Not long after, I saw a minuscule thing coming to me from that direction; I thought it was a bird of some kind. Strange enough, the bird came to me so abruptly that I heard its sound only after it passed me… Guess what? It was not a bird; it was a fighter jet. This time, I knew where to look, and I followed it for the short while it played pick-a-boo with me.

The following day, mom took me to the celebration arena for a national day. I couldn’t believe my eyes, everywhere was full of fighter jets; but my eyes looked for the one that mesmerized me the day before. And, it was standing right there, waiting for me to come. I approached it with respectful steps, and carefully touched it. It was so cold and tough, yet so beautiful. That day, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. The smell of the jet fuel coming from the engines was so powerful that even I could fly with that kind of a drink.

“Hey; come here” I heard someone calling me. There was really nobody around. “Follow the sharp smell, come on here,” insisted the voice. Was I daydreaming, or had I been poisoned by the jet fuel and lost my conscience? Yeah, yeah, the voice was coming from the rear-end of the engine. It was the nozzle that was talking to me.

The moment I realized who was talking to me, I found myself in the circular, hollow structure of the nozzle. I was too nervous and surprised at first, but after a moment of looking around admiringly, I spoke with the words: “I know the inferno fire that you are exhausting. Isn’t it beautiful? You are so powerful. You are the one that is powering this beauty in the sky.”

The nozzle was not happy to hear my words of flattery. “Hey little boy, you know something, but you don’t know everything. Yes, it is true that I am exhausting that violent river of gas. You are right that this stormy exhaust is in the heart of this beauty in the sky. But you have got to learn more. I am only a solid duct that is accelerating what comes into me. I have no power to compress that humongous amount of air into a volume as small as a bird’s nest. I am completely unable to heat up the air to inferno level. And, the beauty in the sky is not taken up there by me either.”

I was totally disappointed and frustrated by the nozzle. I had thought for an instant that it was my hero; but now, my dreams were destroyed. I felt all alone in a desert. The nozzle must have realized my situation, so it picked up again: “Come on. I am going to introduce you to the unseen heroes behind our mysterious beauty. I am going to show you the inside.”

I was truly perplexed. What else could be more mysterious than a speaking nozzle? The voice of the nozzle slowly diffused into the deep and dark hallway into the engine, and I followed it. Soon, I came by long towers that had a nicely curved shape. As soon as I stepped near them, the floor that the towers were built on started moving. In the midst of this earthquake and a blinding darkness, I could faintly see another row of towers that were stagnant. I threw myself towards them. As I was dealing with my horrified and troubled soul, I heard a thunderous voice that reverberated everywhere:

“How nice to see you here, Adam!” I was doubly shocked. Not only was this unseen thing talking to me, but it also knew my name. “Do you know me?” I replied. “How could I miss your glittering eyes fixed at us whenever we pass over you? I am the turbine, one of the unseen heroes. I am the one that powers the compressors that squeeze the air. I am the one that faces the hot air before it goes into the nozzle.”

Wow, this was the man; this was the legendary hero behind the beauty in the sky. I looked at its towers that displayed nobility and their curved surfaces that embodied beauty. As I was losing myself in admiration, I heard the voice again:

“These are the eyes that I have been seeing every time we passed over you. But I have to tell you something. What you are looking for is not me either, because I cannot create the hot air that energizes everything, including me. Despite the beauties and power embodied in me, I am not the essence that bears the real beauty you are looking for.”

What was that supposed to mean? First the nozzle, now the turbine; every time, I am being attracted, and then I am left alone with a sense of deception. Are these heroes making fun of my admiration of their beauty? If so, they don’t deserve my admiration anymore; if not, then why am I having this feeling of deception? Is it wrong to attribute hero status to something?

Lost in feelings and thoughts like these, I left the turbine, and proceeded further into the darkness. Not only didn’t I know where I was, but also I had no means to determine my whereabouts. In total silence and darkness, I sat at a place that felt like a smooth and large room. Suddenly, a wind started blowing with growing speed, and a constant noise occupied everywhere. I was alarmed and sought somewhere to cling to. With the help of lightning that seemed to come out of nowhere, I saw a cavity that looked safe. After a challenging crawl, I was there. Then, a second lightning came and everywhere burst into fires. As if winds from the hell were gushing out. My jaw dropped down, I stared at this miraculous display of fire.

“Welcome, finally you are here,” told a voice that was distinctly heard despite the violent storm. I felt like I am being driven through a scenario so that where ever I enter, I experience things that I was meant to. “Am I the hero of this scenario?”, I asked myself inside, and laughed at the idea. Upon seeing so many extraordinary things, my awe of the strange things was veiled with habituation. So, I couldn’t pay the respect that was due the voice I heard. Maybe because of this, I received a kick from behind, and I had to struggle against the winds of fire to get back to my seat where I was safe and comfortable.

“Hello, are you still there?” I asked. “Can you tell me where I am?” That distinct voice appeared again in my ears: “Indeed, I am here, but you weren’t!” I bowed my head with shame. Having hurt the only one that could help me in this situation was as foolish as it could be. “And I was with you all along from the start.” What was this? I didn’t know whether to feel ashamed because of my selfish and pragmatic sense of respect, or to burst into a thousand pieces for not having recognized the one who has been with me all along?

“This is as far as you can go in this story. You are in the place where the energy that empowers everything is revealed. It is the heart of the beauty that you have been admiring.” After a second of silence, “Did you find what you were looking for?” asked the voice. I had seen strange things, but none of them had satisfied my heart nor quenched my curiosity. A sad face was my response to the question, but I didn’t know if the voice could see my face. Apparently it did, so that it directed me to another place. “You see this violent fire going on, would you like to fly away with it?” Was this guy crazy? How in the world could I survive in fire? “Well then, there are two ways to get out of here. Either you go along the fire back to where you came from. Or, if you are not able to do so, you go forward.”

With that directive, I started crawling towards the front, into the strong wind. I came across a thing similar to the turbine, and then another hallway similar to the nozzle. At first I was puzzled, because I had seen the same things that I had seen on my way previously. Had I made a mistake and proceeded backwards? That mustn’t be the case, since I had moved away from the fire.

After this stupefying similarity, I was at the mouth of the cave where everything starts. I was able to see the wings too. But now, the aircraft was moving. All of the storm that was going on inside was for accelerating. The force of the acceleration was so strong that I slipped from where I was clinging, and found myself stuck at the beautiful front curve of the wing. Strange enough, the same voice welcomed me again: “Finally you are here.” I didn’t know whether to reply to it or to lose myself while watching the beauty of the aircraft as it soared into the air with an ever increasing speed. It definitely felt like the divers who hear that beautiful voice when they go deeper than they should. I could not resist melting my body in the excitement of the maneuvers. After a while, we were hundreds of meters above where we had started. Now, the aircraft was cruising, and despite the rareness of the experience, it felt like sitting in the living room. With the steadiness of my state, I found myself emerging from the depths of excitement.

“Have you found the beauty you are looking for?” asked the voice again, to which I said yes. “Where do you think that beauty is coming from? From the engines or from the wings?” That question was most unexpected. The engine itself was not able to fly, it was only able to create a strong push. The wings were only beautiful. They did not actively do anything. They only stood there in the wind, and then, lift was there. Without the air, the wings would not create anything. As for the air, we are completely sunken in it, let alone flying. “I don’t know where the beauty is coming from. There seems to be something missing in the ingredients that created the beauty of flight. None of the ingredients seems to originate it. It looks like you put the engine, the wings and the air in the pot, and suddenly something that you did not put comes into being.”

“But you did not realize this point until you made this journey, despite that you have been witnessing the same beauty all along. “

Why was that the case? Why did I have to make this incredible journey in order to become aware of this uncertainty in the source of beauty?

“When you are not actually in a journey like this, you take all the mysteries for granted, because you consider them natural, ordinary. But once you are in the journey, you realize something different that exists neither in you nor in the things you come across. It is as if somebody is tracking what is going on, and whenever the necessary ingredients are there, he secretly adds the missing spice into it at the right amount. And, then? Behold the beauty!”

