Amid the clash of mighty global projects—where wars erupt and cease, where planes ascend and missiles descend on cue—the fate of nations is decided. Over every torn and trembling prey, rival visions jostle with sharpened wings and ruthless ambition. And there, stretched across this battlefield, lies the body of our umma—limp and uncertain, as if suspended between life and death. One wonders: is it merely sleeping, or long since deceased?

Amid the roar of contending ideologies, the Umma of Guidance stands bereft of vision and void of mission. Is this not strange? Alarming? Should we not ask: is it by design that we have been left wandering, unanchored and unguided? Or have we lulled ourselves into believing, in the velvet embrace of the global order, that the message of Islam once flowed through humanity without purpose or path? Without strategy? Without a divine blueprint first laid between the barren heights of Mecca?

This is the question that refuses to retreat—it strides boldly upon the stage even as the players vanish and the curtain hangs suspended. Shall we not seek its answer now, as the time of the blessed Hijrah draws near once more?

What Preceded the Emigration?

It was not mere persecution and torture that drove the first Emigration to Abyssinia, nor the second to Yathrib. For many of those who fled to Abyssinia were nobles of Quraish, cloaked in honor and protected by their tribes—like Umm Ḥabība, daughter of Abū Sufyān; and ‹Uthmān ibn ‹Affān; and Ja‹far ibn Abī Ṭālib. The weak, meanwhile—those scorched by torment in the ravines of Mecca—were not broken in spirit. Any one of them could have drawn his sword and defended his dignity until God passed judgment between him and his oppressor. Yet they obeyed the divine command: “Restrain your hands.” For the truth was meant to be born in a climate undistorted by the smoke of war.

The Messenger of God did not contemplate emigration as a launching platform until he had, in two deliberate stages, accomplished three foundational goals:

First, he built a firm nucleus—a devoted core that would become the bedrock of Islam.

Second, he completed the proclamation and exposition of the great overarching principles of the faith.

Third, he demolished the pagan worldview from its very roots until its temples stood hollow and ashamed, no longer honored even by those who fought in their name. Only the stone idols remained—awaiting the return of the believers, who would shatter them with a cry: “Truth has come, and falsehood has perished; indeed, falsehood is ever bound to perish.”

With these objectives fulfilled, the Prophet began to think of strategic relocation. From that moment, his approach to the delegations at the pilgrimage seasons changed. He no longer invited them to Islam alone. Rather, he made an impassioned, persistent plea: “Who will give me refuge, that I may convey the message of my Lord?”

The leaders of these tribes understood what was being asked. Quraish, too, understood. They had not been ignorant of the purpose behind the first emigration to Abyssinia—and had they truly been, they would have let the believers leave in peace.

What Happened During the Emigration?

Did not the Prophet have full certainty in God’s victory? Indeed, he did. He knew his Lord would guard him and see his mission through. Why then all this planning? Why the careful detour south, away from the caravan route north to Syria? Why descend into the Cave of Thawr and remain hidden for three days?

He had arranged for three camels to be brought by a trustworthy pagan, ‹Abdullāh ibn Uraiqiṭ. He had instructed Asmā› daughter of Abī Bakr and her brother to visit the cave by night—she with provisions, he with news. He had tasked ‹Āmir ibn Fuhaira to erase their tracks with his flock. He had left ‹Ali ibn Abī Ṭālib in his bed to deceive their enemies and to return the trusts left in his care—lest returning them beforehand signal his departure.

And after all this, the plan nearly unraveled when Quraish surrounded the cave. Why? That the umma might learn a lesson—etched in history and carved upon the soul: There is no triumph through improvisation. There is no victory without design.

Let the believing men and women understand: careful planning is a duty, not an option. But let them also know: planning alone does not bring success. For God is the One who aids His servants, even if the forces of evil encircle them like high walls around bound prisoners: “If you do not aid him—God has already aided him—when those who disbelieved drove him out, the second of two, when they were in the cave, and he said to his companion, ‘Do not grieve; surely God is with us.’ Then God sent down His tranquility upon him and supported him with hosts you did not see, and made the word of those who disbelieved the lowest, while the word of God is supreme. And God is Almighty, All-Wise.” (Qur›ān; 9:40).

What a magnificent lesson this is!

What Came After the Emigration?

Once the people of truth had set their feet upon the Path—grasping the necessary means, upholding sacred principles, purifying their intentions for God, and aligning their actions with divine guidance—then God would not abandon them to the grinding mill of contending powers and colliding visions.

The Lord of Glory occupied the two great empires—Persia and Rome—in drawn-out wars that drained their might and broke their pride. And even before the Emigration, God had promised: “And on that day, the believers will rejoice in the victory of God.”

Indeed, they rejoiced—on the Day of Badr—when divine victory descended upon them. On that very day, Rome too prevailed in its war. The march of the faithful against the nearest imperial power began—and it did not stop until the land was opened by divine command. The Prophet then launched the grand strategy, completed by the Rightly Guided Caliphs after him. It began with the campaign of Tabūk and the letters to kings and emperors.

What Is the Worth of a Vision for Our Umma?

The worth of a grand project lies in this hidden truth: our umma lacks nothing but vision itself.

It is rich in youth—youth who, if given freedom and dignity, would shake the world with their resolve. It is rich in resources—wealth, energy, and strength. Were its nations to forge alliances—economic, political, and military—and its peoples to bind themselves in the brotherhood of faith, it would attain sufficiency and ascend to excellence.

Shall we not set our sights on this sacred goal?