WHY FATIMA?
 
 

Ali and Fatima were now in their home outside of the city.

They lived away from the daily bustle of the city, near the

village of Quba (eight kilometers to the south of

Madinah) next to the Quba Mosque. During the migration, the

Prophet rested for one week at Quba where Ali, following three

days behind, eventually joined him. After that, the Prophet

went for the first time to Madinah and established Islam freely

in that city. He laid the foundation for his new mosque, and his-

tory began.

   Fatima and Ali later moved back to Madinah where they

lived next door to the house of the Prophet which functioned as

a mosque. The similarities between the beginnings of the Quba

mosque and the Madinah mosque are most exciting to whomev-

er is acquainted with the story of the Prophet's mosque and the

house of the Prophet. If people do not understand it logically,

they will emotionally sense it.
 
 

THE SPIRIT OF MUHAMMAD

   While Fatima and Ali were far from the Prophet in Quba, it

was most difficult for the Prophet. These two-the spirit of the

Prophet's house-lived far from him, outside the city, in a home

fraught with difficulties and poverty but also filled with love

and faith.

   Ali, from the beginning of his childhood, had lived with

poverty, loneliness, difficulties, hatred, religious struggle and

asceticism. He had borne his hard and bitter life in Makkah

patiently. His youth and early childhood had been nothing other

than immersion in belief and religious struggle. He was a very

serious spirit, who had no thought about a house, life, pleasure,

wealth or comfort. He had a thirst which was only satisfied by

bitterness. He was formed built from worship, asceticism,

thought and work.

    Fatima was also a product of sorrow, piety and poverty. She

bore the tortures that her father, her mother, her sisters and

Ali had borne for years in Makkah. They left a deep impression

upon her body and upon her spirit. Her body was weak, but her

feelings were deep. She had a most sensitive heart. Now in the

house of Ali, she forced herself once again to live with difficul-

ties, work, poverty and asceticism. Ali did not bring trivial

entertainment to their house. Fatima also brought no routine

desires and petty excitements to their new home. She did not

pull Ali from heaven to earth nor drain his internal strength,

depth and seriousness.

    It was only the Prophet alone who would bring about the

happiness of his beloveds through good feelings and words.

Each kindness contained an ocean of meaning, sweetness and

power for Ali and Fatima.

    The Prophet was himself aware of this. He knew the needs

of his beloveds who lived because they loved. He knew,

"Whosoever loves Him has no life and for whosoever loves Him,

this is life itself." He brought his Fatima and his Ali close to

him. He made their house next door to his. It was made just like

his of branches and palm leaves. Its door opened to the

mosquc wall to wall. The windows of the house of Fatima

directly faced the window of the Prophet's house.

    These two windows which faced each other spoke of two

hearts open to each other-the heart of a father and the heart

of a daughter. Each morning their windows opened onto each

other. Each morning there were greetings and laughter. Each

evening, promises to meet the next day. It is this window about

which it is said, "The Prophet, everyday, without exception,

unless he was on a journey, sought out Fatima and greeted her."

    Why from among all of the Companions, from among all of

his close family, from among all of his daughters, should only

Fatima live next to the mosque and share a wall with his home?

The house of the Prophet was the house of Fatima. The family

in which Ali was the father, Fatima the mother, Hasan and

Husayn, the sons, and finally, Zaynab and Umm Kulthum the

daughters, was the family of the Prophet. The family of the

Prophet was this unique family, this unique home so empha-

sized in the Koran and the Traditions. The family of the

Prophet, cleansed of all impurities, was chaste and protected for

all generations to come.

    Whosoever knows this family does not need reasoning and

lengthy explanations. Even if there were no words expressed,

intelligence itself would admit its uniqueness.

    Now in Madinah, sharing a wall with the house of Ayisha,

this house built within the mosque, Fatima's family grew.

Hasan, Husayn, Zaynab, and Umm Kulthum were born. A new

history had begun. With the dawn of these stars, new horizons

had been found. The Prophet found the meaning of life Islam

found the proof of belief. Humanity found the witness of all

things!
 
 

THE CONTINUATION OF THE PROPHET

    In the third year of the migration, one year and a few

months after Fatima and Ali married, Hasan was born.

Madinah celebrated the end of its waiting for its messenger.

The Prophet, who for the first time during sixteen long and

drawn out years (filled with torture, hatred, ugliness, treachery,

with news of the torture of his friends and the death of his

beloveds) now tasted the new and sweet message of the birth of

Hasan. This news soothed his tired spirit .

    Full of happiness, he entered Fatima's house. He held the

first fruit of the union of Ali and Fatima in his arms. He recit-

ed the call to prescribed prayer in the baby's ear and finally dis-

tributed silver to the poor people of Makkah (silver in an

amount equal to the weight of the hair on the baby's head).

    A year passed. Husayn was born. The Prophet now had two

'sons'. Fate decreed that his two sons, Qasim and Abd Allah

should not live. Thus the sons of the Prophet came through

Fatima. As the Prophet said, "The generation of each Prophet

was from his own body, but mine is from Fatima."

    It is the Prophet's progeny who continued. These two spirits

joined to produce the successive generations. In the mission of

the Prophet, Ali was present and in the succession of Ali, the

Prophet was present. In the pure faces of these two children

(Hasan and Husayn), the Prophet saw three faces in these two:

Ali, Fatima and his own.

    Fate decreed that Hasan and Husayn should take the place

of his sons. These two were the fruits of the union of Ali and

Fatima-Fatima, the mother of her father. All the Companions

knew 'his smallest and most beloved daughter'. And Ali was his

guardian, his brother and, through Fatima, the father of his

beloved grandsons.

    The roots which join Ali and the Prophet to each other can-

not be counted. Both stemmed from Abd al-Muttalib. The moth-

er of Ali looked after the Prophet from the time he was eight

years old, and Ali's father, Abu Talib, was like the Prophet's

father for seventeen years. The Prophet grew up in Ali's house

from the age of eight to twenty-five, and Ali grew up in the

Prophet's house from early childhood until the age of twenty-

five. KhadiJa was like Ali's mother, and the Prophet was like his

father!

