The processes by which Muḥammad’s proclamations came to be canonised scripture “between two covers” are memorialised in an array of sometimes conflicting traditions. A small number of these hadiths portray a few early female figures playing a part in these developments. Today, the most widely known examples are probably the collection traditions which credit Ḥafṣa (d. ca 45 AH/665 CE), daughter of the second caliph ʿUmar b. al-Khaṭṭāb (r. 12/634–23/644) and one of the Prophet Muḥammad’s wives, with having safeguarded quranic writings which served as the basis of the ʿUthmānic recension.
Assessing such traditions’ historical roots is complex. While analyses of the isnāds and contents of such traditions continue to be carried out (e.g. Motzki 2001; Comerro 2012), another approach, which this article adopts, is to examine the Qur’an itself for clues. To date, scholars have largely not connected the traditions memorialising the collection of the Qur’an and Q. 33:34a: wa-dhkurna mā yutlā fī buyūtikunna min āyāti llāhi wa l-ḥikma, which Muhammad Abdel Haleem translates as “Remember what is recited in your houses of God’s revelations and wisdom”. In what follows, an argument is made for reconsidering the common presumption that this verse addressed to the wives of the prophet has no connection to later memorialisations of several of these women as having played a part in the Qur’an’s collection and/or early transmission.
The assertion that there is a link was made over eighty years ago by the historian Gertrude Stern (1939b: 304–5). As we will see, several premodern exegetes also implied as much. Nevertheless, Q. 33:34a is not usually regarded today as potentially germane to academic analyses of traditions about the compilation of the Quranic text or its early transmission. A key element underlying the perception of its possible relevance is the position one takes on the Qur’an’s origins and formation. But even scholars who agree that by the end of ʿUthmān’s reign (r. 23–35 AH/644–656 CE), its consonantal skeleton was mostly fixed, and that at least some suras can be studied as whole texts, have largely ignored this verse. While there are several reasons why this is the case, this article chiefly focuses on those related to the intertwined problems of ambiguity and coherence.
Q. 33:34 is open to multiple interpretations, as premodern Qur’an commentaries illustrate; therefore, its command to the wives of the prophet could be dismissed as simply ambiguous. But even if one were to read this verse as instructing them to memorise Muḥammad’s revelations or proclaim them to others, such a reading arguably does not seem to cohere with prevalent impressions of the surrounding verses. This article will term verses 33:28–34 “the choice pericope” (this delineation provisionally follows Bell 1939: 413–4, cf. El-Awa 2006: 54–5). Verses 28–9 of this passage are traditionally known as “the Verse of the Choice”, as they present Muḥammad’s wives with a choice between “the present life and its finery” or “God, His messenger, and the Final Home”. Historically, the choice pericope has typically been read as mandating marital obedience and seclusion at home for the prophet’s wives while forbidding their institutionalised involvement in public life; classical exegetes also extended these strictures to free Muslim women in general (Stowasser 1994: 98–9).
However, such reservations about coherence rest on some questionable premises. The choice pericope has received some limited attention in the last several decades (e.g. Stowasser 1994: 95–9; Madelung 1997: 14–15; El-Awa 2006: 71–7; Rubin 2014: 69), as has Q. 33:34 (Madigan 2001: 93, 95, 139; Lowry 2008: 144, 147). However, most of these discussions have been tangential to various other historical and textual concerns. It remains the case that there has been little recent detailed analysis of the choice pericope and how it relates to the rest of S. 33 (Sūrat al-Aḥzāb, “The Joint Forces”). Also, both this pericope as well as this verse often continue to be read through the lens of outdated assumptions about gender in the Qur’an. As a result, “gender” has often been equated with “women”, masculinities in the text have received limited analysis, and gender categories have tended to be approached in monolithic, ahistorical ways. Insufficient attention has been given to the Qur’an’s ongoing constructions and negotiations of gender categories, as well as the relational nature and internal complexity of these (for some analytical approaches to gender in classical Muslim texts, see Katz 2016; Geissinger 2015, 2021). While gendered rhetoric plays a central role throughout S. 33 (and not just in the choice pericope or other passages explicitly mentioning women), this sura has yet to be analysed with this in mind.
This rereading begins with the choice pericope and the occasion-of-revelation traditions usually associated with it, highlighting several of this pericope’s peculiar yet understudied features. Next, it examines the complex gendered rhetoric in S. 33, particularly in those passages dealing with the siege and its aftermath. Finally, it revisits the choice pericope with a focus on verse 34a, arguing for the coherence of reading this verse as a command to memorise or recite Muḥammad’s revelations to others. Also, the probability will be noted of a link between this verse and the later emergence of traditions attributing involvement in the oral and/or written transmission of the Quranic text to several of the prophet’s wives. However, the complex question of whether these women did in fact play such roles is beyond the scope of this article.
A Note on Method
Scholars take a range of positions on the dating of the Qur’an, its contents, the historicity of the events it references, as well as its connection to Muḥammad and his life (for a recent overview see Stewart 2017; for evidence of the text’s codification in the first/seventh century, see van Putten 2019). However, this rereading is based on the position that most of the contents of Sura 33 date to the aftermath of the Battle of the Trench of 5/627 (Nöldeke et al. 2013: 169), and that its consonantal skeleton was not altered after Muḥammad’s passing (Rubin 2014). While arguments have been made for different dating of several passages, especially v. 28–35; v. 53–4; v. 59–60 (e.g. Abbott 1985 [1942]: 20–3, 48–61; Watt 1968: 284–7), it seems doubtful whether any of the occasion-of-revelation traditions often cited in this connection can bear the weight of the inferences variously derived from them. Also, this rereading is predicated on the view that the Qur’an presents a rhetoricised and often polemical recounting of actual events and concerns of Muḥammad and his fledgling community, with the aim of influencing these (e.g. Saleh 2016, 2018).
