With the jumu`ah upon us, everyone was in the best attire. I decided around 12:30pm, when everyone was leaving, to have another ghusl and get into my best clothing. Putting on another set of nice clothes, I was now prepared for the khutbah and what was going to be given by the khatib.

No sooner had I found my way out of the room, than I noticed that the hotel lobby was empty and the lobby outside, the masjid courtyard and the plaza were ram packed with jumu`ah congregants. I entertained the miniscule hope of getting inside and on every door the guard waved me back. “No, brother.  It is too full.”

Subhanallah, I mused. Now what am I going to do? I looked through all other means and there was nowhere to sit and nowhere to bow down. The only option would be to pray at the hotel if there was space.

I would have to do so from the room as the downstairs area was filled with Marlboro and Newport cigarette smoke residue and the najasah would impact upon the validity of my prayer.

My arrival at the hotel was noticed by no one in the desolate lobby. I rushed my way up the steps and got to the room. There must be a channel where the khutbah is transmitted from, I questioned but also hoped. There it was in front of me.

In plain view on the khutbah channel stood `Ali ibn `Abdur-Rahman al-Hudhaifi, medium height with fleshy chubby hands reading from his handwritten khutbah notes. The khutbah he gave warned about the danger of Muslims going back to their perspective countries and becoming as they had been before the hajj.

The khatib warned that to do this would take away from the greatness of what they had seen and how they had been blessed. “No,” he warned. “You must be wiser than that. You must be people of taqwa who waste neither time nor effort.” The Iqamah came after his address like lightning and the people stood.

As I was not physically present and could not hear the Imam’s voice, this did not count as the Imam being hadir, so the ruling in the school was I had to make zuhr. I was still in travelling mode so I would combine zuhr with `asr.

After prayers I read in the room from ash-Shama’il ul-Muhammadiyyah wa Khasa’il ul-Mustafawiyyah by Imam Abu `Isa at-Tirmidhi. Makkah had printed off a brilliant copy and I loved every page of the work. The time before Maghrib brought brother Uwais to my door along with Mumtaz, `Irfan, Saghir and Matloob.

We headed down in a large group and went into Masjid un-Nabawi and made our way in for Salat ul-Maghrib. I ran into two amazing brothers on the way: one cousin of my dear brother Bilal Azad (Raja braderie) and the brother from Curry Nites who delivers the prawn Korma when I order it from time to time.

Just five steps from the Badr door of Al-Masjid un-Nabawi, I was stopped by the guard. “What is this?” I looked down at the snack pack in my hand that the cousin-brother of Bilal Azad gave me.

“It’s just a box. I was going to just put it in my…” “No eating in the masjid,” the religious police man interrupted me. “You cannot go inside with that.” One Morocco behind me, who saw the commotion, became agitated. “Leave the shab (youngster) alone. Let him go inside!”

The religious zealot told me I could go in as long as I did not eat. I gave my word that I would not. “And these…” he pointed to my sandals that I was wearing over my khuffs, both jet black so as to appear as midnight.

“I thought the Salaf prayed in their shoes. There’s a hadith about it,” I looked at him and he shot me a quick look. It was very clear. Don’t get smart, buddy. I walked inside and within eye view of the religious police took the sandals off and jumped on the mats next to the Slaves of Allah.

The Imam that night was Shaikh `Abdullah Al-Qasim, who was known for making huffaz in one year from people who had no previous inkling about memorising. Listening to the recitation, just behind me I could hear light coughing of some of the brothers but I could also hear some hissing behind me.

The words were, “What are you praying for?! Stop it! What’s the point??!!” The hissing carried on through the prayer and I tried to ignore it with herculean presence of heart. Once the prayer had finished I turned to try to look at who was making that racket, but there was no one sitting in the direction where I looked.

“Did you hear that?” I turned to Bilal’s cousin, whose name is Hamid. “There was a guy whispering. I was starting to get angry with all that noise,” he seconded my thoughts. We then prayed the sunan ratibah after the prayer and went outside.

At the dome of Masjid un-Nabawi, we walked 2-500 feet away and sat in the plaza within the gates but far enough so as not to draw undue attention to ourselves. We began the dars of Imam Abu `Isa at-Tirmidhi, may Allah be pleased with him, with his biography and also some notes about how he was the successor of Imam al-Bukhari.

After that point, we read a selection of hadith from each chapter. We had made it through the first through chapters and sat in wonder at what was being recounted by the Imam. The more we read the more we marvelled.

Brother Uwais had also brought his sister and one of the other female Slaves of Allah and altogether there were some seven people there listening to the information that was description of the Prophet, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him.

We had completed the estimated number I had hoped for and just before closing the book we were speaking gently among ourselves. “Let’s break this thing up. Go pray. Go pray.” I looked up and saw a young religious police man with Doc Martin slippers and a walkie talkie and his name on it.

“Oh, has the Adhan for `Isha already come,” I asked innocently. He looked down at me and asked, “Did you hear the Adhan?” I shook my head in the negative, to which he responded, “Well then. Now you know. Now let’s break this up.” I turned to everyone and told them in English that we had to stop now.

Everyone could feel the atmosphere had changed but I did not want to upset anyone. I just remained quiet and prepared for `Isha. “Doesn’t Uwais look a lot like Usamah bin Laden, you know really Yemeni,” Hamid looked at him and grinned.

Uwais and Hamid traded words of dispute about his looks but I thoughtfully added, “I think Uwais looks like Uwais.” “Thank you!” Uwais was relieved to have put a line under the discussion. We prayed `Isha and upon completion headed back to the hotel room. We then headed to bed.

This was not before Al-Hajj `Ismah had somehow heated and cooled the room simultaneously and then in the aftermath of the atmospheric holocaust turned and seraphically announced that he was headed to Masjid un-Nabawi to great the Prophet, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him.

“Does anyone need anything?” His words left us drenched in sweat and fiddling with the climate control on the wall. This was absolutely unbelievable. In the next moment, the room was under control, we were in bed and asleep until two hours before fajr.

Down the steps, out of the hotel and onto the walkway, I was well on my way. The left turn in took less time to reach the Rawdah but I decided to take the long way around to build my resolve so I turned right instead.

Ah, yes. I was now on the tile floors, wearing my boots with socks rolled over, coloured jalabiyyah, black `imamah over black tarboosh with dark brown rida’ over my person. What a curious picture I must have cut for some onlookers. Now at the door of the gate, I removed my jack boots and put them in a bag and moved on with them.

Once inside, I started the same walk I had begun not much more than an eye blink before and lost the nerve. Every step I took, my breathe became shallow and I looked around for others also heading that way. This was reminiscent of the holy air that I felt in Makkah. This was another Masjid that Allah had set aside but it was greater in rank than all but Al-Masjid ul-Haram.

This location was greater than Al-Masjid ul-Aqsa and Qubbat us-Sakhrah, Quba’ and others. Five minutes later, I arrived in the line winding its’ way around the pillars and on the way. I had brought the seven line du`aa with me that Imam Mansur ibn Yunus al-Buhuti, may Allah be pleased with him, had quoted with chain of transmission from the Bedouin.

Here I was, a Bedouin, immigrant, homeless three times, a drop out from high school that had to get his G.E.D. and only then go to university, a reformed criminal, a thief, someone guilty of grand larceny and so many other negative adjectives that it was strange that the wearer of all these titles still insisted that he was a Muslim at the time.

I stood in line and felt happy that it moved slowly around the corner, snaking its’ way around the pillars. I saw another opposite to this holy atmosphere. The red and white checkered keffiyyeh, which had disgusted me for two decades, was now on display.

I remember when I first ran across this cult in the early 1990s when two brothers that I knew, Mustafa (who later took the sobriquet as-Salafi) and brother Khaled (who we had told not to rush off to Yemen but wait while we found a good place…but in his haste he ran of to Dammaj), had dived head long into it.

Being referred to as deviants and people of bid`ah and having salam withheld by brothers that we had originally held in high regard and vice versa was one of the most painful points in my life. The filth of Salafiyyah was spread from the old armoury gone masjid, Masjid Ahl us-Sunnah, in East Orange, New Jersey. These were heady times.

Names such as Abu Muslimah, Dawud Adeeb, Abu Usaamah, Usaamah al-Qoosi, Abul Hasan al-Halabi, Saleem al-Hilaalee as-Salafi and others were new names but we were equally despicable in our eyes. Masjid ur-Rahmah in New Jersey would later be used as a further launch pad for Salafiyyah.

On the West Coast, we saw the intrusion of the cult as spiritual paedophilia, targeting the young and vulnerable and then forcing them into positions. Indeed with each new convert, they would take pictures and then post them where other culprits (and even victims) could view the vile outpourings on “embracing the way of the salaf.”

In the beginning of my research into the cult, I merely thought that the problem was the Saudi State, Bin Baz, Uthaimin, Al-Albani, Hamoud at-Tuwaijiree, King Fahd and the monarchy and so forth. The information that I had found in Arabic books in the beginning had put across the assertion that Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab had been a reformer and his teachings were twisted.

Indeed some people of Orthodoxy at that time and today even said these words. I kept reading and stumbled across the writings and discussions of Muhammad `Abduh, Muhammad Rashid Rida’ and Sayyid Qutb and scholars denouncing it. Salafiyyah was an enemy to us and we fought it, both verbally and sometimes hand to hand when they came to our masjids.

We knew it when it appeared. Salafiyyah members appeared, women would be married, utilised and upon pregnancy receive a divorce. Those that did not would be used. The wicked of these diseases was what happened in 1997, when a lecture came fresh from East Orange, New Jersey, claiming as evidence a ruling from Ibn Hazm that if a man pronounced a divorce on his wife and then subsequently had sexual intercourse with her, this did not count as reconciliation.

Salafi members eager to implement this went to work straight away and cities such as Seattle, Los Angeles, Oakland, San Francisco, Stockton and Portland felt their sexual prowess and wrath along with a string of broken women, homes and broken hearted children who had to be told that their father would never return.

When I came to the United Kingdom, the same dirt was in London and gaining momentum in Leicester. Brixton, Bakersfield and other locations were inundated with the “Salafi da`awah.”

As I continued my studies that had begun years ago (and included ancillary study of the other cults, Ahmadiyyah, Shi`ah and Bahai alongside Salafiyyah), I was now finding a situation more disturbing. Originally, I had adopted the position that the problem with Salafiyyah was today and the people that twisted it.

All of these people today had gone away from the teachings and knew nothing of the true message of the man. All that needed to happen was to have a larger book to draw the points together.

However two things changed this thinking of mine altogether and permanently. `Abdur-Razzaq ash-Shayiji’s book, Al-Khutut ul-`Aridah Li Ad`iya’ is-Salafiyyat il-Jadidah and also reaching the literature of Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab and the response texts.

I knew three brothers that had a large amount of literature and allowed me to gain access to the most important works on belief by Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab, his sons and grandsons. There was also a shaikh I knew that had ad-Durar as-Sanniyyah by Imam Ahmad Zayni ad-Dahlan, the large multi volume Salafi response under the same title and numerous underlying texts.

The shaikh said to me that the Saudis were liars and criminals but that Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab had been a fool to allow himself to be tricked by them and put himself under their authority as almost autocratic emperors. It took me twenty weeks to wade through some 22 books written by Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab.

After this, I read Fath ul-Majeed (commentary on Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab’s Kitab ut-Tawhid), by `Abdur-Rahman ibn Hasan and Sulaiman ibn `Abdullah, both grandsons of the founder of the current incarnation of the Khawarij. This is when I began to see the picture emerge.

I felt lightheaded and sat quietly for a number of hours between `Asr and Maghrib in a London masjid where my brother, Ashraf al-Hindi, died on the same day I went through this literature and then reflected. The people in Brixton and other places, Bin Baz, `Uthaimin, Al-Albani, King Fahd and the others were not at all twisting the beliefs of Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab.

They were faithfully living by these teachings and acting them out to the letter and were completely devout in presenting these views. So then I was wrong about there being some disconnect. His books were all extant and the people who were his devotees had changed nothing of them. Unvarnished and pure in their original presentation of Muwahhidun thought, these books were really nothing more than kufr.

Suddenly, all of what I had witnessed of the group made sense and the pieces fell in place carefully. This cult had put such a hold over these people’s lives they felt that the only way to live faithfully was to gather together all those faithful to the teachings (jama`ah) denounce their detractors (takfir) and then flee to their own gatherings (hijrah).

