Potential proposal would secure control of Diego Garcia base amid stalled UK plans to cede sovereignty of territory
Donald Trump is reportedly weighing a plan to buy the Chagos Islands from Mauritius amid stalled plans from the UK to cede sovereignty of the territory, the Telegraph first reported.
The White House did not respond to the Guardian’s request for comment on the report about the potential plan.
Ancient Elamite ziggurat Choqa Zanbil in Iran. Credit: Wikimedia Commons, GFDL
In the Trojan War of Greek mythology, many nations were allied with Troy to fight against the Greeks. This included many of the nations of ancient Anatolia. Perhaps the most surprising participant in the Trojan War, however, was a prince from ancient Iran. He was Memnon, best known as the Ethiopian ruler who died at the hands of Achilles in the final year of the war.
Memnon, king of the eastern Ethiopians
Since Memnon is usually remembered as being a king of the Ethiopians, how can he have been from ancient Iran? The reason is that there was more than just one group of people known to the Greeks as Ethiopians.
For example, notice the words of Greek historian Herodotus of the fifth century BCE in his description of the large army of Xerxes the Great:
“Ethiopians above Egypt and the Arabians had Arsames for commander, and the Ethiopians of the east (for there were two kinds of them in the army) served with the Indians.”
This shows that the Greeks recognized the existence of Ethiopians outside of Africa. Specifically, these other Ethiopians lived in the east, evidently not too far from India. Since Memnon was the king of the Ethiopians, he could potentially have been the king of either the eastern Ethiopians or the African ones.
It is worth mentioning that in ancient Greek, the word Αἰθίοψ (Ethiops) was used not only to describe a specific group of people, but also more generally to refer to individuals with darker skin. The term is a compound of αἴθω (to burn) and ὤψ (face or appearance), literally meaning “burnt-face.” It appears frequently in early Greek literature, such as Homer’s epics, where Ethiopians are depicted as distant, noble figures living at the edges of the known world, rather than as members of a clearly defined nation.
The Ethiopians of Iran
Herodotus himself states that the city of Susa, the ancient capital of Elam (a prominent region in what is now Iran), was known as the city of Memnon. This suggests that Memnon was the king of the eastern Ethiopians, evidently a people in the region of Iran.
This is confirmed by Ctesias, just a few decades after Herodotus. According to this Greek historian, Memnon’s father, Tithonus, was the ruler of Persia. He was either subject to or allied with the king of the Assyrian Empire.
The territory of Persia in the time of the Assyrian Empire corresponded to a large part of what is now Iran. According to Ctesias, Memnon built a palace for himself at Susa. He goes on to claim that Memnon’s army, which he led to Troy, was composed of many Ethiopians and Susians, or inhabitants of Susa.
As for why the Greeks called the inhabitants of that region ‘Ethiopians’, we cannot be sure. However, it may be related to the use of the word ‘Cissians‘ (‘Kíssioi’ in Greek) for the inhabitants of the region of Elam. The Greeks might have confused this for ‘Kush’, the name for the kingdom of the Ethiopians south of Egypt.
How ancient Iran participated in the Trojan War
Ctesias provides the most detailed early account of this army from ancient Iran that fought in the Trojan War. According to Ctesias, King Priam of Troy was subordinate to the king of Assyria, named Teutamos. Due to the difficulties he was facing in the Trojan War, he sent word to Teutamos to ask for help.
As a result, Teutamos sent a large army of 10,000 Ethiopians and 10,000 Susians under the command of Memnon. This army from ancient Iran marched from the furthest corner of the Assyrian Empire over to Troy. Ctesias wrote:
“Memnon assisted the Trojans with 20,000 infantry and 200 chariots and… he was admired for his courage and for killing many Greeks in battle.”
Despite his prowess in battle, Ctesias goes on to explain that the Thessalians killed him. This refers to his death at the hands of Achilles, as per other sources. Achilles was from the kingdom of Phthia in ancient Thessaly.
Did an army from ancient Iran fight in the Trojan War?
