Chapter 11

Written by Mateen A. Khan, NJ

A version of this article was first published in Al-Madania Magazine.

An Outpouring

Allah the Exalted declares His pleasure with the emigrants from Makkah (Muhājirūn) and the inhabitants of Madinah (Anṣār): “The poor Muhājirūn, who were driven from their homes and their wealth, seeking Allah’s bounty and His pleasure, and supporting Allah and His Messenger—such are the ones who are truly sincere. As for those who were already settled in their homes and established in faith [the Anṣār], they harbor love for those who migrated to them and ask for no share in what has been given to them. They give preference to the Muhājirūn over themselves, even though they too experience poverty. Whoever is safeguarded from the greed of his own soul—it is they who are the truly successful.” (Al-Ḥashr 8–9)

The Muhājirūn, including the blessed Prophet ﷺ, and the Anṣār were bound by a loyalty rooted in mutual love. Allah praises the former for sacrificing their homes and wealth, and the latter for opening theirs. One displayed ṣabr and sacrifice; the other, gratitude and generosity. One, having spent prior time with the Prophet ﷺ, shared sincere counsel; the other offered worldly care. One followed the Prophet ﷺ, their obedient feet placed in his footsteps, while the other received him with outstretched arms. The Muhājirūn and the Anṣār are brothers in the Hereafter, destined to meet there, their mutual love of the Prophet ﷺ being the bond that joined them here.

In the previous chapter, the Prophet ﷺ, along with his closest companion, successfully reached the outskirts of Yathrib. His blessed footsteps first touched the area of Qubā’. The residents rejoiced at his arrival with cheers and song, honored to be the first neighbors to embrace him. He stayed with them for four memorable days and established the first masjid, before giving his camel a divinely guided rein to take him home.

This was a wondrous scene. Naturally, the Anṣār watched the camel’s every step in joyous anticipation, some of them rushing forward to coax it toward their own communities. The Prophet ﷺ would gently indicate to leave it alone, for Allah would guide it where it needed to go. Yet one could hardly blame their eagerness. What greater delight than to be the Prophet’s ﷺ neighbor, to serve and be served, to see and be seen, to love and be loved? A group among them chanted:

Daughters of Banū al-Najjār we are, What fortune! Muhammad is our neighbor!

Centuries later, Imam Buṣīrī would echo this precise sentiment of longing in the opening of his Burda, a verse that Muslims repeat to this day:

Is it from remembering the neighbors of Dhū Salam That you mix tears with blood as they flow from your eyes?

The Prophet’s camel eventually came to kneel, as if to be the first to prostrate there, at the site of the present Masjid al-Nabawī. This was adjacent to the house of Sayyiduna Abū Ayyūb al-Anṣārī, who was elated at this divine selection to serve him. His home was a simple two-storied structure. Although circumstances necessitated the Prophet ﷺ live on the ground floor, Sayyiduna Abū Ayyūb and his family were distressed at the thought of their feet being physically above the Prophet of Allah. They took great pains to avoid walking directly over where he resided below. At times, they refused to sleep in the center of their room, clinging to the walls so as not to stand above him.

Such loving decorum is, regrettably, lost in our age. Not only are we often unaware of our elders’ whereabouts, but we fail even to ensure our feet do not point in their direction. Perhaps it was for this refined reverence that Allah chose Sayyiduna Abū Ayyūb to be the Prophet’s ﷺ closest neighbor.

Building an Abode

The Prophet ﷺ began construction of his masjid and home. His blessed hands carried the bricks one by one, setting them into place. The Prophet’s ﷺ mercy is an inexhaustible wellspring. He bore tremendous difficulties, literally and metaphorically, so that his Ummah would have a place to visit him, then and until the end of time. The bystanders gazed in wonder, their hearts growing ever more admiring. This was not the kind of leader they had ever seen or heard of in tales of rulers and kings. This was a Mercy dwelling among them. Their appreciation deepened into fervor, and they rushed to assist.

