History · AlMaghrib Journals

A Match Made in Madinah: ‘Ali and Fatima (R.A)

AlMaghrib — Fri, 14 Aug 2026 11:40:04 GMT

Have you ever come across a couple that seemed as though they were made for each other?

Like everything about her complements everything about him?

If ever there was a marriage you could describe that way, it would be between two of the most beloved people to our Prophet ﷺ :

Fatima, his youngest daughter, the key to his heart, and the leader of the women of paradise…

And ‘Ali, the first boy to embrace Islam, the warrior, the Harun of this Ummah.

What makes their love story truly beautiful is not their status in Islam, or any glamour, but in its simplicity, and in how they worked to make their love last.

The Awkward Proposal

It was not long after the Battle of Badr when Fatima رضي الله عنها began to receive proposals.

First came Abu Bakr, then Umar, and to each of them the Prophet ﷺ said no, indicating he had someone in mind for her.

Who could it have been? How special must this suitor for the Prophet’s daughter be that he would turn away his most senior companions?

This was Fatima after all, the closest of all the Prophet’s ﷺ children to him. She resembled him the most in her appearance and her character. She was with him in the most difficult episodes in his life, caring for her father after the loss of Khadijah.

If ever she entered upon a gathering where her father was present, he ﷺ would insist that she take his seat.

‘Ali رضي الله عنه could not have imagined that he would be a worthy prospect, especially as the most senior companions had been refused.

You see, at that time, ‘Ali was incredibly poor, with nothing but an old iron shield to his name.

As a young bachelor, only around 23 years old, ‘Ali was immersed in Jihad, and had little concern for business or wealth at that time.

The idea of the two marrying seemed to be on everyone’s minds but his, but after some encouragement from his relatives, ‘Ali finally mustered the confidence to go to the house of the Prophet ﷺ and ask that daunting question… yet when he arrived, that confidence quickly vanished, and ‘Ali fell silent.

The Messenger ﷺ put him out of his misery: “Perhaps you have come to ask for Fatima’s hand?”

All ʿAli could manage was a nod, and the Prophet ﷺ smiled, asking what ‘Ali had to offer as a dowry… and therein lay ‘Ali’s predicament.

“I own nothing, O Messenger of Allah, except for this shield of mine.” ‘Ali said, so the Prophet told him to sell the shield, and that would suffice for the dowry.

A Simple Wedding

When ‘Ali رضي الله عنه went to the marketplace, he ran into ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan who enquired about the shield. ‘Ali told him that it was not worth more than 4 dirhams, but ‘Uthman رضي الله عنه, knowing the reason for ‘Ali’s business in the marketplace, smiled, and offered him 400 dirhams instead. Elated, ‘Ali agreed to the sale, upon which ‘Uthman handed back the shield, saying it was a wedding gift.

Part of the dowry would buy perfume for the bride, whilst the rest was used to buy household items.

The wedding preparations began, and the Sahaba eagerly jumped at the opportunity to get involved.

A’isha and Umm Salama رضي الله عنها helped to prepare the home for the newlyweds, whilst others went out to purchase items for the house.

The walimah itself was simple, with a meal of only dates, barley, and water, and yet it was one of the happiest days in Madinah, as two of the most beloved people to the Messenger ﷺ began a new life together, and what an incredible life it would be.

Struggles and Smiles

The newlyweds moved into a hut so small it held only a single straw mattress that served as a bed at night, a couch by day, and a feeding‑trough for their animals in the afternoon.

ʿAli found work where he could, which typically involved carrying timber and water until his back ached, while Fatima would work diligently at home, grinding barley until blisters split her palms.

Like all couples, they had their fair share of rough patches, too.

On one occasion, the Prophet ﷺ went to visit his daughter, and when seeing that she was visibly upset, asked, “Where is your uncle’s son?” (meaning ‘Ali). Fatima explained that the two had an argument, after which ‘Ali left to go to the masjid. The Prophet ﷺ later found ‘Ali there, asleep and covered in dirt.

One might imagine that ‘Ali was in for a serious scolding from his father-in-law, but instead, the Prophet ﷺ gently patted the dirt off of ‘Ali’s cloak, jokingly saying, “wake up O Abu Turab (father of dust),” diffusing the situation before sending him home to his wife.

Despite their troubles and struggles, their simple palm tree home would be filled with even more love and laughter.

One morning as ‘Ali found Fatima brushing her teeth, he began reciting poetry to her, teasing at her siwak (tooth stick):

“You have seized her mouth, O branch of the Arak

Were you not afraid that I would see you?

Had you been a warrior, I would have slain you

No one has been able to defeat me, O siwak, except you.”

These candid verses became a classic of Arabic romance poetry, and are just a small glimpse into the passion and affection between these noble spouses.

Entering Parenthood

It was not long after their marriage that their family quickly grew, with the arrival of their first son just a year later.

ʿAli, being the bold and brave mujahid, named him “Harb”, meaning “war”, whereas the Prophet renamed him to Hasan, meaning goodness, and declared, “O Allah, love him and love those who love him.”

The next year, they welcomed their second son, and again, ‘Ali decided to name him “Harb”, but the Prophet once again said, “rather his name is Husayn (Little Hasan).”

‘Ali persisted with the birth of his third son, who the Prophet ﷺ would once again rename Muhsin (Doer of Good).

Whilst many of us know of the first two sons, Muhsin would sadly pass away in his infancy.

Their daughters, Zaynab and Umm Kulthum completed the family unit and would fill the household of the Prophet ﷺ with delight for years to come.

The stories demonstrating the Prophet’s affection for his grandchildren are too many to enumerate, especially with Hasan and Husayn.

The Whispers of Parting

Ten years into the marriage, fever consumed the Prophet, and he ﷺ knew that his final days on this earth were upon him.

As his family surrounded him, he ﷺ called for Fatima to draw closer, whispering something into her ear that caused her to cry intensely.

The Prophet ﷺ called her a second time, whispering into her ear again, but this time causing her to laugh.

It was not until after his passing that Fatima would reveal what he ﷺ had said to her that caused her sadness and her laughter.

The first piece of news was that he would soon die, and the second was that she would be the first of his household to join him.

Sure enough, not six months had passed before Fatima رضي الله عنها would depart from this world.

ʿAlī washed and shrouded her body, weeping intensely, before leading her janaza.

It is said that he would visit her grave after her burial, composing for her a raw and grief-stricken elegy.

He would later say that neither battle nor civil strife hurt him like the twin blows of losing the Messenger and the Radiant One within six short months.

May Allah join us with them.

Dealing with Rejection: Barira and Mugith (R.A)

AlMaghrib — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 10:04:30 GMT

Have you ever felt the pain of unrequited love?

When affection only goes one way, and never the other.

It can sting, but there are lessons in it for those who are mindful.

There’s a short but powerful story from the Sahaba that illustrates exactly this, and it starts with a slave woman named Barira (R.A), who bargained for her freedom from her master.

She was given the opportunity for mukataba, a negotiation where slaves can emancipate themselves for a given price over a certain period of time.

For Barira, that price was 9 silver coins, and with the help of our mother A’isha (R.A), and a lot of back and forth, she was eventually freed.

On top of that, she was granted the wala’, guardianship, of A’isha, and so the two became very close.

Now, in her years of enslavement, Barira wasn’t alone. She had a husband named Mugith, and he was madly in love with her. The kind of love you only hear about in old arab poetry.

The problem was, those feelings were not mutual, and so as soon as she was freed, Barira asked for a divorce, as is the right of a freed slave if their spouse is still not emancipated.

This shattered Mugith’s heart, so much so that it became known throughout the town, but he was determined to not let things end.

So, over the course of her 3 month ‘iddah, Mugith could be seen in the streets behind Barira, weeping, pleading to her to take him back.

This even caught the attention of the Prophet ﷺ himself, as he was sitting with his uncle Al Abbas (R.A) he remarked:

“O `Abbas ! are you not astonished at the love of Mughith for Barira and the hatred of Barira for Mughith?”

Out of compassion and sympathy for Mugith, the Prophet ﷺ went to Barira in the hopes of reconciling between the two.

When he ﷺ asked her to reconsider the annulment and take Mugith back, Barira asked:

“O Messenger of Allah, is this a command?”

The Prophet ﷺ said, “No, rather I am only interceding on his behalf.” To which Barira answered, “I have no need of him.”[Sahih al Bukhari]

So the marriage was annulled, and the two eventually married elsewhere.

Now, many might read this story as a tragedy, and for Mugith, maybe it was for a time.

But for Barira it wasn’t.

The truth is that marriage is not solely about love, for some it’s a matter of practicality, and for many in those times, it was a means for survival and protection.

This story teaches us that reciprocated love is not guaranteed, even in marriage, and that is a test many may face in life.

At the same time, this story demonstrates that divorce is not a failure, despite the stigma around it, sometimes it can be a blessing, and even a necessity.

It also shows us the importance of mediation and reconciling between couples when you know their marriage is on shaky ground, but also acknowledging that sometimes marriage is simply not meant to be.

May Allah be pleased with both Barira and Mugith, and grant all those longing for love and stability happy and fulfilling marriages.

Love Endures: Zaynab bint Muhammad (R.A)

AlMaghrib — Thu, 30 Jul 2026 14:28:00 GMT

The Battle of Badr had just ended, and the Muslims were gathering the spoils of their victory.

One by one, the prisoners from the Quraysh were brought forth to the Prophet ﷺ to be ransomed for their freedom, and among them was a man who presented Allah’s Messenger with something that evoked memories of joy and pain.

It was a necklace, one that belonged to his dear wife Khadijah (R.A).

How did it end up here at the plains of Badr, and who was this man who presented it to the Messenger?

To really complete this scene, we must go back to a time many years before the prophetic mission in Makkah.

A Noble Wedding Gift

The Prophet ﷺ had married his daughter Ruqayyah to her cousin ‘Utbah bin Abi Lahab, his daughter Umm Kulthum to her cousin ‘Utaybah bin Abi Lahab, and his daughter Zaynab to a man named Abul-’Aas ibn al-Rabi’ from the tribe of Banu Abd Manaf of Banu Abd Shams.

When the Prophet ﷺ was given revelation and began preaching in the city, the Quraysh sought to humiliate his family by separating his daughters from their husbands.

Ruqayyah’s marriage to ‘Utbah had not yet been consummated, so he divorced her after Quraysh had requested his father to order him to do so, and sent her back to her father. ‘Utaybah did the same with Umm Kulthum.

As for Abul-’Aas, they said, “Divorce the daughter of Muhammad, and we will marry you to any woman from Quraysh you wish.” Although he was a polytheist at the time, he refused, saying, “Even if you married me to all the daughters of Quraysh, I would not divorce her.”

The Prophet ﷺ migrated to Madinah, and the years passed by.

After the Battle of Badr, the prisoners were brought before him, and begrudgingly, Abul-’Aas was amongst them.

The ransom for the prisoners was arranged, and each prisoner had their relatives from Mecca send money or valuables on their behalf.

When the ransom for Abul-’Aas came, it had been sent by Zaynab (R.A) with her brother-in-law, Abdullah bin al-Rabi’. It included money and the necklace that her mother Khadijah had given her as a gift to wear on the day she married Abul-’Aas.

When the ransom of Abul-’Aas was presented, and the necklace was shown to him, the memory of Khadijah (may Allah be pleased with her) was present with it.

As the Prophet ﷺ looked at the necklace in front of him, he saw the scene of Khadijah adorning her daughter on her wedding day.

It was as if this necklace spoke on behalf of Khadijah; and Zaynab, who sent that necklace on her husband’s behalf, understood this. It sent a clear message of the extent of her love and compassion for her husband.

The Prophet ﷺ was deeply moved, but he had to remain just, and so before making a decision, he turned to his companions, saying, “If you see fit to return her necklace, then do so…”

They said, “Yes, we will do it, O Messenger of Allah…” The necklace was returned to Abul-’Aas bin al-Rabi’, and they agreed to settle for the money alone as his ransom.

However, the Prophet ﷺ stipulated that in return, he must send Zaynab back to him.

The Test of Distance

Abul-’Aas returned to Makkah and prepared his beloved wife to send her back to her father, fulfilling the promise he had made to him.

As Zaynab prepared to leave, she was visited by the most prominent grieving woman in Mecca after Badr, Hind bint ‘Utbah.

Hind had lost her father, ‘Utbah bin al-Rabi’ah, her brother, Shaybah ibn ‘Utbah, and her son, Handhalah bin Abu Sufyan, who had all been killed in the Battle of Badr.

She said, “O daughter of Muhammad, what happens between men does not need to come between us women. I know you are going to your father, so if you have any need, ask me; ask whatever you wish, and do not ask anyone else!”

Zaynab recounted this, saying, “I believe that if I had asked her for anything, she would have given it to me,” meaning that she believed she was sincere.

Zaynab joined her father and stayed with him in Medina for six years.

Despite him having yet to embrace Islam, Zaynab was still deeply in love with Abul-’Aas, and remained a committed wife despite their distance, knowing that he was an honorable and sincere man, and hoping that he would embrace the truth.

A Joyous Reunion

Zaynab’s trust proved to be true as, eventually, Abul-’Aas embraced Islam and migrated to Madinah five months before the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah.

The Prophet ﷺ returned Zaynab to him, and he continued to mention the loyalty of Abul-Aas, both the first and the second times he remained loyal to Zaynab.

The first instance was when Quraysh urged him to divorce Zaynab and he refused, considering her equal to all the women of Quraysh put together. The second was when he gave and fulfilled his promise to send Zaynab back to him after Badr.

The Prophet ﷺ would praise Abul-’Aas amongst the other companions, mentioning him as his son-in-law from Banu ‘Abd Shams, saying: “Whenever he spoke to me, he spoke the truth, and whenever he promised me, he fulfilled his promise.” [Sahih al Bukhari]

What great loyalty to the memory of Khadijah.

Just seeing the necklace brought back such a strong and emotional memory that it was as if she were present, interceding before him.

And how beautiful and honorable was the journey of Abul-’Aas and Zaynab? One that allowed for Abul-’Aas to accept Islam in his own time, whilst preserving the dignity of Zaynab (R.A) and protecting her.

May Allah be pleased with them, reunite them in the hereafter, and allow us to join them and the Prophet ﷺ .

Tested by Love: The Life of Atika bint Zayd (R.A)

AlMaghrib — Fri, 24 Jul 2026 11:38:39 GMT

Her name was Atika, the daughter of Zayd ibn ‘Amr ibn Nufayl. She was known for her immense piety, her masterful poetry, and for her incredible beauty.

His name was ‘Abdullah, the son of Abu Bakr As-Siddiq رضي الله عنه. He was known to be dashing, brave, a devout worshipper, and a courageous warrior in the path of Allah.

The two of them married, and their love became the talk of the city.

It was the kind of romance that you’d think only existed in fiction: they were young, passionate, and completely captivated by one another.

It was a match made in Madinah, they seemed perfect for each other… that was until one fateful day, when Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه ordered his son to divorce his wife.

When love becomes blinding

You might think that these two were perfect for one another, as did many, and Abu Bakr did not see any fault in Atika رضي الله عنها . He knew of her immaculate character and virtue, but it was what he saw in his son that troubled him.

He saw that ‘Abdullah رضي الله عنه was so enamored with his wife, that their love was affecting his relationship with Allah.

His attendance at the masjid was weaker, as was his presence on the battlefield, and whilst we might not find these so alarming, we are not Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه.

There is a reason why he was above and beyond us, because he held himself and his family to a higher standard in their Deen.

So, ‘Abdullah followed his father’s advice, and despite the emotional weight of it all, he divorced Atika. This decision, however, took a major toll on both of them.

It’s said ‘Abdullah could be seen around Madinah reciting melancholic verses, lamenting their lost love.

Having seen the grief it had caused his son, Abu Bakr gave his blessing once again, and the two remarried, paying heed to their relationship with Allah above all.

‘Abdullah returned to the battlefield again, taking part in the battle of Ta’if, where he would thereafter reach martyrdom, returning to his Lord.

Atika was struck with grief, dedicating poetry to her departed husband:

“May my eyes never stop weeping for you,

May my skin never be perfumed again, except by dust.”

Her story does not end there, however.

Love would continue to test Atika, but the mark of her excellence is how she continued to endure.

Daring to love again

One might think that being tested with divorce, remarriage, and ultimately being widowed, Atika رضي الله عنها might have been put off the prospect of marriage altogether, and she was ready to resign herself to a life alone after her ‘ida (mourning period), but the sincere advice from the other companions encouraged her to move forward.

‘Umar ibn al Khattab, Atika’s cousin, advised her, “Do not make haram for yourself what Allah has made halal.”

This gave Atika the resolve to love again, and she would eventually marry Zayd ibn al Khattab, the brother of ‘Umar رضي الله عنه.

Not much is known about the details of their marriage, for Zayd too would reach martyrdom soon after at the battle of Yamamah.

Now widowed twice, Atika’s test of love was bearing down on her, yet she remained patient, and for that, Allah blessed her with a period of peace and clemency.

