The Forgotten History of Sleeping in Two Shifts

Zaria Gorvett. The forgotten medieval habit of ‘two sleeps’. BBC, January 2022

For much of human history, people didn’t sleep through the night in one long stretch. Instead, they slept in two parts: an early “first sleep,” followed by a quiet period of wakefulness around midnight, and then a second sleep until morning. This pattern was so common that people once referred to it casually in court records, letters, and literature.

Historian Roger Ekirch uncovered this forgotten habit while studying life before the Industrial Revolution. He found that the time between sleeps, often called “the watch,” was used for prayer, conversation, chores, or simply reflection. People didn’t see this midnight waking as a problem; it was a normal part of nightly life.

The two-sleep pattern likely existed because nights were long and dark before artificial lighting. People went to bed earlier and woke naturally in the middle of the night. Modern experiments show that when people live without electric light, their sleep often returns to this older rhythm on its own.

Biphasic sleep began to disappear in the 19th century as gas lamps, electric lights, and factory schedules pushed bedtimes later while mornings stayed the same. Sleep became compressed into a single block, and the old pattern faded from memory. Understanding this history may help explain why waking up at night doesn’t always mean something is wrong. For most of human history, it was simply how people slept.

How Our Neighborhoods Shape Our Health

Noaeen, M., Rostami, A., Ghanem, I. et al. Mapping neighbourhood-level drivers of type 2 diabetes for precision public health using predictive and causal machine learning. Sci Rep, January 2026.

Type 2 diabetes is often discussed as a disease of individual lifestyle (diet, exercise, and genetics). But a new study from the University of Toronto reveals a deeper truth: where you live may be just as important as how you live.

Using artificial intelligence and advanced causal modeling, researchers analyzed data from over 1,100 neighborhoods across the Greater Toronto Area. Instead of focusing on individuals, they examined neighborhood-level features such as obesity rates, physical activity, income, age structure, mental health, and work stress. Their goal was not only to predict where diabetes is most common, but also to understand which factors actually drive that risk.

The results were striking. The AI models were able to identify high-diabetes neighborhoods with more than 95% accuracy. The strongest predictors were familiar – high obesity, physical inactivity, and older populations, but the causal analysis uncovered something more surprising: mental health was one of the most powerful protective factors. Neighborhoods with better average mental well-being had substantially lower diabetes rates, even after accounting for income, age, and lifestyle.

Work stress and smoking, on the other hand, were found to raise diabetes risk, highlighting the biological toll of chronic psychological strain. Interestingly, neighborhoods with higher proportions of recent immigrants and visible minorities tended to have lower diabetes prevalence, reflecting the well-known “healthy immigrant effect” and the protective role of social cohesion and cultural practices.

The study suggests a new vision for public health: instead of treating diabetes only in clinics, we should also treat it in communities, through mental-health support, stress reduction, walkable streets, and social infrastructure. In the age of data science, healing may begin not just with the patient, but with the neighborhood.

The Hidden Effects of Living in Space

Wijdan Al-Ahmadi et al., Spaceflight alters molecular networks linked to diverse human diseases in a single cellular model. Sci Adv, January 2026.

When astronauts return from space, many report strange changes. Their hearts beat differently. Their sleep is disturbed. Their vision becomes blurry. Their muscles weaken. For years, scientists have known about these effects, but not fully understood why they happen. A new study gives us a powerful clue by showing what happens inside human cells when they are exposed to space.

In this study, researchers sent human immune cells to the International Space Station and compared them with the same cells grown on Earth. They then examined how thousands of genes behaved in each environment. Nearly one third of all active genes changed their activity in space. This shows that spaceflight does not just cause small damage. It reshapes the way cells function.

Some of the biggest changes were seen in genes linked to the heart and muscles. These genes help control the electrical signals that keep the heart beating normally. In space, they became much more active. On Earth, the same genes are linked to irregular heartbeats, which may help explain why astronauts sometimes develop heart problems during long missions.

The study also found changes in genes that control sleep and the body clock, including those linked to melatonin. This matches the sleep problems many astronauts experience. Genes involved in vision and other senses were also affected, especially those connected to vitamin A and eyesight, helping explain vision changes in space. At the same time, genes that repair damaged DNA were reduced, likely because of cosmic radiation, making cells more vulnerable to long term damage.

These findings suggest that space activates the same biological pathways that cause heart disease, nerve problems, and aging on Earth, but in a much shorter time. By studying life in orbit, scientists may learn not only how to protect astronauts, but also how to better understand illness here on Earth.

The morning mist still clung to the canals as I crossed the Ponte delle Guglie, making my way toward Cannaregio. Venice awakens differently than Rome—my adopted city—with a quieter reverence, as if the stones themselves remember centuries of whispered prayers and muffled conversations. I had come to the Ghetto Nuovo, that small island of memory where humanity first institutionalized separation, where in 1516 the Venetian Republic decreed that all Jews must live within designated boundaries, locked in at night, their movements controlled by day.

As a sociologist of religion who has spent years studying the intersections of faith, culture, and social structure, I recognized in these narrow streets something profound about human nature: our capacity to create both physical and metaphysical boundaries. The Venetian ghetto—from which we derive our modern word—was revolutionary in its systematic approach to segregation. Here was born the first formalized model of urban exclusion that would spread across Europe like a viral architectural concept, appearing in Rome, Prague, Frankfurt, and countless other cities where Jewish communities would be confined until the mid-19th century.

Yet what struck me most forcefully was not the historical weight of these stones, but their contemporary lightness. The gates are gone. The walls have crumbled or been absorbed into the city’s organic growth. Jewish residents are free to live anywhere in Venice—or anywhere in the world. The ghetto as a physical institution has been relegated to history books and tourist brochures.

But have we truly dismantled the ghetto? Or have we simply learned to build more sophisticated versions, invisible to the eye but no less real in their effects?

The architecture of mental separation

Walking through the narrow calli that connect the Ghetto Nuovo to the Ghetto Vecchio, I was confronted by a troubling realization: while we have torn down the physical walls that once confined Jewish communities, we have perhaps become more adept at constructing mental ghettos—invisible barriers that separate communities just as effectively as any medieval decree.

These new ghettos are not built of brick and mortar but of prejudice and assumption, of media narratives and social algorithms that create echo chambers more insidious than any walled enclave. In our contemporary cities—whether Rome, Paris, London, or New York—we witness the emergence of what I call “glass wall communities”: groups that can see each other, that exist in proximity yet rarely engage in meaningful dialogue.

Consider how we live today. Immigrants cluster in certain neighborhoods not by legal mandate but by economic necessity and social comfort. Religious minorities often self-segregate, creating informal ghettos of familiarity. Even our digital lives reflect this pattern—we follow, befriend, and engage with those who confirm our existing beliefs, creating virtual ghettos of the mind that can be more restrictive than any physical boundary.

The challenge is more complex than the original Venetian model because these modern ghettos wear the mask of choice. We tell ourselves that segregation is voluntary, that birds of a feather naturally flock together. But this narrative obscures the structural forces—economic inequality, educational disparities, cultural xenophobia—that make such “choices” inevitable for many.

Lessons from European ghettos

The history of Jewish ghettos across Europe offers sobering insights into how physical separation becomes internalized. In Rome’s ghetto, established in 1555, generations lived within papal-imposed boundaries that created not just physical isolation but psychological adaptation to marginalization. The Frankfurt Judengasse, the Prague Josefov—each represented a different experiment in controlled coexistence, where dominant societies sought to benefit from Jewish commercial skills while maintaining social and religious distance.

What fascinates me as a scholar is how these communities developed remarkable resilience and internal solidarity precisely because of their forced separation. Synagogues, schools, mutual aid societies, and cultural institutions flourished within confined spaces, creating rich micro-societies that preserved and innovated Jewish life even under oppressive conditions.

But this historical pattern raises uncomfortable questions about our contemporary moment. Are we creating conditions where different communities develop in parallel rather than in dialogue? When Muslims, Christians, Jews, and secular populations live in separate social spheres—attending different schools, consuming different media, socializing within homogeneous networks—do we risk reproducing the isolation that physical ghettos once imposed?

Venice as a model of possibility

Yet standing again in the campo of the former ghetto, observing the steady stream of visitors—Jewish and non-Jewish, local and international—I was reminded of Venice’s unique capacity for transformation. The city that invented the ghetto has also, perhaps, pointed toward its transcendence.

Today, the Ghetto Nuovo and Ghetto Vecchio host five active synagogues representing different Jewish traditions—Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Italian, Levantine, and German. The Museo Ebraico tells the story not just of Jewish Venice but of the complex relationships between communities across centuries. Kosher restaurants and bakeries serve both observant Jews and curious visitors. The workshops of contemporary Jewish artists open their doors to dialogue about identity, memory, and creativity.

This transformation speaks to something essential about Venice itself—a city that has always been, by geographical and commercial necessity, a place of encounter. Built on trade routes between East and West, between Christian Europe and the Islamic world, Venice learned early that diversity could be economically profitable even when socially challenging.

Toward dialogue and understanding

As an activist for interfaith dialogue, I see in Venice’s former ghetto a powerful metaphor for our contemporary challenge. The physical walls are gone, but the work of building bridges across the mental barriers that divide us has only just begun. The experience of integration—or experience of community building in a diverse society—requires more than the absence of legal segregation; it demands the presence of intentional encounter.

What would our cities look like if we designed them for dialogue rather than division? If our schools, our neighborhoods, our public spaces were conceived as laboratories for cross-cultural understanding rather than comfort zones for homogeneous groups?

The Venice ghetto suggests that such transformation is possible. A place born from exclusion can become a space of inclusion. Walls built to separate can be transformed into bridges that connect. But this requires conscious effort—the kind of patient, persistent work that turns strangers into neighbors, neighbors into friends, and friends into collaborators in building more just and inclusive communities.

Conclusion: The ongoing journey

As I prepared to leave the ghetto that morning, crossing back over the bridge toward the broader city, I carried with me a sense of both hope and urgency. Venice, this impossible city built on water and sustained by centuries of calculated risk-taking, reminds us that human communities are not fixed entities but ongoing projects, constantly under construction.

The ghetto walls may have fallen, but the work they represented—the work of learning to live together across differences—continues in every generation. Whether in Rome, where I make my home among the seven hills and countless communities, or in Venice, where water and stone create spaces for both separation and connection, we face the same fundamental choice: Will we build walls or bridges? Will we create ghettos of the mind or communities of the heart?

The answer lies not in grand gestures but in daily acts of encounter—in the decision to cross the bridge, to enter an unfamiliar neighborhood, to listen to a story different from our own. In these small acts of courage, we honor both the memory of those who were confined by walls and the possibility of those who will be freed by our choices.

Venice teaches us that even the most entrenched systems of separation can be transformed. The question is whether we have the wisdom and will to continue that transformation in our own time and place.

Traditional wisdom holds the wheel to be one of mankind’s cleverest inventions and the camel to be one of God’s clumsiest (Richard W. Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel, NY: Columbia University Press, 1990, 7). Yet this is the creature that has affected history as much as the horse: the horse was fundamentally the servant of the warrior, the camel of the merchant (James Wellard, Samarkand and Beyond: A History of Desert Caravans. London: Constable, 1997, 30).

