Introduction

The literature on Islam and evolution in the English language has been growing steadily in recent decades (Guessoum 2016). Most of the work has been focused around cataloguing the views of authoritative figures (e.g., Kaya 2012; Arjomand 2020), while some constructive work has also been done (e.g., Jalajel 2009, 2018). An attempt at both a descriptive survey with constructive conclusions is Malik (2021), wherein a useful four‐tier classification of Muslim perspectives on evolution was suggested. This is summarized in Table 1.

With a focus on common ancestry, the positions are articulated as follows: Creationism, understood as the direct creation of every single species without common ancestry, is in direct opposition to the “no exceptions” camp, which believes in everything that evolution has to offer. In between these two positions are camps that accept common ancestry but with caveats. Human exceptionalism is the position that every biological entity is a product of evolution except for the human race. Adamic exceptionalism is the thesis that only Adam and Eve were miraculous creations, but there could have been other human beings created through evolutionary processes that coexisted with them. Adam's descendants could have intermarried with these co‐/pre‐Adamic human beings, thus fostering a lineage that traces back to Adam and Eve but also the rest of the history of life. This classification will be helpful when articulating the positions of the thinkers mentioned in this article.

As surveyed in the literature, most of the work done on Islam and evolution, at least in the English language, is focused on Sunnī perspectives. It therefore marginalizes other voices such as Shīʿī ones. Seyyed Hossein Nasr is an exception and a prominent voice that represents a Shīʿī perspective in the English literature. Through the lens of Neoplatonism, Nasr argues for creationism (Nasr 2006). Aside from Nasr, there has a been a steady growth of publications dealing with Shīʿī opinions on evolution, including the Lamarckism of Mohammad Taqī Anṣārī Kāshānī (d. 1902), the creationism of Muḥammad Ḥusayn al‐Ṭabāṭabāʾī (d. 1981), and the outright evolutionism of Yadallah Saḥābī (d. 2002), among others (Arjomand 2020; Daneshgar 2020). However, there are many other Shīʿī voices that have yet to studied.

This is the first article in English to focus exclusively on the Shīʾī scholar, Kamāl al‐Ḥaydarī (b. 1957). A provocative and widely read thinker, Ḥaydarī has gained a massive following online for his willingness to discuss difficult topics in Islamic thought and to engage in thoughtful self‐criticism of the Shīʿī theological school, which he represents as an absolute authority for the laity (marjiʿ). Educated in Najaf and later in Qom under some of the most prominent Shīʿī theologians of his age, Kamāl Ḥaydarī belongs to the lineage of the celebrated theologian and exegete Muḥammad Ḥusayn al‐Ṭabāṭabāʾī through the latter's students Javādī Amolī (b. 1933) and Ḥasan Ḥasanzadeh Amolī (d. 2021). ¹

Ḥaydarī offers a unique proposal that has not been acknowledged nor analyzed in the current Islam and evolution discourse. His proposal is exceptional in several ways. First, it builds upon the work of the preeminent Shīʿī exegete of the modern period, Muḥammad Ḥusayn al‐Ṭabāṭabāʾī, the author of The Balance in Interpretation of Qur'ān (Al‐Mīzān fī Tafsīr al‐Qur'ān), which remains a widely regarded exegesis in the Shīʿī tradition to this day (Jawādī Āmolī 2012; Harīsī 2012). Ḥaydarī consistently speaks in terms of a critical conversation with Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s readings, as we shall see (Ḥaydarī 2018a, 2018b, 2018e, 2018f, 2018g). Ṭabāṭabāʾī appears to have accepted macroevolutionary readings of the Qurʾān in principle but ended up rejecting it due to not being convinced by the certainty of the science of evolution, as well as the hermeneutic difficulties involved in reading various Qurʾānic verses in line with the theory. ²

Ḥaydarī, as we shall see, does not accept macroevolution because of scientific doubts. He is a strict creationist even when he speaks of multiple Adams, an idea that is found in Shīʿī narrations. ³ Although he makes much of his interpretive differences with Ṭabāṭabāʾī, he finally takes an identical position to his forbearer due to his scientific doubts about macroevolution. However, Ḥaydarī is inconsistent in his understanding of the current science, as we will note. He applies “evolution” frequently to the idea of human intellectual and ethical progress and relates it to the Parousia of the twelfth Imām, al‐Mahdī. The hermeneutical or exegetical differences between the two scholars will be of great benefit to the discussants in the Islam and evolution discourse as well as intellectual historians exploring the impact of the natural sciences upon Islamic thought.

