Al-Huda
Foundation, NJ U. S. A
the Message Continues ... 2/101
Newsletter for January 2010
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Imam Husain (a)
And His Martyrdom
by Abdullah Yusuf Ali --the Renowned Translator and Commentator
of Quran.
Note: This is a transcript of an Address delivered by Abdullah
Yusuf Ali (d.1952 in Lahore) at an Ashura Majlis on Thursday the
28th May, 1931, (Muharram 10, 1350 A.H.), at the Waldorf Hotel,
London, UK.
Sorrow as a Bond of Union
I am going to talk this afternoon about a very solemn subject,
the
martyrdom of Imam Husain at Kerbela, of which we are celebrating
the
anniversary. As the Chairman has very rightly pointed out, it is
one of
those wonderful events in our religious history about which all
sects
are agreed. More than that, in this room I have the honor of
addressing some people who do not belong to our religious
persuasion,
but I venture to think that the view I put forward today may be
of
interest to them from its historical, its moral and its
spiritual
significance. Indeed, when we consider the background of that
great
tragedy, and all that has happened during the 1289 lunar years
since,
we cannot fail to be convinced that some events of sorrow and
apparent
defeat are really the very things which are calculated to bring
about,
or lead us towards, the union of humanity.
How Martyrdom healed divisions
When we invite strangers or guests and make them free of our
family
circle, that means the greatest out flowing of our hearts to
them. The
events that I am going to describe refer to some of the most
touching
incidents of our domestic history in their spiritual aspect. We
ask our
brethren of other faiths to come, and share with us some of the
thoughts which are called forth by this event. As a matter of
fact all
students of history are aware that the horrors that are
connected with
the great event of Kerbela did more than anything else to unite
together the various contending factions which had unfortunately
appeared at that early stage of Muslim history. You know the old
Persian saying applied to the Prophet:
Tu barae wasl kardan amadi;
Ni barae fasl kardan amadi.
"Thou camest to the world to unite, not to divide."
That was wonderfully exemplified by the sorrows and sufferings
and
finally the martyrdom of Imam Husain.
Commemoration of great virtues
There has been in our history a tendency sometimes to celebrate
the
event merely by wailing and tribulation, or sometimes by symbols
like
the Tazias that you see in India, - Taboots as some people call
them.
Well, symbolism or visible emblems may sometimes be useful in
certain
circumstances as tending to crystallize ideas. But I think the
Muslims
of India of the present day are quite ready to adopt a more
effective
way of celebrating the martyrdom, and that is by contemplating
the
great virtues of the martyr, trying to understand the
significance of
the events in which he took part, and translating those great
moral and
spiritual lessons into their own lives. From that point of view
I think
you will agree that it is good that we should sit together, even
people
of different faiths, - sit together and consider the great
historic
event, in which were exemplified such soul-stirring virtues as
those of
unshaken faith, undaunted courage, thought for others, willing
self-sacrifice, steadfastness in the right and unflinching war
against
the wrong. Islam has a history of beautiful domestic affections,
of
sufferings and of spiritual endeavor, second to none in the
world.
That side of Muslim history, although to me the most precious,
is, I am
sorry to say, often neglected. It is most important that we
should call
attention to it, reiterated attention, the attention of our own
people
as well as the attention of those who are interested in
historical and
religious truth. If there is anything precious in Islamic
history it is
not the wars, or the politics, or the brilliant expansion, or
the
glorious conquests, or even the intellectual spoils which our
ancestors
gathered. In these matters, our history, like all history, has
its
lights and shades. What we need especially to emphasis is the
spirit
of organization, of brotherhood, of undaunted courage in moral
and
spiritual life.
Plan of discourse
I propose first to give you an idea of the geographical setting
and the
historical background. Then I want very briefly to refer to the
actual
events that happened in the Muharram, and finally to draw your
attention to the great lessons which we can learn from them.
