Faith to Faith - Celebrating with British Muslims
The Guardian
24 January 1998

NEXT week British Muslims will celebrate Eid al-Fitr - a holy day of celebration which marks the end of Ramadan - a triumph of the spirit over the mundane, the communal over the individual. After a month of battling with the "self" through control of mind, body and matter, Eid al-Fitr ("feast of breaking fast") is a day of joy and sharing, marked by an Eid prayer performed by the community. Alms (zakat al-Fitr) are given to the poor, guaranteeing that everyone can celebrate.

For second-or third-generation British Muslims like myself, Eid is a time for reflection. As children it was the time to dress up in lovingly home-made fancy dresses, when we stayed awake the night before in anticipation. On the day relatives from all over London descended upon my grandparents' house I meanwhile looked forward to receiving "eidy" - a small gift of money or sweets traditionally given to children.

But times have changed. The relatives still come, but so do friends, neighbours and colleagues, Muslims and non-Muslims. We still wear new clothes and cook exotic foods - only now our inspiration is more global: the new gowns we will wear will most probably be from Mali, the incense from Arabia and the main dish Turkish.

Our generation questioned some of our parents' Eid traditions, such as the over-indulgence in food and dress, and the attitude of seeing the occasion merely as a family affair and forgetting its wider social implications. Bridging the divide between the traditional "back home" Eid to an Eid more reflective of our new lives in a new country has not always been straightforward. How do you perform your religious obligations, maintain the positive values and ethos handed down from generations, and also adjust to a society which is not only ignorant of your way of life, but sees you as some kind of alien?

We have managed to maintain the values and ethos nurtured by our parents and grandparents, but where our Eid has changed is mainly to do with our attitude to the 30 days which precede it. Ramadan used to be a time of fasting and feasting with little spiritual reflection. It is now a time when we try to benefit from all the blessings the holy month has to offer. We try to improve on our God-consciousness and our prayers, and get rid of our bad habits, eat good and wholesome food and make some effort to help others, less fortunate.

Nowadays, Eid provides a new challenge. Our children, third-and fourth-generation British Muslims, compare their Eid celebrations with that of people of other faiths. Despite Islam being Britain's second largest religion the general public still do not understand much about us, or our way of life.

WE often find it difficult to explain to Nadir, our eight-year-old son, why Eid is so low key in Britain (his country). Last year he was excited at the prospect of Eid lights on our high street - they didn't materialise and his disappointment was acute. He also finds it difficult to share with his friends and school his excitement in keeping his fasts. There is still a sense of bewilderment, particularly among teachers, as to why young children should keep fasts. What people do not understand is that fasting is not about deprivation but about self-control, character-building and thinking of others.

So, this Eid, we will sit and pray for a better future and a day when our children can see Eid lights along the high streets, when Blue Peter highlights more of the Muslim calender, where schools become more imaginative in their presentation of Islam and where our children can talk about their religious celebrations and be fully accepted within the diversity of modern Britain.