How Can the Book of Daniel Withstand Every Modern Critical Attack?

Introducing the Nature of the Conflict

The Book of Daniel has long occupied a singular place in the canon of Scripture. Its accounts of dramatic events under Babylonian rule, its portrayal of Daniel’s service to foreign monarchs, and its prophetic visions have inspired believers from the sixth century B.C.E. onward. Today, however, Daniel stands at the center of disputes concerning its authenticity, date of composition, and supernatural elements. Modern critics, drawing upon rationalistic assumptions or scholarship that dismisses the possibility of predictive prophecy, seek to date Daniel in the second century B.C.E. during the tumultuous Maccabean revolt. Others, striving to find a compromise, assert that parts of Daniel might be historically valid but that its grand predictions are literary fictions written after the fact. These attempts to reduce Daniel to mere legend stand in sharp conflict with the testimony of the ancient Jewish community, the internal evidence of the book, and the explicit words of Jesus Christ, who spoke of “the abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the prophet.”

A close reading of the Book of Daniel, along with the external testimony of archaeology and Babylonian records, furnishes compelling reasons to affirm a sixth-century B.C.E. date for its composition. A phenomenon frequently ignored in modern skepticism is the capacity of divine revelation to announce future events; but from the perspective of a believer in biblical authority, there is no logical reason to rule out such prophecy. Daniel’s accurate foretelling of the rise and fall of empires stands as a crucial piece of evidence in favor of both the supernatural origin of Scripture and the historical character of Daniel. Scholars who attack the book operate on naturalistic premises and attempt to find inaccuracies in Daniel’s references to Babylonian rulers, Aramaic usage, and Persian loanwords. Yet their charges consistently fail under the weight of new archaeological discoveries or reexamination of ancient texts.

Much of the modern objection began in Germany, where critics were unwilling to allow that a biblical author could predict future world empires. Although some of these German critics treated Daniel with a degree of academic detachment, subsequent generations of scholars popularized their claims and spread them as though they were well-proven facts. Soon, many “Christian” theologians, wanting to preserve moral teachings in Daniel, yielded to these theories. They unwittingly sanctioned a notion that a pious forgery might form part of sacred Scripture, and that Jesus Christ himself endorsed that alleged fraud. This capitulation wreaked havoc on the faithful, who wondered why a text so cherished for centuries would now be branded a deception.

The following sections will examine the crucial arguments marshalled against Daniel. We will see that many revolve around misrepresented “historical inaccuracies,” misunderstandings of Aramaic usage, or refusals to accept the consistent testimony from Babylonian documents. Further attention will be paid to the crucial matter of the “four world empires,” long recognized by conservative interpreters as Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome. Some modern critics attempt to eliminate the Roman Empire from Daniel’s purview, insisting that his “fourth empire” must be that of the Greek Seleucids. By so doing, they eliminate predictions that extend beyond 163 B.C.E. and thereby claim the book is no more than a second-century pretended prophecy. Yet this contrived reading collides with the text’s own witness. Additionally, the prophecy of the Seventy Weeks (Daniel 9:24–27) unmistakably points to the Messiah’s coming centuries after the Persian period—further proof that Daniel’s oracles reach far beyond Antiochus IV Epiphanes.

Historical Framework and the Alleged German Objections

A main impetus for modern critical assaults originated in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries among scholars in Germany. Their presupposition was that predictive prophecy could not be real. Because the Book of Daniel seems to predict in stunning detail events such as the conquests of Alexander the Great and the persecution under Antiochus IV, they concluded that Daniel must have been written at a time long after these happenings. Despite acknowledging certain moral truths in the text, they declared that the prophet Daniel could not have known future history. Consequently, they favored a date around 167–163 B.C.E., during the Maccabean revolt.

This hypothesis would have remained a curiosity confined to academic journals had it not been widely repeated by professors and writers in mainstream circles who claimed, “All scholars agree Daniel is late.” The repeated assertion sowed doubt among many clergy and lay readers, even though some of these professors never seriously examined the mounting evidence in support of Daniel’s traditional date. They replicated the arguments in popular books and commentaries, thereby weakening confidence in Daniel’s integrity.