The Wife of the Caliph

Yes, soon after Atika would marry none other than ‘Umar ibn al Khattab, the second Caliph, the man who the devil himself fled from, and about whom the Prophet ﷺ said:

“Were there to be a prophet after me, it would have been ‘Umar” [Jami’ al Tirmidhi]

Their wedding was an occasion of great joy, visited by many of the senior companions, including A’isha رضي الله عنها , the mother of the believers, and Atika’s sister-in-law once upon a time.

A’isha could not help but tease the blushing bride, reminding her of the lines of poetry she lamented ‘Abdullah with, changing the words to:

“May my eyes find peace after you,

May my skin be perfumed once more.”

Her marriage to ‘Umar brought years of much-needed happiness after the pain she endured, and the two found kindred spirits in one another; both deeply devout and known for their character and austerity.

But as time passed, their marriage too would end in tragedy, as ‘Umar would eventually be martyred whilst leading Salah in the masjid.

The Widow of Martyrs

By this point, a sentiment grew among the people of Madinah:

“If a man wishes to be martyred, let him marry Atika bint Zayd.”

This was not to tease or belittle her, or to spread false superstition, but it was a mark of honor to be the widow of a martyr, and it was for that reason that the most respected companions sought her hand in marriage.

This time it was Zubayr ibn Awwam who, like ‘Umar, was from the famous 10 promised paradise.

But like ‘Umar, and Zayd, and ‘Abdullah before, Zubayr’s destiny was to return to his Lord a martyr at the battle of al Jammal, one of the major tragedies of that event.

It is said that Atika would marry once more, to the beloved grandson of the Prophet ﷺ: Al Husayn.

This time, however, she would not live to see her husband’s martyrdom, as Atika would pass away years before the tragedy of Karbala.

Lessons From The Life of Atika

There are many powerful gems to take away from the saga of Atika. Both in her personal struggles but also in the culture around her.

When we look to the Sahaba, we find a community that did not stigmatise remarriage, and in fact honored their widows and divorcees.

The fact that she had been married before did not deter the greatest of the companions from pursuing her hand, because they were a people who valued piety above all else.

That alone should inspire us collectively today, especially in the face of the marital crises we see in many communities.

But there is something even greater we find in this story, and that is the character of Atika herself.

One might read about her life through a tragic lens, but the story of Atika is one of resilience and hope.

It takes tremendous courage to love after facing intense grief and loss, and shows the tawakkul she had in Allah. Never do we find her asking, “Why me?”

Grief never led to doubt in Allah’s plan for her, and despite the pain and trauma that comes with such harrowing loss, she continued to seek love, trusting in Allah all the while.

For those who have been troubled and tested in the pursuit of love, whether it be rejection, divorce, or even loss, let the example of Atika bint Zayd رضي الله عنها serve as a source of inspiration.

Musa (AS), ‘Ashura, and The Promise of Allah

AlMaghrib — Tue, 23 Jun 2026 12:02:23 GMT

On the 10th of Muharram, a day known as ‘Ashura, Muslims around the world fast in commemoration of a great event.

It is the day Allah ﷻ gave victory to His Prophet, Musa عليه السلام, over the tyrant Pharaoh and his army.

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ fasted this day and told us to fast it. He said:

“Whoever fasts the Day of ‘Ashura, Allah will forgive the sins of the past year.”
(Sahih Muslim)

He also said:

“نَحْنُ أَحَقُّ بِمُوسَى مِنْهُمْ”
“We have more right to Musa than they do.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari)

So he instructed the Ummah to fast and to commemorate this day by offering worship, not through mourning or innovation, but through remembrance and gratitude.

The Story of Musa عليه السلام : A Central Theme of the Quran

There is no story repeated in the Quran more than the story of Musa عليه السلام . His name appears over 130 times. His story is mentioned in Surah Al-Baqarah, Ale-Imran, Al-A’raf, Taha, Ash-Shu’ara, Al-Isra’, Hud, and many others.

Why?

Because the trials of Bani Isra’il and the trials of the Muslim Ummah are deeply similar. Ibn Abbas (RA) said:

“Whatever happened to Bani Isra’il will happen to you.”

He even wondered if members of this Ummah might one day go as far as worshipping the calf, just as Bani Isra’il once did.

The resemblance is real. That’s why we must reflect deeply on the story of Musa عليه السلام . Not just as history, but as guidance.

When the Oppressed Rise and Evil is Defeated

The Day of ‘Ashura is a day when truth triumphed over falsehood, when a nation under brutal oppression was freed by the mercy of Allah. It is a celebration of justice, a day to thank Allah when evil is crushed and righteousness is established.

Generations knew this day. Even the Arabs before Islam honored it. And the Prophet ﷺ restored it to its rightful meaning: a spiritual commemoration, not one of cultural rituals.

This teaches us that the bond of faith is more powerful than any other bond, race, language, tribe, or history. As the Prophet ﷺ said:

“أَنْتُمْ أَحَقُّ بِمُوسَى مِنْهُمْ”
“You are more entitled to Musa than they are.”

We are united with the prophets, even across generations and ethnic lines, because of the bond of Iman.

The Promise of Allah is True

Pharaoh ruled with tyranny. He divided his people and oppressed Bani Isra’il:

“إِنَّ فِرْعَوْنَ عَلَا فِي الْأَرْضِ وَجَعَلَ أَهْلَهَا شِيَعًا يَسْتَضْعِفُ طَائِفَةً مِّنْهُمْ يُذَبِّحُ أَبْنَاءَهُمْ وَيَسْتَحْيِي نِسَاءَهُمْ ۚ إِنَّهُ كَانَ مِنَ الْمُفْسِدِينَ”
“Indeed, Pharaoh exalted himself in the land and made its people into factions, oppressing a sector among them, slaughtering their sons and sparing their women. Indeed, he was of the corrupters.”
(Surah Al-Qasas 28:4)

And yet, Allah ﷻ said:

“وَنُرِيدُ أَن نَّمُنَّ عَلَى الَّذِينَ اسْتُضْعِفُوا فِي الْأَرْضِ…”
“And We intended to favor those who were oppressed in the land and make them leaders and inheritors.”
(Surah Al-Qasas 28:5)

Victory will always come to the believers. Oppression does not last forever. No matter how powerful the tyrant or how dark the night, Allah’s promise is true. He said:

“وَلَيَنصُرَنَّ اللَّهُ مَن يَنصُرُهُ”
“Indeed, Allah will support those who support Him.”
(Surah Al-Hajj 22:40)

Allah’s Plan is Greater Than All Plots

Pharaoh commanded the killing of newborn boys, thinking it would secure his throne, but it was that very decree that brought baby Musa to his palace.

“فَأَتَاهُمُ اللَّهُ مِنْ حَيْثُ لَمْ يَحْتَسِبُوا”
“Then Allah came upon them from where they had not expected.”
(Quran, 59:2)

His wife fell in love with the infant. His upbringing gave him the knowledge of the palace and the empire. And eventually, Musa became the very cause of Pharaoh’s destruction.

Later, Pharaoh summoned his best magicians to defeat Musa publicly. But when they saw the truth, they believed immediately.

“آمَنَّا بِرَبِّ هَارُونَ وَمُوسَى”
“We believe in the Lord of Harun and Musa.”

Pharaoh threatened to crucify them. But they remained firm.

This is the way of Allah. Victory comes from where the tyrants least expect it.

Arrogance Destroys the Soul

Faith is not only in the mind, but it is in the heart. That’s why even with clear signs; the staff turning to a serpent, the sea splitting, Pharaoh still didn’t believe. Arrogance blinded him. Even when he saw Musa walking through dry land between walls of water, he followed and drowned.

“فَكَذَّبَ وَعَصَىٰ ثُمَّ أَدْبَرَ يَسْعَىٰ”
“He denied and disobeyed. Then he turned away, striving [against the truth].”
(Quran, 79:21–22)

Arrogance blinds people from truth, even when it stands tall in front of them like a mountain of water.

Trust in Allah, No Matter What

Musa’s trust in Allah never wavered. When his people panicked at the edge of the sea, he said:

“كَلَّا إِنَّ مَعِيَ رَبِّي سَيَهْدِينِ”
“No! Indeed, with me is my Lord; He will guide me.”
(Quran, 26:62)

And Allah did guide him. This is the kind of tawakkul (trust) we must have. Even when we don’t understand what’s happening, like Musa’s mother being told to cast her son into a river, we trust that Allah’s plan is best.

After Victory Comes the Test

Success is not the end of the test. It’s the beginning of a new one. When Allah gives you wealth, knowledge, family, leadership, He is testing how you will act.

“Today, you may not be a father, but tomorrow you will. Today you may not have money or power, but Allah will give you both, and He will see what you do with it.”

Even in global affairs, like the collapse of regimes or the rise of movements like the Taliban, we are reminded: Allah gives victory to whom He wills, and then observes what they do with it.

Loyalty to Truth Comes First

Pharaoh said to Musa:

“أَلَمْ نُرَبِّكَ فِينَا وَلِيدًا…”
“Did we not raise you among us as a child?”
(Quran, 26:18)

He tried to manipulate Musa with emotional ties. But Musa عليه السلام stayed firm. Our loyalty must be to truth, not to personalities or past favors. We must say the truth even if it’s against those closest to us.

Owning Mistakes, Moving Forward

When Pharaoh accused Musa of killing a man, Musa replied:

“قَالَ فَعَلْتُهَا إِذًا وَأَنَا مِنَ الضَّالِّينَ”
“I did it while I was among the misguided.”
(Quran, 26:20)

He didn’t deny his past. He admitted it and moved forward. That’s a lesson for all of us — don’t let your past imprison you. Learn from it. Grow. Be better. The door of repentance is always open.

Unity, Worship, and the Uniqueness of the Ummah

Musa عليه السلام asked Allah to send his brother, Harun عليه السلام, to help him. This shows us the importance of collaboration, we are stronger together.

Educators, activists, families, we complement one another’s efforts.

‘Ashura also teaches us that acts of worship must be thoughtful and meaningful. Fasting is a noble act. Celebration in Islam is about prayer, fasting, dhikr, not disobedience or partying. The Prophet ﷺ said that Muslims will fast not just one day, but two, to distinguish us from Bani Isra’il.

“لَئِنْ بَقِيتُ إِلَىٰ قَابِلٍ لَأَصُومَنَّ التَّاسِعَ”

He said if he lived until the next year, he would fast the 9th as well as the 10th.

We ask Allah ﷻ to allow these reflections to penetrate our hearts, to change our outlook, and to increase our gratitude. We ask Him to forgive our sins, heal our sick, protect our families and communities, and grant victory to the oppressed everywhere.

His Calligraphy Transformed Islam- Ibn Muqlah

AlMaghrib — Thu, 16 Apr 2026 17:13:48 GMT

Welcome to Stories of The Seekers, a series exploring the incredible lives of our scholars and their sacrifices for the Deen!

If you’ve ever opened a Mushaf, if you’ve ever read the Quran in print, you’ve benefited from the genius of a Persian scholar named Ibn Muqlah. And yet most Muslims have never heard his name.

His story is one of brilliance and tragedy, of a man who revolutionized how we write Arabic and preserve the Quran, only to have his life end in unimaginable suffering. It’s a story worth knowing.

The Man Who Engineered Beauty

Ibn Muqlah Abu Ali—his full name was Muhammad ibn Ali ibn Hussain ibn Muqlah al-Shirazi—was born in Shiraz, Iran in 886 CE (272 AH). He came from a family of calligraphers and artists, learning the craft from his father, Ishaq ibn Ibrahim.

Here’s something remarkable: he wasn’t Arab. He was Persian. And yet he became the greatest calligrapher the Muslim world has ever known. Because the care for the Arabic language was never in history associated with race—it was associated with love and dedication to preserving Allah’s words.

Before Ibn Muqlah’s time, Arabic was written in what we call the Kufi style—very square, very angular. He changed everything. He shifted from squares to curves, creating a flowing, circular style that transformed Islamic calligraphy forever.

He invented two completely new scripts: Thuluth and Naskh. And Naskh is the script used in every Mushaf printed today. Every single one.

But Ibn Muqlah didn’t just invent beautiful handwriting. He engineered it.

There were 24 different styles of Arabic writing in his time. He consolidated them into six standardized forms. Then he did something unprecedented for the fourth century of Islam—he documented everything. He wrote down the exact measurements: how high each letter should rise, how low it should fall, the precise distance from the center of a letter to its beginning, where to start each stroke, what angle to cut the pen.

Every noon (ن) he wrote was identical to the next. Not a millimeter of difference. Just genius, رحمه الله تعالى.

He wrote about different types of ink and their impact on writing. He documented various papers and their qualities. He even wrote detailed instructions on how to sharpen the pen: the exact angle, the precise cut, so that anyone following his methodology could write perfectly.

They called him “Muhandis,” the engineer. Because he engineered the Arabic language.

The great scholar Yaqut al-Hamawi said of him: “He is unique, no one like him in the world. The way he writes, the way he makes signatures—nobody can challenge him, nobody can be compared to him.”

Art That Transcended Politics

During his career, Ibn Muqlah worked for the Abbasid caliphs. His handwriting was so extraordinary that when the caliph needed to write a treaty between the Muslims and the Romans, he chose Ibn Muqlah to pen it.

Now, when you write a treaty, you make two copies—one for each side. Because they didn’t have copy machines.

Ibn Muqlah’s calligraphy was so beautiful, so decorative, that the Romans took their copy and framed it. They hung it in Hagia Sophia—not as a political document, but as a piece of art. For generations, people came to see it. It remained there from the fourth century Hijri all the way until Muhammad al-Fatih ﷺ conquered Constantinople in 1453. That’s from the ninth century to the fifteenth century.

Six centuries. Generation after generation marveling at the beauty of his hand.

The Price of Proximity to Power

Ibn Muqlah’s professional life followed a dramatic trajectory. He started as a simple letter writer with his father, charging people for correspondence. He became known, worked in tax collection in Persia, then was called to Baghdad to work in Al-Diwan, the administrative department where all the caliph’s orders and important letters were written.

Because of his exceptional skill, he was paid six dinars every month. And he caught the eye of powerful people.

Under Caliph Al-Muqtadir Billah, Ibn Muqlah rose to become a minister, a wazir. Very high rank. He held this position for two years before the caliph became angry with him, seized all his wealth, and sent him back to Persia.

But caliphs always need poets and calligraphers, people who can write beautifully. When Al-Qahir became caliph in 320 AH, he heard about Ibn Muqlah and brought him back to Baghdad.

Then the rumors started.

People in the court spread word that Ibn Muqlah was plotting against the caliph with a rebel named Ali ibn Bulaiq. Think about it: the calligrapher knows everything the caliph writes. He has all the secrets, all the orders. He’s inside the palace.

When Ibn Muqlah heard soldiers were coming to arrest him, he ran.

The Fugitive

For nearly two years, this man who had lived in luxury with servants and wealth lived as a fugitive.

He was seen wearing women’s clothes to hide, to escape arrest. He was seen dressed as a Roman, pretending not to be Muslim, just another foreigner passing through the city. He wore beggar’s clothes. Every time they tried to catch him, he would appear in different disguises, moving from place to place, running and hiding.

This went on for almost two years until that caliph died.

The new caliph, Ar-Razi, said: “I know he’s not bad. Tell him he’s safe. Let him come.”

When Ibn Muqlah returned, Ar-Razi gave him more money than anyone else, more position than anyone else. He became number one in front of the caliph.

Obviously, this made many people jealous.

They conspired against him. They told the caliph: “You want to know if he’s clean or not? Send soldiers to bring him to you.”

Then they warned Ibn Muqlah: “You’re going to be arrested.”

So when he saw soldiers coming (remember, he used to be a fugitive), what did he do? He started running.

They captured him.

The caliph said: “Now I know you were right. He only runs because he’s guilty.”

The Unthinkable Punishment

In 324 AH, the caliph threw Ibn Muqlah in prison. He was tortured, lashed on his back.

Then the caliph did the unexpected.

In a moment of rage, he ordered Ibn Muqlah brought before him. He stretched out Ibn Muqlah’s right hand and cut it off.

“I’m going to make sure you never write for anyone again,” he said. “That’s what made you famous?”

He took the severed hand and threw it into the Tigris River.

The doctor who treated him in prison, Hassan ibn Thabit ibn Qura, later recounted: “I used to visit him in jail. He would ask me about his son, and I would tell him his son was doing okay. And he would cry and cry over his hand.

“He would say: ‘This hand that they cut off, I served three caliphs with it. I wrote all their books, all their letters. This hand that they threw in the river wrote the Quran twice. I wrote two full copies of the Quran with my hand.’ He would list all the things his hand had written. Then he would say: ‘In the end, they cut my hand and I look like a thief.'”

Because that’s the punishment for theft in Islamic law: the right hand is cut.

The caliph eventually felt regret. He released Ibn Muqlah from prison and said: “I will appoint you as minister again.”

“I don’t have a hand,” Ibn Muqlah replied.

“I will appoint you as my minister even without a hand.”

Resilience Beyond Measure

Ibn Muqlah began training himself to write with his left hand.