Geographical Picture
In placing before you a geographical picture of the tract of
country in
which the great tragedy was enacted, I consider myself fortunate
in
having my own personal memories to draw upon. They make the
picture
vivid to my mind, and they may help you also. When I visited
those
scenes in 1928, I remember going down from Baghdad through all
that
country watered by the Euphrates river. As I crossed the river
by a
bridge of boats at Al-Musaiyib on a fine April morning, my
thoughts
leapt over centuries and centuries. To the left of the main
river you
have the old classic ground of Babylonian history; you have the
railway
station of Hilla; you have the ruins of the city of Babylon,
witnessing
to one of the greatest civilisations of antiquity. It was so
mingled
with the dust that it is only in recent years that we have begun
to
understand its magnitude and magnificence. Then you have the
great
river system of the Euphrates, the Furat as it is called, a
river
unlike any other river we know. It takes its rise in many
sources from
the mountains of Eastern Armenia, and sweeping in great zig-zags
through rocky country, it finally skirts the desert as we see it
now.
Wherever it or its interlacing branches or canals can reach, it
has
converted the desert into fruitful cultivated country; in the
picturesque phrase, it has made the desert blossom as the rose.
It
skirts round the Eastern edge of the Syrian desert and then
flows into
marshy land. In a tract not far from Kerbela itself there are
lakes
which receive its waters, and act as reservoirs. Lower down it
unites
with the other river, the Tigris, and the united rivers flow in
the
name of the Shatt-al-Arab into the Persian Gulf.
Abundant water & tragedy of thirst
From the most ancient times this tract of the lower Euphrates
has been
a garden. It was a cradle of early civilization, a meeting place
between Sumer and Arab, and later between the Persians and
Arabs. It is
a rich, well watered country, with date-palms and pomegranate
groves.
Its fruitful fields can feed populous cities and its luscious
pastures
attract the nomad Arabs of the desert, with their great flocks
and
herds. It is of particularly tragic significance that on the
border of
such a well-watered land, should have been enacted the tragedy
of great
and good men dying of thirst and slaughtered because they
refused to
bend the knee to the forces of iniquity. The English poet's
lines
"Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink" are brought
home
forcibly to you in this borderland between abundant water and
desolate
sands.
Kerbela and Its Great Dome
I remember the emotion with which I approached Kerbela from the
East.
The rays of the morning sun gilt the Gumbaz-i-Faiz, the great
dome that
crowns the building containing the tomb of Imam Husain. Kerbela
actually stands on one of the great caravan routes of the
desert. Today
the river city of Kufa, once a Khilafat capital, is a mere
village, and
the city of Najaf is famous for the tomb of Hazrat Ali, but of
little
commercial importance. Kerbela, this outpost of the desert, is a
mart
and a meeting ground as well as a sacred place. It is the port
of the
desert, just as Basra, lower down, is a port for the Persian
Gulf.
Beautifully kept is the road to the mausoleum, to which all
through the
year come pilgrims from all parts of the world. Beautiful
colored enameled tiles decorate the building. Inside, in the ceiling
and upper
walls, there is a great deal of glass mosaic. The glass seems to
catch
and reflect the light. The effect is that of rich coruscations
of light
combined with the solemnity of a closed building. The tomb
itself is in
a sort of inner grill, and below the ground is a sort of cave,
where is
shown the actual place where the Martyr fell. The city of Najaf
is just
about 40 miles to the South, with the tomb of Hazrat Ali on the
high
ground. You can see the golden dome for miles around. Just four
miles
from Najaf and connected with it by a tramway, is the deserted
city of
Kufa. The mosque is large, but bare and practically unused. The
blue
dome and the Mihrab of enameled tiles bear witness to the
ancient
glory of the place.
Cities and their Cultural Meaning
The building of Kufa and Basra, the two great outposts of the
Muslim
Empire, in the 16th year of the Hijra, was a visible symbol that
Islam
was pushing its strength and building up a new civilisation, not
only
in a military sense, but in moral and social ideas and in the
sciences
and arts. The old effete cities did not content it, any more
than the
old and effete systems which it displaced. Nor was it content
with the
first steps it took. It was always examining, testing,
discarding,
re-fashioning its own handiwork. There was always a party that
wanted
to stand on old ways, to take cities like Damascus readymade,
that
loved ease and the path of least resistance. But the greater
souls
stretched out to new frontiers - of ideas as well as geography.
They
felt that old seats were like dead wood breeding worms and
rottenness
that were a danger to higher forms of life. The clash between
them was
part of the tragedy of Kerbela. Behind the building of new
cities there
is often the burgeoning of new ideas. Let us therefore examine
the
matter a little more closely. It will reveal the hidden springs
of some
very interesting history.
