Yaser M. Haddara

I set this blog up several months ago. At the time I thought I would just get on and it would be a breeze. After all, I am the kind of person that’s almost always talking, so you would think that some of these words would be fit to print.

But for some reason I found myself hesitating. I kept thinking of various things that occupy me from time to time. Some of them seemed just plain pretentious to post. Others fell in the category of things I really don’t want to share with anyone. Yet others were in the cateogry of things no one in their right mind would want to hear about. And there were quite a few that I wanted to avoid simply because I don’t want to get labeled right from the get-go. (Inshaa Allah, I’ll eventaully use this space to muse about labels, what I mean by labeling, and why I don’t really mind being labeled as long as it’s not just on the basis of the first words out of my mouth).

So I turned to various people asking for suggestions on what I can write. One friend knows that I sometimes get blessed with the opportunity to share my thoughts or feelings with brothers and sisters that seem to find them worth being shared (aka I get invited to give talks). He suggested that on each such occasion I could summarize my thoughts here and allow my blog to include an extention to the discussions. Sounded like a reasonable thing to try so here goes.

The MSA sisters at McMaster are starting a sisters weekly gathering. They asked me to talk about the importance of this gathering, what they could try to get out of it and why, and generic thoughts about how to go about it, commitment, etc.

One thing that Mac students (at least) have figured out by now is that I almost never prepare my talks. There are some advantages to this. One time I was asked last minute to participate on a panel as a replacement for a no-show. I wound up planning my talk on a napkin in the ten minutes it took the moderator to introduce the panel. Afterwards, one person told me he thought it was one of my best talks. It really drives home the point that I can take no real credit for the quality of what I say (the downside is that having failed to prepare I really do bear the blame when there is poverty in the things I say). Maya Angelou’s “there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you” highlights the value of God’s gift to any of us when He allows us to tell our story. Another up side to not preparing is that (at least I hope that) I get to speak from the heart. What I say is really what I feel, if only I could get it right.

There are also many downsides. I may walk away and suddenly realize that there was something better said or, worse, something better unsaid. Or I may find myself meandering hopelessly from one idea to another (much as I am doing here, although here I really think that’s largely the point 8-) ).

The most critical downside for me is that I tend to run on and talk too much, when a little preparation could have made it more tight, more concise, perhaps even more tolerable.

For this occasion I felt I really should prepare. I expected to be speaking to about 25-30 sisters who are trying to start this new initiative that I felt was an existential necessity. I had to be organized. I had to contribute something useful. I spent ten days thinking about what I would say. Every day I would spend some time thinking about the topic, laying it out in my mind, figuring out what I’ll say first, what will follow, and how I will tie it all up. Finally, I left my office this evening to go to the venue. It took me about 10 minutes to walk. Seven minutes into it a story came to mind and I knew it had to be told. After 10 days of preparation, I set it all aside and made up my mind in the last three minutes. Subhaanallah!

I have no way of knowing whether my words were of benefit to anyone but myself. I do know what some of them said after, and I was taught long ago to let the emotion of hamd fill one’s heart at good words from others, not attributing “success” or “praise” to oneself, but also not discounting praise or refusing thanks, since that can be its own form of arrogance. However, regardless of how others may feel after hearing another person talk (or reading a piece of writing or attending a performance or any of the myriad other ways that are the storytelling with which God blesses us) there is a spiritual impact on me when things come together in a powerful way, arranging themselves to fulfill a purpose on so many dimensions and from so many points of view that I feel compelled to declare, “I had nothing to do with this! There is no way that I could have come up with this on my own.” This is not the majority of cases, but when it does happen (and I can only know that I perceive it to happen) I feel grateful to God for a gift that touches me, and I feel hopeful and pray to God that it may also touch others.

The story that I remembered pertained to one of the companions of the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, who had been among the group that had traveled to Abyssinia. Hard as I tried, I could not remember the companion’s name as I walked my last three minutes to the talk. This turned out to actually be quite the good thing. Here I was going to center my entire talk around a single story that happened to a specific companion of our prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, and I could not remember the name of the leading figure in the story - our protagonist was going to have to be anonymous, identified only, at least initially, as “the companion”. This was important because when, having gotten to this point in my narrative, I asked the sisters if they thought the companion in question was a man, almost all of them did! (Did you?) In point of fact, quite appropriate to our setting, the companion in question was a woman. (I did look it up after and the companion was Asmaa bint ‘Umais, who was married to Ja’far ibn Aby Taalib, and would later marry Abu Bakr then finally Aly, may Allah be pleased with all of them).

The story involving Asmaa (ra) has nothing to do with women per se. It does not relate to any of the topics that we normally categorize as “women’s issues”. Asmaa is at the center of the story, indeed the lead character. But she’s that as a human being, as a Muslim, and as a companion of the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him. The sahaba are held up as role models to us not in terms of their gender, but in terms of their humanity. To be sure, they modeled for us gender relations that are healthy for the individual and the community, and gender roles that are designed to build a cohesive society. But in the end, every female companion of the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, serves as an example for each of us, men and women, just as every male companion of the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, serves as an example for each of us, women and men. For that alone, the story of Asmaa is very inspirational to me.

