For centuries before the birth of the Prophet, Mecca had been the
most populous and influential city in Arabia. She owed this eminence
to two very different things: to her geographical situation, and
to some pretty legends that sought to explain her divine origin.
In the first place, she occupied a convenient and highly strategic
position on a great caravan route. She reposed in a natural
amphitheatre, partially encompassed by precipitous hills of quartz
and granite; touching her southern border lay the pleasant plains of
Yemen, while her northern edge was overhung by the lowering rocks
of Hejaz. The never-failing well, Zemzem, that gushed from her
centre furnished an apparently inexhaustible supply of water for
the passing trains of merchandise; it became a refreshing stopping
place, and thus by degrees grew to be a focus for commerce. Crowds
of traders, coming principally from Yemen, eventually located there
and established the beginnings of a mercantile business: they
collected the frontier customs, the hire for hauling produce,
the dues arising from protection, and, in addition, they started
various types of traffic among themselves.
Orthodox Arabs, however, prefer to explain her superiority by giving
more credit to her miraculous inception than to dry economic matters.
According to them, when Hagar was expelled into the wilderness she
chanced in her wanderings to come into the vale of Mecca. Both
she and little Ishmael were almost overcome with thirst, when the
child accidentally kicked the ground in a paroxysm of passion, and
lo! a stream of pure water bubbled forth from the spot struck by
his dainty toes. When Abraham heard of this miracle he visited the
place, and, aided by his dutiful son Ishmael, now grown to manhood,
built a sacred temple and instituted definite rites of pilgrimage.
Inasmuch as the Arabs had mingled with the Hebrew race for many
generations on matters of business, it was perhaps natural enough
that they should have relied on the Jews for a superior facility
in poetical imagination as well as a superior business credit.
Whichever explanation is more plausible, there is no doubt that,
even before the beginning of the Christian era, Mecca was a
well-established mercantile city that included a sacred temple, the
Kaba, which was already a national centre of adoration. At some
early date there was instituted a carefully systematized, twofold
form of worship based upon well-tried Hebrew models: the Lesser
and Greater Pilgrimages. Devotees who were able to satisfy their
consciences by performing the ritual of the Lesser Pilgrimage only,
went about it thus: they came to Mecca, generally during the sacred
month of Rejeb, feverishly kissed the blessed Black Stone--the
most divinely hallowed rock in a country that reverenced every one
of her millions of stones--imbedded in the eastern corner of the
Kaba, sedately walked seven times around the saintly edifice, and
then marched in a more hasty manner seven times to and fro between
two spots near by, over a route which Hagar was supposed to have
trod. But the Greater Pilgrimage demanded a more strenuous faith.
Those who elected to perform its stricter stipulations could do
so only during the month of Dhul-Hijja, which was even more holy
than Rejeb; and, besides accomplishing the requirements already
specified, they were obliged to travel on foot to Arafat, a small
hill some twelve miles east of Mecca, and to struggle manfully up
its steep sides. Before entering the hallowed territory of Mecca,
the votaries of both pilgrimages donned a special raiment, and,
when all the religious activities were completed, they shaved their
heads and pared their nails.
Favored thus by nature and superstition, Mecca had grown apace. For
centuries different clans vied with each other in an effort to gain
control of her destiny--a control that was eminently desirable, for
by the fifth century Mecca was _Mecca_, in the most modern sense
of the word. The dialect spoken by her citizens had come to be
regarded as the standard of purity by which all other tribes were
judged; and pilgrims from every extraneous Arabian clan, except
the untamable Bedouins, came yearly to pay their vows and drink
from the sacred fount of Zemzem--whose waters were a bit brackish,
to be sure, but still satisfactorily sacred. During that century
a sect called the Koreish finally won a foothold that gave every
evidence of being permanent. Despite occasional bickerings among
themselves as to matters of patronage and patriarchal succession,
they always agreed when an outside enemy appeared; and successive
victories over those who vainly sought to supplant them led to
their exaltation throughout all Arabia.
Elated with the pride of successful conquest, the Koreish were
not slow to reap the fruits of power. Although the sanctity of
the holy city induced a general atmosphere of peace, forays and
brawls occasionally took place, and the Koreish merchants therefore
conceived the scheme of wearing badges that kept them moderately
safe from assault. But measures of defence soon gave way to
offence: “Let us release ourselves from some of the observances
imposed upon the multitude,” they said. So they solaced themselves
by undergoing the rites of the Lesser Pilgrimage only; they
refused to be restricted to the use of the plain butter and cheese
that formed the staple pilgrim diet; they adopted the luxury of
leathern tents instead of those made from camel-hair. Finally,
they formulated stringent rules to be observed by all pilgrims
except themselves--rules that smack more of economic pressure than
unalloyed faith. All outsiders were forbidden to bring food within
the walls of Mecca, and were forced to circumnavigate the Kaba
entirely naked or dressed in clothes that could be obtained only
from the Meccan merchants. In view of these facts, there can be
but little doubt that a prophet who would invent and promulgate a
more pure and magnanimous faith was very desirable.
[Illustration: II]