Within a year, they said his left-handed calligraphy became so beautiful, so distinguished. Not as perfect as his right hand, but still extraordinary.

He also tried another method: he would place a pen in what remained of his right arm and tie it with rope, then write like that.

But the same caliph, Ar-Razi, became angry with him again.

“You know what?” the caliph said. “I figured it out. It’s not your hand that’s the problem. It’s your tongue—you talk too much.”

He cut out Ibn Muqlah’s tongue.

Then he put him back in jail, and later released him to his house with a cruel decree: “If anyone helps him, serves him, they will go to jail and be treated the same. I will cut their tongue as well.”

No one was allowed to hire a servant for him. He couldn’t hire help to clean his house. Even his wife and son were forbidden from assisting him, or they would face the same punishment.

One narrator said: “I saw him going to draw water from a well. With his left hand, he would lower the bucket. Then to pull the rope up, he would pull with his hand, then bite the rope with his teeth, then pull again, then bite, then pull until the water came out. Then he would carry it all the way home.”

He became dirty. Nobody could wash him. Nobody could help him. He looked like a beggar.

Poetry of a Broken Man

In his suffering, Ibn Muqlah wrote heartbreaking poetry:

“I did all my best to protect my caliphs and leaders,
But they didn’t care about protecting me.
There is no joy in life after I lost my right hand.
Since my right hand was cut off,
I wish my life would be cut short as well.”

In another poem, he wrote: “I could not regret anything more than being close to these governors and governments. I wish that I never came close to them.”

He had enjoyed that life for a while, a short period of time. But they turned on him, and this is what happened.

Three Journeys, Three Burials

Ibn Muqlah رحمه الله تعالى died in this state of suffering.

He was buried in the house where he died. But it was a rental property, and the owner said: “No, I don’t want a grave in my house.” So they dug him up and buried him in his son’s house.

After his son passed away, they dug him up again and buried him in a cemetery. Some say the caliph ordered it.

It’s remarkable: Ibn Muqlah became wazir three times in his life for three different caliphs. He made three journeys during his lifetime. And he was buried three times.

He also wrote the Quran twice with his own hand—and copies of his work, or work copied from his Mushafs by his students, still exist today. If you search for Ibn Muqlah’s handwriting online, you can see examples. You can see the copy that was in Hagia Sophia during Muhammad al-Fatih’s time.

What We Owe Him

The way we write Arabic today, the way every printed Mushaf appears, the Naskh script that preserves Allah’s words in beauty and precision—this is Ibn Muqlah’s legacy.

He didn’t just create beautiful calligraphy. He created a system, a science, a methodology that would last for over a thousand years and counting.

His life teaches us several things:

Service to Allah outlasts worldly position. Ibn Muqlah served three caliphs who betrayed him, but his service to the Quran—those two copies he wrote by hand, the script he invented—continues to benefit the Ummah today.

Talent and dedication transcend ethnicity. A Persian man became the greatest Arabic calligrapher in history because he loved the language of the Quran.

Proximity to power is dangerous. In his own words, he wished he had never come close to rulers and governments. The glory was temporary; the suffering was real.

Resilience is possible even in unimaginable trials. A man without a right hand, without a tongue, forbidden from receiving help, still found ways to draw water and survive.

And perhaps most importantly: What you do for Allah lasts.

His wealth was seized. His position was stripped. His hand was cut off and thrown in a river. His tongue was taken. He was humiliated, tortured, and forgotten by those he served.

But the Mushaf he helped preserve? The script he invented? The science of calligraphy he systematized?

Still here. Still benefiting millions. Still serving the Book of Allah ﷻ.

That’s the life of Ibn Muqlah رحمه الله تعالى, a man we all owe, a man who deserves to be known.

The Fire That Scorched The Earth

AlMaghrib — Thu, 19 Mar 2026 17:14:02 GMT

Welcome to Ramadans That Changed The World! A series of stories about Ramadan moments that shaped the course of history, and the lessons we can take from them today!

September 3, 1260.

The 25th of Ramadan.

A fasting army, outnumbered and outmatched by every military calculation known to the age, lines up in a narrow valley in Palestine, near a place called Ain Jalut, the Spring of Goliath.

In front of them stands a force that had up until now been unstoppable.

An army that had shattered China, swallowed Persia whole, dissolved the greatest Islamic caliphate in history into dust, and left a trail of ash from the central asian steppe to the gates of Cairo.

These were the Mongols, under the rule of Hulagu, grandson of Genghis Khan.

An army before whom kings fled, cities surrendered without a fight, and generals wept.

The Mamluks were told by their own emirs at the war council that this was suicide. That no one defeats the Mongols. That they should wait. Negotiate. Survive.

Their Sultan looked at them and said: whoever fears death, leave now.

Nobody left.

That moment, on a blazing morning in Ramadan, is where this story ends.

But to understand what it means, you have to understand how the world got there.

The Spark That Lit The Flame

It began, as so many catastrophes do, with a moment of colossal, almost inexplicable arrogance.

The year is 1218.

Genghis Khan, already master of Mongolia and much of China, sends a trade caravan westward toward the Khwarazmian Empire, a powerful Muslim state that ruled much of what is now Iran, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan. The caravan was enormous, around 500 merchants and escorts, laden with silk, gold, silver, and furs. The message it carried was clear: I want trade, not war.

The governor of the border city of Otrar, Inalchuq, accused the merchants of being spies and had every last one of them executed. Then he sold their goods in the markets of Bukhara.

What happened next speaks to Genghis Khan’s character and, in some ways, his code. He did not immediately invade. Instead, he sent three ambassadors, one Muslim and two Mongols, directly to Shah Ala ad-Din Muhammad II, the ruler of the empire, to demand that the governor be handed over and the caravan’s blood be answered for.

The Shah had the Muslim ambassador beheaded. He shaved the beards of the two Mongols, symbols of masculine honor in their culture, and sent them back to Genghis Khan with the severed head as his reply.

Among the Mongols, ambassadors were considered sacred and inviolable. There was no greater insult.

Genghis Khan climbed a mountain, bowed his head to the ground, and wept. Then he said:

“I am the punishment of God. If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.”

He came. With everything he had.

The Punishment That Remade the World

What followed is almost too vast to comprehend.

Genghis did not simply march an army into Khwarezm. He descended upon it from multiple directions simultaneously, dividing his forces in a way his enemies had never seen, striking from angles they could not predict. City after legendary city fell. Samarkand, Bukhara, Merv, Nishapur, one of the greatest cities on earth, home to 150,000 books in ten libraries, razed to nothing.

The Persian historian Juvayni, writing in the aftermath, described cities so thoroughly destroyed that it was impossible to tell where the walls had stood. Population estimates for the region before and after the invasion suggest that tens of millions perished, not only in the fighting but in the famines and diseases that followed. Some historians estimate that Central Asia lost up to three-quarters of its population in the span of a few decades.

The Shah Muhammad II, who had sent back that severed head so arrogantly, spent the last days of his life as a fugitive, hunted across his own crumbling empire until he died alone on a small island in the Caspian Sea, stripped of everything he had once ruled.

Genghis Khan died in 1227, but his empire did not stop. His sons and grandsons carried the fire westward, and when they turned toward the heart of the Muslim world, what they found was already half-broken.

The Night Baghdad Burned

February 13, 1258.

This date is seared into the memory of this ummah the way few others are.

Hulagu Khan, grandson of Genghis, arrived at Baghdad with what was perhaps the largest Mongol army ever assembled, having been given a fifth of the entire empire’s fighting men for the task. His mission was explicit: end the Abbasid Caliphate.

Baghdad was not merely a city. It was the beating heart of Islamic civilization. Since the 8th century it had been the seat of the Abbasid Caliphate, the symbolic center of the Muslim world, a city that at its peak housed over a million souls, home to the legendary Bayt al-Hikmah, the House of Wisdom, whose scholars had translated, preserved, and expanded the knowledge of the ancient world. While Europe was in the depths of its Dark Ages, Baghdad’s streets were lit, its hospitals were staffed, and its astronomers were mapping the stars.

Caliph Al-Musta’sim, the last of the Abbasid line, did none of the things a ruler should do when a force like this appears on the horizon. His advisors convinced him to scale down the army. He hoarded his treasury rather than use it to raise soldiers. He reportedly wept at threats but did not act on them.

Hulagu demanded surrender. The Caliph refused. The siege lasted twelve days. The city’s fortifications were breached within two of them.

What followed was a week of massacre and destruction that contemporaries struggled to put into words. Scholars and historians recorded that the Tigris ran black with the ink of burned books and red with blood. The streets were piled with the dead. The great libraries were destroyed. The House of Wisdom, centuries of accumulated human knowledge, was fed to the Mongol fires.

The Caliph himself, the last successor to a line stretching back five centuries, was executed. According to most accounts, because the Mongols considered it forbidden to spill royal blood on the earth, he was wrapped in a carpet and trampled to death by horses.

Ibn al-Athir رحمه الله, who had already written about what he considered the unbearable calamity of the Crusades, wrote of the Mongols: “Even Antichrist will spare those who follow him, though he will destroy others; these Tatars spared no one.”

The caliphate was over. Five hundred years of institutional continuity, gone in a week.

And the Mongols were not finished.

When the Islamic World Stood at the Edge

Damascus fell in March 1260 without a fight. Aleppo had been sacked before it. Gaza. Nablus. The Mongol forces, under Hulagu’s general Kitbuqa, pressed southward with nothing in their path.

Hulagu himself sent messengers to Cairo, to the ruler of Egypt, the last major Muslim power left standing. The letter was designed to break the will of whoever read it:

“We are the army of God in His land… Surrender yourselves to us before the lid is lifted, at which point you will have cause to regret. Your fortresses will not stop us, the armies that fight us will not benefit, and your supplications against us will not be heard. So receive tidings of humiliation and degradation.”

In response to letters like this, rulers across the region had surrendered. An-Nasir Yusuf, the Ayyubid ruler of Damascus, had fled rather than fight. Most of the Muslim world appeared to be in collective paralysis.

But the man who read this letter was not like the others.

His name was Sayfuddin Qutuz.

The Slave Sultan

To understand Qutuz, you have to know where he came from.

He was born a Khwarazmian prince of Turkic origin, a child of the very world Genghis Khan had annihilated. When the Mongols destroyed the Khwarazmian Empire around 1231, the young boy was captured, separated from everything he had ever known, and sold as a slave. He was taken to Damascus, then to Egypt, where he was purchased by the Mamluk sultan of Cairo.

The Mamluks were a unique institution, slave soldiers trained from boyhood in both Islamic sciences and the art of war. They were purchased as children, raised as warriors, educated as scholars, and often freed to serve as the most elite military caste in the Muslim world. Many of them rose to extraordinary positions of power. Some became sultans.

Qutuz was one of those who rose. Over decades of service, he became the most powerful figure behind the Egyptian throne. When the Mongol threat made clear that the fifteen-year-old boy-sultan on the throne could not lead a defense, Qutuz stepped forward and took it. Not out of ambition alone, but because he understood something that those around him did not.

He had been a boy when the Mongols destroyed his world. He had lost his home, his family, his dignity, his freedom, to this same force now bearing down on Egypt. He knew who they were. He knew what they did.

And he had spent decades waiting.

When his emirs told him at the war council that no one had ever defeated the Mongols, Qutuz stood up and said: “O amirs of the Muslims, you all know the Mongols have destroyed the lands of Islam, killed the men, enslaved the women and children. If you are unwilling to fight them, who will stand against them? You are the remnant of Islam.”

Then he said: “I will go alone and fight them if you will not. And if I die, I die. But I will not surrender this ummah to humiliation.”

The emirs followed him.

When Hulagu’s messengers arrived in Cairo with the demand for surrender, Qutuz did something no ruler in the Mongol advance had done. He had them killed, and their heads displayed on the Bab Zuweila gate of the city.

He had just told the most powerful military machine in the world to come and get it.

The Valley of Goliath

The two forces met on September 3, 1260, in a narrow valley in southeastern Galilee, near a spring in Palestine.

Ain Jalut. The Spring of Goliath.

The name was not coincidental. This was the same valley where, centuries before, a young shepherd boy named Dawud عليه السلام had stepped forward alone to face a warrior giant that an entire army had refused to fight. Now, on the 25th of Ramadan, another Muslim force fasting in the heat of the Palestinian summer was about to reenact something of the same defiance.

Hulagu had returned east with the bulk of his forces after the death of the Great Khan, leaving his general Kitbuqa in command of a reduced but still formidable force of somewhere between 10,000 and 20,000 battle-hardened Mongol veterans who had never tasted defeat.

Qutuz’s strategy was built on knowledge. His general Baybars, who commanded the vanguard, knew this terrain intimately. He had been a fugitive here once, and now he would turn the land itself into a weapon.

The Mamluks concealed the bulk of their forces in the highland hills surrounding the valley and sent Baybars forward with a smaller force to draw the Mongols in. Baybars did what only the best commanders can do under fire: he engaged the Mongols, skirmished, provoked, and then retreated, step by step, pulling Kitbuqa and his cavalry deeper into the valley, deeper into the trap.

At the height of the battle, the Mamluk left wing broke under the Mongol pressure. The line was collapsing.

At that moment, Sultan Qutuz tore off his helmet so every soldier could see his face, charged forward, and cried out three times:

“Wa Islamah! Wa Islamah! Wa Islamah!”

O, Islam. O, Islam. O, Islam.

The cry was not a battle cry. It was a prayer. It was the cry of a man who had nothing left to offer except everything. The cry of someone who understood that what stood or fell in that valley was not just an army, but something far larger.

The soldiers heard it. And something shifted.

The line held. Then it pushed. The hidden forces in the hills poured down. The Mongols were surrounded on three sides. Kitbuqa himself was killed in the fighting. The Mongol force was broken, and what remained was pursued all the way to Baysan, and there, broken again.

For the first time in the memory of a generation, the Mongol advance had not only been stopped. It had been reversed.

What the Ummah Lost Immediately After

Qutuz never made it back to Cairo.

On the way home, at the height of the greatest victory the Muslim world had seen in a generation, a plot was hatched among his own commanders. Baybars and his allies approached the Sultan during a break in the march. Baybars asked to speak with Qutuz privately. When they were close, Baybars struck him down.

The man who had held the ummah together at its darkest moment was killed by his own general before he could reach home.

It is one of the bitter ironies of Islamic history. A man who gave everything for the ummah, denied even the dignity of dying in battle.

But his name and his cry, Wa Islamah, outlived him by centuries. And something he could not have anticipated followed in the decades after.

When The Conquerors Are Conquered

Here is the thing about the Mongols that no one who watched their advance could have predicted.

They destroyed everything… but then Islam absorbed them.

Hulagu Khan, who had sacked Baghdad and extinguished the caliphate, had a grandson named Ghazan. In 1295, Ghazan Khan became the Ilkhan of Persia. The great-great-grandson of the man who had ordered the destruction of the Islamic world took the throne and declared:

There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His Messenger.

He adopted the name Mahmud. He minted coins bearing the shahada. He built mosques and funded scholars. Under his rule and the rules of his successors, the Ilkhanate, the very Mongol state Hulagu had founded over the ruins of Baghdad, became a Muslim state.

And the Golden Horde, the Mongol khanate that had swept across Russia and Eastern Europe, had already converted to Islam a generation earlier, through the efforts of unnamed Muslim merchants who had shared their faith with a prince named Berke Khan while he was hunting near Bukhara. He became Muslim in 1254, even as his cousins were destroying Baghdad. He eventually went to war against his own cousin Hulagu over the massacre of Muslims.

Islam spread not by armies in those lands, but by the same means it always spread best: by ordinary men and women whose faith was visible, genuine, and impossible to ignore.

The Mongols who came as the scourge of God, left as the servants of God’s deen.

Lessons From Ain Jalut

There are lessons layered into this story like sediment, and we could spend a Ramadan unpacking all of them. But let these be the ones that stay with you.

The first: What looks like total destruction is often total transformation in disguise.

The fall of the Abbasid Caliphate was, in purely worldly terms, one of the greatest catastrophes in Islamic history. Nothing was left. The institution that had provided 500 years of continuity to the Muslim world was gone. And yet, Islam did not die. It could not die. Because Islam was never in the Caliph’s palace. It was in the hearts of believers, in the scholars who gathered the scattered manuscripts, in the soldiers who stood at Ain Jalut, in the merchants who sat with Berke Khan near Bukhara and talked about their Lord.

Allah ﷻ reminds us in His Book: “Perhaps you dislike something which is good for you.” [Quran, 2:216]

The destruction of what seemed like an irreplaceable institution created the conditions for something new. Egypt became the new center of the Muslim world. The Mamluks became its guardians. And the Mongols, those unstoppable Mongols, became Muslims.

The second: Even the tyrants of history serve a purpose in the plan of Allah ﷻ.

Genghis Khan called himself the punishment of God. And in a painful, terrible way, he may not have been entirely wrong. The Muslim world he invaded was not the world of the Companions. It was fractured, corrupt, obsessed with internal power struggles. The Abbasid caliph was reportedly pleased when he heard his rival, Khwarizm Shah, was being crushed by the Mongols, because of their personal feud. He was sitting comfortable with his treasury while the walls of the ummah crumbled. Ibn al-Athir himself noted that the scholars of the time believed the invasions were a divine reckoning for the sins of the Muslim world.