    What more similar and close union could there have been!

Their relationships were comparable in every way. These two

human beings were symmetrical, were twins and reflections of

each other.

    Ali was the second person who accepted Islam from the

Prophet. His wife Khadija had been the first. Ali extended his

hand to the Prophet when the Prophet was preaching in secret

and alone. They joined together and, from then on, stood togeth-

er through all dangers and difficulties until the Prophet's death.

    Before the mission, Ali was a small boy of six or seven years

old when the Prophet took him alone to Mt. Hira. Ali partici-

pated in the depth of asceticism and wonderful prayers. Ali

accompanied the Prophet day and night.

    The Prophet would stand in the moonlit silence in the cave

on Mt. Hira or sit down or slowly pace back and forth.

Sometimes underneath the rain of inspiration, his head fell for-

ward. Sometimes he raised his head to the heavens and cried

until he found his way. He was waiting. He saw something still

unknown to him. During all of this, a small child, like his shad-

ow, was with him-sometimes on his shoulder and sometimes

beside him.

    Once when Ali was a child of nine or ten years old he

entered the room of Khadija and the Prophet! He saw them

kneel on the ground, sit for awhile and then rise and say some-

thing under their lips. Both did this together. Neither one

noticed him. He remained in wonder. Finally he asked, "What

are you doing?"

    The Prophet answered, "We are performing our prescribed

prayers. I have been sent as the messenger to spread the word

of submission (islam) and to call people to the worship of the

One God and my own mission. Ali, I call you as well to it."

   Ali was still a child of no more than a few years, living in the

house of the Prophet, drowned in his kindness and his great-

ness. Ali did not say yes without thinking. Faith had to filter

through his wisdom and then find its way to his heart. At the

same time, his tongue had the tone of his years. He said, "Allow

me to talk to my father, Abu Talib, and then make my decision."

   Immediately afterwards, he ran up the stairs to his room to

sleep. But this invitation was not an ordinary invitation which

Ali, even though only eight or ten years old, could take quietly.

He stayed awake thinking until dawn.

   No one knew what effect the words that night had on the

thoughts of this boy, but in the morning, they heard his foot-

steps, light, but decisive and quiet. They stopped behind the

door of the Prophet. Then the sweet beautiful voice of Ali was

heard: "Last night, I thought to myself, 'God, in creating me,

had not consulted Abu Talib, first. So why should I now ask his

opinion about worshipping Him?' Tell me about Islam."

   The Prophet spoke to him saying, "I accept." From then on

Ali found himself upon this way and in the midst of this union.

He directed every second of his life towards this end. He became

a wonderful symbol of one who worshiped God, was loyal to the

Prophet, a friend to humanity and devoted to the spirit. He

joined the heart and mind of the Prophet in a thousand ways,

both hidden and manifest. Everyone knew this. The Prophet

knew it more than others. He sensed the thousands of rays of

light falling from his spirit upon Ali. One day, much later when

his spirit was filled with the light which shone upon him from

the Prophet, he became excited. His heart deeply desired to

hear the Prophet's feelings towards him. He asked, "Among

these two, which is the most beloved of the Prophet, his daugh-

ter, Fatima Zahra, or her husband, Ali?"

   The Prophet was at the other end of a difficult question. At

the same time that he was required to answer 'an impossible

question', while smiling kindly and softly, he had to find an

answer right for all concerned. With a tone full of the pleasure

of victory, he answered, "Fatima is more beloved to me than

you, and you are dearer to me than she."

   The Prophet never tried to show himself different from oth-

ers. Rather, it was the opposite. He would say, aI am a human

being like you. The only difference is the revelation which I

receive." He always declared that he did not know the hidden

world and other than that which was told him, he knew noth-

ing. He always tried not to stand out or seem peculiar and, as

far as possible, not to call attention to himself.

   One day an old woman approached him to ask him some-

thing. All the things that she had heard about him and the

greatness she knew he had, so affected her that when she found

herself in his presence, she trembled and stuttered. The

Prophet, who sensed that she had been struck by his presence,

moved simply and quietly forward. He placed his hand kindly

upon her shoulder and in a gentle and intimate tone, said,

"Mother. What is it? I am the son of that Quraysh woman who

milked sheep."

   The depth of his sensitivity, sympathy and the softness of

his heart was most amazing. Sometimes, inside the house, he

would so humble himself that the hands of little Ayisha easily

reached him. He kissed the hands of Fatima. His analogies

which came from kindness were something special: "Ammar is

as the space between my two eyes," "Ali is from me, and I am,

from Ali," "Fatima is a part of my body."

   And now Hasan and Husayn were born. What things did the

Prophet not do with these two beloved children! He loved them,

the mirror and fruit of his 'most beloved and dearest ones' and

'the dearest of his beloveds'. He had always showed special

kindness to Fatima and given her spiritual strength the extent

of which cannot even be found among men today. And now, from

his only remaining daughter came two sons whom he must have

loved very dearly. He was so fond of them that everyone

expressed amazement.

   One day, he entered Fatima's house as he did everyday from

the time the children were born. He saw that both Ali and

Fatima were asleep, and Hasan was hungry and crying. He

found nothing to eat. The Prophet could not bring himself to

wake his dearest and his most beloved. Quietly, with bare feet,

he found their sheep, milked it and gave the milk to the child

until he became quiet.

   One day, when he was hurriedly passing Fatima's house, the

cries of Husayn reached his ears. He returned and entered the

house. With his whole body shaking, he shouted at Fatima,

"Don't you understand that his crying causes me pain!"

Usama ibn Zayd (whom we have mentioned before) said, "I

had business with the Prophet. I knocked at his door. He came

out. As I was talking to him, I realized he had something hid-

den under his clothes. He was holding onto it with difficulty, but

I did not know what it was. When I had finished saying what I

had come to say, I asked, 'What is that which you are holding,

Prophet of God?'

