Latest news with #Babylonian
Spectator
2 hours ago
- Politics
- Spectator
The power of wax seals has never waned
In our electronic age it hardly comes as a surprise that Pat MacFadden's Cabinet Office intends to do away with the use of seals on most official documents, such as grants of patents to inventors. Old-fashioned wax seals, hanging from the bottom of parchment documents, may be seen as cumbersome, but most sealings nowadays consist of an embossed impression on a thin wax wafer. I used to seal documents myself when I occupied the ancient office of 'Registrary' in my Cambridge college. Most memorable was the sale of land the college had owned in Rickmansworth since the 16th century – by now a muddy private road thought too costly to maintain. And last week, when the name of a new Chancellor of Cambridge was proclaimed, we were told that 'in evidence of which we have caused these our Letters Patent to be created, and the Common Seal of said University to be affixed to them'. Sealing these documents conveyed authenticity, but also conferred solemnity. Four thousand years ago, any Babylonian worth his salt carried a small cylinder seal with which he could certify valuable packages and documents. In England, the custom of officially sealing documents can be traced back beyond 1066, to the reign of Edward the Confessor, so it is appropriate to hesitate before dismissively approving the abandonment of seals. Abolition will not be total. There are certain documents which will still require a proper royal seal, such as letters patent creating peers of the realm. Here colour coding comes into play. Those seals are green. Documents concerning the royal family have blue seals. The appointment of bishops merits a vermilion seal, and red is the colour of most full-scale sealings using melted beeswax (or artificial substitutes). Royal seals are magnificent double-sided objects; the matrix from which the impression is made is a closeable metal box, and they hang from the document rather than being stamped upon it. They are symbols of power and are designed to impress. A real lumpy wax seal issued by sovereign authority was not usually a free gift. Medieval Italian cities that begged for privileges from the Holy Roman Emperor had to pay handsomely for whatever sealed documents they managed to obtain, leaving them disgruntled and rebellious. Churning out mountains of sealed documents was a valuable money-spinner for the medieval papacy. Clients paid well above the already substantial cost of producing a handwritten document on expensive, good quality parchment, and the wax used in the seal was not cheap. To acquire the best wax it was necessary to turn to lands beyond the authority of popes and emperors – to Muslim North Africa and Mongol Crimea, where Venetian and Genoese merchants made fat profits exporting blocks of beeswax to Europe. Most of it was dispersed into the atmosphere as candle wax (smelly tallow being impermissible in churches), but much of the rest survives as wax seals appended to charters. Fleeing from England in 1688, following a disastrous reign and William of Orange's invasion, King James II supposedly dropped the royal seal into the mud of the Thames so that his rival could not gain control of it. He understood better than Pat MacFadden that wax seals are, and always have been, the ultimate guarantee of authority.
New Indian Express
5 days ago
- Politics
- New Indian Express
Death of the dictionary
Samuel Johnson, the dictionarist Creative Commons Opinions Death of the dictionary The written word is no longer the most efficient way to store knowledge. Thanks to a glut of enabling software and hardware mankind is turning back to its earliest mode of encoding culture: audiovisual media. Dictionarist Dr Johnson would've tutted at how we treat language today Pratik Kanjilal The Gutenberg revolution appears to be waning as the written word, the defining mark of civilisation—whether on Babylonian stelae or in racy detective novels—recedes in the face of the ever-compelling power of images and voice. The written word is shaking off the grip of regimentation, which had tightened over the centuries since printing caught on in Europe and later, dictionaries formalised language. Young people no longer read editorials to learn hieratic language. Instead, they are at ease with creoles, pidgins, slang and memes. But ironically, high feelings persist about language as a political and cultural marker of identity, purity and authenticity. Notable exception: at the press conference after signing the India-UK free trade agreement, a struggling Hindi translator was told to feel free to use English words. Meanwhile, Maharashtra is upset about the three-language formula. Governor C P Radhakrishnan has weighed in on the problem of 'linguistic hatred', and recalled seeing a