German rationalists also introduced the technique of explaining away Daniel’s supernatural elements by alleging that the Book of Daniel was compiled from legends or that Daniel’s prophecies were vaticinia ex eventu—prophecies written after the events supposedly predicted. These arguments then were uncritically embraced by others who claimed to be Christians but had been persuaded by the misinformed refrain that “the critics have disproved Daniel.” In doing so, they recast Daniel as a religious fiction. Meanwhile, repeated archaeological finds kept vindicating the biblical text. One of the earliest and most dramatic examples of archaeology’s power to refute these skeptical claims centered on Belshazzar, a figure once deemed fictitious by critics but later confirmed by Babylonian cuneiform tablets.

The Belshazzar Question and the Discovery of Babylonian Records

In Daniel 5, Belshazzar appears as the final king of Babylon, hosting a sacrilegious banquet the very night the city falls. For centuries, secular historians knew only of Nabonidus (556–539 B.C.E.) as Babylon’s last king. The Greek historians Herodotus and Xenophon omitted mention of Belshazzar’s reign. Critics thus concluded that “the pious fraud of Daniel” fabricated Belshazzar. Yet in 1854, cuneiform inscriptions came to light that named Belshazzar the “son of the king” and co-regent with Nabonidus. It was Belshazzar who ruled Babylon’s affairs while Nabonidus resided in distant regions—precisely fitting the biblical account in which Belshazzar could only offer Daniel “third place in the kingdom” (Daniel 5:16) rather than second. Nabonidus was first in rank, Belshazzar second, and Daniel was promised third.

This archaeological evidence caused a dramatic retraction of the old claim that Daniel was “inaccurate” about Belshazzar. Rather than forthrightly admitting their error, some critics now protest that Daniel wrongly labeled Belshazzar a “king.” Yet the texts reveal that Belshazzar effectively served as Babylon’s de facto ruler. He enjoyed the prerogatives of kingship, led armies, and was “the darling of the people,” overshadowing the reclusive Nabonidus. That Babylon’s official dating system might still use Nabonidus does not negate Belshazzar’s status as co-sovereign in the eyes of citizens. The biblical usage of “king” conveys his real power.

Skeptics also charge that Belshazzar was not literally the “son of Nebuchadnezzar.” However, Daniel 5:2, 5:11 simply uses the term “father” in the ancient sense of a predecessor or ancestor on the throne. The same phenomenon appears when Jehu, who eradicated the dynasty of Omri, was called “the son of Omri” on the Black Obelisk. Additionally, the possibility exists that Belshazzar was Nebuchadnezzar’s grandson via a daughter of the old monarch who married Nabonidus. In ancient usage, “father” often encompassed “grandfather” or even further forebears. Babylonian scribes would casually speak of “father” for earlier kings whose lineage conferred legitimacy. Such usage is consistent with standard ancient custom, not evidence of historical error.

Another contrived objection pertains to Cyrus’s inscriptions claiming that Babylon opened its gates peacefully. The Book of Daniel does not actually detail the city’s siege but simply states that Belshazzar was killed “that same night,” and “Darius the Mede received the kingdom.” Daniel’s brevity in no way conflicts with Cyrus’s propaganda. Some Greek historians do refer to a lengthy siege. Inconsistencies between Greek accounts and Cyrus’s official inscriptions shed no negative light on Daniel. Far from undermining Daniel, these issues highlight the complexity of ancient war narratives and how partial records can vary. Yet critics who brandish these extrabiblical sources to claim Daniel is “historically inaccurate” ignore the text’s restraint, which actually aligns better with certain Babylonian documents.

The Medes and Persians: Daniel’s Second Empire

Another linchpin in the debate is the question of Daniel’s four world empires described in chapters 2 and 7. Believers have traditionally seen them as Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome. Critics argue that the second empire is Media alone, the third empire is Persia, and the fourth empire must be Alexander’s Greek realm and its successors, including Seleucid Syria. This arrangement omits Rome entirely, ensuring that Daniel’s “prophecies” terminate in the second century B.C.E., thus removing any supernatural forecast of future kingdoms beyond Antiochus IV Epiphanes (d. 163 B.C.E.).

