1. Introduction
Among the 114 surahs of the Qur’ān, the twelfth surah,
Yūsuf, stands out as it contains the most extensive and continuous narration in the whole revelation, spanning almost a hundred verses. Likewise, the story of the prophet Yūsuf, son of Ya‘qūb, is described by the Qur’ān as the most beautiful of the stories (
aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ), a claim that has captured the attention and imagination of several interpreters and commentators within and beyond the Muslim tradition. Nonetheless, the criterion for determining this aesthetic value is ambiguous: it could lie in its content, its language, or its rhetorical figures. This article proposes an interpretation of this phrase and the surah as a whole through a literary and thematic analysis that connects aesthetic beauty with dream interpretation and other prophetic abilities displayed by Yūsuf throughout the story. These two dimensions are combined in the text under the concept of
iḥsān (doing good, excellence,
Lane 1978, p. 570), translated here as “Virtue.” Through the continuous confrontations between Virtue and the various schemes (
kayd) plotted by the other characters, which represent the major antagonistic force in the story, the Qur’ān presents a perfect ethical model that blends beautiful action with beautiful speech, thereby supporting its textual authority.
Western Qur’ānic scholars have long been fascinated by this surah, as it most closely resembles Biblical narratives, due to its exceptional monothematic character and structure. Like most II and III Meccan surahs, it can be divided into three main sections: a brief introduction with an invocation of the Writing and the Recitation (vv. 1–3), Yūsuf’s story (vv. 4–101), and a final exhortation that encourages the prophet and exhorts the Qur’ānic audience to reflect on the surah’s message (
Neuwirth 1981, p. 297). Moreover, the story within the surah also demonstrates a sophisticated structure that has been studied for its internal symmetry and ring composition. Prominent figures in Qur’ānic studies, such as
Neuwirth (
1981),
Cuypers (
1994),
Hämeen-Anttila (
1991, p. 26),
Mir (
2000), and
Robinson (
2003, pp. 148–49, 157–58), have identified this pattern and offered several proposals for dividing the events in the narrative in a symmetrical manner. The disparity among their opinions has raised concerns about the accuracy of this interpretative method, since it appears not to be based on the literary data, but on the desire to maximise the occurrence of symmetrical and especially concentric structures of the Qur’ān (
Sinai 2017, p. 110). These accusations were contested by
Qureshi (
2017), who systematically applied ring structure to the contents of surah 12. Focusing exclusively on features stemming from the Qur’ānic text, Qureshi produced a detailed outline of the surah that takes into account parallelisms, repetitions, and correspondences of its contents. His analysis shows that each of these rings centres on a prophetic persona and some form of prophetic activity (
Qureshi 2017, p. 162). Ultimately, this focus on prophetic matters conveys a message of triumph and the establishment of divine authority that may have encouraged the Prophet Muḥammad by the time this surah was revealed, the III Meccan Period.
In addition to ring composition, scholars have noticed other rhetorical and stylistic elements in this surah.
Mir (
2000) highlighted the rich and deep irony that is ubiquitous in the tale, which informs its central theme: in the end, God’s decree prevails, and all the evil and conspiracies intended by the human characters fail and are turned into good by God. Similarly, Ozgur Alhassen has analysed the strategies the divine narrator employs to withhold knowledge, both in the metatext and within the story, in terms of evidence, judgment, and remorse. For her, these deliberate narrative techniques affirm what the Qur’ān states elsewhere: God is omniscient, and only God can judge people (
Ozgur Alhassen 2021, p. 76). The surah demonstrates that the material evidence provided by the different characters is deceitful—Yūsuf’s shirt stained by fake blood, or the king’s cup placed in the youngest brother’s saddlebag. In contrast, the dreams represent the only information in the story that has not been manipulated, which is parallel to and critical for the Qur’ānic stories, in which messengers of God convey God’s message to people (
Ozgur Alhassen 2021, p. 83).
While it is true that this surah contains irony, contradiction, and ambiguity that demonstrate God’s omnipotence and omniscience, there are also instances in which selected human beings participate in this superior knowledge and agency. The clearest example is Yūsuf’s interpretation of the dreams, and most particularly, the king’s vision (vv. 43–49). The text demonstrates that his prophetic abilities are not limited to deciphering the dream’s hidden meanings; he also creatively uses his divine gift to add an extra year to his prediction and ensure the triumph of life and prosperity after the seven years of drought. This is possible because God bestowed upon him His judgment and knowledge, which made him one of the virtuous (
al-muḥsinīn), as stated in ayah 21. This adjective appears up to four times in the story, always referring to Yūsuf, but it is not the only occurrence of this root in the surah. In its basic form,
ḥasana (to possess beauty or become good,
Lane 1978, p. 570) also refers to this story as a whole, in the phrase
aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ, “the most beautiful of the stories”, mentioned in the third ayah.
