His character.
Thus, at the age of eighty-two, died Othmân, after a reign of twelve years. The misfortunes amongst which he sank bring out so sharply the failings of his character that further delineation is hardly needed. Narrow, weak, and vacillating, he had yet a kindly nature which might have made him, in less troublous times, a favourite of the people. Such, indeed, for a season he was at the beginning of his Caliphate. But afterwards he fell on evil days. The struggle between the Coreish and the rest of the Arabs was hurrying on the nation to an internecine war. The only possible safety was for the class still dominant to have opposed a strong and united front to their adversaries. By his vacillation, selfishness, and nepotism, Othmân broke up into embittered factions the aristocracy of Mecca, and threw this last chance away.
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE ELECTION OF ALY.
End of A.H. XXXV. June, A.D. 656.
Revulsion of feeling.
On the Caliph’s death, his kinsfolk, and such as had taken an active part in his defence, retired from the scene. The city was horror-struck. They had hardly anticipated, and could now with difficulty realise, the tragical end. Many who had favoured, and some who had even joined, the rebels, started back, now that the deed was done. The nearer relatives of the murdered Caliph fled to Mecca and elsewhere, with vows of vengeance. A citizen of Medîna, wrapping carefully up the severed fingers of Nâila in the blood-stained shirt of Othmân—meet symbols of revenge—carried them off to Damascus and laid them at Muâvia’s feet.
Aly elected Caliph, 24 Dzul Hijj, A.H. XXXV. 23 June, A.D. 656.
For several days anarchy reigned at the capital of Islam. There was neither Caliph nor any settled government. The regicides had the entire mastery of the city. Amongst them the Egyptians were foremost in those first days of terror; and public prayers (mark of supreme authority) were conducted in the Great Mosque by their leader. Of the citizens, few ventured forth. At last, on the fifth day, the rebels insisted that, before they quitted Medîna, the citizens should exercise their right, elect a Caliph, and restore the empire to its normal state. Shrinking, no doubt, from the seething elements which Othmân’s successor would have at once to face, Aly at first held back, and offered to swear allegiance to either Talha or Zobeir. But in the end, pressed by the threats of the regicides and the entreaties of his friends, he yielded, and so, six days after the fatal tragedy, he publicly bound himself to rule ‘according to the Book of the Lord,’ and was saluted Caliph. Zobeir and Talha were themselves the first to take the oath. They asserted afterwards that they swore unwillingly, driven to do so through fear of the conspirators. The traditions here are so divergent that it is hardly possible to say how far this was true, or a mere afterthought.[493] Talha’s arm had been disabled by the wound he received when defending Mahomet on the battle-field; unhappy auguries were now drawn from his withered hand being the first to strike the hand of Aly in taking the oath of fealty. The mass of the people followed. There were exceptions; for Aly was lenient, and, from a praise-worthy delicacy, would not press the immediate adherents of the late Caliph to swear allegiance.[494] The insurgents, having themselves done homage to Aly, took their leave and departed to tell the tale at Kûfa, Bussorah, and Fostât.
He declines to punish the regicides.
No bed of roses was strewn for Aly. Both at home and abroad rough and anxious work was before him. To the standing contention between the Arabs and the Coreish was now added the cry, which was soon to rend Islam, of vengeance on the regicides. Further, the red-handed treason enacted at Medîna had loosened the bonds of society. Constituted authority was set at naught. Bands of Bedouins, scenting from afar the approach of anarchy and the chance of plunder, hung about the city. They were bidden to depart; but encouraged by the servile population, which, broken loose during the insurrection, still kept aloof from their masters, they refused.[495] Aly was pressed on many sides, by those who held him bound by his accession-oath, to vindicate the majesty of the Divine law, and to punish the wicked men who had imbrued their hands in the blood of Othmân. Even Talha and Zobeir, awakening too late to the portentous nature of the crime enacted before their eyes and hardly against their will, urged this. ‘My brothers,’ replied Aly, ‘I am not indifferent to what ye say. But I am helpless. These wild Bedouins and rampant slaves will have their way. What is this but an outburst of Paganism long suppressed—a return, for the moment, of “the days of Ignorance,” a work of Satan? Just now they are beyond my power. Let us wait; and the Lord will guide us.’ This waiting, hesitating mood was the bane of Aly’s life. He loved ease; and though sometimes obstinate and self-willed, his ordinary principle was that things left to themselves would mend.
The Coreish alarmed.