The Young Moslem Looks at Life/Chapter 1

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CHAPTER ONE

IN THE WAY OF ALLAH


One summer day, while the sun shone brightly in the sapphire sky over Central Asia, Mohammed Beg lay amid the flowers of a mountain pasture watching the herds of grazing sheep. He was thinking—thinking of his grandfather, now an old man, who was soon to start on the pilgrimage to Mecca. His grandfather, a sincere and devout Moslem, had been planning this pilgrimage for many years. Every Moslem hopes to make the journey to Mecca once in a lifetime, and thus fill up one's full measure of devotion to the sacred law of Islam.

Mohammed Beg was deeply interested in the old man's preparations, and the more he thought of the great journey the more he longed to go with his grandfather, Abdullah. How grand if he, too, could be a haji (the title given to one who has made the hajj, or pilgrimage to Mecca). In all his life the aged Abdullah had never left his home city of Kashgar, and from his birth had lived high up on the "roof of the world" in the heart of Central Asia. He had never crossed those vast ranges of the highest mountains of the world which separate his native land of Chinese Turkestan from the scorching plains of India.

He had always thought of that journey as perilous, for the roads across the mountains are narrow and steep, and travel is possible only on foot or horseback. But now as the old man contemplated the visit to the Holy City of Islam his fears were dissipated, and he eagerly anticipated the realization of his long-cherished dream.

Mohammed Beg's longing to go was of a somewhat different nature. Oh, yes, he would love to see Mecca, of course, and know the joy of keeping the Law in full, to see that sacred city of Islam, to be one of the great brotherhood that gathers there in throngs from all parts of the Moslem world. But more than this, as a lad of nineteen he had a youth's keen desire to see the world, and to observe the different manners and customs of other lands.

What sheer delight it would be to see the great cities of India, to say nothing of the famous cities of Arabia, the Moslem Holy Land. Of course, it would be hard to get out of those rugged mountains, thought Mohammed Beg, and it would be many months before he and his grandfather could return to Kashgar. Disease might seize them suddenly, and even death might prevent their return. But he did not dwell long on these possibilities, indeed they but served to emphasize the fact that his poor old grandfather needed a companion to help him in all the difficulties of the long and dangerous journey. At last he said to himself, "I shall go. If it is the will of Allah, I, too, shall see Mecca."


Filled with his new enthusiasm, Mohammed Beg went to his family and told them of his plan to accompany Abdullah. Fortunately, he received their approval, and for several days he and his grandfather were busy purchasing clothes and supplies for the long trek. Finally, with their bundles packed, they started off on foot, after saying many farewells mingled with joy and sorrow, and began the journey of many months. Southward over the mountains toward Srinagar, in Kashmir, they plodded. Here and there they passed the villages of their own people perched above the narrow footpath on the side of the cliff. Like themselves, these villagers had never left their ancient homes, except a few traders among them, who would occasionally drive their flocks of sheep and goats all the way down to Srinagar laden with bags of merchandise to be exchanged for salt and tobacco. Like them, too, these people were all followers of the Prophet Mohammed, and wherever they stopped to chat with the villagers they always were sure to receive encouragement for their pilgrimage and a prayer for their safety on the way. Mohammed Beg was the envy of the young men he met, who heard with eager ears of the great adventure on which he was starting.

At the end of the first day our two travelers sought out a serai, or resthouse, and stopped for the night. These serais are indescribably crude, and without any sort of conveniences. They are merely shelters from storms and the heat of the sun. It was already half filled with travelers, but Mohammed Beg selected an unoccupied corner, and there they opened their packs and spread their scanty bedding for the night on the hare mud floor. But before retiring they must cook their meal of meat stew and rough unleavened cakes, and for this purpose they had brought with them a few pots and pans. Finally, after they had eaten and when the night was well advanced, they joined the other Moslem occupants of the resthouse in offering the last or fifth prayer of the day, and witnessed to their devotion to Islam by reciting its brief but powerful creed "There is no god but Allah, and Mohammed is the apostle of Allah."