Whether hadiths and tradition-based sources such as traditional biographies of Muḥammad (sīra) have anything to offer scholarly efforts to reconstruct the historical context within which the Qur’an emerged continues to be debated. This article treats the outline provided by the sīra of key events in Muḥammad’s career as plausible (e.g. Sinai 2010; Dayeh 2010). The occasion-of-revelation traditions discussed below will be considered primarily in relation to their historical roles in Quranic exegesis, as well as the assumptions they express about the social functions and dynamics of elite marriages. However, any attempt to date these traditions or determine their historical veracity is beyond this article’s scope.
As a recent survey of the field of Qur’anic Studies illustrates, probably the best-known approaches to gender in the Qur’an today are studies which examine narratives with female characters and verses on topics deemed relevant to women’s religio-legal status, as well as writings informed by confessional and activist concerns (Stewart 2017: 44–7). Nevertheless, the rereading carried out in this article presumes that the field has room for other approaches as well, including those that examine gendered categories in the Qur’an in more complex ways (e.g. Kueny 2013: 19–49; Urban 2020: 19–47) while utilising historical-critical methods. Accordingly, the goal here is not to rescue the text nor to idealise the social relations that it depicts or prescribes, but to answer historical questions (e.g. Bauer 2016).
This rereading also proceeds from the recognition that gendered rhetoric is present throughout the Qur’an. The critiques and selective appropriations of pre-Islamic Arabian ideals of muruwwa (lit. manliness) in the Qur’an which Toshihiko Izutsu examines in his pioneering scholarship (Izutsu 1966) are no less gendered than verses mentioning female figures, or legal issues such as marriage or veiling. Therefore, this article asserts that studying its gendered rhetoric is key to historical-critical analysis of the entire text, and models one way that this can be done.
Introducing the Choice Pericope
[28] Prophet, say to your wives, “If your desire is for the present life and its finery, then come, I will make provision for you and release you with kindness,
[29] but if you desire God, His Messenger, and the Final Home, then remember that God has prepared great rewards for those of you who do good”.
[30] Wives of the Prophet, if any of you does something clearly outrageous, she will be doubly punished – that is easy for God –
[31] But if any of you is obedient to God and His Messenger and does good deeds, know that We shall give her a double reward and have prepared a generous provision for her.
[32] Wives of the Prophet, you are not like any other woman. If you are truly mindful of God, do not speak too softly in case the sick at heart should lust after you, but speak in an appropriate manner;
[33] stay at home, and do not flaunt your finery as they used to in the pagan past; keep up the prayer, give the prescribed alms, and obey God and His Messenger. God wishes to keep uncleanness away from you, people of the [Prophet’s] House, and to purify you thoroughly.
[34] Remember what is recited in your houses of God’s revelations and wisdom, for God is all subtle, all aware (Abdel Haleem 2015).
This pericope begins by offering the wives of the prophet a stark choice – if not an ultimatum (Stern 1939a: 114; Watt 1968: 286). They are commanded to decide whether they want “the present life and its finery” (al-ḥayāt al-dunyā wa-zīnatahā), or “God, his messenger, and the Final Home” (Allāh wa rasūlahu wa l-dār al-ākhira). If they opt for the former, Muḥammad undertakes to give them provision (umattiʿkunna) and release them from marriage, but if they wish for the latter, then there are strict standards of conduct to which they must adhere.
While the choice pericope has several anomalous features, it has typically been read in classical Muslim texts in ways that downplay these. The focus has generally been on its admonitory and regulatory themes, as this pericope is understood to have been proclaimed in the wake of some type of crisis brought about by Muḥammad’s wives’ misbehaviour. Well-known occasion-of-revelation traditions attribute various misdeeds to them. These include demanding more provisions or other worldly goods such as clothing, arguing with the Prophet, jealous resentment of his enslaved concubine Māriya the Copt, and competing with one another over gifts, the sizes of their dowers, shares of food, or for his time and attention. Some of these traditions are also linked by exegetes to the revelation of Q. 66:1–5. This latter passage reproves two unnamed wives of Muḥammad for some unspecified transgression involving one wife’s disclosure of confidential information, and then segues into a stern warning to his wives as a group (Stowasser 1994: 96, 99–100). In his exegesis of Q. 33:28–9, al-Māturīdī (d. 333/944) mentions – and swiftly rejects – yet another possible misdeed: that the prophet’s wives had been “sitting and selecting [other] husbands” (2008: 331; for a somewhat similar scenario, see al-Qummī 1991: 167). While this could be an inference based on v. 30, which warns these women to avoid lewd behaviour, it may allude to another situation (more on this below).
It is hard to say whether any of the well-known occasion-of-revelation traditions have a historical basis, much less what their relationship to any part of the pericope might be (for scepticism on the latter point see Nöldeke et al. 2013: 168, n.181; Stern 1939a: 114; Stowasser 1994: 96). They may be little more than imaginative elaborations on several different phrases in v. 28–33 which seemingly imply that the prophet’s wives are being censured for desiring worldly goods (v. 28), failing to obey their husband, (v. 31, 33), or showing off (v. 33).
In such traditions, Muḥammad’s wives embody stereotypical female flaws such as jealousy, greed, and shallowness. The historical origins of traditions of this type are likely complex (for the functions of similar traditions in early tribal, political, and sectarian rivalries, see Stowasser 1994: 109–11). Nevertheless, when quoted as part of the exegesis of the choice pericope, such traditions have the effect of reducing the crisis addressed by these verses to the wives’ personal failings.
