Manichaeism presents itself as a rigorously dualistic vision of reality, in which two co‑eternal and opposed principles—Light and Darkness—stand in unending conflict. The material cosmos is understood as the tragic mingling of these realms, with particles of Light imprisoned in matter and in need of liberation. This sharply contrasts with the dominant currents of Christianity and Islam, where a single, sovereign God creates both the spiritual and material worlds and where evil is not an independent power but a distortion or misuse of created goodness. Zoroastrianism does share with Manichaeism a cosmic struggle between good and evil, yet it affirms the ultimate supremacy and final victory of Ahura Mazda, and it regards the created world as fundamentally good though temporarily assailed. In Manichaean thought, by contrast, the material order is not simply wounded or fallen; it is bound up with Darkness itself and destined to be abandoned rather than renewed.

Because of this cosmology, Manichaean spirituality tends toward a strong world‑renouncing asceticism. The human body is treated as a prison for divine Light, and salvation is imagined as escape from matter through knowledge, strict discipline, and the example of an ascetic elite. Christianity and Islam, while they certainly know ascetic strands, ultimately affirm the goodness of the body and anticipate a bodily resurrection; they do not regard matter as intrinsically evil or as something to be discarded. Zoroastrian practice, for its part, emphasizes ritual purity, care for the elements, and the protection of creation, reflecting confidence that the material world can be purified and restored rather than rejected. Thus, where the other traditions seek the transformation or healing of creation, Manichaeism seeks the disentangling and final separation of Light from the material realm.

Mani also situated his message within a broad prophetic lineage, presenting his teaching as the culminating revelation after figures such as Buddha, Zoroaster, and Jesus. This universalist, prophetic self‑understanding resonates in a limited way with Christianity and Islam, which likewise see themselves as bearers of definitive revelation, yet neither tradition recognizes Mani as a true prophet or accepts a revelation that supersedes its own. Zoroastrianism, centered on the authority of Zoroaster and its own sacred texts, does not adopt Mani’s claim to complete and final disclosure of truth. In this sense, Manichaeism both mirrors and contests its religious neighbors: it borrows their symbols and narratives of light, prophecy, and salvation, yet reorders them within a far more radical dualism, one in which the destiny of the soul is not the renewal of a beloved world but the longed‑for release from it.