north Indian man in his home state of Tamil Nadu being beaten up for not knowing Tamil. Language politics in Tamil Nadu, an element of the Self-Respect Movement, was a bulwark against the Union government's promotion of Hindi, which sought to flatten cultural diversity and make the states politically accessible to Delhi. Many states in the east, west and south didn't enjoy being pushed around, and Tamil Nadu made it an enduring political issue. But it is rare for someone from the state to admit that linguistic assertion has an unpleasant side. An extreme example: the Second World War was triggered by Hitler's determination to connect German-speaking populations in East Prussia and Austria with the German nation—'Ein volk, ein Reich, ein sprache', to rip off a Nazi slogan concerning the Führer. That was over 80 years ago. In the mean time, the world has globalised at a speed not seen since classical times. This could have been an era of bridge languages like Urdu. Instead, machines, the internet and their users are beating down the formalisms of language, and what was unthinkable is now doable. When Kemal Ataturk switched Turkish from the Arabic-based Ottoman script to the Roman alphabet in 1928, it was a radical act. The measure, intended to bring Turkey closer to the West, was denounced by critics as a 'cultural rupture', as older texts became inaccessible to younger people. Perhaps it worked only because 6 percent of Muslims were literate at the time. But ever since Usenet launched group communications over the internet, before most languages had digital fonts, phonetic communications in the Roman alphabet have been commonplace. And now, AI-powered translation is the norm. When Tony Blair's Britain asserted multiculturalism in the late 1990s, the road sign of Bangladeshi-intense Brick Lane in London was rewritten in two languages, English and Bangla. When Monica Ali's novel Brick Lane became a bestseller, it felt like borders were dissolving. Decades later, in the US, which has become multicultural without quite preparing for it, machine translation is creating weirdness. Public institutions like hospitals and transport have signs in multiple languages including Hindi and Bangla, but what they say sounds inhuman. Naturally, because this language is machine-made. Across borders, there is concern that young people do not read these days; but let's focus on what they do read. YouTube loyalists read closed captions generated by a machine. These are frequently incorrect, but it doesn't bother anyone because the world's language purists have either given up the ghost or the struggle. The dictionary is just another book and books are archival legacy media. If Samuel Johnson were around, the dictionarist who said that language is the dress of thought would have dismissed us as ragtags, with bobtails barely concealing our modesty in scanty hashtags. Why is this happening? Information storage and retrieval began with visual and auditory media—cave paintings, dance performances, oral epics and songs. But why are they regaining salience? Because the written word was the most efficient storage medium for about five millenniums, from the clay tablet libraries of Babylon to Dewey Decimal via the Gutenberg press. But over the last three decades, magnetic and optical data storage has scaled up so rapidly that the contents of a refrigerator-sized magnetic tape bank of the 1970s now fit on a microSD card. With AI, it is normal for data processing to use as much power as small towns. The written word is no longer essential for storage, and the human race is again embracing the audiovisual media with which it had begun to encode culture millenniums ago. Ironically, it's a step back—there is now room enough for all the misbegotten utterances that the race can dream up. In a strange case in bilingual Belgium, an attendant in a train running through Dutch-speaking territory greeted a passenger in French and faced proceedings right away. The proceedings have just ended, and the harassed attendant has turned language activist—he is selling coffee mugs bearing greetings in both languages to promote linguistic amity. The resurgence of audiovisual media at the expense of text is starkly visible in politics. From West Bengal to Washington, visual media personalities are prominent in legislatures, and few of their most important associates can be accused of learning, or even literacy. Win some, lose some, say the Americans, who are postmodern—in the sense that they have never respected linguistic formalisms very much. Pratik Kanjilal | SPEAKEASY | Senior Fellow, Henry J Leir Institute of Migration and Human Security, The Fletcher School, Tufts University (Views are personal) (Tweets @pratik_k)
National Geographic
6 days ago
- General
- National Geographic
What was it like to live in Old Babylon?
