Among the most sensational figures in Hadith literature is the Dajjāl—a one-eyed deceiver said to perform miracles, roam the earth before the end of time, and claim divinity. Accounts of his identity vary wildly, from a prepubescent child whom ʿUmar reportedly considered beheading, to more elaborate and fantastical depictions. Most famously, a story of his imprisonment on a remote island and his eventual rise has become central to Sunni eschatology, stirring both fascination and fear among Muslims.
Yet, there’s a glaring omission: the Quran never mentions the Dajjāl. Not once.
Despite being treated as a central figure in Islamic end-times narratives, the Dajjāl is completely absent from the only source God declares as complete and fully detailed (Quran 6:114–116). His features—supernatural powers, a grotesque eye, and confinement on a mysterious island—have no foundation in divine scripture.
So where did this figure come from?
It should come as no surprise that just as Jewish folklore entered the Hadith corpus through Isrā’īliyyāt, so too did Christian doctrine. The concept of an Antichrist—rooted in Christian and even pagan traditions—found its way into the Hadith literature in the form of vivid eschatological tales. And the most iconic of these, the Dajjāl on an island, bears a striking resemblance to Polyphemus, the one-eyed Cyclops in Homer’s Odyssey.
The Dajjāl According to Hadith
The most detailed account of this version of the Dajjāl comes from a report attributed to Fatimah bint Qays and narrated in Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim and Sunan Abī Dāwūd. In this story, a man named Tamīm al-Dārī, a former Christian who converted to Islam, recounts a strange sea voyage. He and a group of thirty men are said to have been lost at sea for a month before landing on a mysterious island.
There, they encounter a hairy beast named al-Jassāsah, who directs them to a monastery where they find a giant man—bound in chains, with his hands tied to his neck and his legs shackled. This figure questions them about events in the world: the fertility of a specific region’s date palms, the level of water in the Sea of Galilee, and the status of the “unlettered prophet.” He then declares:
“ I am the Messiah. It is nearly time for me to be released. When I am, I will travel the earth, entering every town in forty nights—except Mecca and Medina, which are forbidden to me.”
The Prophet reportedly affirmed Tamīm’s story from the pulpit, stating that it confirmed what he had already told his companions about the Dajjāl. The narration ends with the Prophet repeatedly pointing to the East and saying: “ There! That’s where he is.”
Other Hadith expand on the Dajjāl’s features:
He is one-eyed, with “kāfir” (disbeliever) written on his forehead.
He will appear with a false paradise and hell.
He will perform miracles and deceive many.
He will eventually be killed by Jesus (ʿĪsā), who returns to defeat him.
Taken together, these narrations paint a vivid picture—but one that reads more like folklore or apocalyptic fantasy than consistent theological doctrine. The entire story is carried through isolated isnāds (chains of narration), with no grounding in the Quran, no confirmation from God, and clear signs of mythic narrative structure.
The Quran’s Silence
Despite the elaborate tales found in Hadith, the Quran—God’s final, complete, and preserved revelation—makes no mention of the Dajjāl. Not once does it refer to a one-eyed deceiver, a false messiah, or a being chained on an island. This absence is not trivial.
The Quran speaks extensively about the end times: the resurrection, the Trumpet blast, Gog and Magog, the creature made of earth, and the fate of the disbelievers. Yet, nowhere in this divine roadmap do we find the Dajjāl. If this figure were truly the greatest trial humanity would ever face—as many Hadith claim—then his omission from the Quran is either an inexplicable oversight or a clear sign of fabrication.
God repeatedly tells us that the Quran is “fully detailed” (6:114), that He has left out nothing from the Book (6:38), and that it is the only revelation we are to follow (45:6). If the Dajjāl were a real divine warning, it would be in the Quran.
The Hadith literature, on the other hand, is filled with unverifiable eschatological tales, often conflicting and rooted in the cultural and theological anxieties of early Muslims—many of whom were converts from Christianity or Judaism. And just as Israʼiliyyat brought Jewish folklore into the religion, so too did Christian apocalyptic ideas find a home in Hadith—including the Antichrist-like figure of the Dajjāl.
Christian Influence and the Origins of the Antichrist
The concept of a powerful deceiver who appears before the end of the world is not unique to Islam. In fact, it predates Hadith literature entirely and is deeply rooted in Christian eschatology. The Antichrist—a false messiah who performs miracles, leads people astray, and is eventually defeated by Christ—is a well-established figure in Christian theology.
Yet, it’s important to note that Jesus himself never uses the term “Antichrist.” In the Gospels, he only warns of false prophets and false messiahs, not a singular apocalyptic figure.
