammad may have wanted to bring the Christian Arab tribes there into the ummah as confederates, on the same basis as the Jewish tribes of Khaybar. At all events, he dispatched Zayd and his cousin Ja‘far to the north at the head of an army of three thousand men. At the village of Mu’tah near the Dead Sea the Muslims were attacked by a detachment of Byzantines. Zayd, Ja‘far, and ten other Muslims were killed and Khalid, who had also accompanied the expedition, decided to bring the troops home.
When Muhammad heard the news, he went directly to Ja‘far’s house, distraught to think that he had brought his dear cousin home to his death. Asma’, Ja‘far’s wife, was baking bread, and as soon as she saw the expression on Muhammad’s face, she knew that something terrible had happened. Muhammad asked to see their two sons, knelt down beside the little boys, hugged them close and wept. Immediately Asma’ began to lament in the traditional Arab way, the women hurried to her, and Muhammad asked them to make sure to bring the family food during the next few days. As he walked through the streets to the mosque, Zayd’s little girl ran out of their house and threw herself into his arms. Muhammad picked her up and stood there in the street, rocking her and weeping convulsively.
The defeat at Mu’tah had further jeopardized Muhammad’s position in Medina. When Khalid brought the army home, he and his men were booed and hissed, and Muhammad had to take Khalid under his personal protection. But in November 629, the situation in Arabia changed dramatically: the Quraysh broke the treaty of Hudaybiyyah. Aided and abetted by some of the Quraysh, the tribe of Bakr, one of their Bedouin allies, made a surprise attack on the tribe of Khuza’ah, which had joined Muhammad’s confederacy. Khuza’ah promptly asked Muhammad for help and the Quraysh woke up to the fact that they had given Muhammad a perfect excuse to attack Mecca. Safwan and ‘Ikrimah remained defiant, but Suhayl was beginning to have second thoughts. Abu Sufyan, however, went further and arrived in Medina on a peace initiative.
At this point, Abu Sufyan had no desire to convert to Islam, but he had realized for some time that the tide had turned in favor of Muhammad and that the Quraysh must try to get the best deal they could. In Medina he visited his daughter Umm Habibah, and sat in conference with some of Muhammad’s closest companions, trying to find a way of distancing himself from the dispute. Then he returned to Mecca, where he tried to prepare his fellow-tribesmen to accept the inevitable. After his departure, Muhammad began to plan a new campaign.
On 10 Ramadan ( January 630), Muhammad set out at the head of the largest force ever to leave Medina. Nearly all the men in the ummah had volunteered and along the road their Bedouin allies joined forces with the Muslims, bringing the numbers up to ten thousand men. For security reasons, the destination of the expedition remained secret, but there was naturally a good deal of excited speculation. Certainly Mecca was a possibility, but Muhammad could just as easily have been heading for Ta’if, which was still implacably hostile to Islam, so the southern tribe of Hawazin started to assemble a massive army there. In Mecca, the Qurayshan leaders feared the worst. ‘Abbas, Abu Sufyan, and Budayl, chief of Khuza’ah, all made their way under cover of night to the Muslim camp. There Muhammad received them and asked Abu Sufyan if he was ready to accept Islam. Abu Sufyan replied that even though he now believed that Allah was the only God—the idols had proved to be useless—he still had doubts about Muhammad’s prophethood. But he was shocked and impressed when he watched all the members of the massive army prostrating themselves in the direction of Mecca during the morning prayer, and when he saw the various tribes marching past on their way to the city, he knew that the Quraysh must surrender.
He hurried back to Mecca and summoned the people by crying at the top of his voice: “O Quraysh, this is Muhammad who has come to you with a force you cannot resist!” He then offered them an option that had been suggested to him by ‘Ali during his visit to Medina. Anybody who wanted to surrender should put himself under his personal protection: Muhammad had agreed to honor this. They should either take sanctuary in his home or remain in their own houses. Hind, his wife, was beside herself with rage; seizing him by his moustaches, she yelled to the townspeople: “Kill this fat greasy bladder of lard! What a rotten protector of his people!” But Abu Sufyan begged them not to listen. He described what he had seen in the Muslim camp. The time for such defiance was over. His grim sobriety impressed most of the Quraysh. Pragmatic to the last, they barricaded themselves into their houses as a token of surrender.
