History

Interview excerpt

A sparkling green emerald in a turquoise sea, crowned by an azure sky and formed by volcanic rock, Mauritius is a small independent island nation of 787 square miles in the Indian Ocean with a population of 1.2 million people. It is known for its beaches, reefs, and tranquil sea. Jayshree Mungur-Medhi, an archaeologist and heritage expert on the island, participated in the excavations at Mare aux Songes, where a cache of dodo bones and other fossils were uncovered.

MP: When did we first become aware of the existence of the dodo?

JM: “Dumb as the dodo” is a saying which is famous worldwide, but actually the dodo only existed in Mauritius. Endemic to Mauritius, the dodo,  Raphus cucullatus, became extinct in the late 17th century shortly after its existence was discovered and described. It seems that it was first seen and reported by the Portuguese in 1507, who named it “Dodo” as  doido means “stupid” in Portuguese. However, the origin of the name is still debated by scientists. In any case, reported in the 16th century and extinct by the late 17th century, the existence of the live dodo was only known for about 100 years.

MP: The dodo is often depicted in caricature form, but what did the strange bird look like?

JM: Since its discovery in the 16th century, the dodo has been described in different ways; for instance, in 1598 Admiral Jacob Van Neck, a Dutch sailor, described it as “larger than a swan having the body of an ostrich and feet of an eagle,” while Sir Hamon l’Estrange mentioned that “the dodo’s chest was covered in chestnut brown feathers.” Some Dutch sailors described the dodo as having quills on its sides and no wings. Such differing descriptions of the dodo by sailors led to a mythical reconstitution of the bird resulting in a fat, ugly, and dumb bird. It has been associated with the Casuary of India and some thought of it as being close to the turkey.

Scientists excavating at Mare aux Songes. Kenneth Rijsdick, Dutch paleontologist and leader of the project, Anwar Janoo, Mauritian paleontologist, and Nipon Medhi doing fieldwork. (Courtesy Jayshree Mungur-Medhi)

Recent archival studies, especially in South Africa, have exposed more Dutch sailors, travelers, artists, and naturalists’ accounts of the dodo and other extinct flora and fauna of the Mauritian soil as well as of other Mascarene islands. These vivid accounts and descriptions of the fauna, including that of Joris Laerle, have helped to reconstruct an artistic depiction of the dodo. Aboard a fleet under Admiral Wolphert Harmenszoon, anchored in Mauritius in 1601 for a month, was Joris Laerle, an artist of exceptional ability. His job was to draw topographical landfalls, suitable anchorage areas, natural history specimens, and any other items of interest in his journal. Laerle drew pictures of Mauritian birds, the only sketches made from real life observations and on Mauritian soil. Close examination of these journal illustrations has provided better insight into some extinct birds’ external morphology.

Read the full interview in the article ‘Finding Mauritius’ Most Elusive Citizen: The Extinct Dodo’ available in the May – June 2024 50th Issue Special Edition of Ancient Origins Magazine. Get it here!

Featured Image: A now-extinct Dodo bird emerging from the mist. Source: Daniel Eskridge / Adobe Stock

By Micki Pistorius

In the rugged landscapes of southern Madagascar’s Isalo massif, an ancient archaeological site known as Teniky has long puzzled researchers. The site features vast stone terraces, hollow niches carved into cliffs, and large stone chambers, unlike any other structures found in Madagascar or the East African coast. New research by archaeologists, led by Professor Dr. Stephan Schreurs and published in Azania: Archaeological Research in Africa, suggests that the site may have been built by a Zoroastrian community around 1,000 years ago, reports Phys.

If confirmed, this would mark a groundbreaking discovery, linking Madagascar to ancient Persian religious practices and the extensive Indian Ocean trade networks of the first millennium AD.

Teniky: rock-cut niche N1 with bench. (Schreurs et al. 2024/Azania)

A Unique Discovery in the Isalo Massif

The Teniky site is located in Isalo National Park, deep in the island’s southern highlands. Known to researchers for over a century, it was visited by French naturalists Alfred and Guillaume Grandidier in the 1940s, who hypothesized that the structures may have been built by shipwrecked Portuguese sailors. A later excavation in the 1960s uncovered a fragment of a 16th-century Chinese jar, hinting at a connection to long-distance trade.

However, these early investigations were limited due to the site’s remote location—nearly 20 kilometers from the nearest road, accessible only after a strenuous hike through rugged terrain. As a result, no detailed archaeological work was undertaken until Schreurs and his colleagues began excavations in 2019. High-resolution satellite imagery helped reveal the true extent of the site, prompting the team to carry out more focused field surveys and excavations.

At Teniky, they discovered circular and rectangular niches carved into cliff faces, stone basins, rock-cut terraces, and two large chambers supported by stone pillars. These findings were unusual, bearing no resemblance to known Malagasy architecture. More significantly, some of these niches had circular recesses that appeared to have been sealed with wooden or stone slabs, suggesting that they may have once housed human remains.

Zoroastrian Funerary Practices?

The architecture and purpose of the Teniky structures presented a mystery. The Portuguese theory seemed unlikely, as the first Portuguese ships didn’t arrive in the Indian Ocean until 1498, far later than the proposed construction of Teniky. Ceramic sherds found at the site were dated to the 10th-12th centuries AD, with some pieces originating from Southeast Asia and China, indicating that Teniky was part of the vibrant Indian Ocean trade network.

Looking for possible explanations, Schreurs and his team turned to regions historically connected to Madagascar through trade, such as Arabia, Persia, and the Indian subcontinent. They discovered striking similarities between the niches at Teniky and rock-cut niches in Iran, particularly in the Fars region, which had been used by Zoroastrians for funerary purposes.