Day after day this program was repeated as they trudged through the high passes of the Karakoram range. Occasionally other travelers would join them. Before long they were in western Tibet. Once they had dropped down on to the desolate plateau across which the upper Indus flows they met quaint Buddhist priests carrying their prayer wheels. Their religion was as different from that of Mohammed Beg as day from night. They did not have five stated times of prayer every day, no bowing and prostrating. Not even verbal repetition the mere whirling of the wheel which contained written prayers in Tibetan characters sufficed to complete their acts of devotion; and of course the more whirling the better!

As they traveled farther down the valley of the Indus towards India they encountered Moslems with customs never known in Kashgar. Abdullah was amazed to discover that there were different sects in Islam, and Mohammed Beg was puzzled by their strange ways. The boy knew enough Hindustani, the language used over large parts of northern India and adjacent regions of Central Asia, to ask them about their beliefs and practices.

"Do you people go to Mecca for the pilgrimage?" he asked one of them.

"No," the man replied, "our holy place is Karbala, near Baghdad, where lies the grave of beloved Husain, the martyred son of Ali, and we go there by ship from India. When our dead are buried we put pieces of wood with sacred inscriptions in Arabic in their armpits, and turn their faces toward Karbala."

Weary but jubilant as every milepost was passed, our travelers went on and on until, by way of the lofty pass known as Zoji La, they dropped down, down, down into the wild valley of the roaring Sind River. They followed its narrow wooded gorges until they reached that region of surpassing beauty, the Vale of Kashmir. With the green rice fields of the valley encircled with snowy ranges, this spot has been well described as "an emerald set in diamonds."

However, Mohammed Beg was not so much impressed with the beauty of the scenery as with the fact that they had come thus far successfully over the most tedious part of their journey. From here on they would not have to depend on their own legs. Automobiles, trains, and ships would take them the rest of the long journey to Mecca, and from now on every day would be full of interesting sights and new wonders.

Already he was discovering that, though many miles away from home, all the Moslems whom he met were his brothers. They all used the same holy Koran. They all said their prayers in Arabic with him just as the Moslems did back in Kashgar, and as he knew he would find them doing all over India.

They found themselves in Srinagar, the capital of Kashmir, on a Friday, the Moslem Sabbath, so they said their prayers in the great mosque with thousands of the faithful. Mohammed Beg was interested in what he saw, and often surprised. As for old Abdullah, he was shocked and horrified. There was so much hustle and bustle in Srinagar, so many tooting automobiles rushing about, that they were afraid to cross the street. The buildings, too, were so different. They were told they were patterned after the architecture of Wilaiyat (Europe).

On that Friday in Srinagar, when all the good Moslems he knew left their work and closed their shops to observe the Sabbath of Islam, Mohammed Beg noticed that some Moslem merchants bought and sold as usual. This gave him a rude shock, for in Kashgar the bazaars closed from sunset Thursday night until sunset Friday night, the Sabbath period.

The next day bright and early they took their seats in the bus that was to take them on the next stage of their journey. It was their first ride in an automobile. Faster than they had ever dreamed possible our two pilgrims sped down the Jhelum Valley two hundred miles to the railway station at Rawalpindi, where still more thrills, surprises and shocks awaited them. They had a wait of several hours before they took the train for Bombay, so while Abdullah guarded the luggage Mohammed Beg went about seeing the sights.

As he walked through the streets of the bazaar it seemed to Mohammed Beg that he was in a world of magic. There were lights that could be turned on and off at will by pressing a button, and without striking a match. Water ran from pipes, and one could drink his fill without having to carry it from a distant spring or stream. It was hot, but people kept cool with whirring fans that worked by electric power. He heard a phonograph for the first time, and marveled as he listened to that whirling black disc recite a whole chapter from the Koran just as the Moslem clergy would do in real life! He saw men speak into a black horn-shaped thing, and was told that they were speaking to their distant friends over wires that were strung for miles all over the country.

Mohammed Beg rushed back to old Abdullah with tales of these wonders. Not only did he tell his grandfather of these strange things, but he shared with him his disturbed thoughts. The Moslems here in this strange city seemed to be so busily engaged in the pursuit of wealth that they were not much concerned with the religious way of life. Could it be that religion did not matter so much as he and his family had been taught to believe? No, never! Such thoughts were intolerable.