A few wanted to fight, however. ‘Ikrimah, Safwan, and Suhayl gathered a small force and tried to attack Khalid’s section of the army as it approached the city, but they were quickly beaten. Safwan and ‘Ikrimah fled, thinking their lives were at stake; Suhayl laid down his arms, and retired to his home. The rest of the Muslim army entered Mecca without striking a single blow. Muhammad had his red tent pitched near the Kabah and there he joined Umm Salamah and Maymunah, the two Qurayshi wives who had accompanied him, together with ‘Ali and Fatima. Shortly after they had settled, ‘Ali’s sister Umm Hani’ arrived to plead for the lives of two of her relatives who had taken part in the fighting. Even though ‘Ali and Fatima wanted them executed, Muhammad immediately promised that they would be safe. He had no desire for bloody reprisals. Nobody was made to accept Islam nor do they seem to have felt any pressure to do so. Reconciliation was still Muhammad’s objective.
After he had slept for a while, he rose, and performed the morning prayer. Then, mounted on Qaswa’, he rode round the Kabah seven times, crying “Allahu Akhbar!” The shout was taken up by the troops and soon the words rang through the entire city, signalling the final victory of Islam. Next Muhammad turned his attention to the idols of the Haram; crowded onto their roofs and balconies, the Quraysh watched him smash each stone effigy while he recited the verse: “The truth has come, and falsehood has vanished away; surely falsehood is certain to vanish.”38 Inside the Kabah, the walls had been decorated with pictures of the pagan deities, and Muhammad ordered them all to be obliterated, though, it is said, he allowed frescoes of Jesus and Mary to remain.
By this time, some of the Quraysh had ventured forth from their houses and made their way to the Kabah, waiting for Muhammad to leave the shrine. He stood in front of the house of Allah and begged them to lay aside the arrogance and self-sufficiency of jahiliyyah, which had created only conflict and injustice. “O Quraysh,” he cried, “Behold God has removed from you the arrogance of jahiliyyah with its boast of ancestral glories. Man is simply a God-conscious believer or an unfortunate sinner. All people are children of Adam, and Adam was created out of dust.”39 Finally Muhammad quoted the words that God had spoken to the whole of humanity:
Behold, we have created you all out of a male or a female, and have made you into nations and tribes, so that you may come to know one another. Verily, the noblest of you in the sight of God is the one who is most deeply conscious of him. Behold God is all-knowing, all-aware.40
The true karim was no longer an aggressive chauvinist, but was filled with reverent fear. The purpose of the tribe and the nation was no longer to exalt its superiority; they must not seek to dominate, exploit, convert, conquer, or destroy other peoples, but get to know them. The experience of living in a group, coexisting with people—some of whom, despite their kinship, would inevitably be uncongenial—should prepare the tribesman or the patriot for the encounter with foreigners. It should lead to an appreciation of the unity of the human race. Muhammad had managed to redefine the concept of nobility in Arabia, replacing it with a more universal, compassionate, and self-effacing ideal.
But were the Quraysh ready for this? Muhammad issued a general amnesty. Only about ten people were put on the Black List; they included ‘Ikrimah (but not Safwan, for some reason), and those who had spread anti-Muslim propaganda or injured the Prophet’s family. Some of these miscreants asked for pardon, however, and they seem to have been spared. After his speech beside the Kabah, Muhammad withdrew to Mount Safa and invited the people of Mecca to swear fealty. One by one, the Quraysh filed up to Muhammad, who sat flanked by ‘Umar and Abu Bakr. One of the women who came before him was Hind, Abu Sufyan’s wife, who was on the Black List for her mutilation of Hamzah’s body after the battle of Uhud. She remained defiant. “Forgive me what is past,” she said, with no hint of apology, “and God will forgive you!” Muhammad asked her if she would undertake not to commit adultery, theft, or infanticide. Would she promise not to kill her children? To this Hind replied: “I brought them up when they were little, but you killed them on the day of Badr when they were grown up.” Muhammad tacitly conceded the point.41 Hind decided to convert to Islam, telling Muhammad that he could not continue to proceed against her now that she was a professing Muslim. The Prophet smiled and told her that of course she was free. Soon, Hind would see her husband and sons given important office in the ummah as a reward for Abu Sufyan’s cooperation.
