The Historical Beginnings of the Hijri Era

684

Do You Know About the Hijri Year?

You might have seen them. During Ramadan, mosques announces schedules containing Suhoor (pre-dawn meal) times and Iftar (fast-breaking) times – these always include the Hijri dates. Massive Islamic events, wedding congratulations for Muslim couples, and welcome banners for Hajj pilgrims are often seen posted around towns, all bearing well-wishes printed alongside dates – with the Hijri year marked by that distinctive “H.” While the Gregorian year appears in large font, the Hijri date is invariably noted in smaller print alongside it.

Most of us glance at these notices, carefully filtering out the Hijri dates, retaining only the Gregorian year, month, and day of the upcoming event – which we then record in our minds, diaries, calendars, wall planners, or smartphones.

We all know Ramadan, the subsequent Eid, and Hajj are connected to the Hijri calendar – but beyond this superficial awareness, the system holds little real significance in our daily lives.

As British imperialism spread across the world, Western nations became the default role models—for better or worse—in the eyes of all countries. Their calendar consequently became the foundational timekeeping system for most global societies. Muslim communities too adopted it wholesale in the spirit of ‘when in Rome.’ ‘Happy New Year’ now unequivocally means January 1st!

Yet—whether out of tradition, necessity, or even if Muslims themselves pay little heed—the Hijri calendar remains an inescapable fragment of their identity. That’s why, like a half-hearted afterthought, you’ll still find that diminutive ‘H.’ appended to posters, calendars, and invitations—a reluctant nod to a system that refuses to fully fade away.

The Hijri calendar has now completed 1445 years. To understand why and how it began, we must first acquaint ourselves with the concept of Hijra.

What is Hijra?

Everyone understands migration—that’s what Hijra means in Arabic. But unlike the mundane use of terms like ‘migration’ or ‘displacement’ in other languages, Hijra in the Islamic context carries immense significance and sanctity. There’s a reason for this.

Clench your fist tight, and we can leap back those 1445 years to glimpse Mecca—and return in an instant.

The son of Abdullah, Muhammad (peace be upon him), was then forty years old. Arabia lay drowned in ignorance. Having witnessed these depravities and recoiled from them, he lived quietly with his wife and children. Then suddenly, one day, the Archangel Jibreel (Gabriel, upon him be peace) descended from the heavens.

Startling Muhammad as he meditated in the cave, Jibreel seized him in a fierce embrace and proclaimed: ‘From this day forth, you are God’s Messenger.’ With these words, he delivered the first five verses of the Quran—then vanished as abruptly as he had come.

Thus Muhammad became the recipient of prophethood—the Messenger of God. Sallallahu alayhi wasallam (Peace and blessings be upon him). And so began a transformative turning point in human history.

When he began proclaiming—’No idol worship exists, no associated scriptures or rituals. There is only One God. He alone creates, sustains, will bring all to an end, will judge, and the Hereafter will begin’—most people mocked him. Only a handful responded: ‘What? One God? And you’re His Prophet? This makes sense to me—I accept.’

Those who laughed were stunned. As days passed, rage swelled. “What is this man stirring up? If we persecute his followers, they’ll fall in line,” they thought—and so began atrocities. Cruelties too horrific to be penned.

For merely saying, ‘There is only One God, and Muhammad is His final Prophet,’ a person—a woman—was tortured with such brutality that she was pierced through her genitals with a spear until she died. Such was the scale of savagery unleashed in Mecca.

The small group who embraced Islam suffered beatings and oppression under the feet of Mecca’s powerful majority. They endured patiently, but when persecution crossed all limits, some—with the Prophet’s (ﷺ) permission—abandoned their wealth, comforts, and land in Mecca. Carrying only what they could, they migrated to Abyssinia (Ethiopia).

That day marked the beginning of the Hijra in Islamic history—the first migration.

The migrations we know of today still happen as utterly ordinary occurrences. Every day, in every land, people relocate for work, jobs, luxury, marriage, or some such reason. There is nothing extraordinary in any of this.

But in Islam, Hijra is exceptional! Utterly unique! 

