Time is Relative

British Summertime: An Illusion

I get to ask a lot of questions about the start/end of British Summertime and the supposed reasons we put our clocks forwards one hour and then back one hour every Spring and Autumn.  There's not much we can do with the Earth's rotation around the sun and the amount of daylight we get depends on how close/further we are away from our winter and summer equinoxes. The continued argument about saving daylight would actually only make sense if by virtue of "springing forwards" and "falling back" we were making an impossible physical alteration by adding more sunlight to our days. What we do in our twice yearly clock adjustments, is create an illusion. The facts remain, that at this time of year, the days get shorter and the nights get longer, and of course because of the Earth's tilt, our northern hemisphere temperatures also drop, creating our long, dark and misty winters. 

So why all the fuss with adjusting the clocks? And for that matter, when we are already contending with temperature changes, harsher weather and adjusting our eyes to the dark, who cares about clocks? Does counting minutes and seconds make us happier or does it add to an already over-stressed society? Can we not challenge this Western notion of  time 'efficiency'? Perhaps, let physics and nature preside over this one.

Time is Relative

Why cannot we take a look back into the history of our ancestors?  After all, the winters were always harsh and there was less daylight (note I am speaking of the Northern European context here - but each society and part of the world would have made their own adjustments) and we exist today inspite of past hardships. As Muslims, there is always this continuing debate around our calendar - notably around Eid and right now, the exact start date for the New Year. I'm now largely of the belief that the 'exact' date/time matters only if you need to do some specific number crunching - maybe if something needs a precise mathematical measurement. For the rest of us - a date - a precise minute - counting time - has got to be fairly arbitary. 

There wisdom of our ancestors meant that 'time' was much more closely matched to our natural patterns. They also 'measured' time, true - Fajr, Zuhar, Asr, Maghrib and Isha were all good markers of the day, and were decided by amount of daylight, but clinical precision was not foremost when talking about time. "See you in the afternoon," meant that people would meet after Asr and before Maghrib, and not precisely at 3.15pm - woe betide anyone arriving for an appointment at 3.16pm. People, (again Northern Europe illustrates this very well) having reaped their harvests in autumn, would conserve their winter energy by getting up at dawn to feed their livestock and retire to their huts when it was dark to drink their hot broths and eat what they had put aside from their summer's stock, sleeping most of the winter out. In other words, over the winter, people had a different working pattern and lived according to the amount of light available. Different stresses, but compare that to waiting at bus stops in the rain trying to get home in the evening rush hour traffic when the world has gone dark. Who are we kidding? What makes that version of 'daylight' saving better and more efficient? 

At this point in the year, there is a collective slow down; hibernation for animals and stocking up for winter are natural phenomena. Apply that also to the human condition; our history bears witness to seasonal variation and not a constant mechanical expectation of the same levels of work output. What's wrong with admitting this? Would most of us not be happier simply to follow the natural patterns of daylight and live accordingly (yes, by working less) rather than attempting to manipulate time in order to drive 'efficiency'?

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Source: izquotes.com

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Malalai of Maiwand

The setting for Dr Watson's injuries (from the Sherlock Holmes stories) was on the Maiwand battlefield, one of the principle battles of the Second Anglo-Afghan War. Whilst the character was clearly fiction, the battle was real and one of the heroes of that battle was a woman, killed on the battlefiled, known as Malalai of Maiwand د معيړند ملالۍ. Although it is Ayub Khan who became known as the Victor of Maiwand, it is said that it was Malalai (or Malala) who actually saved the day.

British sources, unsurprisingly, do not mention Malalai. Her actions may not have been noticed by any of the British, or they may not have seemed as consequential as they were to the Afghans. Afghan women are very rarely mentioned at all so it is interesting that Afghan men who should honour her actions and turn her into a national hero who is still revered today. 

Malalai came from Khig, a small village not far from the Maiwand battlefield, and was the daughter of a shepard. Both her father and fiancée had joined with Ayub's army in the attack on the British on July 27th 1880 (which some say was also her wedding day), and like many women, Malalai was there to help tend to the wounded and provide water and spare weapons. Eventually there came a point in the battle where the Afghan army, despite their superior numbers, started to lose morale and the tide seemed to be turning in favour of the British. Seeing this, Malalai shouted out:

که په میـــوند کـې شهـــید نـــه شـــوی
خدایګو ﻻلـیه بـې ننـګۍ ته دی سـاتینه

"Young love! If you do not fall in the battle of Maiwand,
By God, someone is saving you as a symbol of shame!"