I told the shaikh about it and he said to me, “Listen. Just wait. If you do this…when you do this, they are going to come for you. You better be ready.” He gave me a careful nod in the masjid office and I understood. I was placing my life in danger but also putting myself in public where they would try to destroy my individual person. They had learned this well from their master, Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab.

When I married, I still continued in the mission against all these groups but a brother pulled me to the side in 2000. “Akhi, I think you need to be careful. You’r e in a lot of trouble.” He stared at me and shook his head.

“What?” I was incredulous. I thought if maybe I owed him money or perhaps I had not given him salam one day. The brother was very particular about these matters and it had me thinking. “I had a dream about you.”

“If you start mentioning steamy scenes brother…I told you, get married, brother.” I tried to break the ice but he stared at me with an icy look. “I’m serious,” he raised his voice. We both sat and he narrated a dream to me.

He was inside of a tavern (read pub for the United Kingdom), but there were Muslims present there also. Large beards, some with jalabiyyah, some dressed like unbelievers but you could tell by the big beards that these people were Muslims. I walked in and the tavern transformed into a masjid and I began killing everyone in sight that came forward except the brother.

“I could just see heads getting cut, bodies stacking up on the floor. You just would not stop and they were having the heads cut clean off. Your clothes were only a little dirty. Besides that, you just continued. That’s what I remember.” He narrated a few other details. I was terrified and so was the brother.

We narrated the story to shaikh who listened and then he looked at me. “You are going to go to war with the people of bid`ah, a large war. Most of it will be Salafis but it will be all people of bid`ah. You be careful…be very careful.” I stood motionless,  not knowing fully what to say. “How?”

“Listen. Just do what you are going to do; but do not hesitate and always ask Allah for His help. The following years are going to be hard for you.” I only nodded and continued on my way. I was going to have to wait for this to all unfold.

In the blink of an eye, by 2004 the website was up and running, I had completed 41 lectures by 2005, taught in masjids, completed seminary work, by 2007, A Word of Advice was released and then hot on its’ heels was Divine Texts. The death threats that came to my PO Box, mail box at my house and e-mails and guest book on the website gave me pause for thought.

A loud but jovial argument with the webmaster by telephone led to the close of the guest book. “Brother Abu Ja`far, I don’t care what you say! What they said in that guest book was horrible. I’m taking it down. Sikhs threatening to rape you?  Salafis saying that you show your…you know what to your congregation every Friday before dhikr?!What is this?” I sought to console the brother.

“People need to see what these people do when they are questioned and the type of religion people really follow. These cults and false religions should be allowed to have their words put in front of the…”

“I can’t hear you right now. All I can hear is the guestbook going away…” the webmaster laughed. After 378 answered questions, the forum was closed down. All this happened before the books.

The books were the natural outgrowth of the fire that had started and what we were saying to the people. Stay Sunnis! Don’t join Salafiyyah! They are calling you away from where you are! Repent from your sin but don’t join their cult!

I came around the corner and stood almost face to face now with the cult that had the government and sections of the military with it. I still had the home court advantage, even under Saudi Salafi domination. I had the Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him as my guide.

Walking briskly past him, I took to a spot over near where the pillars to a musalla were located. I was right in front of the Rawdah and I gave my salam to the greatest human being that ever lived. I conveyed salam and well wishes from all the slaves I knew in Nottingham, London, Leicester, the domiciles of the West Coast in the United States and anyone else who had asked me to convey salam.

Salam was conveyed by myself to Abu Bakr as-Siddiq, `Umar al-Faruq, may Allah be pleased with them and was able to read the seven line du`aa with the chain of transmission from Imam Mansur ibn Yunus al-Buhuti, may Allah be pleased with him.

I could hear the satanic rustlings of the Salafi religious police in Arabic, English and Urdu, castigating the people there. One of the guards blatantly lied when he said, “There’s people that even come here and prostrate towards the grave.”

Firstly, there isn’t even enough room to prostrate towards the graves and the crowding would have crushed such a person. Secondly, where is the photographic evidence?

“People even sometimes make tawaf…” another one whispered into the air. How? There is no way to make a complete circle. What is more, how would you know if they are or not?

In spite of this, the moment could not be spoiled. I stood among so many people more worthy than me but I was glad to be in their company. A brief look over the grills into the darkness to satisfy curiosity made me turn back quickly. Would I want someone doing this to me while I was in my intimate moments with my Lord?  Just give the greeting and don’t make it a carnival.

Some Slaves of Allah were taking photos, posing and also filming using their phones as camcorders. I felt such happiness with what Allah had done with me. I again repeated me greeting and said the greetings from the others, not long after saying that I was trying to remain faithful to the people he left in charge of the Ummah and resist the people who truly hated him.

I felt like just explaining everything but I knew that soon I would be moved. I lastly just asked that he make du`aa for me and give me the courage, strength and health to continue and that he bless the Sunni people in Nottingham and give them help against falsehood.

My feet found their way out of the masjid and I was now outside looking in from the tile at the door. This was no time for male machismo. I was generally overwhelmed by it all and was glad Allah gave me the wherewithal to make it. Now it was time to head for the hotel and prepare for Jumu`ah.

I walked all the way up to Al-Masjid un-Nabawi and looked for the Badr Gate and quickly slipped inside. It was 8am and I was seated in the masjid with the nearest human being some 100 yards from me. I sat at peace and tranquillity and felt calm and then I remembered. I still needed to complete the 200 raka`ah that I had made as an oath to Allah for going to Hajj.

I stood up and over the course of a number of hours was able to complete some 78 raka`ah, leaving me with another 100 left to complete. I had done the first one hundred in Makkah and al-Masjid ul-Haram and hoped that I would have received the 100,000 reward for each prayer.

After I completed these 78 raka`ah, I decided to rest and stay in the Masjid and wait all day up until `Asr but a steady stream of people going in the same direction piqued my interest. I followed them and within ten minutes was at the Rawdah and could see the golden gates bearing the bodies of the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him, Abu Bakr as-Siddiq and `Umar al-Faruq, the two Shaikhs of Islam, may Allah be pleased with both of them.

Heaven and Earth stood still and I could hear the same dull rumble as that which I had witnessed at Al-Masjid ul-Haram in Makkah. However this was more of a hum, as if the inhabitants inside were making a low dhikr that was almost imperceptible to those gathered around.

I thought of how far I had come in my life in 20 years, everything I had done and not done. Names of dead friends, believers and unbelievers, ran through my head and I doubted myself. Why was I the one to be allowed all of this honour? Khalid `Abdur-Rahman, a Sudanese friend of mine, was by far more intelligent, had been through more and deserved more to be at this place.

What of Guy Washington, Raymond, Hiram, Caspar, Jose Flores and his wife, Gloria? Why should I be honoured by Allah and these people died as unbelievers or are alive and still not believers or are Muslims and have not been called yet?

And with all of this said and thought, I realised I had to turn back. I was not ready to be in the presence of these people. I would have to come back when I was ready. I did not know when, but not now. I slowly backed away and headed away from the area and briskly made my way back to the hotel.

“Brother Abu Ja`far,” one of my roommates called. I did not want to speak so I made my way around the corner and quickly disappeared up one of the back streets. I had to gain my composure and then I could speak to him. I did not want him to think something was wrong and have to explain my own inefficiencies in detail.

Some day when I was ready I would be able to make my way there…but not today. I didn’t even know if I would be able to do it during this visit. It was Thursday and I gave strong thought to cancelling the lessons on Imam at-Tirmidhi as I just did not feel 100% at all.

If I did not feel that I had the strength to visit the greatest human being that had ever lived, how could I do any other teaching? Although saddened by this, I still felt the great need to go there and visit at some point in the future.

I walked along the arcade area outside of the fencing of the compound of Al-Masjid un-Nabawi and pondered for a period of time. There was a shop that Allah directed me to and I stumbled inside the area.

I just looked across the bookshelves and notices that they had a good selection of books on the madhhab so I began looking. I had lost one volume of Al-Furu` that a brother had loaned me and was resolved to buy another.

The shopkeeper saw me and remarked, “Mauritania?” I smiled and chuckled. “No,” I replied in Arabic. “But you’re a student here? What are you looking for? I’m sure we have it.” “Kitab ul-Furu` by Imam Ibn Muflih.” He scanned the shelves and then went in the back.

“Ah, yes. Here it is here. Now this is a very good edition. They have included both the Furu` but the Tashih that Imam al-Mardawi did on the work to correct any rulings that might have been out of sync.” He and I then had the most interesting discussion about the text, its’ history and the Muqni` and its’ best commentaries.

“Are you on al-Muqni`?” I nodded. “Good, so you’ll memorise it?” He seemed very enthusiastic. “Just make du`aa that I do so,” I sort of half shrugged. “You’ll need this one and also the other commentaries to get a proper understanding once you are done. Are you using the Zad or the Dalil?”

“My framework is the Zad. That’s what I know best. I prefer the Zad.” He nodded and stacked the three volume set of Al-Furu`. Normally appearing in 11 volumes, this edition had small print but was also more expansive in terms of Al-Mardawi’s notes.

This would be very important as Imam al-Mardawi belonged to the last generation of Murajjihun so his understanding and also layout would be of the utmost use. I possessed his al-Insaf, so I had no need to be convinced of his genius.

I was given a discounted rate as the man said he would discount a student. Then after that I headed out the door with the jewels and sat on a stoop and looked at the sun go from a soft yellow to an angry red as the day progressed.

Now back at the hotel room, I added the books together. The brother would be happy once I presented the books to him. I could not find the fifth volume of al-Furu` I had lost and had given my personal word that I would return it in full if I could not find the other volume. A student of knowledge has to return his trusts, I thought.

I thought back numerous times, trying to remember where I might have put it but I had no idea. I really had lost the volume. When food time came, Al-Hajj `Ismah and the others insisted I come with them and enjoy some of the goop that was gazing back at us in the food pans.

I resolved to eat only things I could identify, pronounce and that were not submerged in a swamp of oil. Looking at the oily mixture, my heart warned me that it would trigger angioplasty signals immediately unless I backed away.

The other brothers at the table spoke while I continued to sit and reflect over my own life. I had thought about everything before, but being in Madinah amplified things. I had made it. I had survived; but why had I made it versus others who were more worthy? I knew I had to trust Allah in this regard.

Al-Hajj `Ismah chose me as the man to take him back to the room and look after him and observe his health. I saw no problem with this and enjoyed his company immensely. I sat on the bed and read, immersed in my own world. “You know, the main thing you have to understand is that you must not worry. Allah is in charge of all things.”

The words flowing from this white bearded sage about al-Harith al-Muhasibi, Bishr al-Hafi and others gave me food for thought but also encouraged me. Allah chooses whom He wills and uses any vessel for what He pleases, irrespective of how unworthy such a vessel may be in reality.

Once my mind was at ease, I made my intention to visit the sacred place on Friday. It was Thursday night before sunset and I read the dhikr and salam upon the Prophet, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him.

I was going to try to go see him tomorrow and I would still go ahead with the Tirmidhi dars. Let’ s get moving, I thought. I have to get moving. In the excitement of everything, I somehow managed to fall asleep.

“I don’t know. I checked the timetable for Madinah and it looks like Zuhr begins just after 1pm.” Al-Hajj `Ismah’s bed was conspicuously empty and bore no signs of exactly when he left for Al-Masjid un-Nabawi.

“Do we have any leftovers from what we brought from Makkah…you know the juices and salads?” I felt thirsty and was genuinely relieved when I made my way to the refrigerator and found there were some remnants of our past healthy snacks that we had consumed in Makkah.

Matloob could not help himself and just had to put on terrestrial television and take a peep. He would find nothing but programmes about Islam, recitation, the occasional Salafi ranting (I mean by this that he was actually red in the face shouting like some sort of Waffen SS veteran trying to increase the morale of his troops) and then there was just pure news.

Tanweer switched off the box using the remote. “Come on, we did not come all the way to Hajj and Madinah for the tele. Let’s do something else.” Matloob looked and only gestured. “Just checking what was on to see how the other half lives.” Tanweer nodded and we looked at each other.

There was the initial stop in the time-space continuum as all three of us stared at the bathroom door. Would we all try to go in at once and live by the law of the jungle or would we be civilised. We started smiling immediately.