Could Memnon have been a historical king or prince of Elam in ancient Iran? Some scholars have speculated that he might be identical to Humban-Numena I, the king of Elam in the Bronze Age. Furthermore, the latter half of his name is admittedly similar to ‘Memnon’.
However, he likely reigned in the first half of the 14th century BCE. Therefore, this king from ancient Iran lived too early to have fought in the Trojan War.
Two other possibilities are Humban-Numena II, possibly in the 11th century BCE, and Humban-Numena III, who lived at the end of the eighth century BCE. The latter’s name is often written in modern sources as “Humban-menanu.” The similarity to “Memnon,” while not exact, is there.
This latter candidate, although living much later than the traditional date of the Trojan War, is particularly noteworthy given Ctesias’ chronological information. He places Memnon’s activities at the height of the Assyrian Empire.
Another candidate from approximately the same time is a prominent Elamite known only as Menanu, referenced in a letter from Ashurbanipal, the king of Assyria. The letter makes it clear that Menanu is a supporter of Assyria. This fits what Ctesias tells us about Memnon.
However, this does not necessarily mean that an army marched from ancient Iran to fight in the Trojan War. In part, this depends on when the Trojan War occurred, a continued historical debate.
Nevertheless, the legend itself is clear. Memnon led an army from ancient Iran to Troy, where they fought in the Trojan War against the Greeks.
The 37-year old Palestinian was arrested in Agios Nikolaos, Crete. File photo. Credit: AMNA
Greek authorities arrested a 37-year-old Palestinian man in Agios Nikolaos, Crete, on Saturday, preventing an alleged plot to detonate explosives on a cruise ship carrying Israeli tourists. The suspect is accused of being an operative for Hamas. He was apprehended in a highly classified joint operation by Greece’s National Intelligence Service (EYP) and the Anti-Terrorist Unit.
Intelligence officials moved quickly to detain the man just days before the targeted cruise ship was scheduled to dock in Crete on Tuesday. While the suspect reportedly claimed during interrogation that he had planned an attack but ultimately backed out, Greek authorities remain unconvinced and are treating the threat as exceptionally serious.
The connection of the Hamas associate in Greece to Cyprus
The success of the Greek investigation originated from a coordinated intelligence effort with Cyprus. Approximately two weeks ago, Cypriot authorities arrested four individuals suspected of planning strikes against Israeli interests in the European Union, allegedly motivated by the ongoing conflict in Gaza.
During the investigation in Cyprus, intelligence officers analyzed mobile phones belonging to the suspects. A specific phone number surfaced as a critical link, leading Greek counter-terrorism units directly to the 37-year-old in Crete.
Security services in Greece noted that the suspects in both countries received specialized training at a camp outside the Gaza Strip. This training specifically focused on manufacturing improvised explosives using chemical substances. Officials in Nicosia consider the group found in Cyprus deeply concerning, noting that two of the arrested individuals had lived in Cyprus for years and had reportedly even managed to obtain Cypriot citizenship. One of the suspects in Cyprus has already admitted to planning attacks against Israeli targets.
The suspect in Crete
The man arrested in Crete arrived in Greece approximately one year ago and filed an active asylum application. He integrated quietly into the local workforce, taking a seasonal job at a hotel in Agios Nikolaos. Local reports indicate he had no family on the island and intentionally maintained a low profile to avoid arousing suspicion.
Following his arrest on Saturday afternoon, Greek counter-terrorism officers raided his current residence in Crete, alongside a property he previously occupied in the Patissia neighborhood of Athens. Investigators confiscated several items that could be used as evidence against his plot. Among them, Greece’s anti-terrorism unit found chemical substances and laboratory measuring equipment, a number of mobile phones, laptops, and USB data storage drives, as well as bank cards and financial documents.
Law enforcement did not find assembled explosive devices or firearms during the raids. Intelligence assessments indicate the suspect was in the final stages of preparation for the plot but was intercepted before he could formally order the final explosive components.
The 37-year-old remains in custody and is scheduled to appear before a public prosecutor. Greece’s EYP and the Anti-Terrorist Unit are actively tracing his movements, communications, and potential local contacts to verify whether he operated alone within Greece.
