One Friday, the merchant stood among the crowd and shouted at the top of his voice, “O people of Baghdad, bear witness that I possess what Allah does not! I have what Allah does not have! I have what Allah did not create! I love Discord, I hate truth! I bear witness to what I have not seen, and I pray without ablution!”
The people were outraged by his blasphemous and heretical words and immediately brought him before the Caliph. When the merchant entered the presence of Caliph al-Ma’mun, the Caliph asked sharply, “Did you truly say what is attributed to you?”
The merchant replied calmly, “Yes, I did.” Al-Ma’mun asked, “Why did you utter such a strange statement?” The merchant answered, “Highwaymen stole my money, and I waited at your gate for an entire year, yet no one let me in. I had no other way to finally meet you.” The Caliph said, “If you explain what you meant, I will return your money.” The merchant smiled and began explaining, “When I said I have what Allah does not, I meant I have a wife and children, whereas Allah has neither. Saying I have what Allah does not also signifies that I possess falsehood and deceit, while Allah is free from such qualities. When I said I have what Allah did not create, I meant I have memorized the Quran.
The Quran is the word of Allah, and it is uncreated. As for saying I love temptation, I meant I love wealth and children, and these are indeed temptations. Saying I hate the truth means I hate death, which is the ultimate truth. Saying I bear witness to what I haven’t seen with my eyes means I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah, even though I have not seen him. Saying I pray without ablution means I pray upon the Prophet (PBUH), and praying upon him does not require ablution.”
Caliph al-Ma’mun smiled and said, “I swear I have never met a wiser man than you. Return his money to him, and give him additional funds from the Muslims Finance House.” This story shows that true intelligence is not only the ability to reclaim your rights but also the ability to preserve your dignity while demanding them. In times of widespread injustice, sometimes a ruler will only listen when you shout something incomprehensible.
The Commander of the Faithful, Omar ibn al- Khattab (may God be pleased with him), ascended the pulpit and called out to the people, “Prayer is collective.” The people hurried from all directions, leaving their tasks behind, and gathered in the mosque. They were accustomed to this type of announcement only being used for momentous events, powerful sermons, or serious news. Once the assembly was complete, Omar looked upon them with the calm confidence of one who trusts in God, and in a voice that combined both grandeur and humility, he said, “O people, I was once a young boy, insignificant among others. I used to herd sheep for the people of Makkah and for my maternal aunts from the Banu Makhzum tribe. I would take the sheep out in the morning, water them, milk them, and clean their enclosures with my own hands. Then I would return in the evening, and they would give me a handful of dates as my wages, by which I supported myself.”
Omar ibn al-Khattab then paused, looking around at the faces before him, and said, “Now you understand why I called you here.” He descended from the podium, and a profound silence settled over the mosque, as if every heart had paused, moved by the depth of his lesson. Then Abdur-Rahman ibn Awf (may God be pleased with him) approached Omar ibn al-Khattab and said in astonishment, “O Commander of the Faithful, I see that you have humbled yourself.” Omar turned to him, his eyes shining with faith and sincere devotion, and replied, “That is exactly what I intended. My ego whispered that I am the Commander of the Faithful, and I feared falling into arrogance or pride. So I chose to discipline myself, to remember my humble beginnings, and to ensure that I never exceed the limits of humility.”