Traditional and modern commentators have wrestled with the meaning of this phrase, as it is unclear whether it refers to the story’s contents, its rhetorical and formal elements, or its ethical teachings. For example,
al-Zamakhsharī (
2009) interpreted the phrase in two ways. If
qaṣaṣ is understood as a verbal noun, synonymous with
iqtiṣāṣ, then
aḥsan refers to the form, being the most perfect way of narrating a story. On the other hand, if one understands
qaṣaṣ as the stories told in the Qur’ān, their beauty is found then in their contents, full of lessons, reflections, wisdom, and wonders. Likewise,
al-Rāzī (
1999) acknowledges both interpretations but favours the former in his theorisation of
ḥusn.
Al-Qurṭubī (
1964) argued that it is the most beautiful of the stories because no other story contains as many lessons and wisdom as Yūsuf’s, especially in what pertains to Yūsuf’s forgiveness of his brothers and his endurance of the harm they inflicted on him. Unlike the aforementioned exegetes, al-Qurṭubī explained the beauty of the story through its ethical teachings and the effects it produces in the audience.
This article applies a thematic analysis to the surah and argues that its beauty (ḥusn) is not simply a category for describing the surah in literary terms, but it is also articulated through iḥsān, an axial concept in the story of Yūsuf that defines him and his relationship with God, presenting a compelling ethical model to the Qur’ānic audience. This thematic analysis of the surah demonstrates that Yūsuf’s iḥsān is not exclusively associated with God’s spiritual favour, His judgment, and His knowledge, but also hints at a physical and perceivable dimension to this moral condition that makes him supremely attractive, as evidenced, for instance, by the women’s proclamation of him being a noble angel. The Qur’ān appropriates the same language at the meta-level as a strategy of self-authorisation that confirms its divine status and its superiority over other speeches and discourses known to its audience. In the same way that Yūsuf’s virtue is perceivable in an otherworldly beauty that makes him stand out as the only truthful character and the final victor in the story, the Qur’ān’s claim to beauty ratifies its truth and its preeminence over other human-made accounts.
The Qur’ān emerged in a cultural milieu in which poetic and literary figures were not only regarded as artistic elements but also as evidence of magical-religious authority and truth. The Prophet’s audience associated poetically structured oratory with supernatural origins and considered the former indispensable for asserting and maintaining a claim to leadership (
Kermani 2015), especially in religious and spiritual matters. A prominent example of this belief is the
saj‘ of the soothsayers (
kuhhān), who were frequently thought to be in contact with the
jinn or familiar spirits, and have magical powers (
Stewart 1990, p. 103). Likewise, the language of the Qur’ān had to be necessarily poetic in its rhetoric and linguistic form to meet the horizon of expectations of its audience, and thus be considered valid and authentically divine. But, while expressed in the language of poetry, the Qur’ān employed original stylistic figures and devices that distinguished it from pre-Islamic poetry. In Surah 12, the intensive use of dialogue constitutes one of the main innovative elements and acts as the main technique for telling the story, which has been called dramatic (
Abdel Haleem 1990, p. 186). This technique relies on scenes and dialogue to bring the action forward, speeding up or slowing down the narrative pace to sustain the drama and keep the audience engaged. This is possible because of the oral character of the Qur’ān, which takes advantage of the resonances and associations of the words to establish continuities that are not evident to a silent reader (
Johns 1981, p. 32). This economy of narration is complemented by the dearth of descriptive adjectives, which heightens the story’s dramatic quality by portraying the characters through the reactions of others (
Hämeen-Anttila 1991, p. 18).
Nonetheless, the creative power exhibited in Surah 12 is not limited only to its formal elements, but also to the ethical message of its contents. The Qur’ān blends rightful action and aesthetic beauty in the character of Yūsuf. Both aspects are articulated through the concept of Virtue/iḥsān, as it is the source of his astonishing beauty and his alignment with the Divine Decree. The Qur’ān, while not explicitly described as muḥsin, fulfils the same role as aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ: its beauty, like Yūsuf’s, confirms its intimate connection to God and the truth of its message. By extension, it classifies all other texts as kuyūd, schemes, diminishing their value and confirming their incapability of overcoming the truth of the Qur’ān.
This opposition between truth and schemes is not exceptional to this surah. While the most numerous attestations of the word kayd occur in Yūsuf, several disbelieving figures are associated with schemes throughout the revelation, such as Satan (Q. 4:76) and the disbelievers and the partners they associate with God (Q. 3:120; 7:195; 8:18; 11:55; 22:15; 52:42, 46; 77:39; 86:15; 105:2). It is also present in the stories of Abraham and his family (Q. 21:57, 70; 37:98), and, most importantly, Pharaoh (Q. 20:60, 64, 69; 40:25, 37). The Qur’ān describes Pharaoh and his magicians’ tricks as kayd, which ultimately explains their defeat by Moses, a prophet of God and a transmitter of truth. Like in Yūsuf’s story, the central theme is the victory of divine truth over deceit.
