Chapter 5: Part 6 - Ali رَضِيَ ٱللَّٰهُ عَنْهُمْ - The Lion of The Desert!
Human beings had always been required to apply the Qur'an to human affairs. Judges interpreted disputes. Leaders made decisions. Agreements were negotiated. The issue was not whether Allah was the ultimate Judge. The issue was whether Muslims could appoint representatives to seek a settlement according to the Book of Allah.
THE BRIEF HISTORY OF ISLAM!
Danish Shafiq
6/12/202613 min read
Chapter 5: Part 6 - Ali رضي الله عنه - The Lion of The Desert!
Governance, Burden, and the Final Days of the Fourth Caliph
The Battle of Nahrawān had ended.
But Ali ibn Abi Talib رضي الله عنه did not return to a Caliphate restored.
He returned to a Caliphate exhausted.
The great confrontation with Muʿawiyah رضي الله عنه remained unresolved. The wounds of Jamal had not disappeared. Siffin had divided men who had once stood together. The arbitration had produced further uncertainty. And Nahrawān had opened yet another wound within Ali's رضي الله عنه own camp.
The Caliph had fought enemies.
He had fought rebels.
He had fought those who had once stood beside him.
And yet the greatest challenge before him was now neither a battlefield nor a fortress.
It was governance.
How does a ruler govern an Ummah that no longer speaks with one voice?
How does he administer justice when people disagree over what justice itself requires?
How does he preserve equality when powerful men expect privilege?
And how does a Caliph remain faithful to principle when political compromise may appear easier than truth?
Ali رضي الله عنه would spend the remaining years of his life wrestling with these questions.
And perhaps this is where his greatness becomes easier to understand.
He had been the young warrior of Badr.
The defender of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ at Uhud.
The man who confronted ʿAmr ibn ʿAbd Wudd at Khandaq.
The bearer of the banner at Khaybar.
The husband of Fatimah رضي الله عنها.
The father of Hasan and Husayn رضي الله عنهما.
The companion who had lived through the caliphates of Abu Bakr, Umar, and Uthman رضي الله عنهم.
Now he was something else.
He was Amir al-Muʾminin.
And the sword that had once defended the Messenger of Allah ﷺ would now have to carry the far heavier responsibility of governing the people who followed him.
The Capital Moves to Kufa
After the Battle of the Camel, Ali رضي الله عنه did not return permanently to Madinah.
The political centre of gravity had moved.
Iraq had become the heart of his remaining power base, while Syria remained firmly under Muʿawiyah رضي الله عنه.
Ali رضي الله عنه therefore made Kufa his principal seat of government.
This decision was not merely symbolic.
Kufa was one of the great military settlements of the expanding Muslim state. It contained veterans of the conquests, tribal leaders, scholars, soldiers, and a population deeply involved in the political affairs of Iraq.
It was also a city whose people had given Ali رضي الله عنه substantial support during the First Fitnah.
Yet Kufa carried its own difficulties.
Its people were not united in temperament or political judgment.
Some were fiercely loyal to Ali رضي الله عنه.
Some wanted war against Syria.
Some wanted peace.
Some were exhausted by years of campaigning.
Others wanted the Caliph to act more forcefully.
Ali رضي الله عنه therefore governed from a city that was simultaneously his greatest source of strength and one of his greatest political challenges.
The very people who had helped sustain his Caliphate could also become impatient with his decisions.
And Ali رضي الله عنه refused to build his rule simply upon satisfying every political demand.
His principles were becoming increasingly clear.
A Caliph Who Refused to Turn Power into Privilege
One of the most distinctive features associated with Ali's رضي الله عنه governance was his insistence upon equality in the public treasury.
He did not believe that wealth, tribal prestige, political influence, or proximity to the ruler should automatically translate into a greater share of public resources.
The treasury belonged to the Muslim community.
It was not the personal property of the Caliph.
It was not a reward to be distributed among political allies.
And it was not a tool through which powerful men could be purchased.
After the Battle of the Camel, reports describe Ali رضي الله عنه distributing the wealth in the public treasury equally among the Muslims rather than reserving greater shares for the influential or for those who had recently joined his camp.
This principle was politically costly.
Powerful tribal figures could be difficult to satisfy when they were offered the same share as ordinary Muslims.
