JUNE 17— I am glad for the constant reminders to be patient and compassionate during Ramadan. It encourages one to respond to challenges and frustrations differently. 

Some might say that trials and tribulations, especially during the holy month, are a test from God. Non-believers would of course say that this is nonsense: the probability of something bad happening does not change just because it is a certain month. What I would say to that is, nonetheless, being given an incentive to change one’s attitude can provide much food for thought, and even new opportunities.

While many of these incidents are trivial, one irregular inconvenience presented itself recently. During my last commute between Seri Menanti and Kuala Lumpur, I first observed that my car’s alignment was off and made a mental note to have it adjusted.  Around Nilai, I passed a major accident, and the action of decelerating and re-accelerating made me realise that I had a flat tyre, and I had to stop. Fortunately, I was near an exit.

One often hears of people being robbed or kidnapped on highways, but a kind chap from the toll booth assisted me. Later, I was told that the tyre was severely damaged: this was not a normal puncture, and any further driving could have had terrible consequences.

Perhaps, if I had not witnessed the accident, I would have just continued driving. I had a long shower at home that night.

Many people who fast go through similarly sobering thoughts, and the realisation of one own’s fortunate life can motivate acts of kindness and generosity upon others. There are many such initiatives I could mention but the people leading these efforts would rather not have the publicity.

Although, there is nothing wrong with being public about charitable contributions if it raises awareness of needy causes and spurs others to contribute. In our age of social media, however, not everyone will agree on what constitutes the right balance.

For some, Ramadan is a time to revel in violence — either by killing people, as in the murder of a police officer in Paris in response to a call from Islamic State to inflict lone wolf attacks in the holy month — or by celebrating after the massacre in Orlando.

Even though our government sent condolences to the United States after its deadliest mass shooting, some Malaysians (as reported by the Malay Mail Online) expressed approval of the killings. 

These people probably never considered the possibility that the deceased have left grieving loved ones, or that they might have supported agreeable charities, or that they diligently provided goods and services that benefited everybody.

The immediate and predictable reaction of Donald Trump and like-minded demagogues was equally repellent.  The question is whether the American public, ever more polarised amidst the mounting presidential campaign, will be swayed by such scaremongering, or whether this rhetoric will trump the many other policy issues that have to be considered when only two options are available.

It is sad to think that just days before these events that triggered such political bile, Americans of all religious and racial backgrounds — as well as Muslims all around the world — remembered the greatest American Muslim of our generation in the mosques, churches, boxing rings and social media. On Instagram, Donald Trump posted a throwback (widely perceived to be cynical) with his “friend” Muhammad Ali, triggering a flurry of angry responses.

In one of Muhammad Ali’s final public statements following Trump’s proposal to ban Muslim immigration to the United States, he said: “There is nothing Islamic about killing innocent people ... anywhere in the world.  True Muslims know that the ruthless violence of so-called Islamic terrorists goes against the very tenets of our religion. We, as Muslims, have to stand up to those who use Islam to advance their own personal agenda.”

This advise should be heeded by us in Malaysia too. For it is not just non-Muslim politicians using Islam to divide people, but some Muslim politicians too. Indeed, the vocabulary being used by politicians in Sungai Besar and Kuala Kangsar seems the very opposite of the patience and compassion that Ramadan enjoins.

One of the joys of praying in the old mosques around Seri Menanti is learning their history: before my flat tyre I was at Masjid Kariah Kampung Galau, a typical mosque of rural Malaysia. It was built in 1933 by a Chinese carpenter named Ah Choy and his assistant on land donated by two Malay women.

If we had constant reminders of such legacies, not just in Ramadan, our nation could have countless new opportunities rooted in the same spirit: believers or not.

* Tunku Zain Al-’Abidin is founding president of IDEAS

** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail Online.