Mani emerged around 216 CE in the bustling city of Ctesiphon, heart of the Sassanid Empire. Born into a family tied to Jewish-Christian sects, exposure to diverse beliefs planted the seeds for something new. At a young age—accounts vary between twelve and twenty-four—he experienced a vision that set him apart: claiming to be the “Seal of the Prophets,” the final messenger following in the footsteps of Zoroaster, Buddha and Jesus.

Armed with both charismatic zeal and a keen intellect, Mani wove together Gnostic ideas about secret knowledge, Zoroastrian dualism of light versus darkness, and Christian moral ideals. Commissioned by Emperor Shapur I, he composed the Shabuhragan in Middle Persian, laying out his grand cosmology: an eternal battle between realms of light and realms of darkness, with human souls caught in between like sparrows trapped in a storm. Wherever he roamed—Persian towns, Mesopotamian bazaars, even the fringes of India—Mani carried the torch of his new faith, sparking curiosity and raising eyebrows among established clergy.

Persecution under Shapur’s successor, Bahram I, led to Mani’s imprisonment and eventual execution around 274 CE. Yet his movement refused to die. Manichaeism rode the Silk Road into Central Asia, China and North Africa, competing with early Christianity and Buddhism for centuries. Its scriptures were translated into Syriac, Coptic, Chinese and more—no small feat before the age of Google Translate.

Modern fascination with dualistic worldviews has kept Mani’s legacy alive. A 2024 dig near Turpan uncovered fresh Manichaean manuscripts, reminding scholars how global and interconnected belief systems truly were long before social media. These fragments prove that Mani wasn’t just a prophet in his own time—he was the original influencer of interfaith dialogue, casting a long shadow over spiritual history.