It was supposed to be Pharaoh’s moment of triumph.
The grand showdown had been meticulously planned — the stage set, the crowds gathered, and the best magicians in Egypt summoned to crush the challenge posed by Musa عليه السلام.

Pharaoh had turned the event into a public spectacle; a carefully crafted piece of propaganda designed to humiliate Musa عليه السلام and reaffirm Pharaoh’s divine authority before his people.

But something extraordinary happened.

Before the eyes of thousands, Musa عليه السلام cast his staff, and it became a living serpent — swallowing the illusions conjured by the magicians. In that instant, the truth pierced through the layers of lies, and the magicians (the very tools of Pharaoh’s propaganda machine) fell to the ground in prostration. They declared their belief in the Lord of Musa and Harun.

This was not just a spiritual awakening. It was an ideological earthquake.

Pharaoh’s regime had always rested on three pillars: control of the military, control of wealth, and — most importantly — control of minds. The Qur’an describes how Pharaoh “made his people light” — meaning he kept them distracted, dependent, and uncritical. Through relentless propaganda, he positioned himself as the ultimate source of strength and wisdom. As long as the people didn’t think, his power was safe.

But the magicians’ public conversion shattered that illusion. The empire’s narrative began to crumble. The people saw that even those closest to Pharaoh (those trained, funded, and celebrated by him) now recognised the truth of Musa’s message.

Cornered and humiliated, Pharaoh responded in the only way tyrants know — through violence. He ordered the execution of the magicians, the very men who had once served as the backbone of his ideological control. By killing his own religious elite, Pharaoh destroyed the infrastructure that had kept his system stable.

He justified the massacre as a necessary act to “protect” Egypt from the spread of Musa’s teachings, portraying the truth as a dangerous infection.

Meanwhile, among the Bani Israel (the Muslims of that time), the situation was complex. After generations of slavery and suffering, many were worn down by despair. Musa’s message reignited hope, but it also stirred fear. Some elders worried that following Musa عليه السلام would bring harsher persecution, just as it had brought death to the magicians.

Their frustration surfaced in their complaint:

In other words: “Before Musa, we were slaves. After Musa, we are still suffering. What good has come from following him?”

This wasn’t just their question — it’s one many of us still ask today.

We often find ourselves thinking, ‘I have become a better Muslim, yet my life is still difficult. After all this effort, what good has come from following Islam?”

Musa عليه السلامresponded with profound wisdom. He reminded his people:

Notice how Musa عليه السلام did not promise worldly victory or immediate relief. He did not say that Allah would give the land to the believers in this life. Instead, he redirected their focus to the ultimate outcome — the success of the righteous, even if that success only comes in the Hereafter.

Faith, he taught them, is not a transaction. It is not a deal where obedience guarantees instant results.

How often do we fall into the same mindset?
We pray, we give charity, we strive to follow the deen — and when life doesn’t improve immediately, we wonder: What good has come from Islam?

We expect our faith to yield promotions, business growth, or worldly stability. But faith was never meant to be a formula for material success. It is a commitment to truth and trust, even when the world turns against you, even when the rewards are unseen.

The story of Musa عليه السلام and the magicians reminds us that real victory is not always measured by what we see in this world. Success, justice, and relief may not come immediately to the believers.

Tyrants may seem powerful, oppression may persist, and hardship may continue — yet the ultimate outcome, the one that truly matters, belongs to the righteous.

When we witness suffering around the world — in Gaza, Palestine, and beyond — and feel the weight of injustice, we can find solace in Musa’s words:

“The earth belongs to Allah… and the end belongs to the righteous.”

Faith is not about what we get from Allah — it’s about who we become for Allah.