To some it brings bliss, to others perdition

Suddenly shows up at an unexpected location

Beyond which is Paradise or the pit…

The spirit is anxious to flee this world,

Breaths dying down in gasps

Everyone broods by the cold corpse;

The steps of the Angel of Death echo all around

Lonely lives reach death alone

Falling, standing and crawling in this abyss

Horizons stalked by nameless fears

In the end, buried in the void within

For the believer, calls are heard from the beyond,

They may fall, but like a drop, they still reach the sea,

Transcending the limits, extending to infinity

Free from the narrow confines of the mortal abode.

They step into the garden of spirits,

Walking under arches like rainbow,

Showers of joy, springs of bliss overflow,

A life-long journey unfolds its mystery.

It was around dawn, and the day was not yet fully light. Rain the night before had left a thick cloud covering the scene. The music of bugs and the chanting of birds filled the air. Against a background of a slight breeze, which provided a smooth and continuous whistle, consecutive, rhythmic thumps could be heard. These thumps were the sounds of a giant’s footsteps as he was walking to work early in the morning.

Meanwhile, my grandpa and his friends were enjoying the water on the walkway. But a hot day was soon going to make the walkway the death bed of many of his friends. Aside from the heat of the day, the footsteps of the giants would bring to an end the lives of many others. Neither he nor his friends were aware of any of this. They were simply enjoying their water on the walkway.

That morning, the giant who was walking to work bent down towards my grandfather, grabbed a thin stick from the ground, and tried to kill him. Not ready for such an attack in the midst of his breakfast, my grandfather was stupefied, did not know what to do. He just spiraled away to escape the giant’s attack, as we always do in case of danger. But all was in vain; the giant would not give up.

Finally, the giant accomplished what he was trying to do, and thus my grandfather was saved from both the heat and the giant footsteps. It turned out that my grandpa had misunderstood the giant. Normally, other giants would walk on us, or would ignore us, and this giant was the same; or so he had thought. However, this one was trying to put the stick under my grandpa to lift him and place him onto the soil where he could be safe. My grandpa said that he appreciated this help more later when he heard his friends dying on that same walkway.

The story of a giant who was unlike others spread from the family to friends, and became known all around. The world underground rejoiced at the existence of this one giant who was not like others… Maybe there were other giants like him, too; and the underground world kept praying for those giants that they might be protected from things they were unaware of, just as that giant had saved my grandfather from things that he was unaware of.

After my grandfather’s times, his story became a nostalgic tale for the elders and a bedtime story for little ones. The world aboveground became worse than the world underground. Instead of long trees above with their roots under ground, you would see huge, tall rocks in both places. The rocks underground provided water to everyone, but the rocks aboveground only provided water to the giants. The roots of the plants and trees used the marrow of the earth to embellish it, but the long channels that the giants sank into the ground were like huge veins draining the earth to death. We ceased praying for them.

One day, we heard screaming among the giants about an asteroid heading directly towards the earth. The only thing they were worried about was the end of their own lives. We were not surprised by this selfish reaction to that event because of their selfish past on the earth. And the asteroid came…

It was foggy again, but not due to clouds; it was quite dark, but not due to dawn. The fog and the darkness were due to dust spread over the face of the earth. We were fortunate to be able to sustain our lives under such harsh conditions. As for the giants, they were not suffering much from the conditions, as they had taken shelter in special chambers built only for them. Being some of the few survivors of the impact, we were of significant use to them. After using the entire earth selfishly, now they were enslaving us. So, they still lacked our prayers for their protection. Could they ever figure out, despite their hardened hearts, why such tragedy had befallen them?

Not long after that time, we witnessed something totally incredible. One of the giants came out of the protection chambers to do something that was completely unexpected. He looked through his goggles at the sky and tried to take a deep breath. As he was coughing because of the dust in the air, he opened the nylon bag he was carrying. He sat on the ground, dug a hole with his hands, and uncovered the thing in the bag: a daisy plant. Was he going to plant it? But why? The chances of its survival were almost none. What benefit would it bring him, anyway, even if it survived for a day? He looked pleased with what he was doing. He even smiled at a worm that was escaping the hole he had dug for the flower. What was going on in his mind?

It was just at the moment he was about to plant the flower that the earth suddenly started shaking like crazy. The planet was dying because of the deep cracks caused by the impact of the asteroid. Now, neither the giant nor the flower had any chance of survival. He did not know what to do for a while; then he started shedding tears: “Oh my God! Oh my God!”

Then he saw the deep cracks forming near him, shaking and growing. It was as if the planet had started shouting at him in thousands of voices. He could not stand the quakes and fell down next to the hole, as if it were he, instead of the flower, that was going to be buried in it. At that moment, this giant was no different from us: lying on the ground, and seeking his way out of this doom. Who was there to help him? His cries were now screams: “Oh my God! Oh my God!”

All of a sudden, he stopped crying and started talking to someone, but we could not see anybody around: “Please, hold me tight. Do not leave me….” He continued, “But I can’t… I can’t….” Then, he tried to reach the flower that had rolled away from him when he fell down. He grabbed it and cradled it at his chest; but struck by a stone falling from one of the nearby rocks, he fell unconscious. As he was sinking into the growing cracks, we uttered a prayer for a giant who had planted a flower in his heart… The last prayer of worms, the last prayer for giants…

Seth Mette has a PhD in Aerospace Engineering and is currently working as a postdoctoral fellow at West Virginia University. He has a special interest in psychological fiction.

Where oaks once grew.

Power plants displace our cornfields

On that lovely land.

The breeze roughly sidles and bends

Over the purling brooks,

And all the mockingbirds hush

As the day droops.

Wailing moans heard everywhere

By countless orphans of the east,

Longing for a lofty peace,

Never knowing what fate conceives.

Neither chilly blizzards

Nor scorching sun,

Can lay a trap under its debris.

For those who learned too late, perhaps,

How to defy the pull of the sand.

What would it have to fear of the dogs or their barking?

The dogs continue to do what they are supposed to do

And the moon continues to beautify the face of the night.

A bit of weed floats on water

Yet the water does not lose its purity.

Mustafa¹ splits the moon in half

While Abu Lahab² utters silly curses.

Jesus revives the dead

While his enemies pull their beards out of hatred.

The sound of the dog never reaches the ear of the Moon,

If that moon is a friend of God”³

— M.J. Rumi, Mathnawi, “The Candy Seller Child (The Debtor Sheikh).”

The true “friends” of God reflect His light in their hearts, which have become like mirrors. Like the full moon on a bright night, they illuminate everything within their reach. They do not discriminate anyone; they can be called “champions of compassion without frontiers.” It is so difficult to contain light in a closed place, it seeps out and illuminates. Likewise, it is hard to confine the compassion of such people when they come in contact with others, their compassion and love touches, affects and transforms them. You cannot find any trace of the stereotypes of the idle or the harsh reactions of the conceited in them. They reach out and embrace. And the hatred, the misdemeanors, the biases, the bad habits, the doubts all dissolve and disappear within this embracing. In this article, we will present two examples of radiating compassion and love from the life of a famous scholar of Islam and a person of devotion, Bediuzzaman S. Nursi, and then turn to his inspiration for such outpourings.

Who was Bediuzzaman?

Said Nursi, also known as “Bediuzzaman” or “the wonder of the age” by his contemporaries, was born in eastern Anatolia (in modern Turkey) in a turbulent era towards the end of the nineteenth century.⁴ Earlier in his life, he was noted for his genius, unmatched scholarship and his balanced combination of Islamic spirituality with the duties of contemporary life. Over the course of his life, he inspired hundreds of thousands of students. Since his passing away in 1960, he has continued to inspire millions and his books remain as the bestsellers of all times in Turkey, as well as being translated into several languages. His main work, Risale-i Nur Collection (The Treatises of Light) is a collection of books that consists of more than 6,000 pages. This collection deals with topics such as logical arguments concerning the pillars of faith, the importance of worship, the significance of the Prophetic Tradition, the miracles of the Qur’an and the Prophet (peace and blessings upon him), consolation for the sick and elderly, treatments of perceived conflicts between science and religion, reflections on natural phenomena and the signs of the Hereafter, as well as perspectives of the believer and the disbeliever on the world and the consequences of these, among other matters.

