Islam’s Message to Christianity as Voiced by One of Her Sons
By Hajim, Son of Ibrahim
Pertinent Questions to Christians
By “Hajim, Son of Ibrahim” I AM Hajim, the son of Ibrahim. The moon hath waned ten thousand times and grown again in glory since the days when my fathers first trod the fair land whose coast is laved by the Great Inland Sea. The sun hath risen to paint with its magic tints the Eastern skies, to grow in refulgent splendor, to call forth the harvests, to gild the grain and paint the ripened hues on fruit and flower, only to sink each evening into the setting glows and glories of the West, for O, who shall say for how many days since the voices of my fathers first waked the echoes in the hills and dales of the land which to this day cradles the glories, the hopes, the aspirations, the ideals of my people! How long is it that Islam hath called or answered Muezzin—answer Broussa, El Khods, Hebron el Khalil! For many a year the laughter of our brooks has been echoed by the laughter of our children in careless play. For many a year our placid pools, lovely in their peacefulness, did but reflect the peacefulness of our land. But time and again storms burst and wild winds rushed across our land. Then, laughter was turned into moaning, and peace gave place to the horror and curse of passion-storm or war. Now, hear, O Christian world! thus saith Islam! I was born. Who called me into life? Who blessed my growth? Who was it who caused my Crescent to stretch with its Eastern horn touching Crimea and its Western horn resting on the glades and glens of Andalusia? Look upon it as thou wilt, O Christian world, thou shalt confess that it was the power, the will, the purpose of Him who rules the world, who governs all nations and who guides all destinies, that I, Islam, should be born, should grow, and should conquer for over a thousand years! If there is a miracle in the growth of Christianity, and miracle there is, surely there is miracle in the growth of Islam. If to-day it is Kismet that the Crescent of Islam shall fade and disappear, every son of Islam shall say “Amen” as he bares his heart to receive the stab of Time. If Potemkin drove in our Crescent’s right horn; if Martel at Tours drove in our left; if Boabdil yielded yet more of our Crescent’s glory to Ferdinand and Isabel of Arragon and Navarre; if defeat frowned upon us when Vienna escaped our power, or Belgrade hurled us back, or Plevna’s trench was drenched with blood from hearts of sons of czar and sultan—we, the sons of Islam, cry “Kismet,” and are ready to cry again “Kismet” when the last remnant of our Crescent shall sink forever in the tides of Time, in the sea of Eternity, in the ocean of Oblivion. O Christian world! thou hast conquered me, but art thou Christian? Was it Christian to change my culture in Grenada, to close my universities, to show hate to those whom I befriended and protected, even tho they were not sons of Islam? Was it Christian to turn fair Spain into a state of decrepitude, from which she hath hardly yet emerged? Was it Christian to seize one province after another and tear it from my grasp, asserting that my grasp meant misrule, oppression, and intolerance? Was it Christian for you, Christian nations, not one of whom is guiltless of misrule, of oppression, and of intolerance, to quote my sins when yours are just as glaring? Was it Christian for thee, O fair Italia, to wrench from me the land of Tripoli, with but twenty-four hours’ notice, and for what reason or reasons? Proclaim the reasons! Were thy sons who settled on Tripoli’s coast so saintly that they sinned never—never took advantage, ever sought the adjustment of dispute by appeal to higher court in Yildis, or, higher court still, the court at Hague, in the far-off land? And is thine own conduct in Erythee so stainless? Not so long ago the defiles of Abyssinia were stained with the blood of thy sons, and their bones lie to this day in those valleys! Was thy invasion Christian? Was it Christian to cause the death of thy brave sons? I have spoken of the court at Hague. O the mockery of it! O the shame it is to Christendom! The word came forth to me, “O Islam, we Christian nations will meet at Hague to pledge ourselves to arbitrate where arbitration there can be. Wilt thou, O Islam, join the pledge?” Then answered I: “With all my heart, with every fiber of my being, yea, with my very soul!” But when Italia declared her war against me, why, if she had grievances, did she not call me before the court at Hague? Why did not the other so-called Christian nations—nations that call themselves Christians after their Teacher who proclaimed “peace on earth and good will to men”—why, I say, did not those Christian nations insist that both Italia and Islam should be summoned before that court of Hague and bow to Justice as there pronounced? Did Italia fear that the court would say, “Thou hast no right to rob Turkey, thy wrongs must be adjusted under the shield of Law and Order”? Why create the court at Hague for “peace on earth and good will to men” if its existence is to be flouted, its usefulness mocked, its power derided? Is that Christian? Why invite me and others to pledge ourselves to support that court and then say to us: “It is but an idea, a mockery, a wisp of straw for idiots to twist and wear and cry, ‘O see my crown!’” Crown! Yes, that Hague court should be the crown of Christianity’s glory! Instead, it is its mockery. And now that I, Islam, am near my death-throe, when Bulgar, Serb, Greek, and Montenegrin band against me, what shall I say? If they had grievances, why not have cited me before that Court of Hague? If the great powers are really powers, and Christian powers, why did they allow the present war even to begin? O Time, what will thy revelations bring when thy Scroll shall be unrolled for all men to read the story of the true reasons that impelled the cursed war? Was Agadir a cause? Did Italia, tho the ally of Allemaine, fear to have Allemaine seize my land of Tripoli and thus get on the shores of the Great Inland Sea the foothold she was denied at Agadir? Or, does the land of the White Czar use the Balkan States as pawns for her winning on the chessboard of history? Is this her way because the rattling of the German arms, the shining armor of great Teutonia, held her off when Bosnia and Sisterland were grasped by Teuton’s ally? What is Christianity? Is it the rule of force? Is “Might Makes Right” its creed? Doth Treason unthrone Reason? I say, again, the greatest and most precious gem in the coronet of Christianity’s glory is its creation of the court at Hague. Why is its luster dimmed? Why was not its light permitted to prevent these wars that have meant sorrow, ruin, death—wars the glory of which is the glory of having turned wives into widows, the honor of which is the honor of turning happy children into saddened orphans? O, the glory! O, the honor! And the mocking echoes of the eternities answer: “O, the glory, O, the honor, of Christianity!”