“For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and will lead many astray.”
—Matthew 24:5
“False messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect.”
—Matthew 24:24
The figure of the Antichrist emerges not from Jesus’ words but from later Christian writings, particularly the Johannine epistles, where the term is introduced and developed.
“ 18 Dear children, this is the last hour; and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have come. This is how we know it is the last hour.… 22 Who is the liar? It is whoever denies that Jesus is the Christ. Such a person is the antichrist—denying the Father and the Son..”
—1 John 2:18, 22
These descriptions closely mirror the Dajjāl in Hadith: a man who claims divinity, performs wonders, deceives the world, and is ultimately slain by Jesus upon his return. The overlap is too significant to dismiss as coincidence.
It is also telling that the most elaborate Hadith about the Dajjāl—his imprisonment on an island and encounter with sailors—was narrated by Tamīm al-Dārī, a man who converted to Islam from Christianity. His familiarity with Christian apocalyptic themes likely shaped the narrative he transmitted.
Just as Isrā’īliyyāt introduced Jewish folklore into Islamic tradition, this story represents a Christian insertion—a theological transplant that evolved into folklore within Hadith literature. Over time, it was normalized, despite having no basis in the Quran.
Folklore and the Cyclops Parallel
The Hadith account of the Dajjāl’s imprisonment on an island reads less like theology and more like folklore. A ship lost at sea, a mysterious island, a hairy beast named al-Jassāsah, and a giant man chained in a monastery—these are the ingredients of myth, not revelation.
This entire narrative structure mirrors a famous episode from Homer’s Odyssey: the encounter between Odysseus and Polyphemus, the one-eyed Cyclops. In Book 9, Odysseus and his crew land on a remote island, enter a cave, and are trapped by a monstrous, man-eating giant. Like the Dajjāl, Polyphemus is isolated, enormous, and visually deformed, possessing a single eye in the middle of his forehead. He interrogates the strangers, threatens them, and ultimately must be escaped through trickery and fear.
The parallels are striking:
One-eyed giants, feared and otherworldly
Sailors shipwrecked on a remote island
Monsters in caves or monasteries
Prophetic or ominous questioning of the travelers
A symbolic blindness—physical for Polyphemus, spiritual for the Dajjāl
Even the dramatic tone matches: suspense, supernatural danger, a foreboding sense that something ancient and evil is being confronted. These are the hallmarks of mythic storytelling, not divine instruction.
What we see in the Dajjāl hadith is not unique revelation—it’s a familiar narrative structure repackaged for a new audience, shaped by the cultural and religious environment of early Islam. A Christian convert’s tale of the Antichrist, fused with local Arabian folklore, and decorated with storytelling tropes that would feel perfectly at home in Homeric Greece.
Conclusion: Folklore Masquerading as Revelation
The story of the Dajjāl is not a footnote in Hadith—it is one of its most dramatic eschatological claims. And yet, this story—complete with an island, a hairy beast, and a chained giant—bears all the marks of folklore. It parallels the Cyclops myth in The Odyssey, mimics Christian Antichrist theology, and is delivered through a narrator who was himself a former Christian. Still, it is stamped “Ṣaḥīḥ”—authentic—by the most trusted Hadith compilers.
This should deeply concern anyone who considers Hadith a reliable source of truth. If such obvious myth-making has not only entered the Hadith corpus but has been elevated to the highest grade of authenticity, how can one trust the system that canonized it? If legends can be labeled as “Ṣaḥīḥ,” then the grading itself becomes meaningless.
The Quran warns us repeatedly against following conjecture, inherited tales, and unsanctioned sources in religion. It proclaims itself as the only source for religious law and our benchmark for truth, requiring no supplementary myths or borrowed theology. And it never mentions the Dajjāl—not once.
This isn’t just about one story. It exposes a structural problem: the Hadith corpus is not divine revelation. It is a man-made archive, vulnerable to the same cultural, religious, and literary influences as any other historical text. The Dajjāl narrative—vivid, theatrical, and utterly absent from the Quran—reveals just how far Hadith can drift from the purity of God’s word.
“These are God’s revelations—in truth. So in what Hadith after God and His revelations will they believe?”
—Quran 45:6
Appendix:
Sahih Muslim 2942a
Fatimah bint Qays, the sister of al-Dahhak ibn Qays and one of the early emigrant women, was asked by ʿAmir ibn Sharāḥīl al-Shaʿbī from the tribe of Hamdan:
“Tell me a hadith that you heard directly from the Messenger of God (ﷺ), not through anyone else.”