We do not say this to excuse the Mongols, nor to diminish the suffering of the innocent. We say it because the Quran itself uses Fir’awn as a lesson, and Namrud as a parable, and makes the destruction of ancient civilizations a reminder for those who think power makes them permanent.

Those who were sent as punishment eventually became part of the family.

The third: Qutuz teaches us that the moment calls for the person, and sometimes the person has to call for the moment.

His emirs did not want to fight. The political calculation of survival was clear: submit, negotiate, survive. Qutuz refused the political calculation and chose the moral one. He stood up in that council and said, in essence: if not us, then who?

That is the question every generation of Muslims eventually has to ask. If not us, then who? If not now, then when?

And it is worth noting: he did this while fasting. The battle was fought on the 25th of Ramadan. These men had been awake for fajr, had made du’a in the pre-dawn darkness, were running on dates and water and the promise of Allah ﷻ. And they broke the back of the greatest military force the world had ever seen.

Ramadan is not a time of retreat. It is not a month of soft voices and closed curtains. It is the month of Badr. The month of Ain Jalut. The month when this ummah has, again and again, found something it did not know it had.

And the fourth: the most powerful da’wah is not the army. It is the ordinary believer.

Berke Khan became Muslim because of merchants. Tughluq Timur Khan became Muslim because of a man named Jamal who called the adhan near the royal compound at fajr. Ordinary believers, unnamed in the history books, changed the fate of empires. Their reward is with Allah ﷻ. Their names may not be in any chronicle, but they are in something better.

You do not need a throne or an army. You need sincerity.

The Mongols swept through the world like a fire that no one could extinguish.

But fire does not destroy what is truly alive. It only reveals what was hollow.

And what was hollow, burned. And what was real, remained.

Islam remained.

The spring at Ain Jalut still flows.

The Long Road to Al Aqsa

AlMaghrib — Sun, 15 Mar 2026 13:30:54 GMT

Welcome to Ramadans That Changed The World! A series of stories about Ramadan moments that shaped the course of history, and the lessons we can take from them today!

July, 1187

Finally, they had them cornered.

Through the scorched hills near the town of Tiberias, towards the Sea of Galilee marched an army, 60,000 strong, the most formidable force assembled by the Crusaders, with the single aim of destroying the Muslim army and their leader, the Kurdish Sultan of Egypt and Damascus, who had been a thorn in the side of their kingdom for years.

This was their moment, here at the horns of Hattin.

The Muslims forces were stationed up against the sea, with nowhere to turn, the army of Guy De Lusignan could not let such an opportunity pass them by… and that’s exactly what the Muslims wanted them to believe.

13 years of battle and yet they hadn’t learned. This was not a rag-tag band of barbarians. This was the army of Salahuddin, and Salahuddin always plays the long game.

This wasn’t an ambush, this was a trap set in motion in the prior Ramadan, and what would follow is one of the most decisive military victories in the history of this ummah, and that would pave the final stone Salahuddin’s long road to Jerusalem.

But it didn’t start here; rather, it began in the darkest hour this ummah had seen in generations, and understanding that darkness is what gives this story its power.

The Ramadan That Changed Everything

The year is 1099.

Pope Urban II “guarantees” paradise to anyone who joins the Crusade to “reclaim the Holy Land.” He has told the people of Europe that Muslims have been persecuting Christians there, which is a lie.

From the time of Umar ibn al-Khattab رضي الله عنه, Muslims, Christians, and Jews had lived in Jerusalem in relative harmony for centuries. None of that matters to the army marching toward it.

As the Crusaders move through the Muslim lands, devastation follows. In a town called Marra, they kill every man, woman, and child. They boast about it in letters home. In 1099, they reach Jerusalem, lay siege for 40 days, and when they finally break through the walls, the massacre is almost beyond description.

The historian Ibn al-Athir رحمه الله records that around 40,000 people were killed in the courtyards of Masjid al-Aqsa alone. He writes that blood ran through the streets up to the knees of men and their horses. What remained of the masjid was turned into a bathroom and a stable for pigs.

The news sent shockwaves through the Ummah, but the reaction?

Silence.

No army mobilized, no king or caliph moved to reclaim the sacred city. The ruling classes were engulfed in their own feuds and schemes at the time.

The first move did not come from a king or general, rather it came from a scholar one fateful Ramadan.

A judge from Damascus named al-Qadhi al-Harawi had witnessed the massacres with his own eyes. He fled to Baghdad, the seat of the Abbasid Caliphate, and arrived during Ramadan. On a Friday, in front of a fasting crowd, he ate. Publicly. To force them to listen.

When the crowd erupted at his audacity, he said: you are upset that I violated the sanctity of this day? What about the sanctity of your brothers and sisters in al-Aqsa?

The Khalifa himself wept at that statement, but again, nothing happened, because by 1099, the Abbasid Caliphate was a hollow symbol.

Real power had splintered across 22 warring city-states, each led by men more interested in their own territory than in the fate of Jerusalem. Some Muslim leaders had even struck agreements with the Crusaders, accepting humiliating terms, putting crosses on their masajid, all to preserve their own grip on power. The historian Ibn al-Jubayr surveyed the Muslim east around this time and wrote that it was as if the Muslims were living in the age of Jahiliyyah.

The fall of Jerusalem was the consequence of a rot that had already been eating the ummah from within for decades.

Division, corruption, love of the dunya over everything else.

The loss of al-Aqsa was a symptom, and regaining it meant to first address the disease.

So, the question then arises: how do you cure the disease?

Planting Seeds You Will Never See Bloom

The revival did not start with an army. It started with a school.

A Seljuk minister named Nizam al-Mulk understood something that many leaders miss: you cannot rule bodies if the hearts inside them are dead.

So he built. Across every major city in Iraq and Sham, he established the Nizamiyyah schools; full campuses with dorms, kitchens, and hospitals, offering free education to anyone who came.

Nizam al-Mulk himself wouldn’t see the extent of this new institution’s impact, as he was soon assassinated in broad daylight by the Hashashin before he saw the fruits of his work. But his legacy outlived his body.

Generations of scholars would be raised through these grand academies, and the crown jewel of them was none other than Imam Abu Hamid al-Ghazali رحمه الله.

Al-Ghazali had reached the top of the academic world. He had dismantled the philosophers. He had refuted the Ismailis. But he noticed something troubling in himself first. He was preaching things he was not sure he was actually living. The scholars were supposed to be the doctors of the hearts, but many of the doctors were sick themselves.

So he did something radical. He walked away from his prestigious post, went to live in obscurity in Sham, and worked as a janitor in a masjid while he wrote Ihya Ulum al-Din one of the most important books in Islamic history. His message was simple: the ummah cannot be revived by correct bodies with dead hearts.

Around the same time, Shaykh Abdul Qadir al-Jilani رحمه الله was bringing the science of tazkiyah to the masses. He spent 50 years in relative silence, ensuring his life matched his words, before he spoke publicly.

Another man named Adi ibn Musafir رحمه الله went further still, as he left the cities entirely and lived among the most marginalized communities, in the mountains, among men considered the outcasts of society. He transformed them. And many of those same men later filled the ranks of the Muslim armies.

None of these men would live to see Jerusalem freed, but all of them were essential to it.

The Bridge Generation

From the scholars came the soldiers.

Imad al-Din al-Zangi رحمه الله inherited a politically reformed landscape and focused on what came next: unity and justice, by force if necessary.

He was hard and strict, but his methods saw results, as his forces gave the Muslims their first major military victory over the Crusaders in over 50 years, and that victory cracked open something that had been sealed shut: hope.

Imad al-Din reignited the Muslim imagination, he showed the Ummah that Al Aqsa was not forever lost, and that the holy land could indeed be liberated…

… and then he was assassinated in his sleep, [yes, there’s a pattern here].

His son, Nuruddin Zangi رحمه الله, is the figure in this story that most people have never heard of, and that is a tragedy.

Ibn al-Athir رحمه الله, a man who witnessed both the fall of Jerusalem and the beginning of the Mongol invasion, who once wrote that he wished his mother had never given him birth because of what he had seen, said this about Nuruddin:

After the Rightly Guided Caliphs and Umar ibn Abd al-Aziz, I have not seen a ruler more just, more devout, or more beloved.

Nuruddin was a scholar before he was a ruler. And that made all the difference.

Where his father’s gatherings were full of helmets, Nuruddin’s were full of turbans. He abolished unjust taxes entirely, replacing them with a culture of voluntary sadaqa encouraged by the scholars. He built over 40 schools in Aleppo and Damascus alone. He banned corruption and alcohol from his military camps. His focus was not just on military strength but on justice rooted in the Sharia of Allah, because he understood, as the Quran says, that no human effort alone can unite hearts. Only Allah does that.

When Nuruddin came to Damascus, he did not have to conquer it. The people opened the gates for him, because they had seen what justice looked like in the lands he already governed, and they wanted it.

Nuruddin then set his eyes south. Egypt, still under the crumbling Fatimid dynasty, was in danger of falling to the Crusaders. He sent his best general, Asaduddin Shirkuh, with orders to secure it.

Shirkuh brought with him his reluctant young nephew, a 20-something who was perfectly content with life in Damascus and wanted nothing to do with war.

His name was Yusuf ibn Ayyub, and the world would come to know him as Salahuddin.

The Man Himself

The Fatimids, after Shirkuh died suddenly, looked at this young man of 29 and thought: he is the weakest option. We can control him.

So they made him wazir of Egypt, and that was the greatest miscalculation in their history, because again, Salahuddin always plays the long game.

Salahuddin’s defining quality was not military genius, though he had that. It was not political shrewdness, though he had that too. It was compassion. His advisors reportedly hid his money from him because every time he saw someone in need, he would give. When he liberated Jerusalem and the wealthy paid ransoms to leave while the poor could not, Salahuddin paid the ransom for approximately 20,000 people himself.

He was also patient in a way that is almost difficult to comprehend.

When Nuruddin pressed him to move toward al-Aqsa, Salahuddin said “we are not ready,” and he was right. What he had inherited in Egypt was catastrophe. Two hundred years of Ismaili rule had left the country in ideological, economic, and social ruin. People were so poor they were eating cats and dogs, and the Ismaili’s were mainly concerned with propagating their deviant theology.

So Salahuddin spent a decade rebuilding Egypt before he ever marched toward Jerusalem.

He turned the Fatimids’ largest prison into a school. He transformed al-Azhar, then the primary college of Ismaili heresy, into a bastion of Sunni scholarship standing to this day. He built a navy from nothing. He strengthened every coastal city, thinking not just about taking Jerusalem but about the European counter-attack that would inevitably follow. He disbanded and rebuilt the Egyptian army. He even launched a program where dedicated teachers would walk blind community members from their homes to the masjid to learn Quran recitation. His own sister trained as a pharmacist and distributed medicine for free.

He rebuilt the rituals of Egyptian society around the Quran, replacing the habits the Ismailis had ingrained over two centuries. Many scholars believe this is the origin of Egypt’s famous culture of Quran recitation that endures even now.

Only when Egypt was strong, unified, and spiritually rooted did Salahuddin turn north.

Return to Hattin

Which brings us back to that July morning in 1187.

The Crusaders’ downfall at Hattin was not an accident. Salahuddin had studied them. He knew how they thought. He knew that if he threatened Tiberias, the Crusader leadership would feel obligated to march out and relieve it, even in the brutal summer heat, even if it meant crossing waterless terrain.

He sent cavalry to harass them constantly as they marched, preventing rest, draining morale, and he had ensured that every water source along their route was cut off.

By the time the Crusaders arrived near Hattin, they were delirious with thirst. Their horses were dying. Their army of 60,000 was already broken in spirit before the battle even began. Salahuddin then split them, allowing the strongest portion to push toward water while cutting them off from the rest of the army.

The battle was, in truth, already over.

The Muslims made quick work of their counter attack, and soon enough the last tent of the Crusader camp collapsed, and Salahuddin fell into sajdah out of gratitude to Allah.

The aftermath was mercy, as captured leaders were treated with honor, and within months, on the 27th of Rajab, Salahuddin entered Jerusalem.

What Salahuddin Left Behind

When Salahuddin was dying, he gave his son a final wasiyya. Given everything he had sacrificed — ten years without sleeping in his own bed, decades on the battlefield, the weight of an ummah on his shoulders — you might expect his last words to be about strategy. About holding Jerusalem. About power.

He said: Have taqwa of Allah. Protect the hearts of people. Be careful of what lies between you and people, for it will not be forgiven except by them. As for what lies between you and Allah, He is the Most Forgiving.

The key to everything, even at the end, was the heart and its connection to Allah.

Ibn Shaddad closes his biography of Salahuddin with words for us to ponder over:

Their long years now seem like a few moments. Their endless struggles feel like a dream that passed in the blink of an eye. Their hardship ended, but their reward and their remembrance never will.

Lessons from 88 Years of Hardship

We may not see the liberation we are working toward in our lifetime, but neither did Nizam al-Mulk, neither did Nuruddin, neither did al-Qadhi al-Harawi, who ate publicly in Ramadan just to make people listen.

What we do, in our homes, our masajid, our communities, will either contribute to the revival of this ummah or delay it.

We may not be the generation that gains all the glory, praise, and adoration, but we can be the bridge generation, the generation that may not enjoy the fruits of their efforts in this life, but will enjoy endless reward in the next, in sha Allah, for the seeds of change they planted.

The ball is in our court, and so if you want this Ramadan to change your world, start planting those seeds today.

As Ibn Shaddad said: Their hardship ended. Their reward never will.

The Battle of Truth & Falsehood

AlMaghrib — Thu, 05 Mar 2026 20:20:36 GMT

Welcome to Ramadans That Changed The World! A series of stories about Ramadan moments that shaped the course of history, and the lessons we can take from them today!

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

The plan was simple:

Intercept the Makkan caravan and take back what’s rightfully ours.

It had been two years since the Hijra, when the Muslims were driven out of the city they knew and loved, and all their wealth had been unjustly usurped by the Quraysh.

Now, with the permission of Allah and His prophet ﷺ, they were finally taking it back, and while in times of peace, raiding caravans would be forbidden, this was war.

So, on the 17th of Ramadan, 313 had set out, with the Messenger himself ﷺ at the head of it all, lightly armed and with a couple of horses between them. This should have been more than enough to send the message across.

But what they met out on the barren plains was not a caravan, but an army, 1000 strong, with 200 mounted, armed to the teeth.

As it turned out, word had reached Abu Sufyan about the raid within enough time for him to divert his caravan, but that alone wasn’t enough for him. This was more than some potentially lost goods, this was the pride of the Quraysh being put on the line.

How dare these Muslims threaten our trade route? Who do they think they are?

Enraged, the chiefs of Makkah gathered and mobilized, and to ensure there was no turning back, Shaytan himself appeared, taking the form of one of their neighboring chiefs, and assuring them:

وَإِذْ زَيَّنَ لَهُمُ ٱلشَّيْطَـٰنُ أَعْمَـٰلَهُمْ وَقَالَ لَا غَالِبَ لَكُمُ ٱلْيَوْمَ مِنَ ٱلنَّاسِ وَإِنِّى جَارٌۭ لَّكُمْ ۖ

“Satan made their foul deeds seem fair to them, and said, ‘No one will conquer you today, for I will be right beside you’…”

[Quran, 8:48]

But in the end, even Shaytan saw what those two parties did not, and when the hour came, even he fled:

لَّكُمْ ۖ فَلَمَّا تَرَآءَتِ ٱلْفِئَتَانِ نَكَصَ عَلَىٰ عَقِبَيْهِ وَقَالَ إِنِّى بَرِىٓءٌۭ مِّنكُمْ إِنِّىٓ أَرَىٰ مَا لَا تَرَوْنَ إِنِّىٓ أَخَافُ ٱللَّهَ ۚ وَٱللَّهُ شَدِيدُ ٱلْعِقَابِ…

“…but when the armies came within sight of one another, he turned on his heels, saying, ‘This is where I leave you: I see what you do not, and I fear God- God is severe in His punishment.”

[Quran, 8:48]

The Muslims set out with a plan, the Quraysh set out with another, but above all others, Allah’s plan is always supreme.

وَإِذْ يَعِدُكُمُ ٱللَّهُ إِحْدَى ٱلطَّآئِفَتَيْنِ أَنَّهَا لَكُمْ وَتَوَدُّونَ أَنَّ غَيْرَ ذَاتِ ٱلشَّوْكَةِ تَكُونُ لَكُمْ وَيُرِيدُ ٱللَّهُ أَن يُحِقَّ ٱلْحَقَّ بِكَلِمَـٰتِهِۦ وَيَقْطَعَ دَابِرَ ٱلْكَـٰفِرِينَ ٧

لِيُحِقَّ ٱلْحَقَّ وَيُبْطِلَ ٱلْبَـٰطِلَ وَلَوْ كَرِهَ ٱلْمُجْرِمُونَ ٨

“Remember how God promised you [believers] that one of the two enemy groups would fall to you: you wanted the unarmed group to be yours, but it was God’s will to establish the truth according to His Word and to finish off the disbelievers; to prove the Truth to be true, and the false to be false, much as the guilty might dislike it.” [Quran, 8:8-9]

This wasn’t going to be a raid or skirmish, nor was it going to be the surprise attack that would destroy the believers.