The two pilgrims were so excited they could scarcely eat before the train came. At last with a great ringing of bells and tooting of whistles the train rolled into the station from Peshawar. Gingerly Mohammed Beg and old Abdullah climbed into a thirdclass compartment, crowded with men, women and children from the many provinces and religious groups of India. All stared at the two travelers from Kashgar, with their Mongolian features, and their curious, heavy wool clothes, which were so hot and which seemed so strange beside the loose white garments of the others.

In fact, Mohammed Beg and his grandfather did not feel very comfortable. They began to realize that they not only were in another world, but that they did not fit into it. It all seemed to be moving too fast for them. They wondered if they could get used to it. The train traveled so fast that at first it frightened them, but gradually they accepted speed as an inseparable part of their new experience. When they saw their first airplane soaring overhead at a hundred miles an hour they took it as a matter of course. "One need be surprised at nothing now," said Mohammed Beg to old Abdullah, who nodded and muttered a half-dazed assent.

As time slipped by, and Mohammed Beg had occasion to notice the habits and customs of his fellow Moslems in the train compartment, he was continually measuring them by the old familiar religious standards of his own country. It was second nature to him to do that. In Kashgar a good Moslem is known by the regularity with which he says his five daily prayers. There were some, he noted, who were faithful to their religious duties. These, even if the train were moving at the time of prayer, would do as he and Abdullah did, carefully place their prayer rugs on the long benches of the compartment and, facing Mecca as nearly as they could, faithfully perform their devotions. If the train stopped and they could get out to say their prayers on the station platform, so much the better. But he noticed that where there was one faithful Moslem who would do so, there were dozens who carelessly neglected their prayers altogether.

Falling into conversation with some of their fellow Moslem passengers, Mohammed Beg learned that more changes were taking place among the Moslems of India than he had ever dreamed were possible. Some of the young men with whom he talked told him about the Moslem university at Aligarh, where the old classical studies of the Islamic curriculum have been given up in favor of the modern scientific courses of the West. He learned that many of the young men are today studying English instead of Arabic. It was pointed out to him that these changes in education were necessary, if the Moslem community was to keep abreast of the times, and if it was to keep pace with the other progressive nations and communities of the world. These young men insisted that one could very easily adapt Islam to the developments of civilization, and that it was the duty of the present-day Moslems to do so.

But Mohammed Beg was doubtful. He greatly feared that one could not go in for innovations without forsaking religion. His experience with the prayerless Moslems he had seen confirmed him in this opinion. He was still more sure of this when he learned of the growing number of Moslem women who shamelessly go about with uncovered faces before strange men. He was told that they dined openly with men, and regularly played games in mixed clubs, where both men and women meet freely as is done among the Christians.

Later on in Bombay he learned that some of these universities attended by Moslem youth have anti-God societies and that a growing number of these youth have given up Islam in everything but name. Their religion is nothing more to them than a social club. Many of them use it solely to further their own selfish social and political ends. They have come to feel no need for religion, no need for God.

To Mohammed Beg this was a most unholy and blasphemous situation, and he felt that somehow the longer he stayed in such an atmosphere the more chance there was of his being contaminated. However, in reality he did not fear so much for himself. He had been brought up in the faith and he was sure he would never lose his belief in Allah.

"Allahu akbar [God is most great]," sighed Abdullah. "No matter what the rest of the Moslem world does, we shall remain true Moslems."

In spite of these modernistic tendencies Mohammed Beg felt sure that there were millions who were still unshaken in their faith in Mohammed and in the holy Koran. In fact, he met many on his journey across India who did not believe that their religion was in danger, and who were sure that in the end the way of Allah would prevail.

Still his experience in India had disturbed him greatly, and he was glad that they would be moving on very soon. What a relief it would be to board the pilgrim ship for Mecca, and be once more among true believers, who were not contaminated by these modern ideas.

Mohammed Beg and Abdullah had been depressed by the fact that they found very few people talking about the pilgrimage in India. Here and there they met an old man who was planning to go; but for the most part people seemed to be too busy with their own affairs to think about the obligations of their holy faith. It was daily being impressed upon them that there was a new age an age about which Kashgar knew nothing at all!

