Ummah Wahida 1911 on

[Guinness]

15 February, 1913

or

8 Raby` al-awal 1331

Safwan ibn Nidh'aal ibn Abdulaziz al Medina smiled warmly and greeted his friend, and for the moment ward, Houshmand as Houshmand entired.

"You look fit this morning! Moving pretty well too. I feared that your full day at the Mosque would take too much out of you." Safwan helped Houshmand sit down on a cushion and offered him a bowl of dates.

"Thank you my friend. I feel well today. By His will."

"Well, you certainly look much better than you did the day I found you in that hospital. I thank God every day that he sent you that Orange surgeon."

"As do I. He is indeed great." Houshmand took a date, and thought back to the faitful day when his war ended.

The excruciating pain he felt had been a Habsburg bayonette. It had entered above his second to last rib, and been thrust forward and slightly down, pierced his diaphram, and lacerated his liver, before it's tip finally exited his abdomen just below his rib cage. Allah must indeed have had plans for Houshmand, he thought, to have survived that. Kocak had acted quickly, having killed the bayonette wielding Habsburger, to drag him first to a wagon, then a truck, and finally a medical station set up alongside a rail siding behind the Ottoman lines. From there Houshmand had been transferred still further behind th elines to a proper Ottoman hospital. Kocak felt little guilt for abandoning his post: He and Houshmand were the only members of the company left alive.

The rest Houshmand did not remember, having lost consciousness for weeks. Kocak had kept pressure on the wounds in both his front and back, keeping him from bleeding to death. Ottoman surgeons had declared him mortally wounded, but a surgeon from the Orange Republic, who had arrived only days before ostensibly to observe battlefield care to "advance the art of battlefield medicine for the republic" found Houshmand to be the most interesting case at that moment and operated. What all the doctors believed to be an irreparable gunshot wound turned out to be much cleaner and straighter, and the doctor was able to arrest the bleeding.

Houshmand, however, became septic, and fell into a coma. He laid there for the better part of a month. The hospital staff did what they could for him, but in the end the only care anyone thought might make a difference was spiritual, so a chaplain was called for. Here a fortunate coincidence, or His will (depending on your point of view, Houshmand imagined) occurred, and that chaplain was Safwan.

Safwan was praying by his side the day he woke up.

Since then, it had been a slow uphill climb for Houshmand, who was still very weak from the ordeal. After the war was over, Houshmand was released from Ottoman service. Safwan petitioned the army to be allowed to take many of the grievously wounded back to Jeddah with him, where he planned to use his family's considerable wealth and resources and a little help from the Green Crescent to care for them, either until they could leave and again live on their own, or in many of their cases, eventually succumb to their wounds.

Since that day, many more wounded had found their way to Safwan's recuperative hospital in Jeddah, so the call from the gate that another new veteran had arrived wasn't abnormal. "Yes, of course, ask them in. I'll be there in a moment." Safwan called back.

Houshmand offered him his hand, and Safwan had picked him up. As he had grown stronger, Houshmand's leadership skills had shown through again, and he had become the unofficial commanding officer, of sorts, of Safwan's hospital. Safwan himself was happy to dedicate himself mostly to spiritual concerns.

The two arrived at the outer gate of the compound to see a man with one arm standing uneasily, and holding a small satchel in his remaining hand. Houshmand stopped in his tracks.

"Sergeant Kocak?!" The man turned his head to look. "Lieutenant Houshmand? You're still alive?"

The men embraced, and exchanged kisses on either cheek. Houshmand beemed. "Indeed I am, by the will of Allah, and your labors." He took a step back. "But it seems you are not entirely whole."

"No, after leaving you in the care of the doctors, I was promptly field promoted and set to work organizing a company of infantry from the walking wounded and remainders of 3rd Janissary. A few weeks later, well, I was on the wrong end of an artillery round."

"Well, come in. Come in. You are among comrades here!"

[Guinness]

And yes, I copped out there a little.

[Borys]

Good. I recommend a sea journey to Jeddah, BTW. Much healthier for the men.
Borys

[Kaiser Kirk]

And yes, I copped out there a little.

so, it was a Hapsburg bayonet that made him holey, err wounded him.

[Borys]

And yes, I copped out there a little.

so, it was a Hapsburg bayonet that made him holey, err wounded him.

Bad, bad pun!
:D
Borys

[Tanthalas]

I was listening to music tonight and after I listend to it it just fit.

the perfect theme for Houshmand


Editted by Maddox, with Tanthalian approval

[Guinness]

Some time later....

