Catholic Commentary
Judgment Falls: The Beasts Are Stripped of Dominion
11“I watched at that time because of the voice of the arrogant words which the horn spoke. I watched even until the animal was slain, and its body destroyed, and it was given to be burned with fire.12As for the rest of the animals, their dominion was taken away; yet their lives were prolonged for a season and a time.
Daniel 7:11–12 describes the divine judgment of the fourth beast and the contrasting fate of the three preceding beasts. The fourth beast is completely destroyed because of its blasphemous speech against God, while the other beasts lose their dominion but are permitted to continue existing for a limited time at God's discretion.
The beast's loud blasphemy is not a sign of its power but a death warrant — God's judgment falls precisely on the mouth that boasts against Him.
The typological reading extends to the Church's situation in history. The "beasts" as a type of worldly powers hostile to God's people will persist "for a season and a time" — bounded but real. The Church does not exist in a world already fully redeemed; she lives in the tension between the inauguration of the Kingdom (at the Resurrection) and its consummation (at the Parousia). Verse 12 encodes this tension: the powers are already defeated in principle, yet not yet fully eliminated in fact.
Catholic tradition brings a distinctive layered reading to these verses. First, the eschatological dimension: following St. Jerome, St. Hippolytus of Rome (On Christ and Antichrist, §§25–26), and the consensus of the Fathers, the fourth beast's destruction is understood not merely as a historical event (the fall of a particular empire) but as a type of the final overthrow of the power of evil at the end of history. The Catechism (§675) speaks of a "supreme religious deception" before Christ's return — "a pseudo-messianism by which man glorifies himself in place of God and of his Messiah" — and the blasphemous horn is a privileged biblical type of this reality.
Second, the sovereignty of God over history: the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church (§§383–384) affirms that no political authority is absolute; all human power is delegated, conditional, and accountable before God. Daniel 7:11–12 dramatizes this truth: even the most terrifying beast — the one that seemed unstoppable — burns at the word of the Ancient of Days. Pope Pius XI's Mit Brennender Sorge (1937), written against totalitarianism, drew implicitly on this prophetic tradition in insisting that the State cannot usurp the place of God.
Third, fire as divine judgment: The Catechism (§1034–1035) teaches on Gehenna — final, irrevocable exclusion from God for those who refuse conversion. The burning of the beast's body is a vivid Old Testament figure for this definitive divine verdict, affirming that history will not simply "run out" but will be judged. The Church's liturgy reflects this in the Dies Irae and the eschatological passages of Advent, keeping the fire of divine judgment before the faithful as a spur to conversion and fidelity.
Contemporary Catholics live in a media environment saturated with voices that, like the little horn, speak "great words" — ideologies and powers that mock the things of God, that demean human dignity, that claim a totality of allegiance belonging only to God. Verse 11 offers a counter-discipline: watch not with anxiety but with the clear-eyed faith of Daniel, who observed even the most terrifying blasphemy without losing sight of the tribunal above it. The beast's loudness was not a sign of its permanence but, in fact, the precise marker of its doom.
For the practicing Catholic, verse 12 is a realistic but hope-anchored word about patience. The hostile powers of this age will not be immediately dissolved — they persist "for a season and a time." This is not defeatism; it is prophetic realism. The appropriate response is not withdrawal from public life, but the sustained, sober witness of one who knows that dominion has already been transferred — that the Son of Man has already received the Kingdom (7:13–14) — and who therefore acts with the freedom of someone not ultimately afraid of what the beasts can do.
Commentary
Daniel 7:11 — The Slaying of the Fourth Beast
Daniel's gaze is arrested — "I watched" (Aramaic: ḥāzēh hăwêṯ) — by the very thing that had scandalized him most: "the voice of the great words which the horn spoke." The little horn of the fourth beast (introduced in 7:8) is defined above all by its mouth — arrogant, blasphemous speech directed against God and His holy ones (cf. 7:25). It is precisely because of this speech that Daniel cannot look away. This detail is narratively deliberate: the horn's boasting is not incidental noise but the proximate cause of its doom. The Ancient of Days does not overlook hubris.
The judgment itself is swift and absolute. Unlike the other beasts whose dominion was merely curtailed, this fourth beast is slain (qeṭîlaṯ), its body destroyed (ḥabbelet), and handed over to the burning fire. The triple intensification — slain, destroyed, burned — mirrors the totality of divine judgment. There is no remnant, no lingering power, no exile. This is annihilation. The burning recalls the theophanic fire of God's presence (cf. Ex 3:2; Deut 4:24 — "our God is a consuming fire"), now functioning as an instrument of final justice rather than revelation.
Patristically, St. Jerome in his Commentary on Daniel identifies the fourth beast with Rome, and the little horn with a specific future figure of consummate evil — understood in Catholic tradition as a type and foreshadowing of the Antichrist (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, §675). The blasphemous speech is thus a defining characteristic of the eschatological adversary: not merely political tyranny but theological rebellion, a direct assault on the honor of God.
Daniel 7:12 — The Qualified Survival of the Other Beasts
The contrast between the fourth beast and "the rest of the animals" is carefully constructed. The first three beasts (Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece in the traditional Catholic reading following Jerome and many subsequent Fathers) are not executed — their dominion (šolṭānāh) is taken away, but their lives (ḥayyayhôn) are extended "for a season and a time" (ʿad-zĕman wĕʿiddān). This enigmatic phrase — deliberately imprecise — communicates that their continued existence is entirely at God's discretion, bounded, numbered, contingent.
This distinction rewards theological reflection. The other empires were instruments of God's providential plan for Israel — chastisement, purification, preservation — however unwitting. Babylon carried Israel into exile, but also produced a Cyrus who would authorize the return (Ezra 1:1–4). Such empires, however fallen, participated in a larger economy. The fourth beast, by contrast, commits something categorically different: it wages active war against the holy ones and presumes to "change times and law" (7:25), attacking the very ordering of sacred reality. Its destruction is therefore not merely political but eschatological — a different order of judgment entirely.