You are probably familiar with this version of Cleopatra:
Elizabeth Taylor is not the first or the last person to
portray this version of Ancient Egypt’s last independent ruler – although, her
depiction may have been the most expensive. Even in her own time, Roman
propaganda painted Cleopatra as a vamp, creating a myth so powerful that it
reverberated through the ages, creating an obsession and an icon shared by
peoples on every continent for the last two thousand years.
But it’s just that: a myth.
Indulge me in quoting a long
passage. I think that Chip Brown of National
Geographic said it better than I could:
“Yet if she is everywhere, Cleopatra is also nowhere, obscured in what biographer Michael Grant called the ‘fog of fiction and vituperation which has surrounded her personality from her own lifetime onwards.’ Despite her reputed powers of seduction, there is no reliable depiction of her face. What images do exist are based on unflattering silhouettes on coins. There is an unrevealing 20-foot-tall relief on a temple at Dendera, and museums display a few marble busts, most of which may not even be of Cleopatra.
“Ancient historians praised her allure, not her looks. Certainly she possessed the ability to roil passions in two powerful Roman men: Julius Caesar, with whom she had one son; and Mark Antony, who would be her lover for more than a decade and the father of three more children. But her beauty, said Greek historian Plutarch, was not ‘the sort that would astound those who saw her; interaction with her was captivating, and her appearance, along with her persuasiveness in discussion and her character that accompanied every interchange, was stimulating. Pleasure also came with the tone of her voice, and her tongue was like a many-stringed instrument.’”
This is a bust that historians think more closely represents Cleopatra’s actual appearance:
“Yet if she is everywhere, Cleopatra is also nowhere, obscured in what biographer Michael Grant called the ‘fog of fiction and vituperation which has surrounded her personality from her own lifetime onwards.’ Despite her reputed powers of seduction, there is no reliable depiction of her face. What images do exist are based on unflattering silhouettes on coins. There is an unrevealing 20-foot-tall relief on a temple at Dendera, and museums display a few marble busts, most of which may not even be of Cleopatra.
“Ancient historians praised her allure, not her looks. Certainly she possessed the ability to roil passions in two powerful Roman men: Julius Caesar, with whom she had one son; and Mark Antony, who would be her lover for more than a decade and the father of three more children. But her beauty, said Greek historian Plutarch, was not ‘the sort that would astound those who saw her; interaction with her was captivating, and her appearance, along with her persuasiveness in discussion and her character that accompanied every interchange, was stimulating. Pleasure also came with the tone of her voice, and her tongue was like a many-stringed instrument.’”
This is a bust that historians think more closely represents Cleopatra’s actual appearance:
And a coin depicting her profile:
If you are like me, then the first thing you might have thought when comparing these versions to Elizabeth Taylor, is that she looks shockingly Greek.
There’s a good reason for that. It’s because Cleopatra was Greek.
She was the last ruler in the Ptolemaic dynasty, a Greek family that ruled Egypt from 305 BCE until around 30 BCE, when Egypt became a province of the Roman Empire. They were a foreign occupier, much like the Romans who came after them. They spoke and kept their records in Greek. The woman we call Cleopatra was actually Cleopatra VII, and is believed to be the only Ptolemy who ever learned Egyptian language. Their names were Greek. We hear Cleopatra and think Egypt: her name is Greek for “glory of the father.” They ruled from the Hellenized Egyptian city of Alexandria – named for the Greek military leader who enabled the Ptolemies to rule Egypt: Alexander the Great.
The Ptolemaic dynasty was known not only for their incest, but also for their fratricide. (They would give the Lannisters and Targaryens a run for their money.) Cleopatra VII was no exception. By the time Cleopatra ascended to the throne in 51 BCE at the age of 18 (co-ruler and wife of her 10-year-old brother – YUCK!), the once glorious Ptolemaic kingdom was crumbling, and their northern neighbor, Rome, was experiencing some troubled times of its own. Cleopatra wanted to Make Alexandria Great Again, so, she shunted her younger brother/husband Ptolemy XIII to the side, and started doing things her way.
It was not unheard of for husband and wife to reign as co-regents, but it was unusual for a female ruler to dump her male co-regent and rule independently. The tables were soon turned on Cleopatra and Egypt became embroiled in a civil war between Cleopatra and the sibs. Ptolemy XIII, seemingly with the support of his remaining brother (also Ptolemy) and sister, Arsinoe, returned to rule Alexandria, while Cleopatra amassed a rebel army in Syria.
