was another Adam, the one whose coming Jesus had
prophesied. Indeed, they accepted Islam on the spot.
But Muhammad’s gesture with the cloak also spoke to
Ali and Fatima. There were ties of love and ties of blood,
he was saying, and between the two, blood must always
come ɹrst. There was no room for the childless Aisha
under that cloak.
It was only to be expected that Muhammad would turn
to Ali for advice on how to proceed in the Aʃair of the
Necklace, but from Aisha’s point of view, he could not
have consulted a worse person. Indeed—at least by her
account, which is the only one we have—Ali’s advice
could hardly have been more blunt. Surprisingly blunt,
in fact, since Ali was known for his eloquence. The
collection of his speeches and sermons known as Nahj al-
Balagha, or the Path of Eloquence, would be taught for
centuries as the exemplar of perfection in language and
spirit. Famed for his depth and his insight, he would
represent the ideal combination of warrior and scholar,
courage and chivalry. But at least according to Aisha,
there was no hint of chivalry, let alone eloquence, in the
advice he now gave.
Perhaps he made a far more sophisticated argument,
and Aisha gave only the gist of it. Perhaps he had lost
patience with the melodramatic aspect of the whole
business, or perhaps he could simply take no more of