She said:
“If you like, I will do so.”
He said:
“Yes, please do.”
She said:
“I married Ibn al-Mughīrah—he was among the best young men of Quraysh at the time. He was martyred in the first battles alongside the Messenger of God. After I completed my waiting period (‘iddah), ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ibn ʿAwf and several other companions proposed to me. Then the Messenger of God also proposed to me on behalf of his freedman, Usāma ibn Zayd. I had heard the Messenger of God say: ‘Whoever loves me should love Usāma.’
So when the Prophet spoke to me, I said, ‘My affairs are in your hands. Marry me to whomever you wish.’ He said: ‘Move in with Umm Sharīk.’ Now, Umm Sharīk was a wealthy woman of the Anṣār who spent generously in God’s cause, and many guests used to stay at her home.
I said: ‘I will do so.’
He said: ‘No, don’t do that. Umm Sharīk receives many guests, and I fear that your scarf may fall, or your legs become exposed, and people might see something you dislike. Rather, move in with your cousin, ʿAbd Allāh ibn ʿAmr ibn Umm Maktūm—he is a blind man from the same clan as you (Banu Fihr, Quraysh).’
So I moved in with him. After my waiting period ended, I heard the caller of the Messenger of God announcing: ‘Prayer is to be gathered!’ I went to the mosque and prayed with the Prophet. I stood in the row of women closest to the men. After the Prophet finished, he sat on the pulpit laughing and said:
‘Let everyone remain in their place.’
Then he said: ‘Do you know why I gathered you?’
They said: ‘God and His Messenger know best.’
He said:
‘By God, I did not gather you out of fear or hope. Rather, I gathered you because Tamīm al-Dārī, who was a Christian, came, pledged allegiance, and accepted Islam. He told me something that matches what I’ve been telling you about the Antichrist (al-Masīḥ al-Dajjāl).’
He said that he sailed in a sea vessel with thirty men from the tribes of Lakhm and Juthām. The waves battered them at sea for a month, until they were cast ashore on an island at sunset. They rested on the side closest to the ship and entered the island.
There they encountered a beast— a hairy creature, so covered in hair they could not tell its front from its back.
They said: ‘Woe to you! What are you?’
It said: ‘I am al-Jassāsah.’
They said: ‘What is al-Jassāsah?’
It said: ‘Go to that man in the monastery—he is eager to hear your news.’
Tamīm said: ‘When it mentioned a man, we were afraid it might be a devil. So we quickly went to the monastery. There, we saw the largest man we had ever seen, massively built and chained. His hands were bound to his neck, and his legs were shackled with iron from the knees to the ankles.
We said: ‘Woe to you! Who are you?’
He said: ‘You have come to know about me—now tell me about yourselves.’
They said: ‘We are people from the Arabs. We set sail in a sea vessel, and the sea became wild. The waves played with us for a month. Then we reached this island, sat near it, and entered. There we met a beast covered in hair—we couldn’t tell its front from its back. When we asked what it was, it said: “I am al-Jassāsah.” We asked what that was, and it told us to come to you. So we rushed here, afraid it might be a devil.’
He asked: ‘Tell me about the palm trees of Baysan—do they still bear fruit?’
They said: ‘Yes.’
He said: ‘Soon they will stop bearing fruit.’
He said: ‘Tell me about the Lake of Tiberias (Sea of Galilee)—is there still water in it?’
They said: ‘Yes, it has plenty of water.’
He said: ‘Its water will soon dry up.’
He said: ‘Tell me about the spring of Zughar—does it still have water, and do the people still irrigate crops with it?’
They said: ‘Yes, it has a lot of water, and the people irrigate their fields from it.’
He said: ‘Tell me about the Prophet of the unlettered people—what has he done?’
They said: ‘He has left Mecca and settled in Yathrib (Medina).’
He said: ‘Did the Arabs fight him?’
They said: ‘Yes.’
He said: ‘How did he deal with them?’
They said: ‘He has prevailed over those near him, and they have obeyed him.’
He said: ‘Has that really happened?’
They said: ‘Yes.’
He said:
‘It is better for them to obey him. I will now tell you about myself: I am the Messiah (al-Masīḥ), and it is nearly time for me to be permitted to go forth. I will travel the earth, and I will not leave a town without entering it within forty nights—except for Mecca and Taybah (Medina). They are both forbidden to me. Whenever I try to enter one of them, an angel with a drawn sword will block me, and there are angels guarding every path into them.’
Then the Messenger of God struck the pulpit with his staff and said:
“This is Taybah, this is Taybah, this is Taybah!” (Meaning: Medina.)