American white ibis, Napoleon Bonaparte, the Rosetta Stone, the British Ornithological Union - what might these have in common, you ask? All of them were station stops on a recent trip down that rabbit hole called the Internet. With plans to travel to the Gulf Coast of Florida in a few days, I was thinking about some of the birds I have seen there in the past, in particular, the oddly endearing American White Ibis, and wondering about the sacred nature of the ibis to the ancient Egyptians. Searching “ibis” led me unexpectedly to the British Ornithological Union because its monthly publication is called Ibis, with a picture of the African Sacred Ibis gracing its cover since 1859.

But no ibis species exist naturally in Great Britain. What does exist there at the British Museum among the plundered artifacts of British colonial disregard are some mummified remains of the African Sacred Ibis and the Rosetta Stone. In 1798, Napoleon led 30,000 French soldiers on an expedition of colonialization to Egypt and Syria, with conquests of Malta and Crete along the way. The leaders of the young French Republic wanted to block British trade with India and get the annoyingly ambitious young General Bonaparte out of their hair. In addition to soldiers and sailors, Napoleon’s entourage included a multidisciplinary band of intellectuals who, among other things, discovered thousands of mummified ibises and what became known as the Rosetta Stone after the town where it was found. While Napoleon was militarily successful on land, the French fleet was defeated by the British Navy under Admiral Horatio Nelson, marking the failure of the entire French enterprise. As a result, many of the spoils intended for Paris went to London instead, including the Rosetta Stone and some of the mummified ibises.

The Rosetta Stone, you may recall, launched the field of Egyptology. It contains the text of a 196 BCE decree by King Ptolemy V announcing a massive tax cut and other populist perks. Importantly, the entire text of the decree is written (in stone, haha) in two languages and three versions - ancient Egyptian in both hieroglyphic symbols and a more phonetic Dometic script and ancient Greek script. Eventually, the three versions were translated and cross-referenced, providing a foundational hieroglyphic dictionary and allowing the secrets of ancient Egyptian tombs and monuments to be revealed.

But what about all of those mummified ibises? Ancient Egyptians revered the Sacred Ibises as earthly manifestations of the god Thoth, the god of wisdom, knowledge, reason, and (strangely) magic, and also as capable of warding off deadly but imaginary flying serpents. Unfortunately for the ibises, this reverence was expressed by killing and mummifying the birds, a fate experienced by literally millions of ibises. This practice was so widespread that ibis farms were created to breed the birds for sacrifice and mummification. (Clearly, the ancient origin of the modern turkey farm). And the early 19th century scientific study of the Sacred Ibis remains led to The Great Ibis Debate, an argument for the fixity of species stalling early theories of evolution fifty years before Charles Darwin but not stalling the sacred bird’s enshrinement on the cover of the magazine of the newly formed British Ornithological Union.

With their origins in sub-Saharan Africa, ibises eventually found their way into Europe, first to zoos and then into the wild. Worldwide, there are 29 species of ibis in 12 genera (TIL the plural of genus is genera). I don’t know how my Floridian American White Ibis or its Glossy Ibis cousin is related to its sacred African version, but one might think it is as revered in Florida as in ancient Egypt. Groups of ibises wander everywhere in central and southern Florida and, unlike most birds, seem fearless of the humans (and cars, buses, and trucks) around them. However, this short poem sadly portrays the consequences of their proximity to the human presence.

White Ibis with Plastic Bag by Alison Cassidy

I was pushing the laden trolley

when I saw him – flying low
with long outstretched wings
and something blue
like a parachute
trailing behind.

A white ibis!

He dropped out of the air
close to me
and staggered
drunkenly
into the Safeway loading bay.

I crawled after him on hands and knees.

He was utterly helpless
helpless and ridiculous
wearing that silly plastic bag
like a necklace.

A moment of hesitation
– as I perused the long curved bill –
then I lunged quickly
and held the bird tight
(Mum used to keep chooks)

His trembling body felt warm
and fragile beneath my hands
and his beak wasn’t sharp at all –
but rubbery when he pecked me.
It didn’t hurt a bit.

I removed the bag
and the bird flew away
leaving me strangely elated.