In Zoroastrian tradition, the dead were not buried but instead placed in open-air niches called “dakhmas,” where their bodies would be exposed to the elements and scavengers. Once the flesh decayed, the bones would be transferred to smaller, closed niches known as “astōdans.” This practice was rooted in the Zoroastrian belief that the earth should not be polluted by dead bodies. The similarities in design led the researchers to hypothesize that the niches at Teniky may have been constructed by a Zoroastrian community.

Simila rock cut niches in the hills north of Sirāf, Iran (a-b) and Teniky, Madagascar (c-d). (Schreurs et al. 2024. Images of Siraf niches courtesy of Ali Aghajanzadeh/Azania)

The Persian-Malagasy Connection

This hypothesis is bolstered by historical records showing that Persian merchants were active in the Indian Ocean trade network during the Sassanid Empire (AD 224-651) and well into the Islamic period. The Persian port city of Siraf, for example, had extensive trade links with East Africa, Southeast Asia, and China. It is possible that Persian Zoroastrians, fleeing the Arab conquest and the imposition of Islam in the 7th century, migrated along these trade routes, eventually reaching Madagascar.

However, no human remains have been found in the Teniky niches, complicating the theory. According to American field biologist Steve Goodman, who has worked extensively in Madagascar, it is possible that local populations removed the remains over the centuries, perhaps for use in rituals. The Bara people, who inhabit the region today, have long been associated with complex burial traditions, including the use of human remains in magic.

While the absence of skeletal remains presents a challenge, the stylistic similarities between the Teniky niches and Zoroastrian ossuaries in Iran provide a strong basis for further exploration.

Continuing Research at Teniky

The ongoing research at Teniky aims to unravel these mysteries. Schreurs and his team plan to return in 2025 for further excavations, including the use of LIDAR technology to better visualize the site’s structures and terraces. One promising area of investigation is an 80-meter-by-80-meter section of the Sahanafo valley, where surface prospecting has uncovered pottery from China and the Middle East. The researchers hope that excavating this area will yield more clues about the origins and culture of the people who built Teniky.

Although the link between Teniky and Zoroastrianism remains tentative, the possibility that Madagascar once hosted a Zoroastrian community adds a fascinating new chapter to the island’s already complex history. Further research could provide deeper insights into how ancient Madagascar was connected to the broader world through trade, migration, and cultural exchange.

As Schreurs notes:

“Although I would like to stress that our interpretation linking the rock-cut architecture with Zoroastrian practices is tentative, the stylistic similarities of the stone basins and tables found at Teniky and those used in Zoroastrian ritual ceremonies seem to point in the same direction.”

Top image: Teniky: aerial views taken during excavations at the rock shelter in Zone 1, with 8 niches visible.                 Source: Schreurs et al. 2024/Azania

By Gary Manners

By Francesco Perono Cacciafoco/The Conversation

The naming process, the act of naming the items of the world, is as old as the first words spoken by our ancestors. We can reconstruct the stages of this process through etymology, which studies the historical development of the lexicon of a language.

English words tell a lot of stories. To get back to their origins, linguists apply the comparative method. Languages are not isolated entities, but belong to linguistic families – English is a west Germanic language from the Indo-European family, for example – and their vocabularies are connected.

In the comparative method, linguists compare cognates (the same words in different-but-related languages, like  mother in English,  māter in Latin, and  mutter in German) and reconstruct the ways these words were pronounced by ancient speakers.

By doing this, linguists give a voice to our ancestors, travelling back in time towards prehistoric ages with no written records. It’s difficult and complex, but very cool stuff.

However, the process doesn’t always work. The English lexicon includes some terms known as “proper words”, which today apparently exist only in English. Cognates for them cannot be found in any other language.

These are very simple and common words but being unique, we cannot apply the comparative method to them and therefore cannot reconstruct their origins. These “proper words” represent an exciting puzzle of the English language. Here are five examples.

1. Bird

“Bird” sounds Germanic, but doesn’t have cognates in any other Germanic language. It can be found in Old English as a rare variant of  bridd, indicating a “young bird”.

Old English speakers used  fugel, as in “fowl”, as a standard term for bird. Up to the 15th century, “bird” was used not only to describe a young bird, but also a young animal in general – even a fish or a child.

2. Boy

Who (or what) was, originally, a “boy”? No one knows. In the 13th century, a  boie was a servant, but already in that time the provenance of the word was obscure. A century later, the term started being used to indicate a male child. The word doesn’t sound Germanic, but it’s not clear whether it was imported to England by the Normans either.

One interpretation traces back the term to an unattested vulgar Latin verb,  *imboiare (in etymological notation, the asterisk indicates a word that has been reconstructed on the basis of the comparative method, rather than found in source material), possibly connected with the Latin  boia, meaning yoke or collar, and with the concept of slavery.

We don’t know the origins of ‘boy’ or ‘girl’. (Royal MS 10 E IV f.311v / The British Library)

3. Girl

Since the 14th century,  gyrle was a word used to indicate a child, with no gender distinction. Despite the apparent simplicity of the term, so far nobody has been able to reconstruct its origins. Some scholars have connected it with the Old English word  gierela, meaning garment, with a semantic transition presumed from “child’s apron (garment)” to, simply, “child”.

Others think that “girl” belongs to a set of words that also includes “boy”, “lass” and “lad”, which could have derived from other terms that cannot be directly linked to them any more. Whatever the truth is, the mystery of “girl” persists.

4. Dog

“Dog” comes from Old English docga, a very rare word later used in Middle English to depict a specific, strong breed – the mastiff.

In Old English,  hund was the general Germanic word until the term  docga replaced it almost completely in the 16th century. Now, “hound” is semantically specialised and indicates a hunting dog. So far, nobody has been able to reconstruct the etymological root of  docga, and no ancient English word appears to be related to it.