Vicissitudes of Mecca and Medina
The great cities of Islam at its birth were Mecca and Medina.
Mecca,
the centre of old Arabian pilgrimage, the birthplace of the
Prophet,
rejected the Prophet's teaching, and cast him off. Its idolatry
was
effete; its tribal exclusiveness was effete; its ferocity
against the
Teacher of the New Light was effete. The Prophet shook its dust
off his
feet, and went to Medina. It was the well-watered city of
Yathrib, with
a considerable Jewish population. It received with eagerness the
teaching of the Prophet; it gave asylum to him and his
Companions and
Helpers. He reconstituted it and it became the new City of
Light.
Mecca, with its old gods and its old superstitions, tried to
subdue
this new Light and destroy it. The human odds were in favour of
Mecca.
But God's purpose upheld the Light, and subdued the old Mecca.
But the
Prophet came to build as well as to destroy. He destroyed the
old
paganism, and lighted a new beacon in Mecca - the beacon of Arab
unity
and human brotherhood. When the Prophet's life ended on this
earth, his
spirit remained. It inspired his people and led them from
victory to
victory. Where moral or spiritual and material victories go hand
in
hand, the spirit of man advances all along the line. But
sometimes
there is a material victory, with a spiritual fall, and
sometimes there
is a spiritual victory with a material fall, and then we have
tragedy.
Spirit of Damascus
Islam's first extension was towards Syria, where the power was
centered
in the city of Damascus. Among living cities it is probably the
oldest
city in the world. Its bazaars are thronged with men of all
nations,
and the luxuries of all nations find ready welcome there. If you
come
to it westward from the Syrian desert, as I did, the contrast is
complete, both in the country and in the people. From the
parched
desert sands you come to fountains and vineyards, orchards and
the hum
of traffic. From the simple, sturdy, independent, frank Arab,
you come
to the soft, luxurious, sophisticated Syrian. That contrast was
forced
on the Muslims when Damascus became a Muslim city. They were in
a
different moral and spiritual atmosphere. Some succumbed to the
softening influences of ambition, luxury, wealth pride of race,
love of
ease, and so on. Islam stood always as the champion of the great
rugged
moral virtues. It wanted no compromise with evil in any shape or
form,
with luxury, with idleness, with the seductions of this world.
It was a
protest against these things. And yet the representatives of
that
protest got softened at Damascus. They aped the decadent princes
of the
world instead of striving to be leaders of spiritual thought.
Discipline was relaxed, and governors aspired to be greater than
the
Khalifas. This bore bitter fruit later.
Snare of Riches
Meanwhile Persia came within the Muslim orbit. When Medain was
captured
in the year 16 of the Hijra, and the battle of Jalula broke the
Persian
resistance, some military booty was brought to Medina - gems,
pearls,
rubies, diamonds, swords of gold and silver. A great celebration
was
held in honor of the splendid victory and the valour of the
Arab army.
In the midst of the celebration they found the Caliph of the day
actually weeping. One said to him, "What! a time of joy and thou
sheddest tears?" "Yes", he said, "I foresee that the riches will
become
a snare, a spring of worldliness and envy, and in the end a
calamity to
my people." For the Arab valued, above all, simplicity of life,
openness of character, and bravery in face of danger. Their
women
fought with them and shared their dangers. They were not caged
creatures for the pleasures of the senses. They showed their
mettle in
the early fighting round the head of the Persian Gulf. When the
Muslims
were hard pressed, their women turned the scale in their favor.
They
made their veils into flags, and marched in battle array. The
enemy
mistook them for reinforcements and abandoned the field. Thus an
impending defeat was turned into a victory.
Basra and Kufa: town-planning
In Mesopotamia the Muslims did not base their power on old and
effete
Persian cities, but built new outposts for themselves. The first
they
built was Basra at the head of the Persian Gulf, in the 17th
year of
the Hijra. And what a great city it became! Not great in war and
conquest, not great in trade and commerce, but great in learning
and
culture in its best day, - alas! also great in its spirit of
faction
and degeneracy in the days of its decline! But its situation and
climate were not at all suited to the Arab character. It was low
and
moist, damp and enervating. In the same year the Arabs built
another
city not far off from the Gulf and yet well suited to be a port
of the
desert, as Kerbela became afterwards. This was the city of Kufa,
built
in the same year as Basra, but in a more bracing climate. It was
the
first experiment in town-planning in Islam. In the centre was a
square
for the principal mosque. That square was adorned with shady
avenues.
