At its core, Ramadan is supposed to be about minimalism, self-restraint, and growing empathy for those less privileged than us.
As time passes, traditions and festivals have understandably evolved. As technology advances and our beliefs grow, how to approach practices will change and probably should in some ways.
However, it is striking how far our observance of the holy month has come from its roots.
Ramadan rejects imperialist ideas
If you think about it, Ramadan challenges imperialism and capitalism. Both have been forces that shape societies by putting an unhealthy amount of priority on material wealth, power, and exploitation.
Capitalism thrives on the idea of maximum profit and wealth accumulation. Community welfare is conveniently put on the backseat for individual gain. It commodifies resources, labour, and even human relationships, creating disparities in wealth and access to necessities.
Imperialism is an extension of capitalist expansion. One party or nation, generally now the superpowers, dominates all others through economic, political, and cultural means. Marginalized communities are exploited, resources are appropriated, and such governance is imposed that benefits the dominant power.
Let’s look at Gaza for an example. Israeli aggression and occupation in Palestine’s capital is nothing short of imperialism and particularly ethnic cleansing. Yet, even in the face of adversity, Gazans can be seen breaking their fast during Iftar and praying Taraweeh in the middle of the ruins.
This resolute behaviour is a direct refusal to have their identity, culture, and religion erased. In an imperial society, where external powers seek to dominate and suppress, continuing to fast and pray becomes an act of defiance. Imperialist forces often aim to break the spirit of a people but Gazans show how Ramadan brings us closer to our beliefs.
Capitalistic norms promote inequality and exploiting the vulnerable, all while making us believe that competition is the way of life, not collaboration. And there’s an inherent focus on materials, consumerism, and control.
What is supposed to be a month of reflection and strengthening our relationship with Allah becomes about working too hard to earn money, dipping into savings, or sometimes taking loans, all to uphold expectations that prioritize appearances
In an increasingly consumer-driven global economy, the act of self-restraint, one of Ramadan’s primary values, subverts capitalist behaviours that promote constant consumption, rejecting hyper consumerism and gluttony.
Moreover, Ramadan challenges the norm of dominating others by creating solidarity. It promotes the idea that no one is superior to another, as all individuals -- regardless of status -- are subject to the same rules of fasting, prayer, and self-restraint.
This spiritual equality stands in direct contrast to the hierarchical structures of power and control.
While Ramadan’s values challenge today’s exploitative and unequal systems, are Muslims doing a good job upholding them?
Fasting yet wasting
The sanctity of the holy month has been tainted by significant overconsumption and food waste. Not only is it economically and environmentally harmful, it directly contradicts the very essence of Ramadan.
In the UAE, waste generation doubles from 2.7kg to 5.4kg per day, per capita. There’s an increased demand for meat during iftar and sehri.
While in Bahrain, each household reportedly throws away food worth between 150 Bahrain Dinar to 250 annually. Approximately, 25% of food purchased during Ramadan is discarded.
The situation is similar in Algeria, out of 10 million quintals of vegetables bought during Ramadan, 500,000 are estimated to be wasted. Additionally, 120 million out of 4.1 billion baguettes and 12 million litres of milk are discarded.
The food industry in Bangladesh has also seized the opportunity to profit from the month. Lavish iftar spreads and even “magical” sehri nights have become the norm.
Even if Ramadan is a month when we are supposed to resist our temptation, wanting to go out with family and friends for iftar now and then is natural.
The issue lies in the fact that many restaurants in Dhaka charge prices that are out of reach for the average family.
While wealthier families can indulge or “overindulge” in such luxuries, middle and lower-income households feel pressured to match the extravagant meals they see advertised.
The idea that one should strive to consume as much as possible goes completely against the spirit of self-restraint that we are supposed to practice in Ramadan
Businesses know exactly how to leverage our insecurities and shortcomings to attract customers.
Iftar challenges like eating unlimited pizza slices or consuming vast amounts of food in a short time frame are often advertised as fun, social activities that bring people together. If you don’t participate in it, you will miss out big time.
Overeating in such challenges is another form of food waste and not only does it violate principles of moderation, it directly stands as a contradiction to what Ramadan is supposed to be.
This wastefulness is especially troubling in a country like Bangladesh, where millions of people still struggle with food insecurity.
The culture of “food challenges” and “eat as much as you can” is especially inappropriate during a month which is supposed to be about controlling our temptations yet they become the most popular during Ramadan.
The amount of food being discarded during Ramadan -- often due to over-ordering or overindulging -- contradicts the values of charity that should define the month.
The desire to constantly be out and go to restaurants even when it is burning a hole in your pocket is often fueled by social media. Influencers or bloggers are constantly talking about offers, sales, and promotions with images of extravagant iftar spreads that are usually nothing like reality.
For many young people, constantly going out and giving Instagram stories of fancy iftar has become a form of social currency, where the more they eat, the more “successful” and “cool” they appear in the eyes of their peers.
The idea that one should strive to consume as much as possible goes completely against the spirit of self-restraint that we are supposed to practice in Ramadan.
Commercial hijacking of Ramadan’s spirit
The food industry is not the only issue. Getting new clothes for Eid has always been a delightful part of the festival. However, given the market’s current conditions, it has increasingly turned into a financial burden for many, particularly for middle-class and lower-income families.
The fashion industry, both globally and locally, has recognized the commercial potential of Ramadan and Eid, and prices for clothes have skyrocketed over the years.
In Dhaka and other parts of Bangladesh, even local "deshi" brands -- which should be affordable alternatives to international brands -- are charging crazy prices for their Eid collections.
What was once an exciting shopping experience has now become super stressful as families struggle to keep up with rising costs in a market driven by consumerism.
Let’s not forget the expectation of buying new clothes for the entire family as well as feeling the need to gift clothes to their extended family members even when doing so can stretch their budgets thin.
We've fallen into a disgusting cycle of overconsumption and commercialization, where Ramadan and Eid have become a competition of who can indulge in the most luxury
What is supposed to be a month of reflection and strengthening our relationship with Allah becomes about working too hard to earn money, dipping into savings, or sometimes taking loans, all to uphold expectations that prioritize appearances.
For lower-income families, the situation is even more dire, as they often struggle to meet basic needs, let alone buy new clothes for every member of the family. This cycle of overconsumption, driven by societal pressure, leaves many struggling long after the festivities end.
The commercialization of Ramadan isn't just harming the middle and lower classes; it's worsening economic inequality during a sacred time. Some media outlets are capitalizing on this trend by relentlessly interviewing shoppers about their budgets, publicly embarrassing struggling families in the process.
The affluent segment of society can still afford to participate in the extravagant shopping that now characterizes the pre-Eid period, but for the majority, it has become a period of financial anxiety.
The capitalist approach to Ramadan is evident in how brands push marketing campaigns that create a sense of urgency and competition.
Flash sales, Eid "specials," and aggressive advertising convince consumers that they need to buy more than they actually do, despite the month being about restraint and reflection.
These campaigns are so effective that even those who cannot afford to participate feel pressured to keep up with the cultural norms of purchasing new clothes and lavish meals.
The cost of these garments is no longer justifiable as well, with the zeros on the right increasing in the price tag, despite the quality not always matching the price.
Iftar parties and shopping with loved ones will and should always be cherished parts of Ramadan, but sadly, they no longer carry the same simplicity and joy.
Instead, we've fallen into a disgusting cycle of overconsumption and commercialization, where Ramadan and Eid have become a competition of who can indulge in the most luxury.
Sk Mustarin Muskan Mortuza is a sub-editor at Dhaka Tribune.