When the day of sailing from Bombay arrived Mohammed Beg and Abdullah were full of joy and enthusiasm. They went to the dock as early as possible armed with their inoculation certificates, a requirement which British authority in India has introduced to prevent the spread of smallpox and cholera. With hundreds of other pilgrims they passed the medical inspection and boarded the ship for Jidda, the port from which they would travel the fifty-three miles inland to Mecca.

While' the more wealthy travelers occupied cabins, the great majority slept right on the deck itself. Some provided themselves with folding camp cots, and a good supply of fruit and canned food. However, Abdullah and Mohammed Beg were content to eat such food as they could get from the ship's cook in addition to the bread and cheese they had brought with them.

Mohammed Beg and his grandfather found a place for themselves under an awning that covered the rear deck, spread out their belongings, and prepared to make themselves as comfortable as possible. Most of the pilgrims on this boat were Indians. But they were from all over India and Burma, and there were even Afghans from Kabul. The few women in the party were, of course, each accompanied by a father, husband or brother.

Mohammed Beg again enjoyed exchanging experiences with his fellow travelers. He was especially eager to discuss his trip through India. Much of what he had seen and heard he could not understand, but at least he had seen and heard enough to feel that either the reformers of Islam were wrong, or those of the orthodox party were wrong. If he and old Abdullah were traveling "in the way of Allah," then there were many who were following the strange ways of the reformers. Surely these must be headed for Jehannum (the fires of hell)!

Mohammed Beg was amazed to hear from one of the Afghan pilgrims of the efforts made in Afghanistan by King Amanullah to introduce reforms, and how the people would not tolerate them. This bold reformer had tried to do away with the veil, and even his own wife had gone unveiled in the presence of men. He had tried to introduce the education of girls, and the wearing of Western clothes; but the people were too orthodox to stand for such new ideas. They revolted and drove him from his throne, and from his country. And today he lives the life of an exile somewhere in Europe, in company with the former sultan of Turkey and others who have lost their thrones in recent times.

India, of course, Mohammed Beg pointed out, was different. It was ruled by foreign Christians, and Moslems were not able to live there as true Moslems should. Perhaps that was the explanation. However, if they were true Moslems they should leave the country and migrate to some strictly Moslem land where they could practise their religion according to the law of Islam. Mohammed Beg remembered that when he was a child an Indian Moslem family had come to Kashgar. This they had done because agitators had preached against the foreign rule and urged all true followers of Islam to move out of India and seek religious freedom elsewhere.

But if the situation in India disturbed him, the situation in Turkey and Iran, as he heard of these countries from his fellow travelers, upset Mohammed Beg altogether. He was told that if he thought Indian Moslems were lax, he should see the innovations which Mustafa Kamal Ataturk had introduced into Turkey. There religion had been pushed into second place, and nationalism had assumed first importance in the thinking of the people. The Turks had deposed the caliph, and Islam had been so adapted to the conditions of modern life that little more than a shadow of the former religion existed. The people were so changed in their manners, laws and customs, and even dress, that they could not be distinguished from Christians. They were not even allowed to wear the red fez with the black tassel any more. Both in Turkey and Iran the women brazenly appeared in public unveiled. He was told that if he went to Turkey he would not be able to understand the prayers, or the Friday sermon, for both must be said in Turkish rather than in Arabic. Surely the Turks and Iranians had become kafirs (unbelievers), and had forsaken the example and teaching of the Prophet!

It was all very confusing. But what could he, a boy from Central Asia, do about it? In the meantime he was glad that he was moving toward Mecca, the Holy City, the place of pure and unadulterated Islam. How glad he would be to get there! Surely Mecca would bring peace and reassurance concerning these serious questions.

After the ship had passed Aden and had entered the Red Sea, the excitement of the passengers increased. In a short time now they would be in Jidda, and before then they must perform the ceremonies for the last stage of the sacred pilgrimage.

