I
Six long years, with their burden of foreign and domestic struggles,
had elapsed since the Hegira; yet the recollections of Mecca,
the Kaba, the Black Stone--in short, the memories of _home_--had
remained ineradicably fixed in the minds of the Prophet and his
flock. About half of Arabia, and approximately three-fourths of his
wives, might now be pretty well under his dominion; but his heart
often troubled him when he recalled his sins of omission in failing
to fulfil the Lesser and Greater Pilgrimages--and, incidentally,
the hateful truth that the intransigent Koreish still ruled the
beloved city. Why, therefore, should he not undertake a pilgrimage
during one of the sacred months? for surely, the mere fact that he
himself had previously violated their sanctity could not rightly be
held against him if he returned as a humble penitent. The Koreish,
bound by adamant Arabian custom, would almost certainly allow him
and his followers to make their sacrifices to the national religion;
and, even in case his ancient foes should molest the journeying
Moslems, perhaps--_perhaps_--he would be able to deal with them.
In a dream he imagined himself and his worshiping band going through
the stiff ritual of pilgrimage: encircling the Kaba, slaughtering
the sacrificial victims, and completing the other well-remembered
ceremonies. The Moslems, after listening to his fervid narration of
this vision, pulsated with desire to accompany him; and so, having
taken a bath and donned the two-piece pilgrim garb, in February,
628, he set out, mounted on Al-Kaswa, at the head of some fifteen
hundred votaries each of whom was armed with a sword, a bow and
a quiver of arrows. At one stage of the journey they halted and,
uttering the plaintive cry “Labbeik! Labbeik! (Here am I, O Lord!
Here am I!),” placed their curious ornaments around the necks of
seventy votive camels. In the busy midst of these pious engagements,
however, the Prophet did not neglect to dispatch a spy to report on
the behavior of the Koreish; the envoy finally returned with the news
that the Meccans were obviously distrustful of Mohammed’s peacefully
religious intentions, and that, in very truth, a large body of armed
Koreish was guarding the road that led to Mecca. “Their wives and
little ones are with them,” said the spy, “and they have sworn to
die rather than let thee pass,” adding the further detail that they
were clothed in panthers’ skins--a symbol of their determination
to fight like beasts in an effort to bar any advance. Mohammed and
his people therefore decided to continue toward Mecca by a sinuous
route that would lead them to the edge of the sacred city. At this
juncture Al-Kaswa stopped short and refused to budge another inch.
“She is weary,” the Moslems insisted; but the Prophet replied:
“Nay, Al-Kaswa is not weary; but the same hand restraineth her as
aforetime held back the elephant”--for, as became a loyal Arab,
he had not forgotten how Arabia had been saved from the invader
Abraha. He further declared that he would not march upon the city,
for fear that the few Moslems who were still living there might
chance to be harmed in the struggle that might take place; but it
is also possible that he checked his advance because he had learnt
that the Koreish, hearing of his own manœuver, had also deviated
in such a way that they still blocked his path.
Very soon afterward, a Koreishite deputation approached to interview
Mohammed. “I have no other design but to perform the pilgrimage of
the Holy House,” he insisted, “and whosoever hindereth us therefrom,
we shall fight against them.” This sally was met by the retort
that the desperate Meccans “will not suffer this rabble of thine
to approach the city.” A long, wrangling dispute followed in which
blows came near being struck; and the only concession that the
Prophet could obtain was the information that “this year he must
go back; but in the year following he may come, and having entered
Mecca then perform the pilgrimage.” Mohammed, who realized that
his acquiescence to these instructions would irreparably harm his
prestige, decided to send a counter delegation to Mecca. Omar was
the first man requested to act in this capacity; but that fearless
fighter begged off on the plea that he had no powerful relatives
in the city to protect him against the Koreish, and, pointing to
Othman--whose slight to Hafsa had not been forgotten--suggested
that _he_ be the Moslem representative. Othman had excused himself
from fighting at Bedr on the grounds that his wife, the Prophet’s
own daughter, was ill; but, realizing that the influence of his
family connections would protect him on this occasion, he readily
consented to depart. His return was so long delayed that Mohammed
feared he might have been treacherously slain, and a tensely dramatic
scene took place. The Prophet, standing beneath an acacia tree and
encircled by the entire number of his votaries, requested a solemn
pledge that they would not turn their backs, but, if necessary,
would fight till the last man dropped; the covenant was individually
sealed as each man clasped Mohammed’s outstretched hand--when Othman
suddenly appeared, entirely unharmed. Nevertheless, the Prophet
was immensely pleased; indeed, he never ceased to refer to this
auspicious event, which had symbolized the strength of the union of
religious ecstasy and martial enthusiasm that dominated his willing
slaves.
