By: An Anonymous Person Who Doesn’t Want to be Rushdied.
Once upon a time, in a hot little trading town between the desert and the sea, there lived a merchant and thief named Khalid Al-Harb. Khalid was not born a king. He worked his way up from the bottom, or more accurately, worked his way up from the middle rung.
One fine day, he decided to become a preacher, even though most people saw his inability to read or write as a problem. He said God spoke to him, but it was such awful luck; it was never when anyone else was around. Yet Khalid gathered followers. His neighbours, though, mocked him, and some suggested he get a real job that did not involve talking to God.
But Khalid was not open to their advice, so he packed up and took his posse to an oasis town to the north.
And here our fairy tale takes a turn. Khalid the preacher prospered, but not as a preacher; he became a military man and acquired an army. Soon this merchant became a ruler. And he claimed that the heavens, quite remarkably, had developed a keen interest in him.
The Caravan Problem
Khalid’s old neighbours made their living from trading goods they transported in caravans, so Khalid’s followers, newly short of cash and long on grievances, began robbing them. It was stealing; it involved violence and murder, but Khalid was quite sure God was on his side. When people are sure that God has their back, there isn’t much one can do to dissuade them.
One raid landed in a sacred month, when fighting was forbidden, and blood was shed. This was awkward. But by a strange coincidence, and one that would be repeated, Khalid said that the Angel Gabriel, speaking on behalf of God, had told him that it was fine for him to rob a caravan during a month dedicated to not robbing caravans. Angel Gabby had stepped up.
The Loot Problem
War produces booty, and booty produces the eternal question: who gets it? As we saw in the previous revelation, the angel Gabriel once again stepped into the breach for Khalid and told him that God had granted the exception or permission Khalid wanted.
Perhaps God was going to give permission to break the rules anyway, and Khalid was just lucky enough to be breaking them before the divine exception clause came out. This latest divine revelation said that a fifth of the plunder went to God, the Messenger (that is what Khalid was calling himself now), his relatives, orphans, the needy, and travellers.
But it was debatable whether this was a distribution scheme or a private commission. It put our dear Khalid at the centre of an economy fuelled by conquest, with another fortunately timed divine ruling that made much of the booty lawful for him. How convenient.
The Poet Problem
Then there were critics. Ka’b, a well-known poet, wrote nasty verses about Khalid. Major disrespect. Like today when someone calls you a knob on Facebook.
Khalid asked his companions out loud who would rid him of this man. And getting rid of him didn’t mean telling him to stop writing insulting poetry, like Tupac might have said for Biggie Smalls; it meant to kill him - to send him to make a formal complaint with his maker, but in person.
A volunteer stepped up and asked whether it was okay to lie in order to get close to the disliked poet. “Yes,” said Khalid. So Ka’b was lured out at night and killed. And presto, the great Khalid no longer had to suffer insulting poetry.
The Neighbour Problem
One oasis also housed three Jewish tribes. Relations soured. One tribe went into exile. Then another bolted. Khalid and his gang besieged the third after accusing it of treachery during a military crisis. The tribe surrendered, and their fate was handed to Sa’d ibn Mu’adh, one of their allies. But Khalid had the final word, and he said that the men should die, while the women and children would become captives and sex slaves, with all the property divided amongst Khalid and his chums. Fairy tales don’t usually talk about sex slaves. Ouch.
The men were executed; about 800 of them were murdered.
The Marriage Problem
Khalid’s power grew. Meanwhile, at home: Khalid had a close companion with
