As Ramazan descends upon Srinagar, the evening call to prayer weaves through the city's bustling soundscape, uniting every corner of the city - from the 14th-century grand Mosque of Nowhatta to humble office prayer rooms and crowded kitchen gatherings in Bemina - in a shared rhythm of devotion for a month.
This February, Ramadan began for nearly 2.5 billion Muslims worldwide. To the casual observer, it is defined by abstention - no food, no water, no indulgence from dawn until dusk. But to look at Ramadan and see only a fast is to look at an ocean and see only the surface. Beneath the surface of this pillar of Islam lies a powerful and profound reflective ethic that speaks not only to Muslims, but to the very fabric of our fractured societies.
This morality emerges at an odd time in history. The United States released the final cache of the Jeffrey Epstein files just a few weeks before the holy month of Ramadan. Department of Justice, revealing the intricate structure of elite impunity that has characterised the transatlantic ruling class for decades in painstaking detail.
The documents revealed what many in the Global South have long suspected: that the liberal champions of "human rights" and "rules-based order" operate a parallel universe of moral depravity, shielded by wealth, political connections, and a justice system that bends but never breaks for the powerful.
As one analysis noted, Epstein's sex trafficking enterprise was never merely the isolated depravity of one man; it was a symptom of a systemic "elite privilege apparatus" where power is wielded as a shield and the law reduced to a malleable instrument and much beyond.
Ramadan's message of justice, accountability, and spiritual equality resonates with renewed urgency against this backdrop of exposed hypocrisy. The Muslims consider fasting a sacred obligation. For the world, it offers a compelling counter-narrative to the "structural impunity" that the Epstein files so vividly documented—a reminder that another way of organising human society is possible.
Liberation of Discipline
To comprehend the social message of Ramadan, one must first comprehend its spiritual foundation—Taqwa, or God-fearing. Often translated as God-consciousness, it is the state of awareness that the fast is designed to cultivate. The believer trains the soul to surrender the forbidden by voluntarily giving up the permissible, such as food, alcohol, and intimate relationships.
According to Islamic beliefs, the Prophet Muhammad said that "whoever does not give up false speech and acts upon it, God has no need of him giving up his food and drink." The physical fast is merely the chassis; the engine is moral rectitude.
This self-mastery is the first lesson in what might be termed spiritual anti-capitalism. The relentless stimulation and gratification of desire is the foundation of our modern economy, which is akin to the one that produced Epstein. Customers come first, and citizens come second. Advertising algorithms exploit our impulses, and the market's invisible hand is forever reaching for our wallets.
Ramadan throws a spiritual spanner in those works. For 29 or 30 days, the faithful are instructed to say "no", not just to food, but to the entire apparatus of instant gratification. It is a conscious decoupling from the tyranny of appetite.
Fasting is not an end in itself but a foundation for critical consciousness. When you are hungry, the gnawing in your stomach questions your own privilege and transforms the abstract notion of "the poor" into a visceral, bodily reality, democratising discomfort across class lines and opening a gateway to genuine empathy. The well-fed fasting executive briefly inhabits the chronic hunger of the precariously employed; the comfortable suburbanite feels the thirst of the labourer.
This brings us to Marx's observation that religion is "the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.” He identifies how faith can both express suffering and, in practice, pacify the desire to change the conditions causing it.
But Ramadan resists this critique. Its core obligations are not consolations deferred to the afterlife but structural interventions in the present. Zakat, obligatory alms giving at 2.5% of surplus wealth exceeding the Nisab threshold, is a mechanism for wealth redistribution here and now. Ushr demands 5–10% of agricultural produce at harvest. Sadaqah, voluntary charity, extends further still, requiring no fixed rules, no minimum, and no religious or social boundary in its giving. Even a kind word qualifies.
Together, these are not opiates but obligations, transforming the hunger felt during Ramadan's fast into a communal responsibility that goes beyond passive hope.
In a world where the Epstein files have shown us the "black market of shared sins" that binds the global elite, Ramadan's insistence on accountability before the divine is the ultimate leveller.
Charity as Justice
Zakat is not benevolence but a right of the poor upon the wealth of the rich, a divinely mandated redistribution that would make the Epsteins of the world with their offshore accounts, private islands and all deeply uncomfortable, regardless of what they wear.
Beyond Zakat lies Sadaqah, voluntary giving throughout the month, and Zakat al-Fitr, the obligatory pre-Eid charity ensuring even the poorest can celebrate.
From food banks in the Middle East to royal-endorsed foundations in Riyadh and Kuwait, from the streets of Tehran, Cairo, and Istanbul to Lahore, Karachi, Delhi, Mumbai, and Dhaka, Ramadan triggers a colossal global transfer of resources.
The United Nations has recently recognised Islamic instruments like Zakat and Waqf as timeless models for humanitarian mobilisation. This is charity not as a patronising handout but as an act of purification for the giver and justice for the receiver.
This chain of redistribution goes beyond the Muslims and is exhibited through global examples of hospitality. To show solidarity with Muslims, some non-Muslims also observe the fast.
In the heart of Chennai city, a temple called ‘Sufi Dar’ has been serving ‘Iftar’ to the Muslims throughout Ramadan for the last 40 years or so.