A treaty of peace was eventually drawn up. For ten years the
Koreish caravans were to be unmolested, and during this same period
extraneous clans could be converted either to Islam or to the
faith--such as it was--of Mecca; in the following year, also, the
Moslems were to be allowed to complete their pilgrimage, but this
year they must return unedified and still burdened with their sins.
Perhaps Mohammed swallowed this bitter medicine the more readily
because previous experience had taught him that treaties were mere
scraps of paper; yet he found it excessively irritating to endure
the high-handed methods of the noted orator Suheil, ambassador
for the Koreish. The Prophet, assuming as a matter of course that
he himself should phrase the language of the covenant, began to
dictate to Ali, who willingly served as a scribe, in this high-flown
manner: “In the name of God, most gracious and merciful”--“Stop!”
Suheil abruptly interrupted, “as for God, we know Him; but this new
name, we know it not. Say, as we have always said, _In thy name,
O God!_” “In thy name, O God,” Mohammed repeated, “These are the
conditions of peace between Mohammed the Prophet of God and”--“Stop
again!” commanded the imperturbable spokesman. “If thou wert what
thou sayest, I had not taken up arms against thee. Write, as the
custom is, thine own name and thy father’s name.” “Write, then,”
said the amazed but ever tactful Prophet, “between Mohammed son of
Abdallah, and Suheil son of Amr....” and so on until the end. The
document was then duly witnessed by members of both factions; and
Mohammed, firmly resolved to perform at least a modicum of his vows,
shaved his head (or cut his hair; historians have not determined
the facts about the matter), and, while all the Moslems treated
their heads in a similar manner, he directed that the doomed camels
should be sacrificed.
The unexpected outcome of this journey left many Moslems unsatisfied.
Some of them--both the “Shavers” and the “Cutters”--had refused
to part with their hair until the Prophet ordered them to do so;
Omar, in particular, had so completely recovered the strength of
his trembling knees that he threatened to head a renegade movement.
Obviously, therefore, it was high time to produce a new message
from on high. Even before the return journey was begun, the words
“Inspiration hath descended on him” were eagerly repeated throughout
the encampment, and a great crowd collected around the Prophet, who,
standing upright on Al-Kaswa’s broad back, began to intone thus:
“Verily, We have given unto thee an evident Victory,” adding, at
the end of a tediously prolix mass of jubilantly phrased but wholly
unintelligible rhetoric: “Now hath God verified unto His Apostle the
Vision in truth; ye shall surely enter the Holy Temple, if it please
God, in security, having your heads shaven and your hair cut. Fear
ye not; for He knoweth that which ye know not.” As he concluded, one
of the onlookers exclaimed, “What! is _this_ the Victory?” “Yes,”
came the calm reply, “by Him in whose hand is my breath, it is a
Victory.” And in fact, despite the Prophet’s muddy-mindedness on
this occasion, there was much to justify his statement. Perhaps he
realized that the peaceful outcome of his pompous expedition, which
was certain to be noised over a large part of Arabia, would win him
more converts than force had ever done--for had he not convinced
the Koreish of his pacific intentions, and had _they_ not treated
him with high honor? Thus, indeed, it turned out; various tribes,
hoodwinked by highly colored accounts of the pilgrimage, at once
sought to make alliances with Mohammed; and the result was that,
during the next year, Islam grew as it had never grown before.
Two interesting incidents took place soon after Mohammed had
returned to Medina. Abu Basir, a youthful acolyte of Islam who
still lived in Mecca, became so restless under the domination of
the Koreish that, after a series of bold assaults and hairbreadth
escapes, he managed to reach Medina in safety; the Prophet was so
much stirred by the lad’s tale of rash but admirable bravery that
he commented, as if speaking to himself: “What a kindler of war, if
he had but with him a body of adherents!” Abu Basir, encouraged by
these words, at once organized a band of seventy similarly inclined
young braves who, for the next few months, assaulted Koreishite
caravans and killed the captives with so much gusto that Mohammed,
at the humble request of the Meccans, finally felt constrained to
command the robbers to cease from kindling war. The second event
was of an entirely different sort. Some of the Medinese Jews,
who had openly and loudly proclaimed their adherence to Islam,
surreptitiously obtained several of the Prophet’s blessed hairs,
and, after tying them into eleven knots around the branch of a
palm-tree, lowered the evil invention into a well. Their sly and
malignant design was soon rewarded: Mohammed grew feeble, his mind
became afflicted with stranger hallucinations than ever before, he
neglected his devotions, and he even showed indifference toward
his wives. But Gabriel shortly revealed the cause of his malady;
the well was examined, the necromantic knots were loosed, and
the Prophet, thus freed from the voodooistic spell, experienced a
lively recrudescence of his manifold talents.