Kocak fidgeted on the cushion he was sitting on. Safwan had Houshmand engaged in another one of their dialogs as they liked to call it. This time they were discussion the obligation of the faithful to defend the Holy Cities.

Kocak wasn't exactly bored, he thought. After all, this was better than Houshmand's lectures. The most recent of those had drawn thousands, though most who were there didn't hear much.

It was just that he'd heard it all before. But still, the 30 odd men assembled all seemed to be engrossed. Kocak didn't want to seem rude. He reached down for the millionth time to try to scratch the itch he felt on his non-existent limb.

Not far away, another of the men was furiously taking notes. When the group stopped for a break, Houshmand came over and confirmed what was written down. "Yes, very good. I think you've captured that quite well. Thank you."

Then he elbowed Kocak. "Starting to doze off there for a moment, heh?" Houshmand asked. Kocak only shrugged. "Have no worries. You are a steadfast and faithful friend. Allah surely has great plans for you. Come it's almost time for prayers, then we eat."

After prayers, Houshmand made a point of sitting next to Kocak for the mid-day meal.

"I feel our work here is coming to an end." Houshmand chewed for a moment. "Safwan says the first draft of the text was well received by those he asked to read it for me. He's got a printer interested. I think it may be time for what's next."

"And what is next?" Kocak asked.

"It's long since time for me to go home, I'm afraid. If ever we are to bring about what is really required. If ever Muslims the world over are to stand together and defend themselves from the Infadel, our message must not only spread around the Ottoman Empire, but must also come to be known in the Mughal Empire."

"And hopefully avoid ending up in a jail in Istanbul too then?" Kocak smiled.

Houshmand laughed heartily. "Yes, I'd prefer to remain free. Will you come with me Sergeant? To Delhi."

Kocak examined Houshmand's face for a moment. "Will you teach me some phrases in Pashto on the way?"

"Pashto and Urdu, my friend! You can help me with the book translation!"

[Guinness]

Moving things along...

Even after having spent quite a bit of time in Jeddah and the Holy Cities, the Hajj was overwhelming for Houshmand. The crowds were overwhelming, as were the settings.

On the first day, Houshmand and the several men who were accompanying him each circled the Ka'ba seven times, fighting through the crowd on each circuit to kiss the Black Stone, then praying "Bism Allah Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar wa lil Lahi Alhamd" ("In the name of God, God is Great, God is Great, God is Great and praise be to God"). Houshmand couldn't help but notice the close attention being paid to them by another group of men, which Kocak identified as "state security".

Having completed the Tawaf, they prayed at the Muqaam Ibrahim, then performed sa`i, running between the hills of Safa and Marwah, before finally drinking of the waters of the Zamzam well.

That night, Houshmand and his company rested, while Houshmand discussed quietly some of the finer points of his new political philosophy with a number of men from far reaching corners of the Islamic world.

The next two days, including the walk to Mina, prayer there, then the day spent at Mount Arafat was more sedate. Still, the suspicious observers were constantly close behind. "Ignore them." Houshmand instructed his comrades at one point. "If they choose to disrupt the Hajj, that will be their business with God, not ours."

The state-security men remained content to observe from an indiscreet but safe distance, even as Houshmand and his company collected their stones at Muzdalifah for use in the Shaitan. That night, Houshmand was content to sleep on the ground,and contemplate that the Prophet himself had once roamed this very same desert. The next day, he found great satisfaction for some reason while performing Ramy al-Jamarat.

The stoning of the devil was followed the next day by the Eid al-Adha. Houshmand personally slaughtered a sheep, as did all of his companions. The state-security men had conspicuously clean hands.

They were still followed through the second Tawaf the following day, and again the day after that when they each threw seven more pebbles at each of the three jamarat in Mina.

With one more Tawaf, the Hajj was over, but Houshmand and his companions continued on to Medina to pray at the Mosque of the Prophit. There Safwan had arranged for Houshmand to speak. The assembled crowd was the largest he'd yet spoken to. Later estimates ranged from little more than 1000 to more than 10,000. The real number was probably much closer to the former. Those who were there would remember little of what was actually said, but would be struck by the animation and expression through the exaggerated use of his hands and expression. Houshmand had begun to understand how to master his audience.

Returning the Jeddah the next day, Houshmand now knew it was time to leave. Kocek had prepared already for the trip, booking passage for Houshmand and a number of his men on a ship from Jeddah to Karachi. Safwan quickly reviewed the final draft of the book with Houshmand, then delivered it to the hands of the printer.

Houshmand pulled together the veterans one more time. "Men, the time has come. I must leave this country for now, and go home to Delhi. None of you are required to join me in my journey. If it is your path to join me however, I will be overjoyed to have your company."