The structure of this article is as follows. I will first highlight my working methodology and the sources I have used for my analysis. Following this, since Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s ideas on evolution play an essential role in the formulation of Ḥaydarī’s position, we shall first briefly review Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s ideas as discussed in his exegesis. Once his ideas are established, we will then review Ḥaydarī’s understanding of evolution and how he attempts to reconcile Islam and Shīʿī beliefs with the theory of evolution.

One important caveat needs to be mentioned. Ḥaydarī has been accused of plagiarism—including from the work of Ṭabāṭabāʾī—on several counts in a number of his published works (ʿAjamī n.d.). Due to lack of evidence in my own study, my conclusions do not directly support ʿAjamī’s conclusions.

Methodology

Since Ḥaydarī’s work is primarily in the form of oral lessons, which are later transcribed and often edited into books, his latest comments on evolution are taken from his ongoing series of reflections on the place of women in Islamic law. Discussions on the differences between men and women led Ḥaydarī to give critical commentary upon human origins and therefore the theory of evolution. His exploration spans seven sessions, each totaling just under an hour. They have been transcribed (albeit with significant spelling errors) and are available on his official website. The details of these talks and my references to them herein are summarized in Table 2. As Ḥaydarī also touched upon this subject in passing in the summer of 2017 and later in 2019, these will be catalogued as well. The long talks from 2018 are available in transcription. Therefore, I will not be referring to video timestamps since my primary sources were these online transcripts. Timestamps, however, will be used to reference points appearing in the short clips mentioned at the beginning and end of Table 2.

Human Evolution in the Mīzān

To begin, it is important to note that the context for Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s words in Mizān was a religious debate with his contemporary, pro‐evolutionary Islamic modernist Yadallah Saḥābī (d. 2002) (Arjomand 2020, 90). This sort of debate is not new, and the first refutations of evolutionary theories in the Persianate world date back to the 1880s, and later included partial accommodations such as those of Mohammad Reza Isfahani (d. 1943), as well as complete defenses by Enāyatullāh Dastghaib Shirāzī (d. 1928) and others (Arjomand 2020, 65–90).

Arjomand summarizes Saḥābī’s methodology and views as a desire to interpret the Qurʾān in line with the “truths” of evolution. Saḥābī argues that the Qurʾān uses two terms that are thought to be synonymous but are in fact not: ādam and insān. The former is used to refer exclusively to Adam, the Prophet, whereas the latter refers to the entire human species. Likewise, the terms insān and bashar have different meanings. The former is reserved for humankind after a rational evolutionary leap, while the latter refers to humankind throughout its evolutionary history. Saḥābī quotes the verse Q 3:59 which states, “The similitude of Jesus before God is as that of Adam; He created him from sand, then said to him: ‘Be’. And he was.” To argue that this means that they both had mothers, meaning Adam had a mother and so he was born from previous human beings. Then God preferentially chose Adam, as mentioned in Q 3:33, by granting him the intellect and making him into the rational type of human being we find today. This marked a turning point from irrational proto humans to humankind with a sense of duty and responsibility (Arjomand 2020, 88–89).

Ṭabāṭabāʾī implicitly addresses Saḥābī’s views in two places in Mīzān, volumes 4 and 21. However, given the prevalence of these ideas in his Iranian and Arabic intellectual milieu (Daneshgar 2018; Daneshgar 2020; Qidwai 2019), this is likely also a response to other authors and exegetes who accepted similar views. Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s words in the fourth volume are strongly antievolutionary, while several comments in the 21st volume appear to flirt with the idea of possible evolutionary readings. However, these are then, respectively, rebutted in turn. We will examine comments from the two volumes separately.

