Is This Man Julius Caesar?

The Owl
Vol. 2, Issue 30
July 31, 2008
Baltimore, Maryland

Dear Inquiring Traveler,

I left you last week with the highly publicized discovery of the only bust of Caesar made from life. It was found almost intact—only the nose is broken—2,000 years after the dictator’s death. But there’s a glitch. Read on to find out more.

Regards,

Editor, The Owl

After being Caesar’s lover, Cleopatra seduced the new man in power in Rome, Mark Antony. On their first encounter (here rendered by painter Lawrence Alma-Tadema), she dressed like the goddess Venus and simply captivated Mark Antony who followed her to Alexandria, forgetting all state and family duties. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

And Caesar Emerged from the River (part 2)

by Catherine Lapp

The excitement about the discovery was worldwide and the media coverage extensive—The Times in the U.K., CNN in the U.S., Le Monde in France, to cite just a few—until a couple of critical minds started asking questions:

1. On what basis can we claim that the bust was made from life, especially when there are no such busts to compare the new discovery with? (Portraits of Caesar on contemporary coins are too small to be of any help.)

2. Is this man really Caesar? Photo Courtesy of C. CHARY/DRASSM—Museum of Ancient Arles.

   How do we know that it’s a portrait of Caesar? The ageing man looks like a pretty typical middle-aged Roman. He could very well be a local dignitary, a successful businessman, or just a good ol’ grandpa.

3. Why throw away the statue of Caesar after his murder? As Mary Beard (the witty classics editor of the Times Literary Supplement) notes, Caesar was deified right after his death. Do you throw a new god to the river?

4. What allows us to date the sculpture to Caesar’s lifetime anyway? The style of the bust suggests on the contrary that it was carved later, during the time of Augustus’ reign. Also, because it was discovered in the silt of the river with a sculpture of the god Neptune that can be dated to the third century, it is very likely that the alleged Caesar ended up in the Rhone much later than the first century BC. So much for the theory of discarding a general fallen from grace right after his death!

So whose portrait is it? If it’s Caesar’s, it’s not from life. And frankly, when you look at it closely, it bears only a vague resemblance to the post-mortem portraits we know (for one thing, there is simply too much hair!). Most probably, it is the portrait of somebody who will stay anonymous for eternity.

Mistakes, Scams, …

We shouldn’t be too harsh on the discoverer. He got excited. “These really are his features. I recognized them immediately,” declared Luc Long about the man portrayed. And archaeologists, just like scientists, are constantly on the hunt for a sensational discovery that will stir up media interest, the general public’s curiosity, and sponsors’ generosity.

At least it’s not a scam like the so-called “James’ ossuary” that allegedly contained the remains of “James, son of Joseph, brother of Jesus.” The last part of the inscription carved on the back of the box was a fake commissioned by its modern owner.  At the time of the “discovery”, I personally found it difficult to believe that the owner of the ossuary—Tel Aviv entrepreneur and collector Oded Golan—had never had the curiosity to read the inscription on an artifact he had owned for 30 years. It turned out that not only did he read it, but also found it so devoid of interest that he decided to supplement it with a few carefully chosen words that turned an otherwise insignificant stone box into the first ever object to document Jesus as an historic figure.

… and Hope?

Also competing for the title of “discovery of the century” is Cleopatra’s tomb. Zahi Hawass, the flamboyant head of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, thinks he has found the resting place of the Egyptian Queen and her lover, Roman general Mark Anthony, under a temple at Taposiris Magna, 28 miles west of Alexandria. There has already been some coverage in the media and controversy has followed hot on its heels.

But the Egyptian summer is too hot even for the most dedicated archaeologists. Excavations are on hold until the heat abates. Perhaps this fall will bring news of the long-forgotten tomb of the last Pharaoh of Egypt who bore Caesar a son before becoming Mark Anthony’s mistress. Or maybe the tomb of Cleopatra will join the bust of Caesar in the land of hyped-up archaeological discoveries.