Appearance
Sūrah Ṭā Hā, verse 121
فَأَكَلَا مِنْهَا فَبَدَتْ لَهُمَا سَوْءَاتُهُمَا وَطَفِقَا يَخْصِفَانِ عَلَيْهِمَا مِنْ وَرَقِ ٱلْجَنَّةِ ۚ وَعَصَىٰ ءَادَمُ رَبَّهُۥ فَغَوَىٰ
Fa-akalā minhā fa-badat lahumā saw’ātuhumā, wa ṭafiqā yakhṣifāni ʿalayhimā min waraqi al-jannah. Wa ʿaṣā Ādamu rabbahu faghawā.
So they ate from it, whereupon their nakedness became visible to them, and they began to cover themselves with the leaves of paradise. Thus Adam disobeyed his Lord, and went astray.
Context and significance
The verse “So Adam disobeyed his Lord and went astray” () sits at the heart of one of the Qur’an’s most delicate theological questions: how should the lapse of a prophet be understood? The Qur’an’s attribution of ʿiṣyān (disobedience) and ghayy (going astray) to Adam immediately raises challenges for the doctrine of prophetic dignity and infallibility (ʿiṣmah). Did Adam commit sin in the same sense that ordinary believers might? Was the command he broke a binding legal injunction, or merely advisory guidance? What exactly does ghayy mean here—misguidance, or simply failure to attain the best outcome?
The verse also poses broader questions for human self-understanding. If Adam’s lapse was not rebellion but weakness, what does that reveal about human nature and the conditions of earthly life? How does his immediate repentance contrast with Satan’s defiance, and what does that teach about the difference between human error and satanic obstinacy? And how does this episode inaugurate the human condition—marked by temptation, fallibility, and the constant possibility of return to divine mercy?
Placed within Sūrat Ṭā Hā’s larger narrative, which emphasizes God’s guidance and mercy alongside human vulnerability, verse becomes a window into the balance of divine command and human response, prophetic dignity and human frailty, disobedience and repentance. The challenge for exegetes has always been to reconcile the Qur’an’s language with theological principles while drawing out lessons for believers about their own struggles, weaknesses, and hope for divine forgiveness.
What the exegetes say
At a glance
The question: Was Adam's 'disobedience' a sin, and how can the verse's language be reconciled with prophetic infallibility (ʿiṣmah)?
Al-QurṭubīCalls it a sin only relative to a prophet's high station, and, citing Ibn Fūrak, committed before his prophethood, so his standing is unharmed; reads faghawā as 'his life became corrupted'.
Abul Aʿlā MawdūdīSees no wilful rebellion but a momentary lapse through forgetfulness and Satan's deception, at once repented; does not take up ʿiṣmah or whether the command was legally binding.
ʿAllāmah ṬabāṭabāʾīHolds it was no sin in the legal sense: no law yet existed and the tree command was advisory; ʿiṣyān means non-compliance and ghayy failing the best outcome, so ʿiṣmah stays intact.
How each exegete answers the question, in one line. Click a name to read his reading in full.
Al-Qurṭubī
Al-Qurṭubī, in his commentary on , discusses in detail the question of Adam’s disobedience and its theological implications. He begins by affirming that the Qur’an itself attributes sin to some prophets, narrates their repentance, and records divine forgiveness. He stresses that these incidents do not detract from their lofty rank, since their errors were rare, often arose from forgetfulness or misinterpretation, and in relation to ordinary people would be considered acts of devotion. Yet in light of their high stations, even these slight lapses were deemed “sins.” Thus, their status remains untouched, for God forgave them, chose them, and continued to honor them.
Al-Qurṭubī cites the saying of al-Junayd that “the good deeds of the righteous are like the sins of those brought near,” emphasizing that the prophets’ “sins” are only so when measured against the perfection of their stations. He further relays the principle stated by Qāḍī Abū Bakr ibn al-ʿArabī: one may not speak of Adam’s sin independently from the wording of the Qur’an or the Prophet’s report, since it is impermissible to initiate reproach of one’s own father, let alone Adam the first father and a prophet whom God forgave and guided.
