Surah 2, known as Al-Baqarah (“The Cow”), is the longest surah of the Qur’an.
It constitutes a foundational text for the religious, legal, and communal organization of believers.
Revealed predominantly in Medina, it develops major themes such as faith, Law, covenant, prayer, fasting, and the relationship with Jewish and Christian traditions.
The first verse of this second surah contains neither statement, nor narrative, nor command. It simply consists of three letters of the Arabic alphabet pronounced separately: Alif, Lām, Mīm. These letters form neither a word nor a sentence, and translations of the Qur’an preserve them as they are, since they cannot really be rendered otherwise.
This opening is all the more surprising because it stands at the threshold of the longest surah of the Qur’an. Before any moral exhortation or doctrinal statement, the text begins with a sequence whose function is not explained. The reader thus enters the surah through a sign that precedes the discourse itself.
This singular threshold nevertheless prepares what follows. From the very next verse, the surah declares: “This is the Book in which there is no doubt” (S. 2:2). The proclamation of certainty therefore comes immediately after an opening that itself remains completely obscure.
These letters belong to a broader phenomenon within the Qur’an. Twenty-nine surahs begin with such sequences, which the Islamic tradition calls al-ḥurūf al-muqaṭṭaʿa, meaning the “separated letters” or “isolated letters.” Their presence is therefore not an isolated case but a recurring feature in the structure of the Qur’anic text.
These sequences take various forms. Some surahs begin with a single letter, such as Nūn (S. 68:1); others with two, such as Ṭā-Hā (S. 20:1); while some present three, four, or five, such as Kāf-Hā-Yāʾ-ʿAyn-Ṣād (S. 19:1). The diversity of combinations shows that this is not a single formula repeated mechanically.
Despite this variety, the text never provides a direct explanation. The letters appear at the beginning of a surah, and then the Qur’anic discourse continues without any further comment. The reader thus encounters a recurring element whose function remains implicit within the text itself.
Very early on, Muslim commentators tried to explain these letters. Some suggested that they were initials or abbreviations referring to divine names or known formulas. A tradition reported by al-Ṭabarī, for example, attributes to Ibn ʿAbbās the following interpretation: Alif-Lām-Mīm would mean anā Allāh aʿlam, that is: “I, Allah, know best.”1.
Other exegetes refused to assign any precise explanation. According to them, these letters do indeed have a meaning, but that meaning is known to Allah alone and remains inaccessible to human beings. This position has remained highly influential, precisely because it preserves the mystery without claiming to resolve it.
In religious practice, these letters are recited like the rest of the Qur’an. Their presence is therefore not only a matter of interpretation but also an element of prayer. A hadith reported by al-Tirmidhī states that every letter of the Book brings spiritual reward, even when its meaning is not understood2.
Modern researchers have also proposed various hypotheses. Some orientalists have suggested that these might be ancient scribal marks, transmission signs, or notations connected with the manuscript history of the text3. Others have proposed liturgical, symbolic, or even cryptographic interpretations.
Yet none of these hypotheses has ultimately prevailed. The proposals are numerous, sometimes ingenious, but none allows a definitive conclusion. After centuries of study, these letters therefore remain without a unanimously accepted explanation, neither within the Muslim tradition nor within critical research.
This observation is worth noting. Qur’anic exegesis is one of the most extensive and sophisticated interpretative traditions in religious history. Yet from the very first verse of the longest surah of the Qur’an, it encounters a threshold it has not been able to cross fully.
A first tension appears within the Qur’an itself. The Qur’anic text repeatedly claims to be clear, explicit, and given so that it may be understood. For example: “These are the verses of a clear Book” (S. 12:1), and then: “We have sent it down as an Arabic Qur’an so that you may understand” (S. 12:2).
Yet here the text opens with a sequence whose meaning remains unknown. For centuries, no one has been able to provide an explanation that is certain and universally recognized. A genuine question therefore arises: how can a Book that presents itself as clear begin with something that neither the text nor the tradition truly explains?
