THE CALIPHATE: ITS RISE, DECLINE, AND FALL

THE CALIPHATE: ITS RISE, DECLINE, AND FALL

CAMPAIGN AGAINST MOSEILAMA

Battle of Yemama        

END OF 11 A.H. BEGINNING of 633 A.D.

 

But sterner work was in reserve for Khalid. In the centre of Arabia, a little towards the east, lay Yemama. The Beni Hanifa, a powerful branch of the great Bekr tribe, resided there. Partly Christian and partly heathen, they had submitted to Mahomet, but now were in rebellion  40,000 strong, around their Prophet Moseilama. It was against these that Khalid next directed his steps.

The beginning of Moseilama's story belongs to the life of Mahomet. Small in stature, and of mean countenance, he yet had qualities which fitted him for command.   He visited Medina with a deputation from his people, and it was pretended that words had then fallen from Mahomet signifying that he was destined to share with him the prophetic office. On this Moseilama advanced the claim, and was accepted by his people as their prophet. Summoned from Medina to abandon these pretensions, he sent an insolent reply claiming, to divide the land. Mahomet in anger drove the ambassador from his presence, and thereupon sent Rajjal a convert of the same tribe, to counteract the heresy and reclaim his brethren but Rajjal, like the rest, was gained over by the Pretender. Moseilama, we are told, deceived the people by pretended miracles, counterfeited the language of the Koran, and instituted prayers like those of Mahomet. In short, his religion was but a wretched travesty of Islam. Though strongly supported by his own people both as their Prophet and their Ruler, he now felt that the meshes of Abu Bekr began to close round him. The Caliph's Generals were steadily reclaiming the coast of the Persian Gulf, and Khalid whom he dreaded most was not far behind. At this juncture came tidings that the Prophetess Sajah, worsted as we have seen by the Beni Temim, was coming with troops against him. In his perplexity he sent her a friendly invitation. She came, and their sentiments were so much alike that the Prophet of Yemama took the Prophetess of Mesopotamia to wife, and celebrated their nuptials on the spot,—the dower to be one half the revenues of Yemama. After a few days, Sajah departed for her northern home and, like a meteor, vanished, just as she had startled Arabia by her advent. Parties of Mesopotamian horse still ranged over the land collecting her dues when Khalid's approach at once changed the scene; and Moseilama marching out with a heavy force to meet him, pitched his camp at Acraba.

Ikrima and Shorahbil, sent by Abu Bekr to quell the rising at Yemama, had already suffered badly at the hands of Moseilama from a hasty and ill-advised advance. The reverse was so serious that Abu Bekr wrote angrily to Ikrima,—"I will not see your face, nor shall you see mine, as now you are. Thou shall not return hither to dis­hearten the people. Depart unto the uttermost coasts, and there join the armies in the east and south." So, skirting Yemama, Ikrima went forward to Oman, there to retrieve his tarnished reputation. Shorahbil, meanwhile, was directed to halt and await the approach of Khalid. It was upon this reverse that Khalid, when summoned to Medina about the affair of Malik, received his commission to attack Moseilama. In anticipation of severe fighting the Caliph sent with him a fresh column of veterans from amongst the men of Mecca and Medina. Thus reinforced Khalid returned to his camp at Bitah, and advanced in strength to meet the enemy.

While yet a march from Acraba, Khalid surprised a mounted body of the Beni Hanifa under command of their chief Mojaa. They were returning from a raid against a neighbouring tribe, unaware of his approach. But as they belonged to the enemy, they were all put to the sword excepting Mojaa, whom Khalid spared in hope of his being useful on the morrow, and kept chained in his tent under charge of Leila his lately espoused wife.

Next day the armies met upon the sandy plain of Acraba. The enemy rushed on with desperate bravery. "Fight for your loved ones" they cried,—"it is the day of jealousy and vengeance; if you be worsted, your maidens will be ravished and your wives dragged to their foul embrace!" So fierce was the shock that the Moslems were driven back and their camp uncovered. The wild Bedouins entered the tent of Khalid, and, but for the chivalry of her captive, who conjured his countrymen to spare a lady of noble birth, Leila would have perished by their swords. “Go, fight against men”, Mojaa cried, “and leave this woman”, on which they cut the tent-ropes and departed. There was danger for Islam at the moment. Defeat would have been disastrous indeed, the Faith could hardly have survived. But now the spirit of the Moslems was aroused. To stimulate rivalry between the Bedouins and City Arabs of his force, Khalid made them to fight apart. On this they rallied on the other,—"Now," cried the sons of the desert," we shall see carnage wax hot amongst the raw levies of the town. We shall teach them how to fight!" Prodigies of velour were fought all round. Tradition dwells with enthusiasm on the heroic words and deeds of the leaders, as one after another they fell in the thick of battle. Zeid, brother of Omar, leading the men of Mecca, singled out Rajjal and, reproaching his apostasy, dispatched him forthwith. A furious south wind charged with desert sand, blinded the Moslems and caused a momentary check. Upbraiding their slackness, Zeid cried out,—"Onwards to those that have gone before! Not a word will I speak till we drive these apostates back, or appear to clear me before my Lord. Close your eyes and clench your teeth. Forward like men!" So saying, he led the charge and fell. Abu Hodzeifa, with leaves of the scripture stuck on the flagstaff which he bore, and calling out, "Fight for the Koran, ye Moslems, and adorn it by your deeds!" followed his example and shared the common fate. His freedman seized the banner as it fell, and exclaiming "I were a craven bearer of the sacred text if I feared death, plunged with it into the battle and was slain. Nor were the Men of Medina far behind. Their Commander as they gave way reproached them thus,— "Woe to you because of this backsliding. Verily, I am clear of ye, even as I am clear of these," pointing to the apostate enemy, and so he flung himself among them and perished in their midst. Animated thus, the rank and file charged furiously. Backwards and forwards swayed the line, and heavy was the carnage. But urged by Khalid's valiant arm, and raising the battle-cry "Ya Mohammeda!" the Moslem arms at length prevailed. The enemy broke and fled. "To the garden!" cried Mohakkem, a brave leader of the Beni Hanifa; "to the garden, and close the gate!" Taking his stand, he guarded their retreat as they rushed into an orchard surrounded by a strong wall, and Moseilama with them. The Moslem troops following close, swarmed round the wall but found the entrance barred. At last one cried, "Lift me aloft upon the wall." So they lifted him up. For a moment, as he looked on the surging mass below, the hero hesitated; then, boldly leaping clown, he beat right and left, until he reached the gate, and threw it open. Like waters pent up, his comrades rushed in; and, as beasts of the forest snared in a trap, so wildly struggled the brave Beni Hanifa in the Garden of Death. Hemmed within the narrow space, hampered by the trees, arms useless from their very numbers, they were hewn down and perished to a man. The carnage was fearful, for besides the "thousands " (as tradition puts it) slain within the walls, an equal number were killed on the field, and again an equal number in the flight. The Moslems too, despite their splendid victory, had cause to remember the "Garden of Death," for their loss was beyond all previous experience. Besides those killed hand to hand in the garden, great numbers fell in the battle. The Refugees lost 36o men, and the Men of Medina 300, nearly 700 in all; while the slaughter amongst the Bedouins, though somewhat less, raised the loss be­yond 1200, besides the wounded. Amongst the dead were nine-and-thirty chief Companions of the Prophet. At Medina there was hardly a house, whether of Refugees or Citizens, in which the voice of wailing was not heard.