This was the day that would forever change the course of history.

This was truth establishing itself by Divine right, and falsehood would be uprooted.

This was The Battle of Badr.

The Night Before The Battle

The question then came, whose fight was this?

The Ansar, the Muslims of Madinah, had vowed at the second pledge of Aqabah to defend the Prophet ﷺ as they would defend their own wives and children.

But the pledge was specifically within Madinah. Badr was outside the city. It didn’t ‘technically’ apply.

The Prophet ﷺ could have ordered them. If he had ordered, they would have obeyed. But that wasn’t his way. Instead, he stood among the companions and asked for shura, for consultation.

The Muhajireen, those who migrated from Makkah, kept standing up and pledging their support, but the Prophet ﷺ was clearly waiting for the Ansar.

Sa’d ibn Mu’adh رضي الله عنه read the room.

He stood and said: “By Allah, it seems as if you’re directing this at us, O Messenger of Allah.” The Prophet ﷺ said: “Yes.”

And Sa’d answered with words that lit up the face of Rasulullah ﷺ:

“We believe in you. We have testified to what you brought. We have given you our covenants. So go forward, O Messenger of Allah, wherever you wish, we are with you. By Allah, if you walked us into the sea, not a single one of us would stay behind. We do not dislike that you bring us face-to-face with our enemy tomorrow. Perhaps Allah will show you from us what will please your eyes.”

And with that, night came, and the Sahaba took to their tents, for the day ahead would be arduous.

On a night you might imagine would be full of restlessness and anxiety, the Companions slept, and slept deeply at that, with tranquility that Allah cast upon their hearts. All the while it rained heavily, settling the sand beneath their feet.

The Day of Badr

As the great battle drew near, the Prophet ﷺ turned to the qibla, with his hands raised so high that his shawl kept slipping from his shoulders, pleading to his Lord:

“”O Allah, accomplish for me what You have promised me. O Allah, bring about what You have promised me. O Allah, if this small band of Muslims is destroyed, You will not be worshipped on this earth.”

Rasulullah ﷺ repeated this over and over, not from a place of doubt in Allah’s promise, but from a place of humility. He ﷺ was worshipping his Lord as a slave should; humbly, vulnerably, recognizing the gravity of his circumstances, and recognizing the only One who can give him victory. This is the etiquette of dua.

The Prophet ﷺ understood his circumstances; he understood what it meant to head into action without means, so he turned to his Lord with everything he had, because there is no other recourse.

Some of the Sahaba watched as Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه ran forward, draping the shawl back over the Messenger ﷺ each time it fell, saying:

“At peace, O Messenger of Allah. Allah will fulfill His promise to you.”

The same prophet who assured his companion during the Hijra, ‘Do not worry, Allah is with us,’ now receiving that same reassurance ahead of the battle of all battles.

The battle soon opened, as was the custom, with a duel.

Three of the Quraysh stepped out and called for worthy opponents from among the Muhajireen, and three answered:

Hamza ibn Abd al-Muttalib, uncle of Rasulullah ﷺ . The Lion of Allah and His Messenger.

Ali ibn Abi Talib, cousin and now son-in-law to the Prophet ﷺ . The warrior who would go on to become the fourth khalifa in Islam.

Ubaydah ibn al-Harith, one who is not widely mentioned in the seerah, but who would on this day reach a legendary status.

Hamza رضي الله عنه struck down his foe, Utbah ibn Rabi’ah. Ali رضي الله عنه vanquished al-Walid ibn Utbah, but Ubaydah and his adversary, Shaybah ibn Rabi’ah, wounded each other gravely, and Ubaydah رضي الله عنه would be the first martyr of Badr as a result.

Thereafter, the battle was in full swing.

Swords clashed, blood spilled, dust filled the air, and one by one the vilest of the enemies of Islam met their end, chief among them Abu Jahl, who was the primary target of many.

Prior to the battle, two Ansari boys, both named Mu’adh, stood beside Abd al-Rahman ibn Awf رضي الله عنه on the battlefield. Separately, without the other knowing, each one whispered to him:

“Uncle, point out Abu Jahl to me. I heard he used to harm the Prophet ﷺ. I want to be the one to kill him today.”

These were young men, just in their teens, but their ambitions were lofty. Their goal wasn’t to survive, it was to give the most to Allah ﷻ that they possibly could. Abd al-Rahman ibn Awf’s worry about having young fighters beside him disappeared instantly.

He pointed Abu Jahl out, the most defended man on the field, surrounded by Qurayshi warriors, in the thickest of the fighting, and without hesitation, both boys charged straight towards him.

Both boys struck him down together, and returned to the Prophet ﷺ cut, bloodied, but equally excited, both claiming to have killed him. When Ibn Mas’ud went to examine, he found Abu Jahl breathing his last breath, smuggly remarking, “Can there be a man more superior to one whom his own folk have killed?”

The Angels of Badr

The battle raged on, and as it did, something remarkable happened.

Amidst the dust clouds, the sound of cracking whips thundered through the air.

Enemy soldiers fell with burned lacerations searing their flesh.

A sound akin to raging stallions followed, with invisible riders commanding them, one shouting:

“Charge ahead, Hayzum!”

A brigade of angels entered the battle, 1000 strong, as Allah commemorates in His book:

إِذْ تَسْتَغِيثُونَ رَبَّكُمْ فَٱسْتَجَابَ لَكُمْ أَنِّى مُمِدُّكُم بِأَلْفٍۢ مِّنَ ٱلْمَلَـٰٓئِكَةِ مُرْدِفِينَ

“When you begged your Lord for help, He answered you, ‘I will reinforce you with a thousand angels in succession.”

[Quran, 8:9]

The battle was over within a few hours. The Quraysh turned their backs and fled like Iblis before them, and Umar رضي الله عنه remembered a verse that had been revealed back in Makkah, which puzzled him at the time:

سَيُهْزَمُ الْجَمْعُ وَيُوَلُّونَ الدُّبُرَ

“Their forces will be routed and they will turn tail and flee.”

[Quran, 54:45]

Standing at Badr, watching the Quraysh flee, he finally understood.

The chiefs of Quraysh had been wiped out, many of their nobles were taken as prisoners of war, and the people of Makkah were beside themselves.

These were the same Muslims they had oppressed so brutally just two years ago.

This was the same Ibn Mas’ud who was beaten in front of the Ka’ba now standing over the corpse of Abu Jahl.

This was the same Bilal who was tortured with boiling stones under the blazing sun, now smiting his former master, Umayyah ibn Khalaf.

This was the same Muhammad ibn ‘Abdillah ﷺ , whose family had been driven into ghettos, now standing at the head of an army. The Messenger ﷺ , showing mankind now and forever that the promise of Allah is true.

That day was more than a battle in the empty desert.

It was a message that would rock the whole of Arabia, telling them of a new nation that was brewing, and a wave that would echo throughout the peninsula, and the world soon thereafter. A nation whose loyalty did not reside with any idol, but with the One true God. A people not bound by tribe, wealth, or by lineage, but by the brotherhood of faith and by the mutual aspiration of piety.

This truly was a day that truth prevailed over falsehood, and it unfolded one fateful Ramadan.

The lessons we can take from Badr are too many to enumerate, but one for us all to reflect on is this:

It’s not enough to simply ask for miracles; you have to put in the effort.

The Muslims came to Badr unprepared. The Prophet ﷺ knew it. That’s why he made dua with such urgency. Muslims cannot simply expect miracles without putting in the effort. At Badr, Allah ﷻ supplied the miracle, the angels, but the companions still showed up, still lined up, still charged.

The cause was still there, even if incomplete.

All of us seek miraculous change in Ramadan; it could be in our finances, our family life and relationships, for our parents, children, spouses, and so on…

But how many of us are making an effort to enact that change?

If you want a miracle this Ramadan, you have to pair your dua with action.

A Man, an Angel, and a Word From Allah

AlMaghrib — Wed, 25 Feb 2026 13:20:42 GMT

Welcome to Ramadans That Changed The World! A series of stories about Ramadan moments that shaped the course of history, and the lessons we can take from them today!

Words carry a lot of power.

They can make or break your day, they can bring hearts together or tear them apart.

They can inspire, motivate, and drive you to fulfill your greatest ambitions.

A single word can rock the entire world, and many Ramadans ago… it did.

So when we talk about Ramadans that changed the world, it’s only fitting that we begin with the word that would echo throughout all of time.

In the dead of night, on a lonely mountain, under the vast expanse of the heavens, at a distance overlooking the holy city of Makkah.

The place we now call the cave of Hira on Jabal al Nur was not what we see it as today. There was no village at its base, no well-trodden path, no tourists visiting from every which way.

It was quiet, unspectacular, the place you would go just to get away from the hustle and bustle of life, and indeed that was the purpose it served back then.

Muhammad ibn Abdillah, whose name today we do not utter without the salutation ﷺ , a shepherd turned merchant and family man, found sanctuary up in this small cave overlooking the city he called home.

It offered him the peace he needed to reflect and seek answers that neither his wife, his friends, nor his community could offer, but could only be found through God.

You see, he ﷺ was dissatisfied with the state of his society. In a city steeped in idolatry and hedonism, he ﷺ was the exception. Where people worshipped many gods, he recognised The One and only, where corruption was rampant, he stood out as As Sadiq and Al Amin; the truthful and upright.

Troubled by questions of his purpose, his place in the world, why wickedness and pagan superstitions surrounded him, he would retreat to his mountain sanctuary for days, even weeks at a time, with the occasional company of his dear wife and closest confidant, Khadijah, who would make the same arduous journey to bring him food and supplies.

With the strange occurrences over the past few months, seclusion became a more frequent part of his life.

He was often visited by dreams that would manifest soon after, rocks and inanimate objects would greet him in his day-to-day.

Now more than ever, he needed his time alone with his Lord…

…so it came as quite the surprise when an unexpected visitor made an appearance on a fateful Ramadan night.

That dark and claustrophobic cave suddenly grew bright and expansive, and at its mouth appeared a man. Inexplicably, abruptly, and without introduction, he approached Muhammad, grabbing him tightly, as if to affirm this was no apparition, this was no phantom, this was real.

The man spoke, “read”.

Muhammad ﷺ responded, “I cannot read.”

The man squeezed him and repeated, “read.”

Breathless, almost suffocating, Muhammad responded again. “I cannot read.”

A third time the man ordered him to read, and Muhammad ﷺ relented, “What do you want me to read?”

The man then proceeded to recite:

اقْرَأْ بِاسْمِ رَبِّكَ الَّذِي خَلَقَ ۝ خَلَقَ الْإِنسَانَ مِنْ عَلَقٍ ۝ اقْرَأْ وَرَبُّكَ الْأَكْرَمُ ۝ الَّذِي عَلَّمَ بِالْقَلَمِ ۝ عَلَّمَ الْإِنسَانَ مَا لَمْ يَعْلَمْ
“Read in the name of your Lord who created. He created man from a clinging substance. Read, and your Lord is the Most Generous. He who taught by the pen. He taught man that which he knew not.”

(Quran, 96:1–5).

Upon his visitor’s exit, Muhammad ﷺ fled his sanctuary, hastily, in the dead of night, with no paved road or pathway to ease his journey home.

He arrived hastily at his family home, rushing to the tender and reassuring embrace of his dear Khadijah, saying breathlessly, “Cover me, cover me!”, and after some time to gather himself, he relayed what had transpired earlier that night.

Khadijah reassured her beloved, “Allah would not disgrace you. By Allah, you keep good relations with kith and kin, you are truthful, you help the downtrodden, are generous with your guests, and take care of those afflicted with difficulty.”

Following her words of reassurance, Khadijah suggested that he ﷺ speak to her cousin, the monk Waraqah bin Noufel, who, upon hearing the entire ordeal, affirmed:

”This is the same angel who was sent to Musa. How I wish I were young so that I might support you when your people drive you out!”

Drive him out? His own people? From his own town?

This was Muhammad ibn Abdillah ﷺ, the most upstanding and respected man in Makkah. The grandson of Abdul Muttalib, and from Banu Hashim, the most elite clan of the Quraysh.

Family and lineage were everything in that society, and the thought that a noble could be exiled so readily was unimaginable.

But Waraqah added:

“No one ever brought a message like this to their people except that they met him with hostility.”

Waraqah would not live long thereafter and would not witness the realization of that statement, when Muhammad ﷺ, who in that night became a prophet, would fulfil his role as the final messenger of Allah, and a mercy to all the worlds.

That world-changing mission began with one word:

اقْرَأْ, Read.

The first command Allah gave to the Prophet ﷺ was not pray, not unite your people, not free the slaves, but to read, to seek divine knowledge and guidance.

Because that is where everything begins.

There is no worship without knowledge, there is no personal or social reform without knowledge, there is no unity without knowledge.

There is a lesson in that for us all:

If you want your world to change this Ramadan, you have to start with divine knowledge.

May Allah grant us knowledge that benefits and transforms us this Ramadan and beyond.

Her Mahr Raised Scholars- The Story of Fatima al Samarqandiyya

AlMaghrib — Wed, 28 Jan 2026 11:51:29 GMT

Welcome to Stories of The Seekers, a series exploring the incredible lives of our scholars and their sacrifices for the Deen!

People ask for all sorts of things as mahr; cash, gold, jewellery etc.

But this is the story of a dowry that has impacted generations of Muslims, and it starts with a woman named Fatima al Samarqandiyya.

Born in the year 500 After Hijra (1106 CE), she was a great scholar, the daughter of another great scholar of the city of Samarkand (modern-day Uzbekistan), and she was known for her brilliant mind, beauty, and piety.

In those days, Samarkand was a bustling centre of knowledge. Situated right along the Silk Road, it was a place where not only merchants, but scholars would meet, connect, and exchange ideas.

Her father, Muhammad ibn Ahmad al Samarqandi, was a renowned scholar in the Hanafi madhab, and the author of the book Tuhfat al Fuqaha, a manual in fiqh which many used to teach at the time.

Fatima was nurtured under her father’s tutelage before growing into a promising jurist in her own right.

Many men sought Fatima’s hand in marriage, including princes and noblemen, and all were rejected until…

‘Ala al Din al Kasani, a student of her father, made his proposal.

He presented Fatima with a commentary on her father’s work.

Al Kasani’s commentary impressed al Samarqandiyya and her father so much that it was accepted as her mahr (bridal gift) and the two of them married thereafter.

That book, Bada’i al Sana’i, became a classical text in the Hanafi school, one that has educated generations of students.

Imagine the reward this scholarly couple is receiving every time this book is opened!

Knowledge is one of the ongoing deeds that the Prophet ﷺ told us about in the famous hadith:

“When a man dies, his deeds come to an end except for three things: Sadaqah Jariyah (ceaseless charity); a knowledge which is beneficial, or a virtuous descendant who prays for him.”

[Sahih Muslim]

Fatima al Samarqandiyya would spend her later years in the city of Aleppo, where he was held in high esteem as a leading jurist, and even became an advisor to none other than Nur al Din Zengi; the ruler of Syria and the mentor of Salahadin Ayyubi!

May Allah reward Fatima al Samarqandiyya, make her a continuous source of inspiration for our sisters seeking knowledge today, and grant us all ceaseless deeds that continue beyond our deaths.

When Death Breathes Life- The Story of Malik ibn Dinar

AlMaghrib — Fri, 23 Jan 2026 15:41:27 GMT

Welcome to Stories of The Seekers, a series exploring the incredible lives of our scholars and their sacrifices for the Deen!

Have you ever felt as though your life was completely over?

Devastated, broken, with no idea what tomorrow holds?

What if that moment of sheer heartbreak wasn’t the end, but the beginning of a whole new life?

This is a story of how our greatest tragedies can become moments of transformation.

It starts with a man who lived not long after the Prophet ﷺ and the 4 khalifas.

In the city of Kufa, at a time of great expansions and conquests, there lived an officer of the state with a severe drinking problem.

He was nobody’s idea of a devout Muslim, but he was a proud father to a baby girl.

By Allah’s qadr, however, that baby returned to her Lord whilst still a toddler.

Her death weighed heavily on her father’s heart, and sent him spiralling deeper into drunkenness, until one night, when he went to sleep without praying, and he had a terrible dream.

He was being chased by a giant serpent on the day of Judgment, desperately crying out for help,

He came to the edge of a cliff, wanting to leap from it, but found beneath it a raging fire,

So he continued to run, and in his peril, he came to a frail, elderly man in white, begging for his aid.

The elder said he was too weak to help; however, he pointed him towards a serene hill, and so the man ran there and eventually found himself in the company of young children.

He wandered amidst the sea of souls until he saw a face that brought him relief in all his panic and confusion.

He found his daughter, that baby girl who meant the world to him, and more.

