Elated at his astounding success, the Prophet occupied the following
year in consolidating his gains and extending his influence.
Meanwhile he continued to pay an exorbitant amount of homage to
Allah, the Giver of all good; but, in starting a universal espionage
system in Medina and in assuming an ever more menacing attitude
toward unbelievers and Jews, he appears to have acted solely on his
own responsibility. Nor were the Koreish idle during this year.
As time slowly mitigated their poignant suffering, their business
instincts revived and new trade routes were mapped out; the profits
that accrued therefrom were stored up against the eagerly awaited
day when a fearful retribution should be inflicted upon their
murderous kinsmen. Abu Sufyan, who was chafing under the irksome
restrictions of his vow, actually succeeded in destroying some
enemy property and in slaying two Moslems; but when he joyfully
hastened back to Mecca, under the impression that he had earned the
dissolution of his oath, he discovered much to his chagrin that Hind
did not agree with him. The Moslems, irritated because the Koreish
had gained even such a slight success, retaliated by capturing a
caravan that yielded one hundred thousand pieces of silver; yet,
when the news of this added indignity reached the Meccans, it only
steeled their already inflexible determination--the moment for a
swift and terrible vengeance had come.
Plans for a crushing campaign against the Moslems were drawn up;
and all the Koreishites strained every nerve to expedite the
martial plans and keep them secret--all of them, that is, except
Al-Abbas, who, for some inexplicable reason, still retained a
sneaking affection for the hard-hearted nephew who had forced him
to pay such a stiff ransom. So it happened that, while Mohammed was
communing with Allah in the Mosque during January, 625, a sealed
letter, conveying the dreadful news that three thousand Koreish,
including seven hundred warriors in armor and two hundred cavalry,
were ready to march upon Medina, was handed to him. Despite the
strongest efforts of the Prophet to keep this information secret,
it leaked out and caused tremendous excitement and confusion. On
this occasion, Mohammed’s perpetually-recurring dreams portended
a defeat--he imagined that his sword was broken. A public meeting
was called to discuss the ominous situation; and, according to some
authorities, the Prophet related his dream, which he interpreted
thus: “The fracture in my sword portendeth an injury to myself,”
adding that it would be wisest to remain within the fortified walls
of Medina. The elder Moslems agreed with their leader, but the
young Hotspurs arose in violent opposition: they asserted that they
would not “sit quietly here, a laughing-stock to all Arabia,” but
would “go forth and smite our foes, even as we did at Bedr.” The
headstrong impetuosity of youth prevailed, and Mohammed at length
acceded. After preaching a strong discourse, in which he assured
them, “If ye be steadfast, the Lord will grant you victory,” he
retired to his house, whence he shortly emerged dressed in helmet
and mail, with a sword hanging from his girdle. This sight deeply
distressed the Moslems, for it appeared that their commander was
at last going to risk his life on the battlefield; they therefore
begged that he would follow his first counsel and remain within
Medina’s walls. But he sternly replied: “I invited you to this and
ye would not. It becometh not a prophet, when once he hath girded
himself to the battle, to lay his armor down again until the Lord
hath decided betwixt him and his enemies. Wait, therefore, on the
Lord. Only be steadfast, and He will send you victory.”
The talismanic effect of these words was immediate, and the Moslem
army at once took to the field. It is not clear whether Abdallah
ibn Obei, at the head of three hundred unbelievers, actually joined
this army and then deserted when it was on the march; for some think
that he never joined it at all. Mohammed is represented as having
forbidden the unbelievers to assist him, saying that he did not
desire “the aid of Unbelievers to fight against the unbelieving”;
though other accounts maintain that Abdallah and his followers
sallied forth with the faithful, but deserted at first sight of the
enemy. Again, it is possible that Abdallah never manifested any
desire to fight at all--that the tales both of his reprimand and
desertion were invented by the Moslems in order to emphasize the
smallness of their force. It was small enough, at all events, for
barely seven hundred Moslems went forth to face a foe more than
four times their own number. The Koreish had meanwhile circled the
city, until they drew up for battle near the hill of Uhud, three
miles to the north; and there the army of Allah met them.
There can be little doubt that, had the plan devised by Mohammed
been followed, a victory, or at least a draw, would have been his.
Realizing that success against such overwhelming odds could be
gained only by far superior tactics and stratagems, he issued three
imperative commands. He instructed fifty sharpshooters to remain, at
all costs, on a little hill nearby, and prevent any effort of the
Koreishite cavalry to attack from the rear--“stir not from this spot;
if ye see us pursuing and plundering the enemy, join not with us;
if we be pursued and even worsted, do not venture to our aid”--he
enjoined upon his prayer-trained troops the imperious necessity of
keeping their serried lines intact; and he forbade them to advance
until he gave the order, for he rightly believed that, so long as
his force cohered, it would be impregnable. But the Prophet was
destined to learn that, once a body of men has tasted the sweets
of pillage and rapine, it is very likely not only to forget its
religious professions but to disobey its own commander. When these
admirable arrangements had been made, he cautiously donned a second
coat of armor and sedately awaited for the foe to make the first
move.