“Dog” is therefore a true lexicological mystery of the English vocabulary. Probably the breed it was originally indicating became popular enough to be identified with the notion of “dog” in itself, but this doesn’t explain the provenance of the word.

The same puzzling origins are shared by other zoological terms in the English lexicon, like “pig, “stag” and “hog”, which are all etymologically unclear. Interestingly, the widespread word for “dog” in Spanish,  perro, is also completely obscure in its origins.

5. Recorder

“Recorder” is something of an intruder in this list of etymological oddities, because we know its origins. It comes from the Middle French verb “recorder”, which meant to relate, repeat or recall, which in turn comes from the Latin  recordārī.

A Spanish medieval flute (early 14th century). (Manessische Liederhandschrift 848, fol. 423v.)

However, the recorder I am referring to is not the device used to record but the “straight flute”, a musical instrument. Despite its very recognizable origins, no one knows why in English, the “straight flute” –  flauto dolce, in Italian,  flûte à bec in French, and  blockflöte in German – is called a “recorder”. It certainly doesn’t record anything.

Historical sources have been confused since its first attestations. The earliest appearance of the word is from 1388, in a list (in Latin) of musical instruments owned by the future King Henry IV. There, it’s documented as “ i. fistula nomine Recordour” (“a pipe called Recordour”). This makes it look like a proper noun, with the initial character capitalised. In 15th-century England, the word “recordour”, with a lowercase initial, meant a chief legal officer of a city.

There are some theories. The sound of the recorder was compared with that produced by birds’ songs, which are repetitive and, therefore, would develop a “recording” loop – but that feels far-fetched.

In the past, I have worked on the etymologies of the words “ocarina” and “gemshorn”, and my focus is now on “recorder”. The reconstruction of the origin stories of these “proper words” could tell us a lot about our ancestors, their mindsets, and their cognitive strategies in naming what was surrounding them.

Top image: Detail from Tacuinum Sanitatis, a 14th-century handbook of medieval health. Source: Public Domain/The Conversation

This article, originally published under the title, “Five Common English Words We Don’t Know the Origins of – Including ‘Boy’ and ‘Dog’”by Francesco Perono Cacciafoco was originally published on The Conversation and has been republished under a Creative Commons license.

In the Valley of Oaxaca, located in the Southern highlands of Mesoamerica, an indigenous, pre-Columbian civilization, known as the Zapotec civilization or the “Cloud People”, flourished around 2,500 years ago. They left behind impressive ruins and provided a lasting influence on the many cultures that superseded them.

The Rise and Population Growth of the Zapotecs

During the Monte Alban 1 phase (400–100 BC), the Zapotec civilization began to form in the Oaxaca Valley. They were the largest indigenous group in Oaxaca, with populations reaching approximately 350,000 at their height. Members of the Zapotec civilization created and developed a powerful state system that went through periods of development and decline.  The Zapotecs can be divided into three distinct groups – the Valley Zapotec (in the Valley of Oaxaca), the Sierra Zapotec (to the north), and the Southern Zapotec (in the south and east, near the Isthmus of Tehuantepec). The peoples were primarily peasant farmers, living in communities of approximately 5,000.

A funerary urn depicting a seated figure from the Zapotec culture, 100 -700 AD. (Luis García/CC BY-SA 3.0)

Altogether, the Zapotecs lived in farming villages, mountain settlements, scattered ranches, rural areas, and two urban centers, Juchitán and Tehuantepec. A typical Zapotec community contained government buildings, a place of worship, school buildings, dry-goods stores, and possibly a health building or clinic. Their houses were made of stone and mortar. The Zapotec were hunters, and were believed to have hunted antelopes, deer, jackrabbits, squirrels, foxes, rats, and quail. They did their hunting with darts and spears. They strategized hunting by disturbing bushes to drive squirrels and rabbits to a central location.

Detail of an ancient Zapotec mosaic. (Public Domain)

Evolution and Regional Spread of the Zapotec Language

The languages of the Zapotec civilization belong to an ancient family of Mesoamerican languages known as the Oto-manguean language family. Around 1,500 BC, the Oto-manguean languages began to split off, creating differing languages across the regions. The Zapotec language is a tone language, which means that the meaning of a word may vary based upon the tone with which the word is spoken. Today, the Zapotec language is still heard in parts of the Northern Sierra, the Central Valleys, the Southern Sierra, the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, along parts of the Pacific Coast, and in parts of Mexico.

 Map of Oto-Manguean languages within Mexico. (Public Domain)

The Zapotecs developed their own logo syllabic system of writing, which assigned a symbol to each syllable of their language. This is believed to be one of the first writing systems created in Mesoamerica, and a predecessor of the Mayas, Mixtec, and Aztec writing systems. Their writings were to be read in columns, from top to bottom. The Zapotec used their writing system to record important events in their civilization’s history. Archaeologists have found many Zapotec writings, but a number of them still remain to be deciphered. 

Polytheism in Zapotec Religion: Key Deities

The religion of the Zapotecs was polytheistic, with two primary deities. The deities included rain god Cocijo, and Coquihani, the god of light. Their lower-level deities were both male and female, often focusing on agriculture and fertility. The males wore breechclouts and capes, and the females wore skirts. There is some variation as to what the Zapotecs believed of their origins. Archaeological evidence suggests that they believed their ancestors emerged from the earth or caves, or that they formed from jaguars or trees. Alternatively, there is some indication that they believed to have descended from supernatural beings living among the clouds, a status they would return to upon death.