The toddler motioned towards the snake behind him, which suddenly vanished, before running into her father’s embrace, and in this sweet reunion, looked up to him and recited to him the verse from Surah al Hadid:

“Has the time not yet come for believers’ hearts to be humbled at the remembrance of Allah and what has been revealed of the truth…”

[Quran, 57:16]

Now there’s more to this incident, but as the man eventually woke from his dream, this ayah, and the experience around it stirred something within him.

From that day, he abandoned his alcoholism and devoted himself to worship and the pursuit of knowledge.

He studied under the greatest scholars of his era, including Anas bin Malik (R.A) the noble companion of our Prophet ﷺ .

Eventually, that man who was once known as a brutish and compulsive drunk became one of the most celebrated and renowned scholars and ascetics of the Tabi’een.

His name was Malik ibn Dinar, one of the great sages of this Ummah, and his story became the stuff of legend.

He was known for his deep devotion to Allah, his da’wah, and his humble lifestyle.

On one famous occasion, Ibn Dinar was in his home late at night, immersed in dhikr, when suddenly, a burglar entered his home.

Ibn Dinar sat quietly, observing the thief, who could not find anything in this barren, empty home, so he called out to him.

“You could not find something of this world here, so can I share with you something of the hereafter instead?”

The thief was startled, embarrassed, and unsure of how to respond, but he accepted, and Ibn Dinar told him to make wudhu.

The two prayed Qiyam al Layl together, before heading to the masjid for Salat al Fajr.

When a friend of Ibn Dinar asked who this guest was, he responded:

“He came looking to take something from me, but instead I took something from him.” He said, referring to the man’s sinful past.

A testament to his character, being someone who himself was once in the pit of despair, Ibn Dinar was someone who saw hope and potential in other lost souls.

It’s said that he took his da’wah far and wide, eventually following the Muslim army to India, where he would continue to preach, and where many believe he is buried today.

An incredible new life, born out of death and tragedy.

Death has a way of softening the heart, so long as you respond to it the correct way. The Prophet ﷺ encouraged us to reflect upon it for that exact reason:

“I had prohibited you from visiting graves, but you may visit them now. Verily, they will weaken your attachment to the world and remind you of the Hereafter.”

[Ibn Majah]

And in another narration, death is described by him ﷺ as the destroyer of pleasures. It reminds us of the temporal nature of our worldly life, and when met with that contemplation, it can motivate us to live with a greater purpose.

Ibn Dinar could have simply dismissed the dream of his deceased daughter as part of his grief, but instead, he chose to look past his grief, reflect, and take meaningful action to abandon his vices.

If there are sins in your life that you feel are hardening your heart, remember often the destroyer of pleasures, and if you are ever overwhelmed by moments of grief or loss, use those as your gateway back to Allah.

“His Breath Was Like Perfume”- The Story of Nafi’ & His Students

AlMaghrib — Wed, 14 Jan 2026 12:33:32 GMT

Welcome to Stories of The Seekers, a series exploring the incredible lives of our scholars and their sacrifices for the Deen!

You’ve probably heard about the famous 10 styles of the Quran; the different ways of reciting it, with variations in how certain words and verses are pronounced etc.

Maybe you’ve even heard some of the names of these styles, and wondered where they came from; Hafs, Shu’bah, Warsh, Qaloon, Khalaf etc.

The recitation of the Quran is a science unto itself, but how much do you know about the scholars who codified this science?

Who were these giants gaining the reward of practically every Muslim reciting the Quran today? What were their stories?

In this article, we look at just 3 examples of the scholars of the Quran, and their incredible life stories.

If you’re a Muslim from North Africa, chances are you owe these men an incredible debt!

It all starts with the teacher…

Nafi’ ibn Abdul Rahman: The Imam of Qur’an in Madinah

Nafi’ ibn Abdul Rahman ibn Abi Nu’aym al-Laythi, known as Abu Ruwaym, was from Madinah, though he originally came from Isfahan. He was born during the time of Abdul Malik ibn Marwan, rahimahullah.

Nafi’ was described as aswadan ha’ikan, very dark-skinned with a radiant smile that would shine like the full moon. He was unbelievable when it came to manners, and he had a wonderful sense of humor.

The Fragrance of the Prophet ﷺ

One of the most remarkable things about Nafi’ was that you could smell musk from his face and mouth when he spoke. His breath was exceptionally pleasant. People would notice this fragrance every time he came to teach Qur’an.

When asked about this, Nafi’ explained that he never actually touched perfume. Rather, he saw the Prophet ﷺ in a dream once, and in that dream the Prophet ﷺ was reciting straight into his mouth, his mouth in front of Nafi’s mouth. He could even feel the breath of the Prophet ﷺ coming to his mouth in the dream. When he woke up from that dream, that smell began to come every time he recited the Qur’an.

People were curious (and quite rude, frankly): “How come your face is shining and you’re so black like this? And what about your manners?” Nafi’ attributed all of this to what happened after he saw the Prophet ﷺ in his dream, shook his hand, and read Qur’an to him.

Qaloon, one of his most famous students, said that Nafi’ was one of the purest people in body, physically, in manners, and among the best reciters, rahimahullah.

His Status in Madinah

Nafi’ was very famous in Madinah, and he was the leader in Qur’anic recitation there. To be the leader of Qur’an in Madinah is extraordinarily difficult because Madinah is where the majority of the Sahaba (Companions) were. For him to achieve this leadership position speaks volumes about his mastery.

That’s why Imam Malik said: “Nafi’ is the imam of the Qur’an in Madinah,” rahimahullah.

Imam Ahmad used to say that the best qira’ah ever was the qira’ah of Nafi’, the qira’ah of Ahl al-Madinah (the people of Madinah).

Al-Layth reported that he made hajj in 113 Hijri, and he found that the imam who led the prayer, the one who taught the Qur’an, and the one everybody admitted was the leader, was Nafi’ ibn Abi Nu’aym, rahimahullah. Scholars like al-Asma’i and Ibn Mujahid all admitted that he was among the greatest scholars of qira’at, rahimahullah.

His Studies and Teaching Philosophy

Nafi’ perfected his recitation of the Qur’an with many tabi’een. In fact, Nafi’ studied the Qur’an under 70 tabi’een (70 successors), including scholars like Ibn Shihab and others.

Al-A’raj, one of his teachers, had recited the Qur’an from Abu Huraira and from Ibn Abbas. Nafi’ taught Qur’an for a very long time, and many people recited Qur’an from him, including Imam Malik, rahimahullah, and others. Among his most famous students were Qaloon and Warsh.

Abu Duhya once asked Nafi’: “O Abu Hurair, do you teach people Qur’an with all the qira’at that you have learned?”

Nafi’ responded: “Subhanallah! Why would anyone prevent themselves from the reward? Yes, I teach people from all the qira’at that I learned, so I can get the reward multiple times.” He would recite a verse with one qira’ah, then with another qira’ah, essentially doubling his reward.

The Critical Principle: Qira’at Are Based on Narration, Not Opinion

One incident stands out as particularly important. A person once came to Nafi’, who was the leader and imam of Qur’an, and said: “Khud alayya al-hadr” (Let me teach you hadr, a fast way of reciting).

Nafi’ said: “What’s hadr? I’ve never heard of that.”

The person replied: “No, no, no, it’s something I invented.”

Nafi’ said: “Read.” The person read.

Then Nafi’ firmly stated: “That’s not how we read. We pronounce the letters carefully. We keep the shaddah, we don’t make tasheel. We don’t make the madd short, and we don’t give some letters madd inappropriately.”

Then came his critical principle: “Listen carefully: we only read the way the leaders of the companions of Muhammad ﷺ read. We don’t read any other way than that. Even if it is afsah lughat al-arab (the most pure Arabic), even if it’s the most correct from an Arabic perspective, even if it’s perfectly correct linguistically, we don’t read this way. Our Qur’an is only taken from narrations, not based on Arabic language.”

This is an essential narration for understanding the concept of qira’at and the concept of ahruf. The qira’at are not about someone who is skilled in Arabic making their own style based on linguistic understanding. It is only what the sahaba taught the tabi’een, and only what the sahaba took from the Prophet ﷺ. The recitation is based on what was heard and transmitted, not on opinion, understanding, or different interpretations of Arabic language.

His Weakness in Hadith

Nafi’ was also known for riwayat al-hadith (narrating hadith), but he reported very few ahadith. However, his narration in hadith was criticized. Imam Ahmad said: “Take Qur’an from him, but not hadith.”

This is why there are no narrations from Nafi’ in the kutub al-sitta (the six major hadith collections), because the majority of the muhaddithin (hadith scholars) did not accept his narration in hadith.

His Death and Final Advice

Nafi’ died in Madinah in 169 or 170 Hijri. Upon his death, he gathered his children, and they asked him: “Father, give us a wasiyah (advice or reminder) before you die.”

Look at the people of Qur’an. When they think of advice, they think of Qur’an. Nafi’ recited a verse to them, saying: “Have taqwa of Allah and make sure that what’s between yourselves is righteous and good. Obey Allah and His Messenger if you truly believe.”

What a powerful verse, especially for siblings, because they can fight with one another and have disagreements. He wanted them to always be reconciled with one another, maintaining good and excellent relationships with each other.

Qaloon: The Excellent One

His name was Isa ibn Mina ibn Wardhan. From his name, you can tell he came from a Christian or Roman background. He was a mawla (freed slave) of the Ibn Zahra family, and he became known as “Qaloon“.

“Qaloon” is a Roman word that means “excellent.”

Qaloon’s teacher in qira’ah was Nafi’, who was also his stepfather. He studied intensively under Nafi’ and became highly specialized in his recitation. Nafi’ gave him the nickname “Qaloon” because he recited so well. Nafi’ would gesture with his hand and say “Qaloon!” meaning “you’re perfect” or “excellent,” making the hand gesture for excellence.

Divine Providence in His Family History

Qaloon’s grandfather was originally taken as a prisoner in war. Think about how Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala has planned things. His grandfather was taken as a prisoner, never imagining that his grandson would leave an incredible legacy in the recitation of the Qur’an, which would benefit the entire Muslim world.

SubhanAllah, what a remarkable turn of events.

His Miraculous Hearing Condition

Something extraordinary about Qaloon was that he was shadid us-samam (extremely hard of hearing). He could barely hear anything. People could bring a trumpet and blow it right next to him, and he wouldn’t notice it. People would scream, and he wouldn’t hear them.

But when the Qur’an was recited, he could hear it perfectly. This was something incredibly strange about him, rahimahullah. Even if someone raised their voice talking about other matters, he wouldn’t hear it (hatta law turfa sotak la ghayata lam yasmaa), but when the Qur’an was recited, he knew it immediately.

He used to correct people’s recitation just by looking at their lips. Through the movement of their lips, he could tell when they made mistakes, rahimahullah ta’ala.

His Studies and Excellence

Al-Dhahabi, rahimahullah, called him “the Muqri of Madinah, the student of Nafi’, the great Imam Abu Musa Isa ibn Mina.” He was one of the seven famous qurra (the seven reciters), rahimahullah ta’ala.

Qaloon was very dear to Nafi’. He read the Qur’an with Nafi’ many times and wrote down his recitation, compiling it in a mushaf until he perfected Nafi’s recitation.

When asked how many times he recited the Qur’an with Nafi’, Qaloon said: “I don’t know. What I know is that I spent 20 years reciting the Qur’an with him.”

He also recited with Ali ibn Abi Jathar and Isa ibn Wardhan, rahimahullah ta’ala. Many people recited the Qur’an from Qaloon, including al-Kasa’i, Ibrahim al-Madani, and many other scholars.

His Hadith Narration

Qaloon also narrated hadith, and many people narrated from him. However, al-Dhahabi, rahimahullah, said he was not as excellent in hadith as he was in Qur’an. His hadith narrations are not authentic by themselves, but they can serve as backup or supporting evidence for other narrators.

He died in Madinah in 220 Hijri. Al-Dhahabi said this is the correct date.

Warsh: The Voice of an Angel

His Background and Appearance

The second famous student of Nafi’ was Warsh. He was an Egyptian scholar who traveled to Madinah to study under Nafi’. Warsh was born in 110 Hijri.

He was called “Warsh” because he was the complete opposite of Nafi’ in appearance. He was very, very white. “Warsh” means milk or cream, referring to how white his complexion was, like milk.

Warsh is also the name of a famous bird that’s a little chubby. Because he was somewhat overweight, he may have been called Warsh for this reason as well. One time his sheikh called him “Warshan” because he was a bit heavy.

There’s actually a book collecting all the scholars who were known to be overweight, and Warsh is included in it. One time, Warsh decided to lose weight. When he lost the weight, his sheikh used to call him “two Warsh,” then when he saw him thinner, he’d say “this is one Warsh now.”

Warsh was described as white with blue eyes and blonde hair. He wasn’t very tall, but he was very big and filled out, masha’Allah. His theobes (robes) used to be very short because of his size. And his recitation was absolutely beautiful.

The Remarkable Story of His Studies

When Warsh came to Madinah, he had only a short period of time to study. He sought out Nafi’ and tried to find a way to study with him. People told him: “Nafi’ only teaches five or ten verses per session. You’re not going to be able to complete your studies.”

Warsh thought: “This is very difficult. How am I going to be able to read with him?” But he was determined. He found someone close to Nafi’ and approached him in the masjid, explaining: “This man has come all the way from Egypt to study with you, and he has only a short period of time. Would you please give him a chance?”

There were many people waiting in line to read with Nafi’. If Warsh waited in line, he wouldn’t even get to read. But through this intermediary, Nafi’ allowed him to read.

Nafi’ said: “Read ten verses.” Warsh read the ten verses.

The Voice That Changed Everything

When the people of Madinah heard his recitation, they exclaimed: “This cannot be a human being! That’s an angel studying the Qur’an! That’s the voice of an angel!”

One student turned to Warsh and said: “You’re here to make a complete khatm (finishing) before you leave, right?”

Warsh said: “Yes.”

The student said: “I donate my 20 verses to you. I’m not going to read today. I’m staying in Madinah. I’m not going anywhere.” He gave Warsh his 20 verses.

Then another student said: “And I give my 20 verses.”

The first student’s generosity was followed by many others. Everyone started donating their time slots, their 20 verses, until Warsh was able to make khatm al-Qur’an several times. He completed more than one full reading of the Qur’an with Nafi’ in this short period, all because everybody donated their time.

The Legacy of Small Contributions

Here’s something profound to understand: those students who donated their time to Warsh may have never made it into the history books. Maybe they’re not famous. But they are great leaders, and they contributed tremendously.

Millions of people recite the Qur’an according to Warsh throughout all of North Africa. This is because of those people who donated their time.

The famous qira’ah associated with Warsh is specifically his transmission from Nafi’, not from other teachers he studied with in Egypt. “Warsh from Nafi’” became one of the most widespread recitations in the Muslim world, all because of one small act of generosity that rippled through history.

Never underestimate what you can contribute.

His Life and Teaching

Warsh was young when he came to study. He loved Nafi’, rahimahullah, so much. He stayed for a couple of months in Madinah and learned multiple complete readings. Then he returned to Egypt to teach the qira’ah.

As for hadith, there are no known narrations from Warsh in hadith collections. His contribution was specifically in the field of Qur’anic recitation.

His Death

Warsh died in Egypt in 197 Hijri at 87 years old. He was buried in al-Qarafa al-Sughra, a cemetery in Cairo.

May Allah raise the ranks of those who preserve the Quran and those who teach it!

The Excellence of the Quraysh

AlMaghrib — Wed, 20 Apr 2016 00:00:00 GMT

And just before I begin, the Quraysh aren’t the Saudi ruling family. What? You think I’m joking? Not at all. There are loads of Muslims out there who absolutely believe that only the current Arabs in Saudi Arabia are the modern-day Quraysh, all of them without exception.

Actually, there are not many surviving Quraysh today, but there are still remnants and not just in Saudi Arabia, and not just identified by al-Qurashi but also by al-Sharīf or al-Ashrāf especially as descendants from the original Hashemites. There are good numbers of the Quraysh to be found nearby in Yemen and Egypt, but then some places as varied as Kenya to Indonesia, having settled after their travels throughout history. It is probably true though that most of the purest in blood line can be found in Makkah, ‘Arafah and Tā’if amongst other places in Saudi Arabia.

Goes slightly against what you might have had in your mind right?

So firstly, let’s remind ourselves that the Quraysh were the leading Arab tribe in Makkah at the time of Prophethood. The Prophet ﷺ came from Bani Hāshim, a sub-clan of Bani ‘Abd Manāf who were one of the key clans from the Quraysh. And the Prophet ﷺ established the excellence of the Quraysh in many different narrations, directly and indirectly.

The very first evidence of their excellence is that the Prophet ﷺ comes from their tribe and he shares their lineage. The Prophets only come from the greatest of tribes and families in honour, standing and respect. The Prophet ﷺ said as narrated in Sahīh Muslim:

إن الله اصطفى كنانة من ولد إسماعيل، واصطفى قريشاً من كنانة، واصطفى من قريش بني هاشم، واصطفاني من بني هاشم

Allah chose Kinānah from the progeny of Ismā‘īl, chose Quraysh from Kinānah, chose Bani Hāshim from Quraysh and chose me from Bani Hāshim.