The noteworthy stances of Bediuzzaman include his championing of representative democracy over monarchy and despotism among the tribes in Eastern Anatolia, as well as his support for republicanism, the marriage of natural sciences and theology, the complete rejection of gifts or donations, and his advocacy for dialogue among people of different faiths. He succeeded in securing funds from the Ottoman government of Sultan Reshad, as well as the subsequent Turkish Republican parliament, for the establishment of a university in eastern Turkey where theological and natural sciences would be integrated in a single curriculum.

Although Nursi supported the Anatolian resistance through his efforts in Istanbul, during the early years of the Turkish Republic, he was exiled by the government in fear that he might exert his influence on the people around him against the government. Though subsequent investigations failed to show any evidence for such political intentions, he ended up spending 25 years of his life in jail or in exile. In a piece he wrote later about these painful years, he said that he would not seek justice from God in the Divine court of the Hereafter if the people who had inflicted suffering on him had benefited from his works and died as believers.⁵ During these years, neighbors and witnesses reported in a collection of interviews published in Turkish that he used to spend most of his nights in prayers and remembrance, sometimes crying. In the prisons where he was held it was noticed that former criminals and killers, such as the so-called “Butcher Tahir” in the city prison of Afyon, were transformed into individuals who took care not to step on ants.⁶

In the following two stories, we will see examples of how this friend of God embraced people of diverse backgrounds and led them to become friends and fellow worshippers of God.

Bediuzzaman and the Two Famous Outlaws

During his exile in the city of Kastamonu, Bediuzzaman and his student from that town, Mehmed Feyzi, were climbing the skirts of the Karada€ (Black Mountain). Two famous outlaws had stopped to have something to eat by the road. Although these persons had been born into a Muslim community, they were living a wretched life full of crime and harassment. Mehmed Feyzi knew these people. They were notorious for their crimes around the city. Nobody dared say anything to them. Mehmed was worried about the safety of Bediuzzaman; so, he was praying silently for God to protect him.

Bediuzzaman walked by the men slowly, without saying anything to them.

The two outlaws looked at each other in surprise and one of them spoke:

–”Do you recognize this scholar?”

–”I do, indeed. I have heard that he is fearless. He is known for telling all the commandments of the Qur’an without hesitation.”

–”If that’s the case, how come he did not say a word to us?”

–”I think he thought it is of no use to try to teach anything to us. What does that tell you my friend? We are finished. We are doomed.”

The other one immediately grabbed the table with the liquor on it and threw it with all his power towards the mountain. And he proclaimed:

–”No my friend! We are Muslims and we will remain Muslims. We will clean ourselves of these sins; we will turn to God and obey His commandments. We will never mix in such dirty affairs again. Come, let’s go.”

The two men stood up and went to the public baths. After cleaning themselves they went straight to a mosque and sat down.

The members of the congregation were puzzled. They were pointing to the men and asking each other silently: “What are these guys doing here? What are they up to?” One of them asked the muezzin about them. The muezzin had heard about the incident on the mountain. He calmed them down and said: “Don’t worry. They have repented. They saw Bediuzzaman on his way to the mountain. They regretted what they have done and have come here to worship.”

Upon hearing these words, the congregation calmed down and continued with their duties. They had thought originally that these criminals had come to the mosque to kill people; they had not realized that the men had changed their lifestyle.

Bediuzzaman and the Gypsies

Bediuzzaman was exiled to the town of Emirda€. As they did every spring, the gypsies came from their dwelling places to the town and knocked on the doors, begging. Some of them were offered plastic utensils for laundry or household chores, goods that were no longer needed. They knocked on every door and asked, “In the name of God, please give us something.” They knocked on Bediuzzaman’s door as well. They did not know that the man who lived here was an old man exiled to the town with very little to live on.

Bediuzzaman opened the door and upon seeing who was there, he smiled. He gave them a piece of bread.

The next day, he was walking in the countryside with one of his students. He saw the gypsy tents and approached them. They immediately surrounded him and tried to kiss his hands. Some of them knew who he was. An older man among them approached Bediuzzaman and said: “Our teacher! We heard that you are a guest in this town. Please pray for us. We love you.”

Bediuzzaman replied: “Yes my brother. Indeed I love you too.” He put his hand on the old man’s back and continued: “You are among those who understand that this world is transitory. As nomads, you are my fellow travelers. I am a nomad like you.”

Upon reading incidents like the ones here, one wonders: Was Bediuzzaman the first devout Muslim to display such acts of compassion? Or did he have a teacher? And the answer is simple: He valued and championed the importance of the prophetic tradition of Muhammad, peace and blessings upon him; it was that very tradition⁷ that provided him with the source of his compassion that had no frontiers. Here is a striking example from the life of Prophet that shows the depth of this compassion:

The Mock Call to Prayer

Abu Mahzura tells his story:⁸ We were a group of 12 people and came across God’s Messenger on the road to Hunayn. When the time for prayer came, a muezzin began to recite the call for prayer. As he was reciting the words, we mocked him by repeating his words in a funny manner. I was leading the ridicule. The Prophet heard us and summoned us.

“Whose voice was it that I heard?” he asked. Nobody answered. He then listened to each of us individually and discovered that mine was the leading voice. He signed to the others to leave. He then turned to me and said: “Go ahead and recite the call to prayer.” I stood up with my head bowed down, but could not say anything as I did not remember the words. At that moment the Prophet was the worst person in my mind and the thing he was asking me to do was the worst thing to do. After seeing my silence, the Prophet taught me the words of the call to prayer, one by one. Then he gave me some money. He caressed my forehead, my face and breast and prayed “May God bless and protect you.” Then I asked, “O Messenger of God, would you allow me to make the call to prayer in Makka?” he answered, “I give you that permission.” At that moment, he was the most beloved person on earth to me.

This story illustrates beautifully the transformation of a man who was ridiculing something sacred to the believers into a different man devoted to serving the faith. With his compassion and patience, God’s Messenger had no trouble discovering and polishing a jewel. We can see a similar transformation in the incident of the man who urinated in the Prophet’s mosque.

The Man Who Urinated in the Mosque

In the Qur’an, God tells His Messenger: If you had been rough and hard-hearted with them, they would certainly have dispersed from around you (Al Imran 3:159). Indeed, the Prophet was known as the most compassionate and loving member of the community, and was able to balance these traits with his other roles as community leader and statesman. Abu Hurayra reported:⁹ A bedouin urinated in the mosque and some people rushed to beat him. The Prophet said: “Leave him alone and pour a bucket of water over it. You have been sent to make things easy and not to make them difficult.’’ Afterwards the Prophet called the man and gently explained to him that this was a place of worship and that it should be kept clean. Apparently, this person understood the point, for he was later observed in the mosque in his best clothes.

Conclusion

We have seen two examples of radiating compassion and love in a 20th century student of an eternal teacher and two examples from the life of his teacher. These examples are intended to show only the tip of an iceberg for those who are interested in exploring the spiritual dimension of Islam. At a time when this faith is associated with heinous crimes against humanity, it should be the duty of the inquisitive mind to transcend common stereotypes and explore the depth of spiritual richness in this source, which has produced world-renowned spiritual masters such as Rumi, the author of the verses at the beginning of this article, and continues to inspire hundreds of millions of people.