Mesoamerican sculpture, said to be a Bat God of the Zapotec religion. (Public Domain)

The Zapotecs are an example of an ancient civilization that experienced periods of both thriving and struggling. There is no trace of violent destruction, and the reason for their decline is unknown, although it occurred during a time of much conflict in the area. Their location was later adopted by the Mixtec as a sacred site, and royal burial location, and can still be visited to this day.

Top image: Panoramic of the Zapotec ruins of Monte Alban, Oaxaca, Mexico. Source: DavidConFran/CC BY-SA 3.0

In the Selçuk district of western Turkiye’s İzmir, a sarcophagus believed to belong to a Roman gladiator from the third century BC was uncovered. This sarcophagus was later repurposed in the fifth century AD to hold the remains of 12 individual skeletons, with the lead sarcophagus identified as having belonged to a Roman gladiator named Euphrates. The sarcophagus is decorated with epic inscriptions on the outside, and three cross reliefs were added inside during the later repurposing.

The discovery was made during ongoing excavations at Ayasuluk Hill and the St. Jean Monument, which are being conducted under the leadership of associate professor Sinan Mimaroğlu from the Department of Art History at Hatay Mustafa Kemal University.

These excavations have the support of various institutions and are being carried out with permission from the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, reports The Daily Sabah. Epigraphic analysis was conducted by associate professor Ertan Yıldız.

Selcuk (or Seljuk), Izmir, Turkey. (Hugh Llewelyn/ CC BY-SA 2.0)

A Sophisticated Sarcophagus, Beautiful Inscriptions

Similar examples of sarcophagi have been found in Istanbul, on Marmara Island, and in Syria. Mimaroğlu expressed surprise at the team’s discovery of a water channel, a pipe system, mosaics, a sarcophagus, and three stone graves shaped like sarcophagi, located just 20 centimeters below the surface. The tomb contained 12 individuals, suggesting it was used for collective burial.

“We found one tomb and three tomb-like structures, with 12 individuals inside. This indicates a collective burial. The sarcophagus is a Roman one with a very beautiful epic inscription. It belonged to a Roman gladiator and was repurposed during the Christian period with three cross reliefs added inside,” Mimaroğlu explained.

The repurposed tomb contained mosaics, sarcophagus and 12 interred individuals. (IHA/ Screenshot)

Regarding the church where the sarcophagus was found, Mimaroğlu explained that it was initially a small tomb structure before being transformed into a wooden-roofed basilica and later into a domed church during the reign of Emperor Justinian I. He highlighted the significance of the burials within the church, noting that those interred in the church were likely of high status or clergy members, as ordinary individuals were not typically buried inside churches, particularly near the cross area, reports Turkiye Today.

Initial findings suggest that the crosses inside the sarcophagus were carved in the fifth century, while the cross reliefs on the lid were likely added in the seventh or eighth century. Mimaroğlu added that archaeological evidence shows the mosaic beneath the sarcophagus was removed and placed there after the time of Justinian I.

On the topic of cross reliefs in the sarcophagus, Mimaroğlu noted that similar cross-decorated sarcophagi are usually seen in imperial burials in Istanbul, although they tend to be made from higher-quality materials. He pointed to a similar sarcophagus found on Marmara Island and another in Syria, though the cross shapes differ. The excavation team is continuing to search for comparable examples for future publication.

Going Back in Time: Layers upon Layers

Mimaroğlu also suggested there is early evidence indicating that the site may be the first location of Ephesus. He mentioned the discovery of ceramics dating back to the second millennium BC, as well as from the Early, Middle, and Late Bronze Ages. This year, the team focused their efforts on the South Cross arm of the Church of St. John. He referred to the initial excavations of the church, which began in 1921-1922 by the Greek archaeologist Soteriou, and noted that he has led the current phase of excavations since 2020.

Georadar studies conducted in 2023 that revealed earlier sondages (test trenches) by Hörmann. These sondages yielded findings that were confirmed when the excavation area was expanded. During these efforts, a marble floor was uncovered. The top layer of the marble flooring was from the sixth century, during the reign of Justinian I, while the marble floor unearthed this year was confirmed to date from the fifth century.

Top image: The mosaic in the tomb of the gladiator unearthed in Izmir, Türkiye.              Source: IHA/Screenshot

By Sahir Pandey

In Norse mythology, the themes of impairment and sacrifice were imbued with deep, arcane meaning, illuminating the relationship between human existence and the divine. The Norse gods, formidable and wise, were not exempt from suffering and loss; even the celestial realm was bound by the necessity of braving trials for the salvation of cosmic balance. Mirrored in the lives of the Norse people, embracing hardship for a prosperous community was divinely favored. Within this mythic worldview, impairments and the act of sacrifice were not purely challenges to be overcome but revered as essential elements of honor, growth, and the enduring dance between destiny and self-determination.

Myself to Myself: Offerings at the Well

Beneath the roots of the sacred world tree Yggdrasil three wells could be found. One of the three, Mimisbrunnr, was the most enigmatic of them all, gifting great wisdom to whoever drank from it. Mimir, The Rememberer and guardian of memories, sipped its livening waters since the beginning of time. He was wise beyond all measure, the only one worthy of possessing such an empowering well. Still, a day came when a man of age, tall and imposing, with a long grey beard, cloaked in a dark blue hood traveled through the perilous land of giants to meet with Mimir in hopes of obtaining this wisdom.

Mimir was not particularly happy to see him, the well was his and his alone. But the traveler was persistent, offering anything the wise man would take in exchange for just a sip. It was settled, Mimir requested an eye, and the traveler did not hesitate. Ripping his eye from its socket, he plunged it into the well, watching it sink as it gazed back. A sip was all he needed. In a moment’s burst, all things became clear, wisdom and knowledge swirled through his brain, and his singular eye saw more than any two eyes could.