  "The Prophet, while his face filled with delight and plea-

sure, pulled apart his cloak and I saw Hasan and Husayn. At

the same time that he wanted to explain his unusual behavior

to me, he could not take his eyes off of them. In a tone full of joy

and happiness, as if speaking to himself, he said, 'These are my

two sons, the sons of my daughter."'

   Then as his voice, full of wonder, in a melody which cannot

be expressed, continued, "Oh, God, I love these two. I love these

two and love those who love them."

  In the words of a contemporary Arab, aIf they were to have

asked the Prophet which of his daughters should continue his

line and which son-in-law, he would have chosen the same two

which God chose."

   The children of Fatima and Ali felt that the Prophet was

their grandfather, father, friend, relative of the family,

guardian, companion and playmate. They were closer to him,

more intimate and free than with their own mother and father.

One day, during one of the congregational prayers, the Prophet

went down in prostration. The prostration continued for such a

long time that the people who were praying behind him began

to wonder what had happened. [In the congregational prayer,

the congregation performs the prayer behind an Imam or leader

whose movements they follow in unison.] The Prophet had

always been swift in his prescribed prayer. He always took the

weakest people into consideration.

   They thought something had happened or, else, that a reve-

lation had reached him. After the ritual prayer, they asked him.

He said, "Husayn had climbed on my back when I had gone

down in prostration. As he had the habit of doing this in my

home, I could not bring myself to hurry him, so I waited until

he himself crawled down. This is why the prostration took so

long."

  The Prophet insisted that all people, especially the

Companions, know and see with their own eyes how he loved

these two children, Hasan and Husayn and their mother and

their father with more love than anyone's heart can hold.

    If not, why did he treat Fatima with so much respect? Why

did he kiss her hand and her face in the mosque so much and

with such insistence? When he spoke from the pulpit, he con-

stantly tried to show everyone his feelings for this family. After

his prayers, he added the words, "God love them as well," refer-

ring to Hasan, Husayn, Fatima and Ali. "Their satisfaction is

my satisfaction and my satisfaction is God's satisfaction. God,

whoever bothers them, has bothered me, and whoever bothers

me, bothers You."

    Why these words? Why all these expressions of feelings of

love? Why this show of affection especially for this family? The

near future answered all of these 'whys'. The fate of this fami-

ly, the fate of each and every member of this family, gave the

answer to these 'whys'. They all began with the Prophet. The

first sacrifice was Fatima. Then Ali. Then Hasan. Then Husayn,

and, finally, Zaynab.

    In the 5th year of Ali and Fatima's marriage, one year after

Husayn, a girl was born to this family. She had to be born, and

had to closely follow Husayn. She was Zaynab. In the following

year, another girl, Umm Kulthum was born. Zaynab and Umm

Kulthum-they had the same names as the daughters of the

Prophet.

    Yes. Fatima was becoming 'everyone' to the Prophet. She

was his 'only one'. His Zaynab died. Ruqiya and Umm Kulthum

also died. In the 5th year of the migration, God gave him a son,

Ibrahim, but he also died. Now there was the Prophet and his

only remaining child, Fatima-Fatima, and her children. This

was the family of the Prophet. The love of the Prophet for

Hasan and Husayn increased. These two children had become

his whole life, and he spent all his free time with them.
 
 

THE COMPASSION OF MUHAMMAD (SAW)

    The Prophet was a man who showed great strength of will

and speech, whose sword was feared by all the caesars, kings

and powerful rulers of that time. His enemies trembled before

his anger. At the same time, he was a most sensitive person. His

heart beat with kindness. His spirit was excited by the slight-

est touch of truth, sincerity and kindness.

   At the terrible battle of Hunayn, where his enemies united

to put him under their swords and destroy him and to drag him

down to defeat and death, miraculously 6000 enemies were

taken prisoner and 40,000 camels, sheep and other plunder

were seized. A man came out from among the defeated enemies

and said, "O, Muhammad, among these prisoners are your wet-

nurse and your aunts and uncles." He then added, "If we were

in the presence of your nurse, we would expect kindness from

her, and you are greater than any of us."

   They brought a woman forward who said, "I am the nurse of

your Prophet." The Prophet asked, "What sign do you have?"

She bared her shoulder and said, "These are the marks of your

teeth which you made when I carried you on my back and you

became very angry and bit me."

   The memories flooded his mind as he recalled the kindness

of his nurse and her daughters and the time of his childhood in

the desert amidst this tribe. He was so affected and put into

such a state of wonder that tears gathered in his eyes, and he

said, "I give away my share and the shares of all of the children

of Abd al-Muttalib. Be present in the mosque tomorrow. After

the ritual prayer, announce your request to the gathering. I will

give my family's answer to you, and perhaps other tribes will

follow me." The next day he did as he said he would and freed

all of them. The few victorious warriors who objected to giving

back everything were satisfied when promised something later.

   In his home and among his family, he was like this. To the

outside world, he was a warrior, a politician, a commander full

of strength and power. But inside the home, he was a kind

father, a humble husband-simple and intimate. Even though

his wives were sometimes rude to him, he never once struck

them [wife-beating was customary before the mandate of the

Prophet]. They caused him to suffer by complaining about the

poverty in his home.

   He would leave them and go out and sleep in the storage

area. He would put up a ladder and sleep on the second floor, or

he would sweep the floor and sleep on the earth. He lived like

this for one month.

   Finally, his wives, who both loved him and had faith in him7

would surrender and became still, ashamed of their greedy

behavior. He told them to choose divorce and this world or him

and poverty. All, except one, preferred the second proposal and

remained with him.

    Whenever he left his home and wherever he went, whether

walking in the streets or the bazaars of Madinah, he carried

either Hasan or Husayn on his shoulders.