Secondly, the Prophet ﷺ said in Imām al-Bukhāri’s al-Adab al-Mufrad in a hasan narration:

عَنْ رِفَاعَةَ بْنِ رَافِعٍ ، أَنَّ النَّبِيَّ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ قَالَ لِعُمَرَ رَضِيَ اللَّهُ عَنْهُ : ” اجْمَعْ لِي قَوْمَكَ ” ، فَجَمَعَهُمْ ، فَلَمَّا حَضَرُوا بَابَ النَّبِيِّ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ دَخَلَ عَلَيْهِ عُمَرُ فَقَالَ : قَدْ جَمَعْتُ لَكَ قَوْمِي ، فَسَمِعَ ذَلِكَ الْأَنْصَارُ فَقَالُوا : قَدْ نَزَلَ فِي قُرَيْشٍ الْوَحْيُ ، فَجَاءَ الْمُسْتَمِعُ وَالنَّاظِرُ مَا يُقَالُ لَهُمْ ، فَخَرَجَ النَّبِيُّ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ ، فَقَامَ بَيْنَ أَظْهُرِهِمْ فَقَالَ : ” هَلْ فِيكُمْ مِنْ غَيْرِكُمْ ؟ ” قَالُوا : نَعَمْ ، فِينَا حَلِيفُنَا وَابْنُ أُخْتِنَا وَمَوَالِينَا ، قَالَ النَّبِيُّ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ : ” حَلِيفُنَا مِنَّا ، وَابْنُ أُخْتِنَا مِنَّا ، وَمَوَالِينَا مِنَّا ، وَأَنْتُمْ تَسْمَعُونَ : إِنَّ أَوْلِيَائِي مِنْكُمُ الْمُتَّقُونَ ، فَإِنْ كُنْتُمْ أُولَئِكَ فَذَاكَ ، وَإِلَّا فَانْظُرُوا ، لَا يَأْتِي النَّاسُ بِالْأَعْمَالِ يَوْمَ الْقِيَامَةِ ، وَتَأْتُونَ بِالْأَثْقَالِ ، فَيُعْرَضَ عَنْكُمْ ” ، ثُمَّ نَادَى فَقَالَ : ” يَا أَيُّهَا النَّاسُ – وَرَفَعَ يَدَيْهِ يَضَعَهُمَا عَلَى رُءُوسِ قُرَيْشٍ – أَيُّهَا النَّاسُ ، إِنَّ قُرَيْشًا أَهْلُ أَمَانَةٍ ، مَنْ بَغَى بِهِمْ – قَالَ زُهَيْرٌ : أَظُنُّهُ قَالَ : الْعَوَاثِرَ – كَبَّهُ اللَّهُ لِمِنْخِرَيْهِ ” ، يَقُولُ ذَلِكَ ثَلَاثَ مَرَّاتٍ

Rifā‘ah b. Rāfi‘ (r) reported that the Prophet ﷺ said to ‘Umar (r), “Gather your people for me.” He gathered them, and once they were at the door of the Prophet ﷺ, ‘Umar entered and said, “I’ve gathered for you my people.” The Ansār heard this and said, “Revelation has been sent down regarding the Quraysh.” People came to hear and see what would be said, so the Prophet ﷺ came out and stood amongst them and said, “Are there any amongst you who are not from your own selves?” They replied, “Yes, there are those who we are in alliance with, our nephews and our mawlās.” The Prophet ﷺ said, “Our allies are from us, our nephews are from us, our mawlās are from us. O you who are listening: my friends are those amongst you who maintain taqwā. If you are from them then good, but if not, then be careful lest people come on the Day of Standing with good deeds whereas you come with burdens, and you are cast aside.” Then he called out and said, “O People – and he lifted his hands and placed them on the heads of the Quraysh – O People! The Quraysh are the most trustworthy people. Whoever wishes for them – and Zuhayr said, “I think he said “problems” – Allah will throw him on his face.” He said that three times.

This narration in which the Prophet ﷺ was addressing the Muslims in Madinah indicates the excellence of the Quraysh. The Prophet ﷺ raising his hands for them and then putting his hands on the heads of the Quraysh strengthens the main message of this hadīth which is how close they are to the Prophet ﷺ.

The statement that they are the people of amānah has been explained in Faydh’l-Qadīr in various ways; they are the foremost in the choice for leadership, and that is due to their trustworthiness, reliability, honesty and all other such qualities that a successful leader needs. They also said that the Quraysh’s supporting of the Prophet ﷺ, their love for him, their respect for him and their closeness to him in kin ﷺ is an amānah that the people have to take on with respect to how they treat and deal with the Quraysh. All of this is possible in interpretation. Remember, with the importance of amānah being so emphasised in Islām, and such a difficult characteristic to achieve in our lives and also being the first quality that the Nation will lose as the Prophet ﷺ told us, then to be the “people of amānah” is a true praise.

Also, the phrase “‘Awāthir” or “problems” from the above narration, deserves further study. It comes from a root word عثر which means “to fall over, to stumble, to trip up.” The more advanced forms of the word such as عاثور mean a trap that is set up for animals like a snare for a lion or a pit that is dug for an animal to fall into. Likewise عِثار means that thing which someone stumbles over or causes one to fall and the plural of that is عواثير which is like the narrated word above with an extra ي but it also correct without the ي as in the version narrated here. That’s why we believe only humiliation will result for those who want the Quraysh to “trip up” or are trying to “plot their downfall”. Also, the word means “places of danger” and “death”, making it even more serious. Also, it means “to cause someone difficulty, hardship and distress.” That’s why I have translated the word as “problems” although clearly the word has a much higher connotation – “problems” combines all the evil intentions of those who wish harm, distress and a bad name for the Quraysh whilst at the same time trying to plot their downfall, diminish their status and cause them to literally fall from grace.

The last portion of the above narration has been narrated by Imam Ahmed as “throw him in the fire on his face” but here it means to basically humiliate and shame anyone who would oppose the Quraysh; the face and especially the nose has always been mentioned in Arabic and the word مِنْخِرَيْهِ literally means “his nostrils”. The understood meaning of this final statement though is that any one who becomes an enemy to the Quraysh will be destroyed and why not, when Allah himself has purified their hearts, despite their late entry into Islam yet with their excellence established. As Ibn Hajr said, “No-one opposes them except that they are defeated in this world and punished in the Hereafter.”

The Prophet ﷺ also said about the Quraysh in the Musannaf and Kanz al-‘Ummāl:

خيار قريش خيار الناس , وشرار قريش شرار الناس , والذي نفس محمد بيده , لولا أن تبطر قريش لأخبرتها بما لخيارها عند الله أو ما لها عند الله

The best of Quraysh are the very best of mankind and the worst of the Quraysh are the very worst of mankind. By the One in Whose Hand lies the soul of Muhammad, if it was not for the fact that the Quraysh become proud, I would have informed them of their position of excellence with Allah.

In the Musnad of Imām Ahmad, the Prophet ﷺ said in the authentic narration:

إن للقرشي مثل قوة رجلين من غير قريش

Certainly, a man from the Quraysh has the strength of two men from other than the Quraysh

Imām al-Zuhri was asked about the meaning of this statement and he replied, “in their superior opinions.”

There are many other narrations in the praise of the Quraysh but this is sufficient for now.

The issue though that some people find difficult is whether Islam promotes favouritism here with respect to the Quraysh? What happened to any idea of equality and everyone being judged the same and on the merit of their own actions? Is the love of the Prophet ﷺ for his tribe and family biased?

In brief, the first response to this is mentioned in the same hadīth above narrated in al-Adab al-Mufrad where the Prophet ﷺ censures the Quraysh and warns them to not fall short in good deeds. He also clarifies that when it actually comes down to it, then it’s only the people of taqwa who are his true friends and supporters. The word “walīyy” in the first narration above has all these connotations – he ﷺ doesn’t make his friends those who are just related to him as al-Qastalāni said in explanation of this statement; it’s as if he ﷺ is saying, “I don’t befriend simply those who are related to me. I love only Allah because that is His obligatory right from His servants, and I love the righteous believers for His Sake alone, and I love those who are loved because of their righteousness and their imān, whether he is a relative or not – I look after and fulfil the rights of my relatives in order to maintain the ties of kinship.”

This is of course supported by the narration in the Sahīh of Imām al-Bukhāri:

آل أبي طالب ليسوا إلي بأولياء , إنما وليي الله وصالح المؤمنين

The family of Abu Tālib are not necessarily my friends; my friend is only Allah and the Righteous Believers.

No-one should have any doubt that the Quraysh or those who call themselves Hāshimis or Syeds or the Hābā’ib or whoever wants to be from the Prophet’s ﷺ lineage will have no advantage over anyone else unless they are people of taqwa first and foremost and then that they come with good deeds. In another authentic hadīth narrated in al-Adab al-Mufrad, the Prophet ﷺ said:

O Bani Ka‘b b. Lu‘ay! Save yourselves from the Fire! O Bani ‘Abd Manāf! Save yourselves from the Fire! O Bani Hāshim! Save yourselves from the Fire! O Bani ‘Abd al-Muttalib! Save yourselves from the Fire! O Fātimah daughter of Muhammad! Save yourself from the Fire! I cannot do anything for you with respect to Allah’s decision other than that you have ties of kinship which I shall maintain.

Thus this is a point which needs no further explanation and the narrations on this point are too numerous to mention.

Secondly, we need to make an important clarification: there is no such thing as “equality” in Islam. Many Muslims have some mistaken idea, probably due to the influences of our modern-day culture, that everyone is in someway equal with respect to everything and anything.

This is not correct. Allah chooses some people to better than others, blesses some with understanding that He doesn’t give to others, gives some people strength that He doesn’t give to others, makes some from the Prophetic family and not others, makes some Companions and not others, and indeed blesses some with Prophethood and not others. This is all under His Divine Will and Wisdom of which we know little about, yet there is no doubt about Allah’s justice in all that He chooses. Whether we are the chosen ones or not with respect to any particular advantage, absolutely everyone has to opportunity to make it to the top. You don’t have to be from Quraysh to get al-Firdaws. Dying as a martyr in battle is probably easier, but who’s up for it?

Also, men and women have different qualities and they will likewise use those different qualities to accumulate good deeds in different ways, one sex having an advantage one day whereas the other sex will have the advantage the other day. And the examples for this in creation are many.

Also, people with advantages are held more accountable as well so it isn’t all necessarily plain sailing. If you are meant to be blessed like being from the Quraysh, you will be more under the microscope and you can expect your punishment to be equal to the amount of your advantage if you are to slip up. Ask any of the real people of Ahl’l-Bayt or the Imāms and the scholars and see what they tell you about the pressures of expectation.

But of which there is no doubt is that everyone has an equal chance to become the very, very best. When the Prophet ﷺ emphasised that neither Arab had superiority over a non-Arab, or a white man over a black man etc, then this is to close the door to discrimination by the creation themselves and to allow everyone the same opportunity to gain taqwa.

As for how those who have extra blessings on their side because of their lineage, their tribe, or other such good fortune etc, will actually use that advantage, we see various understandings from the scholars: if we take the above narrations for the Quraysh then it is understood that they will find achieving taqwa more easy, they will suffer less temptations, they will find more support from their community etc. This doesn’t mean though that if another normal person gains the same level of taqwa, that they will be rewarded differently in the After-life. Rather, the very basics of Islam affirm that everyone will be rewarded according to their efforts and their results, and Allah knows best.

The Messenger Was Born

AlMaghrib — Fri, 18 Dec 2015 00:00:00 GMT

At a time when many Muslims will be debating the definitions of bid‘ah and the condemnation of people based upon whether they don’t celebrate the ‘Eed Milād’l-Nabi, or do, where some will find excuse to party and others will find reason to have a quiet reflective moment, perhaps it would be pertinent to remind ourselves exactly what this debate is all really about.

The blessed Prophet and Messenger Sayyidina Muhammad (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) was understood to have been born in the early half of the current month Rabī‘ al-Awwal in the year 570 or 571 CE. There is not a single piece of evidence that categorically establishes the exact date of birth and indeed this was never an issue for the early scholars due to their lack of celebrating the exact birthday of the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam). As one of my teachers used to say, “Why do people find this strange? I was born in the 20th Century and my family still have no idea when I was born, not even the year!”

What is known for sure though is that the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) was born on a Monday which is perhaps one of the key reasons he fasted on a Monday as he (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) stated and as collected in Sahīh Muslim. We also fast on Mondays, but more in celebration of his Sunnah that he has left behind for us.

Yet within the discussion surrounding the birth of the Prophet, many people don’t get further than either the fact that we simply fast on a Monday as a result of it or on the other side, hold celebratory functions in which devotional songs are recited. Perhaps both parties would do well to not miss the wood for the trees and reflect upon an individual who simply cannot be reduced to a Mawlid gathering or a chain email warning of deathly innovation.

Thus let us start with all the authentic evidences we have in our possession, and just understand who was born that great day!

The Description of the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam)

Physically speaking, the Prophet Muhammad (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) was the most handsome of people. He was of medium height, not too tall and not too short, of medium build, of white-going-slightly-red-brown skin colour, with a completely full head of shiny black slightly curly hair that would reach to his shoulders at its longest, hair which was sometimes dyed slightly red and/or yellow, a taut neck, an extended black thick beard with a few white hairs, firm flat cheeks, a fine slender nose, wide white eyes with a slight reddish tinge with strikingly black pupils, a flat chest and stomach, well-statured, thick heavy hands with slightly long fingers, very soft palms, smooth large feet, no excess fat or flesh on the heels, and a gait of one leaning slightly forward when he walked. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

He had a large back, broad shoulders, in between which slightly to the left one could see the Seal of Prophethood – a slightly raised piece of skin with a small grouping of hair. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

When he met people, he would turn his whole body to meet them. He was the first to greet people, having a wide smile, with a face that was immersed in blessed light that shone and radiated like a bright moon. He had a firm handshake which he would not let go of until the other person let go yet at the same time was so gentle that if a small girl was to take his hand and lead him around the town, he would follow in tow. It was difficult for people to compose themselves in his presence due to the sheer awe of his countenance and the shock of how handsome he was. His gravitas and presence was such that despite his medium height, he seemed taller than those surrounding him. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

He would love to wear cotton shirts, some similar to a thawb, short and long but never below the ankles, sometimes short-sleeved so that one could see his white clean arm-pits and sometimes long to his wrists. He disliked woollen garments except for the occasional use of a woollen over-coat robe, mostly white yet sometimes colourful particularly striped, sometimes red-striped, but never wore anything saffron in colour. He would wear a turban, sometimes a two-piece outfit with a sarong type lower garment, and would accept and wear the clothes of foreigners given to him as a gift. Whatever he wore, he would wear it cleanly and humbly, and wore it well. Everything, whatever its origin, that draped over his magnificent body suited him well. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

The Demeanour of the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam)

He was always cheerful, of mild temperament and easy-going, yet at the same time reflective and would spend much of his time looking down at the ground in contemplation. When he spoke, those sitting around him were so still that it seemed that birds were perched on their heads. When he fell silent, they talked but never argued in his presence. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

He was neither rude nor coarse and did not shout or utter obscenities. He did not find fault with others nor lavishly praise them. He did not interrupt another’s speech. He would interact with those who sat with him in the best of ways: he would never frown at them, treat them harshly or turn away from them, he would not point out slips of the tongue nor reprimand one for any coarseness in speech or the likes, and he would make excuses for them as much as possible. Whoever mixed with him would think that he was the most beloved person to him due to the attention he received, his kindness and the sincere advice he was given. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

He would honour the leader of every people and put them in charge of their affairs. He would show respect to the people of nobility and excellence and he would divide his time amongst them in accordance to their religiosity, yet there wasn’t a soul who felt they were not able to approach him due to his humility and welcoming nature. He gave everyone who sat with him his due share such that none thought that another was more honoured than he. If any person sat with him or near him to ask of him, he was tolerant and remained so until that person himself turned away. When someone asked him for something he needed, they either departed with it or with some consoling words. He had the kindest and best behaviour of all people, being like a father to them. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

He was gentle, soft, close to people, he answered the calls of those who called him, judged those who required judgement, fulfilled the need of those who asked of him – never preventing them from asking him and never letting them go disappointed or empty-handed. When his Companions desired a matter from him, he would agree with them and follow them; if he determined to do something, he would consult them. He would accept their good from them and overlook their mistakes. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

He was the most truthful of people, the most honourable. The people of the earth fought him, employing all means at their disposal yet none of them ever accused him of lying. His friends and foes alike would not describe him except as the most gentle, generous and empowering individual to walk the face of the Earth. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

His generosity did not come about through effort, neither was it hard upon him, rather it naturally arose due to the purity of his soul and gentleness of spirit. He had the most giving of hearts by virtue of the righteousness of his disposition and the great good contained therein. Kindness would pour out of his heart for it was enveloped in every beautiful moral and in every excellence.

