Ramadan Between Piety and Consumption

Mohammad Nur Rianto Al Arif
(Professor at UIN Syarif Hidayatullah Jakarta; Chair of PDM East Jakarta)

Every time Ramadan arrives, the atmosphere of the city changes. Streets that are usually crowded in the morning become quiet, but toward sunset they turn into a sea of people. Sidewalks are filled with takjil vendors, shopping centers are packed, shopping carts overflow, and phones are flooded with discount notifications. At the same time, religious sermons constantly remind people about self-restraint, simplicity, and empathy for the poor.

These two realities run side by side and contradict each other. Ramadan is a month of restraint, yet it is also the biggest consumption season for society. Ramadan teaches the reduction of desire, yet it triggers increased spending. Ramadan calls for simplicity, yet it creates new and more expensive social standards. There lies the paradox: fasting weakens the body but strengthens the market.

The purpose of fasting has been clearly stated in the Word of Allah:

“O you who believe, fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you so that you may attain taqwa.” (QS. Al-Baqarah: 183)

The purpose of fasting is taqwa, not merely hunger. Taqwa means the ability to control oneself, especially toward impulses that are actually permissible but need to be limited. Therefore, Ramadan was not designed to shift pleasure but to discipline it.

This phenomenon is not merely a moral irony at the individual level but a socio-economic pattern that repeats every year. The pattern is too consistent to be called a coincidence and too widespread to be called a personal mistake. In modern society, Ramadan is not only a spiritual practice but has also transformed into an annual economic cycle.

In its most basic sense, fasting is reduction. Fasting is not replacing meal times but reducing the dominance of biological needs over human consciousness. Hunger is used as a tool of reflection so that when physical impulses weaken, inner space strengthens.

Logically, consumption should decrease. The Qur’an even affirms the principle of eating in Islam:

“… eat and drink, but do not be excessive. Indeed, Allah does not like those who are excessive.” (QS. Al-A‘raf: 31)

This verse is interesting because it does not forbid eating but forbids excess. This means the main problem is not consumption, but the inability to stop. However, social practice shows the opposite.

The iftar menu is often more diverse than an ordinary lunch. Sweet dishes, fried snacks, sugar-layered drinks, and main courses are prepared all at once. Fasting does not reduce consumption; it compresses it.

Energy that was meant for reflection shifts into anticipation of eating. Before Maghrib, people are not busy thinking or reading but are busy choosing food. A time that symbolically represents peak awareness becomes the peak of consumption activity. Here the shift in meaning becomes visible: from self-control to scheduling pleasure.

From an economic perspective, Ramadan is an anomaly that is stable. It is an anomaly because it does not occur in other months and stable because it always repeats. Food demand increases sharply, staple prices rise, and retail transaction volumes surge. Some business sectors even depend on this month for survival.

What changes is not biological need but social perception of how the month should be lived. People do not eat more because hunger is greater but because social expectations are higher. Iftar gatherings were originally simple means of maintaining relationships. Gradually, they turned into social rituals with unwritten standards. Meanwhile, the Qur’an connects piety with social concern, not symbolic luxury:

“And they give food, in spite of love for it, to the needy, the orphan, and the captive.” (QS. Al-Insan: 8)

This verse emphasizes that the best food is not for social status but for those in need. Yet often the opposite happens: the best meals are for equal-status guests, while charity is from leftovers.

Industry understands that Ramadan is the largest collective emotional moment in society. Thus appear religious products, spiritual promotions, and the commodification of piety. The economy does not create religiosity, but packages it. Another verse becomes relevant here:

“Rivalry in worldly increase distracts you.” (QS. At-Takatsur: 1)

Competition does not always appear as open arrogance. It can come in the form of rising social standards: who serves the most dishes, who hosts the grandest event, who provides the most complete menu. Consumption becomes a way of cultural participation.

Psychologically, people feel entitled to reward themselves after holding back hunger. As a result, self-restraint during the day turns into justification for consumption at night. Yet the purpose of fasting is to restrain desire, not to postpone gratification. The verse on fasting ends with the goal: “la‘allakum tattaqun” (so that you may attain taqwa).

Taqwa is not merely abstaining from food but the ability to say “enough.” The rise in food prices every Ramadan is not only a distribution problem but also a collective behavior issue. Everyone buys more at the same time. The Qur’an has warned about the consequences of wastefulness:

“Indeed, the wasteful are brothers of the devils.” (QS. Al-Isra: 27)

This verse is strong not because the food is unlawful but because excess damages social balance. When everyone buys excessively, prices rise and the poor are affected. The problem is not scarcity of goods, but excess of desire.

Fasting is meant to train empathy for the poor, yet structurally they are often the most burdened. Prices rise and social standards increase. Meanwhile, the Qur’an places social justice at the core of religiosity:

“Have you seen the one who denies the religion? That is the one who repels the orphan and does not encourage feeding the poor.” (QS. Al-Ma‘un: 1–3)

This verse is striking: denial of religion is not attributed to those who do not perform rituals but to those who neglect social concern. This means the measure of religiosity is not the ritual itself, but its impact on the vulnerable.

The solution is not to reject the Ramadan economy but to redirect its orientation: from consumption to distribution. Ramadan should expand sharing, not shopping; lower symbolic standards, not raise them. The Qur’an repeatedly affirms balance:

“And those who, when they spend, are neither excessive nor stingy but are moderate between the two.” (QS. Al-Furqan: 67)

Simplicity does not mean poverty, but control. Ramadan comes every year with the same calendar, but not always with renewed human beings. We succeed in changing meal times, but not necessarily in changing our relationship with desire.

We stop eating temporarily, but we do not stop wanting. The paradox of Ramadan consumption shows that restraining hunger is easier than restraining the desire to possess. Yet the essence of fasting is learning sufficiency.

Perhaps the true victory is not when the dining table is full at Eid but when, afterward, life no longer feels the need to be overly full. In the end, fasting is not merely worship by abstaining from food but training to free ourselves from the need to always have more.

This article was published in Suara Muhammadiyah on Monday, February 16, 2026.