Wheeled vehicles and ships were known in the Middle East since before Roman times. They served different segments of the “transportation industry.” Ships could carry the heavy loads that animal transportation could not. However, the camel was used more than a ship and replaced the wheel as a matter of practicality. The wheel’s associated vocabulary had disappeared sometime prior to the seventh century Islamic conquests in the region. For example, it has been noted that records of the Crusades in the Middle East never mention carts and wagons (Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel, 9).

Camel caravans are slow. The fully loaded pack camel can, at the limit, march only for thirty miles a day for three or four days without watering (Wellard, Samarkand and Beyond, 31) A caravan, however, could travel difficult routes and get to its destination where a ship, a wheeled cart, or a wagon could not. Between 300 and 1300 CE, the caravans carried goods more cheaply, more quickly, and with less seasonal interruption than any other form of transportation (William H. McNeill, “The Eccentricity of Wheels, or Eurasian Transportation in Historical Perspective” in The American Historical Review, Vol. 92, 1987).

Perhaps because Muhammad was a merchant camel driver before he became the Prophet, trade has always been valued in the Islamic world. This paper argues that even though there was marine activity, the camel became the prime means of transportation in the Middle East and surrounding areas, ultimately resulting in distribution of wealth in the early and medieval Islamic Empire. The preference for the camel over the wheel is a good example of technology not always triumphing over nature.

As mentioned earlier, the Middle East had transportation other than on the land: Arabs were wonderful seafarers. They sailed the Mediterranean since the beginning of Islam. They also sailed the Indian Ocean and made contact with India and China. Articles of Indian manufacturer are found in Babylonia (George F. Hourani, Arab Seafaring in the Indian Ocean and in Ancient and Early Medieval Times, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1951).

Despite this, the Arabs have always been traditionally skeptical about seafaring. Even the fearless general Amr ibn Al-As, who conquered Palestine and Egypt in 640 CE said: “There is little trust and great fear. Man at sea is like an insect on a splinter of wood – always in danger of being swallowed up by the waves and always frightened to death.” On rivers, however, there were no such misgivings. The Nile, for instance, has been used for traffic from time immemorial (Walter M. Weiss, Kurt-Michael Westermann, E.T. Balic, Lorna Dale, The Bazaar: Markets and Merchants of the Islamic World. New York: Thames and Hudson, 1998, 30).

But there were also practical reasons for ships not being the dominant form of transportation, not the least the geography of their homeland. The Arabian Peninsula has no navigable rivers or natural harbors, and the hinterland is not populated. The razor-sharp coral reefs along its coasts are hazardous to shipping. Nor does it have any of the raw materials necessary for shipbuilding: wood or resin or flax for canvas sails. Another reason was the technology. The Arabs had introduced the triangular “Latin” sail to the Mediterranean and invented the stern rudder, but unlike the Europeans and Chinese, they joined their ships’ planks together with ropes made of coconut fiber and not with nails (there was a legend that a magnetic mountain under the sea draws nails out of the wood). This made them much less durable, especially if there was a storm at sea (Weiss et al. The Bazaar, 31).

One reason ships were never truly competitive with the camel was piracy. In sailing down from the Persian Gulf, one had to be aware of pirates (and also of various reefs in the sea) from al-Bahrayn, Qatar, and the Iranian coast. The pirates raided widely over the Indian Ocean, even occasionally as far as the mouth of the Tigris, the southern part of the Red Sea, and the costs of Ceylon. For defense against them, merchant ships had to carry marines trained to throw Greek fire, a combustible compound emitted by a flame-throwing weapon and used to set light to enemy ships. It ignited on contact with water and was probably based on naphtha and quicklime (Hourani, Arab Seafaring, 69). Another reason ships were outdone by the camel was that camels could travel inland to places where ships could not go.

Camels can go a week without water and a month without food. A thirsty camel can drink 25 to 30 gallons of water at one go. For protection against sandstorms, Bactrian camels have two sets of eyelids and eyelashes. The extra eyelids can wipe sand like windshield wipers. Their nostrils can shrink to a narrow slit to keep out blowing sand. Long-distance transport was what camels excelled in, plodding day after day cross-country, almost regardless of the quality of grazing available to them along the way (McNeill, “The Eccentricity of Wheels,” 1987). The camel is thus the animal par excellence of the open desert (Carlton S. Coon, Caravan: The Story of the Middle East, NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1958, 191).

Weighing more than 1,500 pounds, adult camels can reach a height of 6 feet at their shoulders and 7 feet at their humps. Camels have two hoofed toes on each foot, under which a leathery pad links the two toes. When camels walk, they spread their toes as wide apart as possible to prevent their feet from sinking into the sand. The tough, leathery pads under their feet also allow camels to walk on stony, rough ground. Camels are nicknamed (ironically, considering that sailing was a viable form of transportation) “ships of the desert” because mimics the side-to-side roll of a boat: they move both feet on one side of their bodies, then both feet on the other.

Evidence shows that the camel became domesticated in the Middle East around the late Bronze Age (1200 BCE). Camels replaced wheeled vehicles apparently after the third and before the seventh century CE (Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel, 16). The camel’s great virtues include the ability to carry substantial loads–400-500 pounds–and their well-known capacity for surviving in arid conditions. The question is: why did the camel (one-humped) replace the wheeled vehicle as a standard means of transportation throughout virtually the entire range from Morocco to Afghanistan? (Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel, 8). The use of the camel as the dominant means of transporting goods over much of Inner Asia is in part a matter of economic efficiency–as Richard Bulliet has argued, camels are cost-efficient compared with the use of carts requiring the maintenance of roads.

In the desert sands, the Arabs were indisputably masters. Long before the emergence of Islam, the Bedouin, traveling to grazing grounds at night, had become familiar with the constellations and could identify more than 250 stars. The Arabs had begun to use camels rather than carts for transportation. Camels were more useful because they adapted to any terrain and were better able to cross obstacles such as fords or passes, making surfaced roads like those built by the Persians and Romans superfluous (Weiss et al., The Bazaar, 8). The economic and cultural geography of Africa and, to a lesser degree, of central Asia was profoundly altered when camel caravans made the deserts penetrable. The realm of Islam became capable of spanning barren deserts in the same way that European civilization later became capable of spanning vast oceans (McNeill, “The Eccentricity of Wheels”, 1116). In the early days, the land-routes were used much more than sea-routes, which was neither favored nor trusted and was used only when absolutely necessary. Transport by camels across the desert was reckoned a far safer and more trustworthy method of conveyance than that by ship, and it was mostly by means of caravans that the products of India, Arabia, and even central Africa were dispatched from Arabia to Babylonia, to Syria, to Egypt, or even much farther to north and to west (M. Rostovtzeff, Rostovtzeff, Caravan Cities. Translated by D. Rice, and T. Talbot. Oxford: The Clarendon Press. 1932, 3).

The western route, which brought spices of India and the incense of Hadramawt to the high-storied cities of Yemen, passed through ‘Asir and the Hijaz. Mecca was one stop, Medina another. Higher up, the route forked the west branch leading to the Mediterranean, the east to the Damascus, Homes-Hama-Aleppo string of cities. During this period, the influence of south Arabia was dominant in the rest of the peninsula (Coon, Caravan, 62).

The bazaar, a market in a Middle Eastern country, is a unique achievement of Islamic culture, but the fundamental impulse that inspired it–to trade and barter for profit–is, of course, as old as the human race. Caravans created wealth for the cities and stops along their travels. In the bigger towns, the larger caravans stayed for a while, resting and fattening up their animals, purchasing new animals, relaxing, and selling or trading goods. To meet their needs were banks, exchange houses, trading firms, markets, brothels, and places where one could smoke hashish and opium. Some of these caravan stops, such as Samarkand and Bukhara (cities in modern Uzbekistan) became rich cities (Wellard, Samarkand, 81).

With camel trade, as the Ottomans conquered important parts of Asia Minor, the Karimis (Muslim merchant traders) expanded their trading activities into this area. In Africa, they traded not only on the west coast of the Red Sea, but also on the caravan routes with Nubia and Ethiopia. Their trading activities reached into distant Ghana and Mali, where from the most important gold mines in the world they obtained gold (Subhi Y. Labib, “Capitalism in Medieval Islam” in The Journal of Economic History, Vol. 29, No. 1, The Tasks of Economic History, 82). Steady traffic and the relative safety of the roads contributed considerably to the growth of trade (Labib, “Capitalism,” 35).

Intimate symbiosis between urban and nomadic elements in Middle Eastern society was, in fact, an essential substructure for smooth operation of the caravan transport network. A caravan was seldom far away from populated places, and caravans concentrated wealth in a way that tempted innumerable plunderers (McNeill, “The Eccentricity,” 1119).

Between towns and oases people on long caravans often slept in yurts or under the stars. However, the rest houses and stores that Cyrus the Great (600-530 BC) built along the long-distance route, which we now call by the later Turkish name caravanserais, were far from superfluous. In fact, their numbers increased as trade developed. A caravanserai was a roadside inn where travelers (caravaners) could rest and recover from the day’s journey. As stopping places for caravans, caravanserais offered lodging, stables, and food. They were not all that different from guesthouses used by backpackers today except that people were allowed to stay for free. Owners made their money from charging fees for animals and selling meals and supplies. Caravanserais supported the flow of commerce, information and people across the network of trade routes covering Asia, North Africa and Southeast Europe, especially along the Silk Road. The towns that housed them also prospered (Weiss et al., “The Bazaar,” 58).

The cradle of Islamic capitalism was in the main of the Islamic world. In the early Middle Ages, Baghdad was the commercial metropolis and exerted a marked influence over the whole of Islamic big business. As mentioned earlier, commercial ship navigation also contributed to Baghdad’s wealth. The Euphrates was connected with the Tigris by several navigable canals, of which Nahir ‘Isa terminated at Baghdad (Hourani, Arab Seafaring, 64).

With the tenth century, however, the weight of Islamic commerce was gradually shifted to sailing from Iraq and the Persian Gulf to Egypt, the Red Sea, and the harbor of the Arabian Peninsula on the Indian Ocean. Cairo became the leading city (Labib, “Capitalism,” 81).

Thus, maritime activities contributed to local wealth, but not as much as camel caravans. For example, Siraf, on the coast of Iran, south of Shiraz, like Aden in Arabia was hot and barren and lived on supplies brought by sea; its existence was due entirely to its sea commerce (Hourani, Arab Seafaring, 69). Camels were unable to carry extremely heavy loads such as logs and large grain shipments, and merchants had to rely on ships for this type of transportation. Typical merchandise carried by camels was commodities such as wool, cotton fabrics, tea, spices, myrrh, incense, and occasionally opium.

Mecca was the last of the great caravan cities. It probably began as a tribal shrine, with perhaps a surrounding encampment. Mecca produced nothing; it consumed only negligible quantities of the incense and spices that were a staple of the trade; and there was no natural resource such as a river to require transshipment (Bulliet, The Camel and the Wheel, 105). The main caravans, one in the summer and one in the winter, were communal undertakings in which all the tribes took part. Mecca and Medina were not only the holy places of Islam, but also the cradle of its culture, its business, and its government (Labib, “Capitalism,” 79).

