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.
These two verses conclude the portrait of the believer opened in verse 2. After faith in the unseen, prayer, and almsgiving (v. 3), two further traits appear: belief in all revelations and certainty about the life to come. Together, these five traits form the Qur’anic portrait of the believer.
The verb yūqinūna, in verse 4, deserves attention. It does not simply mean “to believe” — it means “to have certainty.” Faith in the life to come is not an opinion or a hesitant hope: it is a rooted conviction. The Qur’an thus distinguishes between ordinary faith (īmān) and this deeper certainty (yaqīn) that leaves no room for doubt.
Verse 5 answers this description with a double promise. The word hudā — guidance, a traced path — comes from Allah himself. And the word mufliḥūn, often translated as “the blessed” or “the prosperous,” carries in Arabic the idea of complete success, a lasting flourishing. It is not only a future reward: it already suggests a victorious posture here and now.
Faith in earlier revelations is explicitly required in several Qur’anic passages. “Say: we believe in Allah and in what has been revealed to us, and in what was revealed to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob and the tribes, and in what Moses and ʿĪsā (the “Qur’anic Jesus”) received” (Q. 2:136). Refusing this broader faith is even presented as a real departure from the path (Q. 4:150–151).
The certainty of the life to come (ākhira) also runs throughout the Qur’an. Without it, Qur’anic morality would lose its driving force: it is the horizon of judgment that gives weight to human actions. The Meccan surahs especially insist on this theme: the final judgment is near, resurrection certain, and recompense unavoidable (Q. 75:1–6; Q. 82:1–5).
The word mufliḥūn likewise appears several times as a solemn conclusion — notably at the end of a teaching or a list of qualities (Q. 23:1; Q. 3:104). It functions like a seal: these are the ones who have truly succeeded.
Verse 4 calls for belief in “what was revealed before” Muhammad. The formulation is broad: elsewhere the Qur’an explicitly names the Torah (Q. 5:44), the Psalms (Q. 17:55), and the Gospel (Q. 5:46) as revelations given by Allah. The Qur’anic text therefore recognizes these books as bearers of a real divine word. Yet the Qur’an also states that these Scriptures were altered or distorted by some of their guardians (taḥrīf, Q. 5:13; Q. 2:79). A tension therefore appears: how can one believe in revelations that are simultaneously regarded as altered?
The tension becomes sharper when one asks how this faith is lived. If the biblical texts in circulation are no longer reliable, the believer no longer refers directly to them, but to the image of them presented by the Qur’an. Faith in earlier revelations then becomes, in practice, faith in what the Qur’an says about those revelations — not in the texts themselves. This shift is real, and classical commentators such as al-Ṭabarī do not ignore it.
From the Christian side, the question appears differently. Earlier revelations are not added to faith in Christ: they find their meaning and fulfillment in him. Jesus does not come to abolish the Law and the Prophets; he declares that he fulfills them1. It is not a matter of believing in a succession of revelations: it is one movement, one history, whose meaning and culmination is found in him.
The idea of successive revelations given to different prophets long predates Islam. Second Temple Judaism already recognizes a history of revelation: the Torah given to Moses, then the word transmitted by the prophets. Rabbinic tradition later developed this idea by speaking of a Torah transmitted from generation to generation, from the prophets to the sages. Christianity anchors its faith in this same continuity between the two Testaments: the same God speaks in different times and modes before speaking in his Son2.
The certainty of the life to come is likewise a shared inheritance. Second Temple Judaism, particularly the Pharisees, defended the resurrection of the dead against the Sadducees who denied it. Jesus stands within this tradition and radicalizes it: eternal life is not merely a future promise; it begins already for the one who believes3.
As for the notion of success or prosperity (falāḥ), it echoes the Beatitudes. Yet the two perspectives diverge: Qur’anic success is that of the believer who keeps the right path and deserves his reward; the evangelical beatitude is surprising — it touches the poor, the afflicted, the persecuted4. It is not the same logic of happiness.
