A reflection on social justice (2)

By Mansoor Limba
Mindanews

Second and last of two parts

3. Justice during his caliphate

SINCE the people unanimously paid allegiance to him in assuming the office of the caliphate, the Commander of the Faithful did not delay a single moment in removing the officials whom he viewed as impious and unjust, to the chagrin of well-wishers who recommended him to retain them temporarily while consolidating his position.

When some pioneering Muslims took issue with him as to why their share from the public treasury is equal to that of the others and not more, the Caliph said that equality was part of the Sunnah of the Messenger of God and that they were not different from the others in this regard (Nahj al-Balaghah, Sermon 205).

During his caliphate, his cousin Ibn al-‘Abbas once came to him while ‘Ali was mending his old shoes with his own hands. Turning to Ibn al-‘Abbas, the caliph asked, “How much do you think is this shoe worth?” “Nothing,” replied his cousin. ‘Ali said, “But the same shoe is of more worth to me than authority over you if it were not to me a means for establishing justice, recovering the rights of the deprived, and wiping out evil practices” (Ibid., Sermon 33).

In the famous epistle to his appointed governor of Egypt, Malik al-Ashtar, which shows an amazing sensitivity to justice and compassion toward the people, he writes: “Never, never act with them like a predatory beast which seeks to be satiated by devouring them, for the people fall into two categories: they are either your brethren in faith or your brethren in creation… Do not ever say, ‘I have been given authority’ or ‘My command should be obeyed’ because it corrupts the heart, consumes one’s faith, and invites calamities’” (Ibid., Letter 53).

When the Caliph saw his soldiers using foul language against those of Mu‘awiyah ibn Abi Sufyan in the Battle of Siffin, he dissuaded them from such unethical act—even though it was against an enemy and at the time of war—telling them: “Instead of abusing him you should say, ‘O God! Save our blood and their blood, bring about reconciliation between us, and lead them, who have strayed, to the right path’” (Ibid., Sermon 206).

During the same battle, ‘Ali regained control of the water after Mu‘awiyah shut it off to him and his army. But he did not retaliate in kind; he did not hinder Mu‘awiyah’s troops from using the water.

When Caliph ‘Ali heard the news of an army of Mu‘awiyah’s incursion into a city under his jurisdiction and robbed a Jewish woman of her anklet, he exclaimed, “Even if one died of grief because of this incident, this would not be an overreaction” (Ibid., Sermon 27).

How about if an innocent subject under the jurisdiction of a ruler was brutally murdered in public, or worse, beheaded, as in countless cases nowadays? Can we detect any vestige of authentic grief from our leaders? One may ask.

Under the pressure of the Kharijites, the caliph submitted to arbitration, but when they found out the deception of the enemy, they demanded that the caliph annul the pact. But he did not agree to violate the pact, even though doing so was to his advantage.

On the deathbed of his martyrdom, he asked his relatives not to let his killing pave the way for a widespread bloodbath, saying: “O sons of ‘Abd al-Muttalib, certainly I do not wish to see you plunging harshly into the blood of Muslims, shouting, ‘The Commander of the Faithful has been killed’” (Ibid., Letter 47).

Dr. Wildred Madelung, Professor of Arabic at Oxford University, tries to capture some of these aspects of ‘Ali’s personality when he writes: “In face of the fake Umayyad claim to legitimate sovereignty in Islam as God’s Vicegerents on earth, and in view of Umayyad treachery, arbitrary and divisive government, and vindictive retribution, they came to appreciate his honesty, his unbending devotion to the reign of Islam, his deep personal loyalties, his equal treatment of all his supporters, and his generosity in forgiving his defeated enemies” (The succession to Muhammad: a study of the early caliphate (1997), pp. 309-310).

Finally, at the age of 63, ‘Ali was murdered, after barely five years of rule, on Ramadan 21, 40 AH (January 29, 661 CE) by Ibn Muljim – an epitome of religious fanaticism – who mortally wounded him with a poisoned sword in the mosque of Kufah (in Iraq) during the morning prayer on 19th Ramadan.

Thus, that fateful day of fasting was the day when “the voice of human justice,” as aptly described by George Jordac, was silenced forever.

In the words of Robert D. Osborn, “With him perished the truest hearted and best Moslem of whom Mohammadan [sic] history had preserved the remembrance” (Islam under the Arabs, 1876, p. 120).

Conclusion

In conclusion, let me say that much still can be said but words cannot surely give justice to the justice of ‘Ali.

Now, fourteen centuries after the conviction to death of that personage, for the de facto local Muslim leaders to study his life and conduct and thereafter emulate him as much as they can is certainly a positive step toward good governance and wholesome leadership.

Ladies and gentlemen, this was the account of a convicted criminal in history – a criminal who was convicted for committing the heinous crime of justice, and his name is ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib.

(Excerpts from the reflection paper “He Whose Crime was Justice: An Islamic Anthropological Reflection.” Mansoor L. Limba, PhD in International Relations, is a writer, educator, blogger, chess trainer, and translator from Persian into English and Filipino. He can be reached at mlimba@diplomats.com, or http://www.mlimba.com and http://www.muslimandmoney.com. -Mindanews)