Meggie Macdonald

Florin Diacu’s book “The Lost Millenium:  History’s Timetables Under Siege”  (Knopf Canada, 2005) was recently brought to my attention and I read it with avid interest.  Diacu critically analyzes the postulates of Russian mathematician Anatoli Fomenko, who suggests that approximately one thousand years of human history never happened, and that historical events have been incorrectly identified as consecutive rather than simultaneous.  Fomenko is directly attacking the chronology of sixteenth century Dutch scholar Joseph Justus Scaliger

Fomenko suggests several ways in which this is apparent in history.  Celestial mechanics – the relatively predictable movement of planetary bodies – can be used to pinpoint events in history that refer to eclipses, horoscope readings, or other celestial events.  Diacu, himself a professor of celestial mechanics at the University of Victoria in Canada, works his way through the proofs that Fomenko offered and found that his information was, for the most part, valid.  Two major historical events are used for these proofs:  the Peloponnesian War and the First Council of Nicaea.

Thucydides, the Athenian admiral who fought in the 30-years-long war between Athens and Sparta, traditionally dated to the fifth century BCE (431 to 404 BCE) noted several celestial events during that time, portents of the terrible waste of the war and the displeasure from the gods about that war.  Fomenko suggests that the eclipses and visible stars Thucydides mentions actually occured some time in the tenth century AD, when the movements of the planets would have been aligned to facilitate such observations.

Fomenko also notes that the original transcripts of the First Council of Nicaea (traditionally dated to AD 325) are not extant; however, the letters that the Emperor Constantine wrote to the bishops who did not attend still exist.  Constantine notes several observations of the stars during this time, most probably to strengthen the veracity of his decisions with regard to codifying Christian religious texts and doctrines.  Fomenko suggests that the ecumenical council actually occured sometime in the twelfth century AD.

With regard to celestial mechanics, I have very little professional training to weigh in with a substantially researched opinion.  I read these sections pleasantly skeptical.  There is something to say for even considering the option that the dates we were all made to remember may not be exact at all, but only relative (and perhaps not even that).  I am certainly willing to entertain the idea.

However, when Diacu came to the section of his book dealing with comparative sequencing of chronologies and the hypothesis of Fomenko that because one series of reigns is similar to another they must be identical, my pleasant skepticism became flagrant disbelief.

Fomenko’s work, summarized by Diacu in Chapter 7 – “Overlapping Dynasties”, lacks even the suspension of disbelief science fiction balances on.  Fomenko suggests that the First Roman Pontificate from roughly AD 141-314 and the Second Roman Pontificate (AD 314- 532) have been conflated and are actually the same set of popes because, primarily, the lengths of their reigns were similar (in addition to other similar historical events during corresponding papal reigns).  He also suggests that the Carolingian kings – including Charles Martel and Charlemagne – and the Third Roman Empire from the third to the sixth centuries – including Theodosius and Odoacer – are also identical.

By chance, after reading through this section, satisfactorally dismissed by Diacu, I remembered an assignment that Timothy Barnes (a renowned scholar of Late Antiquity) handed out to one of my senior undergraduate classes.  We were tasked with providing three lists of Roman emperors from the same time period.  The first identified emperors of the East and West from the death of Theodosius to the death of Valentinian III.  The second listed Western emperors recognised in Rome.  The third detailed Western emperors that were part of the imperial college.

These lists are provided below:

List #1:  Eastern and Western Emperors from the Death of Theodosius to the Death of Valentinian III

Theodosius I 378-395 AD

WEST:  Honorius 393-423; Valentinian III 425-455

EAST:  Arcadius 395-408; Theodosius II 408-450; Marcian 450-457

List #2:  Western Emperors Recognised in Rome

Honorius 393-423; Priscus Attalus 409-411; Constantius III 421; Johannes 423-425; Valentinian 425-455; Petronius Maximus 455; Avitus 455-456; Majorian 457 or 458-461 (in conjunction with Leo I – both were recognised as consul in the East and the West in 459); Libius Severus 461-465; Anthemius 467-472; Olybrius 472; Julius Nepos 473-475; Romulus Augustulus 475-476