Several contemporary scholars have noted that the migration to Abyssinia was not simply an escape from the persecution in Makka. Had that been its sole, or even primary, purpose, the return would have been expected upon Hijra. As soon as the community of believers had left Makka behind to build a new society in Madeena, the refugees in Abyssinia would have joined them. In reality, those of Abyssinia only rejoined their brethren in the seventh year after Hijra, after the treaty of Hudaybia had been signed and the aggression from the fortresses of Khayber eliminated. As long as there had been a possibility (in human calculation) that the nascent Muslim congregation could be eradicated, the refugees of Abyssinia remained there: a sort of plan ‘B’ if you will. (They weren’t the only ones in that capacity; their situation is paralleled to a somewhat lesser extent by the tribes of Saleem and Ghifar under the leadership of Abu Dharr). With Hudaybia and Khayber there was no longer a question of Islam being “wiped out”. Whether Makka and the rest of Arabia would embrace Islam was yet to be seen, but Muslims were now established not only as a community of faith, but as a civilizational, political, and diplomatic entity (to use today’s parlance). It is no coincidence that year 7 A.H. was the year that the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, corresponded with the political leaders of communities outside Arabia to invite them to Islam.

Nonetheless, just as today’s Muslims sometimes think of Abyssinia as an escape, and of that group of Muslims as refugees, it appears that at least in part this was also in the minds of the Muslims in Madeena. The Muslims had sailed back from Abyssinia under the leadership of Ja’far (ra) across the Red Sea. The believers were joyed to be rejoined with their families, and their brethren in faith. A little after their arrival Asmaa visited Hafsa bint Umar (ra). While there, Umar ibn al-Khattab (ra) entered the house, visiting his daughter. Not recognizing her guest he enquired as to her identity. Hearing that she was Asmaa he teased her gently, “Asmaa the Abyssinian? Asmaa the Sea-farer?” He then said (perhaps half-jokingly), “We led you in the Hijra, so we are more deserving of the prophet than you!” The central character in this story was not a meek woman - Umar or no, she wasn’t going to take this from anyone! She retorted angrily, “No by Allah! You were with the messenger of Allah, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him; he would feed the hungry among you; he would admonish the ignorant among you; we were in the land of exile, and a home we did not want, and that was for the sake of Allah and for the sake of His messenger. By Allah, I will eat nothing and I will drink nothing until I go to the messenger of God, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, and tell him what you said. We were hurt, and we were in fear, and I will mention this to the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, and I will ask him. By Allah I will not lie, I will not veer from what you said, and I will add nothing to it.” When she came to the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, she said Umar said such and such. He, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, asked (and I can almost see the smile and hear the gentleness in his voice as I read the words), “And what did you say to him?” ”I said such and such,” she narrates. He, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, reassured her, “He is not more deserving of me. He and his companions have one migration, and you the people of the ship have two migrations!” Word of this exchange spread through Madeena. And although the people of the ship heard the story as it made the rounds, every one of them came to Asmaa (ra) to hear her tell them in her own words.

When this companion (ra) compares her experience with that of the people of Madeena, she thinks of the person of the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, and she thinks of his tenderness to the companions - he feeds them when they need - he reminds them when they forget - he teaches, he consoles, . . .

Much can be said about the tenderness of the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him. Much has been said. And it wasn’t just a prophetic quality - it became part of the ethos of the entire community. We know of the emphasis placed on brotherhood and sisterhood, of the station of loving one another for God and in His way, of the man that came to the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him, happily telling him that he had understood and that he loves his brother for God and in His way only to be questioned, “Have you told him?” Feeling and expressing love - showing tenderness to others - caring for others and having that be seen and felt - these became core values and characteristics of the community. All the way to reminding wives and husbands to be gentle and tender with one another. “When a man looks at his wife and she at him, God turns to them with mercy,” says our prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him. “When he then reaches out and holds her hand, their sins drop from between their fingers!” What more do we need to hear. We can talk forever about the love the companions felt for the prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him. More than reverence for him (which they had abundantly) or their submission to his authority (which they did willingly and thoroughly) it was their love for him, their consciousness of his tenderness and gentleness, and the transformation in them that was nurtured by him, that defined how the companions related to our beloved prophet, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him.

More than anything else, we need that tenderness in our sisterhood and our brotherhood. We are told that when the belivers are settled in paradise they notice the absence of some of their brethren. They would miss them. They would ask Allah about them and would find that they were not in paradise. We do not know every thing about our brothers and sisters nor should we. But they plead with Allah on behalf of their brothers and sisters whose goodness they had experienced in this life. And God permits them to walk into hell to save from it those that they recognize, those that they remember, those that they loved for God and in His way in this life. Whenever I hear or read this hadeeth I plead with God to give me the gift of being loved by those that He loves. What good is it if we are so busy with our “activism”, “struggle”, “sacrifice”, “service”, and whatever else you care to put in those quotes, that we neglect to love and be loved, or that we withold tenderness from our brothers and sisters.

The not-so-secret ingredient of brotherhood and sisterhood is that we receive others with open arms and open hearts. That we listen without judgment, remind without intimidation, console without disdain, empathize without fear, forgive without rancor, forgive from deep within our hearts, and know that those that would help us come closer to God are the greatest gift to us from God.