On the First Day of Ramadan

The Holy Month of Ramadan started today.

Writing about Ramadan in the Middle East is rather like writing about Christmas in the West. A subject with so many facets that it’s the equivalent of writing an article about the meaning of life.

But if you’ve never been in a Muslim country, and you know little more than that Ramadan involves fasting from dawn to dusk, there’s much more to discover. Why bother? Because understanding Ramadan takes you a long way towards understanding Islam and the traditions of the Muslim world. Far further than stories of the Taliban murdering a team of Western medics, or the sight of women in the street dressed in black from head to toe.

So this is a personal view of a non-Muslim who has lived through many Ramadans among Muslims celebrating their holy month.

Let’s start by looking at the Christmas analogy. It’s true that both seasons involve goodwill, charity, family gatherings, feasting and present-giving. But there the similarity ends. Christmas in the West is a one-day festival with an indeterminate (and some say interminable) lead in. It’s marked by indulgence, excessive eating, drinking and partying. It involves no personal sacrifice, except on the part of mothers and fathers who go into serious debt in their attempt to give their children a “good Christmas”. Only a small proportion of those who consider themselves Christians perform an act of worship on Christmas Day, or any other day for that matter.

Observing Ramadan, on the other hand, is an obligation on all Muslims. Fasting is one of the Five Pillars of Islam (the others are daily prayers, the declaration of faith, the giving of alms and the pilgrimage to Mecca). It involves serious personal endurance.

Consider the implications of fasting from dawn to dusk for 30 days. No food, no, drink, no smoking, no brushing of teeth. In short, nothing to enter the mouth or any other part of the body. And the vast majority of the hundreds of millions of Muslims around the world, rich and poor, do this every year. For example, as I sit in an air-conditioned room writing this, I can see manual laborers in the street working away in 40 degrees of heat with no food or drink to sustain them.

There are, of course, exemptions derived from the Quran and religious tradition. Pregnant women, children, and the sick do not have to fast. Nor under certain circumstances, do travelers, although they have to fast at other times to complete the obligation. There are also rules which apply to people living in areas where the summer sun doesn’t fully set, such as Finland, Alaska and Antarctica. Fasting for 23 hours a day simply isn’t practical, and contrary to some perceptions in the West, Islam is a practical religion.

Such is the power of the obligation that in many parts of the world, including where I live, it is enshrined in the law. Nobody, Muslim or non-Muslim, is permitted to drink, smoke or eat in public during fasting hours. The penalties for breaking the law can range from admonition to jail.

So this is no festive season with a bit of religion thrown in. Nor is it the equivalent of giving up chocolate for Lent. It’s a drastic, annual, change of behavior by a significant percentage of the world’s population. For many Christians, their religion is a way of living, and the teachings of Jesus inform, without enforcing, social norms, morals and behavior in the West. But Islam is a way of life, and Ramadan exemplifies that life. Obligation. No compromise, right and wrong, adherence both to form and substance.

Yet beneath the seeming harshness of the obligation lies the meaning of Ramadan for Muslims. A time of contemplation, of spiritual cleansing, of consideration for others, of self-discipline, of shared experience. It’s a positive time which leaves participants with a real sense of achievement and wellbeing.

Of course not everyone enters into the spirit even if they adhere to the form. Just as in the West the inevitable reaction of horror follows the appearance of Christmas advertising many months before the season begins, many Muslims complain of the creeping commercialization of Ramadan. Just as we do, many Muslims max out their credit cards during the season and spend the aftermath worrying about how they will make ends meet. And many overindulge during the night time hours, with some actually gaining weight over the month.

Some also mitigate the fasting hours by sleeping. Visit the more traditional offices in parts of the Gulf during Ramadan, and it’s not uncommon to see sleeping bodies littering prayer areas, offices and communal areas. But even among the weak-willed, there’s no mistaking the desire and intention to meet the obligation of their faith.

For non-Muslims living through Ramadan, only those who wrap themselves in their own bubble of reality can fail to be affected and often uplifted by the experience. I enjoy the month immensely. Social activities go on late into the night. Shops stay open until the early hours. There are special Ramadan foods, including the sweet, sticky variety which I adore. Above all, there’s a spirit of animation and excitement in the night time hours not to be felt at any other time of the year.

Daytimes are quiet. Working hours for those who are fasting are shorter. Meetings late in the afternoon are best avoided. Try as they might, even the most diligent start flagging. I remember one meeting with a very senior executive. At his request, it was at 5pm. As the meeting went on, I could see his eyes drooping as he fought to stay awake. Though there was a good chance that I would have bored him to sleep anyway, I learned my lesson.

For those experiencing the season for the first time, there can be memorable moments. When I first came to Jeddah in the 80’s, I woke up on the first morning of Ramadan to a loud explosion. When I crawled from my refuge under the bed and looked out of the window, I could see a field gun on a bit of waste ground outside my apartment, which was fired every morning at dawn to remind the faithful that the hours of fasting had begun. Then there’s the craziness on the roads as people rush to get home or the mosque at dusk for prayers and the breaking of the fast. And for half an hour following nightfall, the experience of driving on deserted roads normally packed with crawling rush-hour traffic.

For non-Muslims Ramadan is a chance to listen, observe, understand and enjoy. It’s unforgettable.

For my Muslim friends everywhere, Ramadan Kareem!