40 men, including Kocak joined Houshmand as he boarded the steamer for Karachi.

[Guinness]

Houshmand stepped on the steamer with 40 loyal men, but when he stepped off in Karachi accompanied by 80. There he spoke and read from the book, in Urdu and Arabic, speaking at length about his ideas of individual and collective responsibility, about the unification of all Muslims under one banner, and about how these things could allow the faithful to escape the duplicity, schemes, division, and oppression brought unto them by the West.

This message resonated with the mostly young, often well-to-do men who came nightly after the evening meal to the foredeck of the steamer to listen to Houshmand speak. A few of the most learned of them helped Houshmand finish the Urdu translation of the book, and one of them, professing to be a printer's son, swore to take an Urdu copy to his father's press.

It was on the ship that Kocak, somewhat suspicious of these new adherents, first proposed The Pledge, and it was on the foredeck of the steamer the night before she arrived in Karachi that Houshmand administered it to the 80. On that night, they pledged their fidelity to the cause of Islamic unity, personally to the safety of each other, and their loyalty to Houshmand.

In Karachi, these sons of the Mughal Empire did as they had pledged. The book was published as a series of circulars. Houshmand spoke before escalating crowds. First just before a score or so of friends and family of some of his new adherents. Then before hundreds, before finally speaking to a crowd of thousands. In short time thousands more were reading the circulars and passing them along to friends.

Karachi was not Houshmand's destination, and he and the first 40, as well as a number of the second 40 moved on to Delhi, traveling mostly on foot or on horseback. His arrival was preceded by rumor and innuendo. Some believed that he was raising an army along the way, and sought to join him. Others thought him an Imam. Many more men came out, heard Houdhmand's nightly speeches, and took the Pledge. His immediate traveling party numbered in the hundreds before it neared Delhi.

The Sultan's government suspicious, and by the time he'd reached the outskirts of Delhi, a sizable number of the Emperor's troops were there to greet him. Standing before that line, an elderly Colonel motioned for Houshmand and his party to stop.

Houshmand climbed down from his horse and stood proudly at attention before his old mentor.

"It is you Houshmand. I'd heard, but didn't believe it. This is quite the procession you've managed here."

Houshmand smiled wryly.

"Still, Houshmand, you should not have come home. Things have changed here. We have a new Emporer who is less tolerant of disruption. Houshmand, I've been ordered to put you under arrest for desertion." The Colonel gestured and a dozen of his troops encircled Houshmand crisply.

Houshmand's men leaped forward, but he barked "No!" out at the top of his lungs so he could be heard over the din. Houshmand raised both hands and spoke loudly, but in measured terms. "It is God's will, I believe, that I am to go with these men now. Stand down. You will know what to do next, and when to act." With that, he offered his hands to the Colonel to be bound, and was lead away peacefully.

[Kaiser Kirk]

dunno, seems like a mistake to go with them. Is there a significance to the number 80 ?

[Guinness]

We'll see....

The numbers 40 and 80 just sounded good.

[Borys]

40 thiefs ... so 80 must be brigands ...

[Guinness]

Life while detained by the Emperor's Household Cavalry could hardly be called comfortable, but it could have been worse, Houshmand thought.

As had always been the tradition, desertion was dealt with at the small unit level. In this case, the aged Colonel had placed Houshmand under guard, lock and key in his unit's camp-compound. At first the Colonel had been somewhat contemptuous, and the men guarding Houshmand, seizing on this, had given him his fair share of rough treatment, but eventually the old Colonel's curiosity took over.

Every day Houshmand was shackled behind his back at the elbows and let out onto the grounds for exercise. The Colonel often chose to walk with him, and on those walks, Houshmand told the Colonel of this time in Istanbul, of the war, and of his time in the Holy Cities. He told him of the book, of the men that had come with him to Karachi and then Delhi, and of the world he saw for his Muslim brothers in the future. Over this time, the Colonel's contempt softened. Houshmand was still held, still locked up most of the time, but his rations and his comfort improved.

At least until the Emporer took renewed interest in him. The Colonel told Houshmand he'd only been ordered detained after word of the meetings and demonstrations in Karachi had reached Delhi. The Emporer saw Houshmand and his burgeoning movement as a threat.

"But it seems he can't just have you executed," The Colonel explained. "There's some concern of what the reaction in the streets might be. Your work has garnered quite the reaction here. The new Emporer has never been as popular as his father. And now men are walking openly wearing green armbands and professing their allegiance to you."

