LAST DAYS OF THE PROPHET

At last the day drew near which every human being must face. The Prophet’s work was done. All that God had to reveal to him for the benefit of man had been revealed. The spirit of Muhammad had infused new life into his people. A new nation had arisen, a new outlook on life and new institutions ; in short, a new heaven and a new earth. The foundations of a new order had been laid. The land had been ploughed and watered and the seed scattered for a new harvest. And now the harvest itself had begun to show. It was not, however, for him to reap it. It was for him only to plough, to sow and to water. He came as a labourer, remained a labourer and was now due to depart as a labourer. He found his reward not in the things of this world but in the pleasure and the approval of his God, his Maker and Master. When the time came for reaping the harvest, he preferred to go to Him, leaving others to reap. The Holy Prophet fell ill. For some days he continued to visit the mosque and lead the prayers. Then he became too weak to do this. The Companions were so used to his daily company that they could hardly believe he would die. But he had been telling them of his death again and again. One day, touching upon this very theme, he said, “If a man make a mistake, it is better he should make amends for it in this very world so that he should have no regrets in the next. Therefore I say, if I have done any wrong to any of you, it may be only unwittingly, let him come forward and ask me to make amends. If even unknowingly I have injured any one of you, let him come forward and take his revenge. I do not wish to be put to shame when I face my God in the next world.

The Companions were moved. Tears sprang to their eyes. What pains had he not taken and what sufferings had he not endured for their sake ? He put up with hunger and thirst in order that others might have enough to eat and to drink. He mended his own clothes and cobbled his own shoes in order that others might dress well. And yet here he was, eager to right even fancied wrongs he might have done to others ; so much did he respect the rights of others. All the Companions received the Prophet’s offer in solemn silence. But one came forward and said, “0 Prophet of God, I once received an injury from you. We were lining up for battle when you passed by our line and while passing you dug your elbow in my side. It was all done unwittingly, but you said we could avenge even unintentional wrongs. I want to avenge this wrong.” The Companions, who had received the Prophet’s offer in solemn silence, were full of wrath. They became enraged at the insolence and stupidity of this man who had failed completely to understand the spirit of the Prophet’s offer and the solemnity of the occasion. But the Companion seemed adamant-determined to take the Prophet at his word.

The Prophet said, “You are welcome to take your revenge.” He turned his back to him and said, “Come and hit me as I hit you.” “But,” explained this Companion, “when you hit me my side was bare, because I was wearing no shirt at the time.” “Raise my shirt,” said the Prophet, “and let him hit my side with his elbow.” They did so but, instead of hitting the bare side of the Prophet, this Companion bent forward with bedewed eyes and kissed the Prophet’s bare body. “What is this ?” asked the Prophet. “Didn’t you say that your days with us were numbered ? How many more occasions can we then have of touching you, in the flesh and expressing our love and affection for you ? True, you did hit me with your elbow, but who could think of avenging it. I had this idea here and now. You offered to let us take revenge. I said to myself-let me kiss you under cover of revenge.” The Companions full of wrath until then began to wish the thought had occurred to them.

THE PROPHET PASSES AWAY

But the Prophet was ill and the ailment seemed to advance. Death seemed to draw nearer and nearer, and depression and gloom descended over the hearts of the Companions. The sun shone over Medina as brightly as ever, but to the Companions it seemed paler and paler. The day dawned as before but it seemed to bring darkness, not light. At last came the time when the soul of the Prophet was to depart from its physical frame and meet its Maker. His breathing became more and more difficult. The Prophet, who was spending his last days in ‘A’isha’s chamber, said to her, “Raise my head a little and bring it near to your side. I cannot breathe well.” ‘A’isha did so. She sat up and held his head. The death-pangs were visible. Greatly agitated, the Prophet looked now to this side and now to that. Again and again he said, “Woe to the Jews and the Christians. They encouraged the worship of the graves of their Prophets.” This, we might say, was his dying message for his followers. While he lay on his death-bed, he seemed to say to his followers, “You will learn to hold me above all other Prophets, and more successful than any of them. But take care, do not turn my grave into an object of worship. Let my grave remain only a grave. Others may worship the graves of their Prophets and turn them into centres of pilgrimage, places where they may repair and perform austerities, make their offerings, and do their thanksgiving. Others may do this, but not you. You must remember your one and only objective -that is, the worship of the One and Only God.” After he had thus warned Muslims about their duty to guard the hard-won idea of One God and the distinction between God and Man, his eyelids began to droop. His eyes began to close. All he then said was, “To my Friend the Highest of the High-to my Friend the Highest of the High,” meaning evidently that he was heading towards God. As he said this he gave up the ghost.

