Who is the Mahdi?
Who, what, when, where -- and why
A lot of us wonder when he’ll come. Plenty of us wonder who he’ll be. But why must there be a Mahdi at all?
Many years back, presenting on Islam very far from home, I referenced the high regard we Muslims have for ‘Isa ibn Maryam, Jesus the son of Mary: not only a Prophet, but also the miraculous word and spirit of God, born by God’s decree, without a father, the very Messiah who will return at the end of time to fill an unjust world with justice.
May the peace and blessings of God be on ‘Isa and his mother.
I’m not sure if one of the attendees asked this, or I inferred this from a question asked of me, but I found myself explaining why I believed the Prophet Jesus (peace be upon him) was coming back to Earth at all. Two caveats: First, this was my educated conjecture. Second, in faith, many things will have multiple possible explanations. In this instance, as I often do, I foregrounded my response with a lighthearted comment.
When people smile, even laugh, they’re at ease and when they’re at ease, their minds open to unexpected possibilities. In this instance, I said something along the lines of, ‘well, given that the three Abrahamic religions strongly disagree on who Jesus is, perhaps he’s returning to settle the matter.’ Many chuckled and took it as just that — but some, I could tell, understood my deeper meaning.
That his existence mattered. That while all great events, truths and teachings have multiple effects and implications, this one was worth sitting with: God is invested in whether or not we properly understand Him. But God is invested in us as individuals first and foremost. When the blessed Prophet Ibrahim (Abraham) was cast into the fire for his monotheism, God intervened to adjust the course of the entire human future.
Allah not only saved Ibrahim (AS) but changed the direction of all history, down to today. Out of His love for Ibrahim (AS), His regard for him — Ibrahim (AS) is His friend, khalīl Allah — Allah remade the world. When Hajar (R) beseeched God for help, panicked, running between the hills of Safa and Marwa, His mercy came down to her. There would be no Mecca without her.
And without Mecca? We receive descriptions from the blessed Prophet Muhammad (SA) of the Day of Judgment.
We know that even so great and esteemed a man as Prophet ‘Isa (Jesus, peace be upon him) will be anxious over his fate, worried that he’ll be taken to task for what people ascribed to him. Could it be the case that one of the reasons Allah (SWT) sends ‘Isa back is to clear his name, out of love for him, out of regard for the depth of his faith, for the status of his mother, but also, out of His love for His ummah?
What We Talk About When We Talk About the End Times
It’s not just Muslims who are wondering whether we’re at the end of all things. You can’t scroll through ten reels without happening upon some intimation that the apocalypse is upon us. Sometimes they’re presented in the form of a joke, but I don’t think people are actually laughing. I think, deep down, people are horrified, suspecting that the so-called adults in the room have no idea what they’re doing.
In times such as these, people often return to their deepest sources of meaning. In advance of our halaqa’s special classes on Iran — see my earlier post — I suspect I’ll get questions on the end times. Let’s be honest. It can’t have been easy growing up the last ten or fifteen years. It’s been overwhelming, exhausting, infuriating, depressing, from the brain rotting phones we’re all addicted to …
COVID
Civil unrest
Mass shootings
Escalating wars
Yemen Sudan and Libya
The genocide in Gaza
AI and the singularity
Looksmaxxing
The invasion of Ukraine
The Epstein scandal
Climate change…
I could go on and on. If you don’t even know where to begin, in other words, you’re not alone — and not alone in wondering if it is not the end. So how do we, as Muslims, address such moments? We could wonder if it’s almost all over, but that hardly leaves us with any meaningful direction on its own. In our last halaqa, before Ramadan, the subject of free will vs. predestination came in.
What if we’re looking at this all wrong, though? What if predetermined realities determine the contours of our free will? What if our free will, in turn, predetermines history? Prophet Ibrahim (AS) chose to believe in God. He chose to confront his people. The world we live in is indelibly affected by those choices. The two are not opposites, but operate simultaneously and interdependently.
The level of complexity required to even begin to understand this would be lost on humans, because we cannot think beyond dimensional categories. But if we can acknowledge that we can’t, we can understand what it means when Allah tells us what is to come, not so that we collapse into paralysis, but so that we make more informed choices, better choices, the right choices.
By knowing what’ll happen, in other words, we don’t become more predetermined. We become, paradoxically but actually, more free.
A Theory of the Mahdi
Islam has a tradition of eschatology, of texts and traditions that reveal what the latter days of humanity might actually be like. Sometimes we circulate these for less than the best of reasons—or just the standard reasons: there’s a common, compulsive human fascination with our own destinies. In actual ages of unrest, though, these might be ways to make sense of worlds that otherwise do not make sense.
Now, let me restate that caveat.
There are always multiple reasons for different practices, rituals and traditions.
So don’t read what I have to say here as conclusive or comprehensive. These are merely reflections in advance of an important conversation with students and parents who (like me honestly) are wrestling with some overwhelming realities. I will share with them three reasons our Creator has given us a description of the latter-days, three-reasons I’d like to share with my students (and with you all here.)