Such a reading contradicts multiple contextual clues. When Daniel interprets the handwriting on the wall for Belshazzar, he announces that Babylon’s kingdom is “divided and given to the Medes and Persians” (Daniel 5:28). Immediately in Daniel 6, King Darius finds himself bound by “the law of the Medes and Persians” (Daniel 6:8, 15). Daniel never treats Media and Persia as separate, short-lived empires in sequence. Instead, they jointly compose the second empire that supplanted Babylon. The text’s structure in Daniel 2 and 7 affirms a single Medo-Persian dominion, followed by a third empire associated with the fourfold division of Alexander’s realm, and ultimately a fourth “strong and terrible” empire (Daniel 7:7) that surpasses the others. The only ancient power that matches this description—especially in its ironlike strength and its Western origin—is Rome.

Conceding that Daniel lumps Media and Persia together, critics retort that the Book of Daniel confuses the distinct empire of the supposed “Darius the Mede” with the historical Persian Empire of Cyrus. But no historical source outside of Daniel shows an independent Median empire reigning between 539 and 537 B.C.E. Instead, cuneiform records show Cyrus of Persia inheriting the Babylonian realm. Daniel’s reference to “Darius the Mede” who “received the kingdom” (Daniel 5:31; 9:1) does not claim a separate empire, only that a man of Median heritage was entrusted with local kingship or viceroy status in Babylon under the overall suzerainty of Cyrus. Archaeological research suggests that the official named Gubaru (or Gobryas) served as governor in Babylon and its territories, possibly under an honorary name or title of “Darius.” In short, the text nowhere says Media replaced Babylon as a separate empire prior to Persia. Rather, the author was aware of a transitional arrangement in which a Median figure ruled Babylon on Cyrus’s behalf. Through these details, Daniel harmonizes remarkably well with Babylonian sources, further underscoring its authenticity.

The Assault on Daniel’s Language: Aramaic and Persian Loanwords

Critics likewise focus on the language of Daniel, which is partly in Hebrew (chapters 1, 8–12) and partly in Aramaic (chapters 2–7). They claim that this combination signals a hodgepodge of sources compiled in the second century B.C.E. Others argue that the Aramaic must be a later dialect, featuring influences from Persian or Greek. Yet discoveries like the Elephantine Papyri from fifth-century B.C.E. Egypt prove that Daniel’s Aramaic parallels the official “Imperial Aramaic” used across the Persian Empire, not the later dialects attested in Targums or the Dead Sea Scroll compositions from around the second or first centuries B.C.E. Indeed, the form of biblical Aramaic in Daniel fits a milieu older than the Qumran writings. The leading specialists confirm that Daniel’s Aramaic is consistent with a fifth-century—some say even sixth-century—stage in the language. That alone demolishes a Maccabean date for Daniel’s Aramaic sections.

These chapters also contain Persian administrative terms introduced into Aramaic during the Achaemenid regime, entirely consistent with a final editing of Daniel’s memoirs around 530 B.C.E. or slightly thereafter. The presence of about fifteen Persian loanwords demonstrates that the text reached its final form during Persian rule, which started soon after Cyrus conquered Babylon. By contrast, if Daniel had been produced in 167 B.C.E., we would expect Greek political terms to abound. Greece had dominated Palestine for over 160 years by that time, yet the Book of Daniel does not show Greek terminology related to government or administration. Instead, it shows Persian terms. This glaring contradiction with the Maccabean scenario is routinely glossed over by critics.

Some point to three Greek words for musical instruments in Daniel 3:5—qayterôs, psantêrîn, and sūmpōnyah—to insist on a late Hellenistic date. But these are likely Greek terms for instruments that had already reached the Babylonian market in the sixth century. Musical instruments and their names readily traveled across cultural boundaries. Greek presence in the East occurred well before Alexander: Ionian and Carian mercenaries served in the Neo-Babylonian armies, and Ionian craftsmen and shipbuilders appear in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar’s father. Many Greek captives migrated eastward through military conflicts or trade. Thus, the existence of a few Greek words for instruments does not require a second-century date, nor does it point to Hellenistic political infiltration. Indeed, references to administrative offices show Persian, not Greek, origins. This contradiction undermines the entire second-century theory.

