Nationalism and Xenophobia: Barriers to Original Research on Early Rome

“In the new age of warfare we cling to the outdated notion of the single hero able to carry out daring feats of courage on the battlefield… Peddling the myth of heroism is essential, maybe even more so now, to entice soldiers into war.” (pg. 86, War is a Force that Gives Us Meaning by Chris Hedges). In the same vein, Chris Hedges decries the unrealistic picture of “the Rambo heroics we are fed by the state and the entertainment industry.” (pg. 87). The generic cartoon character of G.I. Joe, an American military veteran, represents a national hero, or “a real American hero” (Duke), indicating that national identity is often tied to the symbol of the single, brave warrior who defends that nation’s values and culture. I also would like to add that the comic superhero Captain America is an obvious embodiment of the American military hero who saves the country. 

 

Everyone knows that the name ‘America’ came first before Captain America showed up on the scene, but not everybody realizes that the name ‘Roma’ came first before the heroic Romulus showed up on the scene. We can thus connect ancient Roman national identity to the required sentiment of a singular founding hero, Romulus, who could perform amazing exploits in protecting and expanding the boundaries of Rome.

The concept of a single hero or king with immeasurable powers who acts as a role model for the nation is what underlies the Indian epic Ramayana and the foundation myth of Rome. The role model and the nation’s identity then become inextricably intertwined, which is why Rome is named after Romulus, according to the conventional story of ancient Italy. But the reality is that the imposition of national identity, national culture, or simply nationalism is what fueled the creation of the Romulus legend, while also masking the ignorance of the local population regarding foreign influences that led to the actual process of naming Rome in the Orientalizing and Archaic periods.

 

English author George Orwell, who rightly questioned the whole idea of national identity (“Do such things as ‘national cultures’ really exist?”, pg. 22, The English People), hints at this ignorance that one could point out in any civilization, modern or ancient. He writes: “Millions of English people willingly accept as their national emblem the bulldog, an animal noted for its obstinacy, ugliness, and impenetrable stupidity. They have a remarkable readiness to admit that foreigners are more ‘clever’ than themselves, and yet they feel that it would be an outrage against the laws of God and Nature for England to be ruled by foreigners.” (pgs. 24-26). In essence, Orwell is telling us that nationalism acts as a shield against foreign influence, and nationalists worship symbols of ignorance such as the bulldog because of their irrational fear of the unknown (‘ignorance is bliss’, as the saying goes).

 

The Loyal American Soldier exemplifies National Identity

Xenophobia is thus a natural consequence of nationalism. Nationalism also breeds a stubborn unwillingness to explore new or fresh perspectives on history. The entire preface of Cornell’s book (The Beginnings of Rome: Italy and Rome from the Bronze Age to the Punic Wars) literally appears to be dedicated to condemning this defining trait of Anglo-American scholars. He laments in a long monologue:

“Who could be so idle or apathetic as not to want to know how Rome grew from nothing to become the dominant power in Italy? When, how, and why did the city come into existence? Who were the Romans, and what were the secrets of their success? Such questions, one would have thought, would stimulate anyone endowed with even the most modest level of historical curiosity… What is surprising, and needs to be explained, is the fact that early Roman history has been largely ignored by scholars in the English-speaking world. This seems to be a curiously Anglo-Saxon phenomenon… Roman history before the Punic Wars is regarded as a marginal topic. It is hardly ever taught in school or university courses, and almost no one chooses it as a subject for research… The lack of any established tradition of scholarship on this subject in the English-speaking world remains a puzzle which I for one am not able to explain.” (pgs. xiv-xv)

The reason for wanting to know why Roma was Roma is that we all are fascinated by the iconic imagery of the twins suckling the she-wolf. It remains ‘the’ symbol of ancient Rome and Italy to this day (e.g. Siena’s tower in the world-famous Piazza del Campo), and we should care to find out what secrets lie behind it. Those secrets reveal our own collective history, as members of western, eastern, and global civilization. As brothers and sisters of the human race, let us be free to repudiate the bigoted Anglo-American intelligentsia.

 

Perhaps the Anglo-American intelligentsia should decipher the subconscious meaning of John Lennon’s lyrics in the Beatles’ song
Hey Bulldog, written almost like an ode to Orwell’s English people: ‘Some kind of innocence is measured out in years… You don’t know what it’s like to listen to your fears. You can talk to me… Big man, walking in the park… Wigwam, frightened of the dark… Some kind of solitude is measured out in you… You think you know me, but you haven’t got a clue.’ One could envision an Etruscan from the past singing these lines to a classical historian in the western world to metaphorically describe the stubborn ignorance of modern scholars when encountering literary and archaeological evidence from or relating to sixth-century Rome and Etruria, especially Caere.

