Mother of the Believers: A Novel of the Birth of Islam (61 page)

I
, Abdallah ibn al-Zubayr, add these closing words to my beloved aunt’s account of her life. It has been over a decade since the death of Aisha bint Abu Bakr, but I still remember her final moments as if they were yesterday. As her kinsman, I was one of the few men living who could look upon her face, which was still remarkably beautiful and largely untouched by the ravages of time. Her skin was still pale and soft like a baby’s, with only a few lines to mar her statuesque features. Even though she was nearly seventy years of age, her golden eyes were still vibrant and filled with life, as well as a hint of the sorrow that she had carried with her since the Battle of the Camel.

The final illness had been hard on her, her fingers cracking with pain, and yet she somehow managed to finish this record, driven by some need within her to tell her tale before others told it for her. When she finished the book, she gave it to me and then retired to her apartment, from which she would never emerge again. As her illness took hold of her, my mother, Asma, and I spent the final hours at her side, even as thousands of believers, both men and women, gathered outside the Masjid to pray for her recovery.

I remember how frightened she looked as the moment of death approached, and it was deeply painful for me to see a woman who had always been so strong curled up in terror like a child. I reminded her that she had nothing to fear, that she was the beloved of the Beloved of God, and that whatever mistakes she had made would be forgiven. And yet she seemed oblivious to my words, and she muttered over and over again,
“Astaghfirullah”
—“I seek the pardon of God.”

And then, as the sun began to set and the sky turned the crimson hue that had once been the color of her hair, I saw Aisha’s breath slow and I knew that the time had come. My mother, Asma, her elder sister, took Aisha’s hand in hers and squeezed reassuringly.

And then I heard the wind rise outside and the heavy curtains that hung on my aunt’s door began to rustle. And for an instant, I could have sworn that I heard a voice tinkling through the veil. A gentle voice that called out the name given to Aisha by the Messenger of God.

Humayra.

It was a name that had not been spoken aloud since Muhammad’s death, may God’s blessings and peace be upon him. Perhaps I imagined it, but if I did so, I was not alone. My aunt stirred upon hearing the voice in the wind. And it was as if the memory of joy returned to her, for Aisha’s fearful prayers stopped. She looked across the room, to the curtained section of her apartment where the Prophet, my grandfather, Abu Bakr, and the Caliph Umar were buried.

And then I saw her smile, her face as radiant as that of a girl on her wedding night, and she spoke to someone whom neither my mother nor I could see.

“My love…” Aisha said.

And she was gone.

We buried her in
Jannat al-Baqi,
the cemetery that is now the resting place of most of those who knew and lived beside the Messenger of God. With Aisha’s passing, there were few left on earth who had seen and spoken with our beloved Prophet, and all that was left were the accounts of his life, the hadith, they had so meticulously related for future generations.

Over the past ten years much has changed, and not for the better. By the grace of God, the Muslim empire continues to grow and now stretches from Kairouan in North Africa to the Indus River. Constantinople still stands, but the Muslims remain committed to taking the seat of Christendom. For now, we are content to control the islands of Rhodes and Crete, from where the believers will expand into the northern realms of the Romans,
insha-Allah,
if God wills.

Yet even as our empire eclipses those of Alexander and Caesar, there is a growing sickness at its heart. For since the death of Ali, whom, I am ashamed to say, I fought against in my youth, the spiritual core of the Muslim leadership has been replaced by men of cunning and zeal but questionable morals. The Caliph Muawiya succeeded in bringing order and prosperity after years of civil war, and his rule was for the most part benign and wise. And yet under his command, practicality and expediency became the primary motivators in dealing with affairs of state, and the ideals of our Holy Prophet degenerated into mere platitudes on the lips of corrupt governors. I grieve to say that the Muslims now fight for wealth and glory rather than in pursuit of justice and a better world for mankind.

I did not object to the rule of Muawiya in his lifetime, and I prayed for him upon his death. And yet he, who was famed as the great uniter of the Muslim nation, made one terrible mistake that would plunge our
Ummah
into its second civil war. In the final years of Muawiya’s life, the love of fatherhood overcame his wisdom. The Caliph appointed his hated son Yazid to succeed him, a youth who was better known for drinking and carousing than for statesmanship, and many among the Muslims were horrified. Muawiya had taken great pains as a leader to publicly uphold the laws of Islam and respect for the Prophet, but his worthless son now openly used his inherited throne to engage in debauchery and composed blasphemous poems denying the truth of the holy Qur’an.