Notes

1. Referring to Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, whose other name is Mustafa, or the chosen one, and to his miracle of splitting the moon in half, as mentioned in the chapter “The Moon” of the Qur’an.
2. Referring to the uncle of the Prophet who was one of the fierce enemies of Islam, and who strove in vain to undermine the Prophet’s mission.
3. Translation by the author from original in Turkish.
4. Vahide, S., Islam in Modern Turkey, State University of New York Press, New York: 2005.
5. ibid.
6. Necmeddin Sahiner, Son Sahitler Bediuzzaman Said Nursi’yi Anlat›yor (Last Witnesses Tell of Bediuzzaman Said Nursi), Nesil Yayinlari, Istanbul: 2005.
7. Gulen, M. F., The Messenger of God, The Light, Inc., Izmir: 2005.
8. Hadith Encyclopedia, Harf Information Technology, Cairo: 1996.
9. Khan, M., Sahih al-Bukhari: The Translation of the Meanings, Darussalam Publishers, 1997.

References

• E.H. Whinfield (Translator), The Mathnawi: The Spiritual Couplets of Maulana Jalalu-D-Din Mahammad I Rumi, Watkins Publishing Ltd., 2002.
• Reynold A. Nicholson (Editor), Mathnawi of Jalaluddin Rumi, Gibb Memorial Trust; Set of 3 Books edition (June, 1990).
• C.Barks, Essential Rumi, Harper San Fransisco, 1997.
• Abdulbaki Golpinarli, Mesnevi Tercemesi ve Serhi (In Turkish), Inkilap Kitabevi, Istanbul, 1990.

Al-Aqsa was fortunate to exist in the same time period as the Kabah. And, just like the Kabah, it emerged from the ground as if bursting forth to comply with orders coming from above. Sometimes it was exalted to the rank of being the niche for devout people, and at other times it served as the pulpit of holy individuals. For centuries, this sacred and blessed place opened its wings to its inhabitants, even at the most pitiless times of disbelief. It let believers breathe security while becoming the paradise of this life.

This sublime temple now looks at our faces with sorrow and exhaustion. Her face has been darkened by suffering, for she is far from what she once was: the source of thousands of holy experiences. When we contemplate al-Aqsa Mosque in this pitiful state, it feels like we are bleeding internally and can no longer breathe. This auspicious niche, this honored pulpit that once had celestial whispers coming to our hearts, now looks like a candle that has been put out, a skeleton about to collapse.

Al-Aqsa Mosque is a victim of injustice and cruelty. Her existence is squeezed in between her friends infidelity and her enemies torture. Once she had her lips at our hearts whispering tranquility, not knowing that in the future she would become a stammering tongue singing a song of sadness.

When I first saw her current appearance, I was deeply saddened. From now on, faithful hearts will not be able to meet and hug each other with love, or to roar Allah’s name among the walls of this place in which Prophet Adam’s voice still echoes, Prophet Abraham’s breaths are still felt, Prophets David’s and Solomon’s cries are still heard, and Prophet Muhammad’s journey to infinity to unite with his Beloved is still known. Alas, these doors will not be able to open wide to believers “ neither slowly nor quickly and without happiness and enthusiasm.

It looks like all of her dreams and fancies are now over, her surrounding lights turned off, the prayers to God heard no longer. It is said that even the rocks and trees have ears. Would that they had tongues too! Yes, for then they could express what they have been through. Perhaps then the people who did this would be afraid and abstain from their evil. Maybe then her faithless companions would come to their senses and rescue her from this tragic slavery.

‘Between my two wrinkled fingers,

a mess of fading, fretted threads

without particular line or colour

or order or significance: What is it?

(And his feet said.) your memories.

A servant as negligent as he can be

while still clinging to his job.

who answers my simplest needs

with slow, mocking disdain: Who is that?

your body.

Long-winded phrases that flap

aimlessly around my head

at home or in my office till (at last)

they find an open window and jump out:

What are these?

Your passions, loves or hates.

A dozen or so strangers who visit

if and only if I’ m very ill,

lay hypocritical hands on my forehead,

feeling my temperature and

their inheritance, then leave

holding their noses.’ Who are they?

your near relatives.

A narrow rectangular edifice

sinking on shallow foundations

designed to that servant’s specification,

open to any scavenging maggot or worm

that happens by: What is that?

The neat sum, the very grand total

of a lifetime’s shrewd, successful

property management – your grave.

The old man huddled his face in his hands, crumpled up like a lost or abandoned child. He heard his wife calling him once again, and complaining that his breakfast was getting cold. But he sat silent, listening to thoughts that voiced themselves inside his head or heart, from far off, as if from another life, a time long gone. And now and again his feet would answer those thoughts, taunting him: 

Before at last the great trumpet sounds

and sounds again,’ before its mighty echo

converts to an irresistible hail that blasts

open each anguished grave: before the hour

when every individual cell, howsoever

dispersed or decomposed. shall by Decree

be re-joined to every other individual cell.

down to the re-perfecting of a fingerprint:

before that hour, may be long before.

you shall hear the angels’ interrogations

howl in your marrowless, hollowed bones:

what is your religion and your worth?

Run, old man, run!

Where will you run?

Who came with clear warnings, reiterated,

and truth you recognized? Offered forgiveness

and you preferred your sins? Pointed you

to eternal light and you ran in to darkness?

Whose teaching called you the many times

you turned

away to make a killing in the market-place,

or to play hide and seek with your intentions.

promising to be virtuous after you were

wealthy?

or shame you dare not name him, still less

claim a corner/n his protecting shade!

Run, old man, ran!

Where will you run?

The order of things is not as it was.

There, in this life, your heart knew

it’s deepest need for forgiveness.

and you couldn’t careless. Here too,

your heart knows it’s deepest need,

but here the order is truth and justice.

A command joins every conscience 

to every sin, forgotten in this life or

remembered, slight or significant.

the whole chain of it’s circumstance.

antecedent or consequent, actual or

potential. Here your closest secrets

are opened. elaborated, pronounced out loud!

old man, old man!

those you betrayed know it now:

those you robbed know it now:

those you could have helped

but did not help, they are here

staring in your face! Where now,

Where will you run?

Here no hiding or seeking, no turning

aside from the Command: your limbs.

Eyes, ears, tongue, heart, brain, each

obedient, each omniscient tells all

it enacted or endured. Self-accused.

self-condemned, you sit whimpering

like a kitten trapped in traffic ,lost.

desolate, in a pool of shame smelling

worse than your own excrement!

Stinking, stupid feet! Why did you

lead me astray?’ Stinking, stupid man.

we obeyed your every command!

Run, then, if you can, run!

And do you remember the kitten?

Remember the blind man at the roadside

who, gesturing wildly with his stick,

made you stop your important car.

delayed your important appointment

You got out shouting at the blind man.

He only pointed down and said:

I can hear but cannot see to help

the poor thing, it’s hurt. You do it.’

Only then you saw the kitten, it’s tail

broken, it’s nerves shattered by the noise

of passing cars, trembling dreadfully.

covered in the dust of the road.

Do not deny that you considered

carrying the little thing to safety.

Do not deny that you knew what to do.

You knew. But wouldn’t dirty your hands

on it’s dusty fur, not before a business

appointment .So you drove round it

fast leaving the kitten in it’s little agony

and the blind man in confusion.

Run, old man run!

But you have nowhere to run!

The man took his hands from his face

and stared at his feet and said: ‘I will run

to the forgiveness of my Lord. There is no

sin so great that it is greater than His

mercy’. His feet did not reply. Then, much to

his surprise, the old man saw bed and bed

ding disappear from beneath his feet Two

shackles of massive iron rose up and locked

upon each of his ankles: from the shackles

enormous chains, likewise made of massive

iron, descended into a bottomless dark

ness. But the man kept his wits about him

and said in his heart atubu ilayk,

Allahumma, atubu ilayk. The chains fell

away and the darkness closed up. Only the

shackles remained and their weight was

such that the man could not move his legs.

let alone his feet. So he repeated what he

had said in his heart, ever more earnestly.

until the shackles opened. He could now

move his feet but dared not waiting for the

shackles to disappear as the chains had.