Ḥaydarī: Evolution and Can We Believe in It?

Ḥaydarī’s understanding of evolution is drawn from a number of texts, either written in Arabic or in Arabic translation from another language. He is more topical and provocative than several of his contemporary Shīʿī exegetes. Muḥammad Jawād Mughniyya (d. 1979) in The Unveiling Exegesis of the Noble Qurʾān (al‐Kāshif fī Tafsīr al‐Qurʾān al‐Karīm) addresses the views of Rashīd Riḍa and Muḥammad ʿAbduh as apparent in the former's Lighthouse (Tafsīr al‐Manār). They state that the indefinite nature of “a single soul” mentioned in Q 4:1 should be maintained as such and should not be read as referring to Adam. Likewise, they state that only those addressed by “O Children of Adam” are direct descendants of the Qurʾānic Adam, that is to say, only the original Arab audience of the Qurʾān are definite descendants of Adam. Mughniyya notes that ʿAbduh sought thereby to allow for some indeterminacy regarding Adam's fatherhood with respect to all human beings. Mughniyya responds that the view is without basis because all addresses of the holy book are of universal applicability, otherwise they would not serve as commands and prohibitions to the present audience, and neither would they be relevant in deducing the sacred law in the present age. Thus, if we look at all the relevant verses, we see that the Qurʾān affirms that we all descend from Adam, who was himself directly created from sand. (Mughniyya n.d. 4:242–43). This effectively denies the standard evolutionary reading for human origins.

Another contemporary, ʿAbd al‐ʾAʿlā al‐Mūsawī al‐Sabziwārī (d. 1993), states regarding Q 4:1 (al‐Sabziwārī 2010, 7:229):

The blessed verse indicates that humankind was created from a single soul, and this was the Materia prima for every individual human being. This is a matter that all Divinely‐revealed religions agree upon, and which is also affirmed through incontrovertible proofs. Thus, humankind has one origin, which is the reality of humanhood (al‐ḥaqīqa al‐insāniyya) in which every individual, lineage, tribe, and society are united without any disparity therein. They are all like the parts of one person, alike in their primordial disposition (fiṭra), and sharing the same values and pathways for ethical development (al‐sayr al‐takāmulī). By this fact we can deny the theory of evolution which some naturalist philosophers call unto, for humankind is one unique type (nasījun waḥdahu) and it represents a single origin (aṣl munfarid) which God has created ex nihlo (ibtidāʾan) and directly (mubāsharatan) by His All‐Holy Self.

In similar vein, the most recent encyclopedic Qurʾān exegesis by Nāṣir Makārim al‐Shirāzī (b. 1927) entitled Al‐Amthal in the Arabic translation (The Ideal Commentary, original Persian Title: Tafsīr Nemūneh) states in interpretation of Q 4:1 (al‐ Shīrāzī 2013, 5:8):

Now let us see what is meant by ‘a single soul’. Does it indicate a specific individual? Or a single species, i.e. the species of males? It is undoubtable that the outward purport of this expression refers to a specific individual, a single individual, and it indicates the first human being, termed ‘Adam’ by the Noble Qurʾān, and who it considers to be the father of humankind. Likewise [the Qurʾān] refers to humankind as the ‘children of Adam’ in many of [its] verses. So, the assumption that it means a single species is very far from the outward purport of the verses.

Ḥaydarī attempts a more systematic look at the problem. He begins by noting that the idea of evolution as developmental change predates Darwin and can be found in Ancient Greek thought (Ḥaydarī 2018). As we shall see, Ḥaydarī uses the term “evolution” loosely; at times he speaks of human macroevolution from a prior species, and at others he refers merely to the evolution, or development, of consciousness within a single species. Regarding the question of human origins in specific, Ḥaydarī (2018) mentions that he has identified three positions:

1. Man descends from apes.

2. Man is a unique being that is not descended from apes.

3. All life forms descend from a common ancestor, and so man has a common ancestor with the ape, though he was not an ape himself.