There are three main instances of kayd/scheme in the story: the brothers’ betrayal (vv. 4–22), the seduction attempts by the Egyptian women that result in Yūsuf’s imprisonment (vv. 23–57), and Yūsuf’s retribution against his brothers, in the quest for the just measure (vv. 58–101). These cycles correspond to the main events in the ring composition, and each of them presents a conflict caused by a scheme plotted by one or several characters, which is proven unsuccessful against God’s will. Moreover, every cycle ends with a reminder of God’s absolute power and wisdom, and His recompense to those who submit to him and act according to Virtue. Ultimately, as the surah’s conclusion confirms, the Qur’ān, as aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ, democratises this detailed knowledge of the explanation of events and the ability to interpret reality to find God in it, which had hitherto been restricted to prophets like Yūsuf. With the Revelation, it becomes universal wisdom, available to anyone who experiences the Qur’ānic text.
2. The First Scheme: The Beautiful Boy
The surah begins with an invocation of the disconnected letters and the Clear Writing (al-kitāb al-mubīn). The text’s apparent clarity is reinforced by the following verse, which confirms its Arabic character. This statement is not theological or dogmatic, but a clarification of the clarity of the text, as stated by the following sentence, “so that you may comprehend it.” It is a Qur’ān proclaimed in the language of its audience, so that no listener can claim that they do not understand it. This short introduction ends with a statement of the objective of the surah: narrating the most beautiful of the stories (aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ), which presents the first of the two concepts at the centre of the story.
The root
hsn refers to anything good, beautiful, and virtuous (
Lane 1978, p. 570;
Ibn Manẓūr 1883, p. 877). Virtue (
iḥsān, the verbal noun of its form IV, to do what is
ḥasan) constitutes the most important value of Yūsuf’s character. The Qur’ān describes him as one among the virtuous (
min al-muḥsinīn) in four crucial moments of the story: after completing his divine education (v. 22), in the dialogue with his fellow prisoners (v. 36), when he accused his brothers of theft in Egypt (v. 78), and at the final revelation of his true identity (v. 90). This ethical dimension elevates Yūsuf above the other characters—with the exception of his father Ya‘qūb—as a true prophet and a devoted servant of God. Likewise, some of these descriptions are voiced by other characters, who recognise Yūsuf’s moral excellence with ease, revealing a physical and perceptible dimension of virtue that is translated into his astonishing beauty. Upon seeing him for the first time, the women of the city ask themselves if he is not a noble angel (
malak karīm), which confirms the unmatched purity of his heart. And in the same way that Yūsuf’s character unites virtue and beauty (both comprised by the Arabic term
iḥsān), his story, and the Qur’ān as a whole, is described as the most beautiful and virtuous of the stories,
aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ.
The story properly begins in verse 4, with Yūsuf narrating his premonitory vision to his father, Ya‘qūb. The senior prophet warns him against his brothers, who will scheme a plot against him (fayakīdū laka kaydan). This ayah introduces the second key concept in the story, the schemes (kayd) that the different characters devise, for and against Yūsuf. The following sentence confirms the negative connotation of these intrigues, as it adds that Satan is a clear (mubīn) enemy to humankind. This statement is a clear parallel of the introductory ayahs, which likewise describe the Writing to which this story belongs as clear (mubīn). Thus, in these first four ayahs, one can already see the clear contraposition between Virtue (iḥsān), intimately connected to the Qur’ān and, as a consequence, to God; and the intrigues (kayd), which are in turn linked to the figure of Satan. The surah presents a world dominated by the invisible contrast between Virtue and intrigue, where prophets like Yūsuf play a fundamental part, as they are chosen by God and are taught by Him the interpretation of events (ta’wīl al-aḥādīth).
The nature and definition of this ability are highly elusive and mysterious in the text. The first term, ta’wīl, means, in its literal sense, the act of returning something to its original state, an aetiology that explains the beginnings of anything. On the other hand, commentators have usually understood aḥādīth as the visions (ru’yā) and linked it exclusively to the dreams that Yūsuf interprets throughout the story. But this term has other connotations that go beyond the oneiric, and the narrative demonstrates that it refers to a deeper kind of wisdom displayed by the two prophets, Yūsuf and Ya‘qūb. Both of them are able to identify the authentic intentions of the other characters and see through their intrigues, which enables them to act rightfully and according to God’s will, even when they are plotting, as is the case with Yūsuf in the latter half of the story. Likewise, this term is intimately connected with iḥsān, for it is what prompts the two prisoners to narrate their visions to Yūsuf in verse 37, since they could see that he was among those who act virtuously (al-muḥsinīn).
