Do As the Romans Do

While I've never been to Rome, or anywhere in Italy actually, I am, as you all probably are, familiar with its ancient leader Julius Caesar. If you don't know who he is, you've probably at least seen his bust (shown above), heard of Shakespeare (who wrote about him), seen the movie with the guy from the Godfather, or gone to a toga party (toga! toga! toga!). Anyway, you're probably only a couple degrees away from knowing who he is if you don't already. In brief, he was a Roman general who was stabbed to death by a group of traitors, including his frienemy Brutus.

He also claimed to have epilepsy.

Keyword here is "claimed". Recently, researchers Francesco M. Galassi and Hytan Ashrafian argued that Caesar may not have had epilepsy, but perhaps suffered from cerebrovascular disease, which can cause a stroke (see here). Why then, would Caesar have claimed to have epilepsy? From a current point of view, I can't see how this would do anyone any good. However, we have to put ourselves in Caesar's world.

The Local quotes Galassi as saying, "In the ancient world epilepsy was regarded as a sacred disease; people who suffered from epilepsy were thought as having a direct connection with the god" (see here).

In other words, it was a marketing tactic. Now, I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, Caesar was a bit of a dick. He used the misfortune of others to gain followers (something only the ancient Romans did right?). On the other hand, it's nice that the disorder was seen as something awe-worthy. As in "if only I could be like Caesar and talk to the gods through uncontrollable spasms and brain farts". 

There's a bigger issue here, much too big to explore in a blog, and that is: how do current societal norms and values affect how we view epilepsy? Why did the ancient Romans treat this poorly understood condition as god-like and not "devil-like", for lack of a better term? They could easily have seen his episodes as evidence of demonic possession. If I were Brutus, I would forgo the whole stabbing thing and just spread some rumors about that. I don't know a whole lot about Rome in those days, but I bet Caesar would get some heat for conspiring with the devil.

But what about today? In current Western society? I've been accused of many things, but no one has ever concluded that I'm speaking to the gods or that I'm channeling some demonic force (although my mother might argue otherwise). Then again, I've never used my condition to gain political standing.

The point is, there is something, or a great deal of somethings, that makes a particular community react to a particular situation, in a particular way. The Romans called those with epilepsy god-like. We call it a disability, because it has become just that.

What might we call it in the future?

While we can't know for sure what the future holds, we as individuals can shape how conditions like epilepsy are qualified.

Phillip K. Dick once said, "The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use them." The media and those in marketing use this tactic all the time. For example, how do you feel when I say the words "all natural". Good right? It's because we've associated "natural" with something positive, even though we all know nature can sometimes be a bitch.

Let's do the same. Let's have terms related to epilepsy be ones that inspire. Let's do as the Romans did. (But not get stabbed to death by traitors.)

Stay tuned for my future series, a review of J. Ernest Bryant's "Genius and Epilepsy: Brief Sketches of Great Men Who Had Both".