Recently, in the northern Indian state of Uttarakhand, extremists disrupted an iftar gathering organised by Muslim students at a college in Haridwar.
Following the incident, the college principal banned Muslim students from bringing food during iftar or sharing it with others. In a similar vein, at a university in Meerut, police filed an FIR against a student for offering namaz (prayer) on campus.
There was a time—especially in the national capital, Delhi—when organising Iftar parties during the month of Ramadan was seen as a mark of prestige.
Political leaders, parties, social organisations, embassies and even government institutions would host these events, using them as an opportunity for outreach and building networks.
During Ramadan, at the time of breaking the fast, the sound of the azaan (call to prayer) would echo through the Rashtrapati Bhavan, the Prime Minister’s residence, and ministerial and political party offices. Muslim guests would offer prayers in the congregation. At times, ministers themselves would be seen rolling out prayer rugs.
However, since 2014, as Muslims have been rendered politically insignificant, the tradition of iftar gatherings in Delhi has all but vanished.
Leaders of the current ruling party, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) also used to host iftar parties at their residences. Former ministers Syed Shahnawaz Hussain and Vijay Goel were known for their well-organised iftar events. Goel even organised pre-dawn sehri meals in Old Delhi, creating a festive, all-night atmosphere.
The Congress Party’s iftar gatherings were always class apart, typically held at its headquarters at 24-Akbar Road.
Congress leaders from across the country would converge in Delhi to attend. In later years, the venue was shifted to the Ashoka Hotel. Sonia Gandhi, then party president, would personally receive people and visit every table to interact with her guests.
Until 2014, the arrival of Ramadan would signal an unending stream of iftar invitations from political and social institutions.
For journalists in search of scoops, members of the elite, political and religious leaders, and diplomats, iftar gatherings offered informal settings to gauge political undercurrents and establish connections with key figures.
Such was their importance that media houses would assign dedicated reporters to cover these events during the holy month.
At the Prime Minister’s residence or Rashtrapati Bhavan, it was common to witness candid, off-the-record conversations with senior government and judiciary officials.
In coalition-era governments, these events took on greater significance. Which alliance leader attended, what their body language revealed, and whether the government’s future appeared secure—all of this was closely analysed.
Affluent and influential individuals often used Ramadan as a strategic opportunity to express solidarity with Muslims—or more accurately, to showcase their secular credentials and consolidate their vote banks by hosting these gatherings.
When the iftar time finally arrived, the food trays were already empty, mocking the fasting attendees. People barely managed to break their fast with a sip of water.
I still recall the iftar hosted by the BJP at its Ashoka Road headquarters in 1998. Atal Bihari Vajpayee was not yet Prime Minister.
The sprawling lawns were covered with a canopy, and Vajpayee, along with a few other leaders wearing skull caps, personally greeted guests at the entrance. Although half an hour remained until iftar, tea, samosas and dates were already being served freely under the tent. People were snacking casually, oblivious to the approaching time of iftar.
At the time, Syed Shahnawaz Hussain—who would later become a Union Minister—was a youth leader in the BJP. He had been tasked with bringing select Muslims from neighbourhoods like Nizamuddin to the event. He was visibly frustrated with the caterers for setting out the snacks too early.
When the iftar time finally arrived, the food trays were already empty, mocking the fasting attendees. People barely managed to break their fast with a sip of water. Worse still, no arrangements had been made for the Maghrib prayer. The attending Muslims voiced their anger at Shahnawaz Hussain, who hastily had the back lawn cleared to accommodate the prayer.
As the attendees began their prayer, the caterers started distributing dinner packets. Instead of serving meals on trays, the BJP had arranged pre-packed dinners. By the time the congregants completed their prayers and returned, all the packets had been taken. The guests, still hungry and thirsty, left the premises expressing their displeasure with both Shahnawaz Hussain and the BJP.
After Vajpayee became Prime Minister, he moved the event to his official residence and hosted it till he was in power every year.
Since Narendra Modi took office as Prime Minister in 2014, the vibrant spirit of Ramadan has steadily diminished. Soon after his arrival in the capital, the tradition of Iftar parties came to a halt. Modi discouraged his ministers from attending such events, which led many social organisations to gradually withdraw from hosting them as well.
While one can debate the political utility of iftar gatherings, in a pluralistic society like India, they used to serve as a form of cultural outreach. Breaking fasts in a dignified and organised setting, offering communal prayers shoulder to shoulder, and creating an inclusive space for all—these occasions carried a deeper message of unity and coexistence.
That evening, I had my first face-to-face encounter with the late Mufti Mohammad Sayeed. Although I had heard him speak many times at public rallies in Sopore, we had never met in person.
Since I came from Kashmir, where iftar parties were never a tradition till late 90s, experiencing them in Delhi was something entirely new for me. In Kashmir, even during peaceful times, the moments leading up to iftar resembled a curfew. Markets would wear a deserted look, and people usually preferred to break their fasts quietly at home or at their local mosques.