Such a moralising focus elides the internal contradictions of political marriages. The success of the wives of a powerful and influential man in vying for status, influence, and access to material resources could not only enhance their own positions but the standing and prosperity of their kin (for clothing and social status, see Stillman 2000: 26). It seems likely that such dynamics would tend to foster social and familial expectations that they behave in such competitive ways. Therefore, it seems doubtful that rivalry and rancour among Muḥammad’s wives in and of itself would have constituted a major crisis
These occasion-of-revelation traditions may reflect aspects of the social logics, tensions, and contradictions in political marriages of that time and place. At the same time, they appear to minimise what likely was at stake, especially in relation to the complex political, social, and economic factors at play in the wake of the siege of Yathrib/Medina by the Meccan pagans and their allies during the Battle of the Trench (more on this below). Relatedly, such traditions attenuate aspects of the choice pericope which came to be perceived as theologically troubling. It is difficult not to suspect that linking some of these occasion-of-revelation traditions with both the choice pericope and Q. 66:1–5 was intended to mitigate the discomfiting spectacle of two apparently major crises in the prophet’s household by suggesting that both passages refer to one relatively minor incident (for this exegetical move in another context, see Saleh 2015: 56).
The choice pericope has several anomalies which have yet to be convincingly accounted for:
(1) Several verses in the choice pericope directly address the wives of the prophet themselves. This is a dramatic departure from typical Quranic patterns of address. The Qur’an nearly always addresses its audience using the masculine plural or masculine singular (the only other exceptions are Q. 33:55b and 66:4–5).
(2) The condemnation of those who prefer the present life (the ḥayāt al-dunyā) to the hereafter was by this point in Muḥammad’s career a well-developed Qur’anic theme (more on this presently). Were his wives not familiar with this teaching already? Why would it have become such an issue at this juncture that an example would be made of these women in particular?
(3) The mere fact that Muḥammad’s wives can choose whether they will remain married stands out as textually unusual within the Qur’an as a whole, as well as in S. 33. As Kecia Ali demonstrates, the Qur’an most often speaks of marriage, male-female sexual relations, and divorce in androcentric ways. It generally presents free men as acting subjects vis à vis passive female bodies and seldom considers the wishes or perspectives even of free women (2016: 146–72). This androcentric textual pattern is also apparent elsewhere in S. 33 (e.g. v. 37, 49–53, 59).
While the interpretive histories of Q. 33:34a have received some recent attention as noted above, there is no scholarly consensus on what the “originally intended” meaning of this verse might be. It has been characterised as the concluding directive of a passage imposing increasingly narrow limitations on Muḥammad’s wives’ conduct (e.g. Abbott 1985 [1942]: 56–7). This verse has also been read as emphasising the “privilege” of belonging to the prophet’s household, where the revelation descends (El-Awa 2006: 77), or as enumerating one of the “moral duties” that v. 28–34 made incumbent upon these women in order to keep the prophet’s family “pure” (Rubin 2014: 69).
Relatedly, consensus is lacking about the intended meanings of a few key words. According to al-Māturīdī, udhkurna here may mean remember, memorise, or recite, while āyāti llāhi could be understood as God’s signs, i.e. the divine blessings which they have received, or divine verses, i.e. Muḥammad’s revelations (2008: 344–5). Rudi Paret’s translation, which illustrates such uncertainties, reads: “Und behaltet im Gedächtnis (?) was von den Versen Gottes und von der (göttlichen) Weisheit in eurem Haus verlesen wird!” While he apparently favours interpreting udhkurna as “keep in mind”, he expresses some doubt with a question mark and a footnote stating that it could mean “memoriert” (memorise). Paret renders āyāti llāhi as “Versen Gottes” (God’s verses) yet observes in a footnote that another meaning of āyāt is “Zeichen” (signs) (1962: 347).
But even when āyāti llāhi is thought likely to refer to Muḥammad’s revelations, scholars generally presume that early Muslims would have understood the command as an instruction to his wives to recall Qur’anic teachings so that they can put these into practice by behaving appropriately. Such an assumption accords with the interpretations of this verse by many classical exegetes (Geissinger 2015: 61–2). Nevertheless, several late classical exegetes do mention that a possible meaning of Q. 33:34 is that it directs the prophet’s wives to recite the Qur’an so that it is made known to others (e.g. al-Thaʿālabī n.d.: 228; similarly Abū Ḥayyān 2002: 308). In other words, linguistic considerations do not rule out such an interpretation of the verse, in their view.
The well-known occasion-of-revelation traditions summarised above have tended to promote reading the choice pericope as though it bears little relation to much of the rest of S. 33. Other salient factors include the impression that the sura haphazardly presents several unrelated topics (e.g. Nöldeke et al. 2013: 169), as well as assumptions which equate the prophet’s wives’ seclusion with sequestration within a presumed “private” or “domestic” sphere separate from the “public” realm.
It should be noted that the presumption that such a public/private division existed in first/seventh century Medina is anachronistic (see Alshech 2007; Noorani 2010). Also, it seems particularly inapplicable to S. 33. Much of the sura addresses a siege, with the battlefield all too proximate to people’s homes, and the siege’s unsettled aftermath, which it presents as marked by ongoing contestations over power that were intertwined with daily life. A growing body of scholarship challenges simplistic assumptions about the lives of elite secluded women centuries later in different regions (e.g. Peirce 1993; Lal 2005). As such studies illustrate, subordination, power, restriction, and privilege are relational, and can be intertwined in complex ways in the lives of aristocratic secluded women. Their findings should suggest more nuanced questions to ask about the textual functions of the Qur’an’s directives concerning Muḥammad’s wives and its exhortations to them.
A few verses in S. 33 seem to indicate that the prophet’s wives had access to and a degree of control over some valued resources, both material and immaterial. The command that they give zakāt (Q. 33:33b) may imply that they possessed and managed some kind of property. They apparently owned some enslaved persons (Q. 33:55). 1 Also, several wives of Muḥammad were reportedly from prominent Meccan families and had varying abilities to exercise influence through family connections as well as due to their marriages to the prophet. Subordinated to varying degrees in some contexts while potentially powerful in others, the rather ambiguous position of this select group of elite women within Muḥammad’s nascent polity seems to have given them leverage in some situations, or at least the impression of possessing it. The complexities and pitfalls involved in these political marriages appear to have become increasingly an issue in the wake of the siege.