The following verses present the brothers debating their scheme against Yūsuf. In the eighth ayah, they explicitly spoke as a group, but in the ninth ayah, an anonymous speaker addresses them in the imperative (
uqtulū yūsufa aw-iṭraḥūhu ‘arḍan). Traditional exegetes have usually identified this interlocutor as one of the brothers, but, given Ya‘qūb’s words in the fourth ayah and Yūsuf’s final monologue, this character could be Satan (
Qureshi 2017, p. 165). This alignment with evil contrasts beautifully with the situation presented in verse 15: once the brothers have enacted their scheme and Yūsuf is at the bottom of the well, he receives a divine inspiration (
awḥaynā ilayhi) that reassures him of the promise of future justice. Once more, one can see the binary between Virtue and intrigue,
iḥsān and
kayd, personified in Yūsuf, explicitly presented by text as supported by God, and the brothers, supported by Satan.
The intrigue is sealed once the brothers bring Yūsuf’s shirt, stained by fake blood, to their father. Ya‘qūb remained sceptical about his sons’ words, as even the brothers themselves anticipated, and reproached them that they had let their souls deceive them (sawwalat lakum anfusukum). This verse introduces another vital element for the story and its ethical message: the human soul or nafs. As later confirmed in the 53rd ayah, this is an aspect of human nature that verily commands to evil (inna l-nafsa la-ammāratun bi-l-sū’). It is worth noting that the Arabic word nafs refers to the concept of being in its entirety, a meaning also present in other Semitic languages such as Biblical Hebrew and Aramaic. Therefore, the existence, cause, and responsibility for evil in the world are intentionally left ambiguous in this surah. Far from presenting Satan as the only agent of evil, the Qur’ān admits in this story the easy predisposition of the human being to err and act unethically, which in turn confirms the necessity of the Qur’ānic message. Yūsuf’s definite statement about the human soul has an exception: those to whom his Lord shows Mercy (illā mā raḥima rabbī). In this story, the main recipients of God’s Mercy are the prophets. That is why Ya‘qūb was not deceived by his sons, as seen in ayah 18. As a prophet, his response is to invoke the Divine Patience (ṣabr jamīl) and seek refuge in God against this intrigue. This is the exact ethical behaviour that Yūsuf displays when facing future intrigues in the story, and the ethical model the Qur’ān aims to teach its audience.
The story leaves the brothers, whose mischievous intrigue to recover their father’s attention has unequivocally failed, and focuses on Yūsuf, who was left at the well. He was rescued by a group of travellers who rejoiced on finding him, ironically calling him glad tidings (
yā bushrā), in a clever display of periphrasis. The allusions to Yūsuf’s prophethood are reinforced by his description as
ghulām, an Arabic term frequently used in the Qur’ān to refer to young prophets, such as Abraham’s sons Ishmael and Isaac, John, and Jesus (
Morris 1998, p. 10). The travellers, presumably merchants, sold him for a small amount of dirhams to an Egyptian man who, far from treating him as a slave, welcomed him into his house and treated him as one of his kin. In verse 21, the Qur’ānic narrator recalls how they established Yūsuf in the land and taught him the interpretation of events, fulfilling Ya‘qūb’s prediction of God’s verdict. In addition, Yūsuf received judgment (
ḥukm) and knowledge (
‘ilm), as the recompense of those who conduct themselves virtuously (
al-muḥsinīn). The tale recovers at this key moment the concept of virtue and establishes a direct and natural connection between it and wisdom. Knowledge is the mark of moral excellence, since only those who comprehend God’s signs are able always to act righteously.
3. The Second Scheme: The Women Who Cut Their Hands
Yūsuf’s establishment in Egypt and his prophetic coming of age mark the beginning of the next cycle. Here, it is crucial to emphasise once more that his ethical virtue has a physical and tangible dimension that manifests in his outstanding beauty. Therefore, it is hardly a surprise that the following event in the narrative is the story of his lady’s unrequited love. Zulaykha, as she is known in the exegetical tradition, attempted to seduce the young prophet’s nafs, that human faculty that is easily predisposed to evil. But due to his moral uprightness, Yūsuf remained loyal to his earthly master, since the latter’s hospitality was part of God’s recompense for his steadfastness, patience and devotion. Those who act oppositely, the unjust and impious, will never prosper.
The situation described at the beginning of verse 24 is also crucial for the discussion of iḥsān: “she desired him, and he would have desired her, had he not seen a proof from his Lord.” But Yūsuf’s nafs was more difficult to fall into temptation due to his moral superiority, as understood by most commentators. Nonetheless, this verse presents the inherent fragility and weakness of humankind, and their tragic destiny, which are recurrent themes in the Qur’ān, as expressed, for example, in the second ayah of Surah 103, al-‘Aṣr: “Verily humankind is at loss.” But both in Yūsuf and in al-‘Aṣr, there is hope for those who fulfil the divine covenant and receive God’s Mercy. And in Surah 12, God sent Yūsuf a proof (burhān) so that He would turn him away from evil and indecency and remain a devoted servant of his Lord. The nature of that proof is unclear, and traditional commentators have proposed several hypotheses to define it. Since this event is later alluded in verse 53, when Yūsuf states that the soul commands to evil, except for those to whom his Lord shows His Mercy, it does not seem farfetched that this proof may be related to God’s Mercy. This interpretation agrees with the general contents of the Qur’ān, and particularly with the contents of this cycle in the surah, since God’s bestowment of Mercy is also reiterated as part of the reward of the virtuous in the transition between this cycle and the next.
