Permission [to fight] is given to those against whom war is being wrongfully waged—and, verily, God has indeed the power to succor them—those who have been driven from their homelands against all right for no other reason than their saying “Our Sustainer is God!”
For if God had not enabled people to defend themselves against one another, [all] monasteries and churches and synagogues and mosques—in [all of ] which God’s name is abundantly extolled—would surely have been destroyed [ere now].4
The Qur’an had begun to develop a primitive just war theory. In the steppes, aggressive warfare was praiseworthy; but in the Qur’an, self-defense was the only possible justification for hostilities and the preemptive strike was condemned.5 War was always a terrible evil, but it was sometimes necessary in order to preserve decent values, such as freedom of worship. Even here, the Qur’an did not abandon its pluralism: synagogues and churches as well as mosques should be protected. The Muslims felt that they had suffered a fearful assault; their expulsion from Mecca was an act that had no justification. Exile from the tribe violated the deepest sanction of Arabia; it had attacked the core of the Muslims’ identity.
But Muhammad had embarked upon a dangerous course. He was living in a chronically violent society and he saw these raids not simply as a means of bringing in much-needed income, but as a way of resolving his quarrel with the Quraysh. We have discovered in our own day, that waging war for the sake of peace is a high-risk venture. The ruthlessness of battle can lead to actions that flout the very principles that the warriors are fighting for, so that in the end neither side can claim the high moral ground. Muhammad tried to give his ghazu ethical grounding but he had no experience of a long military campaign, and would learn that, once it has started, a cycle of violence achieves an independent momentum, and can spin tragically out of control.
At first, Muhammad fought according to the traditional rules, but in January 624, just before the change of the qiblah, he had his first experience of the unpredictability of warfare.6 The Emigrants were becoming more confident. During the winter months, the Quraysh sent their caravans south, so they no longer had to pass Medina. But ever anxious to attract their attention, Muhammad sent a small raiding party of nine men to attack one of these southbound caravans. It was the end of Rajab, one of the “sacred months” when all fighting was forbidden. On the last day of Rajab, the Muslims came upon a small caravan encamped in Nakhlah. What should they do? If they waited until the following day, when the truce ended, the caravan would be able to return unscathed to Mecca. They decided to attack. The first arrow killed one of the merchants, most of the others fled, but the Muslims took two prisoners whom they brought back to Medina with the captured merchandise.
But instead of greeting the raiders as conquering heroes, the Muslims were horrified to hear that the raid had violated the sacred month. For a few days, Muhammad did not know how to respond. He had, after all, abandoned much Meccan religion and may have imagined that he could jettison the forbidden months too. The raid had been a success. Not only were there rich pickings, but he had shown the Quraysh that he could attack them almost on their own doorstep. He had also impressed many of the Medinese. But there was something dubious about the whole business. Muhammad had never condemned the practice of the forbidden months before; the sources seem uneasy about the incident. Muhammad had discovered that however idealistic your war might be at the outset, something distasteful is likely to occur sooner rather than later.
Eventually Muhammad received a new revelation that reiterated the central principle of his just war. Yes, it had been wrong to break the sacred truce, but the policy of the Quraysh in driving the Muslims from their homes had been even more heinous. “They will not cease to fight against you till they have turned you away from your faith,” the Qur’an warned Muhammad. As to fighting during the forbidden month, this was indeed an “awesome thing,”
But turning men away from the path of God and denying Him and [turning them away from] the Inviolable House of Worship and expelling its people therefrom—[all this] is far more awesome in the sight of God, since oppression is more awesome than killing.7
Muhammad, therefore, accepted the booty and reassured the community; he divided the spoils equally among the Emigrants and began negotiations with the Quraysh for an exchange of prisoners: he would trade the Meccan captives for two Muslims still living in Mecca who wanted to make the hijrah. But one of the prisoners was so impressed by what he saw in Medina that he decided to remain and convert to Islam. The incident is a good example of the way Muhammad was beginning to work. In his novel position, he could not rely on customary procedure. He was feeling his way forward step by step, responding to events as they unfolded. He had no fixed master plan and, unlike some of his more impetuous companions, he rarely responded to a crisis immediately but took time to reflect until finally—sometimes pale and sweating with the effort—he would bring forth what seemed an inspired solution.