Relatives of Safwan and ‘Ikrimah begged for their lives; Muhammad promised that, if they accepted his leadership, they were free to enter Mecca. Both decided to return and ‘Ikrimah was the first to accept Islam. Muhammad greeted him affectionately and forbade anybody to vilify his father, Abu Jahl. Safwan and Suhayl both swore fealty to Muhammad but could not yet make the Muslim profession of faith—though they changed their minds a few days later.
Once Muhammad had secured the city, he had to deal with the tribes of Hawazin and Thaqif, who had mustered an army of twenty thousand men at nearby Ta’if. Muhammad managed to defeat them at the battle of Hunayn at the end of January 630 and the Hawazin joined Muhammad’s confederacy. The Muslims were not able to take Ta’if itself, but the city became so isolated through the loss of its chief Bedouin ally that it was forced to capitulate a year later. When he divided the booty after his victory at Hunayn, Muhammad gave Abu Sufyan, Suhayl, and Safwan the lion’s share. Safwan was so overcome that he instantly made his surrender. “I bear witness that no soul could have such goodness as this, if it were not the soul of the Prophet,” he cried. “I bear witness that there is no god but Allah and that you are his Messenger.”42 Suhayl followed his example.
Some of the Helpers were offended by this apparent favoritism. Did it mean that Muhammad would abandon them, now that he had been reunited with his own tribe? Muhammad instantly reassured them by making a moving speech, which reduced many of them to tears. He would never forget their generosity to him while he was a mere refugee, and promised that—far from settling in Mecca—he would make Medina his home for the rest of his life. “Are you not satisfied that other men should take away flocks and herds while you take back with you the apostle of God?” he asked. “If all men went one way and the Helpers another, I should take the way of the Helpers. God have mercy on the Helpers, their sons and their sons’ sons.”43
It was a strange conquest, and an impartial observer might have wondered why the Muslims and the Quraysh had fought at all.44 Muhammad kept his word and returned to Medina with the Emigrants and Helpers. He did not attempt to rule Mecca himself; nor did he replace the Qurayshan officials with his own companions; nor did he establish a purist Islamic regime. All former dignitaries kept their positions in the Haram, and the assembly and the status quo remained intact. His most hated enemies were not only reinstated but promoted and showered with gifts. When Muhammad was about to reassign the most prestigious function of the Haram—that of providing water to the pilgrims—to the notable who had just given him the keys of the Kabah, Muhammad asked him: “You can surely see now that this key is in my hand, that I can assign it to whomever I want?” The notable, thinking that the office would now go to one of the Muslims, cried in anguish: “Then, the glory and might of Quraysh is gone!” Muhammad promptly replied, as he handed back the key: “To the contrary, today it is entrenched and glorious!”45
Muhammad’s work was almost done. After his return home, the opposition in Ibn Ubayy’s camp continued. There was yet another plot to assassinate Muhammad, who tried to woo his enemies by dispatching more lucrative expeditions to the north. In October 631,he became aware that a mosque in Medina had become a center of disaffection, so he was forced to destroy it. The following morning he held an inquiry into the conduct of the people who had been plotting against him; they hastily apologized. Most offered plausible excuses and were pardoned, though three were formally shunned by the ummah for nearly two months. This seems to have finished the Muslim opposition. Not long after this capitulation, Ibn Ubayy died, and Muhammad stood beside the grave of his old adversary as a mark of respect. He had finally managed to create a viable, united society in Medina, and more and more of the Bedouin were prepared to accept his political supremacy, even though they were not committed to his religious vision. In ten short years since the hijrah, Muhammad had irrevocably changed the political and spiritual landscape of Arabia.
