Minas, Alcohol, and Stigma

In the land of Sinjai, one of the areas of rice fields and mountain mist in South Sulawesi, a tradition lives in liquid form: Minas, a yellowish white drink that flows from tradition. Minas was born from the womb of fermentation, the result of the silent work of microorganisms that transform cassava starch into something more complex, both in taste, aroma, and perception. Served in banquets, passed down from generation to generation, and drunk not to get drunk, but as a complement to social interaction. However, in this biological process, Minas stands between local pride and moral suspicion. There is an old question that continues to haunt our traditional food: is it still considered halal? or has it crossed the boundaries outlined by sharia?

Some people sip it with confidence as a culinary heritage, others swallow it with trepidation, smelling the shadow of alcohol that is considered to be disguised as spiritual poison. And as usual, prejudice sometimes settles faster than facts. The haram label is sometimes thrown very loudly without any study to uncover the reality, so that it is driven more by anxiety than understanding. In fact, fermentation is not a black and white process. It is a biochemical dynamic, where microorganisms convert substrates into new metabolites, and alcohol is only one of the many possible intermediate products.

Scientifically, analysis of various Minas samples shows that its alcohol content is indeed not zero. In several samples that have been analyzed, ethanol levels were found to be above the maximum limit set for non-alcoholic beverages. The figures vary, generally ranging from 0.1% to almost 0.3%. In some cases, the alcohol content can even exceed 1% if the fermentation process takes too long or without adequate control. However, this is not because Minas was deliberately designed to be intoxicating, but rather because of the lack of standardization in production and storage. The alcohol in this product is not the goal, but rather a small consequence that can basically be controlled.

However, it is precisely at this point that the real challenge lurks: not in the microbes that work silently and selflessly to break down starch and compose compounds, but in our perceptions that are sometimes quick to judge. In some circles, the word "fermentation" itself carries a stigma. As if every pungent aroma must be unclean, everything that foams must be forbidden. The nose is sometimes louder in judging than reason, and the tongue is quicker to sneer than the heart has time to understand. As if that is enough to ignite suspicion, without having time to consider whether what we suspect is really worthy of suspicion.

In fact, Islam recognizes fermentation in very noble forms. Vinegar, which the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) called "the best side dish is vinegar" (HR. Muslim), also comes from alcohol, but in a controlled process and ends in a non-intoxicating form. Even in the logic of Islamic jurisprudence, the law of a substance is determined by its final nature, not just its process. As the principle of usul "Al-'ibrah bi al-ma'?n? l? bi al-alf??", what is assessed is the essence, not just the name.

Tempeh and tape are fermented products that we consume without hesitation. So what differentiates them is not the fermentation, but the intention, purpose, and final content. In Islamic jurisprudence, fermentation that is not intended to intoxicate, which has a very low alcohol content and does not have a psychoactive effect, is not automatically categorized as haram. This is in line with the opinion of the fuqaha who state that "everything that intoxicates in large quantities, then a small amount is also haram" (HR. Abu Dawud and Tirmidhi). Although this hadith is often used as a basis for an absolute prohibition on products containing alcohol. However, contemporary scholars explain that what is meant is: if what is consumed is a product from the (special) khamr industry, then it is haram, even if it is a little. On the other hand, the product comes from the non-khamr industry, and if the alcohol content is very small and does not intoxicate even if consumed in large quantities, as is found in various natural fermentation products, then it does not necessarily go beyond the halal corridor. This is the logical basis used by the MUI and many international halal bodies to tolerate alcohol content of <0.5% in non-khamr fermentation products, because this low level is considered not to have an intoxicating effect, is not harmful according to sharia or science, and does not damage reason or consumption etiquette.

Imam Malik once stated that "everything that changes by itself and is unintentional, is not ruled as impure or haram" (al-Mudawwanah al-Kubra). With this logic, alcohol that occurs naturally in very low concentrations from a fermentation process without the intention of intoxicating, is not necessarily rejected outright, but must be weighed objectively based on 'ilm and wisdom.

If we want to save a cultural heritage like Minas, then two steps must be taken, and both must be based on solid scientific and ethical foundations. The first step is the standardization of science-based production processes. This includes a series of approaches that can be applied at the level of local producer communities:

Controlling Fermentation Time: Spontaneous fermentation that lasts too long risks increasing ethanol accumulation. Therefore, it is important to set an optimal fermentation time range, for example no more than 12 - 16 hours at room temperature (around 28 - 30°C), to prevent the dominance of alcohol-producing microbes such as Saccharomyces cerevisiae. Simple testing of alcohol levels can be done with portable tools such as alcohol meters or through spectrophotometric methods in partner laboratories.

Light Heating After Fermentation and Controlled Packaging and Storage: There is a time when microorganisms should stop working, and we need to take over control. Minas, like other living things, does not immediately stop breathing when the fermentation process is complete. In the silence of its liquid, microbes continue their small tasks of forming alcohol, releasing gases, and slowly changing the nature of the drink itself. So, to stop the remaining pulse of fermentation, our warm touch is needed: light heating at a temperature of around 60°C for 10-15 minutes. This temperature is enough to put the microbes to sleep without burning the flavor, enough to seal time without disturbing its essence as a living heritage.

But like a spirit that has not been perfectly rested, Minas that is stored without heating sometimes rebels. Not a few bottles explode, even when stored in the refrigerator. Because cold is not death for microbes, only a light sleep that can be reawakened. The carbon dioxide produced continues to expand, compressing the space, pressing the walls of the container, until it can no longer contain it. The explosion is not just a physical event, but also a metaphor for uncontrolled fermentation: changes that are not given limits will explode in time.

Therefore, storing Minas is not enough just by cooling it. It needs to be calmed first with a gentle fire and enough time. After that, it is framed in the right packaging: a tightly closed container, airtight, and if possible, equipped with a small valve that allows the last gas to escape peacefully, without explosions. Some wise producers let this liquid 'breathe' for a moment in an open container before being packaged as a form of respect for the process that has taken place inside.

Fermentation, in the end, is not just a biochemical work, but a lesson in balance. We learn that something alive needs to be given space to grow, but also a limit to stop. We learn that every transformation, no matter how noble, needs to be guarded so that it does not turn into harm. And Minas with all its nobility and vulnerability teaches us that preserving cultural heritage is not about freezing it in nostalgia, but caring for it with knowledge, patience, and sharpness of taste.

The second step is an educational approach that internalizes knowledge and faith: providing an understanding to the community that fermentation is not synonymous with prohibition, but rather a natural process that can be given direction. That in Islam, everything is judged by its intention and benefit, as the Prophet Muhammad said: "Indeed, deeds depend on their intentions" (HR. Bukhari and Muslim).

We do not have to be suspicious of every cup of tradition, but we also should not underestimate the limits set by the sharia, as if everything natural must be holy. Between the two, there is a quiet space waiting to be filled, a space of dialogue between microbiology and fiqh, between a silent laboratory and a loud pulpit, between farmers who sweat and scholars who weigh with their hearts. If we fill that space with honesty of intention and clarity of knowledge, then Minas will remain alive as a drink that is glorified by history, not to be cast aside because of prejudice, or judged by ignorance.

Fermentation, in truth, is not merely a biochemical event, but can serve as a metaphor for life: how the living changes, how the simple grows into the complex, and how all that overflows must be framed so that it does not spill into disaster. It is a spiritual lesson that all living things must go through a process, and that change will only bring benefits if guarded by knowledge, intention, and manners. So if we guard our intentions, guide them with reason, and wash them with faith, what is born from this fermentation is not doubt, but blessings, God willing. [HF]