Innovation and keeping up with new developments are part of human nature. Although the obsession with technology might be considered “modern,” it is not really. The ancients invented many things such as the stirrup, ships, and Greek flame throwers, and undoubtedly took pride in being up-to-date and to use a twentieth century word “competitive” with the latest technology.

On the other hand, the reversion of the Middle East to the “technology” of the camel as a prime means of transport instead of the seemingly more advanced wheeled carts was an anomaly, driven, as has been shown, by practicality and cost. It can be argued that the geography of the area was also a consideration, as it impacts distance and accessibility, commonly the most basic considerations affecting transportation costs.

But things change with time. The trans-Saharan caravans of up to 24,000 camels, covering distances of several thousand kilometers, finally seemed to come to an end at the beginning of the 20^th century. There were many reasons, all connected with the growing influence of the European powers in the north and west (Weiss et al., The Bazaar, 31). The system was seriously endangered by the catastrophic drought there in the late 1960s and when rainfall was at a record low in the beginning of the 1980s, salt caravans were stopped the government replaced them with trucks. An age-old tradition had finally died out or so it seemed. But in 1986, the old mode of transport was revived, as though it had been brought to a temporary halt by the climate. Once again, the camel had triumphed (Weiss et al., The Bazaar, 31). That camels lasted as long as they did is a testament to the belief that what is “modern” and “technological” is not always the best.

References

https://www.edhelper.com/AnimalReadingComprehension_25_1.html).

For more than six hundred years, from 1300 until 1922, the Ottoman Empire ruled over a religiously diverse population. For the duration of its entire existence the state exhibited exceptional tolerance and permissiveness regarding religious freedom, much more so than other countries of the time. The Ottoman state practiced these Islamic values with remarkable genuineness for the majority of its rule, with the exception being in the decline of the Ottoman state (19^th century), when religious tolerance was used as a means for resecuring state authority and loyalty. To be able to understand how the Ottomans excelled in tolerance, one has to consider how they upheld Islamic principles and values concerning Muslims’ relationship with non-Muslims as prescribed in the Qur’an and Prophet Muhammad’s example.

Multiculturalism and tolerance in Islam

Islam is firmly rooted in acceptance and respect of other cultures as evidenced in many Qur’anic verses and events in Muhammad’s life, like the Medina Charter and Farewell Sermon. The Medina Charter, for instance, was a contract Muhammad established to bring peace to Medina where he found himself in the role of community arbitrator. This was a sharp contrast from the context in Mecca, where his preaching of new revelation had him marked as an enemy of the establishment in Mecca.

In Medina (known as Yathrib at the time) there were two powerful tribes: the Aws, and the Khazraj. The pair were strong and forceful, idol worshipers, and in constant conflict and battle [1]. Also present in Medina were a large number of Jews, though they did not have the influence and power that the Aws and Khazraj did. When Muhammad arrived in Medina at the invitation of the community leaders in 622 AD, he developed the Medina Charter; a pact between all the major groups of the city [2].

The Medina Charter was intended to ensure the collective security of the Aws, Khazraj, and Jews, as well as Muslims who had now arrived. The document served as a defense pact for the city in order to serve the greater good of Medina. Since Muhammad held all of the groups agreeing to the pact as equals it has since been hailed as a milestone and model for multiculturalism. There are significant messages of community and cooperation in the document, as found explicitly in “the Jews of the B. ‘Auf are one community with the believers, (the Jews have their religion and the Muslims have theirs)” [3]. In this Charter, Muslims and Jews are commanded to “help the other… [and] seek mutual advice and consultation” [4]. In demanding that the two groups both aid each other and come together to form solutions, he is revealing firstly that he does regard the Jews with respect and equality; and secondly that he (and the early Muslims) can look beyond differences of religion and culture for the insurance of their security and welfare.

Looking at religious texts and models in Islam, the Qur’an contains numerous verses relevant to pluralism and acceptance. Two relevant verses are “there is no compulsion in religion,”[5] which implies that nobody can forcibly be converted to Islam, and “we have honored the Children of Adam, and We have… provided them with At-Tayyibat (lawful good things),”[6] which describes how the Muslims have honored all people, because of their belief that all of humanity come the same origin, stemming from Adam and Eve.

Muhammad’s Final Sermon is his legacy for Islam. In this sermon he reiterated the idea that all of humanity originates from the same people with the words “all mankind is from Adam and Eve. An Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab, nor does a non-Arab have any superiority over an Arab; white has no superiority over black, nor does a black have any superiority over a white” [7]. Some of the values Prophet Muhammad wanted Muslims to adopt were those of equality and that there is no superiority of any race over another because of the fact that all of the human race originated from two people. Also present in the sermon are messages of benevolence and kindness. “Hurt no one so that no one may hurt you,” and “you will neither inflict nor suffer any inequality” [8] are intended to ensure that Muslims treat others with respect and dignity. With his final sermon Prophet Muhammad took one final opportunity to ensure that Muslims understood that equality is inherent to Islam.

Muhammad did not just preach about tolerance, he practiced it as well. Suffering years of persecution from the Quraysh, the Muslims would have been expected to retaliate for the violence against him according to Arabian tribal customs which operated on an “eye for an eye” philosophy. Instead, when Muslims came to Mecca, Muhammad promised lenience and mercy for anyone who agreed to stop fighting the Muslims regardless of their past actions. The Quraysh, upon seeing the Muslim’s true message and intention, did not resist their entrance into Mecca. Keeping his promise after he entered the city, Muhammad ensured that the “conquest” of Mecca was bloodless and non-violent, demonstrating his commitment to peace and tolerance [9].

Ottoman practice of Islamic values: The Millet system

The Ottoman Empire acted politically in accordance with the Islamic values that Muhammad demonstrated in the Medina Charter. The millet, which is translated as “nation” in English, referred to the autonomous communities under the Ottoman Empire based on their religious traditions [10]. While the Ottomans did divide groups based on their religious identities, they did so with careful attention to differences and divisions. Evidence of this is the different Armenian millets: the Georgian Armenians, Catholic Armenians, and Protestant Armenians. This breakdown demonstrates that the Ottomans understood the different beliefs and values of each group and prevented sectarian divides and conflicts [11].

The dominant millet, or religiously defined community, were the Muslim Turks. In spite of the dominance of the Muslim Turks, non-Muslim subjects in the empire possessed almost equal rights. The Ottoman state insured that the members of the non-Muslim millets had security of life and property, and freedom of religion and work, provided that they did not interfere with the governing of the state or the lives of the Muslim population. The non-Muslim millets were also granted the legal right to use their own language; develop their own educational institutions, religious or cultural; collect taxes; and establish their own court systems. With their own court system, millets could produce their own legal doctrines and try members of their millet provided that the offense concerned members of the relevant millet only and was minor. If the issue was concerning public order or criminal law the matter would be dealt with in accordance with Islamic law. The non-Muslim millets also possessed a large degree of autonomy in matters of family law, such as birth, marriage, death, and inheritance. As aforementioned, the non-Muslim millets possessed almost equal rights. These groups were forbidden from bearing arms and riding horses, and were also mandated to wear hats and shoes of certain colors which corresponded with their millet [12].

The millet system can be likened to the Medina Charter for they both facilitated coexistence of different groups under one administration while still enjoying respective freedoms of religious practice and legal autonomy. The millet system itself, and the religious tolerance that is inherent in its creation, also reflects Muhammad’s idea that “the Jews have their religion and the Muslims have theirs” because both with the Ottomans and Muhammad, religious differences are respected for the greater good of the community. The Ottomans were faithful to Muhammad’s command for the Jews and Muslims to “seek mutual advice and in the Medina Charter” as they allowed millets to elect their own leaders as long as the Ottomans approved of him. This leader then represented the millet and voiced their interests to the state [13].

Ottoman religious tolerance with the millet system is even more significant when compared to other states and empires and their tolerance of alternative faiths. In 1492, the Spanish kingdom issued the Alhambra Decree which expelled all Jews from its lands. The edict ordered all “Jews and Jewesses of our kingdoms to depart and never to return or come back to them,” taking with them their “sons and daughters, menservants and maidservants, [and] Jewish familiars,” returning “neither temporarily on the way to somewhere else nor in any other manner.” The Jews were allowed to leave with their possessions, though, “as long as they do not export gold or silver or coined money.” The Spanish justified this because “every day it is found and appears that the said Jews increase in continuing their evil and wicked purpose wherever they live and congregate” [14].

Sixty-three years later, Catholic Pope Paul IV issued “Cum Nimis Absurdum,” which read “it is completely senseless and inappropriate to be in a situation where Christian piety allows the Jews… access to our society and even to live amongst us.” The Pope was upset that the Jews “manage[d] to claim superiority,” “instead of slavery, which they deserve.” Because of this, he issued a new code of behavior for the Jews, mandating that “for the rest of time, in… [the] domains of the Church of Rome… all Jews are to live in only one [quarter] to which there is only one entrance and from which there is but one exit,” with only one synagogue allowed in each quarter. The rest of the synagogues were “to be destroyed and demolished.” In addition to the new restrictions of their community, Jews could no longer “incriminate Christians in any way,” “play, eat or fraternize with Christians,” or perform any occupation other than rag-picking [15].

Tolerance of the Sultans

Smaller, though significant examples of Ottoman tolerance can be found in the actions of the sultans [16]. Following the Ottoman’s conquest of Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1463, Sultan Mehmet II issued an Ahdnama, an imperial document concerning rights and protections. Mehmet II assures the Bosnian Franciscans that they are in his “good graces,” and proves this to be true, as he wrote: “Let nobody bother or disturb those who are mentioned, nor their churches… let them dwell in peace… and be safe… let them settle down their monasteries without fear in all the countries of my empire.” Mehmet II did not just extend his good will, he also ensured that “neither my royal highness, nor my viziers or employees, nor my servants, nor any of the citizens of my empire shall insult or disturb them,” explicitly forbidding any members of the empire, regardless of their rank, to act against the Bosnian Franciscans [17].

Twenty-nine years after Sultan Mehmet II’s acceptance and blessing of the Christians, Sultan Bayezid II sent the Ottoman navy to the rescue of the Jews that were expelled from Spain with the aforementioned Alhambra Decree of 1492. The sultan also sent representatives to all of his European provinces with orders to ensure that the Jews received a welcome and friendly reception from their hosts. Bayezid II even went as far as to punish with death penalty anyone that refused to accept the Jews into the empire or treated them harshly [18].

Ottoman decline and disingenuous tolerance

The Ottomans entered a period of decline in 1600s that would eventually result in its collapse after World War 1. During this period while many territories were being lost to the Europeans, the Empire was also not able to take steps for economic, industrial, and political progress. To reverse the downturn, several reforms were introduced to modernize the state. The Rescript of Gülhane in 1839 and the Rescript of Reform in 1856 guaranteed security of life, honor, and fortune, and standardized taxes and military service. The second Rescript has a bigger focus on religions other than Islam and is much more oriented towards clarifying the specific rights of Christians and Jews [19]. In this document, there is also a push for “the formation of roads and canals to increase the facilities of communication and increase the sources of the wealth,” which will be done through “profit by the science, the art, and the funds of Europe” [20]. The introduction of taking loans from Europe evidences the Ottoman decline as well, because the state was unable to collect sufficient capital internally.

