not Ali but his opponent as Caliph. “I hereby conɹrm
Muawiya as the true Caliph,” Amr concluded, “the heir
of Othman and the avenger of his blood.”
Curses hurtled through the air, ɹstɹghts broke out,
and the conclave broke up in more turmoil than when it
had begun. Abu Musa ɻed for Mecca, where he lived out
his days in privacy and prayer, utterly disillusioned with
public life, while Amr returned to Damascus to lead the
acclamation of Muawiya as Caliph.
The year was 658, and there were now two Caliphs. A
Caliph and an anti-Caliph, that is, and no agreement on
which was which. The odds against Ali were stacked
higher than ever, and due to his principled insistence on
equalizing the revenues from Islam, they were to become
higher still.
Inɻuential estate owners and tribal leaders were
accustomed to what they considered the perks of their
position. Without these perks, they were open to what
Muawiya called “the use of honey”—sweetening the pot.
So when Ali refused to make sweetheart deals with the
nobility, he paid dearly. Even one of his own half
brothers, infuriated by the lack of a special pension, was
bribed over to Muawiya’s side.
But there were also other uses for honey. Muawiya
had his sights set on Egypt, where Ali’s stepson,
Muhammad Abu Bakr—Aisha’s half brother—had
proved a weak governor. Ali himself ruefully