It was not long in coming. All at once the whole Koreishite force
began to advance, while a group of women, headed by the bloodthirsty
Hind and beating timbrels and drums, preceded the men and accompanied
their rude music with stirring songs that promised special favors
for the brave and threatened unbearable calamities for the timid.
“Daughters of the brave are we,
On carpets step we delicately;
Boldly advance, and we embrace you!
Turn your backs and we will shun you--
Shun you with disdain.”
Then the Meccan champions, ardently desiring to win favor in the
eyes of their martial females, rushed forth and dared individual
Moslems to engage them in the customary single combat--an invitation
that was right gladly accepted. And now the history of Bedr was
temporarily repeated, for a succession of Koreishites fell before the
superior efficiency of Allah’s favorites. At first dismayed, and then
angered, by the swift fate of their leading standard-bearers, the
Meccan force hurled itself at the Moslem array; but its inflexible
front withstood the desperate assault, while the unerring archers,
stationed on the little hill, prevented the Koreishite cavalry
from disrupting the Moslem left wing. The Meccans wavered, cracked
apart, turned irresolutely, and fled in ignominious haste, while
the jubilant Medinese, headed by their two heroes, Ali and Hamza,
bounded hotly after the pusillanimous fugitives.
But, just at this moment, the validity of Gabriel’s warning after
Bedr became manifest. Certain of their success, the Moslem ranks
broke up and began to despoil the enemy camp; and this gratifying
spectacle, which was seen by the archers, was too compelling to be
resisted. Uttering anticipatory shouts of glee, they deserted their
post and came running to join in the general fun. And then the
situation speedily changed. No longer held at bay by a withering
discharge of arrows, the Meccan cavalry whirled suddenly around
and came smashing through the Moslem rear. Among others the great
Hamza fell, mortally wounded by a javelin from the hand of a hired
assassin. Hind, whose father had been slain by Hamza at Bedr, had
bribed her Ethiopian slave, Wahshi, with the promise of freedom
should he lay Hamza low; and his body had hardly ceased to quiver
before Hind pounced savagely upon it, ripped out his liver, which
she tore to pieces with her teeth, and collected his nails and
fragments of skin to make bracelets for her arms and legs. The
Medinese, taken completely by surprise and terror-stricken at the
death of their greatest warrior, incontinently abandoned their arms
and stolen property and began to run even faster than the Koreish
had done a few moments earlier.
When Mohammed observed this calamitous reversal, he tried to rally
his fleeing forces by expostulation. “Whither away?” he shouted;
“Come back! I am the Apostle of God! Return!” But the Moslems
were much more interested just then in saving their skins than in
any number of prophets or gods; so Mohammed, for the first time
in his career, was forced to fight for his life. We learn that he
discharged arrows until his bow broke, whereupon he madly hurled
stones about, and may possibly have killed one Meccan; yet, even
in his dire extremity, he did not forget to make vehement promises
of an incomparable reward in Paradise to any Moslem who would
keep the foe off his own person. But his under lip was wounded,
one of his front teeth was broken, and a furious stroke drove his
helmet-rings into his cheek. Then, either because he was really
stunned or exceptionally clever, he fell to the ground apparently
dead, while among the Koreish the glad cry “Mohammed is slain!”
resounded far and wide. Complete confusion seized the Moslems when
they heard this appalling shout, and in their consternation they
shrieked aloud, “Where now is the promise of his Lord?” Yet this
very circumstance probably saved them from an utter rout, for the
Koreish, certain of the Prophet’s decease, believed that their main
object was attained and accordingly failed to take advantage of
the victory that lay so easily within their grasp.
For Mohammed, in fact, was still very much alive. When this
unbelievably good news spread, his confederates could not refrain
from shouting it aloud; but, aware that he was yet in great danger,
the Prophet peremptorily checked them. He was borne to a cave
near by, where an attempt was made to care for his wounds; the
helmet-rings had penetrated so deeply into his face that one poor
fellow broke two teeth in a praiseworthy attempt to pull them out.
Mohammed’s courage had now come back to such an extent that he
essayed to apostrophize his enemies thus: “How shall a people prosper
that treat thus their Prophet who calleth them unto the Lord! Let
the wrath of God burn against the men that have besprinkled the
face of His Apostle with his own blood! Let not the year pass over
them alive!” At the same time, however, he deemed it advisable to
change armor with another Moslem, in case the Koreish might come
to search for him; then, rejoining his followers outside the cave,
he glared at the Meccans retreating in the distance.
Just at this moment Abu Sufyan, who, puffed with pride, had remained
to taunt his discomfited foes, called out, “Mohammed! Abu Bekr!
Omar!” and, hearing no response, shouted, “Then all are slain, and
ye are rid of them!” This was too much for Omar to endure with
equanimity; and so, disobeying the Prophet, he bellowed: “Thou liest!
They are all alive, thou enemy of God, and will requite thee yet.”
Hearing this, Abu Sufyan twitted Omar with these words: “Then this
day shall be a return for Bedr. Fortune alternates as the bucket.