Rereading S. 33: The Siege, Realpolitik, and Idealism Through a Gendered lens
As it has come down to us, Sura 33 portrays a community that is dealing with the aftermath of a harrowing experience. Verses 10–11 vividly remind Muḥammad’s followers of how terrified they had been as the enemy (i.e. the Meccan pagans and their tribal allies) had attacked them from “above and below”, so that “your eyes rolled” in fear, “your hearts rose into your throats, and you thought [ill] thoughts of God”. The believers had been “sorely tested and deeply shaken”. Meanwhile, some inhabitants of Yathrib who ostensibly had been ready to fight alongside them decided that defending the oasis was a lost cause (v. 13).
That Muḥammad’s side had narrowly escaped defeat is apparent. The fate of the People of the Book (i.e. the Medinan Jewish tribe of Qurayẓa) – conquest, death, captivity, loss of property (v. 26–7) – at the hands of Muḥammad’s followers could have been their own, had they not been rescued by wind and unseen angels (v. 9). Even after the attackers had dispersed, deep internal divisions and fear remained. Some of those who had been reluctant to fight speculated that the enemy might still be in the area and planning to advance on them again (v. 19–20).
Previously, Muḥammad had characterised those who rejected his message as deluded by the life of this world (6:70, 130; 7:51) and had warned his hearers against being likewise deceived (31:33; 35:5). The words attributed to “the hypocrites, and the sick at heart” during the battle – “God and his messenger promised us nothing but delusions (ghurūr)!” (v. 12) mockingly turn his words against him. They imply a question that lingered even after the attackers had gone: Does the prophet’s fledgling polity in Yathrib have a viable future? (Peters 1994: 222; cf. Watt 1968: 39)
S. 33 is arguably not only a response, but a counterattack which targets that question’s very premises, while attempting to address the weaknesses that had almost been the community’s undoing. These vulnerabilities included the competing allegiances held to by some of Muḥammad’s followers, reluctance to obey his directives, the refusal on the part of some to regard their pledges to fight alongside him as binding, as well as internal conflict and disorder. Therefore, this sura recounts, reframes, and mythologises select scenes from the siege in ways which not only reaffirm the truth of Muḥammad’s message but draw increasingly firm boundaries between his committed followers and the pagans. It does so by rhetorically casting out those who sought to occupy intermediate positions and balance conflicting ties of allegiance. Some of Muḥammad’s followers were hedging their bets as to whether his polity would survive; the Qur’an disparagingly refers to them as “the hypocrites” (munāfiqūn). In S. 33, they are unceremoniously lumped together with the pagan enemy.
This sura elaborates upon the cosmic dimensions of Muḥammad’s prophetic status in an unprecedented manner (Bobzin 2010: 569–75), while also stressing his authority in this world, in the face of those who had undermined his leadership and tried to evade fighting. It reiterates that to be classed among the believers requires obeying the prophet. While S. 33 acknowledges that social unrest continues in Yathrib, it nevertheless attempts to ensure that order will hold sway at his house-mosque (Peters 1994: 194–5) first and foremost, and furthermore that it will be seen to do so.
Gendered categories and gendered rhetoric are fundamental to all these countermoves. Multiple constructions of masculinity are present in the Qur’an (De Sondy 2013). Already in Mecca, S. 43 (al-Zukhruf, “Ornaments of Gold”) polemically dismisses prominent pagan noblemen as effeminate and their deities as weak and inarticulate (Saleh 2019: 98, 101–3). The Qur’an carries out an ongoing negotiation with elite pagan ideals of masculinity as these are reflected in pre-Islamic Arabian qaṣīdas. As has been shown, such poetry celebrates the muruwwa of the free aristocratic adult male warrior of a leading tribe, which it presents as ideally characterised by a fierce independence, pride in his noble lineage, loyalty to his tribe, great courage in the face of danger, skill in battle, virility, and immoderate generosity. At various points, the Qur’an appropriates, reframes, or inverts these values (Izutsu 1966; Bauer 2010: 725–30; Neuwirth 2019b: 422–3). In other words, it repeatedly contests and reinterprets such pagan Arabian constructions of hegemonic masculinity. The term “hegemonic masculinity” refers to the normative, “most honoured way of being a man” in a particular society, in contradistinction to various subordinated masculinities (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005).
Some scholars have already observed that certain verses of S. 33 affirm several character traits idealised in pre-Islamic Arabia as key aspects of muruwwa while also resignifying these. Examples are loyalty and keeping one’s word in v. 7–8, 23–4 (Izutsu 1966: 90–1), as well as pride in one’s lineage, which v. 7 and v. 40 redirect from tribal ancestors to spiritual genealogies composed of prophets preceding Muḥammad (Neuwirth 2019a: 423). These are but a few instances in which S. 33 lays claim to, inverts, or adapts the notion of muruwwa. It also does so in the passages excoriating the hypocrites as well as in its bold, even triumphalist rhetoric. This sura marks an important stage in the ongoing process in the Medinan Qur’an’s construction of new modes of hegemonic masculinity in contradistinction to elite pagan ideals.
As this sura recalls and reframes scenes from the Battle of the Trench, it is only true believers who are credited with steadfastness in the face of danger, standing by their pledge, and willingness to fight to the death against all odds (v. 22–3). But while their resolve was tested and found to be strong, the opposite is said to be true of the hypocrites. Muḥammad’s following in Medina was more of an unstable assemblage of groups who had made alliances with him than a cohesive community (Watt 1968: 247–8). Different groups had varying stakes in the outcome of his efforts to establish a polity in the face of considerable odds. A significant number of people evidently regarded hedging their bets as the most prudent approach. Such fence-sitting seems to have involved giving Muḥammad their allegiance while continuing to hold onto tribal and clan loyalties and previous alliances. As social, political, and economic structures were based on the tribe, it was very difficult for a lone individual to survive (Izutsu 1966: 55–8). A number of Medinan passages identify such a “wait and see” stance with the hypocrites, whose resistance to the prophet’s command to fight constituted a significant challenge to his authority (Saleh 2015: 67). In scenes from the siege, S. 33 polemically imputes to the hypocrites the failure to feel, think, and act in accordance with pagan hegemonic masculine ideals. They are portrayed as fearful, reluctant to fight, eager to flee, breaking their pledge, and ready to act treacherously – yet also greedy for an unearned share of the spoils (v. 13–16, 18–19).