The Prophecy of the Seventy Weeks and Messianic Implications

Daniel’s ninth chapter contains a prophecy concerning a period of “seventy weeks” (Daniel 9:24–27), understood as seventy sevens of years, or 490 years. It predicts, among other things, the appearance of Messiah, His being “cut off,” and the eventual destruction of Jerusalem and its sanctuary. These lines are so stark and specific that ancient Jewish translators of the Septuagint apparently tampered with the text to obscure a future temple’s destruction, possibly out of dread that another calamity might overtake Jerusalem. That reticence confirms that the text strongly hinted at a fate not yet realized by the second century B.C.E.

No event around 163 B.C.E. matches a scenario in which the anointed one is cut off and the sanctuary destroyed. Yet Daniel plainly envisions a horrifying ruin of city and temple. This perfectly matches the crucifixion of Jesus in about 30 C.E. and the subsequent Roman devastation of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. Some critics attempt to tie the “anointed one” to the murdered high priest Onias III around 171 B.C.E., but Onias was no Messiah. Moreover, the arithmetic from 536 B.C.E. or from the official Persian decrees to rebuild Jerusalem does not align with 171 B.C.E. Instead, the 483 years from Artaxerxes’ decrees in the mid-fifth century B.C.E. lead toward the time of the Messiah in the first century C.E. This prophecy is among the strongest proofs that Daniel’s predictions reach beyond the Maccabean era to the life and death of Jesus Christ. In the second-century scenario, it is inexplicable that a “pious Jew” forging Daniel to encourage Maccabean warriors would mention the cutting off of an anointed figure unconnected to their immediate crisis. Nor is the announcement of another catastrophe upon Jerusalem something that would rally patriotic Jews to fight Antiochus. The Maccabean hypothesis stumbles from its first step.

The Little Horn: Antiochus Epiphanes or Something More?

Modern critical scholars claim that Antiochus Epiphanes is the “little horn” in all references (Daniel 7:8, 8:9). They suppose that chapters 7 and 8 must be describing the same figure, presumably because the phrase “little horn” is repeated. They then treat the final empire as Greek, from which emerges this persecuting tyrant. But a close reading of Daniel reveals that chapter 7 is concerned with a fourth beast that arrives after the downfall of three earlier empires, whereas chapter 8 uses different imagery of a goat sprouting four notable horns, from one of which emerges a small horn—Antiochus, persecutor of the Jews in the second century B.C.E. Chapter 8 self-identifies the ram with the kings of Media and Persia and the goat with Greece led by “a notable horn” (Alexander). From one of the goat’s horns arises Antiochus. That in no way equates to the monstrous “little horn” in chapter 7, which arises from the fourth beast—an empire distinct from the Greek. Thus, the attempt to conflate the two horns is contrived. Indeed, the Book of Daniel apparently views Antiochus as a type or foreshadowing of a latter-day adversary who arises from the final empire. The sudden shift in Daniel 11:40 from historical detail on Antiochus to end-time warfare underscores that the text projects far beyond the second century B.C.E.

Those who resist this conclusion do so primarily because they regard predictive prophecy as impossible. If the “little horn” of chapter 7 were truly an end-time figure, then Daniel legitimately foresees post-Greek developments, including the Roman Empire and a future world power. The critics thus cling to the claim that chapters 7 and 8 must describe the same horn—Antiochus—to maintain a second-century date. Once the distinction between the two horns is recognized, it is impossible to confine Daniel’s prophecies to the Maccabean era.

Daniel’s Place in the Canon and the Witness of Josephus

Another historical argument used by some skeptics is that Daniel appears in the “Writings” (Kethubhim) instead of the “Prophets” in the Hebrew canon. They argue that if Daniel truly had been a sixth-century prophet, his book would appear among the prophets like Isaiah or Jeremiah. Yet Josephus, writing in the first century C.E., evidently classed Daniel among the prophets. The reclassification into the Writings apparently came at a later period and is best explained by the fact that Daniel’s official role was that of a statesman, not a preaching prophet bringing public oracles to Israel. Much of his writing is historical narrative or personalized visions, rather than discourses like Isaiah or Jeremiah. Therefore, the Jewish scribes eventually included Daniel among the “Hagiographa.” This canonical position does not fix the date of composition.