    In the mosque, he went to the pulpit to speak to the people

standing and listening to him. His grandchildren were in the

house next to the mosque. They left the house, began walking

and fell down. Suddenly the Prophet's eyes fell upon them. He

could not take his eyes off of them. He saw that they walked

with difficulty. They fell and got up again. He could no longer

bear it. He stopped in the middle of his words, anxiously came

down from the pulpit, picked them up and (as he had done when

they were babies) held them in his arms and again returned to

the pulpit. He saw the people were amazed. They were sur-

prised by the extent of the spiritual sensitivity of this powerful

man. They sensed that he wished to ask their pardon. For the

sake of his children, he had interrupted his sermon.

    Kindly holding the children, he returned to the pulpit and

said, "God spoke rightly when He said, 'Your children and your

wealth are your trials and tribulations.' My eyes fell upon these

two children. I saw that each step the children took, they fell

down. I could not bear it so I stopped speaking and went and got

them."

    They say his compassion towards Husayn was different. The

power and depth of his sensitivities exceeded all limits He took

hold of Husayn's shoulders, played with him and sang for him.

He put his feet upon Husayn's chest and took his hand. Full of

love and tenderness, he kissed him and from the bottom of his

heart, he said, "God love him. Love him."

    One day he had an invitation to go some place. He left the

house with a few of his Companions. In the bazaar his eyes sud-

denly fell upon Husayn who was playing with his playmates.

The Prophet stood before the children. He extended his hands

to take his grandchild, but the child ran from one corner to the

other. The Prophet, trying to catch him and laughing, caught

hold of him. He put one hand on the back of the child and with

his other, he took hold of his chin, kissed him and said, "Husayn

is from me and I am from Husayn. God love whoever loves

Husayn." His Companions wondrously looked on. One turned to

another and said, "The Prophet treats his grandchild in such a

manner. By God, I have a son, and I have never kissed him."

   The Prophet turned to him and said, "Whosoever shows no

kindness, receives no kindness."

   Days and nights came and went. Fatima tasted the sweet

moments of happiness and the bitter memories of the past. The

poverty she had suffered faded.

   The Battle of Khaybar came. The Jews gave the grazing

area of Fadak to the Prophet. He gave it to Fatima. Fatima, who

now had four children, found life less difficult.
 
 

THE CONQUEST OF MAKKAH

   Makkah was conquered. Fatima accompanied her victorious

father and hero husband who held the flag in his hand. They

enter Makkah. She witnessed the greatest victory of Islam. She

revisited the city where she had been born. She remembered

the good and bad times she had had in Makkah. The Mosque of

the Kabah and what had happened, the house of her father, her

life with her sisters who were no longer alive, the 'birthplace of

Fatima,' the valley of Abu Talib and the grave of her mother,

Khadija.

   She returned full of the happiness of victory and satisfac-

tion, drowned in honors and goodnesses. Her father was little

by little freed from the hatred of his enemies. His shadow fell

upon the whole of the peninsula. Her husband was a force to

reckon with at the battles of Badr, Uhud, Khandaq, Khaybar

and the conquest of Makkah. One blow of his at these battles (or

even at Hunayn and Yemen) was worth more than the prayers

of men and jinn until the day of judgment.

   She had her children-the only fruits of a life of sorrow and

difficulties, the fruits of the union of love and faith and the only

continuation of the seed of her father and of she herself. Her

children were the heart of the family, center of the home and

center of the pure family of the Prophet. Yes, it was as if Fatima

had been compensated for all of her sorrow and bitterness, as if

she had been rewarded for her virtues. That which fulfilled her

the most was the fact that her children so filled the heart and

soul of her father. She compensated for the sufferings of her

beloved father, for whom no son remained and all of whose

daughters, except herself, die in their youth.

   Now, with her beloured children, Hasan and Husayn, Zaynab

and Umm Kulthum, she felt blessed. As for the Prophet, the

sweet taste of seeing them erased the rawness and bitterness of

his life. He at last had a chance to become familiar with the

happiness and pleasure which life can offer. Now aged over

sixty, his feelings and needs for these children grew more than

ever.

   Life had been kind. A sweet smile appeared upon Fatima's

face. A halo of goodness, honor and generosity fell around her

house. Fatima, enjoyed the unexplainable kindness of her

father, the greatness of her honorable husband and the plea-

sure which her children brought her. She ascended a throne of

good fortune with her desires and aspirations fulfilled.

   But all of this peace was just the quiet before the storm .The

storm came. It was black, frightening and like a whirlwind. It

took all of her peace and destroyed her home.

   The Prophet was bed-ridden. He could no longer rise.
 
 

THE DEATH OF THE PROPHET

   All images suddenly changed in her eyes. The pure and good

Madinah now writhed with hatred and fear. Politics pushed

faith and piety from the city of the Prophet. The promises of

brothers were broken, and tribal oaths again renewed. The

Prophet was no longer a leader. Ali was sent for Ayisha and

Hafsa called their fathers.

   The voice of Umar was heard saying the ritual prayer, then

the voice of Abu Bakr. The army stood without words. Against

the words and even insults to her father, they would not move.

>From all corners came objections about the choice of Usama as

the leader of the army, although the Prophet had himself cho-

sen Usama and had given him the banner of leadership.

   It was Thursday, and what a Thursday. "A rain of tears fell

from the eyes of my father. He ordered, 'Bring a tablet and a pen

so that something can be written. Then that when I am gone,

you will not be led astray.' Those opposed caused an uproar.

They did not allow it. They said he was just mumbling. They

said the book of God existed, and there was no need of anything

more.

   As Fatima recalled: "And now, father no longer spoke. The

house of Ayisha, which shared a wall with my house, was silent.

The Prophet's head was in Ali's lap. His eyes were beginning to

close. He spoke to me only with his eyes.

   "I could no longer bear all of these difficulties. He was my

father, and I was his mother. I feared he might leave me in this

city in this uproar!