This is how Cleopatra came to be so intimately involved with Egypt’s big, bad northern neighbor: Rome.
At the time of the Ptolemaic family feud, Rome was experiencing a fraught moment of its own. A certain gentleman by the name of Julius Caesar was busy dismantling the Roman Republic and naming himself as dictator-for-life while fighting off his competitors. In 48 BCE, Caesar came to Egypt in pursuit of one of his competitors, Pompey the Great, and decided to try to negotiate a settlement in the fratricidal civil war as long as he was in the neighborhood.
Ptolemy, hoping to win Caesar’s favor, had Pompey killed, and presented Caesar with his rival’s head. Caesar was not amused by this stunt and ordered Pompey’s body to be recovered so that he could receive a proper Roman funeral. Despite his displeasure with Ptolemy’s stunt, Caesar invited the warring siblings to the royal palace for a peace conference, however, Ptolemy XIII (who was only thirteen) ordered his guards not to let Cleopatra in.
Cleopatra saw in Caesar an opportunity to regain her throne. Famously, she had herself smuggled to Caesar either in a sack, or rolled up in a rug. Nine months later, Cleopatra had a son named Caesarian or Little Caesar.
Cleopatra, in her early twenties, had a sexual relationship with Julius Caesar, by then in his early fifties. Cleopatra gets most of the “blame” for this relationship, and is looked down on for it, even though Caesar was a known womanizer, having an extramarital affair with a woman half his age. Cleopatra was just a young woman who was married to her underage brother because it was family tradition and was in the middle of fighting a civil war with him. Can you blame a girl?
Cleopatra’s gamble paid off. Caesar awarded Cleopatra control of the throne, something that Ptolemy XIII continued to rebel against. With the help of his other sister, Arsinoe, Ptolemy besieged Cleopatra and Caesar in Alexandria, during which time the famed Library of Alexandria was burned. However, in 47 BCE, Roman forces arrived to help Cleopatra and Ptolemy fled, drowning in the Nile en route.
During all this time, Caesar was still married to Calpurnia in Rome, and Cleopatra was still married to Ptolemy XIII. After his death, tradition dictated for her to marry her other brother, Ptolemy XIV, but after Caesar’s assassination in 44 BCE to prevent future threats to her or her son’s claim to the throne, Cleopatra had her remaining siblings quietly murdered.
You know, for safety.
Egypt and Rome’s alliance was mutually beneficial with Egypt providing grain and ships for the growing empire, and in exchange, Rome left Egypt alone as the last independent state in the Mediterranean – all others having been already subsumed by the Roman war machine. Initially an unpopular ruler among the Macedonian-Greek elite, Cleopatra had to not only ingratiate herself with these elites, but also appeal to the ethnically Egyptian majority. Thanks to her linguistic skills (she may have known as many as nine languages), political savvy, and charm she was able to do just that and steady the sinking ship of state during the decade and a half of her reign.
Caesar’s relationship with Cleopatra was well known in Rome and was highly unpopular. Much of our perception of Cleopatra dates back to unfavorable Roman propaganda that started with those who disliked her relationship with Caesar and was amplified by the later Emperor Octavian when Cleopatra entered a relationship with his rival, Mark Antony. (You may remember him from Shakespeare.
You may also remember from Shakespeare that Julius Caesar was stabbed to death on the senate floor.
Cleopatra and her son Caesarian were in Rome when Caesar was murdered but swiftly returned to Alexandria to cement their rule over Egypt and observe the events in Rome from a safe distance.
After Caesar’s death, Rome descended into a period of civil war as the strong men of the empire competed for control. The main contenders were Mark Antony and Caesar’s nephew and designated heir, Augustus/Octavian. Cleopatra saw an opening for her own claim: she was the mother of Caesar’s son, after all.
If you at least know the title of a certain Shakespearian tragedy, then you probably know who Cleopatra allied with. Hint: It was Mark Antony – who abandoned his wife (Octavian’s sister) and children for a several years long Bacchanalia with Cleopatra in Alexandria, during which time they had three children. First, a pair of twins poetically named Alexander Helios (sun) and Cleopatra Selene (moon), and later another son. At first, Mark Antony supported Octavian’s claim, but eventually the Greco-Egyptian power couple decided (much to Octavian’s ire) to pursue their own claim to Rome.
