PART 2.
4) “The People of the Prince Who Is to Come” — Daniel 9:26
Now we reach the controversial phrase:
“the people of the prince who is to come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary…” (v.26)
This is the only other place in Daniel 9 where the Hebrew title nagiyd appears besides verse 25. But now “Messiah” is absent. That combination matters. It signals that this figure is neither the generic “princes” of Daniel’s prayer (v.6, v.8) nor the titled “Messiah the Prince” of verse 25.
He is a distinct nagiyd—a coming ruler connected to the people who bring destruction. And here is the key nuance: God could have used a common, generic word for ruler here, as Daniel did earlier in his prayer. But He does not. He uses the elevated, purpose-weighted term nagiyd again—without granting the identifying title “Messiah.”
The effect is deliberate. It marks this “prince” as more than a mere military administrator, yet also exposes him as something other than the true Anointed One. He is presented as a counterfeit-prince — a figure who will rise clothed in sacred authority, imitating the posture of divine leadership while lacking the divine identity that belongs to Christ alone. By assigning him the elevated title nagiyd without pairing it with “Messiah,” the text subtly signals that this ruler will not merely govern politically, but will assume a role that encroaches upon divine prerogative. He will not deny God outright; he will claim to represent Him. He will not reject sacred authority; he will assert that he embodies it.
In this way, the wording anticipates a ruler who positions himself as the visible head of God’s people on earth — speaking in God’s name, defining doctrine, mediating forgiveness, and exercising authority over conscience as though heaven itself had vested him with Christ’s office. The absence of the title “Messiah” is therefore not accidental. It is protective. God withholds the true Anointed designation while still using the royal term nagiyd to expose the dangerous resemblance. This prince will present himself as Christ’s earthly stand-in — even as he rises in opposition to the true Prince of princes. The text does not call him Messiah because he is not the Anointed One — but it calls him nagiyd because he will claim a place that looks strikingly similar.
Historically, many identify this with Titus and the Roman forces who destroyed Jerusalem and the Temple in 70 AD. As a surface-level fulfillment, the fit is strong: Rome is the destroying “people,” and Titus stands as the associated ruler. Daniel does show that God uses foreign powers as instruments of judgment—Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, and others—so the idea of Rome serving this role is not foreign to Daniel’s pattern. But the verse is phrased carefully. It does not say the prince destroys the city; it says his people do. The destruction is attributed first to the people, and the prince is described as “to come.” That wording allows the prince to be tied to the Roman world and its legacy without requiring him to be the field commander in the moment of destruction. It can point to a ruler who emerges from that same people after the devastation—a later authority arising from the aftermath.
This opens the door to a deeper prophetic layer that aligns with Daniel’s visions. Rome’s people destroy the city and the sanctuary, and out of the Roman world—after Jerusalem’s fall and after pagan Rome’s eventual collapse—another power rises. In Daniel’s language elsewhere, this is the trajectory of the little horn: a deceptive, blasphemous force that emerges from the Roman sphere, takes on a religious-political identity, and stands in opposition to the true Prince of princes (Daniel 8:25). In that reading, Daniel’s post-cross arc unfolds in three movements:
Rome’s people destroy the city and the sanctuary (the historical devastation).The prince who is to come rises later from among them—the little horn emerging from Rome’s legacy.He rules over that legacy—not mainly by military conquest, but by spiritual authority, claiming Christ’s place while opposing Christ’s truth.
So the language of Daniel 9:25–26 is not incidental. Names and titles appear in restoration; they withdraw in judgment. The Messiah is introduced as Prince; He is cut off as sacrifice. And then another nagiyd appears—untitled, ambiguous, “to come”—linked to the destroying people and pointing forward to the long arc of counterfeit power Daniel had unveiled in chapters 7 and 8.
In this way, the text itself guides the reader. It does not require us to begin with speculation. It invites us to watch what Heaven emphasizes, what Heaven withholds, and how the prophecy’s own structure distinguishes the Messiah from the prince who follows—so we can identify “the prince who is to come,” and understand just who “his people” are, in both the historical and prophetic layers Daniel is presenting.
I have a disdain for commentaries. I don't know of a one that doesn't have false premises. A person should be satisfied with the bible as our truth. It will never lead you astray, though we sometimes lead ourselves astray.