Houshmand looked at his feet. "This was never my intent. I see clearly that all of Islam must unite to ensure our own survival; that it is plainly time for the return of the rule of one Caliph. I did not expect it would require civil war to bring that about."

"Civil war!" The Colonel chortled. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. When and If the Emporer chooses to act, rest assured that any movement against his power can be crushed. It's just that it would be so... messy. At any rate, you have caused quite a stir. For what it's worth, from what I've heard, I don't think you are guilty of desertion, and have expressed as much."

Many more days before the Colonel woke Houshmand early in the morning. He deposited the uniform of of the Household Cavalry, stripped of all insignia of rank on the mat on the floor of Houshmand's cell.

"Get dressed. You have been called to the Imperial presence."

[Guinness]

When brought, bound, into the Imperial presence, Houshmand did not hesitate, and prostrate himself on the floor before the Emperor in the traditional way.

The Emperor, a man younger that Houshmand, worked hard to hide his surprise at Houshmand's action.

"Rise. Yes. Rise. You know, I remember you when you were riding with the Houshold Cavalry in service of my father."

Houshmand rose slowly, and act complicated quite a bit by having his arms bound behind his back.

The Emperor tapped at a book under his left hand. "I've been reading your book. I must say, that it is well written for someone of your rank and class." He rose from the ornate chair he'd been sitting in and strode across the room holding the book. "Your ideas... of course, you are right. The Islamic world is under threat from the west and must be unified to fight against them. But who should unify us? A Turk? An Arab? A Persian? One of those yellow devils from further east? you must admit, this seems impossible, no."

Houshmand only set is jaw and stood purposefully at attention. The Emperor, a full four inches shorter looked up into his eyes.

"So, you decided to come home and spread this business and cause me trouble, eh!" He walked half way back to the chair and flung the leather covered volume into his chair. Houshmand chose not to note that when he landed in Karachi he'd never dreamed of binding the book in such ornate leather. Things must have been going well for Kocak and others.

The Emperor continued. "At first, your little movement was amusing. Something to distract the common men from the daily grind of their small lives. But quickly it grew. The bureaucrats were alarmed!"

The Emperor walked a slow circle around Houshmand. "So, they recommended that I nip this business in the bud, and we had you detained. The idea was that once We had shown our displeasure, the rabble in Karachi would go back to whatever they had been doing."

Emperor Furrukhsiyar the Second stopped again face to face with Houshmand. "Instead, we've been fighting a growing mob movement in Delhi. Protests have turned to strikes. The strikes have been dealt with forcibly. Blood has run in the streets. This is all your fault."

Furrukhsiyar returned to his chair. "So now, what shall I do with you? Some..." he gestured toward advisors at the periphery of the room, "have counseled that you should be executed, in a most public and horrible way, immediately."

Houshmand held quite still, but looked Furrukhsiyar in the eye.

"Others have argued that to do so would only add more fuel to the fire. This decision has been greatly complicated by recent events in Afghanistan."

Furrukhsiyar popped up from the chair again and strode to a map hung on a great rolling easel. He stood and admired it for a moment. "Reports from the Khyber Pass..." The Emperor sighed loudly and turned. "Well, it seems that 10,000 Afghan tribal militia are on the move. I've sent troops out to meet them, to make sure they mean no harm to our nation." Furrukhsiyar stood for a moment and let it sink in.

"So what to do with you, Houshmand. While you have been enjoying the tender care of the Household Cavalry, this book of yours, and those men you recruited have made quite a mess of things that I now need to clean up."

The Emperor returned again to his seat, and leaned over while an advisor whispered something in his ear. He sat back up and frowned.

"While you were being brought here, we had planned to arrest most of you foreign compatriots, but it seems they were ready for us, and a battle has broken out in the streets."

More whispering, and the Emperor waved his hand before nearly yelling. "Yes, yes. I see! No we can't have that. Yes!" The Emperor sighed loudly again.

Furrukhsiyar spoke again: "The suggestion is that I should simply send you back to the Ottomans. Take your followers here in Delhi and in Karachi with you, and any of those damned Afghans who'd like to volunteer. You can go make trouble for them."

Houshmand spoke: "And then what?"

Furrukhsiyar: "Then what? When you get back to Arabia or wherever you go, and make trouble, the Ottomans can put you down. But in the rare chance that your act proves popular there, well then, obviously someone would have to be the new Caliph. I suppose I can come to the rescue to restore order and the rule of law. Or did you think you would become Caliph?"

[The Rock Doctor]

In addition to having perhaps my favorite title in the news forum, this continues to be an excellent story.