Джеймс Миченер - The Source

So all four congregations of the Christian church knelt in the dust to offer tribute, and both factions of Jews did the same, Aaron kneeling in one group, Shimrith in the other, so that Arab soldiers could move among them, collecting the submission money. And when it was placed before him Abd Umar—using the Greek he had learned while trading at Damascus—announced to these two groups, “Allah is gratified that we have met in peace, and we shall live that way forever. You are people of the Book, and you may rise and face me honorably.” When all had done so he made the simple offer under which the followers of Muhammad would rule their conquered territories, now that the first savage blood-slaughters had ended: “Surrender your arms. All Greeks and other robbers must leave the country, but others may remain and keep your own religion. Pay a modest tax and we will grant you full protection. Or if you prefer, accept Islam now and become a full member of our community, in which you will have the same rights as we do.” Having said these words, he waited.

At this critical moment a Christian named Nicanor, a follower of Byzantium and the theory that Jesus Christ was of two natures, cried, “Do you accept Jesus Christ?”

“He is revered in our Koran as a mighty prophet,” Abd Umar replied, and the Christian threw himself on the ground, crying, “I accept Islam,” but when he did so, one of the Byzantine priests stepped forward to forestall him. A sword flashed and the priest’s thumb was cut off. It could just as easily have been his head, and all appreciated this act of mercy.

Coldly Abd Umar announced, “At the moment this man said, ‘I accept Islam,’ he became one of us, and it is forbidden for any of you to speak to him against the faith he has chosen. Who else accepts the Prophet?” A large number—truly a surprising number—came forward to accept the conquering faith, but the Egyptians who held that Jesus Christ was of one body only and that Mary was the Mother of God, approached Abd Umar and through their unkempt little priest asked, “Did you speak the truth when you said that if we obey your laws we are free to keep our own religion?” The soldier who had sliced off the thumb of the Byzantine priest was offended by this oblique suspicion of dishonesty and would have struck the Egyptian, but Abd Umar interrupted: “It is difficult to know the truth, and you do well to investigate. But I did speak honestly. You will be free to live as you wish.”

The Egyptian priest bowed his head, then said boldly, “Son of Allah, we of Egypt choose to pay your taxes and to keep our little church.”

“It is done,” Abd Umar announced. Then he addressed the Christians. “You shall live with us in peace, and I shall protect you as I have just done. You may not prevent those of your followers who wish to join us from doing so. Nor may you ride either horses or camels, but donkeys and mules you are allowed. You may have no building, neither church nor home, that is taller than ours, nor may you build any new churches beyond those that you already have.” He stopped. “I see no children,” he said.

“They are hidden,” the Egyptian priest explained.

“Bring them all forward,” Abd Umar announced, and terrified mothers scattered through the town to bring their offspring out of hiding.

When the little ones were assembled, Abd Umar said in Greek, “Now let each child go to his true-born parents and let each father and mother certify that this child was born of his body.” The children scattered to the arms of mothers, who clutched them hungrily, but some fourteen were left standing alone, the orphans of the town.

Abd Umar now dismounted and walked among the fourteen as if they were his sons and daughters. Of each one he asked, “Where is your father,” and when none could reply he said, “These children are from this moment the children of Allah, for Muhammad has said that all children are born in our faith. It is only their parents who lead them astray.” And he kissed the children, one by one, and they were his.

The last child he embraced was Jewish, with a Jewish name, and Abd Umar asked, “Where are the Jews of this town? What is their decision?”

The fumbling rabbi stepped forward to say that the Jews offered their submission. They would pay the tax but would keep to their faith. At this Abd Umar asked, “Are there none among you to join us?” Silence. “I was raised by a Jew. Ben Hadad of Medina, a merchant. It is a newer and a better faith that I bring you. Will none join?” Again silence, and he said no more, for he had not expected the Jews to convert, but as he was about to remount he thought that one Jewish woman, prettier than the others, had started to make a motion as if she were inclined to join the conquerors. If that was her intention it was forestalled by the rabbi, who looked commandingly at her, so that she said nothing. Had a soldier witnessed this apparent interference he would have killed the rabbi, but Abd Umar, hoping to avoid bloodshed, thought: That problem we can deal with later.

Mounting his horse he uttered a series of short commands directing the various priests to take to themselves all members of their congregations, and the rabbi to do the same with his Jews. When this maneuver was completed he rode to the small body of pagans left standing unclaimed and shouted, “You, each of you. Do you not belong to the people of the Book?” The pagans remained surly, some staring defiance, some looking at the ground. To the first in line Abd Umar rode, asking in a loud voice, “You? Do you in this instant accept Islam?” The man hesitated, trembled, replied that he remained faithful to the fire gods of Persia. Before he had completed his sentence he was killed from behind, a powerful sword slicing through his neck until his head toppled sideways before his body fell.

Ignoring the corpse Abd Umar rode to the next pagan, a tall Negro from Sudan, and allotted him five seconds to determine his future, but this man also held fast to his own god—in this case Serapis—and Arab foot soldiers were about to kill him when Abd Umar interceded. Reining in his horse before the Negro he said, “I am dark like you, and the Prophet found a place for me. Join us.”

The tall Negro, appreciating what must follow, answered, “I am faithful to Serapis,” and Abd Umar looked aside as he was struck down.

But the third pagan he approached was a member of the great Family of Ur, and although this man had clung to Baal through many former vicissitudes, it now required him less than one second to decide in favor of the new religion. “I accept the Prophet!” the man of Ur called out in a clear voice, and the warmth with which he was received by the Arabs encouraged the remaining pagans to accept Islam. As they knelt to do so the man of Ur stood aside at a spot from which he could see both the basilica where Baal lay buried and the top of the mountain where he reigned, and he reassured himself: It won’t be any more difficult under the Arabs than it was under the Byzantines.

That day Abd Umar was required to kill only two pagans, and when the rest had completed their conversion and he realized how simple the conquest of Palestine was to be, he spurred his horse toward the western part of town, from which he looked across the fields to the distant walls of Akka. How dazzling the sea-girt city was that cold afternoon, gleaming in the late sun, its many towers pointing downward to the riches that awaited the conqueror. Abd Umar smiled. Capturing that city would be as easy as taking Makor, for the same savage divisions could be depended upon to paralyze the Christians, while ritual-bound Jews could provide no leadership. “An empire is falling apart!” he cried. “And we ride in to gather up the pieces.”

Now at last he could visualize the specific steps beyond Akka: the voyages across that sea out there, the battles in lands whose names he did not know, his swift rise to general and the extension of his faith until it encompassed half the known world. No man before had ever stood on the mound of Makor faced by such a boundless horizon, not even the young Herod who was to accomplish so much, and the ex-slave breathed deeply of the sea air. His experiment had succeeded; he had taken Makor by compassion, and he whispered to himself, “The killing has ended. The fires have gone out and we have a world to win merely by leading our horses up to the city walls.”