List #3:  Western Emperors Part of the Imperial College

Majorian 457/458-461; Interregnum (?); Anthemius 467-472; Julius Nepos 473-480

As you can tell, there is a great deal of overlap here.  In addition, the lists differ based on who was recognised where and what institution (if we can use the anachronism) they were each associated with.  Another example to use could be the lists of rulers during the Crisis of the Third Century.  Limiting what variables with which one includes one man’s name over another is how mathematics narrows its scope and, to a certain extent, how historians try to sift through the ocean of information (or lack thereof).  However, just because one emperor was not identified by Rome when another one was, that does not mean that this emperor did not exist. Fomenko’s proofs rely on the mathematician’s disregard of some names or events and the inclusion of others without historical rationales.

Florin Diacu rightly summarizes his journey into the heart of Fomenko’s research:  “Fomenko’s chronology results seem to fall into three categories:  good, mediocre, and blunders.  The first have enough credibility to merit serious attention; the second are set on a shaky foundation, but their overall framework is worth investigating; the third have damaged his academic reputation and continue to harm him” (Diacu, pp.247-248).  Diacu the polymath appreciates the value of constantly questioning the assumptions of academia about ancient and medieval history, but Diacu the mathematician deconstructs Fomenko’s work with the critical eye of a comrade.  The idea is a brilliant example of thinking outside the box; the proof would not support a matchstick house.

If we had this piece of information, we could be sure; but since we don’t have it, we can never be sure.  The circular argument continues.

I have recently moved back to Canada from the UK and, although there was a vague reference to the reconstructed face of Museum subway station in Toronto in the news before I left, I had entirely forgotten about it until I returned to the city and saw it for myself.

The new station, a significant improvement on the old yellowed tile walls much in need of renovation, has pillars in the shape of figures including West Coast totem poles, Central American gods, Egyptian sarcophagi, and Doric columns.  In addition, the TTC text identifying the station now showcases Egyptian hieroglyphs from behind a clear cut-out.

In a single move, the Royal Ontario Museum has highlighted the best of its collections – images that are immediately evocative of coming face-to-face with magical statues as a child visiting the museum for the first time.  As part of the TTC’s revitalization project, architectural firm Diamond and Schmitt have designed and achieved a very appealing result for Museum station. 

Following further investigation, however, I found that there are few who think highly of the new design and instead they lament what one article called the TTC’s quintessential ‘washroom stations’.  One piece in Transit Toronto by Alex Bozikovic highlights the issues surrounding the lukewarm reception the renovation has received:  the TTC’s graphic identity.  Like Transport for London in the UK, who similarly hold the copyright on the font used for the graphic text on the Underground (Johnston, or Johnston Sans), the TTC’s famous font - Toronto Subway Regular – is the exclusive property of the TTC.  As one element that contributes to the Toronto subway’s graphic identity, this font as well as the tiled designs in most of the stations created in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s are treated as a child treats a worn-out favourite teddy bear:  they will fight for it to stay exactly the same, missing limbs and loose button eyes and all, and will fight vehemently.

I think the character of public transit should be cultivated so that the public takes an active and personal interest in its welfare.  But taking it to the point where anything new is treated as a visual irritation, forcing die-hard enthusiasts to avert their eyes, is ridiculous.  Character is not static, not immutable, but polymorphic and eternally so.  It doesn’t matter if that character belongs to a person, an inanimate object, or an ideal.

I think that the newly renovated Museum station draws the eye to the ROM above the same way that, for example, Holborn station does for the mighty British Museum nearby.  You know a cultural centre is nearby, and a spur-of-the-moment decision could get you there.  And remembering to think about your surroundings is something that more people should do generally.  I applaud Diamond and Schmitt for their creative efforts, and look forward to seeing their designs for two further stations – St. Patrick (Art Gallery of Ontario) and Osgoode (Toronto Performing Arts Centre) – come to fruition.