Now when this year’s holy month of Ramadan and Eid-ul-Fitr are over, and everyday life is on its way back to its usual routines, we have an opportunity to reflect on it all – especially if we sit in a bus or train for a long time, coming back from visiting the home town or village. The holy month ended with festivities and a pleasant time for most of us, rich or poor, man or woman, Muslim, Hindu or Christian – because the event was not only about religion; it was also about cultural traditions, common to Muslim Pakistanis as well as members of other religions on the fringe of the majority religion.
There is something universal and all-inclusive about the holy month, the way Iftar is celebrated every evening of the month and they way it is crowned with Eid-ul-Fitr, in Pakistan with no less than three official holidays. People invite in anyone nearby when they have Iftar meals, and they would be worried about someone who would not have relatives and loved ones around to be with during Eid.
It has many resemblances to Christmas, and the month from Thanksgiving leading up to the main event in my inherited religion and culture – remembering, too, that we are all born into a religion, except for a few who are convertors, by marriage or own decision, perhaps by persuasion by missionaries or others.
In my home country Norway, this is the first generation of Christian believers, and those who are culturally Christian, to be exposed to Islam close-up in the country’s capital Oslo and other major cities.
An old friend, who is a retired senior diplomat, let me call her Ingunn, sent me an email towards the end of Ramadan, telling me how pleasant and joyful the atmosphere in downtown Oslo was – and she had noticed it and was glad to tell me. First, I thought she might have taken a stroll in one of Grønland’s main shopping and restaurant streets, or passed by a mosque in the evening, but then I realised it could also have been just around Stortinget, the parliament building, or somewhere else in central Oslo. Islam has now become visible in the city and is the second largest faith association in the country, after the major Lutheran-Protestant Church, ahead of the Roman-Catholic Church, which was always the second largest outside the people’s church, or state church, as it was until a few years ago. Now, twelve to fifteen percent of the Oslo inhabitants are Muslims, including over 30,000 Pakistani-Norwegians. More importantly, the reason I was glad to receive Ingunn’s email was that she had noticed the pleasant Ramadan atmosphere, and knowing her, she would have interacted with the people, too.
When I was young and lived in a central area of Oslo, Bislett, the only Muslims we saw were those running corner shops or driving trams and buses; we just saw them, but we didn’t interact much and didn’t learn much about the religious and cultural life of the ‘New Norwegians’ from outside Europe. Many were from Gujrat, Rawalpindi and Lahore, and had grown up in working-class families, not feeling quite confident in the new land, and perhaps not being proud of own culture, maybe not even religion.
Today, Pakistanis and other Muslims in Norway are indeed beginning to be visible in their land, showing pride and taking their space in society, thus making the country more diverse and richer, with a number of Pakistanis in top posts in society, and thousands of women and men who are doctors, lawyers, engineers, and so on, and some are authors, media personalities and politicians at local and national levels. Unfortunately, too few of the clever newcomers choose to become teachers, which would be important to create everyday role models for newcomers as well as indigenous citizens.
Furthermore, we still lack exchange of traditions related to the major religious feasts, for example, that Muslims invite Christians for their Eid parties, if not the first Eid day, maybe the second or third day. Christians, too, should invite Muslims to share their religious feasts with them. Then there are also purely cultural events, such as celebrating mid-summer night on 23 June, with a bonfire and outdoor picnics, folkdances and more in the park or another open field. In a way, it is the most Swedish of all national and religious events, and a test for how well newcomers are integrated, if they are invited or not invited to attend.
In the afternoon on Eid day, I went for a stroll in Jinnah Super, the nearest market in the Islamabad area where I live. It was very quiet as most people had gone home to their home villages and towns, or was celebrating with relatives and guests in their homes in the city. It reminded me of Oslo on Christmas day, even Easter Sunday. I recalled that a friend I studied with, who was curious to see how downtown Oslo was on Christmas Eve and he went for a walk in the city centre. He said he was one of the few indigenous Norwegians doing that; the rest were Pakistanis and other immigrants, and a few homeless men.
On second Eid day, I had agreed to meet some friends in Jinnah Super and more people were seen then. Again, I compared to Norway, where, after one or two holidays at home, people get anxious to go out of the house, meeting friends, not only family. According to traditions in Norway, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are for family only, not even friends are included then, unless invited specifically. As the holiday gets more relaxed towards the end, it is a relive for many, maybe especially teenagers, to be allowed to see their friends. Well, today, the youngsters can use social media secretly to be in contact any time, but in my youth, it was considered bad manners even to telephone our mates during the beginning of the religious holidays. Later, however, there were many events, especially at Christmas – and let me note that everywhere the business community knows how to hold tempting sales and events to make money when people are free.
This year, there were three sad events that marred the end of Ramadan and Eid-ul-Fitr in Pakistan, namely the two terrorist attacks in Parachinar and Quetta. The oil tanker that overturned in Bahawalpur was a gruesome accident beyond comprehension. I came to think of the terrible Braathen SAFE Airline crash that happened outside Oslo in 1972, when the evening plane from Ålesund got out of course due to signal faults in fog and mist and ran into the Asker Hills. It took six and a half hours to locate the plane.
It was the day before Christmas and I had just reached home; we were glued to the radio (we had no TV) till midnight, praying and hoping that the plane would be found intact, and if not, that we didn’t know anyone onboard. 40 passengers perished and five survived miraculously, but with burns and other injuries. Half a year later, my boss met on the bus on his way to work a woman who had been badly burnt in the accident; he spoke with her and she praised God that she had been spared, in spite of her injuries scaring her face.
Let me end my article today by stating that religious events, with the culture and traditions around them, are essentially similar all over the world, including in Norway and Pakistan, in spite of differences in details and expressions. And then, if we are believers, and most people are, we would also hope that the spirit of the events can stay with us. I know that the lessons from every Ramadan and Eid will stay with most of us throughout life. As we grow older, memories are cherished more than before – and the young in our midst will carry with them what they experienced during this year’s Ramadan and Eid the rest of their lives. It will be part of what shapes them as human beings, their faith, values and secular life.
The writer is a senior Norwegian social scientist with experience in research, diplomacy and development aid.
In the afternoon on Eid day, I went for a stroll in Jinnah Super, the nearest market in the Islamabad area where I live.