Islam Watch

Muhammad’s First Revelations: Divine Encounter or Human Construction?

Introduction: Revelation or Reinvention?

The moment Muhammad first received what Muslims believe to be divine revelation is seen as the turning point in human history by over a billion believers. The scene: a 40-year-old man in solitude in a cave, visited by the angel Gabriel. But when this event is peeled away from theological gloss and placed under the lens of critical inquiry, it begins to unravel. The image of a man trembling in fear, convinced he might be possessed, who is then reassured not by the angel of God but by his wife, opens a window into a deeply human — not divine — experience.

This article critically examines the first revelations Muhammad received and the role Khadijah played in not just supporting, but arguably creating, the very idea of his prophethood. What emerges is not a supernatural event but a psychological, social, and political process — with Khadijah at its epicenter.

I. The First Encounter in the Cave: Trauma or Theophany?

According to Islamic tradition, Muhammad’s first revelation occurred in the Cave of Hira. He was meditating when the angel Jibril (Gabriel) appeared and commanded him to “Read!” Muhammad reportedly protested that he could not, but the angel repeated the command, eventually revealing the first verses of the Qur'an (96:1–5).

What’s striking is Muhammad’s reaction. He did not rejoice. He panicked. He fled the cave in fear, believing he had been possessed by a jinn, a common belief in pre-Islamic Arabia regarding sudden, overwhelming experiences. This alone is telling. If Muhammad himself interpreted the experience negatively at first, what changed his mind?

The shift did not come from a divine source. It came from Khadijah.

II. Khadijah: The First Believer — or the First Architect?

Far from being a passive bystander, Khadijah becomes the theological linchpin in Muhammad’s journey. When he recounts the terrifying experience, Khadijah doesn't express concern about his mental health or doubt his claims. Instead, she instantly affirms him, saying, “Allah would never disgrace you…” and reassures him that he is a good man.

But she doesn’t stop there. She takes him to Waraqah ibn Nawfal, her Christian cousin and a known Ebionite or Nestorian (a proto-Christian sect). Waraqah then declares that the being who visited Muhammad is none other than the angel Gabriel, the same who spoke to Moses.

This is no small claim. It was Waraqah — not Gabriel — who identified the spirit as divine, and it was Khadijah who initiated the validation.

This raises a disturbing but necessary question: Was the idea that Muhammad was a prophet planted by Khadijah and Waraqah?

Their motivations may have been more than just spiritual. Khadijah, a powerful woman in a male-dominated society, had both the motive and the means to elevate her husband’s status. A prophet-husband would make her the matriarch of a new religious movement. Waraqah, meanwhile, may have seen in Muhammad a vessel through whom monotheism could finally dominate pagan Mecca.

What we witness here is not divine revelation — but human engineering of a prophetic identity.

III. A Pattern of Psychological Struggle

Even after Khadijah and Waraqah's affirmation, Muhammad remained uncertain. Multiple Islamic sources (such as al-Tabari and Ibn Ishaq) report that he attempted suicide by throwing himself off a cliff. This detail, often omitted in public discourse, is revealing. A man commissioned by God with the most important message in history was apparently so confused and distraught that he tried to end his life.

Why?

Because, from a psychological point of view, Muhammad was not experiencing divine peace or confidence — he was wrestling with trauma, confusion, and possible delusion. The sudden flood of auditory and visual hallucinations, the sensation of being choked, and the overwhelming fear of madness all point to a human breakdown, not a divine breakthrough.

What changed was not the experience — but the interpretation of the experience. And that interpretation was handed to him by Khadijah and Waraqah.

IV. Theological Problems: Why Wasn’t Gabriel More Clear?

Another issue arises: If this was truly divine revelation, why was Gabriel so ambiguous and terrifying? Why did he not announce clearly and kindly that Muhammad was chosen by God? Why did it take Khadijah and Waraqah to identify the encounter as divine?

This contradicts the biblical pattern of revelation, where God’s messengers usually announce themselves clearly — “Do not be afraid. I am Gabriel who stands in the presence of God…” (Luke 1:19). Yet in Muhammad’s case, there is no such assurance from the divine agent — only fear, doubt, and confusion.

This discrepancy weakens the Islamic claim of divine consistency. If Gabriel behaved so differently here, perhaps this wasn’t Gabriel at all — or perhaps there was no angel, only a man in a cave wrestling with inner voices.

