is out of balance,” he said, “and look how it turns
unevenly.”
But the strongest warning—the one that would echo
in men’s minds and make them wish they had listened
harder—came from Abu Musa, an elderly companion of
the Prophet’s and a former governor of Kufa under
Omar. “Fitna rips the community apart like an ulcer,” he
said. “The winds fan it, from the north and the south,
the east and the west. And it will be endless. It is blind
and deaf, trampling its halter. It has come at you from a
place where you were safe, and leaves the wise man as
bewildered as the most inexperienced. He who sleeps
through it is better oʃ than he who is awake in it; he
who is awake in it is better oʃ than he who stands in it;
he who stands in it is better off than he who rides into it.
So be wise and sheathe your swords! Remove your
spearheads and unstring your bows!”
There was one last hope, and that depended on the
three men in command. As twenty thousand men
watched with bated breath, Ali rode out between the two
armies on his dark bay battle horse, and Talha and
Zubayr rode out to meet him. They came to a halt, as
one warrior put it, “so close that the necks of their
horses crossed over each other.” Still on horseback, they
talked, and then there was a mass murmur of approval
from each side as Ali gave the sign to bring up a tent so