At last the day arrived when the first of the ceremonies for the pilgrimage must be performed. Mohammed Beg and Abdullah, in company with the other hundreds of passengers, very carefully bathed themselves, trimmed their nails, and combed their beards. They then removed their ordinary clothes and put on the ihram, or the pilgrim's sacred robe, consisting of two seamless pieces of cloth. One of these they put around the waist and the other they threw over the shoulders, leaving the head uncovered. In place of their heavy Turki boots they must now wear light sandals, or go barefoot. From now on until the pilgrimage was finished they were not permitted to shave any part of the body, trim the nails, or wear any other garment than the sacred robe of the pilgrim. And now, dressed as pilgrims should be, Mohammed Beg and Abdullah recited with others who had joined them the "songs of the pilgrims":

Here am I for thy service, O Allah, I am ready.
Allah, I purpose to perform the pilgrimage; Make it easy for me, O Allah;
I offer thee my flesh, and my hair, and my blood. I have vowed to abstain from women, and perfume,
and clothes Out of desire to please thee!


As the ship approached its destination the joy of the pilgrims became more intense, and every eye strained to catch the first glimpse of Jidda, the city of Eve, the grandmother (Jidda) of the human race, whose tomb was pointed out on the east side of the city, beyond the Mecca gate. At the first sight of the city, a great shout of thanksgiving went up, in which Mohammed Beg and old Abdullah joined. As the ship approached the harbor through the circling coral reefs, the pilgrims collected their baggage and made ready to land. Soon they would be ashore, on the sacred land of Arabia, the cradle of Islam.

With impatience over the delay, Mohammed Beg and Abdullah passed through the medical and customs formalities, paid their head tax, and started on the last fifty miles to Mecca itself. Since the journey was not great, and could easily be accomplished in four days, they decided to do it on foot in company with some of the other pilgrims, leaving the luxury of travel by camel to others. On the third day, at Zu-Tuwa, they halted and performed the required bath, and as they drew nearer to Mecca they added to their chants this one, which moved them deeply and fully prepared their hearts for entrance into the Holy City:

Allah, this is thy sanctuary, and the place of security; Preserve my flesh and blood from hell-fire.

When they finally arrived in Mecca, Mohammed Beg and Abdullah felt something of the same thrill


IN and sense of religious awe that comes to the Christian visitor to the city of Jerusalem and the Holy Land. They recalled that here in this very city the feet of their beloved prophet Mohammed had trod. When but a young man he had denounced idolatry from the precincts of the Kaaba, the inner sanctuary of the mosque, and had preached his fiery sermons calling people to repent of their sins and follow the worship of the one true god, Allah. From Mecca he had been compelled to fly for safety with his faithful followers, and to this city he later returned in triumph. With his own hands he had forever banished the idols from the Kaaba, and established his authority over the scattered tribes of Arabia.

"How thrilling to be here with fifty thousand Moslem brothers from all over the world!" mused Mohammed Beg. As he thought about how closely all Islam is bound together, the troubled thoughts of the weeks before vanished. He was now quite sure that the religion of the Prophet was capable of taking care of itself, and that all these changes he had been seeing and hearing about were but slight disturbances that would eventually pass away.

Dressed in the usual pilgrim garb and jostling among the milling throngs of brother Moslems from Java, Malaya, Egypt, the Sudan, Iran, India, and even China, they joined in all the rites and ceremonies of the ancient pilgrimage with a glorious ecstasy. Here they felt natural and at home. It was the first time they had known such peace of mind since leaving Kashgar. Here the people were, to the last man, Moslems. No atrocious Western notions could ever undermine the faith of the true believers in this holy place. An unbeliever would never be knowingly admitted to the sacred bounds of the Kaaba. For him to enter would mean death.

On the day appointed for the final ceremonies Mohammed Beg and Abdullah, along with the other pilgrims, performed the necessary ablutions, carefully bathing and purifying their bodies according to the requirements of the Law. Then they entered the sacred mosque, and kissed the famous Black Stone which is set in one of the walls of the Kaaba. This was followed by their running around the shrine seven times—three times rapidly and four times slowly, which is said to be in imitation of the motions of the planets. Then they offered a special prayer, "O Allah, Lord of the Ancient House, free my neck from hell-fire, and preserve me from every evil deed; make me contented with the daily food thou givest me, and bless me in all thou hast granted." Next they proceeded to the "place of Abraham" and offered another prayer. Then they drank water from the sacred well of Zemzem, and again kissed the Black Stone. From here they joined the other pilgrims on the visit to the hills Safa and Marwa and ran from one to the other according to the custom. Then going a few miles beyond Mecca, they visited Mina and later went on to Arafat, where they listened to a sermon. On their return they stopped again at Mina and stoned the three pillars of masonry there with seven small pebbles each. This is because they are said to represent the devil. Finally, while in Mina, they purchased a sheep—at an outrageous price—which they sacrificed as a climax of the pilgrimage.