Cornell’s puzzlement at the lack of interest in early Rome can be explained if we are cognizant of the dearth of corresponding scholarship in the field of ancient Persian and Indian studies. Without understanding these two cultures and their connection to Greece and the Near Eastern Mediterranean region, we cannot understand early Rome. The Indo-Iranian civilization is one of the oldest in history and its shared heritage with Greece, culturally and linguistically, is often underestimated. The inherent superiority complex of Western Europe and North America, especially among white scholars of British descent, obstructs a concerted effort to attack the problems with the evidence about early Rome. We cannot just allow the so-called experts from Cambridge, Oxford, and the other prestigious universities in the English-speaking world to monopolize our perceptions about Rome’s beginnings. Faced with these complications, asking an outsider’s opinion, even if he is not a specialist in classics or ancient history, can help advance the field. Yes, the documentation of that uncertain time in the annals of classical historians is scarce. But Cornell does not accept this as an excuse to throw out centuries before the common era from the pages of our books: “The evidence is indeed extremely difficult, and problems of verification are acute, but it is incorrect to say that nothing can be known about how Rome began, or how it developed during the early centuries of its existence.” (pg. xv).

Boston Hydria Depicts the Golden Deer Episode of the Ramayana, Final Remarks

Ramayana in Archaic Greek & Etruscan Art at Caere, Conclusion

Description (Main Presentation, Conclusion & Appendix):

My main conclusion is that Eurocentrism and racist xenophobia, akin to the designation of India and most of South/Southeast Asia as a collection of primitive third-world countries, are the root cause of the stubborn unwillingness to accept the Indian mythological content on these Caeretan works of art. Without researchers of all ethnic backgrounds, East and West, there is little chance that we can arrive at a comprehensive understanding of everything that can be known about the ancient world. European classical scholars are actually doing themselves and others a disservice by not welcoming the input of scholars of Asian or African descent, because this leads to massive gaps in knowledge of their own history, as I have demonstrated in this presentation. Their ignorance of Indian myth and religion, as opposed to Greek myth and religion, is particularly glaring, despite the significant number of Indologists of European descent.

Raffaella Bonaudo and Jaap Hemelrijk concede the potential mythological content painted on the Caeretan hydria in Boston, but they are non-committal and unsure about how to solve this enigma. Otto Brendel is more supportive of the belief in a mythological explanation for the Campana plaques, but is unaware of their close association with the Caeretan hydria No. 2. The inability to correlate these two works of art, which Bonaudo also admits to when she calls the Ramayana episode seen on the Boston hydria "an otherwise unattested mythical tale in Etruria", has led to an inconclusive resolution to this dilemma. The Etruscan art historian Brendel astutely suggests a way out of this quandary when he proposes that the mythological subject matter in ancient Italian artifacts may sometimes be Oriental, even though the production technique is always Greco-Etruscan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qm_HY8NPAqk

 

I conclude the presentation with more examples of Indian art, including ancient stone sculpture and medieval painting, to definitively prove that the Caeretan hydria No. 2 in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, dated approximately to 525 BCE, must be a depiction of the golden deer chase of Rama and Laksmana on the front and the abduction of Sita by Ravana on the back. It is a remarkable but true story of the merger of Ionian art and Indian legend in an Etruscan workshop in the late sixth century BCE! Hopefully, this presentation will motivate classical historians, Indologists, curators at major art museums, specialists in South Asian religion, and amateur researchers to also come together in the 21st century AD to tell this amazing story.

Transcript (Main Presentation, Conclusion & Appendix):

Now my main conclusion is that the combination of xenophobia and Eurocentrism lies at the heart of why these works of art have not been identified as Oriental or Indian mythological scenes. And my own personal motivation is not revisionist history per se, but the history that we are not told, simply because these classical scholars choose to focus only on Mediterranean Europe and the Near East, to the exclusion of West and South Asia. A more complete narrative of world history is only possible with the input of researchers who adopt a more holistic approach to the subject, which is what I believe I have done. 

There is a double standard unfortunately in the academic circles. There are far more western scholars of European descent who study Oriental history and myth, including the field of Indology. But compared to that there are very few scholars of Asian or African (that is non-European) descent who study classical history and myth, that is the Greek and Roman myth and culture. So this imbalance of having too many scholars in one field and not enough scholars in the other field and lack of diversity; this imbalance leads to a Eurocentric world historical view.

