the supremacy of the greater jihad—the lifelong struggle
within oneself to become the ideal Muslim—over the
lesser jihad, or armed struggle. If the Kufans counted it
shameful to turn away from war, he said, then “shame is
better than hellɹre.” He would seek not war with
Muawiya but an honorable peace, and a general
amnesty for all past bloodshed.
They were brave words, instantly taken for cowardice.
“He is weak and confused,” the Kufan warriors shouted
to one another. “He intends to surrender. We have to
stop him.” And the man who wanted nothing more than
to prevent further violence suddenly became the object of
it. His own men turned on him in a mutinous free-for-
all, manhandling him and pulling the robe oʃ his back.
A knife appeared—nobody was ever sure whose knife it
was—and cut into his thigh. It was not a deep wound,
but enough to draw a ɻow of blood, and that fact
probably saved Hasan’s life. As he fell to the ground, the
sight of the blood sobered the mutineers, and they
realized how dangerously close they had come to yet
another assassination.
If there had been any doubt in Hasan’s mind as to
what he should do, it was now resolved. Even if he
wanted, he could not lead an army capable of turning on
him in this way. Abdication was the only option, and
Muawiya’s terms seemed reasonable enough. He had
sworn that Hasan would succeed him as Caliph. Hasan
must have reasoned that if his father, Ali, had waited