Al-Qurṭubī then cites the famous hadith of the debate between Adam and Moses. In it, Moses reproaches Adam for causing humanity’s expulsion from Paradise, but Adam replies that the matter had been decreed long before his creation, and since God had forgiven him, Moses had no basis to reproach him. In this exchange Adam “overcame Moses in argument,” and al-Qurṭubī explains that this was because forgiveness had already been granted, making reproach inappropriate. By analogy, Ibn ʿUmar defended ʿUthmān against criticism at Uhud, noting that God had explicitly pardoned him.
On the meaning of faghawā (literally, “he went astray”), al-Qurṭubī records different interpretations: that Adam’s life became troubled and corrupted by being sent down to earth, or that he lost his “right guidance” by forgetting the exact tree he was forbidden, or that it means he became satiated (according to some linguistic opinions). He favors the interpretation of “his life became corrupted,” seeing it as more fitting and dignified. He also cites those who note the linguistic subtlety: one may say “Adam disobeyed” in reference to this act, but not call him “disobedient” as a permanent trait, just as one who stitches once is not called a tailor unless the act is repeated.
Finally, al-Qurṭubī concludes with an important theological note from Ibn Fūrak: Adam’s act occurred before his prophethood, as is evident from the verse that follows (Then His Lord chose him, so He turned to him and guided ). Therefore, sin before prophethood is conceivable, since prophets are not required to be impeccable before their mission. Once chosen, however, they are divinely protected in delivering the message, and whatever occurred before does not harm their credibility or diminish their divinely granted status.
Source: Al-Jāmiʿ li-Aḥkām al-Qur’ān (Tafsīr al-Qurṭubī), Vol. 14, under Surah Ta Ha, Ayah 121, Pub. by Al-Risalah Foundation, Beirut.
Abul Aʿlā Mawdūdī
Mawdūdī interprets Adam and Eve’s lapse not as a willful rebellion against God but as a momentary weakness that revealed a persisting trait of human nature. He explains that when they disobeyed the divine command, their immediate experience was the stripping of their garments, followed by thirst, hunger, and other deprivations. This symbolized the loss of the ease and security they had enjoyed in the Garden.
The key point for Mawdūdī is the nature of their fall. Satan succeeded in deceiving them by presenting himself as a sincere well-wisher, even though both Adam and Eve had full knowledge of his hostility. Adam was already aware of Satan’s envy and enmity and had been warned by God to be on guard. Despite this awareness, Adam and Eve succumbed, not out of deliberate defiance, but due to forgetfulness, a lapse in resolve, and susceptibility to temptation when it came clothed as friendship. This, Mawdūdī argues, reflects a permanent human weakness: people often fall into error not by rejecting truth knowingly but by being deceived under the guise of apparent goodwill.
Adam, however, differed fundamentally from Satan in his response to error. While Satan disobeyed, persisted arrogantly in his sin, and blamed God for his fall, Adam immediately recognized his mistake, confessed his wrong, and repented sincerely with the prayer: “Our Lord, we have wronged ourselves. If You do not forgive us and have mercy upon us, we shall surely be among the ruined” (). Because his lapse was unintentional and followed by repentance, God pardoned him, chose him, and granted him guidance.
For Mawdūdī, this episode illustrates a crucial principle: Adam’s so-called “sin” was not a permanent fall but part of a divine test. His vicegerency (khilāfah) on earth remained intact, but now it was transformed into a mission under trial. Whereas in the Garden all his needs had been freely provided, on earth he was tasked with securing his livelihood through effort, while enjoying the authority and resources necessary to exercise stewardship. The real trial lay in whether he and his descendants would use this freedom in obedience to God or fall prey to greed and forgetfulness.
Mawdūdī emphasizes that Adam’s lapse revealed three human traits that define the conditions of earthly life: susceptibility to temptation, forgetfulness of God’s command, and the capacity to repent and reform.
The earthly vicegerency was thus granted on a probationary basis until the Day of Judgment, with human beings judged according to their deeds. The righteous, who remain obedient or repent sincerely after lapses, will inherit the true and eternal vicegerency in Paradise, the same eternal kingdom Satan once used to deceive Adam.