When one embraces the belief in the One God and begins to worship Him, what was once called ‘individual freedom’ becomes a condemned concept. Persecution arises, the right to worship is denied. Yet refusing to submit to this oppression, abandoning everything for the sake of God – this solitary believer leaves behind all relationships, possessions, and property, departing from the very soil of their birth. This is what grants Hijra its extraordinary distinction. To cast off everything in an instant and set forth solely for that One God – this is what elevates it to world-historic significance.

To what extent?

That man becomes like a newborn child—fresh, untouched, pure. What about sins or wrongs he committed before? Wiped away completely. For him, a rebirth begins. This is why Hijra is sacred. A holiness decreed by the One God.

Recall how one group first undertook Hijra to Abyssinia? Then another group arose and migrated to Medina. For all these Muslims, it bestowed immense honor and elevated their status—an indelible mark of distinction. Hijra became their certificate of spiritual merit. No Oscar, Nobel, or worldly honor could ever equal it.

In Mecca, the Muslims’ existence had become an unending ordeal—each day brought fresh torment, each moment new trials. Thirteen years passed, yet the persecution only intensified. The Quraysh’s brutality swelled like a rising tide.

Then came a turning point: the people of Medina entered into the Pact of Aqaba with the Prophet (ﷺ), creating a welcoming refuge. Gradually, Muslims began migrating to that city—yet the Prophet himself waited. But as the situation deteriorated daily, and the Quraysh resolved to assassinate him, divine permission finally arrived: ‘Migrate!’

Let us examine this moment in fuller detail.

oOo

It was customary for the Prophet (ﷺ) to visit Abu Bakr’s home without fail—morning or evening. Such was their bond. A friendship so extraordinary, so divinely profound, that the closeness between them radiated sublime beauty. But on this day, he came at an unusual hour: high noon, when the scorching Meccan sun split skulls and people sheltered indoors. Only Abu Bakr’s two daughters—Asma and Aisha (may Allah be pleased with them)—were present when the Messenger of Allah arrived.

‘This must be gravely important,’ Abu Bakr thought, startled. ‘Else why would Allah’s Messenger come at this hour?’

The Prophet (ﷺ) settled calmly onto Abu Bakr’s cot and instructed: ‘Ask those with you to withdraw.’

‘O Messenger of Allah!’ Abu Bakr responded, ‘May my father and mother be sacrificed for you! These are only my daughters. What is the matter?’

The Prophet (ﷺ) replied: ‘Permission has been granted to me to emigrate.’

Abu Bakr’s voice trembled as he asked the question that weighed on his soul: ‘O Messenger of Allah—companionship?’ (Was there permission for him to accompany the Prophet?)

The answer came like dawn after a long night: ‘Yes. Companionship.’

Tears streamed down Abu Bakr’s face—tears of pure joy. Aisha (may Allah be pleased with her) watched in wonder: Could happiness make one weep like this?

Then Abu Bakr, the prepared believer, revealed his foresight: ‘O Messenger of Allah! Here are my two she-camels—I have kept them prepared precisely for this moment.’

The Prophet (ﷺ), ever just, insisted: ‘Then I will take them only if I pay their price.’

But Abu Bakr would have none of it. ‘What talk is this?’ his gesture seemed to say. ‘These are my gift to you.’

‘O Abu Bakr!’ said the Prophet (ﷺ), ‘This journey is undertaken for Allah’s sake. I wish to bear its expenses from my own wealth—for I seek the reward for this spending from none but Allah.’

The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ)—unmoved by the suffering he had endured or the unimaginable trials ahead—stood resolved to accumulate every possible ounce of divine reward. That noble man, Sallallahu alayhi wasallam, positioned himself at the threshold of every opportunity to earn Allah’s boundless grace!

Asma and Aisha (may Allah be pleased with them) swiftly prepared the journey’s provisions. They packed food and a mat for meals into a travel bundle. When Asma pondered how to tie the bundle, she tore her waistcloth in two and used half as a rope. From that day, she earned the title Dhātun-Nitāqayn—’The Woman of Two Belts’.

In Mecca, when the Quraysh discovered the Prophet’s absence, Medina would be their first suspicion. Avoiding the usual Medina route became essential—an alternate path was needed. For this, the Prophet (ﷺ) hired Abdullah ibn Urayqit, an expert non-Muslim guide renowned for his trustworthiness. Entrusting him with two camels, he instructed: ‘Safeguard these and bring them to the designated place on the appointed day.’