A few weeks later, during the month of Ramadan (March 624), Muhammad led a large Muslim contingent to intercept a Meccan caravan that Abu Sufyan was bringing back from Syria.8 This was one of the most important caravans of the year and, encouraged by the success of Nakhlah, a large contingent of Helpers volunteered to join the raid. About 314 Muslims set out from Medina and rode to the well of Badr, near the Red Sea coast, where they hoped to ambush the caravan. This expedition would be one of the most formative events in the early history of Islam, but at the outset it seemed just another ghazu and several of the most committed Muslims stayed at home, including ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan, whose wife Ruqayyah, the Prophet’s daughter, was dangerously ill.
At first it looked as though the caravan would, as usual, escape. Abu Sufyan got wind of the Muslims’ plan and instead of taking his usual route across the Hijaz, he turned sharply away from the coast and dispatched a local tribesman to Mecca to get help. The Quraysh were incensed at Muhammad’s insolence, which they regarded as a slur on their honor, and all the leading men were determined to rescue the caravan. Abu Jahl, of course, was eager for the fray. The obese Ummayah ibn Khalaf was crammed into his armor, and even members of Muhammad’s own family rode out against him, convinced that this time he had gone too far. Abu Lahab was sick, but two of Abu Talib’s sons, his uncle ‘Abbas, and Khadijah’s nephew Hakim joined the thousand men who rode out of Mecca that night and took the road to Badr.
In the meantime, Abu Sufyan had managed to elude the Muslims and taken the caravan beyond their reach. He sent word that the merchandise was safe and that the army should turn back. The sources make it clear that when it came to the point many of the Quraysh were reluctant to fight their kinsmen. But Abu Jahl would have none of this. “By Allah!” he cried. “We will not go back until we have been to Badr. We will spend three days there, slaughter camels, and feast and drink wine; and the girls shall play for us. The Arabs will hear that we have come and will respect us in the future.”9 But these defiant words showed that even Abu Jahl did not expect a battle. He had little conception of the horror of war, which he seemed to envisage as a kind of party, complete with dancing girls. The Quraysh were so far removed from the steppes that warfare had become a chivalric sport that would enhance the prestige of Mecca.
There was a very different spirit in the Muslim camp. After the trauma and terror of the hijrah, the Emigrants could not view the situation in such a confident, carefree light. As soon as Muhammad heard that the Meccan army was approaching, he consulted the other chiefs. The Muslims were vastly outnumbered. They had expected an ordinary ghazu, not a full-scale battle, which was a very different matter. Muhammad was not the commander-in-chief; he could not command obedience, but the men decided to fight it out. As Sa‘d ibn Mu‘adh said on behalf of the Helpers:
We have given you our word and agreement to hear and obey; so go where you wish and we are with you, and by God, if you were to ask us to cross this sea and you plunged into it, we would plunge into it with you. We do not dislike the idea of mee
ting your enemy tomorrow. We are experienced in war, trustworthy in combat.10
Unlike the Quraysh, the Aws and Khazraj were practiced soldiers, after years of tribal warfare in Yathrib. But even so, the odds were overwhelmingly against them and all the Muslims hoped that they would not have to fight.