Finally, Mawdūdī contrasts the Qur’anic account with the Biblical version in Genesis. He finds the Biblical narrative unjust both to Adam and Eve—depicting them as culpable for humanity’s permanent curse—and even to God, by portraying Him as jealous or fearful of human beings becoming like Him. In contrast, the Qur’an, Mawdūdī argues, presents a more just, balanced, and morally sound account: Adam’s disobedience was a temporary lapse, quickly corrected by repentance and forgiveness, and the entire episode served to inaugurate humanity’s moral trial on earth.
Source: The Meaning of the Qur’an, vol. 7, trans. Ch. Muhammad Akbar, ed. A. A. Kamal (Lahore: Islamic Publications), commentary on Q. 20:121.
ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī
In his commentary on verse , Ṭabāṭabāʾī carefully analyzes the Qur’anic terms used and the nature of Adam’s act. He begins by clarifying that al-ghayy (error) here is not equivalent to ḍalāl (misguidance) in the sense of disbelief, but rather denotes the opposite of rushd—failing to arrive at the most sound outcome. Likewise, ʿiṣyān (disobedience) does not intrinsically signify sin in the legal (sharʿī) sense; linguistically, it means resistance or failure to comply. Whether it implies rebellion or merely disregard depends on whether the command itself is authoritative or advisory.
From this, Ṭabāṭabāʾī concludes that Adam’s “disobedience” did not constitute sin in the legislative sense (maʿṣiyah sharʿiyyah), since at that stage no revealed law had yet been instituted for Adam or his progeny. As he explains elsewhere—particularly in his commentary on Sūrah al-Baqarah—the command not to approach the tree was not a binding legal prohibition but a directive of guidance aimed at Adam’s own welfare. Adam’s eating from the tree therefore did not violate divine law, but resulted in harmful consequences tied to ignoring divine counsel.
At this point, Ṭabāṭabāʾī notes that some have described such cases as forgoing what is better (tark al-awlā) as a way to reconcile prophetic infallibility with the Qur’anic language, while emphasizing that the verse has often been interpreted through prior theological commitments rather than careful attention to context.
Accordingly, the Qur’an’s use of expressions such as ʿiṣyān, ẓulm (wronging oneself), and ghayy does not compromise Adam’s infallibility with respect to revelation, preservation, or communication of God’s message. Rather, these terms describe the experiential consequences of disregarding divine guidance in a non-legislative context.
Ṭabāṭabāʾī further clarifies that prophetic infallibility (ʿiṣmah) pertains decisively to the reception, preservation, and conveyance of revelation, and to actions that function as part of divine instruction. What occurred with Adam, however, lay outside the domain of binding law and prophetic legislation.
He also explains repentance (tawbah) in this context as a “return” following the realization of harm, not as expiation for legal sin. Adam and Eve’s plea—“Our Lord, we have wronged ourselves…”—is thus analogous to a person turning back to a physician after suffering the consequences of ignoring medical advice. The language of forgiveness, mercy, and loss is employed analogically, not juridically.
By situating verse within the broader Qur’anic narrative—especially alongside Sūrah al-Baqarah—Ṭabāṭabāʾī shows that Adam’s experience inaugurates humanity’s earthly trial rather than marking a moral fall. The episode reveals human forgetfulness, vulnerability to temptation, and capacity for repentance, while leaving prophetic infallibility intact. Adam’s story is thus not one of sin and condemnation, but a prelude to human probation, in which guidance and mercy remain primary.
Source: Al-Mīzān fī Tafsīr al-Qur'ān, Eng. Vol. 27 under Chapter 20, Verse 121 (Tawheed Institute, Australia).
Read ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s full commentary in Tafsir al-Mizan: 20:115–126 on almizan.org ↗
Our reflection
This is our own reflection on the readings above. It is one way of reading the comparison, offered to encourage further thought rather than as the final word.
The verse “So Adam disobeyed his Lord and went astray” () has generated rich exegetical reflection, and the approaches of al-Qurṭubī, Mawdūdī, and Ṭabāṭabāʾī, though distinct, collectively reveal the breadth of interpretive strategies employed to reconcile the Qur’an’s language with the theological principle of prophetic dignity. All three commentators agree that Adam’s lapse was not a defiant act of rebellion, but they explain it with different emphases and levels of conceptual precision.