Skeptics further note that Jesus ben Sirach (Ecclesiasticus), written around 180 B.C.E., makes no mention of Daniel while praising other notable figures. They see this omission as proof that Daniel was unknown in that early era. Yet ben Sirach omits many significant individuals, including Job and certain judges. Omission is hardly evidence of ignorance or nonexistence. Ben Sirach specifically names few heroes from Israel’s history, thus no valid deduction can be drawn about Daniel’s authenticity merely from that silence.

We do, however, possess compelling historical testimony from Josephus, who in Antiquities (Book 11) relates that Alexander the Great was shown Daniel’s prophecies foretelling that a Greek would overthrow the Persian Empire. According to Josephus, this emboldened Alexander to press on. Though some question the exact details of Josephus’s account, it at least proves that the Jewish community in the first century recognized Daniel’s predictive force well beyond the time of Antiochus Epiphanes.

Darius the Mede and the Question of Historical Consistency

Daniel’s reference to “Darius the Mede” (Daniel 5:31, 6:1, 9:1) has troubled critics who see no mention of such a figure in Greek accounts. They propose that Daniel confused “Darius the son of Hystaspes” with a nonexistent “Median Darius.” However, Daniel 9:1 states that “Darius the Mede was made king (homlak) over the realm of the Chaldeans,” implying a subordinate kingship conferred upon him by a higher authority, presumably Cyrus. Far from an independent sovereign, he seems to be a governor. Some cuneiform evidence and classical sources point to a governor named Gubaru or Gobryas, who, after Babylon’s fall, served as Cyrus’s viceroy. Scholars like J. C. Whitcomb argue that Gubaru is Daniel’s Darius the Mede, possibly adopting “Darius” as a throne title, just as later Persian rulers used that name.

The argument that a mere viceroy would not issue decrees to “all the earth” (Daniel 6:25) assumes that the phrase “all the earth” must be strictly universal. Yet the term ʾar˓ā in Aramaic commonly means “land” or “country,” referring here to Babylonia plus the outlying territories under his governorship. So there is no contradiction in Darius’s issuing a decree to the subjects under him.

Equally problematic for skeptics is how Daniel reveals such vivid knowledge of sixth-century events and geography, such as describing Shushan (Susa) as in the province of Elam (Daniel 8:2). Later centuries witnessed Shushan as capital of Susiana, separate from Elam. This detail would not be known to a second-century Jew living in Judea. Once more, Daniel’s accuracy regarding Belshazzar, the prominence of Aramaic in Babylon, and the existence of a unified Medo-Persian empire shows an author intimately familiar with realities of the Neo-Babylonian age and early Persian rule.

The Testimony of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Of special importance is the testimony of Jesus himself. In Matthew 24:15, referencing the events yet to happen, Jesus speaks of “the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet,” and places its fulfillment in a future context. The language used is “spoken of through [Greek: dia] Daniel the prophet,” clearly indicating that Jesus attributed the authorship to Daniel, not to an anonymous Jew from 167 B.C.E. This direct statement from the Messiah stands as the highest authority for a Christian who acknowledges Scripture’s veracity. Attempts by critics to neutralize Christ’s words or claim he merely accommodated popular opinion contradict the plain sense of the Gospels.

Moreover, Jesus’s entire approach to the Old Testament exhibits trust in the historical authenticity of figures like Jonah, Abraham, and Moses. In citing Daniel specifically, Jesus endorses a predictive prophecy that extends well beyond the Maccabean era. Unless one rejects the authority of Christ’s teaching, there can be no legitimate reason to deny that the historic Daniel is responsible for the book bearing his name.