And then it was that my friend and master Husayn, the last surviving grandson of the Messenger of God, rebelled against Yazid’s tyranny. The most beloved of the Prophet’s household left the safety of Medina and went to Iraq, as his father Ali had done. He hoped to garner support from the people to stand against this dark cloud that sought to block the light of God from illuminating the
Ummah
. And then the greatest of tragedies occurred, for at the small town of Karbala, Yazid’s forces fell upon the tiny band of seventy-two worshipers led by the Prophet’s grandson. They slaughtered these holy men, who had sought only to remind the Muslims that wielding power without faith would corrupt and destroy us, as it had done to every empire in history.

My master Husayn was beheaded, and most of his family was killed, including his infant son, Abdallah. Even as I write these words, the pages are stained with my tears, for I could not have imagined that men who called themselves Muslim could have laid hands upon Husayn, the boy whom the Prophet had carried on his shoulders, the man in whose blood the blessing of the Revelation still ran.

Husayn’s tragic death lit a fire that still burns today. When I saw how the reprobate Yazid had treated the Messenger’s grandson, I lifted my head in Mecca and denounced his regime. With none of the Prophet’s bloodline left to lead—Husayn’s one surviving son, Ali Zain al-Abideen, was being held hostage in Damascus and had been forced to renounce politics—I proclaimed a new caliphate that would return to the moral example set by the Messenger and his first four successors, who were now being called the Rightly Guided Caliphs.

My rebellion in Mecca has brought down the wrath of the Umayyad army, and although my men have resisted bravely for seven months, I fear that the city will soon be conquered by Yazid’s forces. Led by his monstrous general, al-Hajjaj ibn Yusuf, they have ruthlessly breached the boundaries of the holy city and have besieged even the Sanctuary with their catapults. They have shown neither mercy to the people nor reverence for the holy sites, and my heart grieves to write that this morning the warriors rained down fiery debris upon the center of the city, and the Holy Kaaba itself has been set aflame.

It is clear that the forces of Yazid will take Mecca before the sun falls and I will be killed soon thereafter. With my death, only my mother Asma remains of the generation of the
Sahaba,
the Companions who lived alongside the Messenger of God. She is nearly ninety years old, but she stubbornly clings to life, even as she stubbornly stood beside the Prophet, her father Abu Bakr, and her sister Aisha, in the cause of justice so long ago.

The battle is lost today. But as I gaze out at the burning ruins of the Sacred House, I realize that the war will continue long after I and all those who knew the Messenger have passed away. For the fight is no longer between pagans and believers in the one God. That argument has been settled forever. The new war is now between those who fight for the religion of love and justice that Muhammad taught and those who hide behind the trappings of Islam to commit murder and atrocity.

And though I grieve that there are some who will always twist the Word of God to justify their crimes, I cannot hold myself above them, for even the righteous can fall victim to that temptation. My aunt Aisha allowed the passions of her heart to consume her in her conflict with Ali, as did good men like Talha and my father Zubayr. And as did I on that tragic field at Basra. But unlike these marauders who cloak themselves in the name of Islam today, we were wise enough to recognize our mistakes and repent of the
fitna,
the chaos, we caused.

And if there is one thing that I have learned in Islam, one principle that gives me hope on this sad day as the holy city burns all around me, it is this. That God is Merciful and Compassionate and accepts the sincere repentance of His servants. That no matter how far they fall into darkness, He is always prepared to lead them back to light.

And it is that knowledge that gives me hope for my people. For no matter how many false preachers arise to spread death and corruption in the name of Islam, the true message of our beloved teacher Muhammad ibn Abdallah, the Prophet of God, will never be lost. The message of unity and love for all mankind.

And so, as my life draws to a close, I will take these writings of my beloved aunt Aisha, Mother of the Believers, and bury them deep beneath the sands of Mecca, hoping that they will be uncovered one day when their message will be most needed.

If you have found them, dear reader, then it means that day is today.

Peace be upon you. And may the blessings of God be upon our holy Prophet Muhammad, and upon his family and his Companions.

Amen.

P
ublishing a first novel is an act of faith. A great many people came together and put tremendous time and effort into this project, solely because they believed in me and in my book. I would like to take a moment to give special thanks to a few of those who have played a pivotal role in this adventure.

First and foremost, to Rebecca Oliver, the most remarkable literary agent any author could hope for. There are only a handful of people who have single-handedly changed my life. You are at the top of that list.