However, he was visibly failing, and by the beginning of 632,increasingly conscious that he was approaching the end of his life. He was immensely distressed when his baby son Ibrahim died, and he wept bitterly, though he was certain that he would soon be with him in Paradise. But when the traditional month for the hajj approached, he announced that he would lead the pilgrimage and set out at the end of February with all his wives and a huge crowd of hajjis, arriving outside Mecca in early March. He led the Muslims through the rituals that were so dear to the hearts of the Arabs, giving them a new significance. Instead of being reunited with their tribal deities, the Muslims were to gather round the “house”—the Kabah—built by their ancestors Abraham and Ishmael. When they ran seven times between Safa and Marwah, Muhammad instructed the pilgrims to remember the distress of Hagar, Ishmael’s mother, when, after Abraham had abandoned them in the wilderness, she had run frantically to and fro in search of water for her baby. God had saved them by causing the spring of Zamzam to well up from the depths of the earth. Next the pilgrims recalled their unity with the rest of humanity, when they made a standing vigil on the slopes of Mount ‘Arafat, where, it was said, God had made a covenant with Adam, the father of the entire human race. At Mina, they threw stones at the three pillars as a reminder of the constant struggle (jihad) with temptation that a godly life required. Finally, they sacrificed a sheep, in memory of the sheep Abraham sacrificed after he had offered his own son to God.
Today the mosque of Namira stands near Mount ‘Arafat on the spot where Muhammad preached his farewell sermon to the Muslim community. He reminded them to deal justly with one another, to treat women kindly, and to abandon the blood feuds and vendettas inspired by the spirit of jahiliyyah. Muslim must never fight against Muslim. “Know that every Muslim is a Muslim’s brother, and that the Muslims are brethren. It is only lawful to take from a brother what he gives you willingly, so wrong not yourselves,” Muhammad concluded, “O God, have I not told you?” There was pathos in this last appeal. Muhammad knew that despite his repeated admonitions, not all Muslims fully understood his vision. Standing before them for what he knew would probably be the last time, he may have wondered whether all his efforts had been in vain. “O people,” he cried suddenly, “have I faithfully delivered my message to you?” There was a powerful murmur of assent from the assembled crowd: “O God, yes!” (Allahumma na‘m!) In a touchingly human plea for reassurance, Muhammad asked the same question again—and again; and each time the words “Allahumma na‘m” rumbled through the valley like thunder. Muhammad raised his forefinger to the heavens, and said: “O Allah, bear witness.”46
When he returned to Medina, Muhammad began to experience incapacitating headaches and fainting attacks, but he never retired permanently to bed. He would often wrap a cloth around his aching temples and go to the mosque to lead the prayers or to address the people. One morning, he seemed to pray for an especially long time in honor of the Muslims who had died at Uhud and added: “God has given one of his servants the choice between this world and that which is with God, and he has chosen the latter.” The only person who seems to have understood this reference to his imminent death was Abu Bakr, who began to weep bitterly. “Gently, gently, Abu Bakr,” Muhammad said tenderly.47
Eventually Muhammad collapsed in the apartment of Maymunah. His wives hung lovingly over him, and noticed that he kept asking: “Where shall I be tomorrow? Where shall I be tomorrow?” and they realized that he wanted to know when he could be with ‘A’isha. They agreed that he should be moved to her hut and nursed there. Muhammad lay quietly with his head in ‘A’isha’s lap, but people seemed to have believed that he was merely suffering from a temporary indisposition. Even though Abu Bakr repeatedly warned them that the Prophet was not long for this world, the community was in denial. When he became too ill to go to the mosque, he asked Abu Bakr to lead the prayers for him, but still he would sometimes attend salat, sitting quietly beside Abu Bakr even though he was too weak to recite the words himself.
On 12 Rabi ( June 8, 632), Abu Bakr noticed during prayers that the people were distracted, and knew at once that Muhammad must have entered the mosque. He looked much better. Indeed, somebody said that they had never seen him so radiant, and a wave of joy and relief swept through the congregation. Abu Bakr instantly made ready to stand down, but Muhammad put his hands on his shoulders, pushed him gently back to the head of the community and sat down next to him until the service was over. Afterwards he went back to ‘A’isha’s hut and lay peacefully in her lap. He seemed so much improved that Abu Bakr asked leave to visit his wife, who lived on the other side of Medina. During the afternoon, ‘Ali and ‘Abbas both looked in and spread the good news that Muhammad was on the mend. As evening approached, ‘A’isha felt him leaning more heavily against her than before, and he seemed to be losing consciousness. Still, she did not realize what was happening. As she said later, “It was due to my ignorance and extreme youth that the Prophet died in my arms.” She heard him murmur the words: “Nay, the most Exalted Companion in Paradise”—Gabriel had come to fetch him.48 Looking down, ‘A’isha discovered that he had gone. Carefully she laid his head on the pillow and began to beat her breast, slap her face, and cry aloud in the traditional way.