Addressing the Myth of a Maccabean Redactor

Some attempt to rescue their arguments by positing multiple sources. They might concede that Daniel 1–6 is older (third-century B.C.E.) and only chapters 7–12 come from the second-century. Others, such as C. C. Torrey, see chapters 2–6 as third-century Aramaic legends, with an added seventh chapter in Aramaic, plus Hebrew expansions in chapters 1, 8–12 by Maccabean authors. While these proposals differ in detail, they share the premise that Daniel is partly “late” and cannot be wholly sixth-century. This approach leads to a textual labyrinth of redactors that introduces more complexity than the evidence demands. The uniform literary style, the consistent themes, and the historically accurate details bridging chapters 1–12 make such fragmentation gratuitous.

Moreover, if chapters 2–6 preceded the Maccabean crisis, then they presumably circulated among the Jewish community long before 167 B.C.E. This earlier material exalts Nebuchadnezzar’s tolerance of Jewish faith, hardly relevant to inspiring revolt under Antiochus. The idol erected in Daniel 3 does not parallel the idol of Zeus forced upon the Jews. The lion’s den narrative in Daniel 6 reveals a Persian or Median environment, not a Greek scenario. Why would a second-century writer append his “forgery” to these older stories that do not depict the intransigent hostility typical of Antiochus? The impetus for forging a second-century “encouragement” crumbles.

Furthermore, chapters 2 and 7 present the same structure of four successive world empires culminating in God’s eternal kingdom. The consistent internal pattern defies the notion of drastically different authors. Chapter 2’s statue with its four metals culminating in ten toes of iron/clay parallels the four beasts and ten horns in chapter 7. Both emphasize a climactic deliverance by divine intervention. This conceptual unity speaks loudly for a single compositional hand, or at the very least a single final editor. But the critics themselves most often claim that 2–7 is the earliest block. They thus undermine their own argument that the references to Antiochus in chapter 7 are second-century illusions. The entire scheme collapses under the weight of internal literary coherence.

Archaeology and the Vindication of Daniel

Outside of the Belshazzar discovery, many other archaeological findings continue to confirm Daniel’s background. Excavated ration tablets mention Ionian (Greek) craftsmen in Babylon’s employ, attesting that Greek presence was not anachronistic in sixth-century Babylonia. The Elephantine Papyri show that Aramaic with specific official and administrative forms, akin to Daniel’s, was used in Persian domains around 400 B.C.E. This demolishes the claim that an author living among the Jews in second-century Judea would produce an Aramaic so free of Greek influence.

Evidence from Babylonian inscriptions also refutes the claim that Daniel was ignorant of local affairs. The text’s repeated references to the “king of Babylon,” the existence of high officials, the integration of Aramaic for public announcements, and the mention of banquets using vessels from the captured temple all align with cuneiform and classical references to Babylon’s extravagant palatial life. Daniel’s knowledge of lesser-known events, such as Belshazzar’s co-regency, further cements his closeness to that period.

Daniel also gets cultural details right, such as the quick shift after Babylon’s fall, the preeminence of Darius or Gubaru in the immediate aftermath, and the subsequent overshadowing by Cyrus the Great. By contrast, a pious forger writing in 167 B.C.E. would not likely imagine this double kingship scenario or glean from out-of-date legends such a crucial detail as Belshazzar’s existence, which was subsequently lost in many Greek histories.

The Supernatural Element: Predictive Prophecy as an Obstacle to Skeptics

Central to the critique of Daniel is an anti-supernatural bias. If one presumes that God cannot reveal the future, then Daniel’s long-range prophecies must be illusions added ex post facto. But such a premise is never demonstrated; it is simply assumed. The presence of explicit predictions—like the transitions from Babylon to Medo-Persia to Greece to Rome, culminating in a final divine kingdom—conflicts with any worldview that excludes miracles. Yet from a biblical standpoint, there is “nothing impossible with God.” The entire structure of Scripture testifies that Jehovah repeatedly announces future events, from the downfall of specific nations to the coming of Messiah. Daniel is consistent with that broader pattern.

