Then ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib was conducted by the envoy to the Abyssinian camp, as Abraha had ordered. There he inquired after Dhú Nafar, who was his friend, and found him a ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib's interview with Abraha. prisoner. "O Dhú Nafar," said he, "can you do aught in that which has befallen us?" Dhú Nafar answered, "What can a man do who is a captive in the hands of a king, expecting day and night to be put to death? I can do nothing at all in the matter, but Unays, the elephant-driver, is my friend; I will send to him and press your claims on his consideration and ask him to procure you an audience with the king. Tell Unays what you wish: he will plead with the king in your favour if he can." So Dhú Nafar sent for Unays and said to him, "O Unays, ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib is lord of Quraysh and master of the caravans of Mecca. He feeds the people in the plain and the wild creatures on the mountain-tops. The king has seized two hundred of his camels. Now get him admitted to the king's presence and help him to the best of your power." Unays consented, and soon ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib stood before the king. When Abraha saw him he held him in too high respect to let him sit in an inferior place, but was unwilling that the Abyssinians should see the Arab chief, who was a large man and a comely, seated on a level with himself; he therefore descended from his throne and sat on his carpet and bade ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib sit beside him. Then he said to his dragoman, "Ask him what he wants of me." ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib replied, "I want the king to restore to me two hundred camels of mine which he has taken away." Abraha said to the dragoman, "Tell him: You pleased me when I first saw you, but now that you have spoken to me I hold you cheap. What! do you speak to me of two hundred camels which I have taken, and omit to speak of a temple venerated by you and your fathers which I have come to destroy?" Then said ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib: "The camels are mine, but the Temple belongs to another, who will defend it," and on the king exclaiming, "He cannot defend it from me," he said, "That is your affair; only give me back my camels."
As it is related in a more credible version, the tribes settled round Mecca sent ambassadors, of whom ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib was one, offering to surrender a third part of their possessions to Abraha on condition that he should spare the Temple, but he refused. Having recovered his camels, ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib returned to the Quraysh, told them what had happened, and bade them leave the city and take shelter in the mountains. Then he went to the Ka‘ba, accompanied by several of the Quraysh, to pray for help against Abraha and his army. Grasping the ring of the door, he cried:—
" O God, defend Thy neighbouring folk even as a man his gear130 defendeth! Let not their Cross and guileful plans defeat the plans Thyself intendeth! But if Thou make it so, 'tis welclass="underline" according to Thy will it endeth."131
Next morning, when Abraha prepared to enter Mecca, his elephant knelt down and would not budge, though they beat its head with an axe and thrust sharp stakes into its flanks; but when they turned it in the direction of Yemen, it rose up and trotted with alacrity. Then God sent from the sea a flock of birds like swallows every one of which carried three stones as large as a Rout of the Abyssinians. chick-pea or a lentil, one in its bill and one in each claw, and all who were struck by those stones perished.132 The rest fled in disorder, dropping down as they ran or wherever they halted to quench their thirst. Abraha himself was smitten with a plague so that his limbs rotted off piecemeal.133
These details are founded on the 105th chapter of the Koran, entitled 'The Súra of the Elephant,' which may be freely rendered as follows:—
"Hast not thou seen the people of the Elephant, how dealt with them the Lord? Did not He make their plot to end in ruin abhorred?— When He sent against them birds, horde on horde, And stones of baked clay upon them poured, And made them as leaves of corn devoured."
The part played by ‘Abdu ’l-Muṭṭalib in the story is, of course, a pious fiction designed to glorify the Holy City and to claim for the Prophet's family fifty years before Islam a predominance which they did not obtain until long afterwards; but equally of course the legend reflects Muḥammadan belief, and may be studied with advantage as a characteristic specimen of its class.