V. Waraqah and the Christianity of the Time: Borrowing or Revelation?

Waraqah ibn Nawfal was familiar with the Christian scriptures, particularly the Gospel as understood by heterodox sects. He immediately connects Muhammad’s experience with Moses, not Jesus — a theological sleight of hand that suits Islamic claims that Muhammad is in line with Jewish prophets.

But here’s the issue: Was Waraqah imposing his own Christian expectations onto Muhammad’s experience? Was he reinterpreting a psychological event into a prophetic one through the lens of apocalyptic Judaism or Ebionite Christianity?

It would not be the last time Islamic scripture mirrors apocryphal Christian traditions. From Jesus speaking in the cradle (Qur'an 19:29–30, cf. the Arabic Infancy Gospel) to the Cave Sleepers (Surah al-Kahf, cf. the story of the Seven Sleepers), Islam seems to adopt and adapt existing stories to fit its new narrative.

Muhammad’s "revelation" appears to be the first act in this religious mimicry — with Waraqah and Khadijah as stage managers.

VI. The Sociopolitical Context of Mecca: Fertile Ground for a New Prophet

To fully grasp the significance of Muhammad’s early revelations and the role Khadijah played, one must also understand the volatile and opportunistic environment of Mecca in the 6th and 7th centuries. The emergence of a prophetic figure was not simply a matter of private spirituality — it was an event with deep social and political implications.

1. Mecca: A City of Commerce, Conflict, and Idolatry

Mecca in Muhammad’s time was a thriving commercial hub that sat at the crossroads of key trade routes between Yemen and the Levant. The city was dominated by the Quraysh tribe, a merchant aristocracy that controlled the Kaaba, which housed the idols of hundreds of tribal gods.

The Kaaba gave Mecca religious prestige and served as a center of pilgrimage and commerce. Idolatry was not just a religious practice; it was economically advantageous. Pilgrims came to worship, and they brought money, goods, and influence. To challenge idolatry was, therefore, to challenge the economic foundations of Meccan society.

2. Spiritual Malaise and Religious Crossroads

While polytheism was dominant, monotheistic ideas were already circulating in Mecca. Trade routes brought Meccans into contact with Jews, Christians, and Hanifs — Arab monotheists who rejected idol worship but had not embraced Judaism or Christianity in full.

The presence of people like Waraqah ibn Nawfal shows that biblical thought was not foreign to the Arabian Peninsula. Many Meccans were aware of stories of Abraham, Moses, and Jesus — but no prophetic voice had yet arisen to claim divine authority among the Arabs themselves.

This vacuum created a ripe opportunity. If someone could unify Arab tribes under a new monotheism, they could also reshape the region’s political and social order. The stage was set for a charismatic figure to seize this moment.

3. Muhammad: From Marginal Orphan to Potential Messiah

Muhammad’s early life as an orphan in a tribal society where bloodline was everything left him socially vulnerable, despite being from the respected Quraysh. He lacked inherited wealth or tribal dominance. His marriage to Khadijah changed this — she was not only wealthy but connected to the religious elite (Waraqah) and gave him a new platform of legitimacy.

Seen through this lens, the rise of Muhammad as a prophet wasn’t just a religious story — it was a social transformation narrative. His prophethood gave him a status no tribal bloodline could. And it offered a unifying ideology in a fractious and economically competitive society.

Khadijah, with her resources and religious connections, and Waraqah, with his theological blueprint, could easily have seen in Muhammad the potential to synthesize monotheistic ideas into a new Arabian revelation — one that could consolidate power, challenge Qurayshi religious dominance, and provide moral authority under divine pretense.

Conclusion: The Birth of a Manufactured Prophet

The first revelations of Muhammad, when critically examined, show clear signs of theological fabrication, psychological distress, and social engineering. Far from being a clear and divine encounter, the narrative reads like the construction of a prophet by those around him — particularly his wife Khadijah and her cousin Waraqah.

If Muhammad had not married a wealthy, influential woman who had religious connections and a motive for his success, would Islam have ever been born?

If Khadijah had reacted with skepticism rather than support — would Muhammad have gone on to found a global religion?

These are not merely rhetorical questions. They point to the fragile and human nature of Islam’s foundation — one dependent not on divine certainty, but on emotional reassurance and external validation.

And thus, in the cave of Hira, Islam was not born through fire and glory, but through fear, confusion, and the persuasive influence of a powerful woman with a theological agenda.