But they remained open upon his bed. his

ankles resting in them. Indeed, no matter

how often he urged the words of repen

tance, the shackles remained. So he accepted

them as they were, to serve as a

reminder of the jaws of death.

He heard his wife call him a third time to

come down for breakfast. He got up from bed

briskly and went to wash himself. Not in

preparation for work but, for the first time since (so

long ago, alas) his father had given him a choice

in the matter, in preparation for

prayer.

‘He died so young’ they said, and added: He had so many things to do’.

It was true, that I had left a great deal of work half done; I had not set up a good business for my son, completed the payment of the instalment of the car and TV. Winter was around the corner, I had not prepared the leaking roof or bought the fuel. Now the dream to establish a big firm and employ my friends had dispersed to nothing.

Suddenly, I was irritated by a noise, as if coming through a microphone echoed in every remote cell of my brain:

‘It is all over!’

I wished it had not been all over, I did not know why the accident happened. I was a good driver.

As I was trying to recall the events that had taken place, I realized that my friends surrounding the coffin were covering it by putting the lid over me. No matter how much I wanted to shout, I could neither move nor speak. I was in complete darkness and turned my eyes towards the light coming from the gaps in the coffin.

I said to myself in horror:

‘Oh my God! What am I going to do now?’

Seized with fear, I could think of nothing. Later, I was lifted on to their shoulders as they began to carry the coffin. Hearing the noise coming from outside understood that it was raining. The noise of the raindrops mingled with the creaking of the coffin. We must have gone to the mosque for the funeral prayer.

I remembered that although the mosque was so close to my home, I had never paid it a visit. I had planned to start prayers after the age of fifty and I would quit the bad habits everyone complained about. If the accident had not occurred, I would have been a good fellow.

The voice that I heard before repeated, ‘It is all over!’ A little later my funeral prayer was completed. The Imam was asking people’s opinion, as to ‘what kind of character I was’. I knew that among them were some eight or ten persons did not give an opinion. I accepted that I had given them some evil and harm, but if the accident had not occurred, I would have been pleased to make amends and duly compensate them for the equivalent of any harm done. After the prayer in the mosque was completed, I was lifted on to the shoulders again. Due the inclination of the coffin, I understood that we were on the road uphill to the grave. I was aware that it was pouring rain and the rain was seeping through the cracks in the coffin on to the shroud, making it damp. Nevertheless, I tried to listen to the conversations coming from outside. Some of my friends were talking about the stagnation of the market, some were commentating on a Western film they had seen the previous evening on the TV. Another, carrying my coffin whispered:

‘What a bad day the deceased chose to die, we have got wet through and through’.

I could not believe what I heard and I thought that I must have misunderstood. Were they not the ones for whom I had sacrificed my wealth and my health?

A little later my journey finished and my coffin was put down on the ground. The lid was removed again. The arms holding my weak and lifeless flesh put it into the hole where a little water had collected. Lying on the ground, I looked around:

‘Oh my God, was it a grave?’ I did not know why I had not thought until then that I would be buried in a grave. No one heard my silent cries and my best friends seemed to be competing each other to cover my body with thick boards.

I was in complete dark once more, I began to pray with all my cells;

‘Oh my merciful God’ I said, ‘Is there another chance to be a real servant of Yours?’

The same voice repeated,

‘It is all over, everything has finished.’

I was shaken by the noise of the earth, which clammered like thunder as it was been thrown on the boards. With a final effort to get up, I opened my eyes. I was lying on my comfortable bed and it was all a nightmare. One of my neighbours, a doctor, was standing at the bedside.

‘It is all over,’ he repeated, ‘You are all right’.

I sat up slowly from the bed, I was dripping with perspiration, feeling I had lost twenty kilos weights. It was raining heavy in the outside and the whole house was shaken by thunder.

While I was trying to recover myself in front of the bewildered eyes of the others, I whispered:

‘Oh my Lord, a thousand thanks to You. What would I do, if You had not given me another chance to be an obedient servant to You?’

‘O people of Quraysh! It is God who has created the sheep. He it is who has sent down rain from the skies of which they drink and He has caused fodder to grow from the earth with which they are fed. Then even so you slaughter them in names other than His. Indeed, I see that you are an ignorant people.’

Zayd’s uncle al-Khattab, the father of ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, seethed with anger. He strode up to Zayd, slapped him on the face and shouted:

‘Damn you! We still hear from you such stupidity. We have borne it until our patience is exhausted.’

Al-Khattab then incited a number of violent people to harass and persecute Zayd and make life extremely uncomfortable for him.

These incidents which took place before Muhammad’s call to prophethood gave a foretaste of the bitter conflict that was to take place between the upholders of truth and the stubborn adherents of idolatrous practices. Zayd was one of the few men, known as hunafa’ (sing. hanif,), who saw these idolatrous practices for what they were. Not only did he refuse to take part in them himself but he refused to eat anything that was sacrificed to idols. He proclaimed that he worshipped the God of Ibrahim and, as the above incident showed, was not afraid to challenge his people in public.

On the other hand, his uncle al-Khattab was a staunch follower of the old pagan ways of the Quraysh and he was shocked by Zayd’s public disregard for the gods and goddesses they worshipped. So he had him hounded and persecuted to the point where he was forced to leave the valley of Makka and seek refuge in the surrounding mountains. He even appointed a band of young men whom he instructed not to allow Zayd to approach Makka or enter the Sanctuary.

Zayd only managed to enter Makka in secret. There, unknown to the Quraysh, he met with people like Waraqah ibn Nawfal, Abdullah ibn Jahsh, ‘Uthman ibn al-Harith and Umaymah bint ‘Abd al-Muttalib, the paternal aunt of Muhammad ibn Abdullah. They discussed how deeply immersed the Arabs were in their misguided ways. To his friends, Zayd spoke thus:

‘Certainly, by God, you know that your people have no valid grounds for their beliefs and that they have distorted and transgressed from the religion of Ibrahim (Abraham). Adopt a religion which you can follow and which can bring you salvation.’

Zayd and his companions then went to Jewish rabbis and Christian scholars and people of other communities in an effort to learn more and go back to the pure religion of Ibrahim.

Of the four persons mentioned, Waraqah ibn Nawfal became a Christian. Abdullah ibn Jahsh and Uthman ibn al-Harith did not arrive at any definite conclusion. Zayd ibn ‘Amr, however, had quite a different story. Finding it impossible to stay in Makka, he left the Hijaz and went as far as Mosul in the north of Iraq, and from there south-west into Syria. Throughout his journeys, he always questioned monks and rabbis about the religion of Ibrahim. He found no satisfaction until he came upon a monk in Syria who told him that the religion he was seeking did not exist any longer, but the time was now near when God would send forth, from his own people whom he had left, a Prophet who would revive the religion of Ibrahim. The monk advised him that, should he see this Prophet he should have no hesitation in recognizing and following him.

Zayd retraced his steps and headed for Makka intending to meet the expected Prophet. As he was passing through the territory of Lakhm on the southern border of Syria, he was attacked by a group of nomad Arabs and killed before he could set eyes on the Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace. However, before he breathed his last, he raised his eyes to the heavens and said:

‘O Lord, if You have prevented me from attaining this good, do not prevent my son from doing so.’

When Waraqah heard of Zayd’s death, he is said to have written an elegy in praise of him. The Prophet also commended him and said that on the day of Resurrection ‘he will be raised as having, in himself alone, the worth of a whole people.’

God, may He be glorified, heard the prayer of Zayd. When Muhammad the Messenger of God rose up inviting people to Islam, Zayd’s son Sa’id was in the forefront of those who believed in the Oneness of God and who affirmed their faith in the prophethood of Muhammad. This is not strange, for Sa’id grew up in a household which repudiated the idolatrous Quraysh and he was instructed by a father who spent his life searching for Truth and who died in its pursuit.