“So how are we going to do this? Who’s in first?” Tanweer stared at me briefly. “You go in first. You’re closest to the door.” I felt it would be fine for him to go first and I could be patient. Being last meant that you had the place all to yourself.

And last I was…Matloob strolled out and promptly announced to me that if I was thinking of a shower I would have to wait for fresh towels. “Nevermind. I’ll just air dry,” I announced to the duo.

The shower room was just as palatial as our bathroom in Makkah. It was as large of the largest bedroom in my house back in the UK and thought this was the stuff of legend.

I tried to dress and put on my best clothes for the occasion and prepared myself. I came out and found that they were both reclining back on the bed and enjoying their time. We now found our way out of the building and exchanged some pleasantries with the desk staff.

The walk to the masjid was quiet and looking at our watches, could see that it was 1:30pm, but we had not heard the Adhan. It seems that the Adhan of Madinah was much softer and lighter on the tongue than the mighty blast we used to receive in Makkah.

It is at this point I would like to make a worthy observation. Makkah and Madinah were both equal in my eyes as you saw different things in each and each was noble in its’ own right. Makkah was the place where you saw the pure Holiness of Allah, his Taqaddus and Majd.

Such was this that people often feel that sense of terror and awe while at the Sacred Compound. The blasting heat of Makkah made you understand that this was the place where revelation first came, the home of prophesy, the place where the human race began once the Prophet Adam, peace be upon him, descended to Earth from the Paradise.

Madinah was where you saw the Mercy of Allah, His Rahmah, Fadilah and Sharaf. The cool wind, soft adhan, soft people and placid attitude were all signs of this mercy. I looked at the city and remembered that these same gentle people had been forced by invading Salafis to eat all the dogs in the city when there was a supply blockade from the stubborn cult.

We decided to break up and then meet back at the hotel and then maybe have a dinner together. “Remember to do as much du`aa as possible.” I nodded to Matloob and we parted ways. I was on my way to the entrance of the masjid and could see Arabs outside, both Badawi and Hadari, mixing and talking.

I went in without so much as even a look from the hirasah (security forces) and found a section of the masjid to call my own for the time being. I had missed Zuhr in jama`ah so the people were filing out or doing their sunan ratibah. One shaikh was teaching Maliki fiqh to some students quietly.

It was a pity as the Salafi establishment, in its’ monopolisation of the sacred area, stopped people from conspicuously teaching and left Imams having to behave like crack dealers when teaching Maliki fiqh and the like.

I prayed the greetings to the masjid, two raka`ah before Zuhr, Zuhr and then the two raka`ah after that. I had to be back at the room quickly because we needed to catch Al-Hajj `Ismah and taken him to the hospital to check how much damage had been done to his heart.

The ailing al-Hajj was full of ideas and quite buoyant for a man who had been laying on the floor in Mina on one fajr morning waiting for death. “Are we going?” Yes, we were going, I thought. We flagged down a taxi and a very calm Yemeni took us to the clinic and gave us dates on the way. Shaikh al-Husri blasted from the stereo and he talked about how happy he was to be living Madinah and would never leave.

He dropped as at Ash-Shifa Clinic and told us what to do and how to be booked into the clinic. Our 4:30pm arrival was good because waiting times were long. At 5pm we met an Indonesian woman that spoke fluent Arabic and advised that what we wanted to do could not be done there but would have to be done at the Al-Ansar Hospital.

We prayed Maghrib upstairs and prepared to make our way. I came up and found most of the people had finished. I was going to pray by myself when another man came in and we joined in together.

After the prayer, he was very friendly and happy to make my acquaintance. One of the doctors on site, he was also perceptive. “So what group did you come with?” I replied that I had come from the UK and had just been visiting. “You’re Hanbali?”

When I replied in the affirmative, he beamed. “So there are many there?” I remarked in the negative and that it is just a few but I was working with some to get works translated. The doctor was very excited about that and gave his final reply, “Allah accept it from you.”

After I came down the winding stairs, Tanweer and Matloob were waiting out side with Al-Hajj, who wanted to get checked and scanned as soon as possible. We were at Al-Ansar Hospital for 5:30pm and waiting at the door. We had to check in at the counter, twice.

Security swapped and we had to again state our purpose. Military men with rifles waited in the lobby and were also in the leisure rooms. The khaki suits made me want to laugh but I stifled it. I had to ask to see someone to get X rays and after some wrangling and raised eyebrows, we eventually reached an understanding.

I had never learned the medical language of Arabic so I had to learn off the cuff. I was fortunate that I had two doctors with me as they would explain the process and medical situations and in painstaking detail I would have to explain the situation.

They would after some time nod with understanding and then repeat the necessary Arabic equivalent and go through the technical situation. When we met the doctor, he was s tall, slim be speckled man who had an easy gait. The process of taking the X rays and our release sped up once we made his acquaintance.

At 8:30pm we had to call a cab to get back and easily found our way back to the hotel. So that by 9:30pm we were at our hotel door and Al-Hajj `Ismah said that he would rest and make sure he could get up before tahajjud.

Once we had changed into our sleeping clothes, we heard a thumping at the door. “Brother Abu Ja`far, it’s Uwais. May I come in?” I assented and opened the door and in slipped our tall compatriot.

“You know what we spoke about before, you know doing the Shama’il of Imam at-Tirmidhi. I was wondering if we could start it on this Friday. It’s Wednesday now so I wanted to give you some notice.” I recalled what we had discussed and agreed. “Great, so we’ll meet after Maghrib and begin.”

“Wonderful. So where should be do it? My room or yours?” I looked over and he gave me a quizzical look. “You didn’t know? I thought you knew that my sister, some brothers and I agreed to have it outside of Al-Masjid un-Nabawi, in the courtyard not far from the green dome.”

I immediately went on alert. “As long as you know the risks. I am not trying to collide with the Salafi police and everything. I just want to enjoy the city and relax after the hajj.” “So you think the deviants will try something?” Uwais raised his eyebrow and as I was formulating a response brother Mumtaz came in along with Saghir and `Irfan.

“Is it true about the dars on Tirmidhi after Maghrib on Friday?” I nodded but then offered a statement. “Let’s try it out and see and if anything happens we will have to move it or not do it.” “Agreed.” Uwais was in agreement and understood the risk we were taking.

I would just have to be prepared. After seeing them out and bidding farewell I reclined on my bed and thought about the fitnah that I could face and also the lies that Salafiyyah was known to do. If someone disagreed with them, they tried to discredit the person and in this way they would (in their own twisted and distorted reasoning) have answered the arguments or objections raised.

The only parallel I had for them was the Jehovah’s Witnesses, both carrying an air of knowledge and adherence to scripture. The difference is Jehovah’s Witnesses never claimed to be the only true Muslims and are generally pacifistic (Jehovah’s Witnesses were never called apostates by our scholars either).

Salafis on the other hand, kill detractors, slander questioners and refer to arguments against them as grave worship and such. We would see Friday what Salafiyyah would do. Allah, on the other hand, protects His Slaves and gives power to whom He wills.

Thank you for the books and the blog. I had some questions about divine lightning because I am speaking with some salafis and they have made some statements. They claim that Muhammad bin abdel wahhab never used to make takfir on everyone and he even denied that he did. They quote

“And Allah knows that the man has fabricated statements from me that I never said nor that ever occurred to my mind. This includes his statement that I said that the people

have not been on anything [of the truth] for six hundred years or that I declare as disbeliever the one who seeks closeness to Allah via the pious or that I declared al-Boosairi a disbeliever or that I declare the one who swears by other than Allah a disbeliever… My response to those issues is that I say, ‘Exalted be You [O Allah] this is great slander.’” Muallifaat, vol. 7, pp. 11-12.

They also say that he did not denounce the madhhabs and agreed with them and followed one. The salafi gave me a quote where he said

“We, and all praise be to Allah, are followers and not innovators, upon the school of Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal.” Muhammad ibn Abdul-Wahhaab, Muallifaat, vol. 7, p. 40.

“We are followers of the Book, the Sunnah, and the pious predecessors of the Nation and what is supported in the opinions of the four Imams, Abu Hanifah al-Numaan ibn Thaabit, Malik ibn Anas, Muhammad ibn Idrees [al-Shafi’ee] and Ahmad ibn Hanbal, may Allah have mercy on them.”

Wa `Alaikum us-Salaamu wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuhu,

Thank you for your reading of the book and may Allah reward you. I am glad to hear that you are reading through it. What I would say to you and every other reader – salafi or not – is to read the entire text through with its associated notes first. Then upon completion of the book to ask the questions.

I ask this because it may be that most of the questions you have asked will be answered by the author or in the notes that are at the bottom with references to what he said.

Now let us look at the quotes. All of these are coming from al-Mu’allafat, which means, “The authored works.” These are supposed to be collected writings that were put together after his death by his followers.

The problem is that these quotes were 100 years after the author. There are even other issues if we want to be specific. Let us look at each quote:

“And Allah knows that the man has fabricated statements from me that I never said nor that ever occurred to my mind. This includes his statement that I said that the people have not been on anything [of the truth] for six hundred years or that I declare as disbeliever the one who seeks closeness to Allah via the pious or that I declared al-Boosairi a disbeliever or that I declare the one who swears by other than Allah a disbeliever… My response to those issues is that I say, ‘Exalted be You [O Allah] this is great slander.’” Mu’allifaat, vol. 7, pp. 11-12.

Let’s put this next to statements that he has made that buttress this point. He said at one point,

“The best spoken word that could be said was the case of a Bedouin coming to us one day saying he had heard something about Islam. He said, ‘I bear witness that we were kuffar (he meant all the desert Arabs) and I bear witness that the guard who came to tell us about things is of the People of Islam’.

So the man bore witness that he was an unbeliever.” Majmu`at ut-Tawhid: Sharh Sittah Mawadi` min as-Sirah, pp.25-26.

This indeed shows that this creed was taught to the people. Further could be said by his son and first successor, `Abdullah Ala Shaikh, who stated:

“Indeed, major shirk has become the norm for most of these people due to ignorance spreading and knowledge disappearing.” Al-Kalimat un-Nafi`atu fil Mukaffirat il-Waqi`ah, pp.15-16.

There is further evidence for Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab’s theology and beliefs when we mention a few more points. It was mentioned by Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab:

“It has been explicitly stated that idolatry would happen in this Ummah to the vast throngs of the people. The good news is that the truth will always be present, even as it has been in the past.

There will always be a small group upon it. The great sign is that even though people may oppose, abandon or kill them, it will not harm them, and this state will remain until the Hour is established.

It was prophesied that there would be a Victorious and Aided Group upon the truth, which has already happened, just as was foretold.” Kitab at-Tawhid (Ar.), pp.48-49, mas’alahs 7-12.

`Abdur-Rahman ibn Hasan, one of the successors of The Brotherhood movement, made this clear when he gathered the opinions of his grandfather and uncles together then commented:

“So this tribulation of worship of idols was brought about, to the point that no one in these later ages knew that they were supposed to reject it.

This was the case until shaykh ul-Islam Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab, may Allah have mercy on him, established that worship of idols was to be repudiated and forbidden. He forbade idol worship.

He then called the people to leave it, to worship Allah alone in His Lordship, Divinity, Names and Attributes.” Qurrat `Uyun il-Muwahhidin, pp.125-126.

We thus know for a fact that Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab taught the theology regarding the Ummah, their being in idolatry, how long they have been in idolatry, that one must bear witness against himself and his ancestors have committed idolatry and so forth.

We know this from the works quoted above which encompass his works, those of his sons and grandsons, those who took from him directly or took from those who took from him. This counts as primary and secondary evidence. There are also those who were enemies of his that state virtually the same thing.

This therefore counts as proof and establishes a historical reality for the time period. There is the second quote:

“We, and all praise be to Allah, are followers and not innovators, upon the school of Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal.” Muhammad ibn Abdul-Wahhaab, Muallifaat, vol. 7, p. 40.

“We are followers of the Book, the Sunnah, and the pious predecessors of the Nation and what is supported in the opinions of the four Imams, Abu Hanifah al-Numaan ibn Thaabit, Malik ibn Anas, Muhammad ibn Idrees [al-Shafi’ee] and Ahmad ibn Hanbal, may Allah have mercy on them.”