At its peak, the Old Babylonian Empire rose to be one of the biggest civilizations the world had seen–but what was daily life like? Along with the pioneering legal code of Hammurabi, a wealth of tablets provide rich details on how Babylonians settled disputes, managed family life, and celebrated festivals. MIGHTY BABYLON This rendering of Babylon is dominated by the Etemenanki ziggurat as it would have looked during the sixth century B.C. Believed by some to be the Tower of Babel described in the Bible, the ziggurat had been rebuilt many times over the centuries. The original structure was first built in the 18th century B.C., during the time of King Hammurabi who laid the foundation of Babylon's future greatness. JEAN-CLAUDE GOLVIN, MUSEUM OF ANCIENT ARLES The city of Babylon, flanking the Euphrates River in Lower Mesopotamia, reached the zenith of its early age during the reign of King Hammurabi (r.1792-1750 B.C.). Under his rule, the capital of the Babylonian empire was consolidated as a cosmopolitan hub, attracting migrants from across the region. The Empire as a whole had been gaining power and prestige during the Old Babylonian Empire (1894–1595 B.C.), but Hammurabi went on to take over large swaths of territory in Mesopotamia, conquering far flung cities such as Ur, Eshnunna, Assur, Nineveh, and Tuttul. As Hammurabi's reach extended, much of the kingdom flourished—culturally, economically, socially, and in religion— especially in the capital, Babylon. A PRAYER FOR THE KING Made in the 18th century B.C., this copper statuette of a praying figure is dedicated to the god Amurru. An inscription pleads for the protection of Hammurabi, king of Babylon. Daily life, family, and divorce The thousands of cuneiform texts that survive from this time provide fascinating glimpses into the lives of Babylonians. They record the exploits of kings, military clashes, diplomatic embassies, and legal codes. They also offer tantalizing insights into the everyday lives of the people of Mesopotamia: their regular chores, what worried them, how they thought about family, and what they bought and sold. These surprisingly detailed documents, many in the form of clay tablets, show that almost 4,000 years ago Babylonian society was not so different from our own. The family was the center point around which the whole community was structured. The typical house where a Babylonian family lived had two or three rooms, sometimes more, which were built around an open courtyard. Some rooms must have been used as bedrooms, but there's evidence to suggest that others served as workshops or stores. The wealthiest homes had extra amenities, such as bathrooms, rooms with metal security systems for guarding precious objects, and rooms that could serve as religious sanctuaries. SEAL OF THE GODS This seal was made around the time of Hammurabi of Babylon's reign in the early second millennium B.C. Families in Babylon were generally based on a monogamous marriage. Polygamy was allowed by law but only in specific situations; for example, if the first wife didn't produce a child or in cases such as a merchant who resided in another town for a long time and contracted a second marriage there. Sometimes the marriage agreement—known as rikistu in Akkadian, a word that also applied to other types of contracts—was made in writing, stipulating details such as the dowry the bride's family should offer. In this society, marriage did not have to be forever, and could be revoked through divorce. Engagements could also be broken off in the betrothal phase. Several Babylonian texts show how these breakups were carried out. In the language of the day it was called 'cutting the hem.' (Think customer service is bad now? Read this 4,000-year-old complaint letter) In one text from the 18th century B.C., a man called Aham-nirši wants to dissolve his upcoming marriage. The text reads as follows: 'In the presence of these witnesses, they questioned Aham-nirši: 'Is this woman (still to be considered) your wife?' He declared: '(You can) hang me on a peg, yea dismember me—I will not stay married (to her)!' Thus he said. They questioned his wife and she answered: 'I (still) love my husband.' Thus she answered. He, however, refused. He knotted up her hem and cut it off.' IMPOSING LAW This stela, inscribed with 282 laws, contains the legal code promulgated by Hammurabi, king of Babylon. The relief above the text depicts Hammurabi standing before the god of justice, Shamash. Louvre Museum, Paris. THE CODE OF HAMMURABI, inscribed on a stela originally placed in the temple of Marduk in Babylon in the 18th century B.C., is the most iconic legal compendium from Mesopotamia. In the prologue, the king justifies his role as lawmaker: When Anu . . . and Bel . . . assigned to Marduk . . . dominion over earthly man, and made him great . . . they called Babylon by his illustrious name, made it great on earth, and founded an everlasting kingdom in it, whose foundations are laid so solidly as those of heaven and earth; then Anu and Bel called by