Sa‘id was not yet twenty when he embraced Islam. His young and steadfast wife Fatima, daughter of al-Khattab and sister of ‘Umar, also accepted Islam early. Evidently both Sa‘id and Fatima managed for some time to conceal their acceptance of Islam from the Quraysh and especially from Fatima’s family. She had cause to fear not only her father but her brother ‘Umar who was brought up to venerate the Ka’ba and to cherish the inseparability of the Quraysh and their religion.

‘Umar was a headstrong young man of great determination. He saw Islam as a threat to the Quraysh and became most violent and unrestrained in his attacks on Muslims. He finally decided that the only way to put an end to the trouble was to eliminate the man who was its cause. Goaded on by blind fury, he took up his sword and headed for the Prophet’s house. On his way he came face to face with a secret believer in the Prophet who, seeing ‘Umar’s grim expression, asked him where he was going.

‘I am going to kill Muhammad,’ ‘Umar answered.

There was no mistaking his bitterness and murderous resolve. The believer sought to dissuade him from his intent but ‘Umar was deaf to any arguments. He then thought of diverting ‘Umar in order to at least to gain time to warn the Prophet of his intentions.

‘O ‘Umar,’ he said, ‘Why not first go back to the people of your own house and set them to rights?’

‘What people of my house?’ asked ‘Umar.

‘Your sister Fatima and your brother-in-law Sa‘id. They have both forsaken your religion and are followers of Muhammad in his religion…’

‘Umar turned and made straight for his sister’s house.

There he called out to her angrily as he approached. Khabbab ibn al-Aratt who often came to recite the Qur’an to Sa‘id and Fatima was with them then. When they heard ‘Umar’s voice, Khabbab hid in a corner of the house and Fatima concealed the manuscript. But ‘Umar had heard the sound of their reading and when he came in, he said to them:

‘What is this haynamah (gibbering) I heard?’

They tried to assure him that it was only normal conversation that he had heard, but he insisted:

‘Hear it I did,’ he said, ‘and it is possible that you have both become renegades.’

‘Have you not considered whether the truth is not to be found in your religion?’ said Sa‘id to ‘Umar trying to reason with him. Instead, ‘Umar set upon his brother-in-law hitting and kicking him as hard as he could and when Fatima went to the defence of her husband, ‘Umar struck her a blow on her face which drew blood.

‘O ‘Umar,’ said Fatima, angrily. ‘What if the truth is not in your religion! I bear witness that there is no god but Allah and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.’

Fatima’s wound was bleeding, and when ‘Umar saw the blood he was sorry for what he had done. A change came over him and he said to his sister:

‘Give me that script which you have that I may read it.’ Like them, ‘Umar could read, but when he asked for the script, Fatima said to him:

‘You are impure and only the pure may touch it. Go and wash yourself or do ablution.’

‘Umar went and washed himself, and she gave him the page on which was written the opening verses of Surah Ta Ha. He began to read it and when he reached the verse,

Verily, I-I alone-am God, there is no deity but Me. So, worship Me alone, and be constant in prayer so as to remember Me.

He said:

‘Show me where Muhammad is.’

‘Umar then made his way to the house of al-Arqam and declared his acceptance of Islam and the Prophet and all his companions rejoiced.

Sa‘id and his wife Fatima were thus the immediate cause which led to the conversion of the strong and determined ‘Umar and this added substantially to the power and prestige of the emerging faith.

Sa‘id ibn Zayd was totally devoted to the Prophet and the service of Islam. He witnessed all the major campaigns and encounters in which the Prophet engaged, except Badr. Before Badr, he and Talha were sent by the Prophet as scouts to Hawra on the Red Sea coast due west of Madina to bring him news of a Quraysh caravan returning from Syria. When Talha and Sa‘id returned to Madina the Prophet had already set out for Badr with the first Muslim army of just over three hundred men.

After the passing away of the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, Sa‘id continued to play a major role in the Muslim community. He was one of those whom Abu Bakr consulted on his succession and his name is often linked with such companions as ‘Uthman, Abu ‘Ubaydah and Sa’d ibn Abi Waqqas in the campaigns that were waged. He was known for his courage and heroism, a glimpse of which we can get from his account of the Battle of Yarmuk. He said:

‘For the Battle of Yarmuk, we were twenty-four thousand or thereabouts. Against us, the Byzantine mobilized one hundred and twenty thousand men. They advanced towards us with a heavy and thunderous movement as if mountains were being moved. Bishops and priests strode before them bearing crosses and chanting litanies which were repeated by the soldiers behind them.

‘When the Muslims saw them mobilised thus, they became worried by their vast numbers and something of anxiety and fear entered their hearts. Thereupon, Abu ‘Ubaydah stood before the Muslims and urged them to fight.

“Worshippers of God,” he said, “help God and God will help you and make your feet firm.”

“Worshippers of God, be patient and steadfast for indeed patience and steadfastness (sabr) is a salvation from unbelief, a means of attaining the pleasure of God and a defence against ignominy and disgrace.

“Draw out your spears and protect yourselves with your shields. Don’t utter anything among yourselves but the remembrance of God Almighty until I give you the command, if God wills.”

‘Thereupon a man emerged from the ranks of the Muslims and said:

“I have resolved to die this very hour. Have you a message to send to the Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace?”

“Yes” replied Abu Ubaydah, “convey salam to him from me and from the Muslims and say to him: ‘O Messenger of God, we have found true what our Lord has promised us.”

As soon as I heard the man speak and saw him unsheathe his sword and go out to meet the enemy, I threw myself on the ground and crept on all fours and with my spear I felled the first enemy horseman racing towards us. Then I fell upon the enemy and God removed from my heart all traces of fear. The Muslims engaged the advancing Byzantine and continued fighting until they were blessed with victory.’

Sa‘id was ranked by the Prophet as one of the outstanding members of his generation. He was among ten of the companions whom the Prophet visited one day and promised them Paradise. These were Abu Bakr, ‘Umar, ‘Uthman, ‘Ali, ‘Abd al-Rahman ibn Awf, Abu ‘Ubaydah, Talha al-Zubayr, Sa’d ibn Abi Waqqas, and Sa‘id the son of Zayd the Hanif. The books of the Prophet’s sayings have recorded his great praises of the Promised Ten (al- ‘asharatu al-mubashsharun), and indeed of others to whom, on other occasions, he also gave good tidings of Paradise.

First of all, it should be noted that there is no general statement or decree in Islam that those who live in non-Islamic countries will go to Hell. Rather, the decree is this: if those who heard the message and invitation of the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace, and witnessed the truth and light of Islam, reject it out of spiteful obstinacy and shut their ears and turn away from it, they will go to Hell. To pretend to more mercy and compassion than the Compassion of God is the worst sort of impertinence. Whether those who have heard the Divine Message live in Islamic countries is less to the point than whether they heed and obey that Message: those who do not will indeed go to Hell and suffer eternally.

The question is one that has been treated at great length by the scholars of Islamic theology who have spoken and written fully on the import of Qur’an and Hadith on the subject. But why, when there are so many pressing issues today, do people dwell upon this sort of question? If they get the answer to it, how will it affect and change their lives? What will they gain concerning their life in the Hereafter? How will the answer affect the daily practice and lifestyles of those who ask it or of those on whose behalf it is asked?

Is there a difference between those who have gone into unbelief willfully and those who have had no opportunity to hear about Islam? Will the latter go into hell and suffer the same punishment? The answer will be given in the light of the views of the imams of Islamic theology.

The Asharis held that one who has not heard the name of God and has not been communicated to about Him, wherever and however he lives, will not be punished but rather ‘excused’: God, as He wills, rewards such people to the measure of the good they have done and they enjoy the blessings of Paradise.