Al-Qurṭubī accepts at face value that the Qur’an attributes ʿiṣyān (disobedience) and ghayy (error) to Adam, yet he qualifies these terms in a way that safeguards Adam’s honor. He explains that prophets’ “sins” are relative: what would count as pious action for ordinary people can be described as error when measured against the lofty standards of prophecy. For this reason, Adam’s act is not to be reproached, especially since it was immediately followed by repentance and forgiveness. Al-Qurṭubī softens the theological implications by interpreting faghawā as “his life became troubled” rather than as theological misguidance, but he does not systematically resolve whether the command about the tree was legislative or advisory. His approach is thus pastoral, reverential, and reconciliatory, though it leaves room for ambiguity about prophetic infallibility.
Mawdūdī, by contrast, shifts the focus from legal categories of sin to the moral and psychological dimensions of human weakness. For him, Adam and Eve did not commit sin at all in the sense of intentional disobedience. Rather, they fell into error because of forgetfulness and misplaced trust: Satan deceived them under the guise of sincere friendship. Their lapse is therefore paradigmatic of the human condition—people often err, not by knowingly rejecting God, but by succumbing to temptation cloaked in appealing form. What distinguishes Adam from Satan, Mawdūdī insists, is Adam’s immediate repentance, contrasted with Satan’s arrogant persistence. In this way, the story inaugurates humanity’s trial on earth, defined by susceptibility to temptation, forgetfulness, and the capacity for repentance. Unlike al-Qurṭubī, Mawdūdī does not dwell on the linguistic nuances of ʿiṣyān and ghayy, nor on the question of advisory versus legislative commands. His aim is more practical and moralistic: to reassure readers of prophetic dignity and to present Adam as a moral model of repentance, while contrasting the Qur’anic narrative with the harsher biblical version.
Ṭabāṭabāʾī, however, develops the most systematic and linguistically precise interpretation. He argues that no sharīʿah had yet been legislated for Adam and his descendants while in the Garden; the first legislative command came only after their descent to earth. Thus, the prohibition of the tree was advisory, not legislative. On this basis, Adam’s act cannot be considered sin in the shariah sense. This distinction allows Ṭabāṭabāʾī to reconcile the Qur’an’s attribution of ʿiṣyān and ghayy with the doctrine of prophetic infallibility (ʿiṣmah). He clarifies that prophets cannot err in receiving, preserving, or conveying revelation, nor can their conduct undermine the divine mission entrusted to them. Rather, what remains possible is the occurrence of non-legislative actions whose consequences unfold within the realm of divine guidance, without entailing sin, error in judgment, or any compromise of their prophetic function. Linguistically, he explains that ghayy here means failure to secure the best outcome, not theological deviation, and that ʿiṣyān signifies resistance to advice as much as to authoritative command. His analogy of Adam’s repentance to a patient repenting before his doctor illustrates this point: Adam wronged himself by disregarding advice but he did not rebel against a divine law.
Viewed together, the three exegetes demonstrate different layers of the Islamic hermeneutical tradition. Al-Qurṭubī reflects the classical Sunni tendency to preserve prophetic honor while not fully systematizing the issue of infallibility. Mawdūdī represents a modern moral-reformist perspective, emphasizing human weakness, temptation, and repentance as the central lessons of Adam’s story. Ṭabāṭabāʾī offers a theologically rigorous and linguistically grounded account, distinguishing advisory from legislative commands to maintain both the Qur’an’s language and the theological necessity of prophetic sinlessness. While their emphases differ, they converge on one fundamental point: Adam’s act was not sin in the sense of intentional rebellion against God. It was a lapse—whether described as minor error, human weakness, or neglect of the better option—that was immediately corrected through repentance and divine mercy. The story, in all three readings, remains a lesson not about prophetic failure but about God’s wisdom in inaugurating humanity’s trial on earth with guidance, mercy, and the assurance of forgiveness.
What is your reflection?
How do you read this comparison? Do you see it differently, or have other ideas to add? We would like to hear from you.
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