First, Mark Antony declared support for Cleopatra’s son as Caesar’s heir, rather than Octavian. He then awarded land to each of his children by Cleopatra, making very clear that he never intended to return to his wife, Octavia – not a great way to please his imperial brother-in-law. Octavian convinced the Roman senate to revoke Antony’s title by claiming that he would shift the seat of Rome’s power to Egypt. Then, he declared war on Cleopatra.
Egypt put up a good fight: Cleopatra herself led troops in a naval battle against Rome, but as you probably already know, it was in vain.
One of the most often replicated and portrayed aspects of Cleopatra’s life is her death: Cleopatra and Mark Antony committed suicide in early August, 30 BCE when it became clear that their bid for Rome would fail. The most popular version of the story is that Cleopatra induced an asp (Egyptian Cobra) to bite her, but some historians question if this is true, not least because asp bite is an excruciatingly painful way to die, and Cleopatra would have known this.
(FYI: the video is pretty gross – but fascinating!)
If she did kill herself, some argue that it’s more likely she simply drank poison. As Cleopatra’s body has not yet been found, it’s impossible to know for sure. To again quote Chip Brown:
“The wealth of attention paid to Cleopatra by artists seems inversely proportional to the poverty of material generated about her by archaeologists.”
We all know Cleopatra, but how much do we know her? She is a prime example of the PR problems that have plagued female leaders throughout history. Within patriarchal societies, there tends to be a phobia of powerful women, which helps to explain why powerful women in history – Catherine the Great, Empress Wu Zetian, Empress Dowager Cixi, Empress Theodora, to name a few – have so often been sexualized in a way that discredits them by making them seem repulsive, immoral, or weak. Often, their offenses, if true, are no different from the exploits that kings get away with all the time. But it gives the impression that women can’t be moral rulers and that their path to power lies purely in their sexual prowess.
For example, Cleopatra is best known for her sexual conquests: something that would have been unremarkable if she were male. Because she managed to sleep with not one, but two of the most powerful men in Rome, she has been mythologized as being exceptionally beautiful. Her name is synonymous with sexiness. But what if she wasn’t? Plutarch, the person who recorded her closest to her lifetime, describes her intelligence, wit, and linguistic gifts as being a large part of her appeal, and her appearance as unremarkable. In recent years, archaeologists have found coins with Cleopatra’s rather homely profile, which has disrupted most of our perceptions of her. But why do we care if she was beautiful? No one gets their knickers in a knot over whether Mark Antony was a hunk.
Why do we know so little about a woman who is so universally recognized? Partly, because of the smear campaign launched by Octavian. After Cleopatra’s death, Egypt was annexed as a Roman province. Unlike earlier Ptolemies, Cleopatra had bothered to learn Egyptian language. She made a concerted effort to project the image of herself as Egyptian (in statues) by equating herself with the Egyptian mother goddess, Isis. The Romans didn’t have a problem incorporating other cults into their Empire, but allegiance to the Emperor was non-negotiable.
Another reason why so little is known about Cleopatra is that much of what was Alexandria during Cleopatra’s time is now under water. Although there are underwater archaeologists, it is understandable that excavating a submerged site presents some challenges.
A final, recent challenge in Egyptian archaeology is the current political climate in Egypt. As I’ve been researching Ancient Egyptian babes these past few weeks, it has become increasingly apparent that many leaps in our understanding of Ancient Egypt have occurred since the year 2000. Advances in DNA technology in particular has helped answer a lot of questions about the mummies the Ancient Egyptians left lying around. However, since the 2011 revolution and subsequent instability, it has not only been more difficult for research teams to work in Egypt, but many archaeological sites have become the targets of looting. Egyptian antiquities sell for a boatload of money on the grey market but for historians, the most valuable resource any dig site has to offer is its context: where objects are in relation to each other, their depth in the soil, etc. In order to extract antiquities for illicit sale, looters destroy the context that would answer so many of our questions about ancient mysteries.
Once that context is gone, it is gone forever.
Sources:
Once that context is gone, it is gone forever.
Sources:
Wikipedia
National Geographic
Smithsonian
History Channel
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