La scelta di Amadeus la conoscono tutti: lasciare la Rai per approdare a Warner Bros Discovery e misurarsi con una nuova sfida professionale. Un percorso che, almeno sul fronte degli ascolti, finora non ha prodotto i risultati sperati. Chissà com’era il clima tra i dirigenti Rai e Amadeus quando quest’ultimo ha deciso di andarsene. In ogni caso, le parole dell’ad Rai sembrano allontanare l’ipotesi di un ritorno a breve: “Abbiamo investito su Affari tuoie sul prossimo Sanremo puntando su Stefano De Martino, che giudico una grande risorsa artistica per il nostro futuro”.
Cambio di argomento, che ne pensa di TeleMeloni? “È il grande dibattito della tv italiana oggi ma in realtà non ha ragione d’essere, è solo marketing. La Rai non può essere ridotta alla polemica giornalistica, ma è un’industria complessa che fa informazione e cultura tenendo in piedi il cinema e la fiction. Senza la Rai saremmo invasi dalle produzioni dei grandi player globali“. E ancora: “Il ruolo del servizio pubblico è molto più complicato di una semplice battuta. Sono in Rai da vent’ anni e conosco la complessità di un’azienda, patrimonio nazionale, capace di investire un miliardo di euro nei diritti sportivi negli ultimi anni per consentire la trasmissione free. Fa fatica perché il mercato è crudele e andrebbe tutelata di più! Non si sta ritirando, si sta trasformando. Se abbiamo portato il bilancio in attivo, ci siamo riusciti non con i tagli, ma attraverso un processo di riorganizzazione della produzione e dei modelli lavorativi: incentivazione degli esodi e acquisizione di forza lavoro più giovane, dal costo più basso”.
Plutarch’s Ship of Theseus paradox questions if identity remains when all parts change, challenging what it means to be the same over time. Credit: Greek Reporter archive
Have you ever wondered if your favourite old jumper, battered by time and use, is still truly the same as the one you fell in love with at the shop many years ago? That seemingly silly question is one of philosophy’s oldest and most fascinating puzzles, known as the Ship of Theseus.
The Ship of Theseus is an ancient brain-teaser
Plutarch, the ancient Greek writer and historian, presented us with a real head-scratcher with his tale of Theseus’ trireme.
Picture this: the Athenians, immensely proud of the ship that carried their hero Theseus to victory over the Minotaur, kept it docked for centuries. But as we all know, wood doesn’t last forever, as it can start to rot very quickly. So, whenever a plank rotted away or timber decayed significantly, the smart Athenians would meticulously replace it with a new one. Bit by bit, year after year, every single original piece of that ship was swapped out and replaced with brand-new wood.
Now, here’s the one-million-drachma question: was this still the Ship of Theseus? Or had it, piece by piece, become an entirely different vessel that had nothing to do with Theseus’ heroic journey? This was a profound thought experiment that kept brilliant minds confounded for millennia. It makes us wonder about identity and what makes something… something. Is it about what an object or a human is made of? Does it have to do with their materials? Their shape, maybe? What about their personal story? Or could it be something else entirely? This simple story by Plutarch prompts us to delve into what we mean when we say something is “the same.”
The Ship of Theseus, an illustration representing the famous thought experiment on identity and change. Credit: Yosemite Belbury, Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.
The Ship of Theseus and the idea of change
The brilliance of the Ship of Theseus story lies in its elegant illustration of the uncomfortable truth that everyone and everything, eventually, changes. Consider yourself as an example. Most of the cells in your body are replaced every few years. Are you, reading this right now, the same person you were a decade ago, even though practically all the biological components that constitute the physical you are new?
This is why the Ship of Theseus is a perfect example of this constant flow of renewal. It shows the tension between how we perceive something as permanent and its ever-changing physical reality.
And right when you think you understood the whole story, here comes a twist, often credited to Thomas Hobbes, the English philosopher.
This twist is asking us what if, hypothetically, all those old, discarded planks from Theseus’ ship were gathered up and used to build a second ship? Which one, then, is the “true” Ship of Theseus? The one that has been continuously in the harbour, even with all new parts? Or the one made of all the original pieces, just reassembled to create a brand new ship? You can almost hear the ancient Athenians debating this topic, wondering which ship deserved the glory of their hero.