    "He did not take his eyes off me. He was very worried about

me. He read in my face that I was suffering. His heart bled for

me, Fatima, his daughter, his youngest daughter, his most

beloved daughter.

    "He indicated things to me with his eyes. I leaned my face

forward and placed it on his. He whispered to me that his sick-

ness was death. 'I will die.'

    "I picked up my head. Misery and terror so overcame me

that I lost all my strength. The misery of remaining alive after

my father almost tore my heart apart.

    "Why did he give just me this message? I who am the weak-

est among all the rest?' I wondered.

    "But his look was fixed upon me. His heart burned for his

youngest daughter who, like a baby, needed him. He again indi-

cated that I should draw near. It was as if he wanted to contin-

ue what he had been saying, 'But, you, my daughter, will be the

first person from among my family who will come after me and

who will join me.' Then he added, 'Are you not satisfied, Fatima,

that you will be the leading woman of these people?'

    "What a significant condolence. Only this news could lessen

the pain of my misery over the death of my father! 'May God

bless you, father. How well you know how to give condolences to

Fatima.' I understood why among all these people, I alone must

hear the news of his death. Now I had found the strength to cry

and mourn. The man was dying. The protector of orphans and

the refuge of widows was dying

    "Suddenly the Prophet opened his eyes and said, 'Fatima,

this poem is in praise of Abu Talib. Don't recite a poem in my

praise. Recite the Koran. Recite!'

    "Then the Prophet continued: 'Muhammad is no more than

a Prophet. Other prophets have been sent before him. If he dies

or is killed, you will go backwards and return to the reactionary,

despotism of ancient time.'

    "Then he said, 'God curse those who set up the graves of

their Prophets as places of worship.' While whispering to him-

self, he said, 'Is there a place in hell for oppressive dictators?'

    "He continued, 'We have given that home in the next world

to those who do not oppress and create corruption. Whosoever

opposes oppression and corruption should not seek them and

should not do them.'

    "The politicians did not allow him to write anything, but

asked him to just say what he wanted to write. 'What do you

want to write?' Annoyed, he looked at them and said, 'What I

intend to do is better than what you call me for.' He also

answered, 'I counsel you to three things: first, push the poly-

theists out of the Arabian peninsula; second, accept the agents

of the tribes in the way that I accepted them; third, ...!

    "Suddenly they all looked at Ali. He was silenced by his sor-

row. The father was silent. His silence continued. Looking into

a corner, tears welled up in his eyes, and he pondered long.

    Fatima continued: aI screamed in pain. My grief was from

your grief, father. In a tone of peace, in answer to me, he said,

'There will never be any sorrow for your father again.'

    "My father's lips were sealed, the lips which recited the rev-

elation, the lips which had kissed me and my children. He

looked at us for awhile, and then his eyes closed. Blood flowed

from his throat. His head rested upon Ali's chest. Ali kept a

frightening and heavy silence. It was as if Ali died before my

father. Ayisha lamented upon my father's head, as did his other

wives.

    "The moments passed in the silence of death. Suddenly his

hands, which were in a position of prayer upon Usama's head,

fell to his sides and his lips moved, 'To my highest Friend.' Then

all things ended.

    "Father, oh father! You accepted God's invitation. You have

gone to Gabriel,' I cried.

    "Outside there was an uproar. The city was crying without

hesitation or fear. I heard the cries of Umar, who said, 'The

Prophet has not died. He rose to heaven like Jesus Christ. He

will return. Whosoever says the Prophet has died is a hypocrite.

I will cut-off his head.'

    "Several hours passed. It became quiet. I saw that Abu Bakr

and Umar entered the room. Abu Bakr pulled back the covering

over my father's face. He cried and left. Umar also left.

    aAli began the work of ablution and putting on the white

cloth of the dead. My husband, Ali, Abu al-Hasan [father of

Hasan, one of Ali's titles], washed the pure body of my father

while he continued crying. He poured water upon him and fire

upon my soul. People had lost their Prophet. People remained

without refuge, the Companions without a leader but Ali and I

lost everybody and everything. Suddenly, I sensed that in this

city, in the world, we were exposed.

    "All at once everything turned around. Faces changed.

Terror fell from the door and wall. Politics replaced truth. The

handshakes which had bound brothers together in their oaths

moved apart, and relatives moved closer [that is, old tribal

blood ties began to replace the new national, religious ties]. The

elders and aristocracy took on a new life beside the cold body of

my father, the Prophet of God and Messenger to the people.

    "For Ali and myself the event was so terrible that we could

think of nothing but the death of the Prophet. The city was full

of plans, plots and conflicts. For us existence, all at one time,

emptied itself. The shadow of fear upon his face, Abbas, our old-

est uncle, came and in a tone full of meaning and fear,

addressed Ali. 'Put your hands forward so that I can give my

allegiance. Then they can say the uncle of the Prophet of God

gave his allegiance to the son of the uncle of the prophet of God.

The members of your family will also give their allegiance to

you. When this is finished, no one will be able to oppose it.

    "What? Is there someone who wants this position?' asked

Ali.

    "Tomorrow you shall know,' replied Abbas.

   "Ali sensed the danger. But this sense of danger passed

through him like lightening and left. He was inwardly over-

flowing with sorrow. The Prophet was his relative, his father,

his guardian, his teacher, his brother, his friend. The Prophet

embodied all his faith and feelings. The Prophet was the exis-

tence of Ali. Ali could not bring himself to think about the

events taking place outside of this home. He sensed the

Prophet's spirit under his hands. He sensed a trembling. He did

the ablution. He was busy with the Prophet and with his chil-

dren, our children."

   Hasan was seven, Husayn six, Zaynab five and Umm

Kulthum only three. Destiny had planned a life of enmity for

the young children after the Prophet's death. Outside the city at

Saqifa, the Helpers of the Prophet gathered together to choose

the Prophet's representative from among themselves. They felt

that the Quraysh of Makkah had their own plans. Abu Bakr,

Umar and Abu Ubaydah arrived and convinced them that the

Prophet had said, 'Leaders are from among the Quraysh.' They

reasoned that the replacement for the Prophet must be from

among his family. As a result, Abu Bakr was chosen at Saqifa.
 