An illustration of Odin on Sleipnir. (Public Domain)

Read more…

Top image: Odin with his two ravens, Huginn and Munninn.           Source: Sunshower Shots / Adobe Stock

By Jessica Nadeau

Archaeologists have made an intriguing discovery during excavations at a Roman-era necropolis mound near Varna, Bulgaria. The investigation team uncovered mysterious stone structures alongside the remains of a Roman chariot, marking the first time such a find has been made in the region.

Located between Vetrino and Provadia, the necropolis mound dates to the 2nd and early 3rd centuries AD. Initially the team led by Dr. Vladimir Slavchev from the Regional History Museum in Varna believed the mound to be from the Early Bronze Age, as another nearby site from that period had been studied earlier. However, new evidence shows that this mound belongs to a different time, specifically the Roman era, reports BTA.

Uncovering Roman Cremation Burials

The mound mainly consists of cremation burials, a common Roman burial method. Wooden beds with bodies were burned in grave pits, which were then filled in. Dr. Slavchev explained that while it’s unclear whether the mound served a single family or a larger community, it likely catered to a nearby settlement.

The mound was constructed in stages, with the initial mound covered in a whitish marl layer (a rock that is a mix of clay and calcite) expanded over time, and sealed in a similar manner.

The Roman chariot remains found at Varna necropolis. (BTA/YouTube Screenshot)

Discovery of a Roman Chariot

Among the notable finds was the well-preserved remains of a Roman two-wheeled chariot, buried with a horse. This type of chariot, used for standing travel, was common for both normal, everyday transport and military purposes. “It is likely that this chariot was military,” said Slavchev.

While such finds have been made in other parts of Bulgaria, this is the first discovery of a Roman chariot in the Varna region.

The Mystery of the Stone Structures

The most puzzling discovery, however, was the presence of dome-shaped stone structures surrounding the southern side of the mound. These round and elliptical structures were built closely together with stone floors, but archaeologists found absolutely nothing inside. Despite their intact state, the purpose of these formations remains unknown.

“We found no signs that these were destroyed or looted, yet their purpose is a complete mystery,” Slavchev noted according to the BTA report. So far, there is no record of similar structures being found in other Roman-era sites.

Grave Goods and Looting

While no gold objects were found in the mound, archaeologists uncovered various ceramic and glass vessels, iron and bronze objects, and coins. Among the coins was one minted during the reign of Roman Emperor Antoninus Pius, along with others from the Severan dynasty. These coins were placed in the graves after cremation, intended for use by the dead in the afterlife.

Unfortunately, treasure hunters had looted the central part of the mound, and telltale signs several raids were discovered. This looting has left archaeologists uncertain about the original contents of the central burial.

Lifesaving Excavations

The excavation of this necropolis was necessary due to its location on the planned route of a future gas pipeline between Bulgaria and Romania. Funding for the project was provided by Bulgartransgaz, in cooperation with the National Archaeological Institute with Museum – BAS.

The findings add valuable insight into the region’s Roman history and have thrown up an interesting conundrum regarding the purpose of the mysterious stone structures.

Top image: Roman chariot remains found at Varna.      Source: BTA/YouTube Screenshot

By Gary Manner

Wilgie Mia, known by the Wajarri Traditional Owners as Thuwarri Thaa (the place of red ochre), lies in the Weld Ranges of Australia. It is the largest and deepest underground Aboriginal ochre mine in Australia and the world’s oldest continuing mining operation. Its’ rich red ochre was first extracted more than 30,000 years ago and is still used today in Aboriginal Law, art, ceremony and healing practices throughout the Western Desert and its fringes.

The Rich Ochre Seams of Wilgie Mia

Wilgie Mia is characterized by large open-cut pits, excavated caverns and underground galleries that follow ochre seams in red, yellow, and green. But it was the red ochre that was most prized by the Wajarri people.  The lustrous sheen and the ‘glow in the dark’ properties of this particular ochre, made it among the most sought-after ochre in the country, used for thousands of years in ceremonies, rock art, and for trade.

The ochre from Wilgie Mia formed part of the most extensive pre-contact ochre trade network recorded in Australia. The ochre would be delivered on foot to the border of a neighboring tribe where it would be passed on from one territory to another, reaching as far afield as 1,600 kilometers (994.19 mi) away.  For those seeking ochre, a message stick was marked and passed on ahead of travelling men, letting people ahead of them know they were coming seeking red ochre from the Weld Range. Spears, boomerangs, and kangaroos were given as payment.

According to the Dreamtime stories of the Wajarri people, Wilgia Mia was created when Marlu, a red kangaroo, was speared.  Marlu’s blood was believed to have made the red ochre, his liver the yellow ochre and his gall the green ochre.

Kangaroo is present in Australian Dreamtime stories. (fotofritz16/Adobe Stock)

According to Aboriginal mythology, Wilgie Mia is guarded by four powerful spirits known as Mondong, represented in a large imposing outcrop to the north of the mine, who protect the place from thieves and people who do not follow the proper law for collecting the ochre.  The ancient mine was greatly feared except by the elders who were initiated into the secrets of the site.  Piles of stones marked the boundaries of the area beyond which it was not safe for the uninitiated to enter, and rituals were performed to prevent injury or death during mining operations. For example, after extracting as much ochre as they could manage, Aboriginal miners would walk out of the cave backwards, obliterating their footprints with a leafy bough so that the Mondong would not be able to track them and seek revenge.

The Mining Methods Of The Wajarri

The mining techniques used by Aboriginal people at Wilgie Mia included ‘stop and pillar’ techniques to provide increased safety when mining underground, and the use of pole scaffolding with fire-hardened wooden platforms to allow them to extract ochre from different heights in the rock face at the same time. Heavy stone mauls were used to break the ochre away from the rock walls. These techniques have not been recorded at other traditional Aboriginal mines.

