Reflections on Timeliness and Academic Integrity
Nearly ten years ago I found myself recalling a journey to Ireland. I had flown with Ryanair, and, upon landing, the cabin crew announced that we had arrived ahead of schedule. They added, with evident pride, that ninety-nine point nine-nine per cent of the company’s flights touched down before the appointed time. I was suitably impressed; it is no small thing for an airline to speak of its performance with such confidence.
Later I learnt the secret of this apparent success: the interval fixed between departure and arrival had been set rather generously. Thus, even if the aircraft completed its voyage in the ordinary fashion, the probability of reaching “early” was high. To be sure, when timetables are arranged one must take into account weather, air-traffic, safety requirements and other practical considerations; so it would be unjust to label every extra minute as a mere marketing ploy. Yet the incident is a striking reminder of how deeply our perception of an institution’s efficiency is shaped by its scheduling.
The story of the late Mawlānā Saʿīd al-Raḥmān Aʿẓamī’s journal and the proclamations of airlines that they arrive before time both point to the same reality: punctuality is not simply a matter of chasing the hands of a clock, but of planning one’s work so well that others are not left waiting. The methods differ: one body, through diligence and foresight, completes its tasks ahead of the deadline; the other, by building suitable margin into the timetable, enhances the likelihood of arriving punctually.
My mention of the Mawlānā, therefore, is not a light-hearted analogy alone; it is also a recollection of his administrative acumen and a luminous facet of his scholarly life. To publish an academic periodical consistently before the due date is no trivial affair. One must co-ordinate the procurement of articles, editorial review, proofreading, printing and distribution. The slightest disorder may disturb the entire enterprise. When, notwithstanding all these stages, an issue appears early, it is a sign that behind the scenes there exists an ordered system, sustained attention and a keen sense of responsibility.
Such seemingly modest incidents from the lives of scholars like Mawlānā Saʿīd al-Raḥmān Aʿẓamī (raḥimahu Allāh) teach us that service to knowledge is not confined to books, essays and lectures; it is undergirded by discipline, appreciation of time, accountability and sincerity. The timely—even premature—publication of a scholarly journal is itself a form of khidmat al-ʿilm, for the benefit of knowledge lies not only in its content but also in its prompt accessibility.
Hence, whenever a captain now announces that we have arrived ahead of schedule, I shall almost certainly remember that remark of my teacher. In my mind’s eye the wings of the aircraft will appear, and alongside them the issues of al-Baʿth al-Islāmī that used to reach readers before the month stated on the cover.
Perhaps at that very moment these words will rise to my lips: “Even the airlines seem to be the followers of Mawlānā Saʿīd al-Raḥmān Aʿẓamī; the only difference is that while the Mawlānā’s journal reached its readers ahead of time, the airlines deliver their passengers.”
Such a sentence is for me a gentle means of reviving the memory of my teacher, not a criticism of his person. His scholarly greatness is beyond dispute, his services beyond measure, and his remembrance a cause of reverence. Finding such pleasing parallels in his life is, in truth, an admission that the apparently minor events of his days endure long in the mind and, when illuminated by new experiences, assume fresh meanings.
May Allah Most High grant Mawlānā Saʿīd al-Raḥmān Aʿẓamī complete forgiveness, accept his scholarly labours, raise his rank and allow his blessings to continue among his students and the wider circles of learning. ʾĀmīn, yā Rabb al-ʿālamīn.