But while several of the characteristics S. 33 claims for the believers accord with pagan hegemonic masculine ideals, others invert, transgress, or reinterpret these. A striking example of the latter dynamic is the inversion of the pagan ideal of the tribal aristocratic man’s pride and independence by valorising submission to God as well as obedience to his prophet (Izutsu 1966: 64–5). It is the sincere believers who are counted as men true to their pledge and steadfast in the face of death, not the unmanly hypocrites. Yet at the same time, it is the sincere believers whose submission to God is said to have increased when they sighted the enemy (v. 22–3). S. 33 also reframes the pagan ideal of the warrior whose illustrious deeds on the battlefield enhance the reputation of his lineage and tribe. While it praises the believers’ bravery, it finally attributes the siege’s outcome to divine intervention (v. 9, 25–7), celebrating the power of the deity preached by Muḥammad.
Overall, S. 33 oscillates between backhanded acknowledgements of a complex and precarious situation in Yathrib, and triumphant affirmations that the prophet and his faithful followers will ultimately prevail. Muḥammad and the committed believers were evidently in a weak position. Some verses refer to ongoing social divisions and unrest, as well as slander and harassment directed at believers (v. 20, 48, 57–9, 69) which he remained powerless to put an end to (Watt 1968: 271). But the sura rejects any turn to realpolitik with its opening command to Muḥammad to not obey (lā tuṭīʿ) the pagans and the hypocrites; rather, he is to follow what God has revealed to him and rely on God (v. 1–3; also v. 48). In the light of pagan hegemonic masculine ideals, this seeming melding of a freeborn tribal aristocratic man’s unbending autonomy with a self-abasement deemed appropriate for persons of lesser status (and particularly for the enslaved) would have seemed strange, if not offensive.
S. 33 reaffirms and significantly elaborates upon an emerging alternative cosmic and social hierarchy. The prophet is positioned at its apex, as the multiple verses proclaiming his theological status and underlining his peerless authority on earth attest (v. 21, 38, 40, 45–6, 53, 56–7, 66, 71). His free male followers whose exemplarily masculine conduct during the siege is represented as demonstrating their sincere belief come next, with all other committed believers situated at various positions after them. While in some ways this hierarchy is static, this sura highlights its dynamic aspects as it appeals to, praises, defends, and summons to obedience all true believers, i.e. regardless of clan, lineage, wealth or poverty, free/freed/enslaved status, or gender (v. 35, 36, 58). At the same time, it rhetorically elevates such believers above even the most noble, influential, and rich pagans and hypocrites, who face doom in the afterlife if not before (v. 57, 60, 64–8, 73). Replacing or transmuting the already-existing web of family ties, kin-based loyalties, alliances, and patron-client relationships is presented as imperative (v. 4–6). God is the patron (walī) and helper (naṣīr), and no other protector is needed (v. 17; cf. v. 65).
Muḥammad’s marriages were evidently a key element in this slowly emerging and unstable social order. In Medina, they served several important functions, reinforcing his ties to some of his key followers, and linking him to some important families and clans then still largely pagan (Watt 1968: 287–8). These marriages would have been widely understood in terms of the usual functions of such relationships at that place and time within local economies of prestige, wealth, and power. In S. 33, they are presented as a matter of concern to the community.
One of his marriages which evidently attracted particular controversy was to Zaynab bt. Jaḥsh, as she had previously been married to his former adopted son, Zayd (v. 37–40; for an overview of the relevant verses and their interpretive history see Stowasser 1994: 87–9). While this marriage continues to receive a significant amount of scholarly attention, as far as its textual function within S. 33 is concerned, it is probably best understood as one element of this sura’s construction of the prophet’s status as unique in relation to his male followers (Rubin 2014). In any case, it is apparent that at this point in Muḥammad’s career, it is not only this marriage but all of his marriages, as well as the behaviour of his wives, which had become an issue.
Various answers to the question of why his wives’ conduct had evidently become a matter which needed to be addressed have been proposed (e.g. Stern 1939a: 113–7; Watt 1968: 285–6; Sinai 2018: 23). This rereading contends that when the choice pericope is read in light of the sura’s gendered rhetoric as discussed above, as well as in relation to the siege and its aftermath, it seems likely that there were two intertwined issues at stake. First, some of Muḥammad’s internal opponents appear to have attempted to leverage interactions with his wives in order to challenge his authority over his household and by extension over his core followers (v. 32, 58–60). By visibly asserting order within his household while “appropriately” channelling his wives’ influence, he would strengthen his hand in the face of those followers who were hedging their bets or trying to undermine him. Second, it appears that most if not all of prophet’s marital ties were under severe strain in the wake of the siege. Given the political, economic, and social significance of these relationships for his efforts to establish a polity, this posed a significant problem, which the choice pericope attempts to address.
The Choice Pericope, the ḥayāt al-dunyā and Q. 33:34a
As we have seen, v. 28–9 presents Muḥammad’s wives with an apparently stark choice. The question of what exactly this connoted is best answered by examining the Qur’an’s use of the expression al-ḥayāt al-dunyā over time (especially in concert with the roots z-y-n and m-t-ʿ), and in what ways it is set in opposition to “God, his messenger, and the Final Home” (for this method, see Izutsu 1966).