All of the reforms made under both the Rescript of Gülhane and the Rescript of Reform paralleled Western values, and even ape them in some cases. Included in this rather vain attempt at restoration were the Ottoman reforms on the freedom of religion, making it a means to an end, just as the rest of the reforms were. This was a distinct departure from earlier Ottoman policies and actions. With the millet system and the actions of the sultans, the state was performing genuine tolerance and acceptance. The acceptance of religious minorities was casual, standard, and expected, and had its foundation in Islam, particularly in Qur’anic verses related to tolerance, the Medina Charter and Muhammad’s conduct with non-Muslims. Later, as the Ottoman Empire began to decay and lose authority, the religious tolerance became written law with the Rescripts, as they felt it necessary to explicitly state what had already been happening for centuries as a way of proving their currency and parallel with the West. This made the religious tolerance a means to an end. In spite of this disingenuous tolerance at the end of the Ottoman Empire, for more than six hundred years it managed to rule a diverse population, and did so with more respect and sensitivity than most other states of the time, providing a testament to the sympathy and understanding that are at the core of Islam.

Notes

1. The tribal system in Arabia in the seventh century promoted retaliation for offenses against the tribe, resulting in cycles of conflict.
2. Azzam, Leila and Gouverneur, Aisha, The Life of the Prophet Muhammad, (Edmonton, 2019). 39-45.
3. Muhammad, Medina Charter, 622 a.d., in In The Life of Muhammad: A Translation of Ishaq’s Sirat Rasul Allah, A. Guillaume (Karachi: Oxford, 1978), section 25.
4. Ibid. Section 37.
5. Muhammad Taqi-ud Din Al-Hilali and Muhammad Muhsin Khan, eds., Interpretation of the Meanings of the Noble Qur’an: in the English Language (New York, 2010), 2:256.
6. Al-Halali, Interpretations of the Meanings, 17: 66-70.
7. Muhammad, Farewell Sermon, 632 a.d. https://isaugusta.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/The-fare well-sermon.pdf, 2.
8. Ibid, 1.
9. Azzam, The Life of the Prophet, 68-71.
10. Ceylan, Ebubekir, “The Millet System in the Ottoman Empire,” in New Millennium Perspectives in the Humanities, ed. Judi Upton-Ward (Istanbul: Faith University, 2002), 248-250.
11. Ibid, 256.
12. Ibid, 250-251.
13. Ceylan, “The Millet System in the Ottoman Empire,” 251.
14. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, Edict of the Expulsion of the Jews, 1492, http://www.sephardicstudies.org/decree.html.
15. Pope Paul IV, Cum Nimis Absurdum, 1555. https://www.ccjr.us/dialogika-resources/primary-texts-from-the-history-of-the-relationship/paul-iv. ‘Ragpicking,’ refers to collecting garbage from the streets.
16. “Sultan” has Arabic origins as a spiritual or moral authority. In this context, it refers to the political leader of the Ottoman Empire. See https://www.britannica.com/topic/sultan-Islamic-title.
17. Mehmet II, Ahdnama of Mehmet II, 1463.https://niagara.instructure.com/courses/16790/files/folder/Weekly%20Readings?preview=1116587.

18. “Sultan Bayezid II Welcomes Jewish Refugees from Spain,” History of Information, accessed December 10, 2020, https://www.historyofinformation.com/detail.php?id=2346.
19. Abdulmejid I, Rescript of Reform, 1856.
20. Ibid.

Bibliography

• Abdulmejid I. The Rescript of Gulhane, 1839. https://www.anayasa.gen.tr/gulhane.htm.
• Abdulmejid I. The Rescript of Reform, 1856. https://www.anayasa.gen.tr/reform.htm.
• Al-Hilali, Muhammad Taqi-ud Din and Khan, Muhammad Muhsin, eds. Interpretation of the Meanings of the Noble Qur’an: in the English Language. New York: Darussalam, 2010.
• Armstrong, Karen, Islam: a Short History. New York: Modern Library, 2002.
• Azzam, Leila and Gouverneur, Aisha, The Life of the Prophet Muhammad. Edmonton: Al Rashid Mosque, 2019. https://alrashidmosque.ca/wp-ontent/uploads/2019/05/The-Life-of-The-Prophet-Muhammad.pdf.
• Ceylan, Ebubekir. “The Millet System in the Ottoman Empire.” In New Millennium Perspectives in the Humanities, edited by Judi Upton-Ward, 245-266. Istanbul: Faith University, 2002.
• King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. Edict of the Expulsion of the Jews, 1492. Translated by Edward Peters, 2002. http://www.sephardicstudies.org/decree.html.
• Mehmet II. Ahdnama of Mehmet II, 1463.https://niagara.instructure.com/courses/16790/files/folder/Weekly%20Readings?preview=1116587.
• Muhammad. Farewell Sermon, 632 a.d.. https://isaugusta.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/The-farewell-sermon.pdf.
• Muhammad. Medina Charter, 622 a.d.. In The Life of Muhammad: A Translation of Ishaq’s Sirat Rasul Allah, A. Guillaume. Karachi, Oxford, 1978, p. 231-233.
• Pope Paul IV. Cum Nimis Absurdum, 1555. https://www.ccjr.us/dialogika-resources/primary-texts-from-the-history-of-the-relationship/paul-iv.
• “Sultan Bayezid II Welcomes Jewish Refugees from Spain.” History of Information. Accessed December 10, 2020. https://www.historyofinformation.com/detail.php?id=2346.

He does not have a familiar name like Nicolaus Copernicus, Roger Bacon, or Galileo, but Ibn al-Haytham’s name is the reason that those aforementioned scientists carry the weight that they do today.

A product of the Islamic Golden Age, Ibn al-Haytham dedicated his entire life to making sense of the world and improving the scientific understanding of many disciplines that we take for granted. Also known as “Alhacen” or “Alhazen” and by too few, the “Father of Modern Optics,” (Tbhaki, Amr, ASM) his work influenced the likes of many scholars after him such as Isaac Newton and René Descartes. Although he is revered by some, al-Haytham has by no means received the attention in history that he deserves, as is the case of many ancient Muslim scientists who were overshadowed by the European Renaissance. “(The) likes of these great scientists, philosophers, and artists lived their worthy existence and influenced Europe in a variety of ways” (Ali, p. 162).

Professor George Saliba of Columbia University has said that “Ibn al-Haytham is universally acknowledged to be one of, if not the most creative scientist Islamic civilization has ever known” (www.light2015.org).

Al-Hassan Ibn al-Haytham (www.ibnalhaytham.com) was born in Basra, modern day Iraq in the year 965. When al-Haytham was born, it was the “golden age” of the Muslim world, a progressive Islamic period of innovation and communication that has been widely forgotten in history. It was a period which, though widely unbeknownst today, served as the seedbed of new ideas and scholarly endeavor that would be the starting points for many scientific research during the European Renaissance centuries later.

During this “Muslim zenith both in arts and sciences, in agriculture, geography, and warfare,” (Ali, p. 162) the Middle East was far more advanced than anywhere else in the world. Sparkling and populated cities such as Baghdad, Basra, and Cairo emerged as symbols of rapid progression and centers of learning. Scholars, scientists, philosophers, and mathematicians flocked from near and far to trade and study in the Middle East. “It should not be forgotten that Arab civilization played an essential role in the circulation and development of ideas and in the progress of knowledge” (Rius-Pinies, p. 97).Trade routes expanded and were crowded with people traveling to and from Middle Eastern territory. This helped spread the word of all these wonderful discoveries that were taking place in the prosperous hotspots of the Muslim world and attracted copious amounts of people to visit popular cities, meet intriguing figures, and to add their own contributions to what very well may have been one of the first historical melting pots on the planet.

There is a lot of speculation around the life of Ibn al-Haytham due to the lack of available evidence and written records regarding his life. To account for the seventy-five years he lived on Earth, there are very few stories that have been shared, even fewer with consistent details. One of these stories that has been mostly agreed upon by scholars is one that has had the largest implications on his life. Ibn al-Haytham had offered his services to Al-Hakim bi-Amr Allah, the Egyptian Caliph during this period. His mission was to devise a way in which he could control the flow of the Nile River, which had caused issues to surrounding areas of Egypt due to uncontrolled flooding. He realized later on that his strategy of a water dam would not be successfully actualized. The Egyptian Caliph was known for his unusually cruel and brutal treatment of his subjects (Tbakhi, Amr, ASM). So, true to his nature, when al-Haytham was unable to produce a solution to the problem he had set out to solve, the Caliph was filled with rage and aimed to bring consequence to al-Haytham. Accounts differ as to whether he was actually jailed or in hiding, but the consistency in this story is that al-Haytham outsmarted the Caliph by convincing him that he was mentally ill so that his life would be spared, a unique twist of fate that our modern world has greatly benefited from. Whether he was under house arrest or hiding away from the vengeful Caliph’s wrath, it was during this period of seclusion that al-Haytham wrote his most famous and influential work, the Book of Optics or “Kitab al-Manazir” as well as a multitude of additional works on various subjects (Tbakhi, Amr, ASM).

In one of the very few traceable direct quotes al-Haytham says, “If learning the truth is the scientist’s goal… then he must make himself the enemy of all that he reads” (www.ibnalhaytham.com). His opinions on experimentation, the need for scientific proof, and the importance in the experimental process have, over time, shaped the way that scientists operate and effectively prove their findings. “One of the characteristics that make Ibn al-Haytham a modern scientist is that his scientific method was characterized by experimentation, i.e., he always tried to prove what he wanted to demonstrate” (Rius-Pinies, p. 98). Not only did Ibn al-Haytham perfect his findings, but he constructed experiments that would demonstrate his discoveries to critics, leaving little room for debate and scrutiny that he had experienced in his past. One of these experiments was as simple as inviting his students to stare at the sun, showing them that the intense light that the sun emitted burned one’s eyes, proving Euclid’s and Ptolemy’s argument that the light originates from the eye was wrong; it starts outside the eye and reflects into it (Powers, NYT). Before al-Haytham’s findings, it was believed that vision was made possible through invisible rays that expelled light from the eyes. Al-Haytham turned this belief of the world of vision upside down, and because of his experiments, he was able to support his findings. “Thanks to his research based on a physical conception of sight, he could explain how the eye moves and how binocular vision functions” (Rius-Pinies, p. 100).

To be sure of his approach and fully understand his discoveries, he dissected the eye and studied its inner workings to attain a comprehensive knowledge, giving names to parts of the eye that we still use one thousand years later, terms such as; “crystalline,” “aqueous humor,” “vitreous humor,” and “retina” (Rius-Pinies, p. 100).