Yūsuf ran away from the mistress of the house, but she chased him and grabbed him by his shirt, tearing it from behind. Here, the narrative evokes several elements from the previous cycle: the race, the same game the brothers told Ya‘qūb they were playing, and, most importantly, the shirt, the crucial piece of evidence for the administration of justice. Yūsuf’s master, referred to as
al-‘Azīz, “the respected one”, promptly identified the scheme devised by his wife and exonerated Yūsuf. However, the conflict remained unresolved, and the scandal spread quickly throughout the vicinity, which prompted the mistress of the house to devise another intrigue to prove the unfairness of the women’s judgment. She hosted them for a banquet and, while they were peeling oranges, she made Yūsuf enter the banquet hall, leaving them all enchanted by his beauty and cutting their hands in a dramatic moment as they exclaimed that he could not be a human but a noble angel (
malak karīm). Traditional exegetes have understood this statement as evidence of Yūsuf’s unparalleled beauty, which did not correspond to human nature, but to that of celestial beings. As
al-Zamakhsharī (
2009) points out, this is a hyperbolic statement that employs the image of an angel to describe Yūsuf’s extraordinary beauty. On the other hand, al-Rāzī interprets the adjective
karīm as referring not only to physical beauty, but also to high spiritual beauty, especially in terms of purity (
al-Rāzī 1999). The women perceived in him the majesty of prophethood and messengership, the absence of lust and wrath, and his devotion to worshipping God with all his heart, like angels do. This ecstatic reaction is, therefore, not caused by Yūsuf’s external beauty, but his Virtue and good deeds. Not surprisingly, Yūsuf remained steadfast and righteous, following the example set by his father in ayah 18. He stated that, had he succumbed to the women’s temptations, he would have been among the ignorant (
min al-jāhilīn). This phrase confirms that ignorance is not only a matter of knowledge, but also a loss of Virtue, for the latter is the result of the divine gifts, the knowledge and judgment that God bestowed upon him.
Yūsuf’s petition was heard and, despite his innocence, he was sent to jail. There, he met two inmates who, like the women of the city, could perceive with their own sight that the prophet was virtuous (innā narāka min al-muḥsinīn), which encouraged them to tell him the visions they had had. This statement is highly revealing about iḥsān, for it confirms its physically perceptible dimension and its connection to divine knowledge and, more specifically, the interpretation of events. Yūsuf promised them that they would not receive those imaginary foods in life before he had explained their meaning to them. That marks the beginning of Yūsuf’s main monologue, whose contents transcend the limits of the story and break the fourth wall to address the Qur’ānic audience, as evidenced by the grammatical shift from the second-person dual to the second-person plural in the imperatives. Yūsuf declared that he had left the doctrine (milla) of a people who did not believe in God and were ungrateful towards His promise of the Hereafter. Instead, he follows the doctrine of his forefathers, beginning with Abraham, whose central precept is not to associate anything with God. Yūsuf presented the covenant between God and his ancestors as one of the favours He had bestowed upon humanity, even though many people do not give thanks. He then interpellated his fellow prisoners, emphasising the One God’s superiority over the many diverse lords that humans have given void names and who do not possess any authority. As ayah 39 states, the verdict (ḥukm) over the universe belongs only to God, and the true religion (dīn) consists in submitting to Him and serving Him according to His verdict, as Yūsuf does. That is why the prophet can inform them of their destinies: the first prisoner will be saved, and the second will be sentenced to death. Lastly, he asked the first one to mention him to his lord. However, it was part of the divine plan that Yūsuf remained in prison, so Satan intervened and made the newly released prisoner forget him.
The action shifts to the king of the land, who had also had a vision full of agricultural images. He first saw seven fat cows which seven thin cows devoured, and then seven green heads of grain, and seven dry. The dream’s description is minimalist, presenting highly elusive images through a sparse use of precise nouns and adjectives. The king demanded an explanation from his courtiers, using the imperative aftūnī. This term, which Yūsuf already mentioned in his explanation of the prisoners’ dreams, comes from the root ftw, which means to give an informed opinion, often with legal implications (fatwā). This choice of terminology is not accidental at all, since it builds upon this presentation of the world, its rules, and the destinies of its inhabitants, as ruled by the divine verdict. The king seemed well aware of the definitive consequences of his vision in the world, and thus sought the informed opinion of his advisors. But they answered him that they did not possess the required knowledge to explain that vision, since they were not versed in the interpretation of dreams.