Men accustomed to greater political influence could find Ali's رضي الله عنه insistence upon equality uncomfortable.
But this was precisely the point.
Ali رضي الله عنه did not want the Caliphate to become another form of tribal aristocracy.
He wanted the authority entrusted to him to remain an Amanah.
A trust before Allah.
And that conviction shaped much of his political conduct.
His supporters did not merely admire his courage.
Many admired him because they believed that he could not easily be bought.
He was difficult to manipulate with wealth.
Difficult to impress with status.
And difficult to persuade when he believed that a principle was at stake.
The same quality that made him an extraordinary man of conviction could, however, also make governing a fractured political world extraordinarily difficult.
The Men Who Stood Beside Ali رضي الله عنه
Ali رضي الله عنه was never alone.
Around him stood a remarkable group of men.
There was Hasan ibn Ali رضي الله عنه, his beloved son.
There was Husayn ibn Ali رضي الله عنه, whose life would later become one of the most tragic stories in Islamic history.
There was Abdullah ibn Abbas رضي الله عنهما, a man renowned for knowledge and understanding.
There was Ammar ibn Yasir رضي الله عنه, one of the earliest believers and one of the most steadfast supporters of Ali رضي الله عنه during the First Fitnah.
There was Qays ibn Saʿd رضي الله عنه, an experienced political and military leader.
And there was Malik al-Ashtar رضي الله عنه, one of Ali's رضي الله عنه most trusted commanders.
These men did not all possess identical personalities.
They did not all agree on every political question.
But they shared something important.
They believed that Ali رضي الله عنه remained the legitimate leader of the community and stood with him through some of the darkest years of the First Fitnah.
The love of Ali رضي الله عنه among his supporters was not merely political.
For many, he was the man who had grown up beside the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
The man who had fought when Islam was weak.
The man whose family was inseparably connected with the Prophet ﷺ.
The man whose courage had become part of Muslim memory.
And now they saw him carrying the weight of a Caliphate that seemed to grow heavier every year.
But Ali رضي الله عنه also understood the danger of allowing loyalty to become fanaticism.
And eventually, some people would cross a boundary that he himself would never permit.
When Love Became Extremism
Among the people surrounding Ali رضي الله عنه were also individuals whose admiration for him moved far beyond what Islam permitted.
A small extremist tendency emerged in the early Islamic period that attributed divine qualities to Ali رضي الله عنه.
Later Muslim heresiographical literature associated some of these beliefs with figures such as ʿAbdullah ibn Sabaʾ, although the historical details concerning Ibn Sabaʾ are disputed and the surviving reports about the earliest development of these ideas must be treated cautiously.
The theological principle, however, is clear.
Ali رضي الله عنه was not God.
He was not divine.
He was not an incarnation of God.
He was not a prophet after Muhammad ﷺ.
He was a servant of Allah.
A Companion of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
A member of the Prophet's ﷺ household.
And a Caliph of the Muslims.
Ali رضي الله عنه himself strongly rejected any attempt to raise him beyond the limits Allah had given him.
The man who had spent his entire life calling humanity toward the worship of Allah alone could never accept worship being directed toward himself.
This is an important part of Ali's رضي الله عنه legacy.
He could accept love.
He could accept loyalty.
He could accept respect.
But he would not accept deification.
The distance between love and worship had to remain absolute.
And when people crossed that boundary, Ali رضي الله عنه did not celebrate their devotion.
He condemned their excess.
For him, true love of a righteous servant of Allah could never mean replacing Allah with that servant.
The lesson remains timeless:
A human being may become extraordinarily beloved without ever becoming divine.
The Governors of Ali's رضي الله عنه Caliphate
Ali's رضي الله عنه administration stretched across territories that were already becoming politically fragmented.
He therefore relied upon governors and trusted officials to administer the provinces that still recognized his authority.
In Basrah, after the Battle of the Camel, Ali رضي الله عنه appointed Abdullah ibn Abbas رضي الله عنهما, one of the most capable men of his generation.
In Egypt, he initially appointed Qays ibn Saʿd رضي الله عنه, an experienced Companion of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ and a skilled political leader.
Qays approached the Egyptian situation with caution.
Rather than immediately attempting to crush every group that remained hostile to Ali رضي الله عنه, he sought accommodation where possible. His policy helped preserve stability and maintain the collection of taxes while avoiding unnecessary bloodshed.
But Egypt was too strategically important to remain outside the wider struggle.
It stood close to Syria.
It possessed wealth.
It possessed military importance.
And whoever controlled Egypt possessed enormous political leverage.
The province would therefore become one of the final great tests of Ali's رضي الله عنه Caliphate.
The Tragedy of Egypt
Qays ibn Saʿd رضي الله عنه was eventually replaced by Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr رضي الله عنه, the son of Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه and a man who had been closely connected with Ali رضي الله عنه.
Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr رضي الله عنه was deeply loyal to Ali رضي الله عنه.
But Egypt was becoming increasingly difficult to hold.
Muʿawiyah رضي الله عنه understood the strategic importance of the province.
He sent ʿAmr ibn al-ʿĀṣ رضي الله عنه, an experienced commander who had previously governed Egypt, to recover the province for the Syrian camp.
The struggle for Egypt intensified.
Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr رضي الله عنه found himself facing forces that were increasingly difficult to contain.
Ali رضي الله عنه understood the seriousness of the situation.
He needed one of his most capable commanders.
His choice fell upon Malik al-Ashtar رضي الله عنه.
Malik had stood beside Ali رضي الله عنه at Jamal and Siffin.
He was one of his most trusted military commanders.
Ali رضي الله عنه appointed him to govern Egypt.
But Malik never reached Egypt.
While travelling toward the province, he died at al-Qulzum in 38 AH.
The historical tradition contains reports that he was poisoned, and later sources connected his death with the wider struggle between Ali رضي الله عنه and Muʿawiyah رضي الله عنه. Because the details of the circumstances are transmitted differently, it is wiser not to state more than the evidence securely allows.
Whatever the precise circumstances of his death, the consequence was devastating for Ali رضي الله عنه.
One of his strongest commanders was gone.
And Egypt was becoming increasingly vulnerable.
Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr رضي الله عنه was left to face the crisis.
The final struggle came soon afterward.
ʿAmr ibn al-ʿĀṣ رضي الله عنه led the Syrian-backed forces into Egypt.
Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr رضي الله عنه was defeated and killed.
And by 38 AH, Egypt had effectively passed into Muʿawiyah's رضي الله عنه camp, with ʿAmr ibn al-ʿĀṣ رضي الله عنه again becoming its dominant governor.
For Ali رضي الله عنه, the loss was profound.
Egypt was gone.
Malik was gone.
Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr was gone.
And the political map of the Caliphate was shrinking.
The Caliph still possessed Iraq and parts of the eastern territories.
But Syria was beyond his effective control.
Egypt had been lost.
And his ability to mobilize a new army was weakening.
The storm was closing in.
A Caliph Growing Weary
Ali رضي الله عنه was no longer the young warrior who had entered the battlefield at Badr.
Years of conflict had changed him.
He had witnessed the deaths of men he loved.
He had watched the Ummah divide.
He had negotiated with people who had once stood beside him.
He had fought at Jamal.
He had fought at Siffin.
He had fought at Nahrawān.
And each victory had left him with another wound.
The greatest tragedy was perhaps not that he had lost battles.
It was that he had been forced to fight at all.
The man who had once raised his sword against the enemies of Islam now found himself surrounded by Muslims whose blood had been shed in conflicts he desperately wished had never occurred.
He would repeatedly call his people toward unity.
He would urge them to prepare.
He would remind them of their obligations.
But enthusiasm was disappearing.
Some were exhausted.
Some were divided.
Some wanted peace.
Some wanted revenge.
Some wanted wealth.
Some wanted political influence.
And some simply no longer wanted to fight.
The Caliph could command an army.
But he could not command the human heart.
And this was perhaps the deepest political lesson of Ali's رضي الله عنه final years.
Authority can compel obedience for a moment. It cannot manufacture conviction.
The Last Great Test
By 40 AH, Ali's رضي الله عنه political position had become increasingly fragile.
His territories were reduced.
His supporters were divided.
The memory of Nahrawān remained bitter.
His attempts to mobilize another army against Syria repeatedly encountered hesitation.
Yet Ali رضي الله عنه did not surrender his principles.
He did not transform the Caliphate into a personal monarchy.
He did not declare himself divine.
He did not abandon justice simply because justice had become politically expensive.
He continued to see the office as an Amanah.
And then came the final morning.
The Assassin in the Darkness
The man who would ultimately strike Ali رضي الله عنه was not a Roman soldier.
Not a Persian warrior.
Not a Syrian commander.
Not an enemy from beyond the borders of Islam.
He came from the turmoil of the First Fitnah itself.
His name was ʿAbd al-Rahman ibn Muljam.
He was associated with the Kharijite movement that had emerged after Siffin and Nahrawān.
The Kharijites had come to believe that Ali رضي الله عنه had committed a grave error by accepting arbitration at Siffin.
After Nahrawān, their hostility toward him became even more intense.
A plan was formed to assassinate several leading figures associated with the political conflict.
Ali رضي الله عنه was among the intended targets.
And so the final chapter of the life of the Lion of the Desert began not upon a battlefield...
but inside a mosque.
The Dawn of 19 Ramadan
It was the month of Ramadan.
The city of Kufa was quiet in the darkness before dawn.
Ali رضي الله عنه rose for prayer.
He had lived through almost the entire history of Islam's first generation.
He had known the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
He had watched Abu Bakr رضي الله عنه lead the community.
He had lived through Umar رضي الله عنه's extraordinary reign.
He had witnessed Uthman's رضي الله عنه assassination.
He had accepted the Caliphate during the greatest political crisis the Ummah had yet known.
And now he walked toward the mosque.
The man waiting for him carried a poisoned sword.
When Ali رضي الله عنه entered for the dawn prayer, Ibn Muljam struck him.
The blow was devastating.
Ali رضي الله عنه was severely wounded.
The words attributed to him at that moment have been preserved in different historical traditions, but the meaning associated with his response is consistent with the image of the man he had always tried to be:
He had been struck while standing before Allah.
The warrior who had survived Badr.
The fighter of Uhud.
The victor of Khandaq.
The bearer of the banner at Khaybar.
The Caliph who had survived Jamal, Siffin, and Nahrawān.
Now lay wounded by the sword of a man who claimed to act in the name of religion.
The irony of history could hardly have been more painful.
The Final Hours
Ali رضي الله عنه did not die immediately.
For a short period, he remained alive.
Those around him hoped that perhaps he might recover.
But the wound was fatal.
During these final hours, the concerns associated with his life remained visible.
Justice.
Prayer.
The rights of the people.
The fear of Allah.
The responsibility of leadership.
He had carried the Caliphate as an Amanah.
And even when that Amanah was being taken from him, he did not turn his final moments into a call for indiscriminate revenge.
He had spent his life teaching that the strength of a believer was not measured merely by the sword he carried.
It was measured by his ability to restrain that sword.
The Fall of the Lion
On 19 Ramadan 40 AH, Ali ibn Abi Talib رضي الله عنه was struck.
Two days later, according to the commonly transmitted chronology, he died from his wounds.
He was approximately sixty-three years old.
The Lion of the Desert had fallen.
But what had really fallen?
Not courage.
Not faith.
Not knowledge.
Not the memory of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
What had fallen was a man.
A servant of Allah.
A Companion of the Prophet ﷺ.
A husband of Fatimah رضي الله عنها.
A father of Hasan and Husayn رضي الله عنهما.
A warrior.
A judge.
A scholar.
A Caliph.
A man who had been forced to carry a burden that perhaps no human being could have carried without being wounded by it.
His life had begun in the house of Abu Talib.
It had been shaped in the house of Muhammad ﷺ.
It had been tested on the battlefields of Arabia.
It had been strengthened through years of worship, knowledge, sacrifice, family, friendship, and service.
And eventually, it had been consumed by the greatest political crisis of the first Muslim generation.
Ali رضي الله عنه had not lived in an age of easy answers.
He had lived in an age in which even the greatest men could be confronted with impossible choices.
And perhaps that is why his story remains so powerful.
Because his greatness was not that he lived without trials.
His greatness was that the trials never succeeded in making him abandon Allah.
What Remained After Ali رضي الله عنه?
When Ali رضي الله عنه died, the political question did not disappear.
The Caliphate did not suddenly return to the unity of the age of Abu Bakr and Umar رضي الله عنهما.
The wounds of the First Fitnah remained.
But another figure now stood before the Ummah.
Hasan ibn Ali رضي الله عنه.
The grandson of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
The son of Ali رضي الله عنه.
The son of Fatimah رضي الله عنها.
A man who had grown up in the household of revelation.
And he would now inherit the authority of his father.
But Hasan رضي الله عنه would face a question different from the one his father had faced.
His father had fought to preserve the unity of the Caliphate.
Hasan رضي الله عنه would have to decide whether preserving that unity required another war...
or whether peace demanded sacrifice.
The story of Ali رضي الله عنه had ended.
But the consequences of his life had not.
The Ummah was about to enter another decisive chapter.
The Legacy of Ali رضي الله عنه
Ali ibn Abi Talib رضي الله عنه should not be remembered only because he fought bravely.
History has many warriors.
He should not be remembered only because he was the cousin and son-in-law of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
History has many people of noble lineage.
He should not be remembered only because he became the fourth Caliph.
History remembers rulers.
Ali رضي الله عنه deserves remembrance because these qualities existed together within one life.
Courage without arrogance.
Knowledge without self-worship.
Power without luxury.
Leadership without treating authority as personal property.
Love without deification.
Justice without abandoning mercy.
And above all:
A life lived beneath the awareness that every authority eventually returns to Allah.
The young boy who had once entered the household of Muhammad ﷺ could never have imagined the storms that awaited him.
The warrior of Badr could never have imagined that one day Muslims themselves would stand before him in battle.
The husband of Fatimah رضي الله عنها could never have imagined that he would one day bury her and continue carrying the burden of leadership.
The father of Hasan and Husayn رضي الله عنهما could never have imagined the tragedies that history would later place upon his family.
And the Caliph who inherited a wounded Ummah could never fully heal every wound he inherited.
But perhaps leadership is not always about healing every wound.
Sometimes it is about refusing to become another source of the wound.
Ali رضي الله عنه lived through an age in which political disagreements became wars, wars became memories, and memories became arguments for generations.
Yet his final destination was not the battlefield.
It was the grave.
Like every king.
Like every warrior.
Like every scholar.
Like every ruler.
Like every ordinary human being.
And there, before Allah, worldly titles disappear.
Caliph.
Commander.
Warrior.
Governor.
Supporter.
Opponent.
All return to the same Lord.
That is perhaps the final lesson of the life of Ali ibn Abi Talib رضي الله عنه.
The Lion of the Desert could conquer fear.
He could face champions.
He could stand before armies.
But even the strongest man eventually returns to the One who gave him strength.
Ali رضي الله عنه lived as a servant of Allah.
He governed as an Amanah.
He fought when he believed fighting was necessary.
He restrained himself when restraint was required.
He endured betrayal, division, grief, and loss.
And when his journey finally came to an end...
he returned to the Lord before whom every human journey ultimately ends.
May Allah be pleased with Ali ibn Abi Talib رضي الله عنه.
May Allah be pleased with his wife Fatimah رضي الله عنها.
May Allah be pleased with his sons Hasan and Husayn رضي الله عنهما.
May Allah be pleased with all the Companions of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
And may Allah teach us to remember their difficult history not with hatred...
but with humility.
Not with sectarian arrogance...
but with wisdom.
Not by turning one Companion into a villain and another into an object of blind worship...
but by remembering that Allah alone knows the hearts, the intentions, and the final judgement of His servants.
The chapter of Ali رضي الله عنه had closed.
But the story of the Ummah continued.
And from the grief of his death...
a new chapter was about to rise.
Hasan ibn Ali رضي الله عنه.
The Grandson of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.
The Caliph who would choose peace.
End of Chapter 5 — Ali رضي الله عنه: The Lion of the Desert
The First Fitnah had begun with the murder of Uthman رضي الله عنه.
It had passed through Jamal.
It had burned at Siffin.
It had fractured at arbitration.
It had bled at Nahrawān.
And it had finally claimed the life of Ali ibn Abi Talib رضي الله عنه.
But perhaps the greatest tragedy was not that the Lion of the Desert had fallen.
It was that the Ummah he had spent his life serving had been wounded alongside him.
And now...
the grandson of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ would have to decide what to do with those wounds.
End of Chapter 5: Part 6
Chapter 6: Part 6 - Hasan رَضِيَ ٱللَّٰهُ عَنْهُمْ – The Peaceful Soul!