Ibn al-Haytham was known for his ground-breaking discoveries in the world of optics, but few know of the contributions he has made to other sciences as well. He is considered by many who have studied him to be one of the first polymaths, (Rashed, p. 773) meaning that he is strongly knowledgeable in a wide array of subjects. “In fact, as a medieval scholar, he had an education that included religion, literature, language, philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy, among other disciplines” (Rius-Pinies, p. 97). Only about fifty of his approximately one hundred professional works have been discovered up to this point.

Aside from his amazing advances in the world of optometry, Ibn al-Haytham is also responsible for contributing to other diverse areas of study, an attribute that not many scholars can boast. He was known to be a great philosopher and paved the way for the world of phenomenology, (Tbakhi, Amr, ASM) a complex discipline within the world of philosophy. Al-Haytham is also known to have been the first philosopher to draw a link between the worlds of religion and science, something that proved he was far ahead of his time (Tbakhi, Amr, ASM).

Within the field of astronomy, al-Haytham was one of the first scholars that seemingly began to doubt the geocentric model, the idea that the Earth was the center of the Universe. His studies and critiques on Ptolemaic astronomy were helpful to astronomers later on who were influenced by his writings (Tbakhi, Amr, ASM). In his later years he also wrote “The Model of the Motions of Each of the Seven Planets,” of which only one damaged copy, with much of the material missing, has been discovered. In mathematics, he made advances that included developing a link between two previously separate sciences; algebra and geometry (Tbakhi, Amr, ASM). Although al-Haytham is not known to have discovered any astronomy related breakthroughs, his works instilled enough doubt in later scholars on the correct form of the galaxy and nevertheless greatly influenced many Western scholars in their ventures.

It is confounding to think of how long ago al-Haytham’s works were formed given the knowledge that they have only recently been thoroughly studied and translated. “…it was not until the end of the 20^th century when the seven volumes of the Arabic text were edited, translated, and studied properly by Prof. Abdelhamid I. Sabra…” (Rius-Pinies, p. 99). The fact that his work had waited so long to have been translated or brought to the public eye has made it easier for other scholars to be undetected as they used al-Haytham’s work and made it their own while reaping the benefits of his success. One example of this is Erazmus Witelo, a thirteenth century philosopher who wrote his own book on optics and was later discovered to have taken a significant amount of al-Haytham’s work and passed it as his own thus earning himself the eventual title of “Alhazen’s Ape” (www.light2015.org).

The knowledge of how the Muslim scientists of this period were underrepresented can be paralleled to a majority of Western culture views on the Middle East today (Hehmeyer, Khan, page 1467). Even during the European Renaissance, scientists and philosophers of that time failed to properly credit or realize the work of the Muslim scholars before disguising their works as their own, thus altering the perceptions and beliefs of later generations. I believe that in the United States there is a general consensus that there have not been significant contributions from the Middle East in the worlds of science, math, philosophy, and astronomy, because we have not been educated on such topics. It has become part of a baseless bias, one that for generations has coasted off a xenophobic attitude that has oppressed Muslims and discredited them for their achievements.

The Year of Light

An important step in recent years has been made by the United Nations as they officially declared 2015 the International Year of Light. One thousand years after the known completion of Ibn al-Haytham’s “Book of Optics,” this year was dedicated to celebrating important milestones in the history of light and science developments. This is incredibly important in restoring credit and honor to the man who devoted his entire life to changing not only the way in which we see the world, but the way in which we understand sight itself. It is a meaningful step in honoring not only Ibn al-Haytham, but the many Muslim scientists that existed before, during, and since his time and the great advances that they gifted to us. The goal of the International Year of Light was to create a campaign that raises awareness “of how optical technologies promote sustainable development and provide solutions to worldwide challenges in energy, education, agriculture, communications and health” (lightsources.org/about-2/).

Another powerful product of 2015, “1001 Inventions and the World of Ibn Al-Haytham” was a short film produced in honor of Ibn al-Haytham and his life’s accomplishments.

The amount of information and change that the world received from the few surviving works of al-Haytham is astonishing. From Ibn al-Haytham, we can attribute so much more knowledge to the science of the eye, how vision works, and its relationship with the brain. From his experiments we have learned about the scientific process and the importance of backing up ideas with solid evidence. From his studies of light, lenses, and refraction we have invented the telescope and microscope (Powers, NYT). One can only imagine what other knowledge he would have left us with had his remaining texts survived. With Ibn al-Haytham’s contributions, the world took a grand leap into a more progressive future.

“Arabic scientists, for instance, are a good example of incomprehensibly ignored figures, and for this reason, Ibn al-Haytham is still a complete stranger to most Western citizens” (Rius-Pinies, p. 96). Ibn al-Haytham dedicated his entire life to developing ideas and inventions that changed the world, made it more convenient for future generations, and paved a clear path for scholars of the Western civilization that ended up taking credit for his work. He lived just seventy-five years, but he accomplished enough for ten lifetimes.

SOURCES CITED

• Ali, Rabia Umar. “Medieval Europe: The Myth of Dark Ages and the Impact of Islam.” Islamic Studies51, no. 2 (2012): 155-68. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23643958.
• “Discover the World of 11th Century Scientist Ibn Al-Haytham.” 1001 Inventions and the World of Ibn Al-Haytham, 1001 Inventions Limited, King Abdul Aziz Center, UNESCO, IYL 2015, 2015, www.ibnalhaytham.com/.
• Hehmeyer, Ingrid, and Aliya Khan. “Islam’s Forgotten Contributions to Medical Science.” Canadian Medical Association Journal, vol. 176, no. 10, 8 May 2007, pp. 1467–1468., doi: 10.1503/cmaj.061464.
• “Ibn Al-Haytham and the Legacy of Arabic Optics.” International Year of Light – Ibn Al-Haytham and the Legacy of Arabic Optics, 2015, light2015.org/Home/ScienceStories/1000-Years-of-Arabic-Optics.html.
• “International Year of Light: United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization.” International Year of Light | United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, 2017, www.unesco.org/new/en/unesco/events/prizes-and-celebrations/celebrations/international-years/international-year-of-light/.
• org. 15 May 2020, lightsources.org/about-2/.
• Powers, Richard. “Eyes Wide Open.” The New York Times, 18 Apr. 1999, archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/library/magazine/millennium/m1/powers.html.
• Rashed, Roshdi. “Portraits of Science: A Polymath in the 10th Century.” Science297, no. 5582 (2002): 773. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3831971.
• Rius-Pinies, Monica. “On Science and the Construction of Identities: Remembering Ibn Al-Haytham (965–1039).” Contributions to Science: Open Access, 2015, doi:10.2436/20.7010.01.217.
• Smith, John D. “The Remarkable Ibn Al-Haytham.” The Mathematical Gazette76, no. 475 (1992): 189-98. doi:10.2307/3620392.
• Tbakhi, Abdelghani, and Samir S. Amr. “Ibn Al-Haytham: Father of Modern Optics.” Annals of Saudi Medicine, vol. 27, no. 6, 2007, doi:https://doi.org/10.5144/0256-4947.2007.464.

History

Articles

In Xanadu: A Quest, William Dalrymple’s first book, is a work that amassed critical acclaim from the likes of Sir Alex Guinness (“The delightful, and funny, surprise mystery tour of the year”), and the doyen of modern travel literature Patrick Leigh Fermor (“…a most gifted book touched by the spirits of Kinglake, Robert Byron and Evelyn Waugh”), which must have made the twenty-two-year-old author’s head spin. It is by turns a very funny book. He changed his female traveling companion halfway but still managed to produce a work loaded with history and knowledge acquired when the author set off in the footsteps of Marco Polo from Jerusalem to the fabled city court of Kubla Khan in China. But those were early days and William Dalrymple has now become the chronicler of all things pertaining to the subcontinent of India, with doorstopper books to match. His Nine Lives is a personal favorite and amounts to research beyond the call of duty in which the writer sets off in search of the sacred in modern India. Again, marvelous writing as the author attaches himself to some of the adventurers within the life of the soul who have devoted their lives to extremes.

Music

After being made aware of World Music, we have been given a novel approach to Orientalism   through what has been termed “fusion.” Jan Garbarek is a Norwegian jazz musician who has felt an attraction to the music of the Orient. He is a saxophonist of great ability, an ability that that has enabled him to transcend common musical performance for he is able to assimilate the themes and rhythms of the East without seemingly imposing the conventions of the West. Any reader wishing to experience Garbarek’s music is advised to purchase the CD Madar, which has been released on the excellent German ECM label. Given that all musical appreciation is subjective, your correspondent suggests that this is currently the most exciting music on the planet. Grabarek plays tenor- and soprano saxophones on this recording, with Anouar Brahem from Tunis on the lute-like oud, supported admirably by the scintillating tabla of Ustad Shaukat Hussein from India. It is perfectly apparent that despite pessimistic and obviously conflicting academic views, East will meet West as sure as there exists any attraction between the sexes, and above all between musicians. Which medium could bring it about better than music, for some the highest of the arts?

For the general record-purchasing public the music of Asia more or less began with George Harrison who learned to play the sitar (“I started 15 years too late,” he said), and sang My Sweet Lord, his emotionally charged yearn for transcendence, with a brief intro on the instrument that beguiled everyone. The book that documents, in a fascinating way, all of the Asian music that revolutionized and widened the West’s appreciation of it is The Dawn of Indian Music in the West by Peter Lavezzoli, with an introduction by the master, Ravi Shankar. The author, himself a musician, tells of the violin virtuoso Yehudi Menuhin’s impassioned support of Indian classical music as early as 1955. Lavezzoli’s relentless research is a magnificent tribute and includes some fascinating and extensive in-depth interviews with classical, jazz and rock musicians who had willingly succumbed to the art of the raga. The interviews reveal that the rock musicians of the 1950s and ’60s were endowed with sensibilities that went beyond the norm and showed that they were not always interested in musical excitement based on a series of riffs and little else. David Crosby, who went on be a part of the successful Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young band, and Roger McGuinn of the Byrds, were both intelligent men who were at home with John Coltrane’s jazz and were also intrigued with the intricacies of Indian classical music. The sarod drone, the sitar’s first notes – like tin-foil blossoms cascading down – tinkles seductively to your ears. Then comes the pervasive backwash of delicate, reverberating sound the way an artist gives the foundation to a picture, followed by the pulsating ever-present sheets of sound. John Coltrane would have felt perfectly at home. The tabla player waits, resisting any urge to intrude until, there it is, the sudden opening, the sudden right moment, and with a decisive whack he was a part of it all. His insistent accents, punctuations, and singing taps made everything perfect. The sarod, the sitar and the tabla become instrumental friends. They literally hit a groove.

Lavezzoli’s book is a kaleidoscopic, dense appraisal for anyone with any interest in music of what can only be termed spiritual inspiration. This has to be the definitive work.

The Orientalists

Kristian Davies has produced a book of unsurpassed beauty. The Orientalists – Western Artists in Arabia, The Sahara, Persia & India is utterly irresistible. Published in 2005 and sold at an unbelievably reasonable $70, one will now need to consider spending around $200 for the cheapest on the market, then think in terms of $2,000 for a pristine copy. For anyone wishing to own great books, the outlay is worth it. There are 300 pages of text, and color plates in which to drench your eyes. We are not excused the debate around the theme that has raged for a while.