But what does he mean by this following? How is he respecting the Imams and revering them? How does he go about doing this? We can go to the one who said the aforementioned words himself. Please read the following:

Also remember this statement of his,

“Most of what is in The Satisfaction and The Uttermost Boundary contradicts and opposes the madhhab of Imam Ahmad and his explicit statements and more so the explicit statements of the Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him, so whoever knows that indeed knows it and whoever does not, does not know.”

He said at another point, “The same holds true for the books of the latter day scholars of the other madhhabs.” Hashiyat ur-Rawd il-Murbi`, vol.1, pp. 17-18.

This man has nothing to do with the madhhabs, Hanbali or otherwise. If he does not accept the books, then he also will not accept their authorities, living or dead.

This was made absolutely clear when Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab told two of his harshest critics, Imams `Abdullah ibn Dawud al-Basri and `Alawi al-Haddad:

“The Shari`ah is one. What is wrong with these people who have made it into four madhhabs?

Here we have the Book of Allah and the Sunnah of the Messenger of Allah. We do not act except by these two things. We do not take our orders or obey the judgements of the people of Sham, Egypt, India or anyone else for that matter.”

Imam `Abdullah ibn Dawud al-Basri said: “He was referring to the scholars of the Hanbali School and the other schools as well.”

As-Sawa`iq war-Ra`ud fir-Raddi `al ash-Shaqi `Abdul `Aziz ibn Sa`ud, chapter 2; Misbah ul-Anam, pp.129-130, respectively. This same claim was repeated to Imam Zayni Dahlan (1232-1308 AH (AD 1816-1890) only some years later by the successors of the movement’s founder. Please see Imam ad-Dahlan’s ad-Durar as-Sanniyah fir-Radd `al al-Wahhabiyyah, pp.44-45.

And further to this, if we take the apocryphal statements attributed to Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab as proof and disregard what is historically established, how do the advocates of Salafiyyah reconcile the mu’allafat that they quote as proof with another text where Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab remarks,

“I, praises be to Allah—neither calling to a Sufi way, fiqh or theological school. Nor am I calling to any of the Imams that I hold in high regard, be it Ibn al-Qayyim, adh-Dhahabi, ibn Kathir or others for that matter.

Rather, I call to Allah alone, who has no partners, and I am calling to the Sunnah of the Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him, which he advised his Ummah from the beginning to end to follow and hold onto strictly.

I hope that I never reject any truth that should come to me. In fact, I call to witness Allah, His angels and all of His creation that if any word of truth should come to me from him I should then accept it with a complete submission.

I should completely discard any statement from my Imams that contradicts it—this is the same for everyone except the Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him, who only spoke the truth.” Al-Mu’allafat, vol7, pp. 250-252

That he sees himself as an absolute mujtahid to independently interpret the texts is discernible both from his writing style and how he saw himself. And what is more, merely claim to something does not mean someone’s membership to it.

Early Ahmadiyyah and Ahl ul-Hadith (the jama`ah in Patna) both claimed to be real Hanafis as did the Salafi Bengalis Hajj Shariatullah and Titu Mir. However we know that their theology and actions had nothing to do with the Hanafi school.

Sources cited: The Wahhabi Movement in India, pp. 21-32; 42-45; Muslim Societies in Transition, pp. 44-45; History of the Fara’idi Movement in Bengal, pp. 1-5; 6-12; 13-15; also see pp. xxxvii-liii of History of the Fara’idi Movement in Bengal

Abu Bakr Bashir and the Jameah Islameah in Indonesia (a splinter from the first Salafis who came in the beginning of the 20^th century) claim to be the real Shafi`iis yet we know that they have more in common with Betty Crocker than the fiqh of Imam Ash-Shafi`ii or his school.

Sources cited: Buhuth Nadwah Da`wat ish-shaykh Muhammad ibn Abdul-Wahhab, vol. 2, pp. 391-422, Riyadh: Muhammad ibn Sa`ud University, 1991,

As-Sa`iqah (the Lightning Bolt) and SGPC (Salafi Group for Propagation and Combat), Salafi groups from Morocco and Algeria respectively, both claim to be the proper Malikis.

Source cited: Ramadan 1423 comminique on Our `Aqeedah (Ar. `Aqidatuna) and also As-Saif ul-Battar (written by the GIA-Armed Islamic Group, which SGPC splintered off from)

Yet they know nothing of the school of Imam Malik except what their imaginations tell them. They don’t study accurately, memorise or implement yet they are entitled, nay obliged to give opinions.

The Mu`tazilah, including those that tortured  scholars like Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal, from Ibn Du’ad all the way to the executioners and inquisitors in the Inquisition, claimed to be Hanafis, so much so that the Imams denounced them as having disgraced their madhhab.

Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal, may Allah be pleased with him, said of the Hanafis in his time,

“The People of Ra’ii are a group of astray innovators and enemies to the Sunnah and Authentic Narrations. They negate the Hadith and refute the Messenger, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him.

They have taken claim of Abu Hanifah and whoever speaks with his words as an Imam for them and judge by their religion. Every astrayness is clear from the one who spoke in this way.

So the one who has done this, has he then truly left the words of the Messenger and his Companions and gone to the words of Abu Hanifah and his companions. Sufficient is the state of such a person to show their wrong doing, evil and transgression.”

Source cited: Tabaqat ul-Hanabilah, vol.1, pp. 36-37

Jarullah Az-Zamakhshari claimed to be Hanafi and said that parts of the Qur’an were from the Angel Jibril, peace be upon him; but he is denounced today.

Mansur al-Hallaj, executed by the command of Imam Junaid al-Baghdadi, may Allah be pleased with him, for idolatry, claimed the Hanafi madhhab; but they recognised no part of him at all in connection to themselves.

Imam `Abdul Qadir al-Jilani, may Allah be pleased with him, denounced the Hanafis in his area in his time, as they were all Mu`tazilah. He said of them,

“As far as the Hanafiyyah are concerned, they were a group among the followers of Abu Hanifah An-Nu`man ibn Thabit. They professed the doctrine that faith is the recognition and acknowledgement of Allah and His Messenger, and of everything, as a totality, that has come to us from His Presence.”

Source cited: Al-Ghunya Li-Talibi Tariq il-Haqq, vol.1, under the chapter, Al-Murji’ah (Ar.); Sufficient Provision for Seekers of the Path of Truth, vol.1, pp. 425-426

The reason for this is that up until the early Ottoman period, in the Muslim west, Hanafis were almost always Mu`tazilah; but in the Muslim east, they were upon the Orthodox creed due to the valour and bravery of Imam Abu Mansur al-Maturidi and other scholars of repute.

Those cultists who claimed the madhhab were not from it for the most upright advocates did not accept their pledges and claims. The same holds true for any cult.

Yusuf al-Qardawi claims to be Hanafi but he is denounced continually as he has nothing to do with the fiqh. The same counts for Mahmud Shaltut who said that the Prophet `Isa is dead and will not return, mortgages are compulsory and that democracy is from Islam.

Source cited: Al-Fatawa, pp. 58-60 under the chapter, Was `Isa Raised or Is he Dead?

So in ending, it is not always important what you claim, but what you truly are in reality. If you claim to belong to something and the people who are the heads and leaders of that outfit state that you are not, then you simply are not.

Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab’s name only appears in Salafi literature. Any of the literature in Arabic that is an independent eye witness account, his name does not appear under any scholar lists. The few times it does appear in literature, it is negative.

So to state again, Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab, as mentioned by 60 scholars in their response literature, is a false teacher, false prophet and the scholars rightly fought him. Salafiyyah, to buttress its claims, needs to bring independently verifiable proof of his credentials.

Salafiyyah is unable to do this; but why should they. It should be every Salafi’s goal to stop following and being devoted to the wrong Muhammad and follow the right one.

And with Allah is every success,

Brother in Islam,

Al-Hajj

He seemed quite serene but was still very adamant on dying in Madinah. Our driver was a noble looking man from Sham.

I watched one man from our group step forward and snake his hand around me with the Urdu nasheeds and ask the driver to insert them. Please, Allah. Not here.

Not this despicable droning, the Satanic rustling of voices that will break our tranquillity. Please, Allah. Not here. The driver looked back at me briefly while at a stop light with the nasheeds just pumping away.

I could feel his relief when they failed and the disk skipped and did not function. The devilment of the filth had stopped.

I went into my bag and presented a recitation of Shaikh Mahmud Khalil al-Husri, may Allah have mercy on him, before another cassette or CD could be mustered. He looked at the tape and then at me. “Al-Qur’an…al-Husri.”

He smiled and slid the tape in straight away. I was so happy I could not contain it and smiled out the window.

The driver gave a murmured masha’allah and continued the drive. We were well into Maghrib and the redness of the shafaq was disappearing.

Once that redness was gone I was going to combine Maghrib and `Isha. The driver, who I suppose I can just call Shukri for the sake of familiarity, wheeled the bus with such ease I was amazed.

The grey goose was huge and reminded me of buses I would see on the West Coast taking people either to the county jail, 48 hours or juvenile hall.

At first we had plenty of space in the road; but as we carried on with our 12 hour journey and came off the freeway onto city streets, it was crowded. The bus stood, engine running, unmoving for some two hours. Shukri turned off the engine to conserve gasoline.

I could still hear Imam al-Husri reciting and the calmness in his voice was soothing. While we had time, I tried to get off the bus to pray my Maghrib and `Isha combined. However I could not. I was merely getting into position next to one of the bus tires when Shukri called out and the engine roared.

I had to wait. Fine. I will get back on. I will do it later. “Sorry, Akhi. The traffic just clears up and then it starts moving again.” I liked Shukri. His manners and behaviour were noble and he had a good character. One older brother next to me asked me to translate to the driver that the air conditioning should be on.

“No, no. Tell him it’s cold.” The whole journey I had dealt with people that had not even tried to use Arabic. It was always the same culprits. I was not going to do it any longer. “What’s going on?” The driver looked back at me.

“You tell them. You need to learn Arabic. I’m not going to carry you any more. You should have learned a long time ago. If you want to have him do something, you tell him.”

I excused myself from Shukri and moved to the back near Matloob and Tanweer so as to be closer than them. Let them flounder around, I thought. They don’t even try to use Arabic. They don’t even make an effort.

I thought back to the terminal in Jeddah when some Muslims, exasperated that English was not the universal language (and perhaps that some people knew it but did not want to speak it in their own country-which actually has its’ own language) said, “English…do you speak English?”

I was tired of this laziness. Rolling my body towards the window I snuggled up and tried to sleep off some of my tiredness. “Brother Abu Ja`far. Wake up.” I looked over bleary eyed at the meaty hands of Matloob gesturing and nudging me. “Are we in Madinah.” I looked out the window and looked for the dome and did not see it.

“No, but we need to have some food and drink. We’ve been travelling for some time. We’ve reached a rest stop. Do you need the toilet?” I shook my head in the negative and made friends with the window again.

I heard Shukri asking me, “Akhi, do you want coffee.” I again shook my head in the negative. “No thank you. It’s makruh.” He laughed. “Tea?” I shook my head again. “No, I am fine. That too is disliked. I’m not thirsty.” “Hanbaliyyan,” he said humorously and disembarked from the bus.

Some Shamis and Egyptians often used the expression to refer to someone that they thought was puritanical or strict. They meant it tongue in cheek so I never took any offence. I drifted off again.

We came to the next rest stop. Now I was thirsty and needed to freshen up. Coming off the bus, I saw a Bedouin encampment not far from the Arab restaurant and then there was a tiny masjid. Yes, I’ll pray here. I prayed Maghrib and `Isha together. It felt so good to discharge my duty with Allah.

I spied brother Uwais coming my way and smiling. We exchanged greetings and then looked around. “This place is amazing isn’t it. Even the freeway has remembrance of Allah.” My eyes felt misty at his mentioning this point.

All along the freeway, every 100-300 feet were signs reading: Subhanallah. Another 300 feet: Al-Hamdu lillah. Another 300 feet: La ilaha illallah. Another 300: Allahu Akbar. And on and on.

There were supplications for ascending and descending. I was exultant. I grew up seeing signs with gang graffiti, bullet holes or blood spatters. What a difference the faith makes.

I wondered about the emigration of my tribe and how I would have grown up if we had just stayed in Central America or Cuba. Would I have grown up the same way and suffered the same horrible trauma I did on the West Coast?

