
IN THE SIXTH year after the Hijrah, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ saw a dream in which he was performing the rites of Hajj. The dreams of the prophets are divine revelation, so he shared it with the Sahabah.
Imagine the excitement that rippled through them—especially among the Muhajirun. Finally, after years of exile, they would return to Makkah. Fourteen hundred Sahabah prepared to accompany the Messenger ﷺ, hoping to perform ‘Umrah.
But not everyone shared their joy. Among the hypocrites of Madinah, there was eager anticipation of disaster. The Muslims were still technically at war with the Quraysh. Battles like Badr, Uhud, and Khandaq were still fresh in everyone’s memory. Heading to Makkah, unarmed and in ihram, slowed down by sacrificial animals, seemed like a guaranteed slaughter. To the hypocrites, this was good riddance.
When news of the Prophet’s ﷺ journey reached the Quraysh, it created panic. On one hand, they prided themselves as custodians of the Ka‘bah, protectors of the sacred rites open to all Arabs. On the other hand, they were at war with Muhammad ﷺ. Letting him enter Makkah would be seen as weakness. But denying him would break deeply-held customs and damage their credibility among other tribes. They were trapped in a political dilemma.
The Prophet ﷺ, along with the Sahabah, proceeded toward Makkah in a state of ihram. In response, the Quraysh dispatched Khalid ibn al-Walid with a cavalry unit to intercept them—but the Prophet ﷺ avoided confrontation by taking an alternate route. They even tried to send assassins among the pilgrims, but that plot too failed.
Eventually, the Muslims camped at Hudaybiyyah, unsure of what would happen next.
To save face, the Quraysh sent four envoys to negotiate: Hulays, Urwah ibn Mas’ud, Mikraz, and finally Suhail ibn Amr.
It is Urwah ibn Mas’ud that we turn our attention to.
A nobleman and chieftain from Ta’if—the second most influential city in Arabia—Urwah was powerful, respected, and politically savvy. He was also closely allied with the Quraysh.
As he entered the Muslim camp, he saw a striking sight: 1,400 men from every walk of life—Arab and non-Arab, Black and white, slave and free, wealthy and poor, educated and illiterate. It seemed to him a rag-tag group, and he scoffed, condescendingly remarking that they could never challenge the might of the Quraysh. Maybe—just maybe—they’d be allowed into Makkah as a favour, but certainly not by right. He even taunted the Prophet ﷺ, suggesting these followers would desert him at the first sign of hardship.
The response from the Muslims was immediate and fierce. Among the crowd, Abu Bakr (ra) shouted a stinging rebuke using vulgar language—language Urwah never expected from a man of such honour. Stunned, he asked who dared speak that way. When told it was Abu Bakr, he was shaken. He knew Abu Bakr personally and even owed him a debt. In disbelief, he cancelled the debt in exchange for the insult.
Trying to assert his authority, Urwah reached out to grab the Prophet’s ﷺ beard—a traditional gesture of dominance among Arabs. But each time he tried, a guard beside the Prophet ﷺ would deflect his hand with the flat of his sword. After several attempts, the guard warned that if Urwah tried again, he’d lose his hand. Enraged by this insolence, Urwah demanded to know who the guard was. The Prophet ﷺ gently replied: “That is your nephew.” The man was Urwah’s own brother’s son—now a Muslim.
The negotiations went nowhere. But upon returning to the Quraysh, Urwah gave a remarkable report: “O people! By Allah, I have visited kings—Caesar, Khosrau, and the Negus—but I have never seen a leader more loved and respected by his people than Muhammad is by his companions. If he spits, they catch it and rub it on their faces. When he commands, they rush to obey. When he makes ablution, they scramble for the water he used. They lower their voices in his presence and never look him directly in the eye out of awe.”
Most people focus on this story as a testimony to the greatness of the Prophet ﷺ and the love the Sahabah had for him. And that is true.
But there’s something deeper we must consider.
Why did Urwah assume that the Sahabah would abandon the Prophet ﷺ under pressure?
Because Urwah only understood the tribal worldview. To him—and to most Arabs at the time—the tribe was everything. It gave identity, protection, and support. In a world where one tribe could destroy another, your tribe was your lifeline. People would fight, die, and live for their tribe—right or wrong.
Urwah could not comprehend a bond stronger than tribal blood.
He couldn’t grasp that the Sahabah were bound by something greater: Islam. A bond that transcended blood, race, language, wealth, and status. A bond rooted in shared ‘aqeedah and taqwa. This was what made the early Muslim community so powerful. Urwah saw the effect, but not the cause.
Today, many Muslims also fail to understand this bond.
We taste glimpses of it every Jumu‘ah in the West, standing shoulder to shoulder with Muslims of all backgrounds. We feel it even more profoundly during Hajj, when people of every ethnicity, nation, and social class unite in worship.
Yet, despite this experience, many Muslims today cling not to the bond of Islam, but to the modern tribe—the nation-state.
The Prophet ﷺ warned against this clearly: “He is not one of us who calls to ‘asabiyyah (tribalism). He is not one of us who fights for it. He is not one of us who dies upon it.” (Abu Dawud)
Yet what do we see today?
We wave flags, sing anthems, fight wars, and die—not for Islam, but for nationalism. We pride ourselves on arbitrary borders drawn by colonialists. And what has it brought us?
Look at Gaza. Two billion Muslims, yet not even a bottle of water can reach them. Why? Because they are “Palestinians”—not Egyptian, not Saudi, not Turkish. Borders, flags, and “national interests” keep us divided.
Iran fires missiles—not for Islam, but for its own national interest. It did nothing for Palestine for 20 months but intervened in Syria to protect its strategic goals. Turkey, Azerbaijan, Saudi Arabia, UAE—each puts its economic or political benefit above the Ummah. Even Egypt keeps the Rafah crossing closed. Pakistan, meanwhile, remains silent on the Uighur genocide.
Everyone acts based on national interest.
But national interest will not save Gaza, Kashmir, the Rohingya, or Sudan. It will not cure our economic ills. It will not reunite our hearts.
We must return to the bond of Islam—the Ummah. Nationalism is a poison injected by colonial powers and maintained by their successors. The Prophet ﷺ said of tribalism: “Leave it, for it is rotten.”
What could be more rotten than watching people starve and die while you stand by—because of a line drawn in the sand?
Back to Urwah ibn Mas‘ud.
Two years after Hudaybiyyah, following the conquest of Makkah, Urwah returned to meet the Prophet ﷺ. He told him that he had recognized the truth that day in Hudaybiyyah. He accepted Islam and pledged to bring his people of Ta’if to the faith.
But when he returned to call them, they mocked and beat him. Undeterred, the next morning at Fajr, he stood on his rooftop and called the adhan. Arrows rained down on him. Mortally wounded, he told his tribe not to take revenge—not in the name of tribalism. Islam had come to abolish that.
He died holding that principle.
The Prophet ﷺ mourned him. He said Urwah was like the man in Surah Yaseen who called his people to truth and was martyred:
قِيلَ ٱدْخُلِ ٱلْجَنَّةَ ۖ قَالَ يَـٰلَيْتَ قَوْمِى يَعْلَمُونَ
“It was said to him, ‘Enter Paradise.’ He said, ‘If only my people knew!’” (Ya Seen: 26)
Today, we must rise above nationalism. It is a Western concept born of secular crisis, not revelation. It serves their interests, not ours.
Let us return to being one Ummah, under one Book, following one Sunnah, in one polity. Only then can we fulfil the mission of Islam to restore truth and justice to the world.