Orientalism has become the catchword for all that could be seen as negative. It is again, addressed here, that one finds the debate about blame apportioned to the West in respect of attitudes against all that is by definition “other.” On the one hand Mr. Davies rightly defends his position by presenting great works of art that are reason enough in themselves to make pointless all intellectual contention. One sides with Mr. Davies because – what the heck – who gives two figs for politics when one is confronted with such unsurpassed beauty? To be fair, however, one also reads something rather damning in The Brown Sahib (revisited) by Varindra Tarzie Vittachi in which he quotes from Lord Macaulay in 1835: “We must at present do our best to form a class who may be interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, a class of persons, Indian in blood and colour, but English in taste, in opinions, in morals, and in intellect.” The West has looked down on the East, but then humans apparently need something or someone to look down on for reasons best known to their own inner worlds. The argument that an excess of Oriental color and physical voluptuousness is not without reason, however, and one can be startled by what appears to be an exaggeration of physical prowess or physical beauty. Then something otherwise commonplace is seen. The tiles portrayed, quite rightly, in many Oriental pictures are here at a level of gorgeousness beyond comparison. The carpets are sublime, and the camels magnificently haughty. Kristian Davies has given us a dream made apparent with additional essays on Arthur Rimbaud, Jean-Louis Burckhardt, Sir Richard F. Burton, Jean-Léon Gérôme, JamesTissot and Jane Digby el-Mezrab. The color plates, which dazzle and delight are by such painters as Gustav Bauernfeind, and the American James Fairman, together with the British painter David Roberts, Eugène Delacroix, and many, many more.

In the “footnotes of Ibn Battuta”

Tim Mackintosh-Smith gives us Travels with a Tangerine: A Journey in the Footnotes of Ibn Battutah. The title may suggest a less than adept juggler, but a Tangerine meant here is a person from Tangiers. Mr. M-S (he abbreviates his hero throughout to IB) has a way with words and once underway is hardly stoppable when his pen doth riotous flow. His knowledge of all things Oriental will astonish, he is mind-bogglingly informed about God and the world and, of course, Ibn Battuta. Book two within his IB trilogy is The Hall of a Thousand Pillars, and it is here that M-S, faithfully follows IB’s journeys in India, which started in 1332. Book three is Landfalls: On the Edge of Islam from Zanzibar to the Alhambra. There is a free-for-all exposition of IB’s Islamic acquaintances and, again, M-S shows the depth of his own reading and research on the ground (try foot-slogging around India and you will know what that means). This is premier-league travel writing, which also makes Tim Mackintosh-Smith an Orientalist of note.

Istanbul

There have been many books written about the city of Constantine, but probably the most famous in modern times is Strolling Through Istanbul by Hilary Sumner-Boyd and John Freely. These two American expatriate academics produced a book, first published in 1972, that the Times of London reviewed as “the best travel guide to Istanbul.” This book is exhaustive in detail and is meant for people who will be obliged to walk the walk and have little breath remaining to talk. Chapter for chapter, day by day, each city landmark is given an itinerary, with maps, that will appeal to visitors who will definitely wish to go beyond the Grand Bazaar (your correspondent remembers it before the Coca-Cola machines), although it is also described, of course. The Haghia Sophia is given elucidation, as is Topkapi, and an endless series of museums, monuments, palaces, bazaars, markets, mosques, streets and alleys, schools of religion and, quite obviously, the ubiquitous public baths. History is writ large and architecture larger still. One of the wonders is the Şehzade mosque, also known as the Prince’s Palace, which was created by Süleyman the Magnificent to commemorate his son who died at the age of only 22. Determination and well-worn-in shoes are called for because the book urges one to go forth and inspect a further Süleyman edifice, the Süleymaniye mosque complex, considered by the authors to be the most important Ottoman building in Istanbul. The book continues to be a fascinating read and there is little, if anything, of the history of the city that has been left out. This book is highly recommended as a proper guide for visitors with both physical and intellectual stamina that will probably not inform one of a good restaurant, but will get you deeply immersed in the history of one of the world’s most fascinating cities.

Published in 2016 by the American University in Cairo Press, and edited by the Turkish novelist and essayist Kaya Genç, An Istanbul Anthology – Travel Writing through the Centuries comprises a selection of vignettes by famous men and women of letters. Mark Twain remains true to character with his sardonic wit, while André Gide and Gustav Flaubert are dismissive to an extreme. Ernest Hemingway is positively lyrical (“…the Golden Horn with its minarets rising out of it slim and clean towards the sun…”), and also included are brief extracts from the writings of Hans Christian Anderson, Herman Melville, and many more. Lady Hester Stanhope tells of her experiences in the Cağaloğlu hamam, after which she awakens hungry and refreshed. Gérard de Nerval describes a Dervish lodge at Pera. Théophile Gautier offers a knowledgeable introduction to Ramadan in the city. Twenty-four writers are here, some with more than one piece included. This delightful little book contains a number of beautiful illustrations of seemingly antique vintage.

Jerusalem

One of my favorite books is by the now demised but still celebrated author, Amos Oz. In his revealing In the Land of Israel the writer undertook a tour of the Holy Land in the 1980s to interview Jews and Arabs of all kinds. This amounts to worldly wisdom strictly according to the status quo. Amos Oz, however, was a peacenik and he included an interview with an elderly person who was quoted as saying, “This land belongs to nobody but God, when both the Arabs and the Israelis realize that there will be peace.” What is most evident is the view from the ground, of the ordinary people of all political or religious persuasions. We read of the internal worlds of those inhabiting a land in conflict. Israel exists in a state of cause and effect. In an interview that your correspondent had with the now demised Teddy Kollek, the mayor of Jerusalem for 28 years, he said, “I don’t think Jerusalem is worth the loss of a single life.” Amos Oz’s interviews end for the most part in expressions of bitter resolve or a sheer sense of helplessness. Above all else this book is as good as it gets when one wishes to become acquainted with the turmoil that is prevalent in the land of Israel. The writing is superb, pithy, factual, and embarrassingly honest.

And so to bed, and what better read than The Middle East Bedside Book to help one end the day with a contented smile or two. Edited by Tahir Shah, we find a selection of proverbs by Abdesalam Tunisi, who suggests that “too many captains sink the ship,” which obviously rings a culinary bell. There are extracts from The Adventures of Hajji Baba of Ispahan (sic) as well as A Thousand and One Nights. Among The Saying from the Prophet Mohammed is one example that will give pause for thought at the end of Ramadan: “How many who fast who know nothing of fasting except its thirst, and how many pray who know nothing of prayer but its sleeplessness.” Quite understandably Tahir has included some of the writings by his famous father, Idries Shah, who contributes a bantering essay about British expats in Bahrain. The writer on all things pertaining to Sufism actually offers less spiritual wisdom but all the more of his Travel Notes, which can be fully enjoyed in his book Destination Mecca. There are stories galore, each under their own title, such as Chivalry and Teachers, Customs and Social Habits, Rituals and Human Nature, Eating Customs among the Turks and Arabs (including several recipes), Wisdom and Honor, most of which are taken from early manuscripts. Under “behavior” we read from Ibn Amru: the Prophet said “The most beloved of mine among you is whoever has the best manners.” Suffice it to say, this book is a gem.

Addendum

A force to be reckoned with is Alfred Guillaume’s The Life of Muhammad – a translation of Ibn Ishaq’s Sirat Rasul Allah. First published in Pakistan by the Oxford University Press in 1955, and now available in an edition of 1983, Guillaume’s work amounts to more than 800 pages of small print, which covers just about every aspect of the Prophet’s life. This work amounts to detail to the ultimate degree and should be on any serious Muslim’s bookshelf.

• The Orientalists – Part 1

For lust of knowing what should not be known/ We take the Golden Road to Samarkand. [[1]]

The Silk Road has always been known for providing pathways that allow the Far East to exchange goods and ideas with the European West. History often remembers that the Silk Road helped Europe expand and flourish. However, the cities that lived in close proximity to the Silk Road routes also benefited economically and culturally. Samarkand, specifically, became a multi-ethnic city of trade under the leadership of Tamerlane in the 14^th century. According to historian Christopher I. Beckwith, Tamerlane formed Samarkand into a “model city” [[2]]. But was it Tamerlane’s skill as a political leader, or the influence of the trade routes that brought glory to the grand city? While Tamerlane’s empire was vast and incredible, it is impossible to deny that the Silk Road played a larger role in the flourishing of Samarkand due to the market established in the city, as well as its toleration of those with different cultural and religious identities.

Timur the Lame, or Tamerlane, was a successful military and political ruler in the city of Samarkand. As a child, Timur found himself living on the Central Asian steppes where he and his tribe would migrate at the mercy of the seasonal weather [[3]]. However, as he grew older, Timur soon found himself gaining a foothold and conquering tribes, making alliances with other warlords, and looting as a missionary throughout Central Asia [[4]]. One of Timur’s most influential alliances was made with the Balkh warlord Amir Husayn. Throughout the course of the alliance between Timur and Husayn, tensions were high and it eventually disintegrated [[5]]. Despite Timur facing betrayal during his previous experience with Husayn, the two again joined forces to eventually overthrow the Sarbadar government in Samarkand in 1366 [[6]]. While ruling alongside Husayn in Samarkand, Timur gained many followers. Timur was regarded as a brave, intelligent, and generous ruler among his people though it was well known that he was also ruthless to his enemies [[7]]. With his skill to gain followers and prestige all across the Central Asian steppes and cities, Timur was finally able to make his way into the Mongol courts. After Genghis Khan died, Timur was able to cement his control as the sole ruler of the Chagatai territory on April 9, 1370 [[8]].

The ancient city of Samarkand is well known to be a melting pot of people with different races and religions. The Sogdian people are considered to be one of the first to populate the area. In fact, the first traces of the Sogdian people date back to 700 BC. Valerie Hansen of Yale University writes that it is likely that the early Sogdian settlers lived peacefully within the city as merchants, farmers, and servants. She also states that the Sogdians were also able to continue using their native language although it was not the mainstream language of the city [[9]]. However, the Sogdians were not the only people to occupy the city. When Ruiz Gonzales de Clavijo visited the city while on embassy in 1412, he noted that there were people from across the world living in the city. Clavijo wrote:

…The population now of all nationalities gathered together in Samarqand… [Amounting] to about 150,000 souls. Of the nations brought here together there were to be seen Turks, Arabs and Moors of diverse sects, with Christians who were Greeks and Armenians, Catholics, Jacobites, and Nestorians…[[10]]

These different religious and ethnic groups likely lived in peace and toleration of one another and focused on improving commerce within the city.

While Tamerlane was a successful ruler and won the respect and loyalty of his citizens, that alone did not cause the city of Samarkand to become great. Instead, the Silk Road routes are most likely the reason for the city’s strong economy. The Silk Road was a series of trade routes that stretched from China, located in the Far East, to the European West. These dangerous trade routes allowed merchants to not only sell silk, but also chemicals, spices, minerals, leather goods, and paper [[11]]. While China traded with many different countries across the known world, the country mainly focused its trade with Samarkand. The Chinese likely had a special trading partnership established with the Sogdians, who were seen as the “main contributors” to the Silk Roads [[12]]. Hansen refers to the painting that was seen in the Panjikent House. In this painting, a woman is shown who appears to be a deity. The style of art was likely influenced by the Chinese because of their relationship with the city [[13]].

