Bilal and Redefining Power

Human beings need heroes; it is fundamental to our makeup. It begins as early as the moment of our birth, when we seek our mother’s nourishment. From that point forward, we constantly seek different kinds of nourishment from others: social, intellectual, and spiritual. Faith in the unseen requires guidance from the “seen,” from men and women who have proven themselves as exemplars. It’s important to remember that we humans were meant to be influenced somehow. And when we examine “problems” associated with people (young and old), we will often find that these problems are associated with poor choices in heroes and poor choices in friendship.
 Early on we are taught that the prophets serve best as examples, followed by those who learned from them directly, as is the case with the companions of the Prophet Muhammad (God’s peace and blessings be upon him). The problem is, however, we sometimes do not know how to understand and receive their stories. As a result, their stories become like fairy tales disconnected from reality. For example, one of the most told stories from the Prophet’s companions is that of Bilal Ibn Rabah. We tend to view it as a fantastic persecution narrative and nothing else. But there’s more. What follows is but a glimpse of Bilal’s trials and how they are relevant for us today.
 The most difficult thing for a human being to do is to change religions. It is a decision of great complexity, especially in the Arabian context of the Prophet’s time, when acceptance and rank among the Arab idolaters was as valuable as water. One’s safety was associated with loyalty to one’s larger clan and its values and beliefs. Regardless of what you may think of worshipping lumber and stones, it is important to comprehend the fact that to turn your back on idolatry meant your willingness to alter your standing in a blink of the eye. The payoff, of course, is amazing, for your rank with God Himself raises immensely. And that alone suffices.
 When the Prophet of Islam (God’s peace and blessings be upon him) said that “I heard the footsteps of Bilal in Paradise,” what you hear is God’s final Prophet informing us that the highest achievement of religion and human progress was attained by a man who was considered among the weakest of Makkan society, those whose back was often whipped and pressed with stones. The Prophet’s statement turned upside down the whole notion of privilege and rank. Let’s read more about Bilal.

BILAL IBN RABAH
Throughout history, stones have played an important role in the struggle for religious freedom. We read in the Quran, for example, how huge flocks of birds hurled stones against the Companions of the Elephant who were intent on destroying the Ka’ba in Makkah. It is commonly understood that the Prophet David defeated Goliath with a stone. These remarkable crumbs of earth have been slung, thrown, dropped, and pressed when freedom was at risk. They frustrated burning lusts for oppression and control. Yet never has the stone participated in this theme more movingly than when perched upon Bilal ibn Rabah 1400 years ago. A great Companion of the Prophet (God’s peace and blessings be upon him), Bilal was an Abyssinian slave who was among the earliest to embrace Islam, a decision that enraged his slave master.
 His story is familiar and remains among the most remarkable episodes to have emerged from that extraordinary 23 years of human history that permanently changed the world. Bilal’s life—in slavery and in freedom—is a profile of relevance that hits directly issues current to this day.
 In Makkah, a crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. It didn’t matter that it was during the hottest part of the day in one of the hottest places on earth. There was something of interest to watch. On the sizzling ground, a helpless slave was forced to lay upon the earth. On top of his body a huge rock was placed at the command of his master Umaya ibn Khalaf for no other reason than this: his slave had joined the ranks of a religion that preached the oneness of God, the prophethood of Muhammad, the equality of human beings, and that worshipping anything other than the Lord and Maker of the universe was not only futility, but an error of immeasurable consequence.
 “You will lie here until you die or deny Muhammad and agree to worship the idols,” Umaya ibn Khalaf shouted at Bilal, making sure his Makkan comrades around him would hear the challenge and witness the deal. Death or denial.
 But something else was operating. This was more than a battle of wills between a slave and his master. It was a struggle between the subjugated and the subjugator. It was a moment whose victor would gain a new weapon in a battle that was still at the ideological level. It was essentially Islam on Trial. To see Bilal succumb to the pressure of a heavy rock that would destroy any lesser man would be in some warped way Umaya’s proof of the transitory nature of the new religion and a demonstration of the weak bond it had with its adherents.
 Meanwhile, the weight grew heavier, the sun hotter, and Khalaf more impatient. “Die or deny Muhammad!” The crowd drew closer. Anticipation mounted. A strained voice was finally heard. It was the answer to the command, the response to the challenge.
 “Ahad! Ahad! Ahad! [One! One! One!],” Bilal repeated, affirming the oneness of God. The offer was given again, this time with a heavier weight yet. “My tongue will not utter what you say,” Bilal managed to say. “There is none to be worshipped but God. Ahad!”
 The chiefs of Makkah saw in Bilal—in his trial and in his perseverance—more than the conviction of one man and the humiliation of another. They saw up close and live a tangible expression that Muhammad’s message had an attraction that offered more than freedom and that transcended the enclosed, closet-size world the Makkans knew. For them, there was no logic to accept pain for some religious ideal, to face death for a belief that had nothing to do with the tribalism of Makkah or for some long-gone forefather they had written poetry about. Certainly the pressure of bodily pain upon any man, free or owned, could be tormenting, for torture has a way of altering things, not the least of which are minds. When subjected to great physical stress, things like mission, context, and duty to any ordinary man or woman can become meaningless. What you say and their implications do not matter anymore. Instinctively, surrender becomes acceptable, justifiable, and eventually necessary. Just remove the stone from my flesh. Lift my back from the flaming sand. Shade my eyes from the burning light of the sun! Relieve this pain! Let me walk upright! Let the crowds go away! All I have to say is, “Al-Lat! al-‘Uzza!” Yes? Easy!
 No! Not for Bilal, this extraordinary man. For that brief shining moment, Bilal was the Muslim community under the weight of a mountain, while Umaya, his owner, was idolatry. The Muslims, essentially, won a victory years before the Battle of Badr. Bilal declared his servanthood not to man, nor to idols, but to the Lord of the Worlds. To this day, the story of Bilal remains as history’s immortal precedent of a slave freer than his slave master and the most enduring metaphor of truth-inspired strength. The challenge of any age concerns freedom of thought, which is meaningless without freedom from false notions about human purpose on earth and our ideas about God Himself, as well as our ultimate return and accountability. 