To Judith Curr and the extraordinary staff at Atria Books for championing my work. In the current political climate, many publishers would be nervous about promoting a book of fiction about the birth of Islam. And yet Judith has shown once again that she is a visionary who has the courage of her convictions.

To Peter Borland, my editor and friend, who has patiently and enthusiastically guided this novel to publication. To Rosemary Ahern, whose detailed advice helped me craft the book into final form. And to Suzanne O’Neill, who first fell in love with the idea of a novel on Aisha and set the wheels into motion.

To my television agent, Scott Seidel, for passing along my initial manuscript to his colleagues in New York. When I told Scott I wanted to publish my novel, he said he would do everything he could to make it happen. He proved to be a man of his word, a rare quality in Hollywood.

To my managers, Jennifer Levine and Jason Newman, who supported me during the long and arduous process of crafting this work while balancing a hectic film and television career. And to all my agents at Endeavor, who have opened so many doors for me as a writer: Tom Strickler, Ari Greenburg, Bryan Besser, Tom Wellington, Hugh Fitzpatrick, and many others. Thank you for taking me seriously every time I come to you with a crazy new idea.

To my elder sister, Nausheen Pasha-Zaidi, the first published author in my family. Her beautiful novel,
The Colour of Mehndi,
inspired me to stop procrastinating and start writing. To my younger sister and best friend, Shaheen, who patiently read through every single page of this book as it evolved and never feared to give constructive criticism.

And to my parents. For encouraging me to dream.

Mother of the Believers

Kamran Pasha

Readers Club Guide

I
NTRODUCTION

In the desert of seventh century Arabia, a new prophet named Muhammad has arisen. After he beholds a beautiful woman in a vision and resolves to marry her, the girl’s father quickly arranges the wedding. Aisha becomes the youngest of Muhammad’s twelve wives, and her fierce intelligence establishes her as his favorite. But when Aisha is accused of adultery by her rivals, she loses the Prophet’s favor—and must fight to prove her innocence.

Pardoned by her husband after a divine revelation clears her name, Aisha earns the reluctant respect of fellow Muslims when their settlement in Medina is attacked and she becomes a pivotal player on the battlefield. Muhammad’s religious movement sweeps through Arabia and unifies the warring tribes, transforming him from prophet to statesman. But soon after the height of her husband’s triumph—the conquest of the holy city of Mecca—Muhammad falls ill and dies in Aisha’s arms.

A widow at age nineteen, Aisha fights to create a role for herself in the new Muslim empire—becoming an advisor to the Caliph of Islam, a legislator advocating for the rights of women and minorities, a teacher, and ultimately a warrior and military commander. She soon becomes one of the most powerful women in the Middle East, but her passionate nature leads to tragedy when her opposition to the Caliph plunges the Islamic world into civil war. Her legacy remains one of the most compelling stories of Islam.

Q
UESTIONS AND
T
OPICS FOR
D
ISCUSSION

1. “God had chosen me to marry His Messenger. It sounded laughable, but somehow it felt right. As if some part of my soul had always known that was my purpose.” To what extent does Aisha feel conflicted about her sudden transformation from child to Mother of the Believers? In what ways does her betrothal and marriage to the Prophet challenge some of his most faithful believers? What accounts for the unique nature of Aisha and Muhammad’s emotional connection with each other?
   
2. How do the climactic events of the Battle of Badr—particularly the deaths of many prominent Quraysh leaders—serve to galvanize the Muslims in their efforts to rally future believers? What does the defeat of the Meccan army by the vastly outnumbered followers of the Messenger represent to leaders of the Assembly? How does the Meccan defeat further empower Hind, the lascivious wife of Abu Sufyan, to incite further violence against the Muslims?
   
3. Aisha finds herself in trouble with the Messenger and her faith when she ventures places she shouldn’t go, such as when she comes to the assistance of Salim ibn Qusay, a thief who attempts to rape her; when a young Jewish goldsmith, Yacub, is punished with death for insulting her honor; or when she is suspected of infidelity for having gotten lost in the desert. To what extent can these mishaps can be attributed to Aisha’s youth and inexperience? What role does her personality play in leading her into these morally compromising situations?
   
4. “The whole ceremony seemed appropriately ethereal for this enigmatic couple and I was glad when the Prophet rose and kissed them, signaling that we had returned to the world I knew and understood.” Why does the marriage of Ali to Fatima seem symbolic to Aisha of some more momentous alliance than that of a customary wedding ceremony? How would you describe the roles Ali and Fatima play in the life of Muhammad and in the history of Islam? What accounts for Aisha’s troubled relationship with Ali?
   
