Hadith Text
وَعَنْ أَبِي عَبْدِ الرَّحْمَنِ عَبْدِ اللَّهِ بْنِ مَسْعُودٍ رَضِيَ اللَّهُ عَنْهُ قَالَ: كَأَنِّي أَنْظُرُ إِلَى رَسُولِ اللَّهِ صَلَّى اللهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ يَحْكِي نَبِيّاً مِنَ الأَنْبِيَاءِ صَلَوَاتُ اللَّهِ وَسَلَامُهُ عَلَيْهِمْ، ضَرَبَهُ قَوْمُهُ فَأَدْمَوْهُ، وَهُوَ يَمْسَحُ الدَّمَ عَنْ وَجْهِهِ، يَقُولُ: «اللَّهُمَّ اغْفِرْ لِقَوْمِي فَإِنَّهُمْ لَا يَعْلَمُونَ». مُتَّفَقٌ عَلَيْهِ.
Full Translation
On the authority of Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman ‘Abdullah ibn Mas’ud (may Allah be pleased with him) who said:
It is as if I am looking right now at the Messenger of Allah ﷺ — imitating a prophet from among the prophets (may Allah’s salawat and peace be upon them) — whose people had struck him and made him bleed. And he was wiping the blood from his face, saying:
“O Allah — forgive my people, for they do not know.”
Agreed upon.
Meanings of Key Words
- Ka-anni anzuru (كَأَنِّي أَنْظُرُ) — it is as if I am looking right now; Ibn Mas’ud is using the present tense of vivid recall — not “I remember seeing” but “I am seeing, right now, as I speak.” The image of the Prophet ﷺ in that moment of narration was so precisely preserved in his memory that decades later it was still immediate, still visual, still alive before his eyes. This is one of the most powerful openings in the hadith literature — a companion saying: the scene is in front of me
- Yahki (يَحْكِي) — imitating, enacting, embodying; not merely describing with words but performing — re-enacting the prophet’s posture, movement, gesture. The Prophet ﷺ showed the companions what this prophet looked like. He became the scene in front of them. Ibn Mas’ud watched the Prophet ﷺ become another prophet — and the image never left him
- Nabiyyan min al-anbiya’ (نَبِيّاً مِنَ الأَنْبِيَاءِ) — a prophet from among the prophets; not named. The scholars of hadith have discussed who this prophet was — many say it was the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ himself at the Battle of Uhud, others say it refers to a prophet before him, perhaps from the Children of Israel. The deliberate non-naming is significant: the teaching is universal. It could be any prophet. The lesson belongs to prophethood as a whole
- Daraba-hu qawmuhu fa-adamwhu (ضَرَبَهُ قَوْمُهُ فَأَدْمَوْهُ) — his people struck him and made him bleed; qawmuhu — his own people. Not strangers, not an enemy nation — the very people he was sent to. They struck him with enough force to draw blood. And adamwhu — they made him bleed — the verb indicates the blood was real and flowing, not a minor wound
- Wa huwa yamsha h al-dama ‘an wajhih (وَهُوَ يَمْسَحُ الدَّمَ عَنْ وَجْهِهِ) — while he was wiping the blood from his face; the present participle — he is wiping, the action is ongoing. He has not stopped, cleaned himself, and then spoken. He is speaking while wiping the blood. The du’a and the wiping are simultaneous. The wound is fresh and the forgiveness is immediate
- Allahumma ighfir li-qawmi (اللَّهُمَّ اغْفِرْ لِقَوْمِي) — O Allah, forgive my people; li-qawmi — for my people. Not “forgive those who struck me.” Not “forgive my enemies.” My people — a word of ownership and belonging. He claimed them even as they were bleeding him. The relationship of prophethood — of being sent to a people — did not end when they struck him. They were still his people
- Fa-innahum la ya’lamun (فَإِنَّهُمْ لَا يَعْلَمُونَ) — for they do not know; the justification he offered to Allah for why they should be forgiven. Not: they are weak. Not: I forgive them. Not: overlook their sin. But: they do not know. Ignorance as the grounds for mercy. The prophet understood that the people hitting him did not understand what they were doing — who they were hitting, what they were refusing, what they were throwing away. And that ignorance, in his eyes, was reason enough to ask for their forgiveness rather than their punishment
Hadith Lessons
This is the shortest hadith in the chapter — shorter even than Hadith 31. It contains one scene, one action, and twelve Arabic words of du’a. And within those twelve words is what many of the scholars of tarbiyah consider the single highest expression of patience in the entire chapter: a prophet, bleeding from wounds his own people gave him, asking Allah not to punish them but to forgive them — because they do not know.
The Prophet ﷺ Became the Scene
Ibn Mas’ud does not say: the Prophet ﷺ told us about a prophet. He says: I am looking at the Prophet ﷺ imitating a prophet. The Prophet ﷺ enacted it. He showed the companions what this prophet looked like — the posture, the gesture of wiping blood from the face, the words spoken in that moment. He performed it for them.
This pedagogical choice — to show rather than merely tell — is itself a lesson in how the Prophet ﷺ taught. The scene needed to be seen, not just heard. The image needed to be placed in the companions’ memories in a way that no verbal description could achieve. And it worked: decades later, Ibn Mas’ud could still see it. The Prophet ﷺ wiping his face, speaking those words — it was in front of Ibn Mas’ud’s eyes as he narrated.