These verses belong to the Medinan period. In Medina, Muhammad is in direct contact with significant Jewish communities. The affirmation of faith in earlier revelations fits within this context: it is also an appeal to these communities to recognize in the Qur’an the confirmation of what they had already received. The Qur’anic text presents itself as confirming earlier revelations and calls their holders to recognize this new word in return. The approach presents itself as inclusive.
Yet this period will also see tensions grow. The Jewish tribes of Medina will not join the new community. Gradually, the definition of the qibla (the direction of ritual prayer), the change of fasting practices, and the accusation of taḥrīf (falsification) will mark an increasing distance between emerging Islam and Judaism. Historically, the inclusive formula of verse 4 is thus accompanied by a real rupture.
The reception of verse 5 in classical tafsīr literature insists on the universal scope of the term mufliḥūn. Al-Ṭabarī underlines that the success described here is total: it applies both to this life and to the next. It is not partial or temporary happiness, but the fulfillment of what human beings were created for — according to the classical Islamic vision.
These two verses outline a faith both broad and precise: broad because it proposes to embrace all revelations given before the Qur’an; precise because it is anchored in the certainty of the coming judgment. It is a faith that holds together memory and expectation.
The Christian response does not reject this openness — it recognizes it and understands it differently. Earlier revelations are not, for the Christian, separate books to be believed independently: they form a continuous history that leads to Christ and finds its meaning in him. Jesus does not ask people to add one more belief to a list, but to recognize in him the living fulfillment of a long promise. Fulfillment is not an additional text: it is a person.
The question remains open. If human success depends on what one believes and practices, could it also depend on someone one encounters — and on what that encounter makes of him?
These two verses conclude the portrait of the believer opened in verse 2. After faith in the unseen, prayer, and almsgiving (v. 3), two further traits appear: belief in all revelations and certainty about the life to come. Together, these five traits form the Qur’anic portrait of the believer.
The verb yūqinūna, in verse 4, deserves attention. It does not simply mean “to believe” — it means “to have certainty.” Faith in the life to come is not an opinion or a hesitant hope: it is a rooted conviction. The Qur’an thus distinguishes between ordinary faith (īmān) and this deeper certainty (yaqīn) that leaves no room for doubt.
Verse 5 answers this description with a double promise. The word hudā — guidance, a traced path — comes from Allah himself. And the word mufliḥūn, often translated as “the blessed” or “the prosperous,” carries in Arabic the idea of complete success, a lasting flourishing. It is not only a future reward: it already suggests a victorious posture here and now.
Faith in earlier revelations is explicitly required in several Qur’anic passages. “Say: we believe in Allah and in what has been revealed to us, and in what was revealed to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob and the tribes, and in what Moses and ʿĪsā (the “Qur’anic Jesus”) received” (Q. 2:136). Refusing this broader faith is even presented as a real departure from the path (Q. 4:150–151).
The certainty of the life to come (ākhira) also runs throughout the Qur’an. Without it, Qur’anic morality would lose its driving force: it is the horizon of judgment that gives weight to human actions. The Meccan surahs especially insist on this theme: the final judgment is near, resurrection certain, and recompense unavoidable (Q. 75:1–6; Q. 82:1–5).
The word mufliḥūn likewise appears several times as a solemn conclusion — notably at the end of a teaching or a list of qualities (Q. 23:1; Q. 3:104). It functions like a seal: these are the ones who have truly succeeded.
Verse 4 calls for belief in “what was revealed before” Muhammad. The formulation is broad: elsewhere the Qur’an explicitly names the Torah (Q. 5:44), the Psalms (Q. 17:55), and the Gospel (Q. 5:46) as revelations given by Allah. The Qur’anic text therefore recognizes these books as bearers of a real divine word. Yet the Qur’an also states that these Scriptures were altered or distorted by some of their guardians (taḥrīf, Q. 5:13; Q. 2:79). A tension therefore appears: how can one believe in revelations that are simultaneously regarded as altered?
