If you look closely, many religious holidays are built on much older traditions. Long before doctrine, people celebrated life’s real milestones: the harvest, the end of winter, the return of spring. Dionysus’ harvest festivals, for example, were lively, wine-filled gatherings. Days like Hıdırellez or Easter began as folk celebrations, even if they later took on religious layers. And Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of Ramadan, is essentially a joyful “harvest” after a month of fasting.
Eid al-Adha, the Festival of Sacrifice, is often seen as something different — a sacred act of devotion. But historically, it has also been about community and solidarity: supporting the poor, giving alms, coming together as a society. Yet in today’s world, many of these holidays — religious or otherwise — have something in common: they’ve become festivals of consumption.
The media and advertising industries encourage us to celebrate by buying, gifting, and spending. And most of us follow along, often without questioning why. Even International Women’s Day now comes with window displays and gift expectations. Valentine’s Day makes this most obvious, but if we’re honest, Eid al-Adha too has developed a commercial side: new clothes for children, sweets for guests, and, of course, the large economy built around livestock, butchers, and ritual services.
The original idea — sharing with those in need — is a powerful one. Fourteen centuries ago, meat was one of the few practical things people could offer to the poor. Today, however, there are many other ways to support those in need: providing food, education, or healthcare. The act of helping remains timeless, even if the form it takes could evolve.
This isn’t just about capitalism imposing clichés. It’s also about how easily we accept traditions and habits without reflection. Just as lovers feel special giving mass-produced gifts on Valentine’s Day, we may feel reassured by exchanging meat with neighbors at Eid. In both cases, the feeling of meaning often comes less from the ritual itself than from the sense of connection it creates.
So perhaps the real question is not whether Eid al-Adha is “different” from Valentine’s Day, but how we can hold onto the essence of these celebrations — community, love, generosity — without letting them be hollowed out by routine and consumerism.