For two days, the two armies gazed bleakly at one another from opposite ends of the valley. The Quraysh looked impressive in their white tunics and glittering armor and despite Sa‘d’s stirring words, some of the Muslims wanted to retreat. There was great fear in the camp. The Prophet tried to rouse their spirits. He told them that in a dream God had promised to send a thousand angels to fight alongside them.11 But while the Quraysh were feasting and drinking, certain that the Muslims would surrender, Muhammad was making practical preparations. He lined up his troops in close formation and positioned his men by the wells, depriving the Quraysh of water and forcing them, when the time came, to advance uphill, fighting with the sun in their eyes. But when he looked at the huge Meccan army, he wept. “O Allah,” he prayed, “If this band that is with me perishes, there will be no one after me to worship You; all the believers will abandon the true religion.”12 He realized that this battle would be decisive. If the Muslims allowed the Quraysh to force them back to Medina, the ummah would make no lasting impact on Arabia. Something of his determined resolve must have been conveyed to his men. The Qur’an describes the great peace that descended upon the soldiers at this frightening moment. There was a sudden rainstorm, which seemed a good omen.13
Meanwhile the Quraysh had become more alarmed. The chiefs had dispatched a spy to report on the enemy troops. He was aghast to see the grim resolution on the faces of the Muslims and begged the Quraysh not to fight. He had “seen camels carrying Death—the camels of Yathrib laden with certain death.” Not one of the Muslims would die before he had killed at least one of the Meccans, and, the spy concluded despairingly, how could the Quraysh live with themselves after that? They would constantly be looking into the face of a neighbor who had killed one of their kinsfolk. But Abu Jahl was beyond reason and accused him of cowardice—a jibe that no Arab could ignore. He then turned to the brother of the man slain by the Muslim raiders at Nakhlah, who emitted a savage war cry. Immediately, said Ibn Ishaq, “war was kindled and all was marred and the folk held stubbornly to their evil course.”14 The Quraysh began to advance slowly over the sand dunes. Observing the command of the Qur’an, Muhammad refused to strike first, and even after the battle commenced, he seemed reluctant to unleash his men until Abu Bakr told him to leave his prayers and engage his troops, because God would certainly give them victory.
In the fierce skirmish that followed, the Quraysh soon found that they were getting the worst of it. They fought with careless bravado, as though this was a knightly tournament, and had no concerted strategy. But the Muslims did have a disciplined plan. They began by bombarding the enemy with arrows, drawing their swords for hand-to-hand combat only at the last minute. By midday, the Quraysh had fled in disarray, leaving some fifty of their leading men, including Abu Jahl himself, dead on the field. There were only fourteen Muslim casualties.
Jubilantly, the Muslims began to round up the prisoners and draw their swords. In tribal warfare, there was no quarter for the vanquished. Casualties were mutilated and captives were either slain or tortured. Muhammad immediately ordered his troops to desist. A revelation came down to ensure that the prisoners of war must either be released or ransomed.15 Even in war, Muslims would abjure the savage customs of the past.
Constantly the Qur’an insists upon the importance of mercy and forgiveness, even during armed conflict.16 While engaged in hostilities, Muslims must fight with courage and steadfastness in order to bring the conflict to an end as quickly as possible. But the moment the enemy asks for peace, Muslims must lay down their arms.17 They must accept any offer of truce, whatever conditions are imposed, even if they suspect the enemy of double-dealing. And although it is important to fight persecution and oppression, the Qur’an constantly reminds Muslims that it is much better to sit down and solve the problem by courteous discussion.18 True, God permitted retaliation in the Torah—eye for eye, tooth for tooth—“but he who shall forgo it out of charity will atone better for some of his past sins.”19 Retaliation would be strictly confined to those who had actually perpetrated the atrocity, a great advance on the law of vendetta, which permitted revenge against any member of the killer’s tribe. The Qur’an reminded the Muslims that they were not fighting the whole tribe of Quraysh; those who had remained neutral throughout the conflict and those Muslims who had chosen to remain in Mecca must not be attacked or injured in any way.20
Muhammad was not a pacifist. He believed that warfare was sometimes inevitable and even necessary. After the battle of Badr, the Muslims knew that it was only a matter of time before Mecca took her revenge, and they dedicated themselves to a long, gruelling jihad. But the primary meaning of that word, which we hear so often today, is not “holy war” but the “effort” or “struggle” necessary to put the will of God into practice. Muslims are exhorted to strive in this endeavor on all fronts: intellectual, social, economic, spiritual, and domestic. Sometimes they would have to fight, but this was not their chief duty. On their way home from Badr, Muhammad uttered an important and oft-quoted maxim: “We are returning from the Lesser Jihad (the battle) and going to the Greater Jihad,”—the immeasurably more important and difficult struggle to reform their own society and their own hearts.