The difficulty goes beyond the case of Alif-Lām-Mīm alone. It touches the very nature of Qur’anic revelation. Should a divine word be immediately intelligible, or can it require assent before it has even revealed its meaning?
The Bible also acknowledges that God surpasses human understanding. The prophet Isaiah reports this divine word: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways”4. Likewise, Saint Paul exclaims: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!”5.
In the biblical tradition as well, the letter can play a structuring role in expressing revelation. Some psalms are built according to the order of the Hebrew alphabet: each verse or stanza begins with a different letter. Psalm 118 [119], for example, is organized into twenty-two sections corresponding to the twenty-two letters of the alphabet6.
At the same time, the Bible insists on the necessity of understanding the revealed word. When the Ethiopian eunuch reads Isaiah, Philip asks him: “Do you understand what you are reading?”7. Mystery therefore does not abolish intelligence; rather, it calls for a word that opens itself and allows interpretation.
These three letters ultimately raise a broader question than their own enigma. They compel us to reflect on the relationship between revelation, mystery, and understanding. Here, trust seems to precede explanation, and submission to the text precedes understanding of what it says.
The Christian tradition also knows the mystery of the divine Word. Yet it expresses it differently, because the Word of God is not first a sequence of letters or even a book: it is a Person: “The Word became flesh.”8.
From that point on, the mystery is no longer merely a sign to be recited or an enigma to be contemplated. It becomes an encounter, a presence, a face. The question therefore remains open: is the divine word meant to remain closed, or to reveal itself fully in a person?
The first verse of this second surah contains neither statement, nor narrative, nor command. It simply consists of three letters of the Arabic alphabet pronounced separately: Alif, Lām, Mīm. These letters form neither a word nor a sentence, and translations of the Qur’an preserve them as they are, since they cannot really be rendered otherwise.
This opening is all the more surprising because it stands at the threshold of the longest surah of the Qur’an. Before any moral exhortation or doctrinal statement, the text begins with a sequence whose function is not explained. The reader thus enters the surah through a sign that precedes the discourse itself.
This singular threshold nevertheless prepares what follows. From the very next verse, the surah declares: “This is the Book in which there is no doubt” (S. 2:2). The proclamation of certainty therefore comes immediately after an opening that itself remains completely obscure.
These letters belong to a broader phenomenon within the Qur’an. Twenty-nine surahs begin with such sequences, which the Islamic tradition calls al-ḥurūf al-muqaṭṭaʿa, meaning the “separated letters” or “isolated letters.” Their presence is therefore not an isolated case but a recurring feature in the structure of the Qur’anic text.
These sequences take various forms. Some surahs begin with a single letter, such as Nūn (S. 68:1); others with two, such as Ṭā-Hā (S. 20:1); while some present three, four, or five, such as Kāf-Hā-Yāʾ-ʿAyn-Ṣād (S. 19:1). The diversity of combinations shows that this is not a single formula repeated mechanically.
Despite this variety, the text never provides a direct explanation. The letters appear at the beginning of a surah, and then the Qur’anic discourse continues without any further comment. The reader thus encounters a recurring element whose function remains implicit within the text itself.
Very early on, Muslim commentators tried to explain these letters. Some suggested that they were initials or abbreviations referring to divine names or known formulas. A tradition reported by al-Ṭabarī, for example, attributes to Ibn ʿAbbās the following interpretation: Alif-Lām-Mīm would mean anā Allāh aʿlam, that is: “I, Allah, know best.”1.
Other exegetes refused to assign any precise explanation. According to them, these letters do indeed have a meaning, but that meaning is known to Allah alone and remains inaccessible to human beings. This position has remained highly influential, precisely because it preserves the mystery without claiming to resolve it.
In religious practice, these letters are recited like the rest of the Qur’an. Their presence is therefore not only a matter of interpretation but also an element of prayer. A hadith reported by al-Tirmidhī states that every letter of the Book brings spiritual reward, even when its meaning is not understood2.