Nonetheless, the former prisoner remembered Yūsuf and returned to jail to ask him for its meaning. The prophet interpreted the dream in detail: first, there would be seven years of abundance, followed by seven years of famine. But his words in ayah 49 represent a fundamental difference with the Biblical version and an unexpected development in the Qur’ānic story. The king’s vision covers only fourteen years, and it does not hint at what may happen after the seventh and last year of famine. But Yūsuf adds another year, characterised by the return of prosperity and abundance to the land, symbolised by pressing wine, the same activity that the saved prisoner did in his dream. And because of the nature of his speech—he is giving an informed opinion—, his prediction becomes real. This knowledge into the future is the biggest degree of wisdom that a human being can achieve in life: the clear discernment of God’s verdict (ḥukm). The surah has stressed God’s absolute dominion over his creation and the impossibility of changing or preventing it. But here one can see a human being becoming an agent of the divine will in its creation and participating in this verdict described as exclusively divine. That is the greatest degree of knowledge, as the surah later confirms (vv. 67–68; 76), and it is only available to prophets through the bestowment of Virtue/iḥsān.
The king, immensely pleased by this explanation, sent for Yūsuf and ordered him to return and clarify the case of the women who had cut their hands. The women confirmed Yūsuf’s innocence, and the wife of his old master finally pleaded guilty. Yūsuf explained that this was to prove his loyalty to his master and to demonstrate that God does not guide the intrigues of the treacherous people. He adds that he does not absolve his own soul, since the soul commands to evil (
inna l-nafsa la-amāratun bi-l-sū’). The text is ambiguous at this point, for it could be Zulaykha who voices this statement, as many commentators have proposed. On the other hand, some exegetes, such as
al-Zamakhsharī (
2009), have proposed that Yūsuf is the speaker, since this statement can be uttered only by someone who has abstained from sin. Both alternatives are theologically acceptable, and while the context may hint at Zulaykha, this thematic interpretation prefers Yūsuf, since he is a prophet with high moral knowledge. And, as mentioned before, only those to whom God shows mercy, as in Yūsuf’s case, when God sent him a proof (
burhān), prosper towards good. Once this matter was clarified, the king got Yūsuf under his service and entrusted him with the country’s treasury and warehouses. The following ayahs repeat the description of God’s establishment of Yūsuf in the country and His bestowment of divine gifts, this time focusing on Mercy. Lastly, the Qur’ān adds that God does not neglect the retribution of the virtuous: the ultimate paradise reserved for those who submit to Him and act according to His rules. And through this repetition, the Qur’ān frames Yūsuf’s adventures in Egypt within the surah’s broader ring composition.
4. The Third Scheme: The Just Measure
The third and last cycle of the story focuses on the scenario that the divine voice had promised to Yūsuf in verse 15: “you will remind them of what they did, and they will not know.” This final act of the story focuses on Yūsuf’s mission to his own people, inverting the dynamic so that this time, it is Yūsuf scheming against his brothers. Moreover, the seventy-sixth ayah confirms that God approves this scheme, which is vital for this surah’s exploration of the concept of justice. So far, the schemes had been associated exclusively with Satan and the antagonistic characters, as they appealed to falsehood and deceit in their conspiracies against Yūsuf. Now, the tides change, and the brothers assume the protagonist role and become the victims of a new scheme that seeks to correct the injustice they committed against their brother in the first cycle of the story.
This cycle can be divided into four movements, each marked by the sentence: “and when they entered where he was.” As expected, these four movements reproduce key scenes from the first cycle, such as the brothers’ request that their younger brother accompany them, Ya‘qūb’s denial and resignation, the delivery of Yūsuf’s shirt, and the fulfilment of the prophet’s initial vision. Additionally, a new concept emerges in the narrative: al-kayl, the just measure of grain. At first glance, the meaning of this word may seem restricted to agricultural matters only. Still, the Qur’ān articulates it as a metaphor of justice and retribution for the brothers’ past misdeeds: in verse 59, Yūsuf, now an Egyptian official, reprimanded the brothers for an imbalance in the distribution of grain. While the text does not explicitly state it, most commentators understand that the brothers were asking for an additional measure of grain, destined for Yūsuf’s younger brother, who had stayed behind with their father. That explains why Yūsuf asked them to bring him another brother from their father, although it is easy to guess that the just measure the prophet demands does not refer only to his other brother but also to Yūsuf himself.
The brothers returned to their father and asked for his permission to take their younger brother to Egypt, so that they could obtain that just measure of grain. Ya‘qūb, who had not forgotten what happened with Yūsuf, refused their request. It was only because Yūsuf had filled their saddlebags and returned the merchandise that the old prophet agreed, but he made his sons pledge to bring back the youngest brother. The brothers gave him their word, convinced, as they say in ayah 65, that obtaining the just measure would be an easy thing (
innahu kaylun yasīr). The meaning of this sentence is ambiguous, as it could also mean that the measure that they brought was scarce. However, a subtle irony lies in these words, for the process to obtain such a just measure would not be easy in the slightest (
Mir 2000, p. 181). The Qur’ān stresses the brothers’ naiveté and self-confidence, in contrast to their father’s circumspection. Ya‘qūb asked them to enter the city through different doors, although he recognised the futility of this cautionary procedure, for the verdict belongs solely to God.