First, these are intentionally ambiguous. The barefoot men who compete in building tall towers? Well, sure, that could mean what we think it means, but then again, how tall is tall? One of the reasons I believe we’ve been provided such ambiguity is to create space for freedom of thought, reflection and action. Another is to force us to constantly second-guess ourselves. A people who do not reflect on their choices and decisions are a people who become self-satisfied, smug, supremacist and, inevitably, dangerous. But a people who also learn how to question themselves, and question the world around them, become more curious, creative and critical.
How often, in history, have people been doomed by their rigidity? And how often, in turn, have people in the hardest of circumstances been rescued by their ability to think beyond the categories imposed on them? That’s one of the reasons I teach the AP Halaqa: So these students know how to learn, how to think, and how to build, individually and collectively. This is the way forward. I don’t know if it’s the only way forward, but it’s hard to imagine how it can’t be part of the solution.
Second, as a mercy. So that, should we find ourselves in dark and difficult times, or any kind of dark and difficult times, we know or we are reminded that there is a direction to what is happening, that our Lord and Creator, our Master and Sustainer, is still keeping watch. Many ages in human history are painful and perilous. But that doesn’t take away from our reason for being here, that there is still a reason for being where we are, who we are, and when we are, that Allah is Merciful, Wise, All-Knowing and All-Powerful, so that, instead of just asking who the Mahdi will be, when will he come, and why will he come, we also ask these questions of ourselves. There is a reason Allah intended us to be where we are, when we are… even who we are.
That, in turn, speaks to our potential and our purpose. It is reassurance in hard times. But that is not only it.
Third, to return to free will and predestination. What, after all, if the Mahdi is the answer to the prayers of the oppressed? What if, so many are so oppressed, and begging His aid—should the aid not come? And who are we to say why it will come and what form it will take? But perhaps we might, in sitting with these questions, push ourselves out of our own self-imposed boundaries and boxes.
How often in history have people suffered great harm because they’ve been unable to learn from their mistakes? And how often, in turn, have people found their way out of crisis by abandoning preconceived notions, errant assumptions, or clearly irrelevant and even self-defeating modes of thinking? Faith and creativity aren’t incompatible. They stand shoulder to shoulder and foot to foot.
But so too should our ummah in times of crisis, not by expecting all of us to think the same, act the same, or agree on every question. We should, rather, hold each other in regard, respect each other’s dignity, and care for each other’s worth. In terms of our great Muslim divergence, the division between Sunni and Shi’a — this began to take shape almost immediately after the death of the Prophet SA.
What we already agreed on, like Qur’an, ritual practice, and core theology, remains shared. What happened after, though, we often and sometimes often bitterly disagreed. Yet it seems there can be no addressing our ummah’s pains and ailments except with some new model for thinking better of each other and learning how to ethically, responsibly and meaningfully work together?
Ways that reflect our agency, our individual dignity, and our collective distinctions.
But then there is the figure of the Mahdi, may Allah be pleased with him, a historical figure from the future, whose importance is shared across the greatest of Islam’s grave fractures; indeed, he may not only be the person whose importance across traditions is enough to re-connect those traditions but, with Jesus, peace be upon him, these two figures are mutually revered across so much of the Muslim tradition.
Had the Mahdi not been promised before the passing of the Prophet Muhammad (SA)—indeed, such a statement would itself not make sense—who else would bring us together? And what if the answer to the prayer, the call of the oppressed, or whatever reasons are for Allah and Allah alone to make, also took the form of healing His ummah, that just as He holds individuals in regard, so too His people?
Islam teaches that when we move towards Him, He moves towards us. If we move towards Him in spirit, because our material options are limited, then perhaps His moving towards us might take the form of spirit outside the bounds of ordinary history, though for that to happen, the ummah must be open, aware, and ready to accept what comes, able to discern what is happening.
The Mahdi isn’t just a confirmation that He knows, but a confirmation that He cares. The process is simultaneous and instantaneous, though for us perhaps centuries pass and what do we know?
This, at least: that He foresaw, riven as we would be, that there is a need for reconnection, for the ummah to converge with itself, to ask itself what the price of difference should be, and where else does that commence except where it all commenced, where Adam and Eve built, where Hajar and Ismail were alone but not alone, there and only there.
Which is to say He didn’t just know what would happen, of course, but He is invested in all that does.
In the end, I cannot know. We cannot know. If we knew too much, we would have no agency. If we knew too little, we might altogether despair. We need enough guidance to keep going in difficult times. But we need enough space so that we are free to make choices, to pursue our responsibilities, and to learn — including from our mistakes, for that is what it means to be a person and a Muslim.
Parting Shots
I will share reflections on our special session of the halaqa soon.
In the meantime, I’m again sharing Avenue M’s second live episode, “The Iran Episode,” which introduces some of these questions.
We’re recording a follow-up episode this coming week, which will stream live, and then be made available on YouTube, Apple and Spotify. We’re taking questions, during the episode, but also collecting questions beforehand.
If there’s something you’d like to see us talk about, let us know: you can drop questions in comments or message us directly.