influence and respect than when he was alive.
Muhammad seemed to recognize this the moment he
heard those first words of unwavering commitment from
his young cousin. “He put his arm around my neck,” Ali
remembered, “and said ‘This is my brother, my trustee,
and my successor among you, so listen to him and obey.’
And then everyone got up and began joking, saying to
my father, ‘He has ordered you to listen to your son and
obey him.’ ”
It seems clear enough when told this way: not only the
designation of Ali as Muhammad’s successor but also the
ɹrst sign of what Islam would mean—the revolutionary
upending of the traditional authority of father over son
and by implication of the whole of the old established
order. No one tribe would lord it over another any
longer. No one clan would claim dominance within a
tribe, and no one family within a clan. All would be
equal in the eyes of the one God, all honored members of
the new community of Islam.
Yet from Ali’s own account, it was not taken seriously.
In fact it is not even clear that it was intended seriously.
Ali was still a mere stripling, barely strong enough to
wield any sword, let alone Dhu’l Fikar, while
Muhammad was a man without his own means, an
orphan who had been raised in his uncle’s household
and whose only claim to wealth was through his wife,
Khadija. It made little sense for this seemingly ordinary