Once the lumps of ochrous stone were pulled from the mine, they were carried to the top of the northern slope where they were broken up to extract the ochre. The pigment was then pulverized with rounded stones, dampened with water and worked into balls. Using these methods the Aboriginal miners removed about 19 600 cubic meters of ochre and rock weighing around 40 000 tons. This is the largest amount of ochre removed by Indigenous people from one location in Australia using traditional mining methods.

The National Heritage Register on which Wilgie Mia was listed in 2011, describes the mine as offering “outstanding heritage value to the nation because of the place’s importance in demonstrating a high degree of creative or technical achievement during the last three thousand years”.  

Three shades of ochre; naturally occurring ochre. (Marco Almbauer/CC BY-SA 3.0)

The Exploitation of Wilgie Mia

In 1917, Wilgie Mia and 10 500 acres (4249.19 hectares) of surrounding country was proclaimed an Aboriginal Reserve (Aborigines Act 1905). A special reserve at the mine itself was established over one acre ( 0.404 ha) and to a depth of 100 feet (30.48 m) below the surface. However, in the mid twentieth century, commercial miners recognized the value of the ochre at Wilgie Mia, and the boundary of the reserve was changed by proclamation. It was mined commercially for the first time in 1944 by J.C Zadow and J.G Cassidy and in 1959, the mining permit was transferred to the Universal Milling Company. In 1969 the Department of Native Affairs recommended that the Universal Milling Companies license be revoked because of the illegal use of explosives at Wilgie Mia and its non-compliance with heritage protection requirements.  Following extensive lobbying from the Aboriginal community, in 1973, Wilgie Mia was declared a protected area under the Aboriginal Heritage Act 1972 and is now classified as a restricted site.  Nevertheless, ochre continues to be extract without the permission of the Traditional Owners, and unauthorized visits occur due to encouragement from tourism websites.

Despite the commercial exploitation of Wilgie Mia, initiated Aboriginal men continue to mine there for red ochre to use in Law, ceremony, healing and art, and the ochre is still traded to neighboring Aboriginal communities for use in ceremonies.

The richness of Dreamtime stories and protective rituals of Wilgie Mia are not matched by any other major Aboriginal ochre mine in Australia. The stories associated with the site and its religious significance, remain an important part of Indigenous tradition to this day, offering outstanding heritage value to Australia for its importance as part of a continuing Indigenous tradition.

Top image: The mining site of Wilgie Mia. Source: YouTube Screenshot/ Yamatji Marlpa Aboriginal Corporation (YMAC)

By Joanna Gillan

The fall of Rome in 476 AD marked the end of an era, but not the end of its legacy. As the Western Roman Empire crumbled under pressure from Germanic invaders, the concept of “Rome” as the pinnacle of power and civilization endured. In the centuries that followed, various states and empires sought to claim the mantle of Roman succession, each believing they were the true heirs to the imperial legacy. From the Byzantine Empire in the East to the Holy Roman Empire in the West, and even to the far-reaching claims of the Russian tsars, the idea of Rome continued to shape European politics, culture, and identity long after the last emperor was deposed.

Roman Succession: The Quest for Imperial Legitimacy

Why Would States Claim Roman Succession? The temptation to claim Roman succession was a strong one. It came with plenty of benefits and few, if any, downsides. States and individual rulers sought this status for reasons that ranged from political and economic to cultural.

Legitimacy and Prestige: Attaching themselves to Rome’s impressive legacy was an excellent way for rulers to give themselves instant credibility and elevate their perceived status.

Divine Right: European kings relied on the idea of divine right to rule. Since Roman emperors had been seen as God’s choice, the idea of Roman succession appealed to monarchs looking to solidify their authority through religion.

Religious Authority: For Christian rulers, Roman succession did not just give them the right to rule their own countries. It lent the implied leadership of the entire Christian world.

Legal Precedent: Many aspects of Roman law outlive the Empire itself. Roman law was widely respected and continued to carry enough weight that rulers could use succession as a way of proving their right to rule.

Cultural Superiority: To many, Rome was regarded as the pinnacle of human civilization. By claiming to be its successor, monarchs could claim cultural and intellectual superiority over their challengers.

Territorial Claims: Succession was also a great tool for anyone looking to invasive lands once held by the Roman Empire. Expansion into former Roman territories wasn’t an invasion; it was simply taking back what was theirs.

Economic Benefits: Similarly, Roman succession could be used to “legitimately” lay claim to important trade routes. It also gave the right to mint universally accepted currency, which was associated with imperial status.

These benefits weren’t hypothetical or symbolic. They really worked. When Ivan III of Russia married the niece of the last Byzantine emperor in 1472, it instantly strengthened Moscow’s claim as the “Third Rome.” Similarly, Holy Roman Emperors constantly used their status to push around other European monarchs, as seen in the conflict between Emperor Henry IV and Pope Gregory VII during the Investiture Controversy of 1076-1122.

Ivan Fryazin showed to Ivan III the portrait of Sophia Palaiologina, by Viktor Muizhel. (Public Domain)

Major Claimants to Roman Succession:

Byzantine Empire

The Byzantine Empire, also known as the Eastern Roman Empire, is perhaps the most direct and legitimate successor to the Roman Empire. In fact, Roman succession was so integral to the Byzantine identity that it never actually referred to itself as the “Byzantine Empire.” Instead opting for titles like the Roman Empire, Empire of the Romans, or Romania. Outside its borders, many Western Europeans disliked using the word Roman while referring to the Byzantine Empire, whereas its Muslim neighbors often referred to its citizens as Romans.

