It had been Muhammad’s own sword, given by him to
Ali—bequeathed, you might say. And after he had
fought valiantly in battle with this sword, despite
multiple wounds, Ali earned the best known of the many
titles Muhammad would confer on him: Assad Allah,
Lion of God. That is why he is often shown with a
magniɹcently maned lion crouched at his feet, staring
out at the viewer with the calm gaze of implacable
strength.
The name Lion of God was intended to convey
spiritual as well as physical strength, and that is the
sense you get from these ubiquitous posters. With his
high cheekbones, kohl-rimmed eyes, and green keffiya
artfully draped around his head and falling onto his
shoulders—the green of Islam from the banner of
Muhammad’s clan, the color so evocative of ease and
bounty to a mountain desert people—Ali is shown as the
perfect Islamic man.
So what if at thirteen he was a shortsighted, spindly-
legged adolescent? As Shia Muslims point out, these are
not direct portraits but representations. They express the
feel of Ali, who he is for them—the man mentored and
groomed by Muhammad himself, inducted by the
Prophet into the inner, gnostic meaning of Islam so that
his understanding of the faith would far surpass that of
all others. What does it matter if in life he was not the
most handsome man in the world? In spirit is where he
lives, stronger in body and in many ways stronger still in