Another square was set apart for the trafficking of the market.
The
streets were all laid out intersecting and their width was
fixed. The
main thoroughfares for such traffic as they had (we must not
imagine
the sort of traffic we see in Charing Cross) were made 60 feet
wide;
the cross streets were 30 feet wide; and even the little lanes
for
pedestrians were regulated to a width of 10.5 feet. Kufa became
a
centre of light and learning. The Khalifa Hazrat Ali lived and
died
there.
Rivalry and poison of Damascus
But its rival, the city of Damascus, fattened on luxury and
Byzantine
magnificence. Its tinsel glory sapped the foundations of loyalty
and
the soldierly virtues. Its poison spread through the Muslim
world.
Governors wanted to be kings. Pomp and selfishness, ease and
idleness
and dissipation grew as a canker; wines and spirituous liquors,
skepticism, cynicism and social vices became so rampant that the
protests of the men of God were drowned in mockery. Mecca, which
was to
have been a symbolical spiritual centre, was neglected or
dishonored.
Damascus and Syria became centers of a worldliness and arrogance
which
cut at the basic roots of Islam.
Husain the Righteous refused to bow to
worldliness and power
We have brought the story down to the 60th year of the Hijra.
Yazid
assumed the power at Damascus. He cared nothing for the most
sacred
ideals of the people. He was not even interested in the ordinary
business affairs of administration. His passion was hunting, and
he
sought power for self-gratification. The discipline and
self-abnegation, the strong faith and earnest Endeavour, the
freedom
and sense of social equality which had been the motive forces of
Islam,
were divorced from power. The throne at Damascus had become a
worldly
throne based on the most selfish ideas of personal and family
aggrandizement, instead of a spiritual office, with a sense of
God-given responsibility. The decay of morals spread among the
people.
There was one man who could stem the tide. That was Imam Husain.
He,
the grandson of the Prophet, could speak without fear, for fear
was
foreign to his nature. But his blameless and irreproachable life
was in
itself a reproach to those who had other standards. They sought
to
silence him, but he could not be silenced. They sought to bribe
him,
but he could not be bribed. They sought to waylay him and get
him into
their Power. What is more, they wanted him to recognize the
tyranny and
expressly to support it. For they knew that the conscience of
the
people might awaken at any time, and sweep them away unless the
holy
man supported their cause. The holy man was prepared to die
rather than
surrender the principles for which he stood.
Driven from city to city
Medina was the centre of Husain's teaching. They made Medina
impossible
for him. He left Medina and went to Mecca, hoping that he would
be left
alone. But he was not left alone. The Syrian forces invaded
Mecca. The
invasion was repelled, not by Husain but by other people. For
Husain,
though the bravest of the brave, had no army and no worldly
weapons.
His existence itself was an offence in the eyes of his enemies.
His
life was in danger, and the lives of all those nearest and
dearest to
him. He had friends everywhere, but they were afraid to speak
out. They
were not as brave as he was. But in distant Kufa, a party grew
up which
said: "We are disgusted with these events, and we must have Imam
Husain
to take asylum with us." So they sent and invited the Imam to
leave Mecca, come to them, live in their midst, and be their honoured
teacher
and guide. His father's memory was held in reverence in Kufa.
The
Governor of Kufa was friendly, and the people eager to welcome
him. But
alas, Kufa had neither strength, nor courage, nor constancy.
Kufa,
geographically only 40 miles from Kerbela, was the occasion of
the
tragedy of Kerbela. And now Kufa is nearly gone, and Kerbela
remains as
the lasting memorial of the martyrdom.