Returning to the same issue of why these works of art, including the Boston hydria, have not been identified as Oriental mythological scenes, I have the following quote from Jaap Hemelrijk, who does indirectly concede the potential mythological content on the Boston hydria. Like the Italian author Raffaella Bonaudo previously, Hemelrijk is non-committal, however. He writes: “The two painters had a great liking for narrative scenes and a surprising knowledge of mythology and literature. They were fond of myths that are rare, or even lacking in the work of other studios. This preference for unusual stories, which are sometimes hard to identify, suggests that certain scenes, so far not regarded as mythological, may represent definite myths as well.” (pg. 119, Caeretan Hydriae). So he really echoes Bonaudo, who also stated previously (as we showed on an earlier slide) that the Boston deer hunt “cannot be defined exactly and… does not necessarily correspond to a mythical tale not otherwise attested.” (pg. 217). They’re very close to the truth but are still hesitant to go any further than kind of knocking on the door.

Now, if you compare that to another scholar’s remarks - Otto Brendel’s remarks about the Campana slabs - we see a more affirmative statement that they at least realize they must be mythological. So he says that, “About the meaning of these representations (on the Campana plaques), general agreement has not yet been reached, though obviously the abduction of a young woman by a winged being calls for some mythological explanation.” (pg. 175, Etruscan Art). So he does realize that there needs to be some kind of mythological explanation. But he’s a little bit incorrect with his wording, because he’s calling it the “abduction of a young woman by a winged being”, when it really is a rescue of a young woman by a winged being. 

And I think that’s where, if they would compare the Caeretan hydria in Boston to the Campana plaque that he’s referring to, they would see the distinction between the abduction of a young woman versus the rescue of a young woman. And that’s the problem - not only they’re not able to identify definitively whether the scene is mythological or not, but they’re not doing enough comparison with other scenes that are similar, and could reveal the mythical origins.

Rama kills Maricha, whose real form appears above the golden deer, with bow and arrow after his wife Sita (left scene) requests him to hunt the magic animal.

 

Sita's Abduction by Ravana, with common features such as the twisted head, feet pointed in the opposite direction of the abductor, one arm being held by Ravana and the other arm of Sita showing resistance to movement, that are also seen on the Boston hydria.

 

So I want to present another very important quote from an Etruscan scholar, who realizes that the Etruscans probably represented some Oriental stories in their artworks. The scholar’s name is Otto Brendel and in his book Etruscan Art on pages 66 to 67, he writes: “By this time (which is the beginning of the sixth century) the Etruscan artists had acquired sufficient freedom and mastery of representational form to attempt occasionally the rendition of subjects which lay outside the limits of the Greek parent art. The possibility must at least be taken into consideration that Etruscan works occasionally represent subject matter acquired from Oriental art, which may not be immediately obvious to a modern critic because it has been translated into Greek or Greco-Etruscan techniques and forms of representation.” And this is an extremely important observation, and is thought-provoking for all modern scholars. It basically summarizes everything that I have presented to you in all these slides.

The translation of the subject matter of the Valmiki Ramayana is not something that is immediately obvious to the modern classical scholar, but that’s what has happened, and it has been translated into the Ionian-Etruscan techniques and forms of representation. And so therefore, it’s not easy to see it on the surface immediately, especially for somebody who’s not familiar with Oriental myth or Indian myth. In addition, when Brendel (see previous quote) says that “the possibility must at least be taken into consideration that Etruscan works occasionally represent subject matter acquired from Oriental art,” he’s basically or essentially pleading with the classical scholars in the western world to at least consider the possibility that this is an Asian myth, rather than a Greek myth. And he’s quite right to do that and to condemn in essence their Eurocentric views and xenophobia.

And finally, I would just like to draw your attention to the graphics below. Once again, we can see the similarity between the Indian depiction on the right of the golden deer chase, and the Ionian representation of it on the left. The Indian painting on the right was made in Jaipur in the 19th century and it actually is one half of a full painting in which on the bottom, you see the abduction of Sita by Ravana. Actually, the demon Ravana disguises himself as a beggar while Rama is distracted by hunting a golden deer in this top scene. So in the bottom scene there is Ravana approaching Sita as a beggar. And in this top scene which I’m displaying here on this slide, (there is) Rama distracted, along with his younger brother Laksmana to the left of him, while hunting the golden deer, which has two heads again, metaphorically indicating the elusiveness of the deer.