 

RECALLING FATIMA'S LIFE

    Fatima 's childhood occurred after her mother had given all

of her wealth for the cause of Islam. The peacefulness of the life

of her father and the happiness of her youth with her sisters

had passed. Her mother had become old and broken. Her moth-

er's age was beyond sixty-five. Happiness, wealth and the good

fortune of life were replaced by weakness, poverty, difficulties,

an environment of hatred, and the treachery of strangers.

    Her mother, Khadija, before being the mother of Fatima and

wife of the Prophet, had been the first associate and the great-

est companion of a man on whom the heavy mission of heaven

had fallen, the mission of removing the blackness of ignorance,

the mission of returning the fire of God to mankind, the mission

of freeing people from the chains of bondage by changing the

economic system of slavery and the mission of freeing people

from the mental prison of idol worship, Khadija was now the

mother of Fatima, but completely occupied with the Prophet

who had received inner inspiration about that which is above

life and happiness. Around Khadija a fire full of hatred, the

troubles of the worship of materialism and enmity spread. The

mother of Fatima was busy with the difficulties and the revolu-

tion of the Prophet. The Prophet lived amidst his troubles and

his revolution giving the message of God to his people.

    There is no heart which could sense what Fatima was feel-

ing. The love of Fatima for the Prophet was much more than the

love of a daughter for her father. She was the daughter who was

also the mother of her father, the sympathesizer with him in his

exile and loneliness, the acceptor of his troubles and his sorrow,

the companion in the religious struggle, the link in the chain of

his line; his last daughter and, during the last years of his life,

his only child. After his death, she was his only survivor, the

light of his home, the only pillar of his family and, finally, the

only mother of his children, his inheritors.

    Just when Fatima needed the love of her mother and the

kindness of her father, she sensed that her mother and father,

(both of whom had lived only with pain, loneliness and misery)

needed her child-like kindness and caresses.

    There is a saying that a heart which finds a friend through

trouble and sorrow develops a friendship which, when com-

pared to a love based on happiness and pleasure, is much deep-

er and more certain. The feeling with which one views how one

has lived one's life and how one's friend has answered one's

needs is not the same as the feeling of familiarity one senses

from the friend in one's own being. For when one sees that one

has sacrificed one's life and that the needs of the friend have

been met, the spirit-in the heights of its subtleness and the

depths of its feelings-forms another spirit within the self-the

spirit of friendship.

    And Fatima gave such friendship to the Prophet that there

is no comparison to one who gives love to one's father. The inti-

macy and purity of feelings which she had for him created a

continuous link and a situation incapable of being described.

With the spirit of her father within herself, she was able to bear

the years of difficulties, hatred, fear and torture. She bore the

fact that her hero father was sacrificed and remained a

stranger in his own country, unknown in his own city, alone

among his family, alone among those who spoke his language.

He remained without anyone to whom he could talk. He had to

stand face to face with ignorance and idol worship. He had to

stand face to face in savage conflicts with untamed elders, petty

aristocrats and hated slave dealers.

    His shoulders were bent under the heavy weight of the

divine mission of the One God. He was alone in this long walk

from slavery to freedom, from the dark valleys of Makkah to the

peaks of the mountain of light, alone and without a companion

while his soul was suffering from the hatred, plots and blind-

ness of the people. His body was wounded from the troubles and

blows of the enemy. He tried harder than anyone else to bring

happiness and salvation to his tribe, and yet he and his family

suffered because of the trouble his tribe caused him. They treat-

ed him as a stranger.

    On the one hand, he was alone, a suffering spirit, bearer of

the revelation and on the other, he was a storm of love and fiery

faith. Tribal enmity, the blindness of the people, the loneliness

of not having anyone and the heavy weight of the load of the

'trust' he had brought caused him anguish. God had offered the

burden of bearing this weight to the heavens and the earth, but

they had rejected it. Only mankind was willing to accept the

responsibility. In following this, the Prophet, everyday from

morning until night, cried out a warning (to whomever passed

by the Safa hill) of danger to people who were asleep and pas-

sive. He did this under the rain of problems that sought him out

each day.

   He announced the message in the sacred precinct of the

Masjid al-Haram beside the dar al-madweh, the meeting place

of the wealthy Quraysh aristocrats and before the eyes of 330

dumb, senseless, spiritless idols who were the gods of the peo-

ple. He called the people to awaken. He cried for freedom. At the

end of the day, tired and exhausted, wounded internally, his

heart overflowing with pain, he returned to a silent home

empty-handed, followed by mockery. Within his home there was

a woman broken by the sufferings of life, her body and her

whole existence full of love, her two eyes waiting in anticipa-

tion, watching the door.

   -Fatima, a young girl, weak, moved step by step with her

father through the streets of hatred to the Masjid al-haram

under the taunts of curses, mockery, and contempt. Whenever

he fell he became like a bird that had fallen out of the nest.

When a bird falls from its nest, the possibility arises that it will

fall into the claws and beaks of wild animals or birds. Fatima

threw herself upon her father. With all of her strength, she pro-

tected him. With her small, fine hands, she took her hero into

her arms. With the edge of her small, fine fingers, alive with

kindness, she cleaned the blood from her father's head and

hands. She healed his wounds with her soft words She encour-

aged the man who carried the Word of God. She returned him

to their home.

   She was a link of kindness, attraction and love between a

suffering mother and a suffering father. When her bloodied

father returned from Taif, she alone came forward to greet him

and with her child-like, endearing efforts, attracted him to her-

self, despite of all of his worries and troubles. She attracted his

heart towards her warm reception.

   In the valley of the confine she lived three years beside her

sad, bed-ridden, elderly mother and her suffering father cov-

ered with diffficulties. She bore hunger, sorrow and loneliness.