Invitation from Kufa
When the Kufa invitation reached the Imam, he pondered over it,
weighed
its possibilities, and consulted his friends. He sent over his
cousin
Muslim to study the situation on the spot and report to him. The
report
was favorable, and he decided to go. He had a strong
presentiment of
danger. Many of his friends in Mecca advised him against it. But
could
he abandon his mission when Kufa was calling for it? Was he the
man to
be deterred, because his enemies were laying their plots for
him, at
Damascus and at Kufa? At least, it was suggested, he might leave
his
family behind. But his family and his immediate dependants would
not
hear of it. It was a united family, pre-eminent in the purity of
its
life and in its domestic virtues and domestic affections. If
there was
danger for its head, they would share it. The Imam was not going
on a
mere ceremonial visit. There was responsible work to do, and
they must
be by his side, to support him in spite of all its perils and
consequences. Shallow critics scent political ambition in the
Imam's
act. But would a man with political ambitions march without an
army
against what might be called the enemy country, scheming to get
him
into its power, and prepared to use all their resources,
military,
political and financial, against him?
Journey through the desert
Imam Husain left Mecca for Kufa with all his family including
his
little children. Later news from Kufa itself was disconcerting.
The
friendly governor had been displaced by one prepared more
ruthlessly to
carry out Yazid's plans. If Husain was to go there at all, he
must go
there quickly, or his friends themselves would be in danger. On
the
other hand, Mecca itself was no less dangerous to him and his
family.
It was the month of September by the solar calendar, and no one
would
take a long desert journey in that heat, except under a sense of
duty. By the lunar calendar it was the month of pilgrimage at Mecca.
But he
did not stop for the pilgrimage. He pushed on, with his family
and
dependants, in all numbering about 90 or 100 people, men, women
and
children. They must have gone by forced marches through the
desert.
They covered the 900 miles of the desert in little over three
weeks.
When they came within a few miles of Kufa, at the edge of the
desert,
they met people from Kufa. It was then that they heard of the
terrible
murder of Husain's cousin Muslim, who had been sent on in
advance. A
poet that came by dissuaded the Imam from going further. "For,"
he said epigrammatically, "the heart of the city is with thee but its
sword is
with thine enemies, and the issue is with God." What was to be
done?
They were three weeks' journey from the city they had left. In
the city
to which they were going their own messenger had been foully
murdered
as well as his children. They did not know what the actual
situation
was then in Kufa. But they were determined not to desert their
friends.
Call to Surrender or Die
Presently messengers came from Kufa, and Imam Husain was asked
to surrender. Imam Husain offered to take one of three
alternatives. He wanted no political power and no revenge. He
said "I came to defend my own people. If I am too late, give me
the choice of three alternatives: either to return to Mecca; or
to face Yazid himself at Damascus; or if my very presence is
distasteful to him and you, I do not wish to cause more
divisions among the Muslims. Let me at least go to a distant
frontier, where, if fighting must be done, I will fight against
the enemies of Islam." Every one of these alternatives was
refused. What they wanted was to destroy his life, or better
still, to get him to surrender, to surrender to the very forces
against which he was protesting, to declare his adherence to
those who were defying the law of God and man, and to tolerate
all the abuses which were bringing the name of Islam into
disgrace. Of course he did not surrender. But what was he to do?
He had no army. He had reasons to suppose that many of his
friends from distant parts would rally round him, and come and
defend him with their swords and bodies. But time was necessary,
and he was not going to gain time by feigned compliance. He
turned a little round to the left, the way that would have led
him to Yazid himself, at
Damascus. He camped in the plain of Kerbela.
Water cut off; Inflexible will, Devotion
and Chivalry
For ten days messages passed backwards and forwards between
Kerbela and Kufa. Kufa wanted surrender and recognition. That
was the one thing the Imam could not consent to. Every other
alternative was refused by Kufa, under the instructions from
Damascus. Those fateful ten days were the first ten days of the
month of Muharram, of the year 61 of the Hijra. The final crisis
was on the 10th day, the Ashura day, which we are commemorating.
During the first seven days various kinds of pressure were
brought to bear on the Imam, but his will was inflexible. It was
not a question of a fight, for there were but 70 men against
4,000. The little band was surrounded and insulted, but they
held together so firmly that they could not be harmed. On the
8th day the water supply was cut off. The Euphrates and its
abundant streams were within sight, but the way was barred.
Prodigies of valour were performed in getting water. Challenges
were made for single combat according to Arab custom.