And also normally if we are going to be very technical or by the book, only Rama is the one who actually hunts the golden deer, whereas Laksmana only meets him in the forest after he has killed Maricha, in the actual poem of Valmiki. But there’s obviously liberties taken by artists, where you see these variations where Laksmana also joins Rama in hunting the deer. So that’s why we should not be surprised if the Ionian artists also did the same thing, with what we see on the Caeretan hydria - we see Rama and Laksmana, the two nude youths hunting the golden deer Maricha. 

To finish this presentation I would like to definitively declare that we have proven exhaustively that the Caeretan hydria No. 2 in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, depicts the Golden Deer episode of the Valmiki Ramayana. What happened here is an amazing combination of Ionian art and Indian legend. They were brought together in an Etruscan workshop from the late 6th century BC. It’s a remarkable story that has never really been told, but needs to be told. So thank you. This painting from Jaipur, Rajasthan is actually kept at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, and you can see it yourself at the link that I’ve provided below the painting on this slide - if you care to analyze it further.

Now this presentation has been thorough and complete, in my opinion, but I wanted to give another example in this appendix of the Golden Deer episode in ancient stone sculpture, rather than medieval painting. This carved stone relief that you can see on this slide depicting two simultaneous events from the Valmiki Ramayana, should be all too familiar by now. It dates to the Kushan period, which is placing it around the 2nd to 3rd century AD, and comes from ancient Gandhara, located in what used to be northwest India or what is now modern Pakistan. So this is in the very ancient past compared to the medieval paintings that we’ve been using for comparison. 

And also because Gandhara was near the eastern frontier of the Persian empire in the 6th century BC, and eventually became part of it under Darius around 520 BC, it is my contention that Indians in that region were the ones who narrated the story of Rama to Ionians and Persians when they came into contact with them, in that second half of the sixth century. And this oral tradition then traveled west to Ionia very quickly due to the fast transportation network within the Persian empire, which was also vast. That’s why they talk about the Royal Road from Susa to Sardis. So it was a very vast and fast transportation network.

What is important to not about this particular work of art is that it is one of the oldest sculptures from India that depicts the golden deer hunt as well as the moments before Sita’s abduction where Ravana approaches her. So this work of art is found at the British Museum and you can see that in the link that I provided here. Now the British Museum does give us a description of this scene, and they are non-committal though, about whether the subject is actually the Ramayana. They say that the “subject may be a version of the Rama legend or a theme shared with it.” So they’re not totally sure themselves, but I think as we go through this analysis, I think most people will be certain that it must be, or at least there’s a very high probability that it is.

So in the middle scene here the British Museum tells us that an archer, which I believe is Rama, is holding the bow and is ready to strike his quarry, which is the two rearing cervids that are to the left of Rama, and the nearer one is looking over its shoulder. So if we compare to the Caeretan hydria, we can see that there’s almost a one-to-one match here, where you have multiple deer again that are being portrayed. But the actual reality is that it’s one deer and it’s just moving in a sequence away from Rama. And they’re both rearing, meaning that they are standing on their hind legs in a panic. That is again in accordance with what we see in the Caeretan hydria, with one of the poses. And they’re also showing that one of them is looking over its shoulder, which is again the same twisted head that we see in the middle deer of the Caeretan hydria (the middle pose in the Caeretan hydria).

So really I mean it’s so close to the Caeretan hydria, and it’s also one of the oldest examples from India. So that should really clue us in that this is probably how the Ionian artists really understood it, that this comes the closest to what the Ionian artists were really picturing or imagining themselves. And you can see that the leftmost cervid is not looking back and it’s fleeing away. And that’s analogous to the leftmost deer that we see on the Caeretan hydria. Now if we look at the other scene on the left side, Ravana is posing as an “unhappy suppliant” in the British Museum’s words, and he’s approaching Sita, who is seated in a “partly leaf-covered hut”, according to the British Museum. And this hut is what is acting as kind of a dividing line between the two scenes. 

Also in the rightmost part of the middle scene we see that Laksmana and Sita are probably the two standing figures behind Rama, who is the archer hunting the deer. So really it’s again the same two events - the abduction of Sita and the deer hunt - just as we have seen throughout this presentation, including with the main work of art that we’ve been analyzing, the Caeretan hydria from Boston. I think this should be as conclusive as it gets.

