As the crescent moon ushers in the arrival of Ramadan this week, the Muslim world is preparing for a month of fasting, prayer and reflection. In the Middle East, this sacred season arrives – much as it has for the past several years now – against the backdrop of unresolved wars and continued suffering across many parts of the region.
In Yemen, Houthi intransigence and political dysfunction continues to leave millions in the midst of a humanitarian crisis. In Gaza, Palestinian civilians remain caught between armed factions on the ground and Israeli warplanes in the sky, and without any process in place to rebuild their territory. In Sudan, meaningful negotiations to restore civilian rule remain a distant prospect while atrocities are committed daily, and in Syria, a country freed from decades of brutal dictatorship is still in dire need of security and economic stabilisation.
A new layer of uncertainty also hangs over the region. As the US and Iran began negotiations on Tuesday in Geneva for a deal over Tehran’s nuclear weapons programme, Washington continued a build-up of military assets in the region. The message is clear: should a deal fail to materialise, the risk of yet another conflagration is very real.
It is easy to see wars and peace talks as distant, strategic affairs conducted by leaders, generals and diplomats in rooms far removed from the street. But Ramadan – with its focus on service, personal sacrifice, family and community – invites us to re-examine things at a more intimate, human scale. The holy month reminds those in positions of authority of the vulnerable members of society. These are the people governments' efforts are meant to serve, such as those who do not have enough food to eat or who have lost family members. The proliferation of conflict and the persistence of poverty in so much of the region have meant that there are millions of such people in the Middle East.
Every battle fought and peace deal reached is, ostensibly, in service of these ordinary people and improving their lives, but far too often, such gains are not apparent. As a result, countless ordinary citizens in several countries will break their fast this year in refugee tents or damaged homes, their prayers focused on survival. This ought to prompt deep reflection in the minds of those who seek to deepen rather than temper conflict.
Believers are meant to adhere to a halt in fighting during the holy month. Ramadan has, on occasion, provided warring parties with the impetus for temporary ceasefires to give civilians respite and allow all sides to concentrate on matters of faith. We should hope it can do so again this year. A Ramadan pause is unlikely to dissolve disputes entirely, but it does create much-needed space for moral clarity. In a region exhausted by conflict, the month’s central message of self-restraint, empathy and accountability could not be more urgent.