And the enemy were half-hearted, while the Imam's men fought in
contempt of death, and always accounted for more men than they
lost. On the evening of the 9th day, the little son of the Imam
was ill. He had fever and was dying of thirst. They tried to get
a drop of water. But that was refused point blank and so they
made the resolve that they would, rather than surrender, die to
the last man in the cause for which they had come. Imam Husain
offered to send away his people. He said, "They are after my
person; my family and my people can go back." But everyone
refused to go. They said they would stand by him to the last,
and they did. They were not cowards; they were soldiers born and
bred; and they fought as heroes, with devotion and with
chivalry.
The Final Agony; placid face of the man of God
On the day of Ashura, the 10th day, Imam Husain's own person was
surrounded by his enemies. He was brave to the last. He was
cruelly mutilated. His sacred head was cut off while in the act
of prayer. A mad orgy of triumph was celebrated over his body.
In this crisis we have details of what took place hour by hour.
He had 45 wounds from the enemies' swords and javelins, and 35
arrows pierced his body. His left arm was cut off, and a javelin
pierced through his breast. After all that agony, when his head
was lifted up on a spear, his face was the placid face of a man
of God. All the men of that gallant band were exterminated and
their bodies trampled under foot by the horses. The only male
survivor was a child, Husain's son Ali, surnamed Zain-ul-'Abidin
- "The Glory of the Devout." He lived in retirement, studying,
interpreting, and teaching his father's high spiritual
principles for the rest of his life.
Heroism of the Women
There were women: for example, Zainab the sister of the Imam,
Sakina his little daughter, and Shahr-i-Banu, his wife, at
Kerbela. A great deal of poetic literature has sprung up in
Muslim languages, describing the touching scenes in which they
figure. Even in their grief and their tears they are heroic.
They lament the tragedy in simple, loving, human terms. But they
are also conscious of the noble dignity of their nearness to a
life of truth reaching its goal in the precious crown of
martyrdom. One of the best-known poets of this kind is the Urdu
poet Anis, who lived in Lucknow, and died in 1874.
Lesson of the Tragedy
That briefly is the story. What is the lesson? There is of
course the physical suffering in martyrdom, and all sorrow and
suffering claim our sympathy, ---- the dearest, purest, most
outflowing sympathy that we can give. But there is a greater
suffering than physical suffering. That is when a valiant soul
seems to stand against the world; when the noblest motives are
reviled and mocked; when truth seems to suffer an eclipse. It
may even seem that the martyr has but to say a word of
compliance, do a little deed of non-resistance; and much sorrow
and suffering would be saved; and the insidious whisper comes:
"Truth after all can never die." That is perfectly true.
Abstract truth can never die. It is independent of man's
cognition. But the whole battle is for man's keeping hold of
truth and righteousness. And that can only be
done by the highest examples of man's conduct - spiritual
striving and suffering enduring firmness of faith and purpose,
patience and courage where ordinary mortals would give in or be
cowed down, the sacrifice of ordinary motives to supreme truth
in scorn of consequence. The martyr bears witness, and the
witness redeems what would otherwise be called failure. It so
happened with Husain. For all were touched by the story of his
martyrdom, and it gave the deathblow to the politics of Damascus
and all it stood for. And Muharram has still the power to unite
the different schools of thought in Islam, and make a powerful
appeal to non-Muslims also.
Explorers of Spiritual Territory
That, to my mind, is the supreme significance of martyrdom. All
human history shows that the human spirit strives in many
directions, deriving strength and sustenance from many sources.
Our bodies, our physical powers, have developed or evolved from
earlier forms, after many struggles and defeats. Our intellect
has had its martyrs, and our great explorers have often gone
forth with the martyrs' spirit. All honor to them. But the
highest honor must still lie with the great explorers of
spiritual territory, those who faced fearful odds and refused to
surrender to evil. Rather than allow a stigma to attach to
sacred things, they paid with their own lives the penalty of
resistance. The first kind of resistance offered by the Imam was
when he went from city to city, hunted about from place to
place, but making no compromise with evil. Then was offered the
choice of an effectual but dangerous attempt at clearing the
house of God, or living at ease for himself by tacit abandonment
of his striving friends. He chose the path of danger with duty
and honor, and never swerved from it giving up his life freely
and bravely. His story purifies our emotions. We can best honor
his memory by allowing it to teach us courage and constancy.
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