In the latter regard, he quotes approvingly from Jean Chaline's Human Evolution (L'Evolution Humaine) that man and chimpanzee are closely related through a common ancestor, which does not mean that man descended from the chimpanzee but that he is “a cousin” as Ḥaydarī (2018) puts it.

Ḥaydarī argues that there is no inconsistency between believing in evolution and being a theist, claiming that Darwin was an example of a theistic believer in evolution, ¹⁸ while Richard Dawkins is the most prominent example of an atheistic proponent of evolution (Ḥaydarī 2018a, 2018b). He says (2018), “It is really pleasing (laṭīf) that in his book The Origin of Species, [Darwin] states outright that there is a creator. Not in another book, but in that very book!” Ḥaydarī, however, is aware that Darwin was an agnostic by the end of his life (Ḥaydarī 2017b, 0:00–0:36). Interestingly, Ḥaydarī claims in his second talk that Darwin did not believe that man descended from apes and that most religious refusals of evolution are based on this misunderstanding of Darwin. ¹⁹ This appears to be an apology for Ḥaydarī’s own creationist conclusions that he repeats multiple times, as we shall note.

Ḥaydarī mentions that he is not opposed to giving primacy to scientific fact in scriptural exegesis so long as we are limiting ourselves to incontrovertible facts. He mentions that evolution in a microevolutionary sense is now established fact. However, since he affirms human uniqueness and denies a common ancestor between man and all other forms of life, he does not feel compelled to read the Qurʾān in line with evolutionary beliefs (Ḥaydarī 2018).

Although Ḥaydarī’s words regarding the probative value of scriptural statements vis‐à‐vis science initially make him appear rather radical, his ignorance of a number of scientific facts renders his conclusions lacking. To begin with, Ḥaydarī refuses belief in a common ancestor for life on earth claiming that there is no concrete proof for this hypothesis (2018g). ²⁰ He also denies that the genes of one species can change into those of another, and questions whether the number of chromosomes can really change beyond a minimal, usually harmful mutation. Finally, he affirms that irreducible complexity weighs heavily against the possibility of random mutations, favoring intelligent design as an explanation in this case (Ḥaydarī 2018). ²¹ Ḥaydarī (2018) states that evolution by random mutations or progressive changes may be true if we understand that it is driven by God. This is a strange affirmation given his doubts regarding chromosomal and broad genetic change. Moreover, his juxtaposition and scant definition of these terms suggests a superficiality to his understanding of evolutionary theory as many scientists seem to agree that natural selection and progressive changes do occur in nature, and that chromosomal numbers have changed significantly over time (Futuyma and Kirkpatrick 2017).

Moreover, Ḥaydarī is loose in his use of the term evolution. He speaks, as we shall see, of the evolution of consciousness stating that the various religious dispensations and sacred laws helped man develop in consciousness, understanding, and awareness, as did man's engagement with the sciences (Ḥaydarī 2018). Although this is an acceptable use of the term “evolution”—meaning something akin to mental development in this context—it is nonetheless different to macroevolution. Regardless, the only thing certain for Ḥaydarī is that the driver of any evolution must be God.

His comments on human macroevolution evince his theism while demonstrating a naivete regarding prevailing scientific explanations of evolution. Ḥaydarī says to an imagined atheist interlocutor (Ḥaydarī 2018):

[If you ask me] why do [I] insist that humanity began uniquely and separately (mustaqillan) from other creatures?… [I respond,] you deny the existence of a creator, so this evolution is driven by who? A wise agent or blind matter. If we deny the creator and intelligent design [(ID)] (al‐taṣmīm al‐dhakiyy) and divine agency, then what drives natural selection? The material laws, isn't that so? Based on this assumption, that this theory [of evolution] does not hold except through denying who? Denying the creator. This is the [materialist version of] the theory I am critiquing at the moment…

Ḥaydarī (2018) challenges his imagined opponent with rhetorical questions, such as why did man advance beyond other creatures, and how do humans keep making such massive leaps in progress while animal do not? He mentions therein a Qurʾānic verse about the subjugation of what is in the heavens and the earth to man (Q 45:13) and the fact that bees always make the same sort of beehive which they are unable to improve upon.