Modern researchers have also proposed various hypotheses. Some orientalists have suggested that these might be ancient scribal marks, transmission signs, or notations connected with the manuscript history of the text3. Others have proposed liturgical, symbolic, or even cryptographic interpretations.
Yet none of these hypotheses has ultimately prevailed. The proposals are numerous, sometimes ingenious, but none allows a definitive conclusion. After centuries of study, these letters therefore remain without a unanimously accepted explanation, neither within the Muslim tradition nor within critical research.
This observation is worth noting. Qur’anic exegesis is one of the most extensive and sophisticated interpretative traditions in religious history. Yet from the very first verse of the longest surah of the Qur’an, it encounters a threshold it has not been able to cross fully.
A first tension appears within the Qur’an itself. The Qur’anic text repeatedly claims to be clear, explicit, and given so that it may be understood. For example: “These are the verses of a clear Book” (S. 12:1), and then: “We have sent it down as an Arabic Qur’an so that you may understand” (S. 12:2).
Yet here the text opens with a sequence whose meaning remains unknown. For centuries, no one has been able to provide an explanation that is certain and universally recognized. A genuine question therefore arises: how can a Book that presents itself as clear begin with something that neither the text nor the tradition truly explains?
The difficulty goes beyond the case of Alif-Lām-Mīm alone. It touches the very nature of Qur’anic revelation. Should a divine word be immediately intelligible, or can it require assent before it has even revealed its meaning?
The Bible also acknowledges that God surpasses human understanding. The prophet Isaiah reports this divine word: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways”4. Likewise, Saint Paul exclaims: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!”5.
In the biblical tradition as well, the letter can play a structuring role in expressing revelation. Some psalms are built according to the order of the Hebrew alphabet: each verse or stanza begins with a different letter. Psalm 118 [119], for example, is organized into twenty-two sections corresponding to the twenty-two letters of the alphabet6.
At the same time, the Bible insists on the necessity of understanding the revealed word. When the Ethiopian eunuch reads Isaiah, Philip asks him: “Do you understand what you are reading?”7. Mystery therefore does not abolish intelligence; rather, it calls for a word that opens itself and allows interpretation.
These three letters ultimately raise a broader question than their own enigma. They compel us to reflect on the relationship between revelation, mystery, and understanding. Here, trust seems to precede explanation, and submission to the text precedes understanding of what it says.
The Christian tradition also knows the mystery of the divine Word. Yet it expresses it differently, because the Word of God is not first a sequence of letters or even a book: it is a Person: “The Word became flesh.”8.
From that point on, the mystery is no longer merely a sign to be recited or an enigma to be contemplated. It becomes an encounter, a presence, a face. The question therefore remains open: is the divine word meant to remain closed, or to reveal itself fully in a person?
1 Al-Ṭabarī, Jāmiʿ al-bayān: “Ibn ʿAbbās said: Alif-Lām-Mīm means: I am Allah, the All-Knowing.” — Example of an early interpretation of the isolated letters.
2 Al-Tirmidhī, Sunan: “I do not say that Alif-Lām-Mīm is one letter; Alif is a letter, Lām is a letter, Mīm is a letter.” — Each letter recited is considered meritorious.
3 Theodor Nöldeke, Geschichte des Qorāns: Hypothesis of ancient marks linked to manuscript transmission. — Modern research has proposed several explanations without reaching a definitive conclusion.
4 Isaiah 55:8-9: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.” — God surpasses human understanding.
5 Romans 11:33: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” — Divine wisdom surpasses human intelligence.
6 Psalm 119 [118]: alphabetic psalm where each stanza follows the order of the Hebrew alphabet — example of the symbolic use of the alphabet in biblical prayer.
7 Acts 8:30-31: “Do you understand what you are reading?” — Revelation also calls for understanding.
8 John 1:14: “And the Word became flesh.” — In the Christian faith, the Word becomes a person.