Much of the Byzantine Empire’s claim of succession comes from the simple fact that following the fall of Rome in 476 AD, the eastern half of the empire continued to thrive for nearly a millennium, preserving Roman institutions, law, and culture. 

The strength of the Byzantine’s claim to Roman succession lies in this direct continuity. The Byzantine Empire wasn’t some new entity pretending to be the Roman Empire; it was a direct continuation of (half) the Roman state. 

One of the most significant aspects of the Byzantine claim was the preservation of Roman institutions. They kept the old Roman administrative structures, legal systems, and military organization untouched. The compilation of the Corpus Juris Civilis under Justinian I in the 6th century became a cornerstone of this continuity, later influencing many European legal systems.

Emperor Justinian is depicted in the center with a halo around his head in this mosaic from Ravenna, Italy. (Michleb/CC BY SA 3.0)

Culturally, the Byzantine Empire evolved but stayed close to its Roman roots. Greek replaced Latin as the primary language, but Latin was still used for official purposes until the 7th century. Byzantine emperors also used the old imperial titles, calling themselves things like Augustus and Imperator to make their claim to Roman succession clear. 

However, the Byzantine claim wasn’t bulletproof. There was no ignoring the fact that Constantine had shifted the capital to Constantinople, far away from Rome. Over time, Byzantine control over Rome itself weakened, calling into question the empire’s connection to its Roman roots in Western eyes. Eventually the Byzantine Empire’s failure to control the former Western Roman lands caused many to question its claim to universal rule. 

The Byzantine Empire also became less Roman over time. It developed distinct Greek and Christian characteristics that set it apart from the classical Roman model. 

These weaknesses aside, the Byzantine Empire’s claim to Roman succession was regarded as the strongest and most widely recognized for a long time. Constantinople was a center of trade, culture, and Christianity and, in many ways, became the new Rome. When it fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1453, it was the end of the Roman imperial tradition that had survived for two millennia.

Holy Roman Empire/Carolingian Empire

Much like the Byzantine Empire didn’t refer to itself as such, neither did the Holy Roman Empire. Its citizens and rulers called themselves the Roman Empire, the Empire of the Romans, or most simply the Empire. Established in 800 AD with the coronation of Charlemagne I, the Carolingian Empire arguably had the second strongest claim to Roman succession. This claim lasted for over a millennium and only came to an end with the empire’s dissolution in 1806.

The Holy Roman Empire’s claim was rooted in a handful of key factors. Firstly, it had a certain degree of religious support. When Charlemagne was crowned by Pope Leo III in 800 AD, he was made the “Emperor of the Romans” by the pope. For the Christians of the West, this act transferred imperial authority from Rome to the Franks, which was then later transferred to the empire’s German rulers.

Pope Leo III crowning Charlemagne as Emperor. (Public Domain)

The Holy Roman Empire also adopted a “looking Roman=being Roman” approach. The empire used Roman symbols and titles that lent credence to its claim of continuity. Like the Byzantine emperors, the Carolingian rulers used titles like Augustus and Imperator. The concept of translatio imperii, or the transfer of imperial authority, was central to the empire’s ideology.

Then there was the Holy Roman Empire’s privileged relationship with the Catholic Church. The popes regarded the empire’s rulers as the protectors of Christendom. This papal endorsement of imperial authority went a long way in reinforcing the idea of a continuation of the Christian Roman Empire. Simply put, for most western European Christians, if the pope said it was true, it was true. 

However, the Holy Roman Empire’s claims weren’t without flaws. Its decentralized nature, where power was divided between numerous princes and local rulers, was very different to the centralized authority of the real Roman Empire. 

Geographically speaking, the empire also wasn’t that connected to the ancient Roman Empire. It was focused mainly on German-speaking lands and was limited to Central Europe. This undermined any claims to universal rule. 

Many of its institutions weren’t that Roman either. For example, its imperial title was elective rather than hereditary. This was a sharp detour from the old Roman imperial traditions surrounding succession.

Over time, the empire’s claim only weakened. The Reformation in the 16th century was a major blow. How could the empire claim to be the continuation of the Christian Roman Empire when religious unity had been shattered? Later, the empire’s complete inability to resist threats like the Napoleonic conquests killed its plausibility when claiming to be a continuation of the greatest military power the world had ever seen. 

The French writer Voltaire, a damning critic, put it best when he said the Holy Roman Empire was “neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.”

Ottoman Empire

Next up came the Ottoman Empire. They started claiming Roman succession after their conquest of Constantinople in 1453, which marked the end of the Byzantine Empire. Coming from a Muslim power rather than a Christian one, this claim marked a major departure from the traditional concept of Roman succession. 

The Ottoman claim was centered around the principle of translatio imperii. Sultan Mehmed II believed that if the Byzantine emperors had truly been “Roman Emperors,” then by defeating him he acquired their right to that title too. After taking Constantinople, he declared himself “Kayser-i Rûm” (Caesar of Rome), emphasizing this claim.

Mehmed II of the Ottoman Empire, entering Constantinople. (Public Domain)

To back up their claim, the ottomans adopted many Byzantine institutions and practices, especially in administration and law (themselves continuations of Roman systems). They also preserved the Orthodox Patriarchate, allowing it to continue functioning under Ottoman rule. This continuation of Roman-Byzantine traditions lent some legitimacy to their claim of succession.

Geographically, the Ottoman Empire controlled much of the former Eastern Roman Empire’s territory, including significant parts of the Balkans, Anatolia, and the Middle East. This vast territorial extent bolstered their claim to be a universal empire in the Roman tradition.

Out of all the claims, the Ottomans were probably one of the weakest thanks to the multiple religious and cultural differences. As an Islamic empire, the Ottomans represented a clear break from the Christian Roman tradition. This made their claim difficult for European Christian powers to accept.