Color and B&W Photos of Rama and Sita on the Campana Panels from Caere

Ramayana in Archaic Greek and Etruscan Art at Caere, Part VIII

Description (Main Presentation, Part VIII):

Once it is accepted that the Caeretan hydria in Boston and the Campana plaques are representations in all probability of episodes from the legend of Rama, the question of how the story was transmitted from India to Etruria is equally confounding. The basic explanation, given the absence of any written documentation, is that the Persian Achaemenid empire (c. 550-525 BCE), through its noted religious tolerance, permitted artists, bards, and pundits from northwest India to narrate the story of Rama to Ionians and other foreigners that they came into contact with throughout West Asia and the Eastern Mediterranean world, including Asia Minor. This process certainly occurred centuries later when the Ramayana traveled from India to China and Southeast Asia in the eastern direction.

Reaching the boundaries of Indian states such as Gandhara and Taxila, the Persian empire facilitated peaceful movement of stories, beliefs, and people from South Asia to Ionia in Asia Minor (Anatolia). The immigrant artists who moved to Caere in the latter half of the sixth century most likely came from the Ionian city of Phocaea; here they probably gained exposure to the Ramayana because of their strong interest in epic literature and mythology. The Etruscan aristocracy in Caere, having been steeped in Orientalizing influences since at least the seventh century BCE, naturally gravitated towards this legendary hero of Rama and his wife Sita. Their obsession with marital bliss in the afterlife, religiosity, desire to learn about other cultures, fascination with animal hunting and Greek myths of abduction, and interest in emulating great Oriental monarchs, were all factors in the Caeretan embrace of the Valmiki Ramayana.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NIR4xyekvQ

Reproductions of the Campana slabs in full color assist us in properly analyzing the mythological content in them, including four major episodes of the Ramayana. Unfortunately, no reproductions or color photos of the Caeretan hydria in Boston have been made available for further examination. Given this discrepancy in the graphic research material, there are more speculative interpretations that have been proposed for the Campana plaques than the hydria. These guesses about the identity of each figure on the Campana panels reveal ignorance of the actual myth but also useful insights about the general narrative depicted on each panel and the roles of each character. 

Finally, we compare two Indian paintings to the two most important Campana slabs. The flight of Vishnu and Lakshmi, gods who incarnate as Rama and Sita in Hindu religious belief, is a reasonable counterpart to the winged Rama flying through the air with Sita cradled in his arms. The familiar scene of Rama, Sita, and Laksmana walking through the forest in a Bengali painting is a close match to the Campana plaque where Rama leads Sita and Laksmana in their travels outside Ayodhya. In each scene, one of the characters holds a plant or leaf, signifying their life in the wilderness.

Transcript (Main Presentation, Part VIII):

Now that we have examined the Caeretan hydria in great detail, as well as the Campana slabs, the question arises, of course, “Well, okay, these are Ramayana scenes, we can concede that. But how do you prove that they even knew about this legend in the first place? I mean, how did the Oriental legend of Ramayana travel from India to Etruria?” It’s an excellent question and one that is not possible to answer within the scope of this presentation, but I can touch upon it briefly and try to explain how it happened on a high level. 

So this process of transmission of the Ramayana, it happened during the 550 BC to 500 BC range, that is the latter half of the 6th century. And that was when the Persian Achaemenid Empire had stretched itself from Ionia to India (to the borders of northwest India), and that’s in essence what allowed the epic Ramayana to be told for the first time to Europeans in the Mediterranean world. This process is not as certain or as easy to describe in detail because it’s not been documented that well, given that it’s over 2500 years old. But we do have documentation of the fact that the Valmiki Ramayana was transmitted to China and many Southeast Asian countries about 1500 to 2000 years ago. And these Southeast Asian countries are numerous. They include Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, Burma, and Indonesia. And if it could travel 2,000 years ago to these Southeast Asian and East Asian countries, then it definitely could travel far westward as well. So if it could travel far eastward from India, then it surely could also have traveled far westward. It’s only because of the superiority complex of Europeans that it’s not something they’re willing to even admit could have happened.

Generally speaking, the classical scholars like to emphasize how the Greeks influenced the Persians and the Indians, and not the other way around. And that is part of the Eurocentric bias that I’ve been talking about. If you look at the quote from Margaret Miller below, from her book Athens and Persia… A Study in Cultural Receptivity, she notes the “peaceful conditions that were helpful to trade under the new empire (the Achaemenid Persian empire),” starting around 530 BCE, which just happens to coincide with the starting date of the Caeretan workshop that produced all these hydriae (pg. 67). So, in my opinion, there’s too much emphasis on the Greek influence on the Asian countries rather than the other way around. And I think that’s again, part of the problem with the effects of colonialism, and the way the modern world is structured, with the Western world being more materially advanced.