name me, Hammurabi . . . to bring about the rule of righteousness in the land, to destroy the wicked and the evildoers, so that the strong should not harm the weak. Adoption and heirs Having children was seen as the fundamental objective of marriage, and there were protocols if a couple could not have children for any reason. They were conscious that the womb played an essential role in reproduction. The Babylonian epic called Atrahasis, about the creation of humans and the Great Flood, includes the line 'the womb was open and making babies.' Medicinal texts have survived that show the Babylonians used certain herbs, amulets, or even magical arts to try to overcome sterility. ROYAL JUSTICE A supplicant pleads before King Hammurabi of Babylon, who sits enthroned. This 20th-century illustration is by Robert Thom. Couples without biological children also had the possibility of adopting one, either as a baby, an older child, or a teenager. The phenomenon of adoption must have been relatively common, given the large number of texts on adoption that endured. By means of this act, a bond of legal filiation was created between adopter and adoptee, analogous to biological filiation. One text states that: 'Yasirum and Ama-Suen have taken as their son a suckling baby, called Ili-awili, the son of Ayartum, from Ayartum, his mother, and Erištum, her husband.' There were many reasons to carry out an adoption: to obtain an heir, or an apprentice, or a person to take care of the adoptive parents in old age. Having someone to take care of funeral rites was another reason for couples to adopt. As for the adoptee, they might gain by inheriting an estate, learning a trade or, in the case of young children, being raised from infancy. Adoptions in which a child became an apprentice to their adoptive father is attested to in numerous documents. A street in ancient Babylon reimagined in a late 20th-century painting by Balage Balogh. BALAGE BALOGH/ SCALA, FLORENCE EVIDENCE ON HOW various Mesopotamians regarded abortion produces a mixed picture. One surviving medical text from the region seems to accept the practice, giving instructions for how a termination should be performed. It is addressed to: 'A pregnant woman, so that her fruit [the fetus] is expelled.' It goes on to list eight plants that should be crushed, mixed with wine and drunk on an empty stomach. However, the Middle Assyrian Laws, from the 14th century B.C., establish a terrible punishment for any woman who makes the decision to abort: 'If a woman aborts her fetus by her own action and they then prove the charges against her and find her guilty, they shall impale her, they shall not bury her. If she dies as a result of aborting her fetus, they shall impale her, they shall not bury her.' For example, a tablet dating to the 15th century B.C. and found in Nuzi, a city in northern Mesopotamia, reads: 'Huitilla, son of Warteya, has given his son Naniya in adoption to Tirwiya, servant of Enna-mati. Tirwiya shall provide Naniya with a wife and train him in the weaver's trade . . . If Tirwiya fails to train Naniya in the weaver's trade, Huitilla may in such circumstances take back his son Naniya.' Lithuania's timeless city Artisans and merchants It was normal in Babylon for young men to be trained in a trade at home, usually following in the footsteps of their father. There are dozens of certified cases of scribes, priests, and craftsmen who passed their profession down several generations. On other occasions, and by means of an apprenticeship contract, a recognized professional took on an apprentice in order to train them, as in the previous example where the weaver Tirwiya took on Naniya as both apprentice and adoptive son. (Age-old secrets revealed from the world's first metropolises) The Babylonians valued craftsmanship. In the region of Sumer (in Lower Mesopotamia, in southern Iraq), most of the craftsmen and merchants were linked to the institutions of the palace and the temple. By contrast, in King Hammurabi's Babylon, there's evidence of many of these individuals working privately. Archaeologists have retrieved thousands of clay tablets that record deliveries (usually of barley) being made to specific individuals and often indicating their profession. For example, the tablets mention gardeners, blacksmiths, bakers, and builders. Many people, generally women, children, and enslaved people, worked in trades related to the textile industry, such as weaving, carding (disentangling and preparing fibers), or fulling (cleansing and increasing a woven cloth's thickness). The goods they produced were sold throughout Mesopotamia by merchants following well-established trading routes. Improved infrastructure and irrigation, trade, and later, military expansion all contributed to providing the empire with wealth. OFFERINGS This engraved tablet from Babylon shows gods and people making offerings. 