Allah only knows the answer to that question. Uwais treated me to a fruit drink in the restaurant and one of the men approached us. “Yemeni?” He looked at us and pointed at Uwais as well. I grinned.

Uwais gets mistaken for just about everything but his racial origin. I find it humorous. Yemeni is my favourite. His tall languid frame does give the appearance of Yemeni. I told the man that he was not and explained about his origins, which brought a laugh.

Not just content with a drink, Uwais also bought what appeared to be a whole baby chicken. He got out the door with it before a swarm a people from our group clawed and gnawed at the carcass of the beast. One would have thought he was watching an episode of Wild, Wild World of Animals.

“Are your sister and mother fine?” He nodded to me. “I think they just want to get to a room and rest. They must be really tired. You know, with all the bumps and cracks in the road on the journey.”

“Yallah!” Shukri shouted after taking a final sip from his tea and revving the engine of the bus and giving the air shocks a hearty thrust. Uwais and I exchanged greetings and separated into our groups, I made my way to but 45, no 1 and he headed to 45, no 2.

From what our group leader was telling me, our stay in Madinah would be at the Wasal ar-Reem hotel. I had never seen it so I trusted his judgement and prepared for an interesting sleep.

When I heard the driving saying that we were lost in Arabic, I merely thought that he meant the ride was long, but no…we were actually lost. Bus no 1 had pulled ahead in the move on the freeway ahead of us and then disappeared into the distance. We had no way to communicate.

Shukri knew the way but he did not know where in Madinah we were to stay and which quarter. I got our group leader on the phone and handed it to Shukri. The bus revving under his foot on the gas peddle, Shukri nodded, smiled grimaced and upon completion of the call handed the phone back to me.

He now knew but still had to arrive into the city and wait for Muhammad Ishaq. When we heard that brother Muhammad Ishaq would be waiting to guide us, Matloob, Tanweer and I all immediately fell into laughter.

It was the same Muhammad Ishaq who speaking Arabic, Urdu, Bengali or English sounded the exact same. He was such a wonderful brother but he just made us laugh by how quickly he would speak and gesture his hands as if always in a panic.

Muhammad Ishaq knew that we found it funny and would often give a greater performance for our added benefit and alleviation from tiredness or boredom. How we would greet him in Madinah. Meanwhile the Deobandi/Berelwi issues started up in the bus while we were in the back.

I was happy I had never grown up in that situation. “It’s really sad. They have ruined Islam in the subcontinent. This is all they do.” Tanweer looked out the window as the freeway lights shimmered off his face, giving him a wistful expression.

“Which one?” Matloob looked over. “All of them. They make my stomach turn.” Tanweer’s statement made me laugh for some reason. Here was a Muslim brother who was a doctor, Pakistani born in the UK of the Jat caste but sickened by all the other foolishness.

He was part of a growing breed of people who were sickened by the Deobandi/Berelwi groups, both of whom had worked together to single-handedly disgrace the Hanafi madhhab in India, Bangladesh, Pakistan.

This contributed to the ruination of anyone in UK every learning Hanafi fiqh in the UK or other Asian dominated areas as this was always brought up and then people would be shunned.

These throwbacks to British colonialism had done more to undermine Islam and stimulate the growth of Ahmadiyyah, Ahl ul-Hadith and Salafiyyah than Christian missionaries, brother Matloob had told me over dinner one night in Makkah.

The only way I reckoned this thing could be resolved would be through some violent takeover and then have a method of religion forced upon them that would eradicate all other ways and means.

We sat calmly on the bus in silence for hours, shuffling and bumping down a long, straight road to Madinah.

I could tell that the Saudi government (if they had indeed ordered or played a part in the laying of the asphalt on the road) had taken generously from the Americans.

The roads were wide and spacious with the familiar West Coast shaped signs that were just translated into Arabic. Even the freeway signs and the angular shape of the words were taken from the Interstate-5 and other US structures.

The horizon became lighter the closer we came to Madinah. There was a gust of wind and a light rain that pelted the bus on our turn into Madinah’s fair streets. Palm trees abounded and the people walking on the street gave us no more than a second look.

We came to a stop and looked around. The driver called me and said that he needed a call made to our group leader to come get us.

We were indeed lost and were waiting for our other bus to link up with us. It took two hours before Muhammad Ishaq materialised. Brothers began to come off the bus and prepare for Fajr.

The driver came next to me. “Let’s pray, akhi. Don’t worry. I’m Shafi`ii…and Ash`ari.” He had known by reservations and hatred for the one cult whose name I had not spoken as of yet.

We placed a scrape of cardboard on the dusty Madinan streets and prayed with him leading. His tajwid was very well patterned and he prayed with all the manners of the Sunnah. After Fajr we were guided by Muhammad Ishaq to the hotel and told to choose our rooms.

I went out and gathered our things with a haggard looking Matloob and Tanweer. I staggered about for the first five minutes but was no longer dazed as we worked with effort to pull our luggage from the roof and organise it in front of the hotel door.

We moved inside of the hotel and the group leader stood smiling, assigning us our rooms. We made our way to the room, no 220 and opened the door. The air conditioning was already on and the television blazing. Al-Hajj `Ismah had dug his heels into the place.

“Brothers, you know I was waiting for you to come. Shall we get some rest?” We merely nodded and unpacked our things and switched into our sleeping jalabiyyat. Like lightning I was in the bed and after the du`aa for sleep entered the dead zone.

Then in the next instant, he was gone, the door swinging back and forth in the wind of the air conditioning and the smell of the two day old greasy dahl wafting in and out of the room and making me queasy. “We better get ready,” Uncle Muhammad looked at us and gave a confirming gaze to brother Matloob.

Matloob, after surrendering to the dark side and having chicken and chips, was still ill from his indulgence not to mention the groin injury he aggravated on the walk to `Arafah from Mina. Madinah would be a welcome rest for him.

Tanweer looked around and added thoughtfully, “We should get one last round of salad and fruit. Get ourselves readied up.” It was my turn to buy so I handed over the riyals that had King Fahd emblazoned on them.

Tanweer, Uncle Muhammad and I were off and headed to the market for the last time. We purchased our fruit and vegetables, water, juice and a few bags in preparation for the long haul to Madinah.

Some of the shopkeepers gave us a discount as we would be leaving soon. I stopped at the shop playing recitation of the Qur’an next to our hotel.

I purchased a few sets from the late Shaikhs `Abdullah al-Khulaifi, Mahmud Khalil al-Husri and the current great shaikh, Majdi Salim and a few other great reciters from Qatar and the like.

I visited the Maktabah Anas ibn Malik and thanked the shopkeeper for his assistance in finding Hidayat ur-Raghib and a pocket size Ar-Rawd ul-Murbi`. Effusive as ever and pumping my hand with enthusiasm, he mentioned that if Allah wills we would meet again.

I went back to the hotel room and waited for the rest of the day after packing my things and doing a quick inventory of my property, money and other valuables. I removed the hajj bracelets that I had been required to wear by the Ministry of Hajj endowments and looked over my phone again.

It was still on Jawal network and the Saudi ministry piped out messages of thanksgiving for `Eid and even thanking the people who came out for the Hajj.

Zuhr came but without the buses being present. They had been delayed by the heavy traffic according to what our group leader mentioned; but we should still be ready as any minute the buses could come and we will cut out just as quickly as they arrive. Tanweer approached me.

“Here’s what we will do. We’ve got all the things downstairs, right?” I nodded in assent. “You get aboard and save some seats for us and we’ll make sure that everything will be hauled up and put on the roof and fastened down. This way by the time we get on we’ll have seats.”

“No problem,” I answered back. Some of the those in our group for whatever reason had forgotten to make the Final Tawaf and this irked our group leader, who was already under pressure to make deadlines and meet requirements.

“If the buses come while you are gone and we board…we will have to leave you if you do not come back in time,” he gave them an even look. In moments they were gone up the pathway to Al-Masjid ul-Haram from the Funduq al-Mass’a.

Just as Allah would have it, the buses came lumbering around the corner ten minutes later. There would be another delay as one of the buses was still navigating through traffic and some of Makkah’s move inhospitable alleyways. Making pleasant conversation, we were then presented with our only obstacle as roommates since staying there…where is the key?

I had turned in one copy and there was a spare that was also present but with whom no one knew. The desk staff would need it for inventory and to report back to their seniors. We searched the beds, under the beds, the refrigerators, under the countertops, the carpets, the bathrooms.

Where could it have gone? Moments later, Uncle Muhammad produced the key. He had a penchant for having the key as he used to frequently go on walks at night in Makkah and come back late.

He had forgotten that he had it on his person and quickly turned it in at the front desk. The staff were now relieved and I gave salaam to the Sudanese and Makki staff and our Bengali chief of laundry.

The hard feelings between Tanweer and the youngster had worn off. I believe that it had started when I gave him 11 pieces of clothes and he charged me 20 riyals for the service. Brother Tanweer gave 5 pieces and paid double. When he found this to be the case, he was slightly vexed.

“Well, it can’t be racial. I’m Egyptian and both of you are Asians. So it must be something else. Do you think it’s because you are Jat?” He and I laughed at the situation but he did not know why he had received the higher rate.

In addition to this, the stout little Bengali was not giving any answers either other than the fact that this is the rate that was given to him by superiors.

At the end of the Hajj, it was gone that Tanweer could shake his hand and move on from that unfortunate set of circumstances. I thought that this was proof of his sincerity in the Hajj and the matters that surrounded the matter with all of the worship that he had done and how faithful he had been through the whole thing.

I found my way aboard the first bus and took the seats and chose those for Tanweer and Matloob. My eyes felt heavy watching the Makki people move by and the Hujjaj climb onto their transport.

Over the past 4,000 years, since the Prophet Ibrahim, peace be upon him and Dhul Qarnain, who as one of the four kings over the earth at the time, came with him, millions more people have found their way to Makkah and to Al-Masjid ul-Haram, where 70 prophets are buried, not to mention Our Mother Hajirah and Prophet Isma`il.

I could now count myself as one of them. The bus was now readied up and all was right with the world. Tanweer and Matloob gave me encouraging smiles and we were now on the way out of Makkah; but then something happened. Our Hajj leader arrived and moved us to bus no. 2, sat in the very back with Al-Hajj `Ismah who had fallen ill in Mina.

We were also slated to be his roommates as well for obvious reasons. If he did another somersault in his health, I would have to translate and Matloob and Tanweer as doctors would give medical attention. He had come back from the hospital in Mina 6 hours earlier than he was supposed to and there was discussion on airlifting him back to the UK.

Al-Hajj `Ismah would have none of it and had his own ideas. He upheld his health just long enough to get to Madinah and…then. “Well, I will die there, if Allah wills,” he raised his hands while a smile and clear hope in his eyes. He wanted to be buried in Jannat ul-Baqi`.

Now on bus no. 2 and with a man praying for death, Matloob, Tanweer and I knew that it was going to be some bus ride. We had boarded at 5:10pm but delays had caused us to stay behind and pray `Asr.

My intent was to combine Maghrib and `Isha on the way. Once the bus pulled out into the snail’s pace traffic, I knew I had 12 hours to consider what Madinah might be like. Pulling out Hidayat ur-Raghib, I snuggled in with the great marja`, Imam Ibn Qa’id an-Najdi and looked ahead at the coming sunset.

Dear Slaves of Allah,

Yet again, we have seen the kufr of universalism spreading. This time it has been done by members of Jama`ah Ahle Sunnat, which is not much different to that which was done by the Deobandis.

This is not to mention helping and advising Muslims to involve themselves with earthly rulers and their demonic policies.

It is for this reason that we released the original documents so long ago. These things were not because of any intelligence on our part; but they were proof positive of what was bound to happen if one embraces democracy, human rights and unlimited application of the concept of ‘human brotherhood.’

Likening Revealed Law to Earthly Laws is Kufr

Interfaith is kufr

Universalism of Religions is Kufr

The Mardin Fatwa is Falsehood

It is for the writer to merely ask Allah that He accept the slave as having said what should have been said to the best of his ability. It is also in this difficult time that we ask the Slaves of Allah to protect themselves from the wickedness of equalising all religions. Amin.

Only Allah has the Might and Power to give us the true Success, in this Life and the Hereafter.