There was no elaborate arrangement for iftar. People would perform their prayers soon after breaking their fast, followed by dinner. During the month of Ramadan, most social activities and interactions would come to a standstill.
It was in the early 1990s, during my student days, that I first attended an iftar party. It was hosted at the residence of Arif Mohammad Khan, the former Union Minister and current Governor. One of his close relatives, who was also a student, had extended the invitation and insisted I attend.
But this was not just an iftar party—it felt more like a lavish wedding reception. Political and social figures I had only seen on television or in newspapers were now seated in flesh and blood at various tables around the venue. The Prime Minister, several Union Ministers, and prominent Bollywood personalities were all present.
That evening, I had my first face-to-face encounter with the late Mufti Mohammad Sayeed. Although I had heard him speak many times at public rallies in Sopore, we had never met in person. He had only recently served as India’s Home Minister and was, understandably, surrounded by heavy protocol.
When my host introduced me to him, he placed his hand on my shoulder and expressed concern that young Kashmiri Muslims rarely pursued journalism or came to Delhi for their careers.
He reminded me that before me, only Sheikh Manzoor Ahmad of UNI and Mohammad Sayeed Malik, editor of the Sunday Observer, had managed to make a name for themselves in Delhi’s media circles. He also suggested that I should consider building my journalistic career in Delhi rather than returning to Kashmir and encouraged me to seek guidance from Manzoor Sahib and Sayeed Malik regularly.
It was then that Pakistani Ambassador Abdul Basit stepped forward and assumed the role of imam, leading the prayer. To everybody’s surprise, we learned that Basit had a melodious recitation.
Although Prime Minister Modi discontinued iftar receptions at his official residence upon taking office, President Pranab Mukherjee continued the tradition at Rashtrapati Bhavan, until the end of his term in 2017.
Ambassadors, opposition leaders, and other dignitaries would attend. However, Modi never participated, choosing instead to ignore protocol. Typically, a minister would be sent as the government’s representative, who would greet the President upon his arrival and leave immediately thereafter—perhaps to avoid being photographed mingling with the Muslim attendees.
At one of these presidential iftar parties, just after the Maghrib call to prayer, it was discovered that the imam to lead prayers was missing. Rashtrapati Bhavan complex houses a mosque within its vast estate, and imams from either that mosque or the New Delhi Jama Masjid near Parliament typically led the prayers. But on this occasion, neither was present.
Later, it was revealed that Maulana Mohibullah Nadvi, then the Imam of Jama Masjid and now a Member of Parliament from Rampur, had arrived late and was arguing with the security personnel at the gate.
Meanwhile, Muslim ambassadors, parliamentarians, and other dignitaries stood in rows, wondering who would lead the prayer. Leader of the Opposition in the Rajya Sabha, Ghulam Nabi Azad, looked around in confusion.
It was then that Pakistani Ambassador Abdul Basit stepped forward and assumed the role of imam, leading the prayer. To everybody’s surprise, we learned that Basit had a melodious recitation. It was a soul-stirring sight—envoys from across the Muslim world, Indian Muslim leaders, elites, and MPs standing shoulder to shoulder, offering prayers behind a Pakistani diplomat.
On another occasion, again at Rashtrapati Bhavan during Dr Manmohan Singh’s second term as Prime Minister, Union Minister Farooq Abdullah grabbed my hand and remarked that apart from the two of us, no one else at the event appeared to be fasting.
As iftar time approached, he suggested we sit near the dinner hall entrance so we could be among the first to go in.
As the President was moving across the grand Ashoka Hall, greeting each guest individually, Farooq reminded me, "We’re here to break our fast, not to shake hands with the President like everyone else." Even the servers at Rashtrapati Bhavan seemed to pity us. One of them approached and assured us that there was plenty of food prepared for iftar.
What he was trying to say, diplomatically, was that there was no need to hover near the door like overeager guests—there would be enough refreshments for everyone. I asked Farooq Sahib, half-jokingly, how someone with his flamboyant image had suddenly become so devout.
He replied that during Ramadan, he abstains from all worldly activities, strictly observes the fast, and even completes a full recitation of the Quran. He attributed this devotion to his mother, Begum Akbar Jehan, who used to urge him and his siblings to fast and read the Quran during Ramadan.
Speaking of his father, Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, he recalled that he was an extremely strict parent who would beat them with a stick. It was always their mother who intervened and protected them.
As I stood near the Prime Minister listening to the Muslim leaders’ grievances, I suggested that a viable solution to this systemic bias might be to encourage Jammu and Kashmir Bank to expand its presence in Muslim-majority areas.
