Stirring Up the Ghost of Simon Bolivar

You have to hand to Hugo Chavez: He really knows how to stir things up.

So Chavez, the leader of Venezuela, has ordered the exhumation of the remains of Simon Bolivar, the greatest of all South American military leaders, to prove a point. That's what it's always about with Chavez — proving a point.

So why dig up this great savior, this man who single-handedly turned back hundreds of years of Spanish oppression? Well, to rewrite … sorry, to see if modern technology can shed more light on history.

See, Simon Bolivar died of TB in 1830. That's a long time ago, true, but they knew what tuberculosis was back then. So the charismatic Bolivar rode his horse up hill and down dale and inspired thousands to take up their arms and follow him into battle against the almighty Spain. A handful of countries owe their thanks to Bolivar's efforts.

But Bolivar died of TB — at least that's what most historians tell us.

Chavez, though, has other ideas. He insists that Bolivar died at the hands of not some dread disease but some dread Colombian. And that is definitely fighting words in Colombia.

The Colombian in question is Francisco de Paula Santander, who served as Vice-president of the Republic of Colombia under Bolivar (the president) and later served as President of the Republic of New Granada.

Santander and Bolivar started out as friends and allies but gradually grew apart as the events of the world overtook them (and they began to see each other as rivals for the people's affections). The disagreements came to a head in the late 1820s, when Bolivar declared himself dictator of Colombia and exiled Santander. Around this time, Bolivar narrowly escaped an assassination attempt and many people at the time thought that Santander was involved.

So, too, apparently does Chavez.

But why now, why this way? Modern relations between the two countries are already strained. Surely Chavez is just playing a game of one-upmanship. This couldn't possibly be a pretense for sanctions or incursions or some other such silly thing.

Stay tuned.

200-Year-Old Ship Found in Mud at Ground Zero

A recent find at Ground Zero has workers abuzz but in a good way.

Construction workers digging below street level in Manhattan to build a memorial to the victims of the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001 have found the hull and other remains of a ship that looks to have been buried as junk more than 200 years ago. One of the pieces is 32 feet long. Both pieces are being treated with extreme care because their sudden exposure to oxygen, after a couple of centuries of preservation in mud, has accelerated their decomposition. In the meantime, workers have been busily photographing and measuring the remains, so that research can continue in the event that the pieces of wood well and truly fall apart.

Archaeologists have discovered other evidence of human presence, including pieces of shoes and a 100-pound iron anchor.

Historians say this kind of ship was used in the 1700s but was probably not a ship of choice by the time it was sunk, likely to serve as support for a southern expansion of landfill making up the boundaries of Manhattan. (A ship sunk for similar purposes was discovered nearby in 1982.)

Still unknown: what kind of wood has been found, how old the ship really is, and whether the ship sailed in the Caribbean (as one historian thinks likely, based on remains of marine life discovered attached to the wood).

Construction continues in the area, as workers build the set of large buildings set to replace the World Trade Center and function as a memorial. The discovery of the ship has been a highlight amid the mixed reactions to the decision to rebuild on the Trade Center site and also a reminder that the area was a center of commerce long before 1973, when the Trade Center was unveiled to the world.

Leonardo Painting Termed a Solo Effort After All

Ah, modern technology. We curse it sometimes; other times, it can tell us something quite extraordinary that we might not otherwise realize.

Such is the case with the latest news out of the U.K. National Gallery, which has announced that experts believe that Leonardo painted the famed Virgin of the Rocks all by himself.

What's the big deal? Well, up until now, acute analysis of the painting has convinced experts that the variance in brush strokes and finality of shapes and structures meant that assistants had helped Leonardo with this one. But recent restoration has revealed more evidence in favor of the sole painter theory, especially given Leonardo's penchant for leaving things unfinished, as if he always had another element to add. (Is the Mona Lisa unfinished? Film at 11.)

The National Gallery is in the final stages of a 18-month restoration project. Among the other findings was a wider range of tone in the late-15th Century painting.

Also strengthening the claim is a 2005 finding from an infrared scan revealing a pair of unfinished drawings virtually hidden under what we know as the surface layer; one of these drawings provided proof that Leonardo indeed kept changing his mind as he painted.

All of this is, of course, right in line with the master's "sfumato" technique, which created, among other things, elements of illusion in the artworks. "Sfumato" is derived from sfumare, which is Italian for "to evaporate like smoke."

The London painting is one of two versions of this particular masterpiece. The earlier version hangs in the Louvre.

Purveyors of pop culture will remember that this painting featured in Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code.

Newly Unearthed Old Kingdom Tombs Yield Brilliant Colors

A new round of excitement is thrilling archaeologists in Egypt, after the showing off of photos from a newly unearthed set of Old Kingdom tombs. Specifically, the twin tombs originally contained the last resting places of a father and son who were in charge of the royal scribes. (We know this because of the hieroglyphs found on the walls and false doors of the tombs.)

Zahi Hawass, the most well-known and most senior at the Department of Antiquities, made good use of the media by unveiling the vivid colors found in the drawings on the false doors. One door contained an inscription with the name of Pepi II, a pharaoh whose time on the throne was Egypt's longest, at nearly a hundred years.

Nearby is the famed Step Pyramid of King Djoser, itself surrounded by a large burial ground. Archaeological teams began digging in the area three years ago and have unearthed six tombs so far.

Sadly, the two most recently unearthed tombs had poorly kept interior remains. The tomb of the son, Khonsu, was the victim of robbery ages ago. His father, Shendwas, fared no better, as his sarcophagus had fallen victim to one of ancient Egypt's sharpest foes in the struggle for immortality: humidity.