The time finally drew near when, according to the terms of the
treaty, the Koreish were to evacuate Mecca for three days so that the
Moslems might perform their pilgrimage in peace. On this occasion
about two thousand zealots accompanied Mohammed, and, although each
one was restricted by treaty to carry only a sword, a large amount
of armor was taken along, while the travelers were also preceded
by a considerable force of cavalry. As the procession approached
the holy city, the Koreish obediently withdrew and, stationed on
the surrounding hills, kept a wary eye on the curious scenes that
followed. The eager devotees, upon viewing the deeply revered Kaba
again for the first time in seven years, raised the now almost
joyous ululation, “Labbeik! Labbeik!” Mohammed, astride Al-Kaswa
as usual, neared the Kaba, gently touched the Black Stone with his
staff, and--apparently still mounted on Al-Kaswa--went seven times
around the sacred temple. His absorption in these reverent pursuits,
however, did not cause him to forget more important concerns: at
his special bidding, the Moslems footraced around the Kaba three
times at top speed, to demonstrate to the observant Koreish that
they were in excellent physical condition; then, at a somewhat
slower pace, they circled the building four times more.
Three days were occupied in fulfilling the remaining rites; yet
the Prophet, who, through the aid of Al-Kaswa, had kept himself
fresher than his foot-sore compatriots, and who had meanwhile
taken the opportunity to engage himself to Meimuna, continued to
tarry in apparent forgetfulness of his sworn promise to leave the
city on the third day. He was brought rudely to his senses on the
morning of the fourth day, when two leaders of the Koreish came
abruptly up and said: “The period allowed thee hath elapsed; depart
now therefore from amongst us.” “And what harm if ye allowed me to
stay a little longer,” Mohammed graciously inquired, “celebrate my
nuptials in your midst, and make for the guests a feast at which
ye too might all sit down?” “Nay,” was the harsh answer, “of any
food of thine we have no need. Withdraw from hence!” To disobey
was to invite an immediate war; and inasmuch as the Prophet was
not yet ready for the struggle that, in his heart of hearts, he
had long anticipated, he directed that an immediate departure be
made--a stipulation that compelled him to content himself with the
consummation of his nuptials at a spot about ten miles from Mecca.
But, despite its somewhat inglorious conclusion, the grandiose
adventure accomplished several things of much importance. In a
general way, Mohammed benefited from the fact that the Koreish had
not failed to be impressed by the dignified yet ominous Moslemite
display of religious and warlike ardor. With their own eyes, they
had seen what an exalted rank the renegade Prophet had attained
among his servile henchmen; they had noted, too, the instantaneous
and unquestioning obedience with which his least desire had been
met. He profited, also, in that the deepest instincts of his
confederates had been aroused at the renewed visitation of the
familiar and unforgettable scenes of those happy, bygone days when
they had dwelt in peace and moderate prosperity at Mecca, until
the implacable requirements of Islam had wrenched them from their
cherished moorings. Once again they had been irresistibly compelled
to realize that they were but outcasts and wanderers, to whom Medina
had never grown really congenial, and who now poignantly reflected
that Mecca, and Mecca alone, was home. In particular, the Prophet
gained two notable converts to Islam: Khalid, who had commanded
the cavalry that brought about the Moslem defeat at Uhud, and
Amr--who was equally versatile in poetry, diplomacy, and military
strategy--were so impressed by Mohammed’s magnificent gesture in
conducting the Moslems to Mecca that they decided to desert the
vacillating Koreish and cast their fortunes with the progressive
cause of Islam. Under the Caliphs who succeeded the Prophet, the
intrepid Khalid--divinely protected by some of Mohammed’s hair
which he wore in his cap as a charm against misfortune--won such
imperial victories that he acquired the title “The Sword of Allah”;
and the sagacious counsels of Amr also won him a high place in the
annals of Islam. Furthermore, the accession of these two was not
without its immediate effect. They were straws that showed how the
wind was veering: the Koreish had not only failed to recover the
prestige they had dropped at Bedr, and to benefit by the Moslem
debacle at Uhud, but they had lost the confidence of some of their
outstanding men of action. The time was swiftly approaching when
the rankling stigma of Uhud would be blotted out, when the Prophet
would take a final and complete revenge on his life-long enemies,
and when the Meccans would treat Allah with an even more touching
reverence than they already bestowed upon Al-Ozza, Hubal, the Kaba
and the Black Stone.