Daniel’s detailed visions in chapter 11 of the interplay between the Seleucid and Ptolemaic monarchies are sometimes singled out as too precise to be genuine prophecy. But again, if one grants the possibility of supernatural revelation, Daniel 11 fits a straightforward reading: a prophet from the sixth century B.C.E. foresees centuries of strife culminating in the crisis under Antiochus. Indeed, if Daniel’s genuine prophecy addresses the most severe threat to Judaism before the Roman era, it stands to reason that Daniel 8 and 11 would dwell on the Greek menace. Yet the text also leaps beyond Antiochus, blending into visions of a final eschatological persecutor who greatly exceeds the scope of second-century conditions.

Unity of the Book: Aramaic and Hebrew Intertwined

A recurring question is why Daniel transitions from Hebrew (Daniel 1) to Aramaic (Daniel 2–7) and then back to Hebrew (Daniel 8–12). Some claim this pattern betrays multiple authors or later insertions. But a simpler explanation sees Daniel adopting Aramaic for public material concerning Gentile powers, thus writing for a broader audience, and then using Hebrew when addressing matters specific to Israel’s destiny and spiritual concerns. Chapters 2–7 concern God’s sovereignty in Gentile kingdoms: Nebuchadnezzar’s dream image, the fiery furnace, Belshazzar’s fall, Darius’s decree. These events are relevant to the entire Babylonian populace, so Aramaic was suitable. Chapters 8–12 tackle visions of crucial import for Jewish faith, especially regarding the temple, the Messiah, and final deliverance. Hebrew would be the natural choice for Israel’s unique covenant heritage.

No second-century redactor can easily explain such a perfect distribution of languages along topical lines. Contrarily, a single hand—Daniel’s—organizes the content to reflect the scope of Jew and Gentile concerns. In fact, “codex-based” redaction theories face insurmountable difficulties explaining how Daniel’s Aramaic portion is thematically bracketed in a symmetrical structure.

Confronting the Problem of the Canonical Status

If Daniel were composed in 167 B.C.E., how did it swiftly achieve widespread acceptance as inspired Scripture among Jews? The Maccabean heroes were certainly revered, but acceptance of a new “sacred book” forging a fictional prophet from centuries earlier would be remarkable. The Hebrew Scriptures carry repeated warnings that false prophecy—prophecy that fails or is forged—is intolerable. Deuteronomy 18:22 explicitly stipulates that if a supposed prophet’s predictions do not come true, he is not from God. If the latter part of Daniel contains fake predictions about Antiochus’s death or conflates various details, the Jews who outlived Antiochus in 164 B.C.E. would quickly discover the discrepancy. The text of Daniel, however, continued to be honored and recited as Scripture.

Furthermore, the Qumran community held Daniel in high esteem, producing commentaries on Daniel among their earliest extant manuscripts. This strongly implies Daniel’s established canonicity long before the second century B.C.E. had concluded. The forging of a text in 167 B.C.E. that then soared to canonical authority within a few decades defies historical plausibility, especially under the watchful eyes of devout scribes who were zealous to repel forgeries.

Daniel’s Accuracy and the Absence of Defensive Revisions

An astonishing detail emerges in how the text of Daniel was transmitted. If Daniel had been composed around 167 B.C.E. to encourage the Jews, we might expect it to exhibit expansions or clarifications reflecting the success of the Maccabean revolt by 164 B.C.E. or to correct any “missed prophecies.” The final product might well have been revised or polished once Antiochus was defeated. But no such expansions are present. Instead, Daniel stands as a single, cohesive work, unwavering in its predictions, silent about how Antiochus died, or how the Jewish revolt concluded. The simplest explanation is that Daniel indeed wrote these prophecies in the sixth century B.C.E. under divine inspiration, leaving them sealed for later generations. When events in the Greek period took shape, the faithful recognized that Daniel had foreseen Antiochus’s persecution—and that certain final aspects awaited an ultimate fulfillment.

This phenomenon of partial fulfillment demonstrates how biblical prophecies often contain layers of immediate and eschatological reference. Antiochus IV partly foreshadows a future “man of sin,” aligning with Jesus’s words that the “abomination of desolation” has yet a future expression. Only a prophet writing under divine direction centuries before the Greek era could foretell the broad panorama of world dominion from Babylon down to the final kingdom of God.