18th century B.C., Louvre, Paris. The strength of Babylonian society came from numerous aspects, including its centralized government, diplomacy, and laws. The Code of Hammurabi—282 laws spread throughout the empire—established a legal system, social order, economic rules, laws for women, punishments, and more. There was no shortage of occasions to resort to justice. These could be disputes over property, inheritance conflicts, theft, or divorce. Judges were respected for their in-depth knowledge of the legal codes and of the appropriate punishments for breaking those codes. Several judges could be present at a trial; in fact, the more judges there were, the greater the sense of legitimacy for the parties involved. All trials were conducted pro se, with the litigants representing themselves; professional lawyers didn't exist in Babylonia. Lawsuits over serious cases were dealt with by judges linked to the monarchy. A document from the 18th century B.C. records how three people who sued a woman named Sumu-la-ilu over the ownership of a house and orchards had their case heard by the king himself. 'They came before the king for litigation. The king [judged] the case of the woman Sumu-la-ilu. Henceforth, whoever [shall bring] a lawsuit shall pay 200 [shekels] of silver.' (The ancient empire that civilization forgot) Lovers of leisure Entertainment would have been a fundamental part of daily life for ancient Babylonians. There's evidence that they played instruments, such as the flute, and practiced dance. In addition to musicians and dancers, there were other professional entertainers, including singers, snake charmers, acrobats, and bear handlers. They played games too, one of the most popular being dice for which they used the cube-shaped ankle bones of animals. These dice could also be used to predict the future when thrown on clay tablets marked with signs of the zodiac. RELAXING IN BABYLON A wealthy Babylonian family in the garden of their mansion, as depicted in a 20th-century illustration. The Babylonians took part in religious festivals and processions, including the Akitu, or New Year's festival, which held great importance. This festival celebrated Marduk, primary deity of the Babylonian pantheon and commemorated his victory over the goddess Tiamat. The Akitu was a moment to unite heaven and earth, rich and poor, gods and ordinary people. This societal foundation laid in the old empire paved the way for Babylon to become a jewel of the ancient world. A detail from an illustration of a relief at Nimrud depicting the god Marduk as a dragon. Ninth century B.C., Louvre Museum, Paris. BABYLON'S NEW YEAR'S festival, Akitu, had its roots in an ancient ritual from the third millennium B.C. related to barley. It took place around March and April. A key moment came when the Enuma Elish creation epic was read aloud in the House of the New Year, situated north of Babylon. This ancient text tells how the god Marduk took the body of his enemy, the goddess Tiamat, and split it in two to create the heavens and the earth. A statue of Nabû, son of the supreme god Marduk, was brought from the nearby city of Borsippa; later all the ritual statues were paraded before the joyous populace. The festival was observed in the region for over a millennium, until as late as the third century A.D. This story appeared in the July/August 2025 issue of National Geographic History magazine.
Shafaq News
6 days ago
- General
- Shafaq News
+500 artifacts stalled: Al-Anbar Museum waits security clearance
Shafaq News – Al-Anbar The reopening of the al-Anbar Cultural Museum remains on hold as authorities await security clearance to transfer more than 500 archaeological artifacts from Baghdad, an official informed Shafaq News. Located in Ramadi, the museum—founded in 1981—was heavily damaged during earlier military operations. It has since undergone full restoration by the provincial government, including new display cases, surveillance systems, fire safety equipment, and environmental controls. Speaking to Shafaq News, Ammar Ali, Director of Antiquities in al-Anbar, confirmed that the Ministry of Culture approved the artifacts' return. 'They've been catalogued and prepared for transport. Everything on our side is complete—we are simply waiting for the green light,' he explained. Meanwhile, researchers and historians consider the museum's reopening essential to reviving the province's cultural identity. Omar al-Rawi, a historian specializing in Iraqi heritage, described al-Anbar as rich in archaeological heritage, spanning Assyrian, Babylonian, Abbasid, and Ottoman eras. He also warned that keeping the artifacts in Baghdad risks deterioration and detachment from their original context. 'Keeping these pieces outside the province limits public access—especially for the younger generation, which has never seen its own material history up close.' In Ramadi, civil activist Mohammed Fahd al-Eisawi described the museum's reopening as essential for restoring social cohesion, calling it 'not optional—but necessary.' He further envisioned it as a cultural and educational hub that could help build a counter-narrative to the province's recent wartime legacy.
