independently.
We would add here briefly a later indication from the Islamic biographical tradition identifying Syria as the land of Muhammad’s rule. In a report assigned to Kaʿb al-Aḥbār, a legendary bearer of Jewish lore in the early Islamic tradition, Ibn Saʿd identifies Mecca as the place of Muhammad’s birth, Medina as the place of his migration, and Syria as the land of his rule (
).166 Although it certainly is possible that this tradition merely reflects the eventual dominion of Muhammad’s followers in Syria shortly after his death, this notice that Muhammad ruled over Syria is rather intriguing in light of the information above. The statement, which Kaʿb claims to know from “the Torah,” identifies Syria as the area in which Muhammad established his political authority, seemingly in the same fashion that Mecca should be recognized as the place where he was born and Medina as the place to which he fled. Such parallels would appear to suggest that rule over Syria was one of the hallmarks, indeed the climax, of Muhammad’s career: while other tendencies may have inspired this formulation, one certainly should not exclude the possibility that this report bears witness at greater distance to an earlier tradition associating Muhammad with the conquest of Syro-Palestine.Yet while each of these early sources indicates in various ways the same chronology of Muhammad’s survival into the period of the Near Eastern conquests, it should be noted that none of them actually relates any specific information concerning the manner and circumstances of his death. There are, however, a few Christian reports from the eighth or ninth century that in fact purport to describe the events of Muhammad’s death. As one might expect, these accounts are highly polemical, offering narratives of Muhammad’s demise that have been deeply colored by the Christian imagination. One of these, the Latin Istoria de Mahomet, is a brief biography of Muhammad that seems to have come into circulation in Spain sometime prior to the middle of the ninth century, when Eulogius of Cordova incorporated it into his Liber apologeticus martyrum.167 Interestingly enough, like the sources considered above, the Istoria de Mahomet also seems to present the Islamic conquest of the Roman Near East within Muhammad’s lifetime. This concise Christian “Life of Muhammad” begins with Muhammad “as an avaricious usurer,” whose frequent business travels brought him into contact with Christian communities.168 After drinking deeply of what he learned from the Christians, Muhammad was approached by “the spirit of error … in the form of a vulture,” who persuaded Muhammad that he was the angel Gabriel and directed Muhammad to present himself to his people as a prophet. Muhammad then began to preach, convincing many to abandon idolatry and ordering them “to take up arms on his behalf, and … to cut down their adversaries with the sword.” Then we learn that “first they killed the brother of the emperor who held dominion over the land and in recognition of the triumph of victory, they established the Syrian city of Damascus as the capital of the kingdom.” Immediately thereafter, the Istoria continues to describe how Muhammad fabricated the Qurʾān, followed by notice of his somewhat irregular marriage to the wife of Zayd, which took place after he had already “subjected her to his lust.”169 Then with the commission of such a heinous sin, “the death of his soul and body approached simultaneously,” and the Istoria concludes with an account of Muhammad’s death.
The flow of the narrative certainly seems to suggest that the conquest of Syria took place during Muhammad’s lifetime. It appears in this biography of Muhammad amid other major themes from his life, such as his career as a merchant, his doctrine of religious conquest, his composition of the Qurʾān, and his “irregular” marital life. If one did not know any better (from reading the accounts of the traditional Islamic sources), one would presumably understand the assault on Syria as also falling within Muhammad’s lifespan. Standing squarely at the center of this polemical vita, the conquest of Syria seems very much to belong among the accomplishments of Muhammad’s prophetic career. It is thus tempting to suppose that we meet here yet another witness to the early tradition of Muhammad’s survival during the invasion of Syro-Palestine, albeit at a slightly greater chronological distance. Although the source is admittedly a hostile one, there is no obvious polemical motive for placing the Near Eastern campaign within—as opposed to immediately after—Muhammad’s lifetime. That Damascus is here in focus, rather than Jerusalem, merely reflects its status as the first capital of the Islamic empire, and its capture in 634–35 fits with the time frame envisioned by the sources considered above. Likewise, Heraclius’s brother Theodore did in fact lead, unsuccessfully, the defense of Syria, even though there is no evidence that he died in battle against the Arabs, as suggested by the Istoria.170 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that the text does not explicitly associate Muhammad directly with the assault on the Roman Near East, and Damascus did not become the Islamic capital until 661. While these events do rather strangely intrude at the center of Muhammad’s life story here, one cannot exclude the possibility that the author has “cut to the chase” by introducing what his audience would otherwise have known to be the final outcome of Muhammad’s militant message. Yet by the same token, the Istoria does not otherwise clearly separate Muhammad from the conquests, and in light of the early tradition placing them within his lifetime, it seems very possible that we have here another relatively early witness to this rival tradition.171
As the Istoria continues to relate Muhammad’s death, it explains that when he sensed that death had come upon him (immediately after his “sin” with Zayd’s wife), he predicted that he would be resurrected three days after his death by the angel Gabriel. Following his death, Muhammad’s followers maintained a vigil, guarding his body and awaiting its resurrection. When three days later this did not transpire, Muhammad’s body began to stink, and his followers convinced themselves that their presence was preventing the angel’s appearance. So they left the body alone, “and immediately instead of angels, dogs followed the stench and devoured his flank”; his disappointed followers then buried what was left of the body.172 The Syriac versions of the Baḥīrā legend, a medieval Christian counter-narrative of Islamic origins, share a similar story, according to which Muhammad declared himself the Paraclete. By consequence, it seems, his followers expected that three days after his death “he would go up to heaven, to Christ, who sent him.”173 When he died, they brought his body to a large house and sealed it inside. Three days later, they returned only to find that they could not even enter the house on account of the stench of Muhammad’s rotting corpse. Barbara Roggema, the text’s most recent editor, dates this particular tradition tentatively to the eighth or ninth century, largely on the basis of its similarities to the Istoria de Mahomet, while Krisztina Szilágyi suggests a similar dating on the basis of the Baḥīrā legend’s literary history.174 It certainly seems possible, as Roggema suggests, that a Christian polemical tradition ascribing failed predictions of a bodily resurrection to Muhammad arose quite early, and that this episode from the Baḥīrā legend thus bears witness to an early anecdote about the end of Muhammad’s life. As much would certainly seem to be suggested by an early Islamic tradition, discussed in the following chapters, that when ʿUmar initially refused to allow Muhammad’s burial after his death, seemingly in hopes of his resurrection, al-ʿAbbās intervened to insist on his burial, noting that Muhammad’s corpse had begun to stink.
Unfortunately, however, the Syriac Baḥīrā legend affords no indication of the timing of Muhammad’s death in relation to either the Near Eastern conquests or any other major events from the history of early Islam. Nevertheless, the most striking feature of this alternative account of Muhammad’s demise is its indication, in the East Syrian recension at least, that Muhammad’s followers do not know anything about his grave, including, one would presume its location.175 This feature would seem to suggest a particularly early date for this tradition, sometime before the tradition of Muhammad’s death and burial in Medina had become well established. More to the point, particularly for present purposes, is that this brief polemical account seems to recall a time when Muhammad’s followers were perhaps uncertain as to the location of his grave. It is difficult to imagine a Christian polemicist fabricating such Islamic ignorance concerning the site of Muhammad’s death, particularly if the tradition of his death in Medina had been well established from early on. It is certainly not obvious, for instance, how this would serve the tendencies of this polemic: