new Commander of the Faithful when he refused to take
the title of Caliph. That title had been honored by Abu
Bakr and Omar, Ali said, but it had since been corrupted
beyond repair by the Umayyads. Instead, he would be
known as the Imam—literally, he who stands in front.
On the one hand, it was a modest title, given to whoever
leads the daily prayers. On the other, this was Imam
with a deɹnite capital I, the spiritual and political leader
of all Muslims. And between Caliph and Imam, a world
of politics and theology would intervene.
Ali was destined to be the only man aside from
Muhammad himself whom both Sunnis and Shia would
acknowledge as a rightful leader of Islam. But while
Sunnis would eventually recognize and respect him as
the fourth Caliph—the fourth and last of the rashidun,
the “rightly guided ones”—the Shia would never
recognize the caliphate at all, not even the ɹrst three
Caliphs. To them, Ali was and always has been the ɹrst
rightful successor to Muhammad, designated by him as
the true spiritual leader who would pass on his
knowledge and insight to his sons, so that they in turn
could pass it on to their own sons. Ali, that is, was the
ɹrst of the twelve Imams who would join Muhammad
and his daughter Fatima as the true Ahl al-Bayt.
But on that June day, as all Medina lined up to pledge
allegiance to Ali, nobody yet thought in terms of Sunni
versus Shia. As they pressed their forearms against his
and swore to God that his friend was their friend, his