After the death of her mother and the death of the uncle of the

great Prophet, she filled the sudden emptiness his life with her

kindness and endless understanding. The Prophet was now

alone both inside the home and outside of it.

   She acted as a mother to her father who was now very much

alone. She devoted love, faith and all the moments of her life to

her father. Through her kindness, the feelings of her father

were satisfied. Through her devotion and faith in the mission of

her father, she gave him energy and honor.

   By going to Ali's house and by accepting his noble poverty,

she gave him hope. Through Hasan, Husayn and Zaynab she

offered her father the sweetest and dearest fruits of her life.

Her children compensated the Prophet for his terrible losses:

the deaths of his three infant sons and the deaths of his three

grown daughters. The roots of Fatima's lifelong love were deep-

er than the feelings of a child of eighteen or twenty-eight years.

She was stronger than life, purer than will and faith. All the

golden webs of the beyond were created in the soul, depth and

conscience of Fatima. They joined her with the spirit of her

father.

   And now this delicate web was torn by the thorn of the

death of her father. Fatima must 'remain' without him and

'live'. How terrifying and heavy was this blow to the frail heart

and weak body of Fatima, this girl who lived only through love

of her father, faith in her father. She lived because of her father.

   It is no accident that the Prophet, upon his deathbed, con-

soled her and gave her the strength, the strength to bear her

father's death. This strength was the only gift from the death of

her dear one. The special news was that she would join him

sooner than any of the others.
 
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HER FINAL STRUGGLE SHE SEEKS

Out the Soil of Her Father's Grave
 
 

Now the only meaning she found in life was the kind soil

of her father's grave and the hopeful news he gave her

when he said, 'Fatima, you will be the first person to join

me from among my family.'

But when? What an exciting prospect!

   Her suffering spirit, like a wounded bird whose wings have

been broken,was further wounded by three inescapable sights:

the silent and sorrowful face of her husband, the saddened faces

of her children and the sight of the silent, cold earth upon her

father's grave in the corner of Ayisha's house.

   Whenever the pain in her heart increased and she lost her

breath from crying, she sensed that she was in need of the kind-

ness and condolences of her father. She sought him out. She fell

upon the silent earth of his grave. She stared at his grave and

suddenly it was as if she had just heard of the death of her

father for the first time. She cried out.

   She pushed her fingers into the earth. She filled her empty

hands with it. She tried to see him behind the curtain of her

tears. She put the earth upon her face and smelt it. For a

moment she was at peace. She had found condolence, but, sud-

denly, in a voice which broke with tears she said, "Anyone who

smells the earth of Ahmad (Muhammad) has lost nothing if he

never again smells any other musk. O father, what miseries

have fallen upon me after you. If they had fallen upon a bright

day, they would turn it into night." Gradually she would grow

silent. The earth of her father's grave poured through her

senseless fingers. She looked at it with painful amazement.

Then she became motionless and silent.

    She put all of her sorrows in the death of her father. Each

day was like the first day of his death. Her impatience grew

everyday, and her cries became more painful. The wives of the

Helpers gathered round her and cried with her. The waves of

sorrows pressed upon her heart and caused her eyes to bleed.

    Her sorrow was more disturbing than anyone could con-

ceive. No one could console her or ask her to be patient. Nights

and days passed like this. The Companions were warmed by

their power, riches and conquests. Ali was lost in sorrow and

Fatima in thoughts of death. She became impatient to receive

the gift her father had promised her.
 
 

THE DEATH OF FATIMA

    Each day that passed she became more impatient for death.

The only way she could bear to remain alive was to seek refuge

in her father, to draw near him when her faith and spirit over-

flowed with complaints and pain.

    How great was her need for such a refuge, for such a peace?

But time passed slowly. Ninety-five days had passed since her

father promised her death, and death would not come.

    It came. On Monday, the 3rd of Jamadi al-thani, in the 11th

year of the migration, in the year of the death of her father, it

came. She kissed each one of her children.

    Now was the moment to bid farewell to Ali. How difficult it

was! And Ali had to remain alone in the world for thirty more

years. She sent for Umm Rafia to come. Umm Rafia had

arranged the Prophet's funeral.

    She said, "O servant of God. Pour water on me so that I may

wash myself." With patience and peace, she performed the ablu-

tion. Then she put on the clothes which she had not worn since

the death of her father, the clothes she had put away. It was as

if she had put aside the memory of her mourning and now was

going to see a dear friend.

    She said to Umm Rafia, "Put my bed in the middle of the

room." Softly and quietly she stepped into the bed. She faced

the Kabah and she waited. A moment passed, moments.

Suddenly cries were heard within the house. She closed her

eyes to the world and opened her eyes upon her beloved await-

ing her. A candle of fire and sorrow was extinguished in Ali's

house. And Ali remained alone, with his children.

   She had asked Ali to bury her at night so that no one would

recognize her grave or follow her corpse. Ali did as she had

asked. But no one knew how. And they still do not know where.

In her home? Or in Baqia'? It is not clear. And where in Baqia?

It is not clear. That which is clear is the pain of Ali, that night,

next to the grave of Fatima.

   Madinah was silent in the night. All Muslims were asleep.

The night was only broken by the quiet whisperings of Ali. Ali

was very much alone both in the city and in his home-without

the Prophet and without Fatima. Like a mountain of pain, he

sat upon the earth of the grave of Fatima. Hours passed. Night,

quiet and silent, listened to the pain of his whispering. Baqia

was peaceful, fortunate. Madinah was without loyalty. All

remained in silence. The awakened graves and sleeping city lis-

tened!

   The wind of the night took the words flowing with difficulty

from the spirit of Ali (as he sat beside Fatima's grave) towards

the house of the Prophet: "To you from me and from your daugh-

ter, who followed you in such haste, greetings O Prophet of God.'

   "My patience and my ability have weakened from the fate of

your dearest, O Prophet of God. But how can I seek patience

with such terrible misfortune and los?