Badr had given Muhammad a far higher profile in the oasis. As they prepared for the inevitable Qurayshan riposte, a covenant was drawn up between the Prophet and the Arab and Jewish tribes of Medina, who agreed to live peaceably beside the Muslims and promised not to make a separate treaty with Mecca. All the inhabitants were required to defend the oasis against attack. The new constitution was careful to guarantee the religious freedom of the Jewish clans, but expected them to provide aid to “whosoever wars against the people of this document.”21 Muhammad needed to know who was on his side and some of those who were unwilling to accept the terms of this treaty left the oasis. They included several of the hanifs, whose devotion to the Kabah required them to remain loyal to the Quraysh. Muhammad was still a controversial figure, but as a result of his victory at Badr, some of the Bedouin tribes were willing to become allies of Medina in the forthcoming struggle.
There were also changes in Muhammad’s family life. On his return from Badr, he learned that his daughter Ruqayyah had died. ‘Uthman was sincerely grieved, but was glad to accept the hand of his late wife’s sister Umm Kulthum and retain his close relationship with the Prophet. One of the prisoners of war was Muhammad’s pagan son-in-law, Abu l-‘As, who had remained true to the traditional faith. His wife Zaynab, who was still living in Mecca, sent the ransom money to Medina together with a silver bracelet that had belonged to Khadijah. Muhammad recognized it at once and became momentarily distraught with sorrow. He let Abu l-‘As go free without taking the ransom, hoping that this would encourage him to accept Islam. He refused conversion but sadly agreed to the Prophet’s request that he send Zaynab and their little daughter Umamah to him in Medina, because life would now be impossible for them in Mecca. It was also time for Muhammad’s youngest daughter, Fatimah, to be married, and Muhammad gave her to ‘Ali. The couple set up house near the mosque.
Muhammad also took a new wife: ‘Umar’s daughter Hafsah, who had been recently widowed. She was beautiful and accomplished, and at the time of her marriage to the Prophet was about eighteen years old. Like her father, she could read and write, but she also had ‘Umar’s quick temper. ‘A’isha was happy to welcome her into the household. ‘A’isha would be jealous of Muhammad’s other wives, but the growing bond between their fathers made these two girls firm friends. They particularly enjoyed ganging up together against the stolid, unimaginative Sawdah.
‘A’isha may by this time have moved into the apartment that had been prepared for her in the mosque, though Tabar
i says that because of her youth she was allowed to remain for a while longer in her parents’ house. Muhammad was an indulgent husband. He insisted that his wives live frugally in their tiny, sparse huts, but he always helped them with the household chores and looked after his own personal needs, mending and patching his clothes, cobbling his shoes, and tending the family goats. With ‘A’isha particularly he was able to unwind, challenging her to footraces and the like. She had a sharp tongue and was by no means a shy or submissive wife, but she liked to spoil Muhammad, anointing his hair with his favorite perfume, and drinking from the same cup. One day, while they were sitting together, the Prophet busily repairing his sandals, she saw his face light up at a passing thought. Watching him for a moment, she complimented him on his bright, happy expression, and Muhammad got up and kissed her forehead, saying “Oh ‘A’isha, may Allah reward you well. I am not the source of joy to you that you are to me.”22
Muhammad lived cheek by jowl with his family and companions and saw no opposition between his public and private life.23 It was possible for his wives to hear every word that was spoken in the mosque from their apartments. The Emigrants had immediately noticed that the women of Medina were different, less rigorously controlled than in Mecca, and soon found that their own wives were picking up the free and easy ways of the Medinese women: ‘Umar was furious when his wife started to answer him back instead of meekly accepting his reproaches, and when he rebuked her she simply replied that the Prophet allowed his wives to argue with him.24 Trouble was brewing. Muhammad’s deliberate conflation of private and public was a blow to male supremacy, which can only exist if this distinction is maintained.
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