These questions are problematic and demonstrate Ḥaydarī’s limited grasp of evolution and he answers these questions based on arguments from intelligent design. Ḥaydarī (2018) mentions that some Muslim thinkers who were influenced by Darwin nonetheless sought to differentiate themselves from him and it would not be farfetched to see this as his attempt to likewise avoid a materialist reading that denies Adamic or human uniqueness.

Now if Ḥaydarī’s views on evolution are lagging and unoriginal, the same cannot be said for his views on identifying the Qurʾānic Adam. It is traditionally understood that the Adam mentioned in the Qurʾān was both the father of humanity and that he was the first Prophet. Ḥaydarī argues that both of these cannot be true at one and the same time according to the words of the Qurʾān itself. Therefore, he prefers to affirm at least two individuals called “Adam”: one who is the progenitor of humanity, and another who is the Prophet. Like Ṭabāṭabāʾī, his arguments in this regard are entirely linguistic and scriptural. This novel argument is unpacked in the next section.

Ḥaydarī: The Identity of Adam

We must note from the outset that Ṭabāṭabāʾī does not address the question of the identity of the Qurʾānic Adam; he merely mentions narrations that indicate a multiplicity of Adams who existed before the Qurʾānic figure (Ṭabāṭabāʾī n.d., 4:146). This exploration is exclusive to Ḥaydarī. The latter, as we have seen (Ḥaydarī 2018), believes in human uniqueness, meaning that there is something that sets humanity apart from all other life, though he does not mean that only Adam and Eve are unique and that their progeny intermixed with protohumans who otherwise died out, as David Solomon Jalajel suggests (Jalajel 2009, 2018). Interestingly, Ḥaydarī (2018) rejects the religious belief that Adam, the father of humanity, was a perfected human being (insān kāmil), like Ṭabāṭabāʾī claimed (Ṭabāṭabāʾī n.d., 21:260), though he does not use this to affirm macroevolution.

Ḥaydarī (2018) begins by taking issue with Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s reading of, “The similitude of Jesus before God is as that of Adam; He created him from sand, then said to him: ‘Be’. And he was” (Q 3:59). The latter claimed that the verse was the strongest proof for the fact that Adam was the father of humanity, and that he was not the product of a process of evolution as some others claimed. Ḥaydarī does not challenge the second point but questions why this Adam should be understood as the Adam who is the father of humanity, commenting that the verse does not affirm this anywhere. ²² Likewise, he questions why this Adam should be considered identical with the Prophet Adam. Ḥaydarī, provocatively, is suggesting at least two “Adams” can be read out of the various Qurʾānic accounts, and his arguments are entirely scriptural. He quotes the verse, “And He taught Adam the names, all of them; then He presented them unto the angels and said, ‘Now tell Me the names of these, if you speak truly’” (Q 2:31). Ḥaydarī states that this verse could not have referred to the same Adam who ate from the forbidden tree, who is mentioned in the following verses:

And We said, ‘Adam, dwell thou, and thy wife, in the Garden, and eat thereof easefully where you desire; but draw not nigh this tree, lest you be evildoers.’ Then Satan caused them to slip therefrom and brought them out of that they were in; and We said, ‘Get you all down, each of you an enemy of each; and in the earth a sojourn shall be yours, and enjoyment for a time’ (Q 2:35–36).

The slip, as explained elsewhere, is following Satan's ruse to eat from the tree (Q 7:19–23).