The Ottomans’ Turkish and Islamic cultural identity was also a problem. It was very different from the Greco-Roman culture that had defined the Byzantine Empire. While they did adopt some Roman-Byzantine traditions, they also made major changes. There was no denying the fact that Ottoman culture was different, and Europeans regarded it as foreign. 

The Ottoman sultans could call themselves Caesar as much as they liked, but the Western European powers were not listening. To them, the Ottomans were usurpers, not legitimate successors to Rome. The Ottomans might have made the claim, but precious few outsiders took it seriously. 

Russian Empire (Third Rome)

The final major claim to Roman succession came from Moscow in the late 15th century before gaining prominence in the 16th century. This claim, known as the concept of “Moscow as the Third Rome”, stood out because it was less about political and territorial continuity and focused on religious and cultural succession. 

A large part of the Russian claims was centered around religion. Following Constantinople’s 1453 fall, Moscow made itself the last bastion of true orthodox Christianity. As the monk Philotheus of Pskov put it, “Two Romes have fallen, the third stands, and there will not be a fourth.”

The Russian empire also sought to bolster its claim via a strategic political marriage. The marriage of Ivan III to Sophia Palaeologus, niece of the last Byzantine emperor, in 1472 provided a dynastic link to the Byzantine imperial family. This connection was used to bolster Russia’s claim to be the heir of Byzantium and, by extension, Rome.

The empire also adopted many Byzantine symbols and ceremonies to strengthen its claim. The double-headed eagle, a symbol of Byzantine emperors, became the emblem of the Russian state. Russian rulers also adopted the title “Tsar,” derived from “Caesar,” further emphasizing their imperial aspirations.

The double-headed eagle, an emblem used by Byzantine emperors (1589) (Public Domain)

Just like those who had tried before it, the Russians’ claim had some major weaknesses. For a start, geographically speaking, Russia was far removed from the historic Roman territories. Russia held basically no old Roman lands, making its supposed connection to Rome tenuous. 

The Russian Empire was also late to the party. Its delayed arrival as a serious European power meant other European states refused to even recognize its claim for several centuries. The concept of “Moscow as the Third Rome” was primarily an internal ideology rather than an internationally accepted status.

Its claim was also extremely limited in scope. The Russians decided to focus mainly on religious succession and chose to ignore the ideas of political and legal continuity. While this gave the claim a unique character, it also made it less directly comparable to the claims of entities like the Byzantine or Holy Roman Empires. It is hard to win any debate with a single argument.

Other Notable Claimants

While the Byzantine, Holy Roman, Ottoman, and Russian Empires were the most prominent claimants to Roman succession, they weren’t the only ones. Several other states also claimed to have connections to the Roman Legacy.

The Kingdom of Italy, following unification in the 19th century, based its claim on geographical and cultural grounds, encompassing Rome and much of the former Western Roman Empire’s core territory. This claim was particularly emphasized during the fascist era under Mussolini.

Greece, after gaining independence from the Ottoman Empire, asserted a connection to the Byzantine Empire and, by extension, to Rome, rooted in cultural and linguistic continuity. The “Megali Idea” envisioned restoring a Greek state centered on Constantinople.

French claims, while less direct, stemmed from Charlemagne’s coronation as Emperor of the Romans in 800 AD. Later French monarchs and Napoleon Bonaparte emphasized connections to Roman culture and adopted Roman symbols.

Conclusion

The idea of Roman succession has never really gone away. It extends beyond medieval power struggles and has profoundly shaped modern nationalism and geopolitics. These claims fueled the development of national identities, from Italian unification to Russian exceptionalism. Not always positive, political opponents of the EU will often draw comparisons to the European Union and Roman succession.

The idea of a shared Roman heritage contributed to the concept of European civilization, influencing everything from legal systems to architectural styles. While the practical significance of Roman succession has faded, its impact on national mythologies and international relations persists. 

Top image: Imperial Crown of the Holy Roman Empire, late 10th / early 11th century. Right: Device of the Emperor John VIII Palaiologos, featuring the Byzantine double-headed eagle and the sympilema (the family cypher) of the Palaiologos dynasty. Byzantine miniature. Source: Public Domain, Public Domain

By Robbie Mitchell

A team of student volunteers in northern France has uncovered an unexpected piece of history during an archaeological dig. While excavating the remains of a Gaulish village near Dieppe on Monday, they found an earthenware pot containing a glass vial. Inside the vial was a message, written in 1825 by P.J. Féret, a local archaeologist who conducted excavations at the same site 200 years ago.

The note, rolled up and tied with string, reads:

“P.J Féret, a native of Dieppe, member of various intellectual societies, carried out excavations here in January 1825. He continues his investigations in this vast area known as the Cité de Limes or Caesar’s Camp.”

Guillaume Blondel, the dig team leader and head of Eu’s archaeological service, described the moment as “absolutely magic,” reports the BBC.

Unrolled message documenting 1825 excavations (Guillaume Blondel)

The discovery was made during an emergency excavation due to cliff erosion. It has added a personal touch to the ongoing exploration of the Gaulish fortified village, where several ancient pottery fragments have also been found.

Blondel noted that while the team had known about previous excavations at the site, discovering a personal message from an archaeologist who worked there two centuries ago was entirely unexpected.

“It’s very rare in archaeology to find something like this. Sometimes you see these time capsules left behind by carpenters when they build houses. But it’s very rare in archaeology. Most archaeologists prefer to think that there won’t be anyone coming after them because they’ve done all the work!”

Top image: The bottle containing an archaeologist’s note on earlier excavations.          Source: Guillaume Blondel

By Gary Manners