The city of Samarkand also had an elaborate trading marketplace set up with the city itself. Ruiz Gonzalez de Clavijo also mentioned that the city of Samarkand was stocked full of goods and other merchandise from around the world. Some items were even exclusively sold within the city. Spices from India, for example, were “never to be found in the markets of Alexandria.” According to Clavijo, when Timur succeeded in conquering new lands, he would often bring the best craftsmen of the conquered territory to Samarkand. For example, Timur brought weavers from Damascus, gun smiths from Turkey, as well as glassmakers and armorers that were found in other locations [[14]]. Additionally, the fertile soil in the areas surrounding the city helped farmers to harvest wheat, wine, fruit, and cotton. The price of goods was then controlled to prevent inflation from rising too high. Clavijo mentions that the price of a pair of sheep would normally cost a “ducat,” which is equivalent to about six shillings. A person in Samarkand could also pay a “half a real,” equivalent to about three pence, for a bushel and a half of barley [[15]].

Aside from the strong economy and ethnic tolerance in the city, Samarkand is also known for its beauty. On his trip, Clavijo noted that Samarkand was larger than Seville and also noticed surrounding suburbs, orchards, and vineyards outside of the city. It is noted that the “most noble and beautiful houses” are also located among the vineyards, gardens, and farmlands [[16]]. Inside the city, Samarkand also possessed beautiful buildings. Historian Xinru Liu of the College of New Jersey writes that the city’s close proximity to the Silk Roads and the cultural influences from within caused Samarkand to have several different cultural buildings erected from within. For example, Liu mentions that Islamic scholars traveled along the Silk Roads and, eventually, Islamic architectural building and centers sprang up throughout the city [[17]].

Initially, the city of Samarkand was established as a military garrison by the Arabs after defeating the Turks in 712 [[18]]. Overtime, the city became prosperous and a large trading hub where people from across the world could trade for exclusive items. How did the city of Samarkand become such an influential power at this time? Some, including Christopher I. Beckwith, and Clavijo, argue that the rule of Tamerlane is what expanded the city’s influence, wealth, and power. However, it is more plausible that the presence of the Silk Roads and the city’s multi-ethnic identity is what made it great. Today, Samarkand still remains a prosperous city of trade with multi-ethnic identity [[19]].

Bibliography

• Beckwith, Christopher I. Empires of the Silk Road: A History of the Bronze Age to the Present (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009).
• de Clavijo, Ruiz Gonzales. “Clavijo’s Embassy to Tamerlane.” University of Washington, http://depts.washington.edu/silkroad/texts/clavijo/cltxt1.html (accessed April 26, 2017).
• Flecker, James Elroy. “The Golden Road to Samarkand.” AllPoetry.com, https://allpoetry.com/The-Golden-Road-to-Samarkand (accessed April 24, 2017).
• Hansen, Valerie. The Silk Road: A New History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).
• Liu, Xinru. The Silk Road in World History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).
• Marozzi, Justin. Tamerlane: Sword of Islam, Conqueror of the World (Cambridge: Da Capo  Press, 2004).

Footnotes

[1] James Elroy Flecker, “The Golden Road to Samarkand,” AllPoetry.com, https://allpoetry.com/The-Golden-Road-to-Samarkand (accessed April 24, 2017).

[2] Christopher I. Beckwith, Empires of the Silk Road: A History of Central Eurasia from the Bronze Age to the Present (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 203.

[3] Justin Marozzi, Tamerlane: Sword of Islam, Conqueror of the World (Cambridge: Da Capo Press, 2004), 28.

[4] Ibid, 30, 40-48.

[5] According to Justin Marozzi, Timur and Amir Husayn, formed an alliance via a marriage between Timur and Aljai Turkhan-agha, who was Husayn’s sister. The two men went undercover as missionaries when Timur decided that he did not want to submit to Moghul rule. It was even during this time as a missionary that Timur most like injured his leg, which never healed, giving him the nickname “Timur the Lame.” In 1365, the partnership ended when Husayn left Timur on the battlefield after resentment tore the two allies apart. They eventually worked together once more in the battle for Samarkand, but while ruling the city, the alliance once more became strained due to differences in political policies and beliefs. Husayn, reportedly, began to tax Timur and his followers because the two leaders had opposing styles of leadership. The alliance between the two officially ended when Aljai, Timur’s wife and Husayn’s sister, died. In 1370, Timur, backed by the government in Bukhara marched with his followers on Balkh to conquer Husayn’s city. Husayn was captured by one of Timur’s men and reportedly tried to bribe the guard with pearls. He was eventually brought before Timur, surrendered, and then executed.

[6] Ibid, 40.

[7] Beckwith, 197-200.

[8] Beckwith, 198.

[9] Valerie Hansen, The Silk Road: A New History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 117, 120.

[10] Ruiz Gonzales de Clavijo, “Clavijo’s Embassy to Tamerlane,” University of Washington, http://depts.washington.edu/silkroad/texts/clavijo/cltxt1.html (accessed April 26, 2017).

[11] Hansen, 5.

[12] Ibid, 4.

[13] Ibid, 126-127.

[14] Ibid.

[15] Clavijo’s Embassy to Tamerlane.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Xinru Liu, The Silk Road in World History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 106-107.

[18] Beckwith, 133.

[19] Liu, 66-67.

The First Period

This first phase saw a rise in conservatism, fueled by quasi-taxpayer revolts and an increasing oligarchical minority seeking to control all aspects of government and business.

As this early period of conservatism rose, it became evident that the desire by many for smaller, more responsive government and less taxes would not be met. Evidence would later surface that the oligarchy, much in the manner of the 19th century “robber barons,” colluded to gather power and wealth for themselves while using the taxpayer’s own dissatisfaction against them.

Governments became, in fact, larger and more military oriented, subservient to the demands of business and the oligarchy for less and less regulation. With each increment in the reduction of environmental and other regulations came a concurrent reduction in personal liberties.

Believing there was a need for more energy, restrictions against the mining of coal, the drilling for oil and natural gas, and seeking alternative ways to obtain fossil fuels were reduced and/or eliminated. The need for more and more of these fossil fuels led to more global conflicts, as countries sought to find and secure the rapidly diminishing supplies of fossil fuel. This in turn necessitated increased military, defense, and security-based spending. Wars became the norm rather than the exception, which created an age gap, as an entire generation was squandered fighting in these conflicts.

The reduction or removal of environmental-based regulations, long proclaimed by conservatives as barriers to economic growth, led to an increase in air and water pollution levels, and the destruction of natural habitats, which in turn had a devastating impact on the planet in general. The increase in pollution levels and lack of regulations would also have an adverse effect on the general health of the world’s human population. The air quality in many cities around the world literally forced governments to shut down because people could not go outside. Infant mortality, once dropping, began to rise.

Faced with an increase in military, defense, and security-based spending, many governments had to cut back on humanitarian spending, education, and basic research. At first, this was accepted by the many who had sought the elimination of such projects.

And while attempts to resist these steps were made at the local level, they were decidedly limited in their impact. Hospitals – taken over by health insurance companies (under the mantra that businesses knew how to make hospitals work) and driven by the bottom-line mentality that suggested each hospital had to make a profit – began to close, leaving many people without any medical assistance. It quickly became apparent that only a relative few, the rich and powerful that constituted the oligarchy, would have medical care.

As businesses responded to the demands of the oligarchy, wages were reduced with the declaration that businesses could not pay living wages and make a profit. The effect of this mentality began to show towards the latter portion of this first period.

Eventually, due to the increased military spending and the falling wages of the majority, businesses began to fail. There was a sense that a Great Depression, far greater than any before, was imminent.

At the same time, loss of income and the failure of many businesses triggered a revival in debtors’ prisons, where people who could not pay their bills were jailed until someone could pay their debts for them. The false logic of this solution – that people who were not able to pay their own bills would be able to pay the bills of their friends – escaped those whose only concern was the bottom line.

Responding to other latent demands of the conservatives, laws against discrimination were also repealed. Discrimination based on race, sexual and gender identity, and ethnic origin rose precipitously.

Organized religion, already in decline as the 21st century began, saw its decline rapidly increase. Along with a rise in political conservatism was a rise in religious conservatism. Those associated with these fundamentalist movements sought a stricter interpretation of their respective Holy Scriptures (oftentimes in direct contradiction to what was the commonly accepted ideas of the Scriptures), as well as the need for greater cooperation between governments and religions.

These now fundamentalist religions began to openly push a more Calvinistic view: that wealth and power were the hallmarks of a righteous life, poverty was the sign of a sinful life, and that one’s status in life was already determined.

Educational systems, already under attack at the beginning of the 21st century, were slowly transformed from centers of creativity and thought into indoctrination academies, dedicated to teaching basic knowledge without additional thought and supportive of the discriminatory nature of society. The goal of the early 21st century school was the development of trained, unquestioning workers who accepted minimum wage jobs with limited benefits and no job protections.

Colleges which did not support the overall view of the oligarchy and conservative establishment quickly found themselves under attack and without funds.
Technology development stagnated as individuals capable of maintaining and supporting existing technology were no longer available. And with the loss of general research and support funds, there was no research being done on the next generation of technology or areas such as alternative energy research. An interesting side-effect to this loss of technologically skilled workers was that defense projects begun in the late 20th and early 21st century, almost all of which relied heavily on technology, were not able to be repaired as military units had no one to deal with the support function, leaving many of the weapons procured for multiple millions of dollars unusable.

Workers were quickly stripped of the rights and privileges, all of which had been gained through the workers’ movements of the mid-20th century. Unions, already suffering massive blows, were quickly eliminated as the conservative central government declared that businesses did better without them. As workers dealt with increasingly inhospitable working conditions and uncaring management, there was a concurrent rise in workplace violence as stress levels increased.

Clearly, the consequences of changes begun at the beginning of the 21st century were not what its supporters had wanted or even imagined. It was a world beset by climate and environmental problems, embroiled in many different global wars, and divided by racial, gender, and ethnic identities.

The move into the 21st century instead began to look like a movement backwards in time, echoing the rise of Nazism in the early and mid-1930s.

The Second Period

The second phase of the 21st century would be labeled by some as a time of creative anarchy.

The beginnings of this phase were marked by what became known as the 4th or “Greater” Faith Revival. Frustrated by the failure of the organized church and religious groups to respond to the increasingly discriminatory   nature of society, individuals began leaving organized religions. Faced with the need find comfort in a time of need, individuals began meeting, often in secret, in the homes of believers or other non-traditional venues, such as coffee houses or book stores.