Was-Salaam,

Al-Hajj Abu Ja`far al-Hanbali

All the ahadith on the virtues of Sham include this swatch of land inhabited by the Palestinians. I have wanted to write on this for a while but realising that if I did so it would be several volumes I thought better and decided to give just a taster to the reader.

Out of all the Arabs, this group fascinated me the most. In the US, coming from an Egyptian background, I had only seen them as drug dealers; but later I would realise what Allah did with this tiny people.

Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal, may Allah be pleased with him, said of the Khawarij and mentioned the rank of the Arabs, “All these are Khawarij, rebellious sinners who oppose the Sunnah and have exited the religion.

They speak of the Arabs and free men as having the same ruling, and they believe that the Arabs have neither right nor rank, and they do not love them but hate them. They show deep hatred, envy and enmity towards them in their hearts.

This is an evil statement innovated by a man from the people of Iraq. He was followed be a small group of people and the curse was upon him.” Tabaqat ul-Hanabilah, vol.1, pp. 35-36

I quote this at the outset knowing that some people may claim that I am only saying this and being partial to these words as I am an Arab. However, I ask for two things:

1)      to realise that what I am saying has to do with the people of Sham (and to some extant the Arabs of Iraq) while I am Egyptian.

2)      Let us not look at emotions but look at the reality. The Arabs do have a rank and are a prophetic people. Prophets have come through this people the Last Khalifah, Al-Imam ul-Mahdi, peace be upon him, shall come through these people. The khalifah of the Muslims is to be from Quraish, which is from the Arabs. None of this is accidental.

As I said, I find out of all the Arabs those noble scholars that have and do come from Iraq and Sham. It is also these very ones who shall have High Ranking Saints (Abdal) that will come give Al-Imam ul-Mahdi, peace be upon him, the oath of allegiance in Makkah.

However, I just wanted to look at some of the great people from the Palestinians and how they have changed our lives and still change our lives. Let us praise Allah in this month of Ramadan and remember the ahadith about the virtues of Sham.

Imam `Abdul Ghani ibn `Abdul Wahid al-Maqdisi (d. 600 AH) is one of the great scholars of hadith, coming from Jamma`il, a section of Nablus. He memorised 700,000 ahadith, putting him in the same club as Imams Ibn Rajab, Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani.

These were the only men that could have sat in Imam Ahmad’s night classes that he had with Imams Abu Bakr al-Athram, Harb al-Karmani. These were also some of the few men who could say they saw the top of the Imam’s head when he went to sleep. This Imam used to pray some 300 raka`ah a day nafl just out of praise to Allah.

The text `Umdat ul-Ahkam has had commentaries written on it by all schools and is enjoyed the world over for taking ahadith on rulings agreed upon by Imams al-Bukhari and Muslim and putting them under one heading. This was a noble man indeed.

One cannot mention Palestinians without mentioning the cousin of the above, Imam Muwaffaq ud-Din Ibn Qudamah (d. 620 AH), may Allah be pleased with him.

The Banu Qudamah were a virtuous clan and his sisters, Rabi`ah and Sayyidah, were also scholars in hadith. Imam Muwaffaq ud-Din is noted for having known 400,000 ahadith.

His fiqh series is the most exhaustive and yet concise among the Muslims. The fourth book in the series, Al-Mughni, is without equal and nothing comparable has been written like it. Both armchair scholars and serious researches refer to its’ pages.

Both Imams Muwaffaq ud-Din Ibn Qudamah and `Abdul Ghani al-Maqdisi were successors of Imam `Abdul Qadir al-Jilani, may Allah be pleased with all of them, taking the ways and principles back to Sham from Iraq.

It is often quite strange that phoneys and charlatans today who claim to be Qadiris in Tariqah do not have the actual main khulafa’ in their chain.

There are also the brothers Imams `Imad ud-Din Ibn Qudamah and Abu `Umar Ibn Qudamah (d. 607 AH) and the nephew of Imam Muwaffaq ud-Din, Imam Shams ud-Din Ibn Qudamah (d. 682 AH) who wrote an exquisite commentary in fiqh known as Ash-Shafi (also referred to as Ash-Sharh ul-Kabir).

We also most remember the Ibn Muflih family. We have Shams ud-Din Ibn Muflih al-Maqdisi (d. 763 AH), whose text al-Adab ush-Shari`iyyah, I had the pleasure of teaching over two years.

No one who attended that class speaks to me except about the possibility of a repeat of the class or the publishing of the translation. Shams ud-Din Ibn Muflih’s text, Kitab ul-Furu`, is another classic in fiqh that is unrivalled.

This would remain the case until Imams `Ala’ ud-Din Al-Mardawi (d. 883 AH), Burhan ud-Din Ibn Muflih (d. 885 AH) and Ibn Qundus came on the scene and changed things with their commentary notes, those being Al-Insaf, Al-Mubdi` and al-Mukhtasar respectively.

And who could forget the Ibn `Abdul Hadi family? Particularly there is Imam Ibn al-Mabrid (d. 909 AH), who was the first one to declare Imam Ahmad ibn `Atwah the first general qadi over the whole of Arabia;

but before him we could mention Imam Jamal ud-Din Ibn `Abdul Hadi (d. 744 AH) who wrote the most complete primer on the Qadiri Tariqah besides the Imam (`Abdul Qadir al-Jilani, may Allah be pleased with him) himself.

Imam Jamal ud-Din also wrote a very balance and fair text, Manaqib ul-A’immat il-Arba`ah, a slim but useful text on the life of the four Imams and their knowledge.

Still more could be said of Imam Sharaf ud-Din Musa ibn Ahmad al-Hajjawi (d. 968 AH), another noble scholar from the outskirts of Nablus. His shortening of Al-Muqni` and commentary on al-Iqna` are legendary and still enjoy wide success.

One of the great marja` scholars of his time he was also a Qadiri. Anyone today claiming lineage to Shaikh `Abdul Qadir al-Jilani without mentioning him as simply not telling the truth or has perhaps been misled.

He is considered as the Shaikh and teacher of the Egyptian and Arabian Hanbalis as his books enjoy a wider following than another wonderful Palestinian from Tulkarim, Imam Mar`ii ibn Yusuf al-Karmi (d. 1033 AH).

His text, Ad-Dalil ut-Talib, is the mainstay along with many other insightful works by Imam al-Karmi. He wrote the first and most exhaustive ruling on tobacco, coffee and also the ravages of conventional opium use.

He also wrote two inspiring reminders about keeping promises and the obligation of seeking medical attention when direct means have not rendered any succour.

At this place we would also like to mention the Al-Qaddumi family, hailing from Kafr Qaddum; this is yet another stronghold surrounding Nablus. This has brought us Imam `Isa al-Qaddumi (last seen alive 1188 AH), who some believe was an appearance of al-Khidr (and Allah knows best).

Imam `Isa al-Qaddumi was a student and successor to another great Palestinian from Nablus, Imam Muhammad Ahmad as-Saffarini (d. 1188 AH), may Allah be pleased with both of them; at the appearance of the false teacher Muhammad ibn `Abdul Wahhab, the sacrifices made were crucial.

Imam as-Saffarini wrote four volumes of literature against the cult in general and then mentioned it twice in two smaller researches.

We also have the great marja`, Imam `Abdul Ghani al-Lubadi (d. 1319 AH), who came from a family of Palestinian judges and wise men. He was contemporaries with other Imams such as Yusuf al-Barqawi, Ahmad ibn `Ubaid al-Qaddumi (d. 1314 AH), Muhammad ibn `Ubaid al-Qaddumi (d. 1318 AH), Ahmad ibn Husain al-Qaddumi (d. 1320 AH).

Then came Imam `Abdullah Sufan al-Qaddumi (d. 1331 AH), may Allah be pleased with him, who not only wrote against cults but also on his travels throughout the Muslim world. He would live his last days in Madinah and be buried in Jannat ul-Baqi`.

Perhaps for some he is mainly remembered as the teacher of both Shaikh Mustafa ash-Shatti and Shaikh Ahmad Rida Khan, may Allah be pleased with both of them.

This was also the age of the great faqih, Imam Musa al-Qaddumi (d. 1336 AH), who wrote his text al-Ahkam ul-Jaliyah, as a brief manual for Muslims on the five pillars. He was the first to comprehensively prepare conversion tables from the Muslim to imperial and even Japanese measurements. The Imam was thus thinking ahead.

The Faqih was also known for fierce resistance to the Balfour Declaration and subsequent Ashkenazi Jewish incursions into his homeland. He died and was buried with his people.

Shaikh Mahmud ibn `Abdul Ghani al-Lubadi (d. 1360 AH) carried on the work of Imam `Abdul Ghani al-Lubadi and taught in Jordan and surrounding areas until his death and students remembered him fondly.

Still today we continue to benefit from Imams like `Awn al-Qaddumi and `Abdur-Rahim an-Nabulsi, may Allah preserve both of them. We also ask Allah in this noble month to continue to enrich and bless the Palestinians, in spite of the trials that they might be undergoing as they still have pious people among their ranks.

And with Allah is every success,

al-Hajj Abu Ja`far al-Hanbali

This work by Manning Marable is not the only text to deal with the life of the slain leader El-Hajj Malik ash-Shabazz; perhaps it is the only text that distils all the information on the topic into some eighteen chapters (if you include the prelude and epilogue among the 16 other chapters) and also offers some political insight into the subject under study.

It is the belief of Marable that the work possesses a lot of merit in terms of the layout and the assertions made. At the beginning of the book, Manning Marable begins by stating that Malcolm X is the most important black figure of the 20^th century and he is seeking to take the smoke made around him by those that have lionised him in one move but also those who have classed him as a dangerous fanatic in another move.

He is honest about his designs and does inform the reader when he believes that a particular matter is disputed or unknown by prefacing it with, “It may be the case,” or “what appears to have occurred.”

In matters where he believes the assertion to be fact, he will quote a number of sources, in private and public interviews made by himself or located in other texts and then give his final historical position on the matter.

Although one may agree with his positions, what is just and fair-minded is that he balances them with evidence and states when they are merely his personal assumptions.

Malcolm X is also important for Marable, who with his Marxist leanings combined with a synthesis of black liberation theology (although more secular), sees the subject as a fine example of socialist – secularist principles at work, sort of a working model of how a black, upwardly mobile movement of social revolution would appear to an onlooker.

This point is absolutely crucial in understanding some of the underlying themes of the books if one wants to see the stronger message that Marable is trying to put across. Democracy, timocracy, full fledged capitalism and other systems are not sufficient to bring the change necessary to blacks starving to death in the ghettos;

but a populist (and decidedly non-religious) form of socialism packed for the blacks of the United States as the Cubans packed socialism for their own needs would fit the bill. If the reader keeps these points in mind, the rest of the book and its’ presentation will make sense.

Chapter 1: Up Ye Mighty Race

This opens with the lineage of Shabazz’s parents, Earl Little, Sr. (born in Reynolds, Georgia) and Louisa Langton Norton (from Granada, but may be the product of a rape committed against her mother by a white man) and covers the years 1925 – 1941.

Little had abandoned his first wife in the great migration north and later met Norton and they fell in love and married. They had children that were brought up under the black self reliance principles of Marcus Garvey and his Universal Negro Improvement Association and African Communities League.

The Littles had joined the organisation in Montreal, NYC. They were greatly influenced by his do-for-self principles and followed them vigorously. Marcus Garvey arrived in New York on 24 March 1916 and stirred considerable attention. In the aftermath of his visit, he started a newspaper, the Negro World, dedicated to black issues in the United States and throughout the world.

Garvey’s UNIA was different to the NAACP (a strongly integrationist organisation that in the final analysis taught that if one integrated and become as much like the dominant class possible they would be accepted) in that its’ main focus was on the blacks that were in the slums and had not been able to move out or were working on the farms and menial labour with few prospects.

Just this aspect mentioned in the book is powerful enough to fly in the face of the mass media rumour or collective belief that before prison and discovering the NOI, Shabazz was ignorant of black nationalism and the other knowledge-of-self programmes.

Not only was Malcolm aware of this matter in his young adult years (as Marable demonstrates in later chapters), but on 19 May 1915, he was born into a household of Garveyites in Omaha University Hospital.

