Who on Earth Is Gog? (And What Is He So Mad About?)
Ezekiel 38 and 39 introduce a mysterious figure named Gog from the land of Magog. He appears suddenly, with no backstory, leading a vast coalition of nations in an attack against Israel. The tone shifts here dramatically. After the hopeful imagery of dry bones coming to life and divided kingdoms being united in chapter 37, this part of the text takes on the mood of an epic battle narrative.
Gog: History’s Most Persistent Enigma
What are we supposed to make of Gog?
There have been countless attempts to pin down his identity—some historical, others speculative. Over the centuries, Gog has been linked to everyone from ancient kings to modern political figures. The names and nations listed alongside him (like Persia, Cush, and Put) add to the geopolitical flavor of the vision, but it's unclear whether we're meant to see this as an actual future war or something more symbolic.
One thing that stands out is the dramatic scale of the conflict. Gog brings "a vast and mighty army, all fully armed" (Ezekiel 38:15, NLT). The text describes God luring him into battle, only to decisively defeat him through a series of overwhelming events: earthquakes, confusion, plagues, hailstones, fire. It's a total unraveling of Gog's power.
Apocalypse Now (or Then... or Never?)
This kind of apocalyptic writing can be difficult to relate to. The hyperbole and violence are jarring. But it also feels like a kind of storytelling that tries to grapple with evil in a large-scale way. It's not about a single bad actor, but about a system of aggression and domination that seems unstoppable—until it's not.
I find myself wondering: Was this written for people who felt powerless? People who needed to imagine the fall of an enemy they couldn't confront directly? There's something cathartic about seeing chaos turned back on itself, especially when the usual channels of justice are absent.
After the Dust Settles
And yet, there are also layers of discomfort here. The defeated armies are buried for seven months (Ezekiel 39:12, NLT). Weapons are burned for fuel. It reads like an attempt to cleanse the land of violence, but it also lingers on the aftermath in a way that's hard to ignore.
So much about Gog remains uncertain. Maybe Gog is less a person than an embodiment of looming threat. The kind that takes different shapes in different times. It's tempting to try and decode the symbols, to match them to headlines or historical figures, but maybe the ambiguity is part of what gives the passage its weight. The text presents a vision full of tension, one that raises questions about power, fear, and the desire for justice.