The second movement presents the brothers returning to Egypt, with Yūsuf separating his younger brother from them. He informed him of his true identity and warned him of his imminent plot against the brothers. It is not surprising that Yūsuf’s plan is explicitly described as another instance of
kayd. However, there is a striking novelty: this time, God is the One suggesting (if not completely devising) the plot against Ya‘qūb’s sons. The Qur’ān quickly clarifies that this measure was imposed by the context: the scheme was the only tool at Yūsuf’s disposal to take his brothers according to the king’s law (
dīn); otherwise, it would have been against God’s will. Nonetheless, this situation creates a challenge against the division between Virtue and schemes that stands at the centre of the surah. Since the beginning, these schemes have been associated with the figure of Satan, and thus were exclusive to the antagonistic characters of the previous cycles that attempted to use falsehood against Yūsuf. But in this cycle, the text attributes
kayd to God, which poses a theological problem, for He cannot be associated with falsehood and injustice. Muslim commentators have vastly different opinions on this verse, depending on their theological background. The Mu‘tazilite
al-Zamakhsharī (
2009), for example, rejected its literal meaning, restricted only to humans, and understood it as a metaphor of God’s perfect planification. On the other side of the debate, the Atharites like
Ibn Kathīr (
1998) affirmed the text without questioning it, considering it an admirable scheme that God likes and approves of because it contains wisdom and serves a beneficial purpose. Lastly, the Ash‘arites opted for a middle position, affirming the text, but leaving some room for interpretation to deny any similarities between divine and human schemes. For instance,
al-Rāzī (
1999) rejected the possibility of attributing schemes to God and proposed interpreting the phrase in terms of its final objectives.
Moreover, it is essential to stress the following sentence in the ayah: “We raise in degrees to whomever We will, and above every possessor of knowledge, there is One Who knows everything.” The Qur’ān reiterates the inscrutable nature of God’s verdict, which, on hindsight, is not a new element in this surah. Despite his divine appointment as a prophet, Yūsuf suffered slavery and imprisonment. These two experiences, while unjust, were part of God’s plan and ultimately led to something good. And in this case too, the bearer of iḥsān may see through the scheme and expect the triumph of goodness.
Not surprisingly, that is Ya‘qūb’s response when the brothers returned to him. He expressed his disbelief in the same manner as in verse 18: that they had let their souls deceive them (sawwalat lakum anfusukum), and that they should remain patient, since God is the Omniscient, the Wise. But in contrast to the previous situation, where the brothers were actively deceiving him, his words now demonstrate his profound knowledge of God’s plan. Although his sons are not lying to him, what they are telling him is not the truth, for they do not have the knowledge of the Unseen that he has. Once more, he remains sceptic, and sends the brothers back to Egypt, with the certainty that they will bring back Yūsuf and his brother, never despairing of God’s comfort.
The brothers came to Yūsuf a third time and begged him for that just measure (al-kayl), appealing to his charity. In a clear parallel to the previous instances in which the Qur’ān stated that God rewards the virtuous, the brothers added that He rewards the charitable. The prophet agreed to their request and asked them whether they knew what they had done to Yūsuf and his brother in their ignorance, finally fulfilling the divine promise made in verse 15 and terminating the scheme. The brothers could hardly hide their astonishment upon recognising their abandoned brother, the one chosen by God and rewarded for his devotion, patience, and virtue. Yūsuf forgave them and sent them back to their father with his shirt, to cure him of the blindness caused by his deep sorrow. The brothers also implored their father for his forgiveness and his intercession with God on their behalf. Ya‘qūb gladly agreed, adding that his Lord is the Indulgent, the Compassionate, in another parallel to Yūsuf’s words at the conclusion of the trial of his master’s wife, back in verse 53.
The fourth movement of this cycle closes the story by presenting the fulfilment of Yūsuf’s initial vision, with his parents and his brothers bowing down to him. He reflects briefly on the gifts bestowed on him by his Lord, especially the interpretation of events, and thanks Him for His kindness and goodness. Unlike in the closure of the previous cycles, the mention of iḥsān occurs a few verses before the end, spoken by Yūsuf when he reveals his true identity to the brothers, the event that puts an end to this cycle’s scheme. However, the prophet’s conclusive reflection on the divine gifts does not include an explicit mention of iḥsān or its derivatives. Yūsuf addresses God as his Protector in this life and in the Hereafter, and he openly states his submission to Him so that, when he dies, he shall be reunited with the righteous. In this case, the word muslim serves as a substitute for muḥsin, since submission to God is explicitly associated with rightful action and behaviour and results from the divine bestowal of part of the sovereignty and the interpretation of events. The mention of islām in this ayah facilitates the transition to the final exhortations of the surah, destined to the Prophet Muḥammad and his audience. Additionally, the recompense of Paradise after death was already introduced at the end of the previous cycle, in reference to iḥsān, for it is the reward destined to those who act virtuously (v. 57). Through the association of islām with death, this final statement presents it as the natural outcome for a muḥsin’s life, and the spiritual status that will ensure salvation on the Day of Judgment.