Echoing the days of the early Christian church, these small groups began ministering to the poor and needy, the homeless and sick, the persecuted and forgotten. These groups flourished because they offered solutions that the current power and social structures could not solve or ignored completely. While at first these groups were defined in the traditional sense, they quickly became places to study other faiths and find ways to utilize the common points of all faiths to change the role of society outside traditional thought. It was recognized that faith was an individual’s relationship with God and that each relationship was unique.
Groups increasingly shut out of traditional political, economic, and social structures began forming their own political, economic, and social structures. These groups no longer willingly supported the traditional organized structures. An underground economy, first begun in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, utilizing “bitcoins” and micro-banks, supported these small groups.

Despite the seeming chaos, these small groups, founded in faith and a belief in the people, began making changes that supported everyone, even those outside their small group. These changes in turn began to weaken traditional structures, both political and social.

In addition, from almost the start of these small groups, it was understood that there was a limit to the size of the group. And once that size limit   was reached, it would be necessary to split into two or more groups to maintain the innovative and creative nature of the group. This limiting principle proved a necessity for the future success of the movement.

Utilizing the new underground economy, people found ways to do what the oligarchy had long been doing, and that is to avoid paying taxes. Conflicts between the oligarchy and their political representatives arose as the political representatives sought ways to fund governments and the members of the oligarchy refused to pay. This led to multiple funding crises in countries around the world.

The graduation of the classes of 2020, the “classes of vision,” provided the critical mass necessary to transform the small underground groups into the basis for a world-wide movement that transcended traditional social, economic, political, and geographical boundaries. This paved the way for the third phase of the 21st century to begin and flourish.

The Third Period

In this third phase, small groups, formed in protest to traditional processes, began developing ways to work together. Democracy became more localized as these groups used the social media communication methods first established during the Arab Spring of 2010. These methods allowed groups to communicate and work together without the need for centralized governments.

This was typified by the change in government operations in the United States. Recognizing the efficiency of the small group approach, members of the United States House of Representatives and Senate began operating out of their home and district offices, with Congress meeting as a large collection

of town and group meetings. While there were still government offices in Washington, D. C., the bulk of the government business was conducted electronically. This in turn made government more responsive to the needs and interests of the local population and less to that of the oligarchy that had risen to power just a few years earlier.

There was also a shift, fueled in part by the underground economy but also by the change in the way government worked, in overall government spending.

Big companies, long considered the essential role-model, could not adapt to the small group mentality of the new economy and began to collapse or were replaced by more responsive local industries and businesses.

Agriculture became increasingly “community supported agriculture” with less reliance on fertilizers, insecticides, and other chemicals to bolster production.

The third period of the 21st century saw a major decrease in military, defense, and security spending. As small groups began working and communicating with each other, there was less and less of a need for a continued military presence in each country. With money no longer being spent this way, additional funds were directed towards increased spending on humanitarian and research efforts.

Healthcare became universal as individuals, having gone through a time where there was no healthcare and faced with serious healthcare-related issues, saw the need for a universal system. And surprisingly, the cost which so many people proclaimed would rise dramatically, was reduced to virtually nothing. Concurrently, great strides were made in the area of medical research, achieving goals long thought impossible to meet.

The third period of the 21st century saw the promise of space exploration, first achieved in the late 20th century but cast aside due to limited funds, again become a reality. A truly permanent presence in low-earth orbit around the globe was established and exploratory manned missions to the other planets, and beyond, were begun.

The transition to the 22nd century

As Earth’s population moved into the 22nd century and beyond, the boundaries of the earth’s gravity that had for so long, figuratively and actually, bound mankind to its surface, there was a renewed human spirit that transcended political and geographical boundaries.

There was an increased focus on faith as it became evident that, without faith, the outcome of the 21st century might have been something terribly different.

And while there were those who would continue to proclaim that it would be better to be bigger, the evidence showed that there was a greater sense of security and stability, of health and happiness, in the small group model.

During the 18th and 19th centuries, people sought ways to establish peaceful communities by withdrawing from society. Such communities were always doomed from the beginning because one can never truly escape from society. But as the 21st century came to a close and the 22nd century began, people found a way to come close to those Utopian goals. And while there were and will probably always be differences between individuals, both in small groups and across the planet, the understanding of how to work between groups to resolve differences without violence, destruction, or warfare, helped humanity achieve a lasting peace.

The same ideas are expressed in Spain’s Moorish architecture. There is no greater achievement in Moorish architecture than the Alhambra, located in Granada. This fortress complex is situated atop a mountain, with panoramic views of the city below. The enormous palace complex is rich in ornamentation, which was used to enhance the architectural forms and add character to the buildings. The ornamentation present in the Alhambra includes the elaborate muqarnas, lavish courtyards, and geometric patterning.

Muqarnas

The fact that the Alhambra is probably the most important piece of Moorish architecture is due to its sculptural elements, known as muqarnas. “…found in the Alhambra, and unprecedented in the West, (muqarna) is one of the greatest of all Muslim contributions to the history of architecture, originating in some North African structures… the muqarnas work in the star-shaped vaults” (Trachtenberg and Hyman 1986, 219).

It is important to note that the muqarnas were not just thrown all over the walls without reason; they were added for the purpose of enhancing form, and resolving rough transitions: “The Moors ever regarded what architects hold to be the first principle of architecture—to decorate construction—never to construct decoration. In Moorish architecture, not only does decoration arise naturally from the construction, but the constructive idea is carried out in every detail of the ornamentation of the surface” (Calvert 1907, 108).

This idea illustrates the distinction between ornamentation for the sake of decoration and ornamentation that arises from the construction, which is what the Moors of Spain did. In terms of muqarnas enhancing architectural form, they blur the line between where the dome begins and where it ends, so that a seamless transition has been created. “The empty portions of the four corners must be filled to redistribute the load of the dome (in fact there are two domes: the muqarna dome, just decorative, and the structural dome, which can only be seen from the exterior and from which the muqarnas are suspended). This redistribution is achieved with an assemblage of muqarnas, and the four angles are connected with a very simple muqarnas frieze” (Castera 2007, 108).

This interior treatment of the dome gives the illusion of a honeycomb-like appearance that is both striking and functional. A plain dome would not suffice and would not match the characteristics of the rest of the Alhambra. The muqarnas are also used in the various arches that flank some of the Alhambra’s courtyards. These muqarnas are used once again as ornamentation, but they serve a greater purpose: “…They support, like a canopy, filigreed, muqarna (honeycomb) arches that echo the protective role of the palm leaves around oasis pools in the desert. These muqarnas break up the contours of the arches into small, three-dimensional, decorative elements which merge with the surrounding geometric, vegetal and calligraphic ornamentation” (Irwin 2004, 167).

In this instance, the muqarnas grow out of the arches to resemble leaves, giving character to the arches but also breaking up their contours and playing with the lighting. The overall effect enhances the architecture. The muqarnas have been important to the palace because they bring texture, and for lack of a better word, harmony, to the domes and arches.

Courtyards

Another form of ornamentation are the courtyards that give character to the Alhambra. Courtyards might not be considered ornamentation in the conventional sense, but here, courtyards have been important in making connections between architecture and religion. “The romantic imagination of centuries of visitors has been captivated by the special combination of the slender columnar arcades, fountains, and light-reflecting water basins found in those courtyards—the Lion Court in particular. This combination is understood from inscriptions to be a physical realization of descriptions of Paradise in Islamic poetry” (Trachtenberg and Hyman 1986, 219). In Islam and in the Quran, there are many mentions of paradise and the afterlife. In those descriptions, God refers to the greenery and the flowing rivers and coolness of shade and water. At the Alhambra, the goal was to recreate Paradise on Earth within the courtyards.

The courtyards are primarily intended to give character to the palace and make implicit connections with both Paradise and mosques. Ornamental columns that do not bear loads frame the courtyard: “We get very thin columns, single or paired, with no entasis or fluting to show any sense of compression. Exaggerated impost blocks further isolate the supports from their dainty load. The whole seems not so much constructed as spun, painted, conjured” (Kostof 1995, 398). This further contributes to the idea that the courtyard is ornamentation for the palace. It is not necessary, but implemented for the sake of character and symbolism in Islam.

Water

Water is an important element of ornamentation both in the Qur’an and in the courtyards. Kostof elaborates on this idea a lot: “In the Court of Lions, an open space surrounded by porticoes is crisscrossed with thin water channels that slice through the axial pavilions and enter the rooms behind, like a trickle of life seeking its source. The slender columns find what mooring they can in this watery stage, their fragile presence devitalized even more in pale, tremulous reflections.” He continues: “We recall the Koranic descriptions of Paradise, those ‘pavilions beneath which water flows,’ and we see them in the channels and hooded porches of the courts” (Kostof 1995, 398-399).

Geometric patterns

Lastly, geometric patterns are used extensively throughout the Alhambra, as they are in many Islamic pieces of art. The geometries and patterns both give character to the forms, and also enhance the forms by bringing light to certain elements, such as entryways or arches. In the following explanation given by author Robert Irwin, it is evident that the geometric patterns are used to accent the structure of the palace in places like doorways: “The geometric patterns of some of the hangings mimic the structures of the palace’s doors. One has to imagine brilliantly colored carpets and silks blending in with the no less brilliantly colored stucco and woodwork” (Irwin 2004, 33).

The geometric forms are used to enhance architectural forms. But the geometric patterns also give character to the palace: “The most obvious application of tessellation in the Alhambra is in the tile work of the various dados, where repetitive pattern is used to rest the eye” (Irwin 2004, 119). A tessellation of a flat surface is tiling using repetition in geometric forms but with no overlaps or gaps—every surface is covered. In this instance, the geometries provide balance for the viewer because in a palace like the Alhambra, it could cause a sensory overload if there is too much detailing.

Interestingly enough, the Alhambra is unique in its geometric ornamentation because it has all different types of mosaic tiling present throughout the palace: “All seventeen plane groups are present among the mosaics in the Alhambra” (Lovric 2012, 6). This is remarkable, because such mosaic work was costly and time-consuming. But this thoroughness and attention to detail added to the character of the palace, and helped make it world-renowned.

Ornamentation was used in the Alhambra as a means of expressing character and also enhancing the architectural forms. This was done through the use of muqarnas, interpretations of Paradise, and geometric forms. If the palace were stripped of its ornamentation, it would lack a certain magic. Kostof sums it up nicely when he says, “It is impossible to think of this environment of fantasy and introspection, set in an idyllic hilltop amid myrtles, evergreens and running brooks, as anything other than an earthly paradise” (Kostof 1995, 399).  

References

• Calvert, Albert Frederick. The Alhambra, Being a Brief Record of the Arabian Conquest of the Peninsula with a Particular Account of the Mohammedan Architecture and Decoration. London: John Lane, 1907.
• Castera, Jean-Marc. “The Muqarnas Dome of the Hall of the Two Sisters in the Alhambra in Granada.” Ed. Emmer, Michele. Mathematics and Culture V. Berlin: Springer, 2007.
• Irwin, Robert. The Alhambra. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 2004.
• Kostof, Spiro. A History of Architecture: Settings and Rituals. 2nd ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.
• Lovric, Miroslav. “Magic Geometry: Mosaics in the Alhambra.” Journal of Art Historiography 6 (June 2012): 1-29.
• Trachtenberg, M & Hyman, I. Architecture: From Prehistory to Postmodernism: The Western Tradition. New York: Abrams, 1986.