Twelve Sons, and the Most Beloved

To give a summary, then, and to refresh the memory of the story: it begins with Yaʿqūb (peace be upon him). He had twelve children. Twelve children. Yūsuf (peace be upon him) was extremely handsome. He had such ḥusn as turned every face; he was simply very attractive. And they say that he had a remarkable ḥusn, which continues to feature in the story. And not only that: his conduct, it appears, was very good as well. And he was among the youngest. He and his brother Binyāmīn — from a different mother, another wife of Yaʿqūb (peace be upon him) — were the youngest. So he was beloved not for one thing only, but for several.

There is apparently this notion that the youngest child is always the most beloved, until they grow up. The eldest child will be the most beloved until the next comes along, and so on. There is always that part of it. But sometimes an older child will remain the more beloved if he has certain qualities. It is ʿajīb: for anyone who is the child of parents — which we all are — there is a way of becoming more beloved even as the eldest. And his mother, it appears, had passed away as well. That may be another reason why so much love was focused there. And there is of course the natural inclination towards the youngest.

Ḥasan (may Allah be pleased with him), for instance, the Prophet's grandson, was asked — or rather his daughter was asked: which of your children do you love the most? And the answer given was: the youngest until they grow older, the absent one until he returns, and the sick one until they recover. It is of real interest. It is simply feeling, human feeling. If one of your children falls ill, all your attention goes there until they are better; and then they become like everyone else. Others may grow jealous in that case.

Because of all this, then, a difficulty arose. And he is of course destined to be a prophet among all his brothers, out of all of them. So he sees a dream — and dreams, mā shāʾ Allāh: the emphasis upon dreams is there from the beginning. He sees a dream and tells his father of it, and the father says: see that you do not tell it — for his father knows. So he says: do not tell the dream to your brothers.

The story, then, is that they were jealous of him, and came at length to see that if more love were to be directed towards them they must be rid of Yūsuf (peace be upon him). So they say: let us kill him. But, mā shāʾ Allāh, one of them — one of the brothers — said: no, do not kill him; let us throw him into a well or the like, and someone will pick him up, and we shall have no need to trouble ourselves. And there is much of the story: their coming back, making their excuse, bringing the blood of a sheep or the like upon his garment, saying that we went off racing and he was watching our things.

At length, mā shāʾ Allāh:

A caravan of traders was passing by; they went for water, and they drew out Yūsuf (peace be upon him). Mā shāʾ Allāh — how Yūsuf (peace be upon him) even survived the fall into the well: there are accounts of how Jibrīl (peace be upon him) swooped down and saved him; there are many further accounts which there is no time to enter upon. He is eventually taken to Egypt, which is to be the place in which he will shine — and in which, mā shāʾ Allāh, for all the Egyptians today, as soon as one enters the country, at the customs, it is set there, the verse which says:

Mā shāʾ Allāh, the Egyptians are very proud of that, of that heritage of theirs.