Ḥaydarī’s reasons for refusing to ascribe both events to same Adam is rather strange. He reads the “names” here to refer to the names of God, meaning God's attributes. Ḥaydarī argues that since one of God's names is “the One who misguides” (al‐muḍill), Adam's (understood as the Prophet), knowledge of God's names would have prevented Satan (Iblīs) from being able to misguide him to eat from the tree. Adam would have recognized God's ultimate agency in turning Satan against him and therefore he would have stopped himself short of falling for the ruse and disobeying God's command. Ḥaydarī (2018) also uses a Shīʿī narration that Adam knew 25 letters from the supreme name of God (meaning many but not all of them) to argue that there was another Adam who did not know all the Divine names, only 25 letters from the supreme name, as this narrative suggests. Ḥaydarī therefore affirms that there are two individuals called Adam.

Ḥaydarī explains that the first is the one who Ibn ʿArabī terms the Adam of the realm of Divine dominion (malakūt); also the first emanatory cause (al‐ṣādir al‐awwal) of this particular realm. The second is the Adam of our present realm, which is known as God's visible kingdom (mulk). This latter Adam was still “between water and clay” (i.e., not yet brought into being) when the light of the Prophet was created (Ḥaydarī 2018). Of course, neither of these Adams is read to have any role or place in a macroevolution of the human species as Ḥaydarī’s analysis is entirely metaphysical.

Ḥaydarī (2018) also takes issue with Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s reading of the verses about God's preferential choosing of Adam. As mentioned earlier, Ṭabāṭabāʾī refused to allow the verses to indicate, at least outwardly, that Adam was chosen from a pre‐existing set of humans or the like. Instead, he held that being chosen could apply equally to being chosen from among his immediate offspring, who were his contemporaries, or—to take a nontemporally restricted reading—that he was chosen from those who came after him in posteriority. Ḥaydarī counters that it would be meaningless to affirm choice except from a pre‐existing class.

Second, Ḥaydarī affirms that Ṭabāṭabāʾī had gotten himself into a “stranglehold” between the outward purport of this verse and his belief in Adam's prophethood. The common understanding affirms that Adam was present before his children, not simultaneously with them, and that Adam was created as an infallible prophet. Ḥaydarī provocatively suggests that if we affirm that Adam was chosen to be a Prophet before being brought into this world (as Muslims generally affirm; Al‐Suyūrī 2008) then he was chosen from people who are contemporaneous with him. We must therefore accept that the Prophet Adam had contemporaries, and this chosen Adam was therefore not Adam “the father of humanity.” Or, we must deny that Adam, the father of humanity, was a Prophet. To put it another way, the verse forces us to accept the separation between Adam the father of humanity and Adam the first Prophet, on pain of contradiction (2018g). Again, these arguments do not indicate an interest in affirming evolutionary links between these two Adams, or evolutionary origins for either.

Ḥaydarī, following an earlier Muslim believer in the macroevolution of man—which is a theory he rejects in favor of creationism—nonetheless affirms that there is distinction between the Qurʾānic terms “bashar” and “insān,” which are both commonly rendered in English as “man” or “human.” ʿAbd al‐Ṣabūr Shāhīn (d. 2010), the authority he cites for this, reads the first term as a proto‐human and the latter as present‐day man (Elshakry 2013). ²³ Ḥaydarī therefore can affirm that one of the individual Adams was a bashar, while the other was clearly an insān. In this regard, Ḥaydarī appears to hold that Adam, the father of humanity (and presumably also the one who ate from the tree) was a “bashar” while Adam, the Prophet was an “insān.” Ḥaydarī therefore seems to affirm the existence of a proto‐insān race but holds that they were also divinely created. This affirmation does not indicate any affirmation of macroevolution.

