Some of these were written, or at least signed, by his
cousin Walid, who was also Othman’s half brother—the
same man who had fueled resentment of the third Caliph
with his drunken antics in the pulpit as governor of
Kufa. “Muawiya, you have wasted time like a stallion
camel in lust, conɹned and bellowing in Damascus but
unable to move,” Walid wrote. “By God, if another day
passes without revenge for Othman, I would that your
mother had been barren. Do not let the snakes come at
you. Do not be faint with withered forearms. Present Ali
with a war to turn his hair gray!”
Others urged Muawiya to “rise high in the stirrup”
and “grasp the forelocks of opportunity.” But the most
popular of all the verses making the rounds in Damascus
was the one that clearly laid out the opposing sides. “I
see Syria loathing the reign of Iraq,” it went, “and the
people of Iraq loathing Syria. Each one hates his partner.
They say Ali is our leader, but we say we are pleased
with the son of Hind.”
Such poems could not possibly have circulated
without Muawiya’s knowledge and approval. They were
an essential part of his campaign to rouse the will of the
people to war—a will that was eminently amenable to
skillful manipulation. In fact, the will of the public can
still be manipulated in much the same way in even the
most proudly democratic of countries, as was clear when
the Bush administration falsely presented the 2003
invasion of Iraq as a response to the Al Qaida attack of