A few early Meccan verses reproach the pagans for preferring the ḥayāt al-dunyā, linking such a stance with transgression and damnation (Q. 79:37–9), as well as with failing to recognise that the Hereafter is better and more lasting (Q. 87:16–17). Over time, Meccan suras warm to this theme, associating desire for the ḥayāt al-dunyā with disbelief in the prophets, denial of the resurrection, heedlessness, loss in the hereafter, and divine punishment on earth. These suras also link such a desire to luxurious living, following one’s base desires and failing to be appropriately self-controlled (e.g. Q. 18:28; Q. 23:31–41). Taken together, such verses polemically imply that Meccan tribal leaders are weak and decadent, and that such unmanly characteristics prevent them from accepting the truth of Muḥammad’s message (for a similar dynamic in S. 43, see Saleh 2019). By contrast, in a retelling of the story of Moses and Pharaoh, the latter’s magicians finally declare their belief in the god of Moses and Aaron. When Pharaoh threatens to crucify them, they defiantly respond that he is only able to end their lives in this world. In this way, they demonstrate manly courage in the face of a tyrannical pagan once they have embraced monotheism (i.e. as preached by Muḥammad) and its comparative denigration of this world (Q. 20:70–3).
As this theme continues to receive elaboration in Mecca, condemnation is directed not only against disbelief in the afterlife, greed, selfishness, and indifference to the poor, but the pagan tribal social structure and its associated political and economic relations (see Neuwirth 2019a: 65–73). Wealth and sons are equated with the finery of this world (al-māl wa l-banūn zīnat al-ḥayāt al-dunyā – Q. 18:46). Sons along with forefathers “constituted the backbone of the pagan power paradigm” in Mecca due to its basis in lineage (Neuwirth 2014: 63). The female bodies which bear the sons go unmentioned at this stage of elaboration of this generally androcentric Qur’anic discourse.
Meccan suras display a complex attitude to this social system. On one hand, Muḥammad’s ability to preach despite opposition was due to his largely pagan clan’s adherence to the tribal norms which required them to protect him (Izutsu 1966: 59). Several verses imply that he repeatedly tried to turn the system to his advantage by trying to win over influential men (Q. 53:29; 18:28; 20:131). A few Meccan narratives seem to reflect the hope that some pagan elite women will be receptive to Muḥammad’s preaching, aiding his movement materially or through their influence (e.g. Q. 27:20–44; 28:8–12). Some verses are somewhat conciliatory – perhaps if the pagans were to repent as Jonah’s people did, they too might avert the disgrace of divine punishment in this world and be granted earthly enjoyment for a time (Q. 10:98).
Nonetheless, characterisations of the ḥayāt al-dunyā take on an increasingly harsh tone. This world’s life is fragile and of short duration, like the rain which causes plants to flourish, only to quickly become stubble (Q. 10:24); it is merely a game and a distraction (Q. 6:32). Prioritising it reflects a lack of knowledge (Q. 29:64; 30:7; 45:24). The pagans are deluded by the life of this world (gharrathumu l-ḥayātu l-dunyā) (Q. 6:130) and therefore treat God’s signs or religion frivolously (Q. 6:70; 7:51; 45:35). The story of Qārūn caricatures pagan noblemen as over-refined, feeble, and therefore unmanly. While this retelling of the tale seems to express hope that some of them might accept Muḥammad’s message and support it with their wealth and power, it finally dismisses this eventuality as unlikely, and moreover faults those people who envy their riches and social status (Q. 28:76–82).
In Mecca, this rhetoric of reversal positions the noble, wealthy, and powerful as weak and humiliated, while granting moral superiority over them to the believers, even those believers of lower status and lesser means. Its implications at that point for Muḥammad and his followers seem to have been primarily spiritual and other-worldly. But following the hijra, the this-worldly ramifications of such inversion soon came into focus with the imperative of fighting and its potential to redistribute access to resources and power. The wealth and sons of the pagans now constituted a military threat (Q. 3:10–13). Believers are exhorted to fight and thus “trade the life of this world for the life to come” (Q. 4:74). Conversely, the wish to avoid fighting is attributed to desire for the life of this world (Q. 9:38). The hypocrites’ wealth and sons enabled them to continue undermining and defying Muḥammad, while ensuring that he remained under pressure to conciliate them even late in his career (e.g. Q. 9:53ff, see Saleh 2015: 67–8).
While in Mecca it seems that Muḥammad had anticipated that the conversion of more women from leading families could aid his movement, the situation in Medina proved complicated. The famous Medinan verse listing women and sons as objects of desire among the provisions of this world, matāʿu l-ḥayāti l-dunyā (Q. 3:14) appears in a passage which declares that the pagans’ wealth and sons will not prevent their defeat (Q. 3:10ff). This verse reflects the reality that while the interests of freeborn male tribal aristocrats were at the centre of the pagan social system, its perpetuation depended on the labours, assets, and support of multiple others, including noblewomen. Freeborn female aristocrats were an integral part of this system, and their high status, influence, and access to valued resources in turn depended upon it.
In the face of the pressures on Muḥammad to appease the pagans and hypocrites, seemingly even from loyal believers, the state of his marriages and the ties they represented between him and some of his core followers would probably be seen to matter greatly. In this increasingly polarised context, if his wives or their believing kin seemed disinclined to decisively side with the prophet or were about to break off the marriage(s), then this likely would be widely regarded as an expression of non-confidence in his leadership. As such developments would unfold in his house-mosque, they would also be highly visible to the inhabitants of Medina, who could be expected to draw their own conclusions about what this portended for the future of Muḥammad’s fledgling community.
It may be that such a serious setback is what lies behind the view mentioned above (which al-Māturīdī quotes but quickly rejects) that the prophet’s wives had been entertaining the possibility of being married to other husbands. If these women’s marriages to Muḥammad ended, their kin would probably expect them to remarry, likely to men with whom it would be much more advantageous to be allied. (Such a possibility would be precluded in v. 53c, with its ban on other men marrying them).