Chapter 2: The Legend of Detroit Red

 These chapters cover the years from 1941-1946, with Shabazz getting into trouble at an early age, he was taken on by his half sister Ella Collins, who cut an imposing five feet nine inches at 145 pounds.

She started out working at a clothing store floor walker and specialised in catching shoplifters; but realising her job was going nowhere she joined the ranks of these criminals and learned their tricks.

Malcolm was supposed to have gone to live with his half sister in order to have a more structured and disciplined upbringing. However the discipline needed in Boston was not present.

Rather he saw that the saw called middle class was just as bad off as the rest of the blacks, the only issue being that they had the dry rot below the surface (a treat they most likely learned from their former slave masters).

As his sister went from arrest to arrest and fell into petty and sometimes serious crimes more often, Malcolm came into contact with the man who would become one of his best friends, also from Lansing, Michigan like himself. He was Malcolm “Shorty” Jarvis. Coming from the same area of Michigan, they became fast friends and began moving in the streets with a case in mind: to make money.

The underworld of the ghettos around that area was intoxicating and Malcolm and Shorty quickly fell in with the different jet set crowds. Malcolm conked his hair (a not to different method from today’s West Coast jheri curl which utilises lye, eggs, oil and other moisturising agents) and bought a “zoot suit,” a clear imitation of the Latinos from the West Coast of the United States.

(It is from these same Latinos, particularly Chicanos, that lowriding, slicked back hair, cackie suits, g-nike shoes, hair nets, flannel button ups and the LA street gang would come and permeate the Arabs and the blacks; but we will not digress too far.)

Zoot suits were a rebellion against Americana and a symbol of people who would be avoiding the Second European Civil War (mistakenly called World War II today).

Add to this the hatred shared towards people such as Duke Ellington and what he “represented” with the Lindy Hopping, hustling, jazz swing and other matters that seemed down right anti establishment and you had Malcolm Little in perfect form.

Soon he linked up with a white girlfriend named Bea and their hustling and moves around the Boston area started to bring in some modest returns; but the second major milestone and move of Shabazz came when he arrived in Harlem. New York had been perceived by him to be heaven and in his own words, Harlem was “seventh heaven.”

His parents had mentioned to him more than once about the black Mecca and its’ attractions and how it was the key of what blackness should be. Upon arrival there, Malcolm decided in one breathe that he would never return to Boston. He had made it home.

Even though he was in New York, Malcolm quickly sought out the underworld and the criminal life and Shorty and Bea joined him. The Harlem years (which were him shuttling back and forth between Harlem and other cities along the East Coast, including his previous home in Boston) were absolutely crucial in shaping the black consciousness icon that Shabazz would later become;

but for right now he was in a criminal life that caused him to be busted for a string of robberies and other petty activities. The most severe of this was not the theft and grand larcenies, but rather the fact that he and Shorty had been sleeping with white woman.

The judge had goaded the women to testify that they had been raped but they refused. This saved Malcolm and Shorty from doing life behind bars. What they did do was to have a profound impact upon how Malcolm viewed whites. The white girlfriend Bea told the court that she was only a victim of Malcolm’s criminality and that both her and her girlfriend lived in “constant fear” of Malcolm.

This led to Bea having a reduced sentence of seven months, a far cry from the five years that she was facing. Malcolm had been double crossed and with the flair and gusto with which it had been done, he was shipped to Massachusetts State Prison.

Chapter 3: Becoming “X”

In prison, Shabazz was bitter and filled with rage at having been incarcerated. His drug habit had been slowed but not kicked. He instead resorted to heaping tea spoons of nutmeg in place of what else he would normally sniff or snort. His brother Philbert tried to reach out to him using religion but Malcolm railed against any use of religion as a catalyst for change.

Ella Collins visited him but he showed no signs of remorse for the criminality. Two former girlfriends, Jackie Mason and Evelyn Williams, also visited him and spent time discussing matters with him over long visits. Paul Lennon was another guest who Manning Marable believed had and at that time was still having homosexual liaisons with Malcolm.

Marable pieced this scenario together through a number of bits of history and connected events that would seem in his eyes to be circumstantial evidence. Without having done all the research myself or examining each piece, I will have to leave this for a separate research for a later time.

In 1948, Shabazz received a letter from his brother Philbert explaining that the entire family had left Christianity and converted to “Islam.” The points in the letter and the tone of the writing intrigued Malcolm but not enough to drop everything and join. He still harboured many reservations.

In spite of these reservations, Malcolm took Philbert’s advice from the letter and stopped smoking and eating pork. His sister Ella’s appeals to the state had proved successful and he was soon transferred to Norfolk Prison Colony. This was far better than the Charlestown State Prison where he had first been processed. Many restrictions were eased and the upkeep was better.

Religious classes in this prison colony were numerous, represented by sects and religions such as Roman Catholicism, Christian Scientists, Theosophists and “Hebrews.” A family member of Malcolm’s by the name of Reginald visited the more disciplined and now more clean cut prisoner.

Shabbaz was brought up to date about what was going on in Harlem and other places but Islam as a subject of discussion was introduced again. The NOI doctrine was a revelation to Malcolm and the main doctrine he stumbled on was the position that whites were all inherently evil.

More visits gave him exposure to the theory of Yacub’s History, a mad scientist who grafted the white man from the black man and the hybrid produced the most wicked race ever known: the white man. In just six thousand years, they had exploded across the world and sought to enslave all people of colour and to erase the original history.

This cocktail of Islam and black nationalism was well suited to the bowels of the prison system and readily pulled the brilliant and active Malcolm. Marable wisely points out that the NOI was not the only rip off of Islam at that time as the Moorish Science Temple and Ahmadiyyah Movement were also pregnant.

In fact, in many instances the NOI took wholesale from the Ahmadiyyah, especially the translation of the Qur’an made by Ahmadiyyah missionary Muhammad `Ali.

It is to the shame of Muslim Orthodoxy that most blacks were re-introduced (as most of them had been Muslims at the time of their being snatched by Americans) to Islam through Ahmadiyyah or the Moorish Science Temple (which borrowed generally from Ahmadiyyah in their claimed doctrines).

Manning Marable in this chapter sets the tone for the rise of the NOI, giving biographies on W.D. Fard and Elijah Poole.

The theology of the NOI was further explained to him and he also began further reading on black studies but also philosophers such as Plato, Socrates and the philosophers that would shape the thought of Hegel and Kant.

Malcolm had such a strong understanding of history and philosophy that he now began taking part in debate classes. He readily preached to the inmates about the Lost Tribe of Shabazz and his membership in it and the truth of black redemption.

On 7 August 1952, Malcolm Little had become Malcolm X and he was now released on parole to head back to Detroit.

Chapter 4: “They Don’t Come Like the Minister”

Malcolm was living with his brother Wilfred and his wife, Ruth. 4 May 1953 was the date of Shabazz’s discharge from parole and he wasted no time in spreading the NOI teachings. Converts became devoted and even fanatical with the FOI (Fruit of Islam, the military wing of the NOI) emphasis and Detroit was the first stop for Temple building.

After dedicated service on the road and in Detroit, he was appointed to Harlem’s Temple no.7. This was the Temple that was attended by a young Louis Walcott. He would later become Louis Farrakhan.

Due to the power and severity in Malcolm’s teaching, Farrakhan was at first afraid of Malcolm because he was “talking so bad about white folks, I was scared of him.”

Louis Farrakhan became one of a body of men called, “Malcolm’s Ministers.” These were true protégés of the Minister and were utterly devoted. Farrakhan crafted his style very carefully on that of his teacher, even the intonation and mannerisms. He was declared captain of the FOI at Boston’s Temple no.11.

In Boston and Harlem, the NOI encountered Orthodox Muslims and the fireworks kicked off. They were flatly told by members of Muslim Orthodoxy that what they were practicing was not Islam and that they needed to take the testimony of faith and follow the five pillars of Islam. Some followers were greatly hurt by the fact that the global Ummah rejected them and did not accept what the NOI called “Islam.”

The system of discipline in the NOI was clear and resolute. People who committed fornication or flouted the rules on smoking and other bans would be expelled. Some would be given a probationary period and after that would be expelled. Physical discipline was used as a science to deal with wayward followers. The NOI had taken off from a group of some 5-600 followers to building temples up and down the east coast of the United States.

Chapter 5: “Brother, A Minister Has to be Married”

 In this chapter, Manning Marable brings the reader up to date with all the strides that Malcolm had made since becoming the national minister over the temples of the NOI. He was allowed to use his “holy name” publicly as others had not been in the past. The holy name is given to followers after a period of time when they have been devout in their duties and promoted through the ranks.

Belonging to the Lost Tribe of Shabazz, to use this as a last name was permitted only to the initiated. During this time debates between Malcolm and other ideological rivals was gathering heat and the people loved them. He married Betty Sanders during these buoyant times and although the family of Betty did not approve of him, eventually the marriage went ahead.

According the dated NOI files from March of 1959, correspondence between Malcolm and Elijah Poole showed that they in fact had not been as compatible as show to the outside world. This was especially in the area of sex and private matters.

Chapter 6: “The Hate that Hate Produced”

Marable covers in this chapter how the NOI was perceived by outsides and why they still had barriers affecting black recruitment. To whites during the anti-communist era of the 1950s, the NOI were seen as communist agitators and nothing more; some sort of subversive element subsidised by chairman Mao.

More Sunni Muslims started to move against the ideology of the NOI and make their hatred for the cult known. One of them, Yusuf Ibrahim, an Algerian, counselled readers of the Courier newspaper not to confuse the NOI with Orthodox Islam as it had nothing to do with Islam. They had no legitimacy.

This was yet another blow to the NOI; but rather than convert to the true faith, they incorporated a few measly parts of what they thought was Islam. This included articles on great Muslim women in history, Muslim cookbook secrets and so forth.

A breakthrough came when the communist government of Egypt extended a greeting to Elijah Poole at their Saviour’s Day convention. Gamel Abdel Nasser later invited Poole to visit. The NOI messenger sent his national minister Malcolm ahead and he stayed in Egypt and then moved along to Arabia.

During this 1959 journey, Shabazz already saw cracks and contradictions in the theology of the NOI. The race based theories and other ideas were promptly smashed upon Malcolm arriving in the Muslim world and seeing that the Muslims ranged from very pale to dark.

In 1961, Malcolm’s daughter Qubilah was born, a name she was given after Kublai Khan, the Mongol emperor of history. At would be in the year 1961 in the month of January that Malcolm and Jeremiah X, another minister, would meet with KKK representatives.

The FBI, who by now had been collating a running file, kept the minutes from the meetings and could see that the two groups had met to discuss a possible alliance as they both wanted racial separation.

Chapter 7: “As Sure as God Made Green Apples”

It was not just the theology of the NOI that unravelled in this chapter, but also Malcolm’s unbending trust in Elijah Poole as the Messenger of Allah. His infidelities were now becoming well known and secretary after secretary that he had left pregnant without being married. They were then ostracised once they gave birth to their children.

Clara Poole, the NOI Messenger’s wife, tried to ignore the adulterous affairs but eventually could not and she began complaining to her closest confidants. Too busy to yet see the severity of what he was facing, Malcolm kept up his hectic schedule of debates and open speeches. These speeches and lectures had begun to worry ministers around Poole as he was mentioned less and people knew Malcolm more than his mentor.

In the year 1962, the NOI messenger had moved to Arizona with his women and retinue but the whispers were getting louder. More meetings requires his attention though. George Lincoln Rockwell, the one who introduced National Socialism to an intellectual audience, was invited to an NOI meeting of 8,000 people and spoke about the mutual interests they shared in common.

Many people were outraged that a Nazi and brazen white supremacist should be allowed into the meeting of blacks. It further tarnished the NOI reputation but Malcolm continued his speeches and lectures. One thing in evidence was Malcolm’s continued political evolution.

He had gone from speaking about complete separation to self improvement and addressing black issues. This was going outside of the parameters offered by the NOI. This sounded like politics, something that the NOI strenuously avoided.

It would be in this same year of 1962 that one of Malcolm’s ministers, Ronald Stokes, would be killed trying to defend a temple on the West Coast of the United States from police invasion. At first, Shabazz gathered a hit squad from Temple no.7’s elite FOI to kill the LAPD officers responsible.