5. Conclusions: The Most Beautiful of the Stories
This analysis has demonstrated that Yūsuf’s story is not simply an entertainment tale, but its contents transcend the narrative boundaries to confirm the relevance of the Qur’ān and its ethical message for its audience. The tale is described in verse 102 as one of the accounts about the Unseen (anbā’ al-ghayb), a descriptor which resonates with the words of the brothers when they told Ya‘qūb that they were not keepers of the Unseen (wa-mā kunnā li-l-ghaybi ḥāfiẓīn). This statement evidences their ignorance and impotence in the face of God’s decree, as they readily fell for the scheme plotted by their younger brother. At the metatextual level, the surah’s narration and detailed commentary of this story make this knowledge of the Unseen available to the Prophet and his audience, so that they, too, arise victorious like Yūsuf and live according to truth. This is further confirmed by the last ayah, which proclaims that these stories contain a lesson for those possessed of intellect.
Moreover, in a world where the
nafs commands to evil, the Qur’ān acts as the proof/
burhān sent by the One True God so that its listeners can be saved and prosper. It is, as the last ayah states, “a confirmation of what came before, a detailed explanation of everything, Guidance and Mercy for a believing people.” In this story, the Qur’ān presents an ethical model for its audience to emulate, imbued in a universality that makes it still relevant today. Virtue/
iḥsān entails the understanding of the world and its signs, and thus makes the subject capable of remaining steadfast and patient in times of hardship. This attitude is also encouraged in the pessimistic scenario portrayed in the closing section of the surah: the majority of people do not believe in the Qur’ānic message, associate partners with God, and disregard God’s signs with indifference (vv. 103–107). It is precisely in front of these difficulties that the story of Yūsuf, and the tales of the other prophets sent to the peoples of the cities (v. 109), becomes relevant. However, as the following verse states, “even when the prophets despaired and they thought that they had been lied to, Our help came to them, and whomever We pleased was saved.” It is the sentiment of this verse, with its promise of victory and divine help, that Yūsuf’s story expresses, which may have encouraged Muḥammad at a critical stage of his prophetic mission, characterised by the fervent opposition of his Meccan neighbours (
Qureshi 2017, p. 164).
The salvation that the Qur’an promises, in light of the inevitability of Final Judgment, comes with the knowledge of the Unseen that is taught in this surah. This knowledge is presented at two levels: textual and metatextual, and both are articulated through the concept of iḥsān. Textually, it is Yūsuf’s most distinctive feature, which allows him to overcome all the treacherous schemes devised by other characters and enact justice in absolute coordination with the divine will. At the metatextual level, the Qur’ān is performing the same function by virtue of being the most beautiful of the stories (aḥsan al-qaṣaṣ). Beauty is not simply an element of aesthetic value but a source of authority and truth.
The Qur’ān emerged in a literary and cultural milieu in which poetic and aesthetic statements had a vital and existential function that often manifested in prophecy. Literary figures were not merely artistic devices, but magical-religious means of exercising power. Muḥammad’s contemporaries must have found the artistic appreciation of poetic speech inseparable from its magical function. They associated poetically structured oratory with supernatural origins and considered the former indispensable for asserting and maintaining a claim to leadership. Therefore, the language of the Qur’ān had to be necessarily aesthetically pleasing to be considered valid and authentically divine.
Powerful aesthetic expressions are both conservative and groundbreaking. The Qur’ān, though poetic in style, used innovative stylistic devices that set it apart from pre-Islamic poetry. In Surah Yūsuf, the frequent dialogue is a notable innovation that advances the plot and adjusts the narrative pace to maintain drama and audience engagement. However, the creative power of the Qur’ān was not limited to these formal elements, but also lay in its ability to leverage the awe these rhetorical devices inspired to convince its audience and convert them to the Islamic ethical system it was simultaneously preaching and fostering. This awe was systematised and explained through the doctrine of i‘jāz in classical Islamic scholarship, which paved the way for the literary study of the Qur’ān’s rhetorical and stylistic features in the works of al-Jāḥiẓ, al-Rummānī, al-Bāqillānī, ʿAbd al-Jabbār, and al-Jurjānī. And in this Surah, the claim to superior Virtue (iḥsān) is necessary to ground its claim to truth and the intimate connection of the Revelation to the One transcendental God. Simultaneously, it inevitably renders any other texts as schemes, deceitful and conducive to error and falsehood. This binary explains, for example, the negative portrayal of the poets in Surah 26, al-Shu‘arā’, 224–26, as those who lead the errant, wandering in the valleys, and saying what they do not do, a description that contrasts sharply with the stories referred to in the last ayah of Surah 12, which contain a lesson for those possessed of intellect, a guidance and mercy for a people who believe.