To continue our conversation about the transmission of the Ramayana via the Persian empire, I want to present this graphic which comes from Lindsay Allen’s book The Persian Empire. (Side note: According to the author, the Persian monarchy “fostered unprecedented international communication and cultural exchange.”). And in it (the map) you can see the roads that were existing at that time in the 6th century BC that allowed the Indians to communicate the story all the way to the Mediterranean borders of Ionia. And if you look at it, you can see the roadways connecting from the Indus River Valley in the region of Gandhara and Bactria all the way to Lydia and Caria and Lycia, as well as other parts of Ionia, including Phocaea, where the artists of the Caeretan hydria probably came from.

To make this more specific, the Indians communicated the story of Valmiki’s Ramayana to the Ionians, specifically the Phocaeans in all probability, who then told it in Etruria. The Persian empire reached northwest India - Gandhara, Takshashila (or what is known as Taxila). These areas of northwest India are where the myth of Rama and Sita were probably told by bards, and this included the Golden Deer episode, which then likely traveled all the way to the western coast of Asia Minor, that is Ionia.

Hemelrijk in his book (More on Caeretan Hydriae, Addenda and Clarifications, pg. 76) states: “I take it that the two master-painters of our hydriae left East Greece (Phocaea) before the age at which they would become adult ceramicists. The refugees from Asia Minor fleeing from the Persians in the 40s of the sixth century who wanted to found a new home in Corsica must have been about the best educated people of the time and among them, we gather, our painters grew up. This explains their great interest in literature and mythology.” So this is certainly a very dense explanation and detailed one of the education of the painters, how well-informed they were, and also why they were leaving potentially from Asia Minor, and when they were leaving as well, in the 40s of the sixth century. So there’s a lot of detail here. 

Some of it is not necessarily correct because in my opinion, the idea that Ionian artists were fleeing the tyranny of the Persian oppressors is only one possibility. It is also just as possible that stable conditions around 540 to 530 BCE (which Margaret Miller hints at in the previous slide) may have allowed safe travel and secure trade for the Phocaean immigrants to explore new business opportunities and settle themselves in a land with more hope for a higher quality of life. This is a hypothetical situation of course, but it does resemble contemporary times. People in the 20th century have immigrated to America, not necessarily to escape tyranny, but often simply for a chance at a better life. So what I’m saying here is that there could be a variety of reasons why they immigrated from Asia Minor all the way to Caere in Etruria, but suffice to say they did immigrate, that’s for sure. And they did it early on in the latter half of the sixth century. And they were very well-educated, and they clearly knew about a great variety of myths in literature, not just in the Greek world but even outside of the Greek world.

Now that we have explained how the Ramayana was transmitted to Etruria, the next question would be well, Why did the Etruscans embrace the story of Rama and Sita in the first place? In my opinion, the Etruscans could relate to the ancient Indians and their epic story, even though they were not related at all to them ethnically, racially, linguistically, etc. So they didn’t have any biological relationship with them, but that’s not how they related to them and their epic story. So how could they relate to the main protagonists Rama and Sita? I think one needs only to view the great works of art depicting the happily married couples enjoying the afterlife together, which you can see in the Villa Giulia Museum in Rome, including the famous Sarcophagus of the Spouses (which also comes from Caere). And you just need to see those works of art to see how the Etruscans must have valued the Indian paragon of faithful spouses, Rama and Sita. They definitely put an emphasis on marriage between man and woman, and the marital bliss in their art. 

The next point would be, I believe the Etruscans saw nobility and strength in the story of the Ramayana as well as great drama, especially in the abduction scene of Sita, which was clearly one of their favorites. And I think the popularity of the narrative of satyrs chasing maenads, and hunting animals such as deer, made it easy for this part of the story to become accessible and convertible into a medium that was understandable to the native population in the Mediterranean world. It was easy to translate this part of the story, the Golden Deer episode, into a form that was going to become very popular in the Mediterranean world. And the third point would be that Rama’s qualities of self-restraint, valor, and loyalty were unparalleled in the Indian lore. And the Etruscan kings or the aristocrats, you could say, in Rome and in Caere, likely wanted to emulate these traits. And that’s what explains the somber and devotional tone that you see in the Campana plaques.