The tension becomes sharper when one asks how this faith is lived. If the biblical texts in circulation are no longer reliable, the believer no longer refers directly to them, but to the image of them presented by the Qur’an. Faith in earlier revelations then becomes, in practice, faith in what the Qur’an says about those revelations — not in the texts themselves. This shift is real, and classical commentators such as al-Ṭabarī do not ignore it.
From the Christian side, the question appears differently. Earlier revelations are not added to faith in Christ: they find their meaning and fulfillment in him. Jesus does not come to abolish the Law and the Prophets; he declares that he fulfills them1. It is not a matter of believing in a succession of revelations: it is one movement, one history, whose meaning and culmination is found in him.
The idea of successive revelations given to different prophets long predates Islam. Second Temple Judaism already recognizes a history of revelation: the Torah given to Moses, then the word transmitted by the prophets. Rabbinic tradition later developed this idea by speaking of a Torah transmitted from generation to generation, from the prophets to the sages. Christianity anchors its faith in this same continuity between the two Testaments: the same God speaks in different times and modes before speaking in his Son2.
The certainty of the life to come is likewise a shared inheritance. Second Temple Judaism, particularly the Pharisees, defended the resurrection of the dead against the Sadducees who denied it. Jesus stands within this tradition and radicalizes it: eternal life is not merely a future promise; it begins already for the one who believes3.
As for the notion of success or prosperity (falāḥ), it echoes the Beatitudes. Yet the two perspectives diverge: Qur’anic success is that of the believer who keeps the right path and deserves his reward; the evangelical beatitude is surprising — it touches the poor, the afflicted, the persecuted4. It is not the same logic of happiness.
These verses belong to the Medinan period. In Medina, Muhammad is in direct contact with significant Jewish communities. The affirmation of faith in earlier revelations fits within this context: it is also an appeal to these communities to recognize in the Qur’an the confirmation of what they had already received. The Qur’anic text presents itself as confirming earlier revelations and calls their holders to recognize this new word in return. The approach presents itself as inclusive.
Yet this period will also see tensions grow. The Jewish tribes of Medina will not join the new community. Gradually, the definition of the qibla (the direction of ritual prayer), the change of fasting practices, and the accusation of taḥrīf (falsification) will mark an increasing distance between emerging Islam and Judaism. Historically, the inclusive formula of verse 4 is thus accompanied by a real rupture.
The reception of verse 5 in classical tafsīr literature insists on the universal scope of the term mufliḥūn. Al-Ṭabarī underlines that the success described here is total: it applies both to this life and to the next. It is not partial or temporary happiness, but the fulfillment of what human beings were created for — according to the classical Islamic vision.
These two verses outline a faith both broad and precise: broad because it proposes to embrace all revelations given before the Qur’an; precise because it is anchored in the certainty of the coming judgment. It is a faith that holds together memory and expectation.
The Christian response does not reject this openness — it recognizes it and understands it differently. Earlier revelations are not, for the Christian, separate books to be believed independently: they form a continuous history that leads to Christ and finds its meaning in him. Jesus does not ask people to add one more belief to a list, but to recognize in him the living fulfillment of a long promise. Fulfillment is not an additional text: it is a person.
The question remains open. If human success depends on what one believes and practices, could it also depend on someone one encounters — and on what that encounter makes of him?
1 Matthew 5:17: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” — Jesus presents himself not as another prophet, but as the fulfillment of the promise.
2 Hebrews 1:1–2: “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son.” — The unity of successive revelations is affirmed in the continuity of the one God who speaks.
3 John 5:24: “Whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life.” — The life to come is not only awaited; it begins already in faith.
4 Matthew 5:3–5: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven… Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” — The evangelical beatitude overturns ordinary criteria of success.
