A temple association’s well‑intentioned plan to host a Raya open house in Penang has unexpectedly attracted brickbats from some Muslims.

This, despite the organisers having consulted mosque leaders, surau committees, and community representatives—all of whom had apparently agreed that the event could go ahead.

But the state’s Islamic religious department intervened, following a complaint by a Malay rights group, and declared the event a no‑go on the grounds that Aidilfitri celebrations are strictly a Muslim religious activity.

To my mind, the issue deserves careful reflection.

In Malaysia, “Raya” is synonymous with Hari Raya Aidilfitri, marking the end of Ramadan.

What non‑Muslim Malaysians—and perhaps even some Muslim Malaysians—may not realise is that the Malays tend to observe Syawal in ways that extend well beyond the festival’s religious core.

Among the Malays, visiting relatives and hosting or attending open houses during Raya are obligatory.

Over time, the Malays have also introduced the practice of visiting the graves of their loved ones on the morning of Syawal, before heading to the mosque to pray.

Then there is the “Takbir Raya”, where representatives from the mosque would go from house to house to recite the “takbir”, a special chant that glorifies Allah.

There is also the practice of family members seeking forgiveness from one another on the morning of Raya, to nullify past transgressions.

But how did Prophet Muhammad s.a.w. celebrate the end of Ramadan? And how do the Arabs celebrate Eid?

Based on Islamic literature, including the hadiths, the Prophet would order every Muslim in Madinah to come to a nearby field and listen to a sermon before a special prayer is recited.

That prayer is special as it includes many of the takbir pronouncements.

As far as I can tell, the Prophet’s version of Raya was purely a one-day affair. Beyond the first day of Syawal, Islam imposes no other rituals in conjunction with Raya.

Some Muslims may begin what is known as “Puasa Enam”, a six-day fast, on the second day of Syawal. This fast is optional and those who observe it celebrate another kind of Raya at the end of that fasting week.

All this suggests that much of what Malay Muslims practice today is cultural and rooted in custom, though inspired by faith.

By that logic, a temple hosting a Raya open house—especially one held after the first day of Syawal and devoid of prayers—should not be controversial.

In fact, whenever my university hosts a Raya event, it is always a cultural celebration, never a religious ceremony.

This is why I fail to understand the controversy behind the Thean Hock Keong Association’s attempt to host a Raya open house, since it neither fell on the first day of Syawal nor involved any prayers.

If the religious department felt uneasy about a non‑Muslim association hosting such an event, it should have reflected on the fact that mosques themselves have hosted Chinese New Year open houses.

While Chinese New Year is traditionally cultural, some Muslim scholars now argue it has certain religious elements. Nonetheless, the events organised by the mosque were neither held on the first day of the festival, nor did they involve un-Islamic rituals. So why the fuss over the event?

Malaysia is a plural nation.

For that reasons, as a Malay Muslim, I have often accepted invitations to Raya open houses at non‑Muslim houses of worship. While I would never take part in their rituals or prayers, I readily partake of the food on offer and mingle to strengthen bonds.

As the late Dr Siddiq Fadhil, former president of the Malaysian Islamic Youth Movement, once said: “Kita bersaudara sebangsa dan sama semanusia.” (We are one people united in humanity.)

It would be wise that we always bear this in mind.

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.