While neither cosmic order nor an idealised monotheistic social order obtained in Medina in the wake of the siege, there was a chance that at least it might be seen to prevail at a highly visible and symbolically significant site for believers, the prophet’s house-mosque. With the offering of the choice in v. 28–9, Muḥammad is textually positioned as taking charge of the situation. He has delivered the ultimatum and set out his terms. It is now up to his wives to respond. Interestingly, while the choice pericope implies that he needs his wives’ active acceptance and cooperation if his marriages are to continue, it says nothing about their close kin, not even those who were among his core followers. This could suggest that he was not sure that he could count on the latter’s support at this juncture (unlike later, cf. Q. 66:4).
The choice between the ḥayāt al-dunyā wa zīnatahā and “God, his messenger, and the Final Home” constituted a choice between two social systems, and two worldviews. The Qur’an’s opposition of the ḥayāt al-dunyā to the afterlife is an attempt at remapping reality. The Meccans could claim success in relation to their social structure based on nobility of lineage and its associated values and dismiss Muḥammad, scoffing that this world is all there is (e.g. Q. 6:20; 45:24). But Muḥammad rejected the notion of a nobility founded on lineage in favour of superiority based on piety (Q. 49:13, see Neuwirth 2014: 53), and he claimed divinely given knowledge of both realms, this world and the hereafter. Moreover, with his effort to establish a polity in which bonds of faith rather than lineage ideally would be paramount, success in this world as well as the afterlife became a concrete possibility for believers. In the face of the ongoing instability in Medina and continual challenges from the hypocrites, the visible embodiment of this new map of reality and emerging social system in his house-mosque could be a potent means of not only making it seem tangible but on the ascendant.
At least some of the prophet’s wives apparently used to converse with “the sick of heart”, men (and perhaps others?) among his followers who were not appropriately submissive to his authority. It is unclear whether these women are admonished to take care in how they speak to such people (v. 32) due to the risk that interactions of this type could fuel salacious gossip, or because those hedging their bets would approach Muḥammad’s wives as a backchannel for communications with him (Watt 1968: 285) or his core followers (or perhaps both). In either case, such seeming receptiveness of these women to those he deemed his opponents might well be perceived as a sign of weakness. It could be taken as an indication that even some of the prophet’s closest male followers linked to him through marriage were now having doubts about the future and might be open to compromise. Such an impression would undermine Muḥammad’s authority, reflecting disarray among the most committed believers and relatedly, disorder within his household.
In its directives regarding the prophet’s wives’ seclusion (v. 32–3, 53, 55), S. 33 apparently makes use of a pagan elite practice. Available evidence appears to indicate that in the region at that time, free elite pagan women were veiled and secluded, in contrast to the enslaved (see the sources cited in Geissinger 2015: 37n.31). In relation to all other free, freed, or enslaved believing women, the prophet’s wives’ divinely mandated seclusion marks them as a female elite, while also apparently signalling that Muḥammad is prosperous enough not to need them to perform outdoor tasks (Stern 1939a: 114; Watt 1968: 284–5). Their prescribed manner of speaking with men who are deemed the prophet’s opponents makes them less accessible to those males outside of Muḥammad’s core following and sets them apart from other female believers (v. 32). It may also have been intended to signal that he saw no benefit in leaving open a backchannel of communication between such persons and himself (and/or his core followers). The seclusion of Muḥammad’s wives also intensifies the degree of social stratification among his followers by visibly privileging these women’s close male kin, who unlike most other believing men still had easy access to the prophet’s household.
Most of the commands in v. 30–4 direct Muḥammad’s wives to conduct themselves in ways that embody intercommunal boundaries. The emphasis on the prophet’s wives’ sexual rectitude (v. 30) implies their moral superiority to pagan women. The directive that they refrain from displays of conspicuous consumption through their appearance explicitly contrasts this to reputed past pagan practice (v. 33a). The stress on obedience to God and the prophet (v. 31, 33b) directs his wives to behave as all believers are repeatedly ordered to do (e.g. Q. 4:49; 5:92; 47:33; 64:12), and in contradistinction to the pagans and hypocrites (e.g. Q. 3:32, 130; 8:1, 20). At the same time, it also establishes the “correct” hierarchical order which should obtain in any believing household (Q. 4:34). The commands to perform the ṣalāt and particularly to pay the zakāt (v. 33b) – a practice the hypocrites disdained (e.g. Q. 9:67) – likewise instruct Muḥammad’s wives to embody true belief in ways that distinguish them from others as truly committed believers. Overall, these directives in the choice pericope construct a paradoxical seclusion, which renders Muḥammad’s wives less visible yet at the same time hypervisible as they mark inter- and intra-communal boundaries.
Understanding v. 34a as directing Muḥammad’s wives to memorise or recite his revelations or possibly convey them to others coheres with this rereading of v. 28–33 sketched above. Such a command would be a particularly pointed way in which these women could affirm and enact sincere faith in the truth of his revelations, in contradistinction to the pagans, who, said to be deluded by the life of this world (Q. 45:35), mock and reject these (Q. 8:31). The prophet’s wives’ conduct would also be in opposition to “the sick at heart” who are accused of refusing to heed or reflect upon the revelation (Q. 47:20ff), and the hypocrites, who ridicule “God, his revelations (āyātihi), and his messenger” (Q. 9:65). In addition, by reciting or communicating the prophet’s revelations to others, they would be acting in contradistinction to the pagan elite women who recited, transmitted, and authored poetry celebrating noble lineages and tribal bonds as they urged vengeance for their dead in the fight against Muḥammad (e.g. Ibn Hishām 2001: 525–6, 540, 887). In so doing, the Prophet’s wives would visibly and audibly embody their whole-hearted acceptance of his message, including its critique and rejection of the lineage-based pagan tribal system.