The view of the Maturidis is somewhat similar to the Mu’tazilis. They hold that if one finds his Creator through the use of his reason, even though he does not now His Names or Attributes, he will be saved. But, if he does not find and know the Creator through his reason, he will not be saved. In fact, this position is not so different from that of the Asharis, although they do sound different at first hearing. According to the Maturidis, it does not matter where one lives. Whether a man lives in the mountains, in a desert or on an island, he can observe the rising and the setting of the sun and moon, the sparkling light of the stars, the balance and order of the creation, the splendour and regularity amid the enormous variety on the surface of the earth, the grandeur of mountains and the gentle, easing breezes on their slopes, the thrilling colours and movements of flowers, trees and animals. All these are signs of the Owner, Creator, Sustainer and Administrator of all things. One can thus observe and acknowledge the absolute existence, power and grace of the Creator without knowing His Names and Attributes, or His Books and Messengers. Such a person is among the excused. That is why, one should not rashly assert that people who live in non-Islamic countries will go to Hell if they do not believe in God. Rather, one must, at least, keep silence, given the views of the imams of Islam.

Imam Ashari deduces his judgement from the verse of the Qur’an: We would never visit our wrath on any community until We had sent a Messenger to give warning (al-Isra’, 17.15). So, someone may not be punished for a wrong until due warning has reached him through a true Messenger.

According to the Maturidis, reason (‘aql) is an important faculty capable of discerning good from evil, but it would be wrong to go too far and say that reason is able to work everything out by itself. That is why God commands the good and forbids the wrong, and never leaves the matter wholly to human judgement and experience which are fallible. He conveyed His commands and prohibitions to people through Messengers, and thus has never left them in obscurity. The Maturidi argument goes like this: ‘Aql can work out that adultery and fornication are evil, because genealogy and lineage are interrupted and lost, with consequent problems of, among other things, how to divide inheritances. ‘Aql can work out that theft is evil, because if it were normal to steal the belongings of one who acquired them by long hard labour, no one could live in any degree of security. ‘Aql may discover that drinking is evil, because it causes one to lose one’s consciousness, damages health and makes one vulnerable to many illnesses, and can even affect one’s offspring. The same is true for what is good. Justice, doing well by others, etc., are all recognized as good by ‘aql.

Faith in God is also a good that ‘aql can grasp because faith leads us to satisfaction and inward contentment. Even in this world, we begin to sense the contentment that we will have in paradise. The way to faith is not so difficult as to be inaccessible by ‘aql. As in the case of the Bedouin, who came to the Prophet and explained how he attained faith: ‘Camel droppings point to the existence of a camel. Footprints on the sand tell of a traveller. The heaven with its stars, the earth with its mountains and valleys, and the sea with its waves- don’t they point to the Maker, All- Powerful, Knowing, Wise and Caring?’ This bedouin attained faith in God through the use of his mind, therefore we must not underrate the role of reason and thinking in faith. Setting out from this point, Maturidi says that one may find the Creator through one’s reason. There are many good examples from pre-Islamic times. One of them is Waraqa bin Nawfal, cousin of Umm al-Mu’minin, Khadijah, the first wife of the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace. Waraqa felt that the coming of the Prophet would be in his lifetime. When the first revelation came to Muhammad, upon him be peace, he saw the Angel Gabriel, filling up the horizon and the heavens with his grandeur. The Prophet came back to his home and, with still quaking heart, told Khadijah what he had seen and heard, begging her to cover him. Khadijah went to Waraqa to seek his advice, and he confirmed the truth of Muhammad’s mission and revelations. Waraqa was among those who knew and had felt many of the predicted signs of the Prophet’s coming, upon him be peace, which had already been fulfilled. So, understanding that no good would ever come from the idols, Waraqa ignored them, and through the use of his own judgement believed in the existence of the One God. Another such person was Zaid bin ‘Amr, the uncle of ‘Umar bin al-Khattab. He too did not incline to idols but worshipped the One God. He despised the idols and told people that they were false and no good could come from them. He knew that the coming of a Prophet was imminent. However, as God willed, he did not live long enough to see the prophethood of Muhammad, but intuitively knew of its coming. He called his son Sa‘id and ‘Umar and other family members to his death-bed, and said: ‘The light of God is on the horizon. I certainly believe that it will emerge fully very soon. I am already feeling its signs over our heads. As soon as the Prophet comes, without losing any time, go and join him.’ What human beings have themselves made cannot be God or answer their needs. For such things themselves need man. How can something which is itself in need and want, answer and provide the call of man? Through such simple reasoning a man can come to know of his need to know the Lord of the earths and the heavens. However, when a person gives the direction of his mind and reason to the Revelation, his need to know is itself met and the way to eternal bliss opened for him.

In sum, those who saw or have heard about the Prophet and the Qur’an, but have felt no need to investigate and learn about them will go to Hell. However, those who have remained in darkness involuntarily, and who have not had the slightest chance to hear and learn about the Qur’an and the Prophet, we may hope that they may benefit from Divine Grace, and not be blamed and punished for such wrongs as they may do in unwilled ignorance.

This question brings to mind the difference between the early and the present-day Muslims, and the duties of Muslims towards non-Muslims.

The first Muslims lived Islam fully, and represented and spread the Message revealed to Muhammad, upon him be peace, over a large area and awakened the collective conscience of mankind. Many centuries later, when we read their life histories, we can see such greatness in their Islamic thinking and living that it becomes obvious why people were not indifferent to the Message they brought. They were so fearless and indomitable, and so disregarded the concerns, the pleasures and sufferings of worldly life, that they made a lasting impression upon the world. Thanks to their sincerity and zeal, a great number of people heard the message of Islam within a very short time. They were so lofty, profound and thorough in their bearing and spirit that, by the time of Caliph ‘Uthman, the light of Islam had spread from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Aral Sea, from the stretches of Anatolia to the Great Wall of China. During the time of Mu’awiya, the Muslims reached the Atlantic Ocean. All of Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria were under the glorious flag of Islam. In less than 30 years, after the last revelation to the Prophet, Muslims reached these lands and laid the foundations of Islam there. Since they themselves lived Islam thoroughly, most people in those lands loved and respected them, and so admired and then embraced Islam. The Christians and Jews of those lands preferred government by the Muslims to that of their own people. When once the Muslims had to leave Damascus, the Christians together with their religious leaders gathered in the churches and prayed for them not to leave; then when the Muslims did go, the Christians promised them to live under their rule and pay the due tax if the Muslims were able to return in the future. Moreover, the sincerity of the Muslims brought a great number of people to enter Islam. Indeed, it is impossible to imagine how it could have been otherwise when those people saw the early Muslims so many of whom were each an ‘Umar in sincerity and commitment. They kept long vigils in the night and were legendary warriors on horseback during the day (rukhbanun fi l-layli wa fursanun fi n-nahar). They won over so many hearts and impressed people that all believed that the gates of the whole world would soon he open to them.

If we consider how people in the present age cannot successfully provide security even in a small area for even their own community, we begin to understand how great an achievement the early Muslim administrations were. In return for their security, reliability, wisdom, subtlety of mind and piety, the doors of many castles and cities were opened to them, not as honorary title-holders or visitors, but as governors and rulers.

When the Muslims took over Syria and Palestine, the commanders asked for the keys to the Masjid al-Aqsa. The Patriarch in charge of the keys told them that the description of the person who would take the keys was known to him, and that it was impossible to hand them over to any other person. While they were disputing, the Caliph “Umar set out from Madina. No one knew how he would be travelling. But it was known to the Patriarch and the priests how the one who would receive the keys would come. “Umar borrowed a camel from the treasury of the state (bait al-mal). He might have borrowed a horse, but he did not. He took it in turns to ride the camel with his servant who accompanied him on the journey. When the Muslims commanders heard about “Umar”s coming in that manner, they prayed that as they crossed the river of Jordan it would not be “Umar”s turn to walk. For the Byzantines were used to seeing pomp and magnificence in their rulers, and the Muslim commanders thought that it might be shaming for the Caliph to be seen by them leading a camel on which the servant rode while the Caliph held the reins with rolled-up trousers crossing the river. In fact, most of political pomp is injustice and inequity, and “Umar was trying to avoid it. However, everything was ordained by God, and what happened happened just as the commanders most feared. Moreover, “Umar” s garment, worn and battered by the journey, had many patches on it. When the Patriarch saw this figure, he cried out “This is the man whose description we have in our books. Now, I shall give him the key.”