The secret migration plan was known only to Ali, Abu Bakr, and his household (may Allah be pleased with them)—a closely guarded trust.

Night fell. As the Quraysh’s assassins closed in on the Prophet’s (ﷺ) home to murder him in his sleep, he executed a divine stratagem: he had Ali (may Allah be pleased with him) lie on his bed, then slipped away unseen—leaving the would-be killers grasping at shadows. The Prophet (ﷺ) made his way to Abu Bakr’s house, where his companion stood ready. Through a hidden back door, the two escaped into the night.

But instead of heading north toward Medina, they took the counterintuitive southern route toward Yemen—a masterstroke of misdirection. Their destination: the Cave of Thawr. Don’t picture some shallow mountain hollow; this was a deep, plunging crevice where the Prophet (ﷺ) and Abu Bakr now lay concealed.

When the Quraysh discovered their prey had vanished, Mecca erupted. Trackers scoured every path. Following faint clues, they reached the very foothills where Thawr’s cave yawned open—unaware that history’s most-wanted men huddled just beyond their sight.

When Abu Bakr peered out, he saw their feet moving perilously close above them. Overcome with dread, tears streamed down his face.

The Prophet (ﷺ) looked at him with gentle inquiry—Why these tears?

In a hushed whisper, Abu Bakr confessed: ‘By Allah, O Messenger of Allah! I weep not for myself. My fear is solely for you—that some harm should befall you.’

Then came the Prophet’s unshakable reassurance: ‘Grieve not. Allah is with us.’ And with those words, divine tranquility descended upon Abu Bakr’s heart.

Still watching the feet of their pursuers moving above, Abu Bakr whispered in a trembling voice: ‘O Messenger of Allah! If any one of them merely glances downward, they will discover us.’

The Prophet’s (ﷺ) response carried the weight of mountains: ‘What think you of two when Allah is their Third?’ What manner of certainty was this? What depth of unshakable faith!

Just then, one of the men standing above declared: ‘Let us descend into this cave and see what lies within.’

Umayyah ibn Khalaf scoffed mockingly: ‘Look here! A spider’s web adorns the entrance—older than Muhammad himself!’ With this seemingly trivial detail, Allah planted in their hearts the illusion of an abandoned, untouched cavern—effortlessly working a miracle. Who could fathom the strategies of Heaven’s warriors?

Yet Abu Jahl’s unease festered: ‘By Al-Lat and Al-Uzza! Muhammad is here somewhere—watching us, hearing us! His sorcery has blinded our eyes from seeing him!’

Abu Bakr had another son named Abdullah—a remarkably sharp-witted boy who was on his teens then. This young intelligence operative moved undetected among the Quraysh by day, gathering critical information: their plans, their next moves, the intensity of their search. As night fell, he would slip away to the Cave of Thawr, briefing the Prophet (ﷺ) and Abu Bakr on Mecca’s developments before spending the night with them. Before dawn, he would vanish back home.

Meanwhile, Amir ibn Fuhayra—a freed slave of Abu Bakr and a devoted Muslim—executed his own crucial role. Each evening, he would discreetly herd his goats toward the cave, providing fresh milk to sustain the fugitives. By daybreak, following Abdullah’s departure, Amir would drive his flock back to Mecca, their hooves expertly erasing all footprints—a simple yet brilliant tactic to confound the Quraysh’s expert trackers. Such unassuming strategies kept the enraged but witless enemies chasing shadows.

Thus passed three nights. Then, as prearranged, their guide Abdullah ibn Urayqat arrived before dawn with two camels. With Amir joining them, the monumental journey began—the Hijra that would birth an era.

Yet, the Hijri calendar had not yet come into being.

oOo

The journey began on the 27th of Safar. After nearly a month of travel—taking circuitous routes to evade the pursuing Quraysh—they finally reached Yathrib on the 23rd of Rabi’ al-Awwal. The city now transformed into Madinatun-Nabi (The City of the Prophet), ready to inscribe a new chapter in history. (In an era without modern transport, this camelback journey through detours naturally took weeks!)