Hearken! ye will find mutilated ones upon the field; this was not
my desire, but neither am I displeased thereat. Glory to Al-Ozza!
Glory to Hubal! Al-Ozza is ours, not yours!” It was now Mohammed’s
turn to be vexed, though he wisely entrusted his retort to Omar who,
properly primed by his chief, exclaimed: “The Lord is ours; He is
not yours!” Abu Sufyan, who thought that the argument was becoming
rather childish, merely answered, “We shall meet after a year at
Bedr.” “Be it so!” growled Omar; and then Abu, together with Hind
his spouse, made haste to return home so that they might mutually
dissolve their twelve-months’ oath.
Only twenty Koreish had been slain, whereas the stark bodies of
seventy-four Moslems were stiffening on the battlefield. Thither
Mohammed now betook himself, and, upon seeing Hamza’s defiled corpse,
he tugged angrily at his beard and swore that he would treat thirty
Koreishite bodies in a similar way; but later he repented of this
remark, and indeed issued stern orders forbidding his troops ever
to mutilate a fallen enemy. The crumpled Moslem army then set out
for Medina, for it was feared that the Koreish might decide to
attack the defenseless city; but a scout soon came hastening up,
shouting aloud the cheering news that the Koreish were hurrying
southward toward Mecca. “Gently,” Mohammed mildly chided him,
“let us not appear before the people to rejoice at the departure
of the enemy!” For the Prophet was already profoundly absorbed in
meditating schemes that would enable him satisfactorily to explain
his defeat. But just now the sense of loss excluded every other
emotion from the minds of the refugees and allies--the explanations
could wait. Mingled with the ubiquitous sorrow was a feeling of
helpless insecurity: the Koreish might yet change their minds and
retrace their steps; so a watch was stationed at the Prophet’s
door, behind which he went to sleep so soundly that he failed to
obey Bilal’s indefatigable call to evening prayers. The Meccans,
however, who at this time had another easy opportunity to alter
the map of the world, had decided that they had evened matters up
with their kinsmen--and besides, they were much more interested in
starting their remunerative caravans on the march again than in
making or unmaking history.
Faced for the first time by an apparently irretrievable disaster,
Mohammed well realized that not merely were his assumptions of
sacerdotal preëminence, Allah Himself, and indeed all Islam, in
imminent danger, but that his very existence would be at stake unless
he proved able to satisfy the querulous clamors of his people and
explain just how it was that he had failed. Never did his greatness
reveal itself more splendidly than in this emergency; his every
action was planned with the utmost care. His public demonstration
of grief for Hamza, and his decision to visit the field of Uhud
once a year to bless its Moslem martyrs--where, on each occasion,
he regularly repeated the safe formula, “Peace be on you for that
which ye endured, and a blessed futurity above!”--may have been
genuine enough; at all events, such actions would be calculated to
impress his underlings with his sincerity. But mutinous murmurs
were now rampant: if Allah’s arm had brought victory at Bedr, what
was He doing on the day of Uhud? and in any case what was to be
thought of the Prophet’s multitudinous promises? Yet these apparently
unanswerable complaints were no match for Mohammed’s wily brain.
The masterful orator kept silence until the time came when, as was
customary on Friday, he made known the latest dispatches from Allah
in the Mosque.
And there he held the complainers in the hollow of his hand. The
time and the place itself, with its rude but impressive grandeur,
its venerable associations, its atmosphere of religious awe, had
been chosen with surpassing care; and, before a word had been
uttered, the audience was unconsciously in a passive, hypnotic
state. Then the Prophet, loosing every ounce of his tremendous
nervous energy, poured forth a harangue in which subtle explanations,
reproof, denunciation, self-justification, and finally mild praise
and encouragement were blended with superb artistry. If Allah had
conferred victory at Bedr, through the instrumentality of “the
havoc-making angels,” He had permitted a defeat at Uhud in order
to separate the true believers from the hypocrites; then, too,
Allah _had_ been with them until they disobeyed the Prophet--“When
you ran off precipitately, and did not wait for any one, and the
Apostle was calling you from your rear.” The cowardice of those
who had stayed at home, as well as lust for loot, had also played
a large part in the defeat; but the Prophet himself was blameless,
for he had accepted the decision of a majority of Moslems as to
where and how the battle should be fought. Nor had the Koreish
gained by winning: “We grant them respite only that they may add
to their sins; and they shall have a disgraceful chastisement.”
Furthermore, was it possible that the Moslems had forgotten that
the dead were infinitely better off in Paradise?--where “No terror
afflicteth them, neither are they grieved.” And even if Mohammed,
being only mortal like other men and “other Apostles that have gone
before him,” had been killed, Islam must still continue: “What!
if he were to die or be killed, must ye needs turn back upon your
heels?” And finally: “Be not cast down, neither be ye grieved. Ye
shall yet be victorious if ye are true Believers.”
When it was over, every shamefaced person present was thoroughly
convinced that the Prophet, alone among the Moslems, was wholly
guiltless, that Allah was more adorable than ever, and that the
defeat at Uhud was an excellent example of a remarkably successful
strategic retreat.
[Illustration: VII]