Moseilama was slain by Wahshi the same negro warrior who, swinging round his head a javelin after the savage Ethiopian style, had on the field of Ohod brought Hamza to the ground. After the battle, Khalid carried the chief Mojaa, still in chains, over the field to identify the dead. Turning the bodies over, they came upon a stalwart figure. "Look, was this your Master?" said Khalid. "Nay," replied Mojaa, "that was a nobler and a better man";—it was the brave Mohakkem who, covering the retreat, was slain by the Caliph's son. Entering the "Garden of Death," among the heaps of mangled dead they stumbled on one of insignificant mien. " This is your man," Mojaa said, as he turned the body of Moseilama on its side;—"truly ye have done for him!" "Yea," replied Khalid, "or rather it is he that hath done for you all that which he hath done."

The Musulman horse now scoured the country and every day brought in bands of prisoners. Aware that after their crushing defeat the Beni Hanifa were incapable of resistance, their chief Mojaa bethought him of a stratagem. He represented that the forts and fastnesses were still held in force throughout the country; in proof of which he sent to tell the aged men, the women,—all that were left behind, and even the children,—to line their battlements in warrior's disguise. Persuaded thus that the inhabitants would fight to the last, and seeing the army wearied and anxious for their homes, Khalid concluded a truce more favorable than he would otherwise have given. When Mojaa's artifice came to light, Khalid was angry; but ex­cusing him on the ground of patriotism, in the end stood by the treaty. No sooner was it concluded than he received a dispatch of unwonted severity from Abu Bekr, who, to strike terror into other apostate tribes, commanded that not a single fighting man of the rebel and ungodly race be spared. Fortunately this the truce forbade; the Beni Hanifa were received back into Islam, and a portion only of the multitude were retained as prisoners. The campaign ended, Khalid sent a deputation of the tribe to Abu Bekr who received them courteously. “Out upon you” at first he said; "how is it that this impostor has led you all astray?" "Oh Caliph! they answered, "thou hast heard it all; he was one whom the Lord blessed not, nor yet his people"; and they repeated to him some of the things he used to say. "Good heavens!" exclaimed Abu Bekr; "what kind of words are these? There is neither sense in them for good nor yet for evil, but a strange fatuity to have beguiled you thus." So he dismissed them to their homes.

Among the slain are not a few names familiar to the student of the Prophet's life. The carnage amongst the "Readers" (those who had the Koran by heart) was so great as to give Omar the first idea of collecting the Sacred text, "lest any part of it should be lost." At the death of his brother Zeid who had shared with him all the dangers of the early battles of Islam, Omar was inconsolable. "Thou art returned home," he said to his son Abdallah, "safe and sound; and Zeid is dead. Wherefore was not thou slain before him? I wish not to see your face." "Father," was his reply, "he asked for martyrdom, and the Lord granted it. I strove after the same, but it was not given unto me." Such was the spirit of these Moslem warriors.

Khalid again signalized his victory by wedding a captive maid upon the field. "Give me thy daughter to wife," he said to Mojaa, the same who had so faithfully defended his bride in the hour of peril. "Wait," replied Mojaa; "be not so hasty; thou wilt harm thyself in the Caliph's eyes, and me likewise." "Man, give me thy daughter!" he repeated imperiously; so Mojaa gave her to him. When Abu Bekr heard of it, he wrote him a letter sprinkled with blood. "By my life! thou son of Khalid's father, thou art a pretty fellow, living thus at thine ease. Thou weddest a damsel, whilst the ground beneath the nuptial couch is yet moistened with the blood of twelve hundred!" The reproof fell lightly upon Khalid. "This is the work," he said as he read the epistle, "of that left-handed fellow," meaning Omar. The sentiment, however, was Abu Bekr's own; but the "Sword of the Lord" could not be spared.

We shall meet Khalid next in Chaldea, by the banks of the Euphrates.

Meilleures salutations. Youssef CHARHABAILI.