Hawass and others are hopeful that this is only the beginning.

Cutting the Gordian Knot: Alexander at His Creative Best

One of the many apocryphal stories about Alexander the Great is his solving of the problem of the Gordian Knot. In true Alexander fashion, he found his own solution to a problem that had vexed all before him.

An intricate knot was used by a man named Gordius to secure his oxcart. This man was a peasant who came to Phrygia in an oxcart. An oracle had told the Phyrgians that their next king would arrive in a wagon. The oxcart was good enough for them, and they made Gordius king. He responded by offering his oxcart to Zeus and tying the cart up with a difficult knot. Gordius was succeeded by Midas, who didn't leave an heir. The same oracle who had spoken before now told the people that whoever untied the knot would have the rule of all Asia.

It was quite the puzzle, this knot. Many men had tried to untie it; none had succeeded. So Alexander, no stranger to puzzles (having studied under the great Aristotle) and wanting to make a name for himself in this part of the world, announced that he would solve this puzzle.

Not much is known about how much Alexander examined or prodded the knot. The knot was, after all, tied to an oxcart and in full view of everyone around it, so it's unlikely that Alexander had any chance to do anything other than what he did to solve the puzzle.

For solve the puzzle he did. He untied the knot by cutting it with his sword! Faced with a problem whose solution had eluded a great many men, Alexander changed the rules and found his own way forward — a strategy that epitomized his entire career and very way of thinking. He reached the ends but by means other than what was expected.

What was it about this knot that had so vexed the brave and clever before Alexander? It was certainly a puzzle, this knot that looked like it had no ends. How could one possibly untie a knot that had nowhere to start untying? Surely many men had left, shaking their heads, after trying in vain to get the knot undone.

But Alexander was different. He was brash. He was self-confident. He was extremely intelligent. He had a keen sense of the possible, even in the face of seemingly impossibility and overwhelming odds against him. He saw what others did not, believed what others would not, succeeded where others could not.

Alexander saw through the way the problem was presented, beyond the "rules" that said one had to use one's hands and wits and seize the knot by the ends in order to untie it. Rather than try what others had, Alexander forged a new path, succeeding where everyone else had failed.

Was this a technicality? Probably. Technically, Alexander did untie the knot. After he cut it with his sword, the knot was easily enough untied.

Did he fulfill the prophecy foretold by the oracle? He most certainly did. Alexander and his loyal men conquered more territory than anyone before him (and many since) and stretched the boundaries of what Greek minds would know as "the known world" far beyond the imaginations of the time. His boldness, courage, and vision got him there — the same skills that enabled him to see through the trap of trying to untie the knot in the conventional way and find a way to achieve the end by different means.

In recent years, historians have come to doubt the veracity of this story, either its elements or its entirety. Whether the oracle element was around in Alexander's lifetime or whether it was invented later for convenience is really neither here nor there. In fact, whether Alexander actually cut the knot at all is probably neither here nor there. For the real lesson in all of this is not whether the events really happened but, rather, what the events demonstrate about Alexander, his character, his vision, and his accomplishments. We know a lot about Alexander the Great, thanks in large part to several prominent biographers who lived in his lifetime. We have lots of facts about him and his reign and his battlefield acumen. We know a lot about his vision and his temperament and his extraordinary luck, on the battlefield and off. This story most certainly illustrates a character that we are already familiar with — the bold Alexander, trading a solution for stagnation, a new way of thinking for tired persistence in the face of continual defeat.

If Alexander didn't cut the Gordian Knot, he should have.

Hi-tech Imaging Reveals 'Edit' in Declaration of Independence

It's like something out of a recent Nicolas Cage movie, except no one was hurt in the process.

Out of the Library of Congress comes word that new high-tech science has revealed proof of a word change that Thomas Jefferson made while writing the Declaration of Independence.

By using a hi-res digital camera on an early draft of the Declaration (wonderfully preserved, of course), preservation scientists at the Library of Congress have uncovered stunning proof that Jefferson made a word change. How do we know this after all these years? The digital camera, through a technique called hyperspectral imaging, showed one word underneath another.

The Declaration of Independence includes an extensive list of grievances that the American colonists had against King George III of England. Toward the end of this list, Jefferson makes reference to the British captive of capturing American sailors and forcing them to fight against their American countrymen.

As it reads now, this grievance begins: "He has constrained our fellow citizens taken captive on the high seas to bear arms against their country …"

The key word in that sentence is citizens. In the earlier draft examined by the Library of Congress, Jefferson used the word subjects, which has an altogether different connotation. A subject acknowledges sovereignty of someone else; a citizen, on the other hand, considers his membership in a society independent of that society's ruler, particularly a monarch.

The Declaration of Independence makes very clear that many Americans in the late 18th Century considered themselves already independent from Great Britain. Stunned by a series of severe taxes, the colonists on the eastern seaboard of North America revolted, crying out for the right of taxation without representation, self-government, and other "inalienable rights." Jefferson's words in the Declaration were a clear representation of those sentiments and dearly held beliefs.

The scientists at the Library of Congress were very safe in their handling of Jefferson's early draft, exposing it to air only as long as necessary and making sure that it was transferred back and forth from lab to resting place under armed guard. And, in photos they revealed to the world, there was clear evidence of Jefferson's "live edit," a wipeout of one word and replacement with another — two words that were at once close in meaning yet worlds apart in interpretation.