Free Inside the Kingdom by Robert Lacey Page A

world—meaning that they took their directions from the sunna, the words, actions, and example of the Prophet. To them the Shia were a heretical and miserably misguided sect whose loyalties lay with “the Persians”—the Shia in Iran. Unlettered Sunnis (as well as a good few who were educated) spread stories of how the Shia had forked tails hidden beneath their thobes and enjoyed unnatural sexual practices, notably at this time of year, when they would gather in their husayniyas (meeting rooms) to switch off the lights, strip off their clothes, and engage in writhing mounds of group sex. The resulting babies, many Sunnis believed, were then venerated by the Shia community and grew up to become their mullahs.
    Wahhabi sheikhs regularly denounced the Shia as deviants in another, more theological fashion. They described the Shia as rafada, or “rejectionists” of the correct Islamic succession, since they had complicated God’s simple truth, introducing the first and most harmful innovation of all.

WHY THE SHIA ARE DIFFERENT
    One of the very first people to become a Muslim was the Prophet’s bright young cousin Ali, who lived in the Prophet’s household and heard God’s teachings from an early age. Mohammed called him “brother.” When the clans of Mecca prepared their devilish plot to kill Mohammed, sending one assassin from each clan with a dagger, it was Ali who bravely rolled up in the Prophet’s blanket as a decoy, risking his own life to save Mohammed’s. When, eventually, the Muslims returned to Mecca in triumph, it was Ali who helped Mohammed open the door to the Kaaba to bring out the idols and smash them to smithereens.
    Since the Prophet could neither read nor write, Ali wrote his letters for him. Mohammed gave Ali his favorite daughter, Fatima, in marriage, and at least one hadith suggests that the Prophet may have viewed his popular son-in-law as his successor. “Whoever recognizes me as his master,” Mohammed was heard to declare as he rested on his way back from his final pilgrimage, “will recognize Ali as his master.” When the Prophet died shortly afterward, in A.H. 10 (A.D. 632), Ali was entrusted with the job of washing his body and preparing it for burial.
    But even as he was carrying out this sacred family duty, Ali was being marginalized by a hurriedly summoned conclave of Companions, who decided that Abu Bakr should become the first successor, or caliph, of the Prophet. Venerable and pious, Abu Bakr had been greatly loved by Mohammed, and he came from outside the Prophet’s family. Many of the Companions felt strongly that leadership of the faith should not become the property of one clan.
    So young Ali lost out—he was still only in his early thirties—and he accepted the decision. One of this remarkable man’s remarkable qualities was acceptance. If anyone embodied submission, which is the literal meaning of the word Islam, it was Ali. He served Abu Bakr with loyalty, as he served the next two caliphs, Omar and Othman, even though his supporters maintained that he had been repeatedly excluded from the succession by sharp practice. For the Shiat Ali, the party or followers of Ali, it became a defining idea that the tradition of the Prophet could only be passed down adequately through the bloodline of Mohammed.
    When Ali was eventually chosen as the fourth caliph, early in A.H. 36 (A.D. 656), he certainly manifested some of the Prophet’s charisma. He proved an inspiring leader of the umma, the Islamic community of believers, while also exhibiting bravery on the battlefield as he wielded his legendary fork-tongued sword, Zulfiqar.
    “There is no hero but Ali,” became a Shia cry, “and no sword but his Zulfiqar!”
    But this hero worship proved fatal. The multiple strands of the early Muslim world had already produced the earliest movement of Islamic dissent, the khawarij, literally “those who come out and depart.” It was less than thirty years since the Prophet had died, but