5. What role does a young Jewish woman named Safiya, the daughter of the prominent Jewish leader Huyayy ibn Akhtab, play in alerting Aisha to an assassination plot against Muhammad by the Bani Nadir? How does the treachery of the Bani Nadir lead to an affiliation between the Arab and Jewish forces against the Muslims? What does Muhammad’s later marriage to Safiya suggest about his ability to accommodate marriage to his political advantage?
   
6. “You should not leave your houses unless necessary. It is for your good and for the good of the
   Ummah,
   he said…We were now expected to stay inside our homes like prisoners.” What does Muhammad’s commandment to his wives to veil themselves to strangers and to stay confined to their homes reflect about his culture and society? How would you describe the modern-day effect of this commandment on faithful Muslim men and women?
   
7. Why does Muhammad’s death, after several days of illness, lead to unrest and uncertainty in his immediate circle? How does his lack of an immediate male heir complicate his succession? What does his death, as witnessed by Aisha, reveal about his spiritual nature?
   
8. “And so, for the first time in centuries, the Children of Israel returned to the Holy Land from which they had been expelled, ironically at the generosity of a religion they had rejected.” How do the actions and policies of Muslims, even in the midst of conquering territories and transforming regions, reflect the tenets of their faith? To what extent does the spread of Islam across the Middle East unite former enemies and transform the city of Medina?
   
9. How does Aisha’s political alignment with her brother, Muhammad, challenge the rule of the Caliph Uthman and lead to his death? To what extent does Aisha’s subsequent rejection of Ali as Muslim leader stem from her longstanding grudge against him for suggesting to the Prophet that she was an expendable wife? How does the civil war that arises between Muslims lead directly to Aisha’s renunciation of involvement in politics, and how does it connect to a foreboding prediction made by her husband?
   
10. At the opening of
    Mother of the Believers,
    Aisha poses the rhetorical question, “What is faith?” But by the end of her memoir of her life, she has answered her own question in her letter to her nephew. How does her answer relate to her experiences as the beloved wife of Muhammad? Based on what you know about her faith, how would you characterize its role in her life?
    

A C
ONVERSATION WITH
K
AMRAN
P
ASHA

Q:
Mother of the Believers
is your first novel. What first drew you to Aisha and her remarkable story?

A: I have always been fascinated by strong women, and growing up as a Muslim in the United States, I found myself intrigued by how Aisha breaks every negative stereotype that Americans have about Islam and women. A scholar, a poet, a statesman, and a warrior, Aisha lived a life that rivals those of the greatest men in history. She was a passionate and fiercely intelligent woman who changed the course of human civilization, yet has received almost no attention in Western literature. It has been a lifelong dream to write a novel about Aisha, and I’m frankly still a little stunned that I have been given the opportunity to actually make that dream come true. I always wanted to highlight those aspects of her character that make her stand out among the accounts of early Muslims—her powerful will, her sharp mind, and the intensity and depth of her emotions.
     In researching Aisha’s life, it became clear that she possessed rare gifts that made her destined for greatness—traits that Prophet Muhammad, a master judge of human character, would have noticed immediately. His decision to marry young Aisha and bring her into the center of the community was, I believe, motivated in part by his recognition of her genius and his desire to place Aisha in a position where she could fulfill a destiny that would have been otherwise stifled in the primitive desert world in which she was born. And the fact that the Prophet loved her first and foremost among all his wives in Medina reveals a great deal about how forward thinking he was. In many ways, Prophet Muhammad can be considered a proto-feminist, and the fact that he loved Aisha’s fiery nature and independent spirit reveals his own progressive attitudes toward women. In Aisha, we see a mirror of the Prophet’s own revolutionary nature, as well as a glimpse of the reverence for the sacred feminine in Islam that many contemporary Muslim men have perhaps forgotten.

Q: What were some of the challenges you experienced as an author in getting into the perspective of a female protagonist?

A: It is of course impossible for a man to truly know how a woman sees and experiences life, and it would be disingenuous for me to claim that I have accurately done so. But I have the benefit of being raised in a family of powerful Muslim women who continue Aisha’s legacy of independence and intellectual curiosity. A lifetime of conversations with my mother, sisters, and other Muslim women gives me at least an observer’s insight into the challenges faced by women in society, both in the Islamic world and the West. To the extent that I succeeded in creating an authentic female voice for Aisha, the credit belongs to all the women in my life who guided me over the years. To the extent that I failed, I hope the reader will excuse it as the natural shortcomings of the masculine perspective in that regard.

