A Debate on "Sacrifice (Qurban)" with a Vegetarian Atheist

Fatih Kaya – Zafer Magazine
Whenever a religious practice manifests itself within society, it quickly becomes a matter of controversy—even conflict. In this regard, the sacrifice (qurban) ritual, being far more visible in the media than other forms of worship, naturally sharpens debates around it. On the other hand, its impact on people’s inner world is so profound that, whether one believes or not, everyone is inevitably confronted with it. In a sense, the issue operates largely on a psychological level. The impressions and emotions it leaves behind are so intense that some people cannot even tolerate hearing about animals being sacrificed, let alone witnessing it. Thus, discussions about sacrifice never seem to end.

The distinctive aspect of the debate you are about to read is that it was conducted with someone who likely represents the most oppositional segment on this issue: imagine a person who is simultaneously an atheist, a vegetarian, and an animal rights advocate. Naturally, speaking with such a person about sacrifice—and responding to arguments that reflect the psychological state of its most vocal critics—is both difficult and highly instructive. Since the debate mostly unfolded as written responses to the other party’s questions, I am presenting the key sections faithfully.

“I truly struggle to understand you, Mr. Fatih. You regard the Eid al-Adha as a spiritual environment. But I think this is entirely an illusion. Even if one strips away religious feelings, even if one has no sense of compassion, a person with intact rational faculties would realise that an environment where blood is shed and lives are taken cannot be described as spiritual or sublime.”

Frankly, what you say first gives me an impression about your personality and character. Someone who speaks like this cannot be cruel, indifferent, or insensitive to what others feel or think. On the contrary, you must be an extremely sensitive person. And I value and respect this quality in you. However, I also hope—and even expect—that you direct this sensitivity not only toward animals that are sacrificed, but also toward understanding the spiritual and meaningful world of believing people. Otherwise, one might conclude that the sensitivity you show is artificial or insincere.

Now, to your question. Are religious people who perform sacrifice really devoid of compassion, as you and many other critics of qurban claim? Do they take pleasure in bloodshed and violence? Is primitiveness and brutality ingrained in their very nature?

To answer this properly, we cannot rely on a distant, superficial glance—you will surely agree. Let us look more closely at those who perform the sacrifice. Let us be present at the moment of slaughter. What do we see? Do we see people trying to stab animals with spears or arrows, like in prehistoric hunting societies? No one can seriously claim such a thing.

Look at their faces. Do you see vengeance, a desire for bloodshed, anger directed at the animal, or pleasure at its death? I do not know about you, but I have witnessed many sacrificial slaughters. I have seen none of these things.

What is usually observed is this: those who will perform the sacrifice and the participants gather around the animal. They perform the act with the awareness that it is an act of worship, reciting “Allahu Akbar.” Before the slaughter, the butcher asks for permission from the participants: “Do you grant your authorization?” To prevent unnecessary suffering, the animal’s eyes are often covered, and the knife is swiftly applied to the throat. The aim is to minimise pain. And once the act is completed, one does not see expressions of pleasure in having shed blood or satisfaction of any violent urge. Rather, what appears is a sense of inner peace—of having fulfilled a divine command.

There is also another side to the matter. You seem to assume that societies which do not perform ritual sacrifice must therefore be free from violence and filled with compassion. Yet if we look at the United States, for example, sacrificial slaughter is not widely practiced in the religious sense; animals are mostly slaughtered in industrial facilities. So the “responsibility” is not directly attributed to individuals. Yet why is violence so prevalent in such a society? Why do extreme cases such as serial killings occur more frequently there? Do school shootings and indiscriminate attacks reflect a society filled with compassion?

On the other hand, do the atrocities committed in Iraq, or the inhumane images from Guantanamo Bay, not remain fresh in our collective memory?

If these are not enough, let me offer a statistical observation: in Muslim societies, particularly during Ramadan and the period leading up to Eid al-Adha, crime rates noticeably decline. If your claim were correct, should we not expect the opposite?