Because of the special spiritual insight of their elders, the priests had already known how “Umar would look and how he would cross the river. The handing of the key and the Masjid al-Aqsa to the Muslims caused many to come into Islam. With whole hearted ardour, Uqba bin Nafi” was one of those who set forth to make other people hear about the Truth all over the world. The conquest of Africa fell to his lot. After successive victories, some people envied his fame and misinformed the Caliph about him. Thus, the Caliph was provoked and Uqba was dismissed from his post, arrested and kept from spreading Islam. Imprisoned for five years, his only sorrow and great longing were expressed thus: “I would like to have spread Islam all over Africa. I was prevented from achieving this. That is the only thing I regret”. Freeing and then appointing Uqba as the governor of Africa, Yazid did one good thing to counterbalance his many injustices. He reopened the way to the conquest of Africa and the spread of Islam in the region which had all but come to an end with the arrest of Uqba. Uqba reached the Atlantic Ocean in a single campaign. He could not help riding his horse into the ocean and crying. “O God! If this dark sea had not prevented me going further, I would carry Your Holy Name to overseas lands.” Had someone been there able to speak to him of the American continents, Uqba would surely have set about planning how to go over there. These are narrated just to make us think how Islam was represented in the past and how it is now. The early Muslims took the territories now called Azerbaijan, Iran, Iraq, North Africa, Bukhara, Tashkent, Samarkand—places which would produce Bukhari, Muslim, Tirmidhi, Ibn Sina, al-Farabi, Biruni—within 25 years, less than a single generation. It seems to have been achieved almost in the saying of it, in a single breath. Those first Muslims carried the message of Islam to almost every part of the then known world and made the glorious flag of “There is no god but God, Muhammad is His Messenger” wave over many lands. As for ourselves we are scarcely able to speak the Truth to the people around us, let alone go to foreign lands and tell the people there. Some of the people around us may be willing to listen to us, but we, alas, are unable to persuade even them. Our words come back to us, as if from walls of ice, cold. Our words do leave our mouths but do not penetrate the hearts and souls of people. In saying this, it is not our purpose to express ingratitude for the blessings we do have; we mean only to draw attention to the great, indeed immeasurabIe, distance between ourselves and the quality of men who were the Companions of the Prophet. They conveyed the Message to all peoples, and held this task as the very reason for their existence; when they could not do so, they felt sorrow and pain for the lands and peoples unaware of the Truth. By contrast, we are unable to represent Islam fully in our individual lives, still less convey its message to multitudes abroad. We have not abandoned our personal needs and preoccupations; we have not given the highest priority to working on the way of God. We remember too well, alas, the ways to our homes and our jobs, our worldly lives. Those of us who did go abroad, to non-Muslim countries, did so to earn dollars, or pounds, or marks, or francs—not to take the name of God to those lands. That is why we are unable to make them hear about the great Truths. If today the non-Muslims live in deviation, corruption and unbelief due to our neglect, ignorance, inability, laziness and incompetence, we shall certainly be summoned to account for it. If a question is asked of them in the Hereafter; then definitely it is asked of us as well. Giving lectures and organizing seminars and panels are not the only way to spread Islam. Such activities can be considered as a movement in the direction of being on the way God, but they do not themselves constitute the true service to Islam. If true service to Islam is likened to a great palace, our efforts so far are just like wandering about around the first entrance to the palace: we have not yet entered upon the task.

Therefore, many people are going astray. Occasionally, we have gone to those people to speak of Islam, but we have not saved ourselves from futile disputes and conflicts amongst ourselves. We have definitely not yet come near to representing Islam at the level of “Umar, Uqba bin Nafi”, and others of that quality. Who knows how their opponents were struck with fear at seeing their determined courage, their indomitable devotion to God; or struck with wonder by their reliability, generosity, justice, and humanity, and so moved to wonder about, then to embrace, Islam. The fact that many of the countries in which the Muslims live now, except far a few, were conquered by these early Muslims is evidence enough of what absolute sincerity in the way of God can achieve. Looked at from this direction, the question about non-Muslims, especially those living in non-Islamic countries, takes on a different aspect. We need to see those non-Muslims with a greater tolerance, and say: “Shame on us! We have not been able to convey the message of Islam, and bring them to the light out of the darkness they live in.” It will help to narrate here the true story of a German family. A Turkish worker found accommodation in the house of this German family. He paid great attention to his religious duties and performed them sensitively. Except for working hours, he never omitted, when with the family, to tell them about Islam. After a while the owner of the house became Muslim. His wife said to him, as did the wife of “Amir ibn Tufail: “We have always been together so far. Let us be together in the future, too. Together on the Bridge Sirat and also in Paradise. If Islam really makes one reach heavenly realms, as you said, why should I stay back from such a blessing while you enjoy it?” She completed her words with the Kalima. With their children coming into Islam the family group of Islam was completed and the home an outpost of Paradise. Several days later the owner of the house came and said these startling words to the Turkish worker: “I could not express my love and gratitude to you, because you have been an honoured guest to us. However, sometimes, I get very angry and wish to beat you up. You came and the Qur’an, the Prophet and God followed you. My home became a heavenly abode. But I had a father. He was a very straight, good man. He passed away a few days before you came. Why couldn”t you have come a bit earlier and told him of Islam as well?” These words indeed represent the voice, the complaint, the rebuke, of the whole non-Muslim world. We have failed to take Islam to them. Even in our own countries we have not been able to exert enough effort or give enough support to the cause of Islam to make our own people know it properly. Another aspect of the question is this: Those who took us away from Islam have always promised a Western life of Western standard. 150 years later we are still beggars at the doors of the West. Little has changed and we cannot say that we have progressed, in any important sense. Throughout a century and a half, the West have considered and treated us as servants: servants who leave their countries in return for poor wages. Even if we took them the golden principles of Islam, the best of messages, which will open the gates of Paradise for them, the Christians and Jews, will not accept them from us, they will not recognize the quality and worth of Islam in us. In part this is because we are despised labourers at their disposal. As ever, the rich man has difficulty imagining that he is in need of something from the beggar at his door.

Today, the Muslim world has not proved itself a worthy model for the rest of the world. Quite the contrary, it has been defeated in many fields many times over and become dependent on the Western countries. Only if we live and represent Islam thoroughly, and go to the non-Muslims with a commanding confidence in our own honour, dignity and greatness, and do so only for the sake of God, as our forefathers and the first Muslims did, then only have we a right to hope that they will listen to and accept the call of Islam. We cannot like, still less approve, their regarding us in the light of servants and beggars, yet, while we do not regain our true Islamic identity, we continue to give them an excuse to regard us so. Certainly, if they will be asked to account for their attitudes and behaviour in the Hereafter, so shall we, also, who have failed to convey Islam to them, be questioned and chastised for that failure. So, the responsibilities of both Muslims and non-Muslims should be considered common and equal. Judgements about them should be made justly and uprightly. We are far from any understanding that condemns all non-Muslims to Hell simply for their being non-Muslim. Equally, we are far from such vain day-dreaming as to suppose that by stepping out one day and in a perfunctory manner, mentioning the worth of Islam, we shall get people to follow us. We believe that there will be changes in the balance of the world in the near future. Especially in Turkey, the Turkic countries, Egypt, Pakistan, and in some other places, Muslims will regain their consciousness and raise up strong persons able to turn away from pursuing worldly interests for the sake of establishing Islam and its high values among other peoples and other countries besides their own. Only through sustained, sincere efforts, will Islam be a major factor in the balance of the world and be respected, and the voice of Muslims calling non-Muslims to Islam be heard. That is not something impossible. Rather it will certainly happen. But those who will manage it will be men and women of good character whose very souls are bonded with Islam, not those inconsistent and inadequate people who are under the impress of their bodily needs and who concern themselves with Islam, as it were, only in their spare time.