Allah the Exalted says, “Hurry towards your Lord’s forgiveness and a Garden as wide as the heavens and earth prepared for the righteous, who give, both in prosperity and adversity, who restrain their anger and pardon people; Allah loves those who do good.” (Āl Imrān 133–134). The Muslims of Yathrib eagerly rushed to help him complete the structure. In a shared labor of love, the Prophet ﷺ and the Muslims sought Allah’s pleasure in chorus: “O Allah, the only good is that of the Hereafter. Assist the Anṣār and the Muhājirūn!”

The masjid was simple, lined by palm tree stumps with stones set at the entrances. His home was a small one-room dwelling with a ceiling one could touch. Superficially, it paled in comparison to the palaces of Chosroes or the estates of the wealthy. In reality, it stood second only to the Kaʻbah in its grandeur and acceptance before Allah, for they had not set out to build a monument for this world, but an abode for the Hereafter.

At ʻAqabah, the Anṣār had dedicated their lives to the Prophet ﷺ. Now, they gave not only this land and this masjid, but their entire city. They renamed Yathrib to Madīnat al-Nabī, “The City of the Prophet.”

With the city prepared, prophetic wayfarers began to pour into it from far and wide, leaving behind everything and carrying nothing. The Prophet ﷺ was their path, love was their provision, and Allah was their purpose. They offered their hearts to him ﷺ, and he, in turn, bound them to one another. The Prophet ﷺ established a brotherhood pact (muwākhāt) between the Muhājirūn and the Anṣār, elevating faith above tribe and kinship. With a glance, he dissolved decades of animosity; with a word, he established eternal bonds. When the Anṣār reached their capacity, people took residence in the Ṣuffah, a shaded area of the masjid inhabited mostly by poor Muhājirūn, some Anṣār, and visiting wayfarers. This was the Prophet’s ﷺ gathering place of spiritual formation, where he personally attended to both their material and spiritual needs.

Even the Jewish inhabitants of Madinah benefited from this prophetic mercy. For generations, they had been locked in cycles of betrayal and conflict with neighbors and strangers alike. The Prophet ﷺ concluded a pact with them that ended hostilities and opened a path toward shared prosperity.

Heating the Crucible

However, as we have seen repeatedly, it is the way of Allah to test the mettle of passion. One cannot claim love only to enjoy its pleasures without bearing its pains. The Muhājirūn had their possessions and property seized by the Makkan disbelievers upon their departure, leaving them destitute. The Anṣār, in their generosity, now suffered raids on the outskirts of Madinah by those same disbelievers. Day after day, the two communities shared in losses as their adversaries chipped away at their safety and property. Within the city, hypocrites, outwardly Muslim yet inwardly opposed, sought to undermine the community from within. In time, some of the People of the Book in Madinah slipped back into old patterns and, despite having received the Prophet’s ﷺ goodwill, joined forces with enemies beyond the city walls.

The disbelievers, both openly hostile and concealed among the ranks, refused to relent. They sought to break the Muslims through siege and fear, seemingly unaware that these believers had already traded the world for something far greater. For the true lovers of the Prophet ﷺ, the wisdom of Allah is this: the crucible of hardship is precisely where the purest faith is refined. Had the material prosperity of later years never arrived, the presence of the Prophet ﷺ alone would have been sufficient to carry them joyfully through any fire. His company was their solace; his contentment, their joy. It was a love so profound that it dissolved the distinction between guest and host. Although the Prophet ﷺ descended from the lineage of Sayyiduna Ibrāhīm, his heart became so entwined with the people of Madinah that he declared, “Had it not been for the migration (Hijrah), I would have been a man from the Anṣār.”

What could be dearer to the human heart than a love so sincerely returned?

Standing back from this city of light, encircled by desolate sands and encroaching enemies, the bond among the Anṣār, the Prophet ﷺ, and the Muhājirūn found its perfect expression in a single moment: the Prophet ﷺ instructed a Muhājir, Sayyiduna Bilāl, to call the first adhān, his voice ringing out across the welcoming land of the Anṣār.