Q: Why did you decide to frame Aisha’s narrative in terms of a memoir and letter to her nephew?

A: I felt that Aisha’s voice is so unique that the novel had to be presented from her point of view. She was such a complex person whose attitudes and opinions evolved so much over the course of her lifetime that the only way I felt I could do justice to her tale was to set it as a memoir. Aisha on her deathbed looking back at a life of great triumph and tragedy allowed me to explore her passionate youthful nature, as well as the more sober perspective of a mature woman who has had a chance to consider her legacy. Many readers may be surprised at how sad and wistful the memoir seems to be at times, but I am only following Aisha’s own accounts, where she admitted in later years to regretting many of her youthful follies. But it is that regret, that poignant longing to correct the mistakes of the past, that makes her especially human for me. Aisha, by her own admission, was a brilliant but flawed human being, and it is that stark humanity that brings her closer to us. Aisha was no plastic saint. And that is exactly why we can learn from her and honor the remarkable things she accomplished. If Aisha, with all her passions, jealousies, and rage, can become the most beloved and revered of the Prophet’s wives, there is hope for all of us in finding redemption.

Q: You are well acquainted with fictional portrayals of Muslims from your work as a writer and coproducer of the television series
Sleeper Cell
.
How would you compare the experience of writing historical fiction about the earliest Muslims with the process of creating portrayals of Muslims in the modern world?

A: I think one of the biggest differences is that
Sleeper Cell
dealt with the modern phenomenon of Muslim terrorists, villains who are attempting to hijack the beautiful religion of Islam. This novel, on the other hand, focuses on the revered heroes of my faith. What became evident as I researched this tale is that Prophet Muhammad, Aisha, and the rest of the early Muslims would have been horrified to learn that Islam would one day be painted as a religion of terror. Islam began as a pacifist movement that only took arms after being pushed to near extinction by the idolaters of Mecca. Even after military engagement became part of Muslim experience, strict rules of war were adopted. Women and children were to be spared in combat. Priests and rabbis of the People of the Book were protected from attack. Environmental warfare, including burning trees and poisoning water supplies, was forbidden, even though such tactics were considered acceptable by neighboring cultures (and remain common today). Muslims throughout the past 1,400 years took great pride in following strict rules of war, even as many in the West justified indiscriminate slaughter from the Crusades up until modern day. It is an incredible tragedy that there are people in the Muslim word today who feel that the only way they can fight political oppression is to engage in terror against civilians, which goes against the vast corpus of Muslim tradition and history. In writing this book, I have sought to remind both Muslims and non-Muslims that Islam stands for justice and human equality, as evidenced by the lives of the Prophet and the early community. The word “Islam” derives from the Arabic root meaning “peace.” The idea of “Islamic terrorism” is as much of a non sequitur as the phrase “loving murder.” I hope that this novel will inspire people to reexamine what Islam has stood for throughout history, and what it offers humanity today.

Q: How do you respond to critics who contend that fictional accounts of religious figures are potentially blasphemous?

A: I think such accusations are misguided and fail to understand the magnificent role literature and storytelling have played in Islamic civilization throughout history. Muslims have been telling stories about Prophet Muhammad, his wives, and companions around campfires and in books for centuries. The Modern Library has recently published
The Adventures of Amir Hamza,
a beautiful translation of a medieval Islamic epic about the Prophet’s uncle Hamza. The book contains dozens of incredible—and fictional—adventures that Muslim storytellers attributed to Hamza over the centuries. Like
The Arabian Nights,
the stories about Hamza were hugely popular throughout the Islamic world as tales of wonder and faith, both serving to entertain and educate the masses. One of my favorite books of all time is
Yusuf and Zulaikha,
an epic tale written in the fifteenth century by the Persian poet Jami (translated in English by David Pendlebury). It is a fictionalized account of the story of the prophet Joseph in the Qur’an and his star-crossed romance with an Egyptian princess. The tale is treasured by Muslims as both a beautiful love story and a deeply mystical allegory of worshippers seeking the Divine. The Muslim community has always understood that stories can teach and inspire us and that the line between historical fact and creative imagination is less important than the wisdom one gains from the tale. I have written my novel as part of that proud literary tradition, and I hope that many more historical fiction accounts about the great figures of Islam will be published to enlighten new generations about the richness of Muslim civilization.