Stormy scene in the hall of the citizens.
Such, no doubt, were the thoughts which occurred to Omar and Abu Bekr on receiving intelligence of the elective conclave; and so, alarmed at the danger, they hastened to the spot, accompanied by Abu Obeida, if haply they might nip it in the bud. On the way they met two friendly citizens coming from the assembly, who warned them of the risk they ran; but, notwithstanding, they hurried on. The men of Medîna meanwhile, gathered in one of their rude halls, were bent upon an independent course. ‘We have sheltered this nest of strangers,’ they cried. ‘It is by our good swords they have been able to plant the Faith. The Chief of Medîna shall be from amongst ourselves.’ And they had already fixed their choice on Sád ibn Obâda, leader of the Beni Khazraj, one of ‘the Twelve’ at ‘the Pledge of Acaba,’ who, sick of a fever, lay covered up at the further end of the hall. At this moment the three Companions entered but just in time, for had the Citizens elected Sád and pledged their troth to him, Medîna might have been irretrievably compromised. Omar, with his native vehemence, was about to speak, when Abu Bekr bade him to be silent, and anticipated him, as Omar used in after days to say, with the same arguments he himself had thought of, and even better. ‘Every word,’ said Abu Bekr, calmly and firmly, ‘which the Citizens had uttered in their own praise was true, but in noble birth and influence the Coreish were paramount, and to none but them would Arabia yield obedience.’ ‘Then,’ cried the men of Medîna, ‘let there be one chief from amongst you and one from amongst us.’ ‘Away with you!’ exclaimed Omar; ‘two cannot stand together’; and even Sád from beneath his covering muttered that to divide the power would weaken it. High words ensued. Hobâb, on the side of Sád, cried out, ‘Hear him not! Attend to me, for I am the well-rubbed Palm-stem.[6] If they refuse, expel them from the city. I am the Roaring Lion of the desert, and will devour them up.’ ‘The Lord destroy thee!’ cried Omar; and Hobâb returned the words. The altercation gaining in heat and bitterness, Abu Bekr saw that it must be stopped at any risk; so stepping forward he said: ‘Ye see these two’—and he pointed to Omar and Abu Obeida—‘Choose ye now whichever of them ye will, and salute him as your Chief.’ ‘Nay,’ cried both at once, ‘Thou hast already, at the Prophet’s bidding, led the prayers; thou art our Chief. Stretch forth thine hand.’ He did so, and they struck their hand on his in token of allegiance.[7] Others began to follow their example. ‘Wilt thou cut thine own kinsman’s throat?’ cried Hobâb to a Khazrajite about to take the pledge. ‘Not so,’ he answered; ‘I only yield the right to whom the right is due.’ Whilst they yet hesitated, the Beni Aus, jealous of the rival tribe and of Sád its nominee, spake among themselves: ‘If this man be chosen, the rule will be for ever with the Beni Khazraj. Let us salute Abu Bekr as our Chief.’[8] Abu Bekr elected Caliph.The example once set, group after group advanced to place their hand on that of Abu Bekr, till none was left but Sád, who still lay covered in the corner. Acknowledged thus by the men of Medîna, there could be no doubt of Abu Bekr’s acceptance by the Coreish and all the Refugees.[9] He was one of themselves, and the Prophet, by appointing him to take his place, when laid aside, at the daily prayers, had in a manner indicated him as his vicegerent. And so homage was done on all sides to Abu Bekr. He was saluted as the ‘Caliph,’ or ‘Successor of the Prophet.’
Burial of the Prophet.
The night was occupied in preparing the dead for sepulture. The body was washed and laid out, and the grave dug in Ayesha’s apartment, where Mahomet had breathed his last. On the morrow the citizens, men, women, and children, thronged the chamber to look once more upon their Prophet’s face. And then the body was reverently committed to the dust.
Abu Bekr’s inaugural address.
The funeral being over, and the court of the Great Mosque still crowded with the mourners, Abu Bekr ascended the pulpit, and, sitting down, was saluted as Caliph by acclamation. Then he arose, and said: ‘O people! Now I am Chief over you, albeit not the best amongst you. If I do well, support me; if ill, then set me right. Follow the true, wherein is faithfulness; eschew the false, wherein is treachery. The weaker amongst you shall be as the stronger with me, until that I shall have redressed his wrong; and the stronger shall be as the weaker, until, if the Lord will, I shall have taken from him that which he hath wrested. Leave not off to fight in the ways of the Lord; whosoever leaveth off, him verily shall the Lord abase. Obey me wherein I obey the Lord and his Prophet; when I disobey, then obey me not. Now, arise to prayer, and the Lord be with you!’ The assembly stood up for prayer, and Abu Bekr, for the first time as Caliph, filled the place of Mahomet.
Sád declines to swear fealty; and also (probably) Aly for a time.
Besides Sád, there were few, if any, who refused to do homage to Abu Bekr. According to most authorities, Aly declined to do so until the death of Fâtima his wife, six months afterwards. Zobeir and Talha are also mentioned, but doubtfully.[10] Sád persisted in his refusal; he even threatened to empty his quiver against the usurpers, and then fight against them with his retainers. ‘Let him alone,’ was the advice of those around the Caliph; ‘he is but a single man, and his secession will not signify; but if force be used against him, then his tribe will fight.’ The advice approved itself to Abu Bekr’s forbearing spirit. Sád kept aloof, and never appeared at court or in the mosque. When Omar succeeded to the Caliphate, he presented himself with these words, ‘I love thee not, O Omar!’ and, disappearing, eventually died in Syria.
The succession, how far provided for by Mahomet; and the precedent now established.
With Mahomet ceased the theocratic power which, as a prophet, he had exercised; but the kingly functions, as ruler over all Islam, descended to his successor. According to Arabian notions, such a ruler was, like the Chieftain of a tribe, the head and representative of the people, and his nomination was incomplete till confirmed by their homage. Omar, we are told, in after days declared that the irregular election of Abu Bekr (referring apparently to the scene enacted in the hall) should not be drawn into a precedent. It was, he said, an event the happiest in its consequences for Islam, but justified only by the urgency of the moment. What might have been the issue if any son of Mahomet had survived, it is useless to speculate. But certainly the hereditary descent of kingly power was foreign to the sentiment of Arabia. As matters stood, Mahomet seems to have shrunk from anticipating the contingency of his death, and made no preparation for what should follow. But in so far as we may suppose him to have felt his illness mortal and his death impending, the nomination of Abu Bekr to conduct the public prayers (the acknowledged mark of chief or delegated authority) may be held the natural indication of his wish that he should succeed.[11] Apart from the counter-claim of the men of Medîna, there was, in point of fact, neither doubt nor hesitancy in the election, and the counter-claim died away almost as soon as made. The notion of divine right, or even of preferential claim, resting in the Prophet’s family, was the growth of a later age.