Ḥaydarī’s references to macroevolutionary readings of Adamic origins by other Muslims are not adopted (2018c). He mentions Bā Bikr Ḥasan's ²⁴ The Call of the Ruminants (Ādhān al‐Anʿām) and the latter's arguments for human macroevolution (Ḥasan 2007). The first rests upon the verse when the Prophet Noah informs his people that God “created them in degrees.” (Q 71:14). This statement must have been intelligible to Noah's audience, says Ḥasan, so they were likely aware of their descent from other forms. This is a radical reading given the fact that the classical exegetes usually read these stages to be referring to the embryo in the womb. ²⁵

The second argument is from the verse, “Thy Lord is All‐sufficient, Merciful. If He will, He could destroy you, and in your place appoint whom He will as your successors, just as He produced you from the posterity of another people” (Q 6:133). For Ḥasan (2018c), this is a clear reference that humanity was brought forth from the posterity of a prior form, though for Ḥayadarī the form was likewise Adamic and created by God. Ḥasan interprets the verb “produced” (anshaʾa) in line with its linguistic meaning to “raise up” (rafaʿa) rather than “create [ex nihlo]” (khalaqa); quoting in this regard Ibn Fāris’ famous lexicon (Ibn Fāris 1979). While rehearsing these arguments, Ḥaydarī does not intend thereby to affirm macroevolution which he does not believe in. At most, Ḥaydarī is affirming that the prior form of Adamic being was irrational, and after the “blowing of the Spirit” it become rational. We will now turn to Ḥaydarī’s clear use of the term evolution in other than its biological sense.

Evolution of Consciousness and the Mahdī

Ḥaydarī affirms an evolution of consciousness within the human race over time. He claims that the latter is the reason why each successive prophet of God was endowed with a unique sacred law suited to the evolutionary “level” of his people. For Ḥaydarī, a committed Shīʿī, just as humanity began with an Adam (and its first Prophet was likewise another Adam), humanity must attain its apex under the appropriate final guide: the awaited Mahdī (Ḥaydarī 2018).

In Shīʿī tradition, the Mahdī is the 12th and final Imām or leader of the Muslim community from the progeny of the Prophet Muḥammad (peace and blessings be upon him). He is believed to be immaculate and infallible, and endowed with absolute spiritual and temporal authority. The Shīʿī faithful have been awaiting his Parousia (ẓuhūr) since his disappearance in 873 AD. Ḥaydarī, who appears to take a skeptical attitude to extra‐Qurʾānic narrative traditions, pokes fun at contemporary understandings of the Parousia which take the form of awaited cosmic signs of his coming. He says (Ḥaydarī 2018) not only that he agrees with “zero percent” of the prevailing perspective, but he is also at “180‐degree odds with it.”

Ḥaydarī’s vision for the coming of the Mahdī is “evolutionary.” He claims that mankind has been developing in its understanding, sensibilities, and consciousness since the time of Adam. However, the continued presence of warfare, ignorance, and social disorder prove that we are not yet at the pinnacle of our progression (Ḥaydarī 2018). He states that evolution—in this psychological and ethical sense—is essential for understanding the doctrine of the Mahdī, and so a belief in this form of evolution is not only religiously sanctioned, but obligatory (Ḥaydarī 2018). ²⁶ Although these comments are truly fascinating, in the present series of lectures Ḥaydarī refuses to elaborate further on these theological points. Table 3 offers a recapitulation of the salient points of similarity and difference between Ṭabāṭabāʾī and Ḥaydarī.

Conclusion

This analysis has sought to show the way in which Ḥaydarī and Ṭabāṭabāʾī, two prominent Shīʿī scholars, examined whether human evolution may be compatible with the teachings of the Qurʾān. It also demonstrated their significantly divergent exegetical practices, with a clear conservativism in Ṭabāṭabāʾī that contrasted with the more eclectic readings and adoptions of Ḥaydarī, who nonetheless rejected human macroevolution while affirming multiple Adams. He claimed that the Prophetic Adam was more evolved—in intellect and consciousness—than Adam the father of humanity. The study also sheds light on the continuing disparity between current evolutionary science and the understanding of a widely read contemporary cleric. Whether this is due to the influence of intelligent design among Muslims, or simply a result of limited exposure to technical works remains unclear. Finally, the study reveals an example of how scientific concepts like evolution could be appropriated for religious aims: debating the identity of the Qurʾānic Adam and buttressing a particular understanding of the nature and role of the Mahdī.