Today, when Hajj pilgrims grumble about the 4hour bus ride from Mecca to Medina stretching to 8hours with delays, one might doze off imagining the Prophet’s (ﷺ) arduous journey—only to wake with tears dampening one’s cheeks.

Afterward, the remaining Muslims from Mecca migrated gradually to Medina. Later, those who had sought refuge in Abyssinia also made their way to the city of the Prophet (ﷺ).

Yet still, the Hijri calendar remained unused.

After the Prophet’s (ﷺ) passing, Abu Bakr (may Allah be pleased with him) led the Ummah for roughly two and a half years—still, the Hijri calendar did not come into practice.

Then came Umar (may Allah be pleased with him) as the second Caliph. During these first two caliphates, Islam’s influence began expanding beyond Arabia’s borders. Islamic history was being written! But history requires documentation—dates, months… yet what of the year?

Still, the Hijri calendar remained unestablished.

Umar ibn al-Khattab (may Allah be pleased with him) had been ruling for over two years when a letter arrived—its sender unaware of the seismic shift it would trigger. The letter’s content—whether a routine inquiry or administrative matter—was irrelevant. What mattered was its date: “Sha‘ban, such-and-such day.”

Umar frowned. ‘Sha‘ban? The past Sha‘ban? Next year’s Sha‘ban? This year’s Sha‘ban?’ How could one determine the year?

This ambiguity compelled him to convene the Muhajireen (migrants from Mecca) and Ansar (Medinan supporters). The question hung in the air: How should history be marked?

‘We must establish a calendar for our people,’ declared Umar. ‘Where should we begin our history? Advise me.’

One companion proposed: ‘Why not adopt the Roman calendar?’

Umar dismissed it: ‘Their count begins from Alexander’s era—hardly suitable for us.’

Another suggested the Persian system. ‘Nonsense!’ came the reply. ‘Their kings reset the calendar with each new reign—one scratches out the old ruler’s years like settling debts!’ (Modern politicians might relate—though thankfully, they don’t meddle with calendars!)

Then rose the decisive voice: ‘Why wander East and West? Our life and guidance come from Muhammad (ﷺ). This too we must derive from him.’

As consensus solidified, four pivotal moments from the Prophet’s life were proposed: the Prophet’s (ﷺ) birth year, the start of his mission, the Hijra, and his passing. But which should mark Year One?

Debate erupted. No consensus existed on his birth year. The start of his prophethood? Disputes persisted. His death? Unthinkable—that black day when the world itself seemed to darken for the Companions. Too painful to commemorate.

Then rose the decisive voice: ‘The Hijra—when Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) migrated from Mecca’s idolatry to Medina. Our history’s true turning point!’

Umar consulted Ali (may Allah be pleased with him), who affirmed: ‘Let our calendar begin from his exodus from that city drowned in shirk. This alone is right.’

And so it was decided!

But here arose a question: The Prophet’s (ﷺ) journey had begun in Safar (the second month) and ended in Rabi’ al-Awwal (the third month). Why, then, was Muharram designated as the first month?

Imam Ibn Hajar (may Allah have mercy on him) unraveled this puzzle: ‘Though the physical journey commenced in Safar, the decisive resolve for Hijra crystallized in Muharram. The Second Pact of Aqaba—the precursor to migration—occurred in Dhul-Hijja. The very next month, Muharram, became the season of divine resolution. Thus, it stands as the fitting head of the Islamic year.’

And so the Hijri calendar was born.

The era of Umar ibn al-Khattab’s (may Allah be pleased with him) caliphate stands as a golden age in Islamic history. Among its crowning achievements was the establishment of the Hijri calendar—a masterstroke of governance that unified the rapidly expanding Muslim empire across continents.

Today, when we say ‘Hijri 1446,’ it is no mere number. Within it pulses the roots of Islamic history—the very soil from which our legacy grew. Every digit whispers stories of sacrifice, of a divine journey that reshaped the world!

Nooruddin

(This article was originally written by me in my native language Tamil 15 years ago. I’ve now translated it into English, updating the Hijri year reference.)

Image courtesy: Meta AI