The fourth point would be that the Etruscans, being socially isolated from the rest of the world because they were speaking a language that was not part of any major family, Semitic or Indo-European (they were not speaking a language that was Semitic or Indo-European), probably had an unusually strong desire to learn about other cultures and their mythical stories. The tomb also was the perfect storage house for preserving the relics of their far-ranging interests. I think all of these factors contributed to the survival of amazing artifacts that allow us to peer into a mostly undocumented and shadowy period in human history. Therefore, why don’t we celebrate, rather than doubt, the embrace of Indian influence by Etruscan aristocrats of the sixth century?

The Etruscan scholar Jean MacIntosh Turfa explains this Etruscan embrace of Oriental cultures in three words. She calls it the “cosmopolitan inquiring spirit” of the Etruscans, which is a great way to summarize who they are. Another comment I want to make is that we should not be surprised that the Etruscans preserved artistic works depicting the Ramayana better than the Indians themselves were able to do. Because even if we look at the modern world of today, one could very much argue that the traditions of yoga, and even the health system of Ayurveda, are better preserved in the Western world than they are in India itself, and will continue to trend in that direction.

Regarding preservation, (for) the photos you see here of the Campana slabs both on the left and the right, you can see a clear distinction between the color and black and white photos. And furthermore, we don’t have any corresponding color photos for the Caeretan hydria in Boston like we do for these Campana slabs. Even the color photos that you see here that we have of the Campana series are often inferior in quality. So if you look at the bottom left, you’ll see that the black and white image of Rama and Sita and Laksmana walking forward is quite a bit better than the color image. 

And also on the right hand side here we have the fifth Campana slab that we have yet to analyze. And the main reason is that unfortunately part of it is broken off. And so we don’t have the face of the lady completely painted and depicted. But I think the most likely explanation for this one is that it’s just a romantic scene between Rama and Sita during their stay in the forest. So it’s not as important as the other four slabs, but definitely seems to be a continuation of the slab on the left where Rama and Sita and Laksmana are walking in the forest here. It’s probably the two of them just casually relaxing, during their time in exile. 

Also, I want to add that the scholar Mario Del Chiaro (see also Part III) noticed that there were “essentially congruent profile heads exhibited by the women depicted on three of the Campana panels,” including this last panel here, which is broken off. And that indicates clearly that Sita is being depicted in three of the scenes, in all three scenes. There are also three congruent profile heads of Rama in the Campana panels, including these two scenes that you can see on this slide, where you have Rama holding bow and arrows on the leftmost slab, as well as on this broken slab where he’s unarmed and enjoying a romantic moment with his wife. You can see the same shape of the beard, the same type of eyes and facial appearance and long hair. And you also see a gesture with the right hand as well in both, and similar clothing. 

They really are the same person on three of the slabs, including the other one where he’s rescuing Sita. In that one, there’s two versions of Rama. The one on the leftmost side is also bearded, just like these two characters here. So, there are actually three congruent profile heads for Sita and for Rama in the Campana slabs. That really confirms that these are the two most important characters that are featured on these Campana panels. I think that people should petition the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to put the Caeretan hydria No. 2 with the Boston deer hunt on display so that people can look at it in color, and also take photos of course, but especially to be able to view it and see it in its full glory and really judge for themselves what they think it is.

We actually do have reproductions of the Campana slab paintings at the Bologna Etruscan Museum, which is in the northern part of Tuscany. And these provide more visual evidence of the Valmiki Ramayana, through these modern renditions, where the characters are restored and the painting is restored to what it may have been originally. So if we examine these modern renditions, these reproductions in Bologna, we see that in the bottom left corner from left to right, King Dasaratha is again seated with his preceptor Vashishta, with Kaikeyi flying over to intervene. And you can see her right hand raised to interfere with what they were discussing. Then in the middle we have the Rama and Sita and Laksmana walking close together, both in the top and bottom photos. They’re the photos of the same picture (of the same artwork that’s been reproduced). And on the bottom right you have Bharata performing penances in solitude at a fire altar. So that’s the bottom right. And then on the top right corner you can see Rama again, carrying his wife back home as a triumphant hero.

I want to give a brief overview of some of the speculative interpretations of these Campana plaques. The Etruscan researchers have come to conclusions that reflect both their ignorance of the actual myth from the Ramayana and also their sporadically correct observations of the characters’ general roles. So the first quote I’m going to give you is correct actually. It’s a correct statement and it’s found in the book Etruscan Art by Otto Brendel. He writes (pg. 174) that “evidently five of the slabs formed part of a continuous decoration,” meaning that they formed a connected narrative. And definitely this is a statement that I agree with and it refutes the published views of the Louvre Museum that we discussed earlier. 