Elijah Poole commanded him to step down and that such retribution would not be required. The NOI messenger commanded the entire FOI to stand down, which humiliated and relegated Malcolm at the same time. He was greatly disappointed and things would not be the same thereafter.

Chapter 8: From Prayer to Protest

Malcolm had entered new era. He was now going into a phase that left off waiting for “God to get on our side” and now moving into a pro-active mission of warning the United States of the coming conflagration that would be visited upon them by disaffected blacks who had waited far too long for the needed changes.

El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz continued to move around the world in whirlwind tours and debates but felt for the first time the direct influence of the FBI and other intelligence agencies when he was kept from entrance into France based upon false allegations on his passport and concerns for public safety.

Malcolm had a meeting in 1962 and after one of the lectures a Muslim brother from Sudan challenged him on his theology and roundly rebuked him, offering to bring proper Islamic literature. Shabazz was grateful for the gifts but still could not leave the NOI and come to Muslim Orthodoxy.

Saviour’s Day of 1963 brought tribulations that threatened to shake the NOI with some of the children of Elijah Poole at odds with Malcolm and Wallace Muhammad (the son and believed successor of Elijah Poole), who had been discussing with Shabazz some of the deep contradictions of faith that he had come across.

He would be the first person that Malcolm would meet that was close to Orthodox Islam. He also had answers to all of the doubts raised by the minister. The infidelities and sexual affairs of Poole had become so well known that the noise was now impossible to ignore. Malcolm approached the ailing leader at his residence to discuss what he now knew.

Chapter 9: “He Was Developing Too Fast”

 1 April 1963 saw Malcolm at the residence of his mentor. Through slippery and cunning means, his Messenger sought to convince him of the fact that what was occurring was nearly prophecy. They parted ways peaceably but the young man was devastated by what he had seen in his leader and the fact that he brazenly confirmed.

Problems continued as opposition to Malcolm in Harlem and other temples increased. Alex Haley approached him to speak about his life story and they began putting together a manuscript. This would be Malcolm’s testament to black liberation and nationalism and reflect the maturity of his thinking that had developed.

When Malcolm brought the adultery to the attention of Louis Farrakhan at a meeting set up by Wallace Muhammad, the situation turned sour. During the drive to the airport to drop off Farrakhan, they spoke again. At Malcolm’s request, it was agreed that Farrakhan would inform the Messenger of the NOI two weeks after the date to give Malcolm time to gather himself. When Elijah Poole was informed of his students behaviour, he never trusted Malcolm from that moment.

Chapter 10: “The Chickens Coming Home to Roost”

 22 November 1963, the President of the United States, John Fitzgerald Kennedy was gunned down. There was a be a lecture on “God’s Judgement of White America,” at the Manhattan Centre in midtown New York City on 1 December.

Strict instructions were given that no discussion or mention of Kennedy was to be made. The NOI messenger was not able to attend so Malcolm was sent in his stead; but Malcolm did make a quip about the death of the president being a case of “chickens coming home to roost.”

When the story was picked up by the papers, a wildfire of controversy resulted. On 2 December, at a visit with Poole at his Chicago headquarters, he was suspended from his duties due to the statement.

He was not to make any speeches or release any statements to the press until he was given permission. Malcolm agreed however the first day back in New York he broke the silence when answering a question from a reporter.

Elijah Poole, seeing that Malcolm would not only be a continued force to be reckoned with on the political stage but also within the NOI temples with the spreading of the news of his infidelities and false prophecies, kept Malcolm out of the limelight and replaced him with other ministers.

His suspension was not shocking but a great enough blow to loyal ministers to bring questions; but as per nation policy, they fell in line with what had been said by the Messenger of the NOI.

All that Malcolm had done was to be deconstructed. Even the fact that Cassius Clay, later Muhammad Ali, was brought into the NOI and introduced to its teachings through Shabazz, that was taken from him and he was required to stay away from Malcolm in order to remain in the nation.

This hurt Malcolm deeply but did not surprise him. There was a black out in the NOI against him and he was perceived as a direct enemy. It would be in 1963 that there would start to be considerations on how he should be silenced permanently. Death threats began to trickle.

Chapter 11: An Epiphany in the Hajj

Malcolm now began to study Orthodox Islam more intensely with Dr Shwarbi and planned to make hajj in order to properly understand Islam and follow all of that which was prescribed.

He continued to draw large crowds that listened to debates and lectures from him on various themes. He now began to counsel blacks and others to “leave religion in the closet.” Thus in one moment, Shabazz was gaining more knowledge of Islam and in the other he was downplaying it as a tool for social and spiritual movement. He was making the slow lurch towards secularism.

Even with this occurring, he was to make the hajj with money that he had secured from his sister Ella Collins, who had embraced Orthodox Islam. He made it to Cairo but almost missed the deadline for the hajj entrance. Dr Shwarbi had given him some contacts and they in turn introduced him to more people in Cairo.

It would be here that Malcolm would yet again have to relearn Islam, learning the testimony of faith and the other pillars that he knew nothing about while he was in the NOI and subscribing to its cult philosophy.

At the end of the hajj, Malcolm concluded that “our success in America will involve two circles, Black nationalism and Islam.” Malcolm also met some high ranking members of the Muslim Brotherhood. Please keep in mind that he would also later meet Muhammad Suroor, one of the influential people spreading the cult of Salafiyyah in the United States through what would later become WAMY.

I cannot say enough to the reader how great our failure was in preaching the Orthodox faith in the very beginning. As we shall see later in the book, this failure carried great consequences. If most of the Muslims in the United States are black and this is the condition of a great many of them, then the future is sure to be compromised.

Malcolm arrived back at the airport spiritually transformed but his followers still had some residuals of the NOI in them. Would they be able to understand what he was now trying to represent? After some time we would certainly see.

Chapter 12: “Do Something about Malcolm X”

The 2 organisations that Malcolm had formed, Muslim Mosques Incorporated (spiritual wing) and Organisation of Afro-American Unity (secular wing designed to catch more of the black middle class) held frequent meetings and Malcolm was keynote speaker. He was pouring more into the OAAU as he was headed in more of a secular direction.

The Autobiography that Malcolm X was preparing was still outstanding but he asked for $2,500 in advance money as from Double Day publishers as he required money at this time. The book would have to be re-written since he left the NOI and his beliefs had changed and his political outlook as well.

Alex Haley also inserted himself into the text of the Autobiography to assure white readers that the average black wanted integration and to resemble whites as much as possible and that Malcolm represented a minority and fringe position that would be the outcome of refusing to allow the blacks equal access to the same privileges enjoyed by whites.

Dr Mahmud Shwarbi was seen by many as the man who guided Malcolm X to the way of Muslim Orthodoxy; but many Orthodox Muslims, seeing Malcolm’s shift and that the change had not been quick enough, insisted that he was still not Muslim and not sincere.

This continued to be a sticking point for Shabazz who wanted to desperately be accepted by mainstream Muslims as an accredited example of Islam to blacks. The NOI took him to court as they were trying to evict him from the house that had been given to him by the organisation. Malcolm refused to vacate the property and it led to further court proceedings.

Malcolm was driving with some of his entourage one day when a car load of NOI members almost forced him off the road. It was a reminder that he was still very much in danger and that his life was not secure.

At another OAAU meeting, Malcolm praised the US Constitution, citing that it had in it “the principles in which we believe and these documents if put into practice represent the essence of mankind’s hopes and good intentions.”

As he began slumping further to the left, Malcolm’s crowds grew. His appeal became wider but those with him since the split with the NOI felt alienated and unsure of how to explain their teacher’s changes. Some fiqh books had been brought back and there were teachings in Arabic but this still did not have enough glue to hold everyone together.

Chapter 13: “In the Struggle for Dignity”

Malcolm flew out to Cairo again with the intent of shoring up more support and also gaining valuable contacts. While in Cairo and in other locations, Malcolm began to exhibit a hatred for “Zionist agenda” and show a distrust of the state of Israel. This would have been fine if they were his feelings.

However these statements and assertions seemed to have only come from the circle of people that he was around and the ideas that influenced him. For a man that was quite strong and focused on the goals he had set, he was also deeply impressionable and desired acceptance from his peers.

Muhammad Suroor as-Sabban and Saìd Ramadan, members of a new chic and technocratic form of Salafiyyah, began the process of influencing Malcolm and shaping his ideas. Once this could be done, he could be sent back to his people to implement the agenda that they planned for him.

In Geneva, Switzerland Malcolm went on a fact finding mission and he further established links with Dr Saìd Ramadan at the Islamic Centre located in the country. Around this time he had a visit in his hotel room with a woman named Fifi that was a Swiss diplomat. Manning Marable believes this may have been a sexual encounter but this is left to the reader to consider and decide.

However according to Malcolm’s own diaries, on 20 October 1964, Malcolm had wine with his dinner. This was not for any medicinal purposes or for any illness one might assume. Rather, it was surely for pleasure and to accompany the food that he had that night.

It was also during this time that Malcolm started to associate himself with the Pan-African, anti-pacifist movements throughout the African continent. To espouse non-violence in places such as Algeria, the Congo, sub-Saharan African was not only naïve but placing one’s life in danger.

Chapter 14: “Such a Man is Worthy of Death”

Malcolm returned from the African sojourn focused but still in need of spreading the principles that he had learned. He met Wallace Muhammad, who although still having differences of opinion with his father, Elijah Poole, nonetheless was held as heir apparent.

The men parted company after their meeting peaceably but Wallace was still not yet ready to come out fully and publicly against his father. Malcolm continued on and met James 67x, his loyal confident, at the headquarters. He confronted him about rumours that his wife had been committing adultery with Charles Kenyatta.

James 67X did not want to get in the middle of anything so he neither confirmed nor denied anything. Based upon insufficient proof, when assassins came to Malcolm for permission to take the life of Kenyatta, they were refused.

Just as rumours of adultery spread about Betty Shabazz in certain circles, some people also believed Malcolm was having an affair with Lynne Shifflett. If this was true and the story of Fifi in the diaries went further, this would be twice that Malcolm had been unfaithful to his wife.

Shabazz had lost the court case to remain in the house that the NOI had given him when he was in good graces with them. He was still refusing to go and this increased tensions between the two parties until a fire on 14 February 1965 burnt the property to the ground and left no doubt that Malcolm would have to relocate.

Malcolm had a speaking engagement in Detroit the following day and refused to cancel it in spite of the threat on his life. He later showed up for the interview the following day in clothes smelling of spoke.

Chapter 15: Death Comes On Time

In the days leading to his assassination, El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz was on edge, irritable and deeply lonely. The day before he died, Manning Marable asserts that Sharon 6X may have paid him a visit at his hotel room before his assassination and just after dropping off Betty Shabazz at the house.

Farrakhan had been stoking the fires and creating the atmosphere that lead to the assassination to Malcolm and this is something that he admits today. The Newark Temple was said to somehow have been involved and Marable goes into great detail to reassemble the story as he sees it to have unfolded.

The assassination on 21 February 1965 was explained in such detail by the researcher that one could smell the cordite, hear the crack of the guns and almost felt the need to take cover under benches as he read that those in the Audobon Ballroom did the same.

Chapter 16: Life After Death

It is at this point that Manning Marable lays out what he believes is the most persuasive case on who Malcolm X truly was and his legacy to the world. His assassination not only lionised him to his devotees but confirmed the fears that his enemies and detractors espoused, namely that Malcolm was a victim of his own violent rhetoric.

Marable then flows into the Epilogue and research notes and gives the methodology for how he went about his research, his sources and the reasons for his deeply held convictions.

Others have come out in strong defence of the legacy of Malcolm, his own daughters, some of the men said by Marable to by co-conspirators and other researches. What is unfortunate is that Marable died days before the release and could not be here to be cross examined.

In spite of all of this, this book was remarkable and well written. The researcher chose not to include the footnotes on the same page but rather after each chapter; but to his credit he put his own suppositions in plain words and was careful not to mix between those and the facts on the ground.

Whether one agrees with it or not, this is a welcome addition to all the literature on Malcolm X and is perhaps a good distillation of all the collated literature to read before picking up the Autobiography of Malcolm X.

In conclusion, as said before Malcolm X is not a role model for the Muslim Ummah. He is not one of our leaders. Rather, he is a source of where we should be headed, not where we have reached. And with Allah is every success.

Was-Salaam,

Al-Hajj Abu Ja`far al-Hanbali