Thus, there is no causal relationship between “performing sacrifice” and “violence,” as is commonly assumed. This is a connection constructed in your own mind. The problem lies in your perspective. You begin with a predetermined judgment and then interpret reality accordingly, failing even to see what is actually in front of you.

“I do not agree with you. I do not think like you. The killing of animals leads people to more easily adopt violence. Pythagoras agrees with me: ‘As long as humans kill and eat animals, wars and bloodshed will not disappear.’”

Frankly, you have completely misunderstood me. You ask new questions without weighing anything I have said in the balance of conscience.

As for Pythagoras, I have nothing to say about his mathematics. But I cannot say the same about his understanding of psychology. Here, he applies mathematical linearity to human nature and makes an error. According to him, people kill animals, and this reinforces killing behaviour. Yet for a believer performing sacrifice, the first emotion awakened upon witnessing blood is the awareness of the value of life.

Especially when human life is concerned, this awareness becomes even stronger. That is why societies that perform sacrifice rarely produce extreme manifestations of cruelty such as serial killings. Because witnessing death leads to a heightened respect for life. Societies that forget death also forget the value of life.

Indeed, one of the reasons our ancestors placed cemeteries in the heart of cities was precisely to keep death in constant remembrance. A cemetery does not diminish life; it enriches it by reminding us of mortality and accountability.

Where Pythagoras fails to grasp the issue is this: an animal can be killed purely out of destructive intent, and in such a case, his argument might hold. But a Muslim does not sacrifice with the intention of destruction, but as an act of worship. For this reason, the meat is not hoarded; it is distributed, often shared with relatives and given to the needy. The same outward act, when driven by different intentions, produces entirely different outcomes.

“I am an animal lover, and I oppose not only sacrifice but also all animal farming and even the domestication of animals in artificial environments. My stance is based on rejecting all hierarchies between species.”

You have shifted the discussion into a very different domain. Still, I will try to respond.

It appears that your motivation is the principle of justice and equality. You want animals not to be wronged. On this, I wholeheartedly agree. However, we differ in certain fundamental assumptions.

I believe we differ mainly on the concept of hierarchy. You assume that every hierarchy inevitably turns into oppression—that whoever is on top will impose their will on those below. I, however, do not accept that hierarchy must necessarily lead to injustice.

For example, Islam acknowledges hierarchy between species, and even among human beings. Prophets are superior to believers, and believers have a responsibility-based distinction over others. Yet neither prophets nor believers are permitted to commit ظلم (oppression). In fact, superiority increases responsibility rather than eliminating it.

The root of our difference lies in belief in God. In our belief system, the highest point of all hierarchy belongs to God, who is just and merciful. Therefore, humans are commanded to act with justice and mercy.

Without this foundation, however, one is left with an abstract idea of equality that cannot actually be realised. Because equality, in its true moral sense, can only be sustained in relation to a shared Creator. Otherwise, the world becomes a place where power defines morality.

“If I understood correctly, you are saying that people who perform sacrifice do not harm animals. But I am saying that they kill them. Can there be a greater harm than killing?”

This is precisely where the issue becomes clear.

What disturbs you most is not merely the killing of animals, but death itself—and witnessing it.

If your concern were purely about animals, you would not suffer so intensely. Animals, unlike humans, do not carry anxieties about past or future. For them, death is not experienced in the same existential way we imagine; it is a natural transition.

But when you witness death, you are also reminded of your own mortality, and this creates a deep psychological and emotional reaction. It is as if the weight of countless deaths in the world falls upon you at once.

In my view, the real issue is not the killing of animals, but the troubled relationship you have formed with the concept of death itself.

Because you interpret death as non-existence, you try both to deny it and to avoid acknowledging it. Yet every living being will taste death.

And believe me, the animals that are sacrificed depart this world with a far more meaningful departure than those that are not.