When the people heard the women lamenting the dead, they hurried ashen-faced to the mosque. The news travelled quickly through the oasis and Abu Bakr hurried back to the city. He took one look at Muhammad, kissed his face, and bade him farewell. In the mosque, he found ‘Umar addressing the crowds. ‘Umar absolutely refused to believe that the Prophet was dead: his soul had just left his body temporarily, he argued, and he would certainly return to his people. He would be the last of them all to die. The hysteria in ‘Umar’s compulsive harangue must have been evident, because Abu Bakr murmured “Gently, ‘Umar.” But ‘Umar simply could not stop talking. All that Abu Bakr could do was step forward quietly and his composure must have impressed the people, because they gradually stopped listening to ‘Umar’s tirade and clustered around him.
Abu Bakr reminded them that Muhammad had dedicated his life to the preaching of tawhid, the unity of God. How could they possibly imagine that he was immortal? That would be tantamount to saying that he was divine—a second god. Constantly, Muhammad had warned them against honoring him in the same way as Christians venerated Jesus: He was a mere mortal, no different from anybody else. To refuse to admit that Muhammad had died was, therefore, to deny his message. But as long as Muslims remained true to the belief that God alone was worthy of worship, Muhammad would live on in their minds. “O people, if anyone worships Muhammad, Muhammad is dead,” he ended firmly. “If anyone worships God, God is alive, immortal.”49 Finally, he recited the verse that had been revealed to Muhammad after the battle of Uhud, when many of the Muslims had been shocked by the false rumor of his death: “Muhammad is naught but a Messenger; Messengers have passed away before him. Why, if he should die or is slain, will you turn upon your heels? If any man should turn about upon his heels, he will not harm God in any way; and God will recompense the thankful.”50 The verses made such an impact on the people that it was as though they were hearing them for the first time. ‘Umar was completely overcome. “By God, when I heard Abu Bakr recite those words I was dumbfounded, so that my legs would not bear me and I fell to the ground knowing that the apostle was indeed dead.”51
Muhammad had been as controversial in his dying as in his living. Very few of his followers had comprehended the full significance of his prophetic career. These fissures within the community had surfaced at Hudaybiyyah, when most of the pilgrims seem to have expected something miraculous to occur. People came to Islam for very different reasons. Many were devoted to the ideal of social justice, but not to Muhammad’s ideal of nonviolence and reconciliation. The rebellious young highwaymen, who followed Abu Basir, had an entirely different agenda from the Prophet. The Bedouin tribesmen, who had not volunteered for the pilgrimage in 628, had a political rather than a religious commitment to Islam. From the very beginning, Islam was never a monolithic entity.
There is nothing surprising about this lack of unity. In the gospels, Jesus’s disciples are often presented as obtuse and blind to the deeper aspect of his mission. Paradigmatic figures are usually so far ahead of their time that their contemporaries fail to understand them, and, after their deaths, the movement splinters—as Buddhism divided into Hinayana and Mahayana schools not long after the death of Siddhatta Gotama. In Islam, too, the divisions that had split the ummah during the Prophet’s lifetime became even clearer after his death. Many of the Bedouin, who had never fully comprehended the religious message of the Qur’an, believed that Islam had died with Muhammad and felt free to secede from the ummah in the same way as they would renege on any treaty with a deceased chieftain. After the Prophet’s death, the community was lead by his kalifa, his “successor.” The first four caliphs were elected by the people: Abu Bakr, ‘Umar, ‘Uthman and ‘Ali, known as the “rightly guided” (rashidun) caliphs.They led wars of conquest outside Arabia, but at the time these had no religious significance. Like any statesmen or generals, the rashidun were responding to a political opportunity—the disintegration of the Persian and Byzantine empires—rather than a Qur’anic imperative. The terrible civil wars that resulted in the assassinations of ‘Umar, ‘Uthman, ‘Ali and Husayn, the Prophet’s grandson, were later given a religious significance but were simply a by-product of an extraordinarily accelerated transition from a peripheral, primitive polity to the status of a major world power.