But the problem is that Otto Brendel incorrectly guesses the meaning of the three main Campana slabs. He writes that “in one slab one may identify Iphigenia led to her sacrifice by two men carrying weapons.” (pg. 175). So instead of it being Sita, and Rama and Laksmana leading her in the front and back, it’s instead Iphigenia being led to a sacrifice by two nondescript men. But clearly these two men are not nondescript. They’re clearly great heroes, just like the two youths in the Caeretan hydria. So we can refute that one right away. Now the next statement is, in another slab, he says that “Calchas the seer and King Agamemnon, seated, (are) deliberating about the means of reconciling the offended goddess Artemis.” (pg. 175). So you can see that he does come close here in the sense that he identifies that one is a king and one is a seer, just like King Dasaratha and the seer Vashishta. So conceptually he’s right, but the characters he has gotten wrong because of the obsession with trying to fit this forcibly into some kind of Greek myth.

And the last statement is in the abduction scene: “Iphigenia may again be recognized, this time rescued from the sacrificial altar by Apollo with bow and arrows (which would be the left figure) and then Artemis (who’s the winged figure in his eyes), who carries her away through the air.” (pg. 175). Now, there is one problem with this, which is pretty glaring. And Warren G. Moon, which is the next quote that I’ll give you, he observes in his book Ancient Greek Art and Iconography that “Artemis is identified as the winged figure (in Brendel’s book) even though her flesh is not painted white as is Iphigenia’s.” (pg. 117). And this observation is critical because it proves that the character is not female like Artemis, but is male with a tanned face and a shaven face. But if you look at the skin color (and I think we’ve discussed this earlier), the females tend to be painted lighter skinned or fairer skinned than the male characters. If you again look at any of the Campana plaques, you’ll see that Rama is depicted with a darker skin and Sita is depicted with fairer skin. So this statement or this opinion that it’s Artemis who’s the winged figure just simply does not accord with the reality that it’s a male figure, clearly because of the tanned color of the face.

Now that’s wrong, yes. But he has gotten something right here. And that’s the fact that he realizes that Iphigenia, who is really Sita, is again recognized a second time (and he also seems to recognize that Apollo, who is really Rama, is rescuing the lady). So he recognizes that the same character is being depicted in two different Campana slabs. And that’s exactly what I’ve been talking about with not only the Campana slabs, but also the Caeretan hydria, that Sita is the maenad in both scenes on the left and right on the reverse side of the hydria. So he does get that right. He does realize that the same female character is being depicted twice (he also nearly realized that Rama is depicted twice on this particular slab, but felt like identifying the brother Apollo with his sister Artemis in a dual rescue).

I wanted to finish our discussion about the Campana slabs with a presentation of two Indian counterparts to two of the main Campana slabs that are not exactly the same. But (they) are definitely similar to the two Campana slabs in which Rama and Sita and Laksmana are walking in the forest, and the other Campana slab where Rama is carrying Sita in the sky as a winged figure. So on the left hand side we see here the royal, divine bird Garuda carrying the divine couple Vishnu and Lakshmi. Now Rama and Sita are earthly incarnations of these two Hindu gods Vishnu and Lakshmi respectively, and you can see them smiling at each other while flying in the sky in this painting on the left.

In the book In the Realm of Gods and Kings: Arts of India, they describe this scene in more detail. They say Garuda, the divine bird (“king of birds”), “bears Vishnu with his consort Lakshmi in stately flight,” and Vishnu “holds a bow and arrow” just like Rama (pg. 114-115). And “the divine couple here gaze at one another with serene devotion.” (pg. 115). And we can see that even in the Campana plaque with Sita gazing at her husband and hero, Rama, with that same kind of serene devotion.

Now on the right hand side we see another Bengali folk painting depicting Rama and Sita in the middle and Laksmana walking behind them through the forest. And what you will notice is that Laksmana is the one holding the leaf this time over their heads to protect them, probably from the rain or whatnot. And as you can see it’s very similar to the Campana slab again. Just the variation is in the person who is holding the leaf or flower. It could be Rama, it could be Sita. It could be Rama, Sita, or Laksmana himself. So it could be any one of the three characters holding the leaf or flower or branch, signifying that they are walking through the wilderness. And you can also see the design of green leaves on the top of the painting as well, just like the lotus palmettes in the Caeretan hydria.