This gave many of the Afghan fighters and ghazis a new resolve and they redoubled their efforts. At that moment one of the leading flag-bearers fell from a British bullet, and Malalai went forward and held up the flag (some versions say she made a flag out of her veil), singing a landay:

خــــال بـــه دیـــار لـــه ویـــنو کیــــږدم
چــــې شینکي باغ کې ګــــل ګلاب وشــــرمویـنه
که په میـــــوند کـــې شهـــید نـــه شـــوی
خــــدایګو ﻻلــــیه بې ننـــګۍ ته دي ســـاتینه

"With a drop of my sweetheart's blood,
Shed in defense of the Motherland,
Will I put a beauty spot on my forehead,
Such as would put to shame the rose in the garden."

But then Malalai was herself struck down and killed. However, her words had spurred on her countrymen and soon the British lines gave way, broke and turned, leading to a disastrous retreat back to Kandahar and the biggest defeat for the Anglo-Indian army in the Second Afghan War. Ayub Khan afterwards gave a special honour to Malalai and she was buried at her village, where her grave can still be found.

 

Malalai - Afghan Heroine of Maiwand by Garen C Ewing licensed under Creative Commons

... On Being "British" ...

I feel like I am being forcibly drawn into a debate that whilst at the one end of my personal spectrum, I actually do care about, but feel much has been said and little done about, and on the other end of my spectrum, I don't give a monkeys over. It's as if I've reached an impasse - I'm secure in myself and I will do what I need to do, live the way that I need to live and all without apology.

The debate in question is this documentary and the suggestion is that, like many northern ex-industrial English cities, Bradford is in economic sink, unpopular and religiously and racially segregated. I hasten to add that whilst I have not yet seen the programme and have no real intention to see it any time soon, this is not the first time this has been said about the place. There's no denying it - the truth is, it feels like an abandoned place and polarisation is very real.

The documentary has as the local council PR people and the regional media in flaps - but something tells me that it is less the reality of racial division and more the fact that it is being discussed in a very public sphere that is ruffling feathers. Ostrich feathers, I may add, since for too long, there has been much denial and the only investment in the city has been mediocrity. That last trait is the one thing that post-Thatcherite Britain finds very difficult in accepting of itself.

The counter claim by the local PR machine is lifted from the text of the Emperors New Clothes. That is, to see what isn't there. The claim, that the city is a culturally diverse place (i.e. melas and curries) - is patronising, at best. This is not London or New York, nor Mumbai, Karachi or Singapore, not that any of those is perfect or has race and equality completely figured. The difference is those places represent something of a melting pot and offer new, emergent identities.

I also don't get what it is to be British. I've tried and not succeeded at understanding this. I don't think many of the 'natives' understand it any better, to be frank. Over the years, I have seen the same liberals and working professionals who claim to love the 'cultural diversity' of places like Bradford, join the white flight to the suburban and semi-rural outskirts, thus decreasing real contact with the immigrants who moved in. They are complicit in the racism. And they are the ones whom I really distrust. The PR people and the media, thus, can in my opinion, jolly well shut up.

Significant numbers of that first wave of Pakistani Kashmiri and Bengali immigrants to British cities lived as the dinosaurs did - completely ill-equipped for the changes that were about to happen next, and it was just as disappointing to see the Brits - at the forefront of cultural contact through the reach of their empire - assume a supposed cultural/moral/racial high ground and reject the opportunity of coexistence with migrants coming in. Neither process of adjustment would have been easy, but without 'white' sticking power, populations just drifted apart. It happens everywhere, not just Europe, but here one feels it so much more than other places. The British response has been worse because they've never truly confronted their own angst and overall, no-one sitting in local or national government has really helped. I thus qualify what I said about this topic in my first paragraph - disconnection keeps me out of the politics, and offers me protection. I live as I do, with my own sense of identity.