Through it all Mohammed Beg was filled with a continuous exaltation at being on holy ground. His mind was absorbed with thoughts of the wonderful character and spirit of the Prophet, who had overcome such great opposition and had established the true faith of Allah on the earth. He had one further desire: to go on from Mecca to Medina, a distance of some two hundred and ten miles, and to pay a visit to the tomb of the holy Prophet. He felt that this visit would bring still further blessing, and add strength to his spirit. Thus they went on their way to Medina, and Mohammed Beg felt that in a measure this was the very peak of their pilgrimage experience. He talked with others and found that they felt the same way. There by the side of the tomb of the apostle of Allah they felt that somehow they were in the very living presence of their prophet. For them he seemed to live again; or rather, it was as if his spirit was a living presence inside the tomb. Here they dedicated themselves anew, and pledged their loyalty to Islam. It was the high moment of his life, Mohammed Beg thought, and poor old Abdullah was so overcome with the holy thoughts that filled his breast that he wept freely and unashamed.

And yet even before they had left Mecca and Medina for the return journey Mohammed Beg had been deeply disturbed by another and totally different experience. Ever since they had been in Arabia they had found that the prices charged pilgrims were abnormally high. Little had these two simple people from Central Asia realized that the pilgrimage is the time for the people of Mecca to reap a harvest. Being honest people themselves, these devout visitors expected honest dealings from others. But they were overcharged for lodgings, and for every morsel of food which they ate. They were disgusted with much that they saw, and on one occasion they barely escaped being robbed of all they possessed.

Because of the way in which they had been treated Mohammed Beg and his grandfather were really glad to be on their way home again. But in spite of this unfortunate experience they had the satisfaction of knowing that they had done their duty. They had fulfilled the commandment of the Law. How proudly they answered when they were addressed as "Haji." After all, there was something glorious about walking "in the way of Allah."

Still there was a question in the mind of Mohammed Beg. Could it be that Islam was in danger of being destroyed by foes within as well as without? Were the forces working in Turkey and India to modernize Islam after all any more dangerous to the faith than the unscrupulous characters and lives of many of the so-called Moslems of Mecca? The only answer seemed to be that to the faithful all these things are but signs of the times—signs that the Last Day is not far off, when the whole world will be converted to Islam.

"This," said Mohammed Beg to his grandfather, "must be the explanation of these strange things we have seen and heard and experienced. Surely our prophet was divinely guided, and we cannot go astray if we follow his guidance, come what may."

"Regardless of what others may do," replied the old man, "we shall keep our feet steadily in the way of Allah. For verily, 'there is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his apostle.' Yes, Mohammed is his apostle!"


The thrill of the visit to Mecca and Medina lasts a long, long time in the heart of the pilgrim. Back in his native Kashgar after his arduous journey, Mohammed Beg is a respected haji, although so young. He loves to tell his experiences to the other young men he meets, and he does it with a glow that comes from a kind of holy enthusiasm. To help keep the memories alive he has brought back with him some treasures which he guards carefully and shows with pride to his friends. He has a few of the small pebbles that he picked up at Mina similar to those he threw at the masonry pillar. He has a bottle of holy water from the famous well, Zemzem, in Mecca. But most precious of all is a small quantity of earth—sacred earth—from near the tomb of Mohammed in Medina. It seems to him the most prized thing in his possession for it was in Medina at the Prophet's tomb that he felt an experience of great inspiration.

He cannot forget that experience. Now that he is back in Central Asia, it seems to Mohammed Beg that the Prophet is more wonderful than ever. How could anyone help but believe he was God's apostle, he asked his friends, after one had seen the multitudes from so many countries who gather at Mecca for the pilgrimage? If Mohammed's message had not been true, then how could one account for the fact that today two hundred and fifty million people from Morocco to the Philippines are followers of the Prophet? What more convincing proof of the greatness and divine calling of Mohammed could be found than this enormous number of the faithful in many lands? To Mohammed Beg, the Arabian prophet was the explanation of Islam's greatness.