Cleopatra's Fall: A Mirror for Rome's Ignored Voices

A.D. 30, Rome

Ah, Rome! The city of unparalleled beauty, and yet, beneath the grandeur of the Colosseum and the majesty of the Pantheon, there lies a reality that is easily forgotten—our society's dismissal of the marginalized and the underrepresented.

Let's turn our eyes for a moment to the recent tragic demise of Cleopatra VII Philopator, the last active ruler of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt. Cleopatra, the queen who dared to challenge the status quo and gave voice to the voiceless, thus meeting her untimely end. This is not just a tale of a fallen foreign queen, my fellow Romans, it is a reflection of our own society, a mirror showing us our follies and biases.

The narrative concocted around Cleopatra's life and death is saturated with gender stereotypes and Orientalist assumptions. Yes, I said it! So much for the Roman objectivity, eh? We've painted her as a seductress, a manipulator, a woman who used her charm to manipulate powerful men like Julius Caesar and Mark Antony. But let's pause for a moment and flip the script.

Cleopatra was an accomplished diplomat, a polyglot who could speak at least seven languages, and oh, did I mention? She was the first Ptolemaic Pharaoh to actually speak Egyptian. She also embarked on ambitious building projects and important economic reforms. All these factors make her a competent and effective ruler. But alas, we let our biases overshadow her achievements, don't we?

This is not just about Cleopatra. It's about the countless women in our society who are continuously underestimated and overlooked, boxed into societal expectations. It's about the slaves who toil tirelessly for our comfort, the foreigners who are treated as intruders instead of guests, and the poor who are blamed for their own poverty.

What happened to Cleopatra is a stark reminder of what happens when our society dismisses the voices of the marginalized. It's a wake-up call to recognize the power of those deemed powerless by the narrow standards of our society.

So, dear Romans, as we mourn the tragic end of a great queen, let's take a moment to reflect on our own biases and prejudices. Let's strive for a Rome where everyone, regardless of their gender, social status, or ethnic origin, can thrive and be heard. After all, if we can build an empire that spans the known world, surely we can build one that is fair and inclusive too.

So, eat your figs and drink your wine, but also remember, change starts at home. And Rome, oh dear Rome, it's high time we faced the mirror. Let's not wait for another Cleopatra to fall.