Ramadan can be an opportunity for Muslims to reaffirm their faith in God and in each other, but if it is to thrive in the face of globalization, it may need to be reinterpreted to fit a modern world.
Although I am not a Muslim, I have observed and participated in Ramadan for the last two years after volunteering in Senegal in 2012. During one month, believers fast from dawn until sunset, refraining from taking anything into their bodies, be it food or water, or having sexual relations. Additionally, observers abstain from smoking or other vices, and some take it one step further and avoid swearing, dancing, or music.
The purpose of this abstention is to bring one’s focus to God and to appreciate the many parts of life we take for granted. Many reconnect with their faith during this month, and learn to value their self discipline. This month also sees a great spirit of giving and empathy, as the entire Senegal nation (or at least, the 95 per cent who are Muslim) fasts together.
Such rigid observance is very communal in a monoculture like Senegal, because almost everyone is fasting, and the day’s pace and timing reflect this. There’s a certain electricity in the air when you rise at 4:30 a.m. to hear the call to prayer and eat your last meal before dawn, and spending the day forgetting your hunger makes laughter with friends all the more important. In the evening, the whole city is abuzz with families shopping together to assemble bread and spreads for the breaking of the fast. When the day is finally done and bellies are full, everyone feels a sense of pride and companionship in having endured the fast together.
For this year, however, I was back in Vancouver, where our culture is much more secular and where Muslims are a distinct minority. With friends constantly planning outings at restaurants or after-dinner events, Ramadan suddenly became extremely isolating instead of a unifying force.
One can assume this is a challenge Muslims in many countries face. Take a look at the Summer Olympics, for instance; in 2012, the games took place during Ramadan from July 27 to Aug 12. This means that observing Muslim athletes were fasting — meaning not drinking water — during the competition, inhibiting them from performing to their best ability.
This makes me think about how other religions have reinterpreted their ancient texts to better fit a modern world. Consider the Jewish and Islamic prohibition on pork. A modern explanation for this archaic practice that many give is that, without refrigeration, pigs’ meat would go bad faster than other meats. This prohibition no longer factors into the 21st century, and only remains for religion’s sake (although many religious persons no longer feel that eating “kosher” or “halal” decides whether one can or cannot be called a Jew or a Muslim).
There are many important lessons in the Bible and the Qu’ran that can help one live a better life, yet these books were written hundreds of years ago, and we now have a greater understanding of how the world works. Interpretation to religious beliefs accrues with culture, a veneer that many have stripped back; an eye for an eye becomes metaphor, the burka, a cultural interpretation, four wives, an option, not an injunction.
Ramadan is but one of many Islamic traditions that have lasted since the 7th century, but our modern world makes interpreting these traditions literally quite challenging. If Ramadan remains obligatory, does it become archaic? Or is it adaptable to our modern world?
The rigidity of Ramadan makes its observance difficult, especially for those who are not surrounded by a support system or who do not live in a country that accommodates its challenges. However, that change is not going to come from the system; for Ramadan, as well as other religious traditions, to transition into the 21st century and continue to unite observers in their love for God and community, they must open themselves up to interpretation and adaptation.