Churches and Christian communities across India, Pakistan, and the Middle East host Iftar gatherings for Muslims during Ramadan to promote interfaith harmony. These events feature communal meals and prayers, with some services held inside church premises, as seen at St. Andrew's Church in the UAE and Parishes in Mumbai.
Similarly, Sikh communities uphold a long-standing tradition of organising Iftar in Gurdwaras, including in Punjab on either side of Radcliffe Line, Canada, Dubai and other parts of the world. By sharing meals and prayers, both faiths demonstrate solidarity and mutual respect, reinforcing the universal values of peace and unity that transcend religious boundaries.
The holistic economic dimension of charity directly challenges the "elite impunity" that the Epstein case laid bare. The Western financial system was designed with offshore secrecy and regulatory fragmentation to allow capital to cross national boundaries while justice remained anchored by national boundaries.
The wealthy were able to purchase regulatory distance and operate in quasi-private governance spaces thanks to a "structural bias".
In contrast, Islam's economic theology insists that wealth is a gift from God and not a means of dominance. It demands transparency, circulation, and the constant pruning of excess so that the community's most vulnerable are not left behind. Unfortunately, in practice, this doesn’t happen.
Challenges Within
The idealistic portrait is constantly under threat—not only from external enemies, but from internal failures. The month of spiritual restraint can, for some, become a month of conspicuous consumption. Television networks air special dramas. Supermarkets overflow with "special Ramadan" offers.
Repackaging hunger as a reason to purchase a premium date variety is common. The charitable organisations that aim to redistribute wealth may develop into a public relations performance.
Many Muslims today are caught in corruption's grip, seduced by wealth and power. But the struggle against it is itself a resistance against the commodification of faith and conscience.
The Ummah: A Prefigurative Community
This brings us to the most visible manifestation of Ramadan's social power: the forging of the global Muslim community. Ramadan is a month of aggressive social reinvestment in a world where social capital is decreasing, and revelations of elite criminality have shattered trust in institutions.
The shared rhythm of the day - the pre-dawn stir for Suhur [Sahari] and the collective anticipation as sunset draws near - shows Ramadan's solidarity. It is palpable in the mosques during the late night Taraweeh prayers, where long passages of the Qur'an are recited in unison, creating a sonic and spiritual patchwork that connects the worshipper to centuries of tradition and millions of contemporaneous believers. But its most potent expression is the Iftar meal.
The real message of Sawm (fasting) is that when families open their homes, the simple act of sharing a date and a glass of water, followed by a meal, transforms into a profound act of love and connection.
In some countries, mosques lay out long tables that stretch into courtyards, feeding anyone who arrives - the needy, the traveller, the neighbour of any faith, the curious. Across the globe, Muslim organisations actively invite non-Muslim neighbours, colleagues, and friends to Iftar dinners. This is authentic dawah (invitation), not preaching but practicing; not telling but showing. In some Muslim dominated countries like Malaysia, mosques run "Iftar Muhibbah" programmes, specifically inviting Buddhist, Hindu, Christian and Jewish communities to break their fast, participate in dialogue sessions, and tour the mosque.
This commitment to interfaith harmony is not a modern innovation but a return to the source. Islam does not allow extremism or sectarianism but teaches the lessons of unity, love, respect, justice, and brotherhood. This message is absolutely necessary in a world where populists and demagogues from all sides have taken over religion politics.
The Politics of Religion in a Dangerous World
Yet, one cannot ignore the larger setting in which this hospitality occurs. The global landscape is marred by conflicts, Islamophobia, and the weaponisation of religious identity. Muslim leaders have repeatedly emphasised the challenges facing the Ummah, such as the worldwide rise in anti-Muslim sentiment and unresolved conflicts like Palestine, or such prolonged political disputes.
The persecution of other religious minorities in various settings is also a global reality. For instance, armed groups have targeted Christian communities in Nigeria over the past year, resulting in widespread killings that have attracted international condemnation and action.
The current politics of religion have made the world a dangerously divided place. Autocratic governments and violent non-state actors exploit faith to consolidate power and marginalise the "other". Research has shown a statistical link between a nation's acceptance of religious diversity and its overall stability; conversely, nations with lower religious diversity are the least peaceful.
When religion becomes political identity, it stops being a path to God and becomes a weapon.
A vital distinction is often lost in the cacophony: the sins of a Muslim are not Islam's sins. The same applies to every faith. ISIS does not represent Islam, nor do the Crusades represent Christianity, or mob lynchings represent Dharma, or sectarian attacks in Pakistan represent Muslim culture. Equally, not every Jew is complicit in Palestinian suffering; that lies with specific political and military actors, not a people or their faith.
Preaching morality is one thing, practicing it is another. This could also significantly apply to Epstein’s world which included a powerful elite that preached values of morality but weaved systemic barbarity, exclusion and exploitation that was mutually beneficial to a certain coterie of elite – from the political centres to the corporate offices. It was a system of lack of accountability and double standards.
It is this hypocrisy that Ramadan's ethic of accountability aims to correct by establishing a foundation for human society based on the understanding that all power is temporary and privilege is a test.
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