Commonly known as al-HabashI, Bilal ibn Rabah was born into slavery in Makkah about 43 years before the hijra within the fold of the well-known Quraysh clan of Abu Jamah.
 From the start, Bilal exhibited strong aversion to the practices that his clan was known to have indulged in, like palmistry, astrology, divination, fortune-telling, and other areas of the occult. In our context, it is difficult to fully appreciate the dilemma. That chaotic environment of seventh century Makkah was enough to assimilate anything that moved into its path. It required special strength to keep from falling into that malaise that fed on ignorance and superstition. But Bilal somehow kept himself foreign to that world and its ethos. So when it reached Bilal that a man named Muhammad was telling people that God is one, all-merciful, unseen, and is not of stone and is not begotten—that God, Allah, was the sole Creator of the heavens and the earth, and He is near those who call upon Him, no matter one’s wealth or the circumstances of his birth—Bilal signed up, so to speak, immediately.
 Bilal became a Muslim, and doing so endowed Bilal with immediate benefits. One of them was named Abu Bakr al-SiddIq. When Abu Bakr saw the torment Bilal was subjected to, Abu Bakr arranged for Bilal’s freedom, a decision that went against the social norms of the day.
  It is impossible to imagine what Bilal had endured. In addition to the above episode, Bilal was roped around the neck and dragged through the streets of Makkah; he faced lengthy periods of deprivation of food and drink; and he was forced to wear metal armor and sit in the hot sun. Bilal’s perseverance meant very much to a fragile and young Muslim community. Yet Bilal’s endurance was not the climax of his life’s story, nor was it greater than his contribution after he was freed. For in a short period of time, Bilal became a close Companion of the Prophet . And later, after the migration to Madinah, Bilal ascended to be forever associated with the Adhan, the Muslim Call to Prayer, in which he proclaimed without any weight on his chest or back the oneness of God, the truthfulness of the Prophet , the Coming of Prayer, and the Coming of Success: not by horn, drum, nor bell, but by that same human voice that humiliated the idolaters. Bilal’s voice remained true under oppression, and in freedom did not slander, lie, abuse, nor deceive, but spent a lifetime calling people to that which is good and essential.

Perseverance. Strength under fire. Freedom. Foresight. Courage. Simple words on a page. Easy to read. But each is a timeless theme in real life. All of us will have stones to bear, weights on our chests applied from a variety of sources. No one will be left to live without tests: loss of loved ones, threats, matters of wealth, crumbling conditions, temptations, arrogance, oppression, and so on. Humans are often defined by how well we bear these trials. For the Muslim, it indicates just how deeply the declaration of faith has gone past our throats and into our hearts. And when the trials do come, then to whom shall we look for inspiration? Only if we can hear the footsteps of Bilal.