The news reached the mosque. There many Companions had assembled, having given up their private tasks. They were expecting to hear better news but instead heard of the Prophet’s death. It came like a bolt from the blue. Abu Bakr was out.  ‘Umar was in the mosque, but he was utterly stupefied with grief. It angered him if he heard anyone say the Prophet was dead. He even drew his sword and threatened to kill those who should say the Prophet had died. There was much the Prophet had yet to do, so the Prophet could not die. True, his soul had departed from his body, but it had gone only to meet its Maker. Just as Moses had gone for a time to meet his Maker only to return, the Prophet must return to do what had been left undone. There were the hypocrites, for instance, with whom they had yet to deal. ‘Umar walked about sword in hand almost as a mad man. As he walked he said: “Whosoever says the Prophet has died will himself die at ‘Umar’s hands.” The Companions felt braced and they half-believed what ‘Umar said. The Prophet could not die. There must have been a mistake.

In the meantime some Companions went in search of Abu Bakr, found him and told him what had happened. Abu Bakr made straight for the mosque at Medina and speaking not a word to anyone, entered ‘A’isha’s room and asked her, “Has the Prophet died ?” “Yes,” replied ‘A’isha. Then he went straight to where the Prophet’s body was lying, uncovered the face, bent down and kissed the forehead. Tears laden with love and grief fell from his eyes and he said, “God is our witness. Death will not come upon you twice over.” It was a sentence full of meaning. It was Abu Bakr’s reply to what ‘Umar had been saying out of his mad grief. The Prophet had died once. That was his physical death-the death everyone must die. But he was not to have a second death. There was to be no spiritual death-no death to the beliefs which he had established in his followers and for the establishment of which he had taken such pains. One of those beliefs-one of the more important beliefs-he had taught was that even Prophets were human and even they must die. Muslims were not going to forget this so soon after the Prophet’s own death. Having said this great sentence over the dead body of the Prophet, Abu Bakr came out and, piercing through the lines of the Faithful, advanced silently to the pulpit. As he stood, ‘Umar stood by him, his sword drawn as before, determined that if Abu Bakr said the Prophet had died Abu Bakr must lose his head.

As Abu Bakr started to  speak, ‘Umar pulled at his shirt, wanting to stop him from speaking but Abu Bakr snatched back his shirt and refused to stop. He then recited the verse of the Quran :

And Muhammad is only a Messenger. Verily, all Messengers have passed away before him. If then he die or be slain, will you turn back on your heels ? (3 : 145).

That is to say, Muhammad was a man with a Message from God. There had been other men with  Messages from God, and all of them had died. If Muhammad should die, would they turn back upon everything which they had been taught and which they had learnt ? This verse was revealed at the time of Uhud. Rumour had then gone round that the Prophet had been killed by the enemy. Many Muslims lost heart and withdrew from the battle. The verse came from heaven to brace them. It had the same effect on this occasion.

Having recited the verse, Abu Bakr added to it a word of his own. He said, “Those amongst you who worship God, let them know that God is still alive, and will ever remain alive. But those amongst you who worshipped Muhammad, let them know it from me that Muhammad is dead.” The Companions recovered their balance on hearing this timely speech. ‘Umar himself was changed when he heard Abu Bakr recite the verse quoted above. He began to return to his senses, and to recover his lost judgement. By the time Abu Bakr had finished the recitation of the verse ‘Umar’s spiritual eye was fully opened. He understood that the Prophet had really died. But no sooner had he realized it, than his legs began to tremble and give way. He fell down exhausted. The man who wanted to terrorize Abu Bakr with his bare sword had been converted by Abu Bakr’s speech. The Companions felt the verse had been revealed for the first time on that day, so strong and so new was its appeal. In a paroxysm of grief, they forgot that the verse was in the Quran.

Many expressed the grief which overtook Muslims on the death of the Prophet, but the pithy and profound expression which Hassan, the poet of early Islam, gave to it in his couplet remains to this day the best and the most enduring. He said :

‘Thou wast the pupil of my eye. Now that thou hast died my eye hath become blind. I care not who dies now. For I feared only thy death.’

This couplet voiced the feeling of every Muslim. For months in the streets of Medina men, women and children went about reciting this couplet of Hassan bin Thabit.