The scholars of seerah note that this scene almost certainly reflects what happened at the Battle of Uhud — when the Prophet ﷺ himself was struck, his face was wounded, his tooth was broken, blood ran down his face — and in that moment he said these exact words. Whether he was narrating another prophet’s story or whether the scene he enacted was his own, the words are the same. The du’a is the same. Allahumma ighfir li-qawmi fa-innahum la ya’lamun. O Allah, forgive my people — for they do not know.
The Sequence That Is Impossible Without Prophetic Character
Consider what is happening in this scene:
He has been struck. By his own people — the ones he was sent to save, the ones he had spent years calling, warning, loving, bearing patience with. They struck him hard enough to draw blood. He is physically wounded. The blood is on his face, running, real.
And in that moment — while wiping it — he speaks. Not a cry of pain. Not an expression of outrage. Not even a neutral silence. He speaks to Allah. And what he says is: forgive them.
The patience in this hadith is not the patience of endurance — of simply not reacting, of holding back anger. That would already be remarkable. This is something beyond that: it is the patience of a heart so completely free from ego and so completely occupied with the welfare of those who are hurting it, that the immediate response to being wounded is concern for the wounders. He is not asking Allah to help him bear the pain. He is not asking Allah to restrain his response. He is asking Allah to forgive the people whose hands have just bloodied his face.
“For They Do Not Know” — The Frame That Makes Forgiveness Possible
The justification the prophet offers is not sentimental. It is not simply “I forgive them” — a personal decision to release resentment. It is a theological claim about the state of the people who struck him: they do not know.
They do not know who they are striking. They do not know what they are refusing. They do not know what the consequences of their rejection will be for them. They do not know what they are throwing away.
This framing — ignorance as the grounds for seeking forgiveness — is one of the most important principles in Islamic ethics of da’wah and human relationship. The scholars of tarbiyah note that the greatest protection against bitterness toward people who wrong you is the recognition of their ignorance. Not in the sense of excusing all wrongdoing — but in the sense of understanding that most human cruelty comes not from malice fully informed but from people who do not understand what they are doing, what it costs the one they harm, what it costs themselves spiritually, what is available to them that they are destroying through their own hands.
When you see the person who harms you as someone who does not know — as someone whose harmful act is itself a form of deprivation, a form of loss — the response shifts from anger to something closer to grief on their behalf. The prophet wiping blood from his face was not suppressing rage. He was genuinely seeing his people clearly: they are striking me because they do not know. And because they do not know, they need forgiveness more than they need punishment.
The Most Refined Station of Patience
The chapter has moved through a progression:
- Patience as the best gift (Hadith 26)
- Patience transforming the believer’s entire affair into goodness (Hadith 27)
- Patience at the graveside and through the death of the Prophet ﷺ (Hadith 28)
- Patience with tears — mercy and patience coexisting (Hadith 29)
- Patience unto fire and death (Hadith 30)
- Patience at the first blow (Hadith 31)
- Patience rewarded with Paradise for the loss of the safiyy (Hadith 32)
- Patience through plague, earning the martyr’s reward (Hadith 33)
- Patience through blindness — eyes exchanged for Paradise (Hadith 34)
- Patience chosen over cure — the woman of Jannah (Hadith 35)
And now — this. The patience that does not merely endure, does not merely hold, does not merely direct its pain toward Allah. The patience that, at the moment of the wound, turns toward the wounders with forgiveness and intercession.
This is the summit of what Imam al-Nawawi has been building toward. The other hadiths showed patience receiving — receiving hardship with the right response. This hadith shows patience giving — giving forgiveness, giving intercession, giving concern for the welfare of the very people who caused the harm — in the very moment the harm is being caused.
The scholars of tasawwuf call this maqam al-ihsan fi al-sabr — the station of excellence in patience. It is not sufficient to bear the pain. Excellence is to respond to the pain with a quality of heart toward those who caused it that reflects the station of prophethood: they do not know — so forgive them.
This Du’a — Its Place in Islamic History
Allahumma ighfir li-qawmi fa-innahum la ya’lamun has become one of the most taught du’as in the Islamic tradition — not as a liturgical formula for regular recitation, but as the model response to being wronged by people who do not understand what they are doing.
When a caller to Allah is mocked. When a scholar is rejected. When a person of faith is treated with contempt by those closest to them. When someone bears the consequences of another person’s ignorance and pays the price with their own body or honour or peace — this is the du’a. Not: O Allah punish them. Not: O Allah show them what they have done. But: O Allah forgive them — because they do not know.
The Prophet ﷺ himself said this at Uhud when his face was bloodied. The same words. His embodiment of the earlier prophet was not performance — it was the expression of his own soul, which had reached the same station by the same path: love for the people he was sent to, understanding of their ignorance, and the complete absence of personal grievance in the face of personal injury.
Three Questions to Close With
- Is there someone in my life who has wounded me — struck me in some way, drawn blood in the metaphorical sense — from whom I have withheld forgiveness? And what would it mean to apply this du’a to them: they do not know — and to ask Allah to forgive them rather than to punish them?
- The prophet spoke this du’a while wiping the blood — not after he had cleaned himself and composed himself and thought it through. The forgiveness was immediate, simultaneous with the wound. How far is my own immediate response to being wronged from this? And is there a practice I can build that moves my first response closer to this station?
- Ibn Mas’ud said: it is as if I am looking at him right now. The image was so alive in him decades later that he described it in the present tense. What image of the Prophet ﷺ do I carry inside me — and is it alive enough that I could say the same?