   "I placed you in the grave, but you still exist in my heart. We

are all from God and unto God we shall return. But my sorrow

is eternal, and my nights sleepless until God takes me to the

home in which you are now.

   "Right now your daughter will tell you how your tribe joined

each other against her and took away her rights. Insist that she

tell you everything that happened. All these things happened

even though not much time has passed since your death, and

people have not forgotten you .

   "Greetings to both of you, greetings from a man who has nei-

ther anger nor sorrow."

   He remained silent for a moment. He suddenly sensed the

exhaustion of a whole lifetime. It was as if with every word

pulled from the depths of his being, he gave up a part of his

existence.

   He was alone. He did not know what to do. Stay? Return

home? How could he leave Fatima here alone? How could he

return alone to his home? The city looked like a devil in the

darkness of the night. Schemes, treacheries and shamelessness

awaited him.

   How could he stay? His children, the people, truth, respon-

sibilities and a heavy mission awaited him. His pain was so

heavy that it destroyed his strong spirit. He could not decide

Hesitation gripped his soul. Go? Stay? He sensed that he was

unable to do either. He did not know what he would do. He

explained to Fatima: "If I leave you it is not because I do not

want to stay near you. If I stay here [die] have I not renounced

the fate that God promises those who bear patiently?"

   Then he arose, stood and faced the Prophet's house, with a

passion which overflowed into words. He wanted to say that he,

Ali, was returning that which had been entrusted to him.

'Listen to what she says. Ask her to tell you everything precise-

ly. Have her recount all the things that she saw after you, one

by one!'
 
 

EPILOGUE

    Fatima lived like this and died like this. After her death,

she began a new life in history. Fatima appeared as a halo

around the faces of all of the oppressed who later became

the multitudes of Islam. All of the sufferers, all of those whose

rights had been destroyed, all who had been deceived, all took

the name of Fatima as their emblem.

   The memory of Fatima grew with the love and wonderful

faith of the men and women, who throughout the history of

Islam, fought for freedom and justice. Throughout the centuries

they were punished under the merciless and bloody lash of the

caliphates. Their cries and anger grew and overflowed from

their wounded hearts.

   This is why in the history of all Muslim nations and among

the deprived masses of the Islamic community, Fatima has been

the source of inspiration for those who desire their rights, for

those who seek justice, for those who resist oppression, cruelty,

crime and discrimination.

   It is most difficult to speak about the personality of Fatima.

Fatima was the ideal that Islam wanted a woman to be. The

form of her face was fashioned by the Prophet himself. He melt-

ed her and made her pure in the fires of diffficulties, poverty,

revolution, deep understanding and the wonder of humanity.

   She was a symbol for all the various dimensions of woman-

hood. She was the perfect model of a daughter when dealing

with her father. She was the perfect model of a wife when deal-

ing with her husband. She was the perfect model of a mother

when raising her children. She was the perfect model of a

responsible, fighting woman when confronting her time and the

fate of her society.

   She herself was a guide-that is, an outstanding example of

someone to follow, an ideal type of woman, one whose life bore

witness for any woman who wishes to 'become herself'-

through her own choice.

    She answered the question of how to be a woman with her

wonderful childhood and adulthood, her constant struggle and

resistance on two fronts (inside and out) in the home of her

father, in the home of her husband, in her society, in her

thoughts and behavior and in her life as a whole.

    I do not know what to say. I have said a great deal. Still

much remains unsaid.

    In the symphony of all the amazing aspects of the great spir-

it of Fatima, that which causes the most wonder in me, is this:

that Fatima was the traveling companion, was the one who

stepped in the same steps of her father was the one who flew

together with the great spirit of Ali through the heights of

humanity towards perfection and completion was the one who

passed through all the stages of the ascent of the spirit and the

psyche.

    She was not just a wife to Ali. Ali looked upon her as a

friend, a friend who was familiar with his pains and his great

aspirations. She was his endless refuge, the one who listened to

his secrets. She was the only companion of his loneliness. This

is why Ali looked at her with a special look and also at her chil-

dren.

    After Fatima, Ali took other wives and he had children from

them. But from the beginning, he separated the children who

were from Fatima from his other children. The latter are called

'Bani Ali',[that is, sons of Ali] and the former, 'Bani Fatima' [the

children of Fatima].

    Isn't it strange! The children of Ali derived their names from

Fatima. And we saw that the Prophet also saw her with differ-

ent eyes. Among all of his daughters, he would only discipline

Fatima. He relied only upon her. From an early age, she accept-

ed the great invitation.

    I do not know what to say about her or how to say it? I want-

ed to imitate the French writer who was speaking one day in a

conference about the Virgin Mary. He said, "For 1700 years all

of the speakers have spoken of Mary. For 1700 years, all

philosophers and thinkers of various nations of the East and

West have spoken of the value of Mary. For 1700 years, the

poets of the world have spent all of their creative efforts and

power in their praise of Mary. For 1700 years, all of the painters

and artists have created wonderful works of art showing the

face and form of Mary. But the totality of all that has been said

and the efforts of all the artists and thinkers throughout these

many centuries have not been able to better describe the great-

ness of Mary than the simple words, 'Mary was the mother of

Jesus Christ."'

   And I wanted to begin in this manner with Fatima. I got

stuck. I wished to say, 'Fatima was the daughter of the great

Khadija,' but I sensed this would not fully describe Fatima. I

wished to say, 'Fatima was the daughter of Muhammad,' but I

sensed this would not fully describe Fatima. I wished to say,

'Fatima was the wife of Ali,' but I sensed this would not fully

describe Fatima. I wished to say, 'Fatima was the mother of

Hasan and Husayn,' but I sensed this would not fully describe

Fatima. I wished to say, 'Fatima is the mother of Zaynab,' but I

still sensed this would not fully describe Fatima.

   No, these are all true, and none of them is Fatima
 
 
 
 

                          Fatemeh is Fatemeh