We can easily comprehend why Ibn Hishám omits all mention of this episode from his Biography, and why the fact Muḥammad's concession to the idolaters. itself is denied by many Moslem theologians.[309] The Prophet's friends were scandalised, his enemies laughed him to scorn. It was probably no sudden lapse, as tradition represents, but a calculated endeavour to come to terms with the Quraysh; and so far from being immediately annulled, the reconciliation seems to have lasted long enough for the news of it to reach the emigrants in Abyssinia and induce some of them to return to Mecca. While putting the best face on the matter, Muḥammad felt keenly both his own disgrace and the public discredit. It speaks well for his sincerity that, as soon as he perceived any compromise with idolatry to be impossible—to be, in fact, a surrender of the great principle by which he was inspired—he frankly confessed his error and delusion. Henceforth he "wages mortal strife with images in every shape"—there is no god but Allah.
The further course of events which culminated in Muḥammad's Flight to Medína may be sketched in a few words. Persecution now waxed hotter than ever, as the Prophet, rising from his temporary vacillation like a giant refreshed, threw his whole force into the denunciation of idolatry. The conversion of ‘Umar b. al-Khaṭṭáb, the future Caliph, a man of 'blood and iron,' gave the signal for open revolt. "The Moslems no longer concealed their worship within their own dwellings, but with conscious strength and defiant attitude assembled in companies about the Ka‘ba, performed their rites of prayer and compassed the Holy House. Their courage rose. Dread and uneasiness seized the Quraysh." The latter retaliated by cutting off all relations with the Háshimites, who were pledged to defend their kinsman, whether they recognised him as a prophet or no. This ban or boycott secluded them in an outlying quarter of the city, where for more than two years they endured the utmost privations, but it only cemented their loyalty to Muḥammad, and ultimately dissensions among the Quraysh themselves caused it to be removed. Shortly afterwards the Prophet suffered a double bereavement—the death of his wife, Death of of Khadíja and Abú Ṭálib. Khadíja, was followed by that of the noble Abú Ṭálib, who, though he never accepted Islam, stood firm to the last in defence of his brother's son. Left alone to protect himself, Muḥammad realised that he must take some decisive step. The situation was critical. Events had shown that he had nothing to hope and everything to fear from the Meccan aristocracy. He had warned them again and again of the wrath to come, yet they gave no heed. He was now convinced that they would not and could not believe, since God in His inscrutable wisdom had predestined them to eternal damnation. Consequently he resolved on a bold and, according to Arab ways of thinking, abominable expedient, namely, to abandon his fellow-tribesmen and seek aid from strangers.[310] Having vainly appealed to the inhabitants of Ṭá’if, he turned to Medína, where, among a population largely composed of Jews, the revolutionary ideas of Islam might more readily take root and flourish than in the Holy City of Arabian heathendom. This time he was not disappointed. A strong party in Medína hailed him as the true Prophet, eagerly embraced his creed, and swore to defend him at all hazards. In the spring of the year 622 a.d. the Moslems of Mecca quietly left their homes and journeyed northward. A few months later (September, 622) Muḥammad himself, eluding the vigilance of the Quraysh, entered Medína in triumph amidst the crowds and acclamations due to a conqueror.
This is the celebrated Migration or Hegira (properly Hijra) which marks the end of the Barbaric Age (al-Jáhiliyya) and The Hijra or Migration to Medina (622 a.d.). the beginning of the Muḥammadan Era. It also marks a new epoch in the Prophet's history; but before attempting to indicate the nature of the change it will be convenient, in order that we may form a juster conception of his character, to give some account of his early teaching and preaching as set forth in that portion of the Koran which was revealed at Mecca.