Summary of the Defensive Position

Daniel’s authenticity rests upon accumulated lines of reasoning, rather than one isolated datum. We see that Belshazzar’s co-regency confirms Daniel’s close knowledge of Babylon’s court structure. The recognition that “Darius the Mede” likely served as a viceroy for Cyrus invalidates the notion that Daniel conflated historical facts. The text’s Aramaic is best explained by a Persian-era official writing in “Imperial Aramaic,” not by a second-century Judean aspiring to pass off an older narrative. The predicted sequence of four empires culminating in Rome strongly rebuts a Maccabean date. The prophecy of the Seventy Weeks situates the Messiah’s coming well beyond the early second century B.C.E. The abrupt shift from Antiochus to end-time events in Daniel 11–12 proves Daniel’s horizon extends beyond immediate crises. Archaeological findings continually undermine the critics’ alleged “inaccuracies,” making it increasingly evident that Daniel belongs in the sixth century B.C.E.

Opponents who persist in postdating Daniel essentially reveal their presupposition that prophecy is impossible. This stance, however, cannot align with biblical theism or with the teachings of Christ, who endorsed Daniel as a true prophet. The alternative is to see in Daniel a magnificent demonstration of God’s sovereign control over the flow of history. Without that vantage point, attempts to dissect Daniel into spurious fragments result in interpretive chaos.

Concluding Reflections on Daniel’s Enduring Strength

In answer to the question, “How can the Book of Daniel withstand every modern critical attack?” the evidence is overwhelming. The thorough harmony between Daniel’s statements and extrabiblical Babylonian records cannot be dismissed as mere coincidence or cunning trickery by a hypothetical second-century “pious forger.” The language, historical references, and theological scope surpass any scenario that confines Daniel to the Maccabean era. Jesus Christ’s explicit words affirm Daniel’s prophetic authority. The testimony of Jewish tradition supports an early acceptance of Daniel as inspired Scripture. The predictive sweep of Daniel extends from Babylonian times through Medo-Persia, Greece, and the Roman domain, and then into an eschatological future culminating in an eternal kingdom. Only a supernatural revelation bestowed upon a sixth-century man in Babylon can adequately explain the consistent internal and external evidence.

Far from being battered by criticism, the Book of Daniel emerges stronger each time a claim against it falls. Whether it be the Belshazzar puzzle, the Aramaic dialect, the identity of Darius the Mede, or the presence of Persian (not Greek) state terminology, discoveries inevitably confirm that Daniel’s worldview and authorship context align with the era of the Babylonian and early Persian periods. Critical attempts to reduce Daniel to a second-century forgery unravel under fresh archaeological data and under the logical incoherence of the Maccabean redaction theory.

For believers, Daniel is far more than a historical or linguistic curiosity. It testifies to Jehovah’s power to guide nations according to His own purposes and to reveal future epochs so that His people might take courage. Daniel’s message resonates with the rest of Scripture, echoing the basic premise that God can and does speak accurately about events yet to come. The tireless efforts to discredit the book ultimately spring from a deeper refusal to bow before the God who rules history, the God who both judges and saves. But the continuing vindication of Daniel stands as a living reminder that all His words shall stand. In Daniel’s own day, faithless skeptics abounded—like those who refused to heed Jeremiah or to accept that seventy years of captivity lay ahead. Yet God’s Word came to pass. So too, in our age, no critical clamor can undo the abiding truth that Daniel remains an authentic voice of Scripture, bearing a message of hope and ultimate victory for those who place their confidence in the Most High.

You May Also Enjoy

THE BOOK OF DANIEL ON TRIAL

About the Author

Online Guided Bible Study Courses

SCROLL THROUGH THE DIFFERENT CATEGORIES BELOW

BIBLE TRANSLATION AND TEXTUAL CRITICISM

BIBLICAL STUDIES / BIBLE BACKGROUND / HISTORY OF THE BIBLE/ INTERPRETATION

EARLY CHRISTIANITY

HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY

CHRISTIAN APOLOGETIC EVANGELISM

TECHNOLOGY AND THE CHRISTIAN

CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY

CHRISTIAN DEVOTIONALS

CHRISTIAN FICTION