"When God repulsed the Abyssinians from Mecca and smote them with His vengeance, the Arabs held the Quraysh in high respect and said, 'They are God's people: God hath fought for them and hath defended them against their enemy;' and made poems on this matter."134 The following verses, according to Ibn Isḥáq, are by Abu ’l-Ṣalt b. Abí Rabí‘a of Thaqíf; others more reasonably ascribe them to his son Umayya, a well-known poet and monotheist (Ḥaníf) contemporary with Muḥammad:—
"Lo, the signs of our Lord are everlasting, None disputes them except the unbeliever. He created Day and Night: unto all men Is their Reckoning ordained, clear and certain. Gracious Lord! He illumines the daytime Verses by Umayya b. Abi ’l-Ṣalt. With a sun widely scattering radiance. He the Elephant stayed at Mughammas So that sore it limped as though it were hamstrung, Cleaving close to its halter, and down dropped, As one falls from the crag of a mountain. Gathered round it were princes of Kinda, Noble heroes, fierce hawks in the mellay. There they left it: they all fled together, Every man with his shank-bone broken. Vain before God is every religion, When the dead rise, except the Ḥanífite.135"
The patriotic feelings aroused in the Arabs of the Ḥijáz by the Abyssinian invasion—feelings which must have been shared to some extent by the Bedouins generally—received a fresh stimulus through events which occurred about forty years after this time on the other side of the peninsula. It will be remembered that the Lakhmite dynasty at Ḥíra came to an end with Nu‘mán III, who was cruelly executed by Khusraw Parwéz (602 or 607 a.d.).136 Before his death he had deposited his arms and other property with Háni’, a chieftain of the Banú Bakr. These were claimed by Khusraw, and as Háni’ refused to give them up, a Persian army was sent to Dhú Qár, a place near Kúfa abounding in water and consequently a favourite resort of the Bakrites during the dry season. A desperate conflict ensued, in which the Persians Battle of Dhú Qár ( circa610 a.d.). were completely routed.137 Although the forces engaged were comparatively small,138 this victory was justly regarded by the Arabs as marking the commencement of a new order of things; e.g., it is related that Muḥammad said when the tidings reached him: "This is the first day on which the Arabs have obtained satisfaction from the Persians." The desert tribes, hitherto overshadowed by the Sásánian Empire and held in check by the powerful dynasty of Ḥíra, were now confident and aggressive. They began to hate and despise the Colossus which they no longer feared, and which, before many years had elapsed, they trampled in the dust.
CHAPTER III
PRE-ISLAMIC POETRY, MANNERS, AND RELIGION
"When there appeared a poet in a family of the Arabs, the other tribes round about would gather together to that family and wish them joy of their good luck. Feasts would be got ready, the women of the tribe would join together in bands, playing upon lutes, as they were wont to do at bridals, and the men and boys would congratulate one another; for a poet was a defence to the honour of them all, a weapon to ward off insult from their good name, and a means of perpetuating their glorious deeds and of establishing their fame for ever. And they used not to wish one another joy but for three things—the birth of a boy, the coming to light of a poet, and the foaling of a noble mare."139
As far as extant literature is concerned—and at this time there was only a spoken literature, which was preserved by oral tradition, and first committed to writing long afterwards—the Jáhiliyyaor Pre-islamic Age covers scarcely more than a century, from about 500 a.d., when the oldest poems of which we have any record were composed, to the year of Muḥammad's Flight to Medína (622 a.d.), which is the starting-point of a new era in Arabian history. The influence of these hundred and twenty years was great and lasting. They saw the rise and incipient decline of a poetry which most Arabic-speaking Moslems have always regarded as a model of unapproachable excellence; a poetry rooted in the life of the people, that insensibly moulded their minds and fixed their character and made them morally and spiritually a nation long before Muḥammad welded the various conflicting groups into a single organism, animated, for some time at least, by a common purpose. In those days poetry was no luxury for the cultured few, but the sole medium of literary expression. Every tribe had its poets, who freely uttered what they felt and thought. Their unwritten words "flew across the desert faster than arrows," and came home to the hearts and bosoms of all who heard them. Thus in the midst of outward strife and disintegration a unifying principle was at work. Poetry gave life and currency to an ideal of Arabian virtue ( muruwwa), which, though based on tribal community of blood and insisting that only ties of blood were sacred, nevertheless became an invisible bond between diverse clans, and formed, whether consciously or not, the basis of a national community of sentiment.