How Muslim Prisoners in the U.S. Demand Religious Rights During Ramadan

For 2 billion Muslims worldwide, Ramadan is a sacred time of dawn-to-dusk fasting, prayer, and communal solidarity. But for the thousands of Muslim prisoners in the U.S. and several other countries, the holy month often becomes a battleground for religious rights, as rigid prison policies clash with spiritual obligations.

Despite making up just 1% of the U.S. population, Muslims account for 9% of incarcerated individuals, with over 11,000 held in federal prisons alone. Yet advocates say the system remains unprepared to accommodate their faith, leaving many to navigate Ramadan under conditions that dilute its spiritual essence—or deny it altogether.

Related: New York Prisons Mandated to Offer Halal and Kosher Dietary Choices

A Clash of Schedules and Spirituality
Ramadan’s rhythms—fasting from sunrise to sunset, communal iftars, and nightly prayers—are frequently at odds with prison routines. Inmates describe being forced to break fasts early due to meal schedules or missing Eid al-Fitr celebrations, which marks Ramadan’s end. Others face punitive measures for minor infractions, such as saving food for iftar. In Pennsylvania, one detainee was placed in solitary confinement for keeping oranges in his cell to break his fast.

“Prisons often treat religious practice as an afterthought,” said Corey Saylor, director of research and advocacy at the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR). The organization sees a surge in inmate complaints during Ramadan, many stemming from what Saylor calls a mix of “ignorance, apathy, and outright bias.”

Bureaucratic Hurdles and Legal Battles
In Virginia, incarcerated Muslims have been required to declare their intent to fast four months in advance—a rule that left one recent convert, who embraced Islam a month before Ramadan, facing an impossible choice: starve or abandon his faith. Saylor called such policies “Kafkaesque,” arguing they weaponize bureaucracy to stifle religious freedom.

Legal challenges are mounting. In 2022, Pennsylvania’s Department of Corrections (DOC) faced a lawsuit after revoking a policy allowing inmates to purchase halal meat for Eid meals. The DOC reversed course following a settlement, but advocates like attorney Alexandra Morgan-Kurtz argue the change reflects a grudging compliance rather than genuine understanding. “The DOC often reduces faith to beliefs and prayers, ignoring how food and ritual are inseparable from religious identity,” she said.

The Chaplaincy Gap
A critical shortfall of Muslim chaplains exacerbates these struggles. While 84% of federal prison chaplains are Protestant Christians, they serve a population where only 34% identify with that faith. Muslim inmates are often left to advocate for themselves, navigating requests for prayer rugs, halal meals, or exemptions for medical conditions.

Muhammad Amin Anderson, a former inmate turned chaplain with the Tayba Foundation, recalls studying Islam through smuggled materials during his 33-year sentence. Now, he trains non-Muslim chaplains and helps inmates navigate parole applications. “A Muslim chaplain doesn’t just provide spiritual guidance—they bridge misunderstandings between staff and prisoners,” he said.

Progress and Persistent Challenges
Advocacy groups like CAIR distribute annual guides to prisons, detailing Islamic practices, while the Tayba Foundation offers reentry programs and legal aid. Yet systemic barriers persist. A 2021 DOJ report criticized the Bureau of Prisons for failing to address chaplaincy shortages, despite the growing religious diversity of inmates.

Salahuddin Muhammad, a chaplain at a North Carolina federal prison, spends Ramadan mediating disputes over medical exemptions and fasting schedules. “Islam grants concessions for illness,” he said, “but prison policies often lack the flexibility to honor that.”

As Ramadan begins, incarcerated Muslims face another month of compromise and resilience. For many, the fight to worship freely is as much a part of their faith as fasting itself. “Religious freedom isn’t a privilege,” said Saylor. “It’s a right—one that shouldn’t end at the prison gate.”