Far more surprising than this political turbulence was the Muslims’ response. Their understanding of the Qur’an matured when they considered these disastrous events. Nearly every single major religious and literary development in Islam has had its origin in a desire to return to the original vision of the Prophet. Many were appalled by the lavish lifestyle of later caliphs, and tried to return to the austere vision of the early ummah. Mystics, theologians, historians, and jurists asked important questions. How could a society that killed its devout leaders claim to be guided by God? What kind of man should lead the ummah? Could rulers who lived in such luxury and condoned the poverty of the vast majority of the people be true Muslims?
These intense debates about the political leadership of the ummah played a role in Islam that was similar to the great Christological debates of the fourth and fifth centuries in Christianity. The ascetic spirituality of Sufism had its roots in this discontent. Sufis turned their back on the luxury of the court, and tried to live as austerely as the Prophet; they developed a mysticism modelled on his night journey and ascension to heaven. The Shi‘ah, the self-styled “party of ‘Ali”, Muhammad’s closest male relative, believed that the ummah must be led by one of ‘Ali’s direct descendants, since they alone had inherited the Prophet’s charisma. Shiis developed a piety of protest against the injustice of mainstream Muslim society and tried to return to the egalitarian spirit of the Qur’an. Yet while these and many other movements looked back to the towering figure of Muhammad, they all took the Qur’anic vision into entirely new directions, and showed that the original revelations had the flexibility to respond to unprecedented circumstances that is essential to any great world movement. From the very start, Muslims used their Prophet as a yardstick by which to challenge their politicians and to measure the spiritual health of the ummah.
This critical spirit is needed today. Some Muslim thinkers regard the jihad against Mecca as the climax of Muhammad’s career and fail to note that he eventually abjured warfare and adopted a nonviolent policy. Western critics also persist in viewing the Prophet of Islam as a man of war, and fail to see that from the very first he was opposed to the jahili arrogance and egotism that not only fuelled the aggression of his time but is much in evidence in some leaders, Western and Muslim alike, today. The Prophet, whose aim was peace and practical compassion, is becoming a symbol of division and strife—a development that is not only tragic but also dangerous to the stability on which the future of our species depends.
At the end of my first attempt to write a biography of Muhammad, I quoted the prescient words of the Canadian scholar Wilfred Cantwell Smith. Writing in the mid-twentieth century shortly before the Suez Crisis, he observed that a healthy, functioning Islam had for centuries helped Muslims cultivate decent values which we in the West share, because they spring from a common tradition. Some Muslims have problems with Western modernity. They have turned against the cultures of the People of the Book, and have even begun to Islamize their new hatred of these sister faiths, which were so powerfully endorsed by the Qur’an. Cantwell Smith argued that if they are to meet the challenge of the day, Muslims must learn to understand our Western traditions and institutions, because they are not going to disappear. If Islamic societies did not do this, he maintained, they would fail the test of the twentieth century. But he pointed out that Western people also have a problem: “an inability to recognize that they share the planet not with inferiors but with equals.”
Unless Western civilization intellectually and socially, politically and economically, and the Christian church theologically, can learn to treat other men with fundamental respect, these two in their turn will have failed to come to terms with the actualities of the twentieth century. The problems raised in this are, of course, as profound as anything that we have touched on for Islam.52
The brief history of the twenty-first century shows that neither side has mastered these lessons. If we are to avoid catastrophe, the Muslim and Western worlds must learn not merely to tolerate but to appreciate one another. A good place to start is with the figure of Muhammad: a complex man, who resists facile, ideologically-driven categorization, who sometimes did things that were difficult or impossible for us to accept, but who had profound genius and founded a religion and cultural tradition that was not based on the sword but whose name—“Islam”—signified peace and reconciliation.