Time of India
23-07-2025
- General
- Time of India
From ancient Egypt to military time: A simple guide to understanding 12-hour vs 24-hour clocks
Different time formats might seem baffling at first, but the 12-hour and 24-hour clocks each tell fascinating stories about how we've measured our days throughout history. The familiar 12-hour system, splitting each day into AM and PM periods, actually traces back to ancient Egypt. Those early civilisations divided their days based on sunrise and sunset - a pretty logical approach when you think about it. What's quite remarkable is how the world has shifted over time. While Americans and a few other countries still cling to the 12-hour format, most of Europe and military organisations worldwide have embraced the 24-hour clock. This system has even older roots, stemming from ancient Babylonian timekeeping methods. The 24-hour format has gained popularity for one simple reason, it cuts out the confusion. No more wondering whether that important meeting is 8 in the morning or evening. Whether you're glancing at your watch or programming your alarm, both systems keep us moving in sync with time's relentless march. Learning to switch between them has become pretty essential in our connected world, especially when you're dealing with international schedules or just trying to decode that cryptic train timetable. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Cat Keeps Hugging Friend Before Going To The Vet – The Vet Paled When He Saw Them Tips and Tricks Undo Understanding the 12-hour clock system The traditional 12-hour clock splits each day into two halves. AM stands for "ante meridiem" - basically meaning before midday. PM means "post meridiem" - after midday. The day kicks off at 12:00 AM, which is midnight, runs through to 12:00 PM at noon, then continues the cycle. It's the format most people grew up with, though it can get confusing around midnight and noon. How the 24-hour clock works Military time, as some call it, runs straight from 00:00 at midnight through to 23:59 just before the next midnight. No AM or PM needed - it's one continuous count through the entire day. Much of the world uses this system, and it eliminates the confusion around midday and midnight. Converting 12-hour times to 24-hour format Morning times stay pretty straightforward. Anything from 1:00 AM through 11:59 AM keeps the same numbers, just drop the AM. So 7:30 AM becomes 07:30. The tricky bit is midnight - 12:00 AM turns into 00:00. Afternoon and evening times need adding up. From 1:00 PM onwards, you add 12 hours to get the 24-hour equivalent. That means 3:00 PM becomes 15:00, and 9:15 PM turns into 21:15. The exception is noon - 12:00 PM stays as 12:00. Going from 24-hour back to 12-hour time Early hours from 00:00 to 11:59 are morning times. Midnight (00:00) becomes 12:00 AM, while everything from 01:00 to 11:59 just gets AM added. So 06:30 becomes 6:30 AM. For afternoon and evening, times from 12:00 to 12:59 stay the same but get PM added. Anything from 13:00 onwards needs 12 subtracted from the hour, then add PM. That makes 18:45 into 6:45 PM, and 22:10 becomes 10:10 PM. Some practical examples Here are some common times to help you get the hang of it: Midnight: 12:00 AM = 00:00 Morning: 1:00 AM = 01:00 Noon: 12:00 PM = 12:00 Afternoon: 1:00 PM = 13:00 Evening: 6:30 PM = 18:30 Late night: 11:59 PM = 23:59 Simple rules to remember Morning times in AM stay the same numbers, just lose the AM for 24-hour format. For PM times, add 12 to the hour (except for 12 PM which stays as 12). Remember that 12 AM is actually midnight and becomes 00:00, while 12 PM is noon and stays as 12:00. These are the two times that trip most people up. Once you've practised a few conversions, switching between formats becomes second nature. Whether you're booking flights, reading train timetables or just trying to figure out what time that international meeting actually starts, these rules will sort you out. Ready to navigate global policies? Secure your overseas future. Get expert guidance now!
