I
Ancient Yathrib, commonly called Medina, was familiar to the Arabs
as “the pleasing” city, for it lay in a fertile plain teeming with
“green fields, running water, every blessing the Eastern mind can
desire.” For ages it had been inhabited by expatriated Jews; but
early in the fourth century two Arab tribes, the Aus and the Khazraj,
settled there. But the Hebrew residents were much superior to the
newcomers in general culture, in agriculture and wealth, and, it was
darkly rumored, in the black art of magic; for the Pagan usurpers
held to the primitive belief that the perfect man was one who could
write Arabic, swim and shoot--and not many of them could write
Arabic. Jealousy of the more competent Jews, therefore, impelled
the Yathribites to make war against them, and the sons of Abraham
were decidedly disinclined to battle and bloodshed. Accordingly,
having fought the Jews with very fair success, the two victorious
clans had speedily decided to fight each other, with the result
that Medina, for some generations, had been continually rent by
tribal and civil wars. At present all parties were so tired of this
everlasting strife that they had chosen one of the chief men among
the Khazraj, Abdallah ibn Obei, to direct their fortunes; for the
battle of Boath (616) had completely exhausted all the factions
involved. Nevertheless, everybody was still dissatisfied, since it
was feared that the truce was only temporary.
Now, for many centuries, despite one or two notable disappointments,
the Jews had expectantly awaited the coming of a genuine prophet--a
longing that had been communicated, probably through racial
miscegenation, even to the Aus and the Khazraj--and lo! the news of
Mohammed’s ministry was already common knowledge at Medina. When
the little troop of Medinese chanced to meet Mohammed at the sacred
fair, therefore, they spoke thus with each other: “Know surely that
this is the prophet with whom the Jews are ever threatening us;
wherefore let us make haste and be the first to join him.” For it
was clear that languishing Medina, long disrupted by internecine
struggles, needed above all else a leader capable of harmonizing all
discordant elements and balancing the scales of justice impartially
for all--except, it might be, the Jews--a leader, too, who would
introduce no dangerous foreign ideas, but whose vital beliefs were
grafted on a common Arabian stock. Perhaps there was some truth
in the saying of Mohammed’s child-wife, Ayesha, that the battle of
Boath had been engineered by Allah for the benefit of the Moslems.
So, when the Prophet thus addressed the visitors, “Sit ye down for
a little, and I will speak with you,” they gladly obeyed. After he
had explained the creed of Islam, with due emphasis upon his own
part in it, he proceeded to narrate the dangers of his position at
Mecca and next inquired what his prospects might be at Medina. They
complimented him for his exalted rank, but expressed doubt as to his
reception in their own embattled city. “If thou comest to us thus,
we may be unable to rally round thee. Let us, we pray thee, return
unto our people, if haply the Lord will create peace amongst us;
and we will come back again to thee at this set time next year.” So
the men returned to Medina and quickly scattered the news of their
marvelous encounter: would it not, they argued, be good business
to claim the services of this very self-confident Messiah before
he was appropriated by the waiting Jews, whose money-lending power
held the mass of Yathribites in abject poverty?
This counsel appeared excellent to both the Aus and the Khazraj.
After a year of troubled waiting on the part of Mohammed, his heart
was gladdened at the sight of twelve men who arrived on the appointed
day to welcome him as the anticipated saviour of Medina. This oath
was then sworn to by all: “We will not worship any but the one God;
we will not steal, neither will we commit adultery, nor kill our
children; we will not slander in anywise; nor will we disobey the
Prophet in anything that is right.” Mohammed was so swept away by
the general tone of obedience in this statement that he apparently
failed to notice the joker in the concluding clause; and thus the
First Pledge, or Pledge of Women--so called because its lack of
martial ardor made it the only vow required of female Moslems--was
made. The twelve apostles at once returned and the propagation of
the new religion was soon in full swing. At the request of the
Medinese, the Prophet sent one Musab--once a connoisseur of gaudy
clothes and delicate perfumes, but now a ragged, rampant Moslem--to
instruct them in the more intricate matters of Islam. So tremendous
was the zeal for proselytizing that the most strenuous efforts were
made to secure converts: the newly saved souls covenanted that they
would not speak to anyone who did not acknowledge the Prophet, and
all idols, as well as idol-worshipers, were treated with the utmost
severity. The salvation of one old fellow, who habitually bowed
before a horrid image in his house, was particularly affecting.
Young devotees cast the idol into a noisome well every night; but
every morning he just as regularly hauled up, cleansed it, and again
went through his genuflections. One day, however, they hitched the
vile thing to a dead dog before tossing it in the well, “whereupon
he abandoned his image and believed.” Before long new converts came
in from every side with very little persuasion; for the Medinese
were very human and, inasmuch as Islam was now all the rage, they
wanted to be in the newest style.
While Medina was buzzing with these devout activities, Mohammed was
otherwise occupied. Hemmed in by ever present dangers, and hearing
only vague reports of the conflagration that was sweeping Medina, he
was constantly on tiptoe with hopeful yet fearful expectation. If
his body was still held at Mecca, his unbridled imagination was free
to range toward the beloved north, where both Medina and Jerusalem
lay; and one morning he astounded his townsmen by declaring that,
during the preceding night, he had performed his devotions in the
Temple of Solomon at Jerusalem. The obliging Gabriel, he said, had
borne him on a winged steed over Medina to the Temple; the Arabian
Pegasus, however, did not pause long there, but continued his
celestial journey until he had carried his passengers completely
out of this world, to those ethereal realms of bliss where the
Seven Heavens lie. Up and still up they flew, while the Prophet
carefully noted the order of precedence of those prophets whose
model he had proclaimed himself to be: Jesus and John were in the
second or third--he was not _quite_ sure which--Moses was in the
sixth, while Abraham alone had the supreme distinction of residing
in the seventh. There, at the apex of indescribable glory, Mohammed
had entered the awful presence of his Maker, Who, after some rather
pointless chit-chat, charged him to see that all Moslems should
hereafter prostrate themselves in prayer toward the Temple of
Solomon five times every day. When Mohammed concluded, the Koreish
laughed him to scorn, and even a few of the faithful were somewhat
flabbergasted; but Abu Bekr saved the situation by declaring that
he did not doubt the truth of this tale, inasmuch as he had already
swallowed far more improbable yarns related by the Prophet. Yet the
veracity of his amply substantiated narrative rests upon two solid
facts: from that day to this, all devout Moslems have continued to
bow themselves five times daily in prayer; and sceptics may still
see, upon the rock where stands the Mosque of Omar in Jerusalem,
the identical print of the Prophet’s foot where he leaped upon the
heavenly charger.