It is sufficient to end with the fact that the very greatest and noblest of people would all say about the Prophet Muhammad, “I have never seen anyone, before him or after him, who was comparable to him.” May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

The Right of the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam)

Allah jalla wa ‘alā sent him as a Prophet and a Messenger to the entirety of the creation of Jinn and Man. He was sent as nothing but a Mercy to these worlds, one blessed with wisdom and guidance, with a criterion to establish right from wrong, truth from falsehood, and to bring the people from darkness into light.

He was sent as a favour to mankind, and was sent to be followed. He was sent to be emulated and loved, to become more beloved to us than our parents and our children, even more than our own souls. It is in his cause that we are asked to sacrifice throughout our life for, and it is through his praise that we will attain the true success in this world and the Hereafter, by ultimately achieving the love of the Divine Himself.

It is his Sunnah that we study, revise, memorise and implement. We then internalise it, promote it, then teach it, defend it, protect it and die for it. At this moment then, let us revive his Sunnah by not indulging in actions contrary to it, but by reflecting on the magnificence of the one who came with it and his attempts to keep the people straight upon its path. Let us reflect upon the actions of those supreme Companions whom Allah Himself is Happy with, and the way they acted upon the Sunnah and the way they remembered their guide and master and celebrated his coming.

The Messenger was born and the world became illuminated as a result of that birth. Let us celebrate, not on the 8th, not on the 12th, not this month, and not even this year, but rather every single living moment of our lives as we now start to realise that we have been blessed beyond our wildest imagination to have even known of this great man: our master and leader, Sayyidina Muhammad. May Allah jalla wa ‘alā bless him and bestow peace upon him.

The Happy Ending of ‘Umar b. ‘Abd’l-‘Aziz (r)

AlMaghrib — Wed, 25 Nov 2015 00:00:00 GMT

Al-Tabari narrates in Tārīkh’l-Tabari (4/72):

Fātimah the wife of ‘Umar b. ‘Abd’l-‘Azīz said about his illness, “That night, his shivering became uncontrollable and he couldn’t sleep, so we kept a vigil over him and didn’t sleep either. In the morning, I told a servant of his known as Marthad, “O Marthad, stay with the Amīr’l-Mu’minīn and if he has any single need then at least you are at hand.”

We left and fell into a deep sleep due to the previous night spent awake. It was well into the day once we awoke and we went to see (‘Umar) and found Marthad sleeping outside the house. I woke him up and said, “What are you doing outside Marthad?!”

Marthad replied, “He told me to get out! He said to me, “Marthad, leave me! By Allāh, I see something which is neither human or jinn!”

When I came out, I heard him recite:

تِلْكَ الدَّارُ الْآَخِرَةُ نَجْعَلُهَا لِلَّذِينَ لَا يُرِيدُونَ عُلُوًّا فِي الْأَرْضِ وَلَا فَسَادًا وَالْعَاقِبَةُ لِلْمُتَّقِينَ

We grant the Home in the Hereafter to those who do not seek superiority on earth or spread corruption: the happy ending is awarded to those who are mindful of God. (al-Qasas, 83)

So I entered the room again and I saw his face turned and his eyes were closed. He had passed away.””

May Allāh have mercy upon him.

Are You Being Tricked, A Treat? Halloween In Islam.

AlMaghrib — Wed, 28 Oct 2015 00:00:00 GMT

That title is cleverer than you actually thought by the way. The pause at the comma is obligatory. The inflexion applied to the last two words in the same sentence is a must. The understanding of “Treat” to mean “very well” or “significantly” is essential. After all that is done, this entire article is encapsulated by that first sentence. But you guys already worked that out right?

Anyway.

So a friend of mine asked me, “What do I tell my kids about Halloween in Islam?”

To which I responded, “I haven’t got a clue!”

“But you teach classes on raising kids!”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like them or understand them or know how to turn Halloween into a halal bedtime story!”

After that shocking admission, let me also admit that I have no idea how to explain to a Halloween-obsessed world full of adults let alone kids why you would have to be absolutely stark raving bonkers as a Muslim to either celebrate it, or partake in it, or think it is something nice and simple.

As you can imagine, any scholar trying to educate Muslims about Halloween is going to come in for a hiding to nothing. People have changed. Muslims don’t have that same self-respect that they were so well-known for. As a community, we have become far more liberal than we ever should have, an understandable reaction to the increase in folks going the other way: radical extremism. But an unprecedented level of feeling inferior to others – especially the wider society that we are part of in the West – means that our new found liberalism leads to us often going to great lengths to find excuses for things, to wash away facts, paper over the cracks and ignore matters which go against the very root of the Qur’an and Sunnah that we stand for.

If you were to try and explain the Islamic ruling on Halloween, the only thing people read is: “this guy wants to say kids going Trick or Treating for sweets is haram lol” – and therein lies the problem. Are we even mature enough as a community to discuss things like this? Are you willing to question those things you considered to be so innocent and innocuous, and put yourself in awkward positions trying to explain a different perspective to your kids, or neighbours, or colleagues?

Let us rewind a little so that I can mention a few things about Halloween:

There are enough historical and religious facts about the origins of Halloween to shock even the most sceptic of academics, and keep even the most talented of scholars busy.
Halloween is a Pagan festival, originating in Samhain. Those who denied this, said it has purely Christian roots. Note: that doesn’t make it much better.
At its core, Halloween’s rituals involve the warding off of demons, devils and anything else evil you can draw at school.
The concept of “Trick or Treating” today, is a later addition and doesn’t necessarily have a Pagan or religious origin per se.

I think pretty much everyone knows these few things about Halloween, or has seen a lecture or two somewhere about the same. It leads virtually all Imams to rule that concerning Halloween, the partaking in, or celebration thereof, or the preparation for, is all impermissible and contradictory to Islamic principles. I have no problem adding my voice to that, with a few caveats which I might mention later, but I think there is something of greater value here to explore.

See, from a scholarly angle, the ruling on the celebrating of Halloween is a far more complex issue than meets the eye, and requires a very detailed and holistic study of some of the following questions:

For a celebration to be considered impermissible, does it have to be religious in nature or is it sufficient to be anything which is celebrated or remembered regularly as the word ‘Eid in the hadith suggests? And what would be the dhawābit or parameters of “regular”?
Those celebrations or festivals which are religious in nature, with specific reasons: if their reasons for celebration change, does the ruling also change?
If so, how would we measure that there has been enough of a change in perception or reasoning behind a celebration? To what measure is ‘urf the decider, and what if there are outliers in that ‘urf which would suggest the exact opposite. For example, if all kids on the planet see Halloween as a chance to get free sweets, but a small minority practice their modern version of Satanism and other Pagan rituals on that night, who is given priority from an usūl point of view, and what is the evidence? And what if a majority in terms of numbers see a festival such as Christmas to be a national Capatilist holiday, yet the media market it as a religious one? Who is given the greater weight in determining the change in perception, for the sake of the Islamic ruling on the issue?
How actually important is one’s intention in these matters? Can one’s intention to partake in something impermissible, for the sake of not looking out of place or awkward in a neighbourhood, ever overcome the apparent ruling on the matter?
What are the dhawābit for the concept of “celebration”? Do greetings and words carry the full connotation of celebration? Is it actions which are to be taken into account?
Is there still a place to try and solve these issues from an usūl perspective as opposed to just using a more lazy approach and citing dharūrah and fatwas (i.e. for the “sake of necessity”) associated with that? Or seeing ourselves in a paradigm of fiqh al-aqalliyyāt or “laws pertaining to a minority living amongst a non-Muslim majority”, or interacting with non-Muslims who are not mukhātab bi’l-furū’ and thus don’t come under Islamic rules and allow our full interaction with them on that basis.

These are reflections that might need their own research paper for each question! And this is why I always told my students that it won’t be a Faqīh who will solve this issue for us, but an Usūli, someone who can work with the principles of jurisprudence in a very comfortable and deep way to help us understand the mechanics at hand. The more you study these questions, the more you realise that modern day scholars largely skirt around the detail concerning them, because not only is there no consensus, but there is actually little agreement and scant evidence.

I often discuss this issue with my colleagues and we all admit that it requires further study and tahqīq, and it is for that reason why we will leave these for now, and just stick to an almost second-rate approach to fiqh and temporarily judge by what it looks like from the outside, in order to give the Muslims general guidance in the short-term.

So when it comes to Halloween, you’d have to be blind to not see that “outside” looking pretty crazy. People celebrating magic, the dark arts, dressing up as everything evil and celebrating the macabre and death itself etc etc.

But sometimes, it’s not even necessary to have to study a particular issue in detail such as what Halloween is, or was, or what it entails, or what it will lead to etc. Sometimes, if you have the right glasses on, you can step back and survey the field, and see a potential, more insidious danger for future (and this?) Muslims generations.

Reflect on this: how did we allow evil to become so sweet? Naughty but nice, right? Think of all the adverts: the devil either comes across as a charming, lovable rogue, or something so horrific and plastic, that it can only be a fake latex mask. Meaning: we’ve allowed evil to hide its identity very efficiently, and that cannot bode well. It’s either too nice to hate, or too crazy to be real.

“So what??” you might say. “Shall we ban Harry Potter movies now and stop kids watching Dynamo and not take opportunity of the cheap price of chocolate this week LOL??” you might argue.

Well, I don’t know. I will tell you something though: when I watch the eyes of children as they watch magic spells being cast by Harry, and then later hear them speaking amongst themselves about how they will summon the power of the xyz to do blah blah blah (fill in the gaps as you wish), it does make me wonder. When I see kids talking about Dynamo as a hero, I think to myself that if Shaytan offered these children the same power as Dynamo, would they take it, or would they feel enough fear to reject it outright without hesitation? At what point does child’s play, become a semi-belief taken into adulthood, and then left to linger as it mixes in your heart with pure iman?

If you are a believer, you should take those last few sentences above very, very seriously. Muslims believe in the Dark Side. And it is kufr to summon that Dark Side. This isn’t a joke or a movie trailer. This is Qur’anic and Prophetic fact and teaching.

So when I hear of Muslims – yes Muslims – amongst so many others, dabbling in Ouija boards and trying their hand at the dark arts, I wonder what was the role of the modern day movie culture in all that? What is the role of Halloween in that, if any? What is the role of celebrating escapism of this dunya in those things which are not Jannah-based, but Jahannam based? See, every industry will always rubbish these kind of associations with their product and teachings to protect their brand, but what about when that industry is Capitalism itself? What about when it has a $6 billion Halloween product to lose just in America?

There are many things that if you think upon them deeply, you will realise we have become desensitised to. And when one becomes desensitised, we often fall into it ourselves.

Nudity is the easiest example to think of, both at the observational level and at the level of individual practice as well. Many of us don’t bat an eyelid anymore if we see a near-naked girl walk by. Shock is old hat. Get with the times. But bring someone from the Sālihīn to visit, and they will be literally having a heart-attack on the streets. As for young girls themselves, then psychologically when everyone around you doesn’t cover, then to cover yourself becomes even more difficult. Likewise sexuality. Likewise ethics and values. Likewise evil. And likewise the Devil and all of his realm. The more innocent and natural and fun and normal it all becomes and it is sold as, the more easier it will be for us to fall into his game and no longer take him as the open enemy that Allah commands us to do.

Now you understand why I called this article “Have we been tricked, a treat?” ya‘ni, was it that easy for us as a community to have the wool so blatantly pulled over our eyes when it came to the realities of this dunya and evil and bid‘ah and kufr and its effect on our hearts and iman? But hey, you knew that already.

Reflect also on this: why have we failed to give our children and families and communities, enough reason to enjoy and celebrate good, healthy, pure, innocent reasons to celebrate and have fun? Why do we always have to go looking outside and genetically modify those acts which are anything but pure in their origin or their current reality, and use those instead? What are we saying about ourselves and our identity? Are we that weak and insecure? I don’t mean by this to pursue an isolationist policy within our community, but instead I would love for us to be proud of our own ethical and religious filter which removes those things objectionable to our theology and principles, and yet still live happy, fulfilling, beneficial and patriotic lives in our countries.

I think people give up far too easily on this. I certainly never had a problem living a fully Western and yet Islamic life, and neither should you. I never missed out on being authentically British despite never getting involved one iota in Halloween all my life, and neither will my kids, and neither should you. We sometimes exaggerate the impact of being different and are scared to make a change to the way we live our lives, or even perceive our lives. Well, you shouldn’t be so scared. And yes, sometimes that impact of being different is a significant one and might actually benefit you. In both worlds.

And so, for all those folks who just got bored silly with the last few pages of philosophy and just clicked on this article to read a few do’s and don’ts and get their fatwa, then let me save you all the research that is needed and all the evidences that should be quoted and say in the best of scholarly traditions:

It is not permissible to dress up at Halloween time in those costumes associated with this festival. It is even more haram to dress up as a clown at this time because suicide is not permissible whatsoever.
It is not permissible to intentionally do things different in your normal routine because of Halloween. And if you feel ashamed of what the neighbours will think because you never bought extra sweets to give out to everyone, then just bottle it and don’t open the door. Or go to Blackburn Sharif for a few days. You won’t find any folks knocking for jack diddly squat there…well, other than TJs knocking on for gasht but then we pretend we’re not home when they come anyway so that’s cool.
If one is buying a normal box of chocolates or a latte as per usual, but now it’s Halloween-themed, or pumpkin-spiced, it is permissible for that to be purchased and taken.
It is not permissible to give celebratory greetings for Halloween. If it is coincidentally a national holiday, it is permissible to wish folks a happy holiday or happy break etc.
It should be obligatory upon all parents as a counter to the prevalent culture to use this opportunity and explain to their children the true nature of Shaytan, the Jinn, magical powers, and the entire Dark side, and inculcate in them instead a love for the pure, the human, the limited, the normal, as well as the Angelic realm.
It is impermissible to partake in bonfires as some sort of celebration or event as part of Halloween itself. However if you decide to do a bonfire at the same time for the sole reason of burning rubbish to save on rubbish-tip costs under the cover of the fact that everyone is burning bonfires for Halloween, then not only is that allowed but you Sir are a genius and I would like to shake your hand.
You should not let your children go “Trick of Treating”, neither for social, safety or religious reasons. However, if someone knocks on your door and you’re silly enough to open the door and they ask for a treat, it is permissible to give something. But of course it is better to hide behind the curtains with the lights off and threaten anyone at home with death if they make a single sound.

Okay, maybe not that last one then.

And Allah knows best.

Your Menstruation Is Not Found In Your Hand

AlMaghrib — Sat, 10 Oct 2015 00:00:00 GMT

Islam is often accused of dishonouring women which is not only an outrageous slur, but should be thrown back in the face of many who claim it. Anyone who studies religions deeply and sincerely will find it impossible that it’s Islam which has a problem.

Let’s have a quick religious comparison using the topic of the day i.e. menstruation in islam, and whether a woman who is menstruating is impure and to be shunned for it as many people believe.

In the Old Testament, it says:

“When a woman has a discharge of blood which is her regular discharge from her body, she shall be in her impurity for seven days, and whoever touches her shall be unclean until the evening. And everything upon which she lies during her impurity shall be unclean; everything also upon which she sits shall be unclean…” (Leviticus 15:19-21)

For that reason, it states in the Talmud that in Jewish law, a couple with the wife menstruating:

– cannot touch each other even indirectly using an intermediate object
– cannot handle an object at the same time
– cannot sit together on an object that moves such as a swing etc
– cannot eat from the same plate
– cannot serve food to each other, etc etc

In Islam however, the only thing which is prohibited at the human level is intercourse, which is for good reason, and even that can be circumvented if there is a legal necessity. Medically, ignore the newspapers which tell you intercourse is good during menstruation. Ask the Gynaecologists instead and you will see that because of the cervix being more open, the proof for increased risk of infections – bacterial and fungal – as well as an increased chance of pelvic inflammatory disease is quite clear. Some even claim a greater risk of endometriosis and have good arguments too.

The Prophet Muhammad (s) made it absolutely clear in direct response to the beliefs of all other religions, that the Believer can never be impure, and by extension *all* people, regardless if they are menstruating. The human body is pure and sacrosanct.

And the Prophet (s) told his wife A’ishah (r) that her menstruation was not in her hand that she had to worry about its “impurity”!

And the Prophet (s) would place his head in her lap whilst menstruating and recite the Qur’an.

And more interestingly, how many times have we heard about the romance of the Prophet (s) with A’ishah (r) and actually realised that these famous incidents were often when she was *menstruating*, so whether that was close intimacy or even this famous incident where A’ishah (r) narrates:

“I would eat meat from a bone *when I was menstruating*, then hand it over to the Prophet (s) and he would put his mouth where I put my mouth; I would drink, then hand it to him and he would put his mouth at the place where I drank from.” (Muslim)

Salawatullahi wa salamuhu ‘alayka ya Rasulallah.

This man was so tuned in how to change paradigms and perceptions, it’s breath-taking. Even someone doing this *today* in our modern, hip, romantic, liberal, sex-in-the-city culture would struggle to pull it off. So what then of a man in the most simple, macho, and difficult of periods 1400 years ago, going against everything and everyone of that time!?

We thank the Lord for blessing us with Islam. And sufficient a blessing it is.