Nevertheless, it is important to note that S. 33 does not indicate how the prophet’s wives responded to any of the commands given in the choice pericope, much less this verse. Overall, the sura implies that these women’s decisions were made at the nexus of various conflicting expectations, aspirations, and demands. It is significant that the Qur’an also contains another passage rebuking them and pointedly reminding them that they can be divorced and so are not irreplaceable (Q. 66:1–5). The latter passage implies that when faced with the choice of Q. 33:28–9, at least some or most of Muḥammad’s wives did decide to remain married to him. Yet, it also suggests that even though his position by then had apparently become stronger in relation to his wives, their believing close kin, and his core followers, societal and material realities in Medina nevertheless continued to promote or enable conduct that diverged significantly from the choice pericope’s idealised model of a prophet’s wife.
But regardless of what the “originally intended” meaning of v. 34a might be, it seems to have paved the way for the later expectation that Muḥammad’s wives would have had extensive familiarity with his revelations. Whether or not any of these women did memorise large portions of these or recite them to others during his lifetime, the stage was set for the community to anticipate that a few of them at least would have done so, and to perceive them as reliable sources of “correct” recitation as well as guardians of the text.
Concluding Remarks
S. 33 reflects a difficult stage in Muḥammad’s career, while polemically attempting to shape its course. The pagan Meccan besiegers and their tribal allies had finally retreated, and the Jewish tribe of Qurayẓa had been subjugated. Nevertheless, the siege had evidently laid bare several serious problems which brought the continued survival of his fledgling polity into question, especially given the ongoing disorder in Medina. This sura responds to such doubts about the future on the part of believers while also attempting to address the weaknesses which had almost resulted in defeat and continued to roil the community. Chief among these were disunity, divided loyalties, reluctance on the part of some to obey the prophet or to fight, and an unwillingness to fully commit to his vision. Some who professed to be among Muḥammad’s followers while nevertheless hedging their bets by maintaining conflicting ties of allegiance and attempting to stake out intermediate positions between the prophet and those openly opposed to him evidently had retained significant influence following the siege.
Accordingly, S. 33 rhetorically constructs and sharpens the distinctions between an “us” and a “them”, believers and internal as well as external Others. To do so, it lays claim to pagan elite hegemonic masculine ideals while also reinterpreting and at times inverting these. The prophet and his most fully committed male followers are presented as embodying these alternative hegemonic masculine standards. By contrast, the conduct attributed to male pagans and hypocrites is stigmatised as falling far short of them. Hedging one’s bets, rather than being a reasonable approach to an uncertain situation, is thus branded as unmanly and hence disgraceful. This sura marks an important stage in the ongoing process in the Medinan Qur’an’s construction of a prophetic mode of hegemonic masculinity as well as a freeborn male believer’s mode, both of which are related in complex and at times contradictory ways to elite pagan ideals. At the same time, S. 33 also repeatedly demands that all believers, regardless of free/freed/enslaved status, lineage, wealth, gender, or any other distinction wholeheartedly follow his leadership, rejecting the temptation to fence-sit or acquiesce to such an attitude on the part of others.
When the choice pericope is read in the context of this overall dynamic, it becomes evident that it addresses a complicated situation. Muḥammad’s marriages were apparently under great strain in the wake of the siege, and these relationships as well as his wives’ potentially influential position seem to have become an issue of concern to his followers. As his marriages linked him to some of his core followers as well as to several important families and clans who were still mostly pagan, their continuation or termination could have significant implications for the future of his nascent polity. The same would be true of the perception that any of his wives and/or their kin among Muḥammad’s core followers doubted the viability of his fledgling polity or his ways of dealing with his external and internal opponents, or that they were open to compromise with the latter – or that they were reconsidering their marital alliances with him.
Muḥammad’s preaching in Mecca had harshly critiqued the pagan lineage-based tribal social structure and its associated political and economic relations. He had equated its “wealth and sons” with the finery of this world (zīnat al-ḥayāt al-dunyā), and summoned believers to reject these in favour of his alternative map of reality which asserted the superiority of the hereafter over this life and maintained that a person’s nobility does not stem from lineage, but from piety. In Medina, he attempted to establish a polity held together by bonds of faith rather than lineage. Nevertheless, his efforts to replace or transform already-existing kin-based loyalties, family ties, and other social relationships continually ran up against the social, economic, and political realities of his context. Marital alliances might well aid in consolidating his position and establishing alternative social, economic, and political links among believers, but they could also complicate matters, or even backfire.
The prophet’s proclamation of the choice pericope constituted a refusal of realpolitik in the wake of the siege, and thus marks a significant moment in Muḥammad’s career as well as in the emergence of his fledgling community. The decision to fully abandon the equivocation of those attempting to remain on the fence which S. 33 demands of all the prophet’s followers ideally would be dramatically enacted for their benefit as well as that of his opponents, in his household first and foremost. By delivering this ultimatum, he would regain the initiative in a politically fraught situation. Choosing between “the present life and its finery” or “God, his messenger, and the Final Home” meant accepting or refusing Muḥammad’s message, particularly its critique and rejection of the lineage-based pagan tribal system. If his wives accepted the conditions laid out in the choice pericope, which distinguished them in behavioural, sartorial, and ritual ways from pagan noblewomen and the highborn women among those hedging their bets, this would be visibly clear. It would serve as an object lesson to all, channelling their influence and access to resources in a direction which could help strengthen his fledgling polity.
Understanding v. 34a as directing Muḥammad’s wives to memorise or recite his revelations or possibly convey them to others coheres with this rereading of the choice pericope. Through carrying out such a command, these women could affirm and enact sincere faith in the truth of his revelations, in contradistinction to the hypocrites and pagans, including the pagan elite women who recited and transmitted poetry extolling the noble lineage of their tribe and inciting their men to battle against Muḥammad and his followers. But regardless of the “original” meaning of this verse, it is probable that there is a link between it and the later emergence of traditions which attribute involvement in the oral and/or written transmission of the quranic text to several of the prophet’s wives.