Gentleman Manmohan Singh
During Manmohan Singh’s tenure as Prime Minister, I attended an iftar dinner at the Prime Minister’s residence. I witnessed a group of Muslim leaders surrounding both the Prime Minister and Sonia Gandhi, questioning them on why the government had failed to implement the Sachar Committee’s recommendations, despite having formally accepted them years earlier.
They pointed out that public sector banks remained reluctant to lend to Muslim entrepreneurs and startups.
Around the same time, I had travelled to Meerut for a story and visited the survivors of the 1989 Hashimpura massacre. One of them, a doctor who had a psychological breakdown due to the trauma but had since recovered, was trying to start a small business as his medical license had been cancelled.
Despite government promises, he told me, no bank was willing to offer him a loan.
We were speaking inside his modest printing press. I asked how he managed to set it up without financial support. He explained that a year earlier, a Kashmiri bank had opened a branch in the town square. When he applied for a loan there, it was approved immediately.
It turned out to be a branch of Jammu and Kashmir Bank, then India’s fourth-largest public sector bank at the time. That moment sparked a realisation.
As I stood near the Prime Minister listening to the Muslim leaders’ grievances, I suggested that a viable solution to this systemic bias might be to encourage Jammu and Kashmir Bank to expand its presence in Muslim-majority areas.
As secular parties retreat from these cultural engagements, right-wing Hindu nationalist groups have stepped into the vacuum. The Muslim Rashtriya Manch, an affiliate of the RSS, has organised iftar events in various cities in recent years. This year, even the Israeli Embassy in Delhi hosted an iftar party.
Manmohan Singh nodded, noting it was time to break the fast, and said he would sit down with them after dinner to discuss the issue further. The group was elated, but I advised them to not squander the opportunity with an impromptu meeting. Instead, I urged them to seek a formal appointment with a well-prepared delegation—ideally accompanied by Sachar Committee members like Zafar Mahmood or Abu Saleh Shariff.
A structured meeting, with a clear agenda, would ensure that the Prime Minister involved key officials such as the Cabinet Secretary or the Finance Secretary, potentially leading to a swift and effective resolution.
But no one heeded the advice.
After dinner, the group was invited into a room adjacent to the lawn. Since I had been standing with them earlier, I was taken along as well. The Prime Minister sat down, and rather than discussing the Sachar Committee's implementation, a gentleman from Lucknow launched into a lengthy tirade questioning why India had voted against Iran at the International Atomic Energy Agency.
Manmohan Singh calmly responded that the decision was in India’s national interest and he would not entertain further discussion on the matter.
I thought this diversion would be brief and they would now return to their core issues. But no sooner had that ended than another participant raised the plight of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar, asking why the Indian government remained silent on their suffering.
And so, what was supposed to be a serious policy dialogue devolved into a 10-minute session of disjointed and misplaced chit-chat on foreign affairs. The core agenda — the implementation of Sachar Committee recommendations — was never even mentioned.
That incident aside, iftar dinners did serve a valuable purpose: they offered an open and dignified setting for direct interaction between Muslim leaders and those in power.
...under Prime Minister Modi and his close confidant, Home Minister Amit Shah, Muslims have been effectively turned into political pariahs. The disappearance of iftar parties is a symbolic but telling manifestation of this shift.
Bahuguna’s Tradition
It is said that in the late 1970s, socialist leader Hemvati Nandan Bahuguna initiated the tradition of political iftar gatherings to reach out to the Muslim community—a practice that was later adopted with great enthusiasm by Indira Gandhi and other political leaders.
During the coalition governments of Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Manmohan Singh, these iftar parties often served as a platform for behind-the-scenes political negotiations and for placating disgruntled allies.
But under Prime Minister Modi and his close confidant, Home Minister Amit Shah, Muslims have been effectively turned into political pariahs. The disappearance of iftar parties is a symbolic but telling manifestation of this shift.
So much so that even secular parties now advise their members not to host grand iftar events. If a local leader does organise one privately, they are instructed to avoid party banners or publicised photographs.
A few years ago in Uttar Pradesh, the Samajwadi Party went so far as to issue directives that if any leader attended an iftar gathering, they should refrain from taking selfies or posting pictures on social media—especially if they were wearing a skullcap.
The irony, however, is stark. As secular parties retreat from these cultural engagements, right-wing Hindu nationalist groups have stepped into the vacuum. The Muslim Rashtriya Manch, an affiliate of the RSS, has organised iftar events in various cities in recent years. This year, even the Israeli Embassy in Delhi hosted an iftar party.
One wonders whether the Muslim attendees raised concerns about the war imposed by Israel on Palestine and Gaza—or merely ate and left.
Against this backdrop, one cannot help but ask: Have Muslims in India been reduced to political untouchables? Are political parties now convinced that any association with Muslim causes or traditions will cost them the Hindu majority vote?
The BJP has already abandoned Muslim outreach. But what is more troubling is that most other political parties have now internalised the same logic—that proximity to Muslims could alienate Hindu voters.
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