Koran (Qur’án) is derived from the Arabic root qara’a, 'to read,' and means 'reading aloud' or 'chanting.' This The Koran. term may be applied either to a single Revelation or to several recited together or, in its usual acceptation, to the whole body of Revelations which are thought by Moslems to be, actually and literally, the Word of God; so that in quoting from the Koran they say qála ’lláhu, i.e., 'God said.' Each Revelation forms a separate Súra (chapter)[311] composed of verses of varying length which have no metre but are generally rhymed. Thus, as regards its external features, the style of the Koran is modelled upon the Saj‘,[312] or rhymed prose, of the pagan soothsayers, but with such freedom that it may fairly be described as original. Since it was not in Muḥammad's power to create a form that should be absolutely new, his choice lay between Saj‘ and poetry, the only forms of elevated style then known to the Arabs. He himself declared that he was no poet,[313] and this is true in the sense that he may have lacked the technical accomplishment of verse-making. It must, however, be borne in Was Muḥammad poet? mind that his disavowal does not refer primarily to the poetic art, but rather to the person and character of the poets themselves. He, the divinely inspired Prophet, could have nothing to do with men who owed their inspiration to demons and gloried in the ideals of paganism which he was striving to overthrow. "And the poets do those follow who go astray! Dost thou not see that they wander distraught in every vale? and that they say that which they do not?" (Kor. xxvi, 224-226). Muḥammad was not of these; although he was not so unlike them as he pretended. His kinship with the pagan Shá‘ir is clearly shown, for example, in the 113th and 114th Súras, which are charms against magic and diablerie, as well as in the solemn imprecation calling down destruction upon the head of his uncle, ‘Abdu ’l-‘Uzzá, nicknamed Abú Lahab (Father of Flame).
THE SÚRA OF ABÚ LAHAB (CXI).
(1) Perish the hands of Abú Lahab and perish he! (2) His wealth shall not avail him nor all he hath gotten in fee. (3) Burned in blazing fire he shall be! (4) And his wife, the faggot-bearer, also she. (5) Upon her neck a cord of fibres of the palm-tree.
If, then, we must allow that Muḥammad's contemporaries had some justification for bestowing upon him the title of poet against which he protested so vehemently, still less can his plea be accepted by the modern critic, whose verdict will be that the Koran is not poetical as a whole; that it contains many pages of rhetoric and much undeniable prose; but that, although Muḥammad needed "heaven-sent moments for this skill," in the early Meccan Súras frequently, and fitfully elsewhere, his genius proclaims itself by grand lyrical outbursts which could never have been the work of a mere rhetorician.
"Muḥammad's single aim in the Meccan Súras," says Nöldeke, "is to convert the people, by means of persuasion, from their false gods to The Meccan Súras. the One God. To whatever point the discourse is directed, this always remains the ground-thought; but instead of seeking to convince the reason of his hearers by logical proofs, he employs the arts of rhetoric to work upon their minds through the imagination. Thus he glorifies God, describes His working in Nature and History, and ridicules on the other hand the impotence of the idols. Especially important are the descriptions of the everlasting bliss of the pious and the torments of the wicked: these, particularly the latter, must be regarded as one of the mightiest factors in the propagation of Islam, through the impression which they make on the imagination of simple men who have not been hardened, from their youth up, by similar theological ideas. The Prophet often attacks his heathen adversaries personally and threatens them with eternal punishment; but while he is living among heathens alone, he seldom assails the Jews who stand much nearer to him, and the Christians scarcely ever."[314]
The preposterous arrangement of the Koran, to which I have already adverted, is mainly responsible for the opinion almost unanimously held by European readers that it is obscure, tiresome, uninteresting; a farrago of long-winded narratives and prosaic exhortations, quite unworthy to be named in the same breath with the Prophetical Books of the Old Testament. One may, indeed, peruse the greater part of the volume, beginning with the first chapter, and find but a few passages of genuine enthusiasm to relieve the prevailing dulness. It is in the short Súras placed at the end of the Koran that we must look for evidence of Muḥammad's prophetic gift. These are the earliest of all; in these the flame of inspiration burns purely and its natural force is not abated. The following versions, like those which have preceded, imitate the original form as closely, I think, as is possible in English. They cannot, of course, do more than faintly suggest the striking effect of the sonorous Arabic when read aloud. The Koran was designed for oral recitation, and it must be heard in order to be justly appraised.