Does something remain the same if every part has changed? Credit: Markus Winkler, Pexels.
The modern implications
The deep implications of the Ship of Theseus go beyond the confines of ancient Greek mythology. They truly resonate in our modern world, where things are constantly being upgraded, recycled, and reinvented only to be presented as something brand new. Take your mobile phone, for example. With every software update, every component replaced, is it still the “same” phone you bought two years ago? What about a classic car that has been restored and fixed with love, often with hardly any original parts left? Is it still that iconic model, or a new creation in an old shell?
This paradox even touches on larger ideas, such as national identity. Countries evolve, populations shift, and cultures adapt. Are we, as a nation, the “same” as our ancestors from centuries past? Is the US truly a nation or just a creation of many smaller parts of people who came from distant lands to find a better future?
Is modern Greece truly the grandchild of ancient Greece? What about the Roman identity that became synonymous with the Greeks for more than a thousand years? The word ‘Romios,’ which is Greek for Roman, still defines the notion of Greekness. Thus, are Greeks a continuation of the ancient identity, or are they something new, composed of thousands of different ethnic and cultural components that migrated to their lands over time? We share history, language, and heritage, of course, but the actual people, the “material” of the nation, have changed countless times.
The Ship of Theseus tells us that identity–whether it’s ours, our nation’s, or even a beloved object’s is a fluid and ever-changing concept, rarely as straightforward as it seems.
In ancient Athens, there was a custom of sacrificing an ox in the Sanctuary of Zeus Polieus. Credit: Capillon, Public Domain
In ancient Greece, the killing of an ox was prohibited by law due to its vital role in daily life. However, a peculiar and ‘unlawful’ custom saw priests performing the sacrifice of an ox at the Sanctuary of Zeus, the king of the gods, located on the hill of the Acropolis, just a few meters from the Parthenon.
The Diipoleia, also known as Buphonia, was an ancient festival of the Athenians held towards the end of every June. It was also celebrated separately in other Greek cities during antiquity.
The Buphonia ritual and its origin
According to tradition, to justify the sacrifice, a group of oxen was led to the temple. There, the priest would place a type of bread offering made of wheat and barley on the altar. The first ox to eat from this area would be considered to have committed blasphemy, as it was believed to have consumed the offering meant for the god, and therefore had to be killed.
The priest chosen to perform the killing did so in isolation, without any witnesses present, and would then flee the city.
However, since ox sacrifices were forbidden at the time, an “investigation” was launched to identify the culprit. When the rest of the priests gathered to determine who had performed the sacrifice, the guilty priest was missing. In the end, the only evidence left would be the axe used for the killing, which would eventually be thrown into the sea.
How the ritual was performed
Ancient Greek geographer and traveler, Pausanias, provides further details in his account:
“There is a statue of Zeus—one by Leochares and another called Polieus. Concerning the established practices for the sacrifice and the reason said to justify them, I will not record them here.
For Zeus Polieus, they would place barley mixed with wheat on the altar without any kind of guard. The ox, which they have prepared for the sacrifice and kept under watch, approaches the altar and begins eating the grain. A member of the Thalonid family sacrifices the animal that eats from the sacred offerings with a double-headed axe.
They then summon a priest, called the ‘ox-slayer’ (buphonos), who kills the ox and, in accordance with the law, throws away the axe and flees. Since the identity of the person who committed the act remains unknown, they bring the axe to trial instead. Afterwards, they enter the temple that they call the Parthenon.”
The Buphonos and the trial of the axe
It was believed that the ancestor of the Thalonids, Thalon, was the first to strike the ox. Neoplatonic philosopher Porphyry, attributes the first buphonia to a foreigner named Sopater. He also provides a shorter version of the story, in which the priest of Zeus, Diomos, “murdered” the animal.The others then cut up the sacrificial victim and ate it.
Afterwards, they would hold a trial to determine the guilty party responsible for the killing. The buphonos (ox-slayer) did not appear, while those who participated in the sacrifice accused one another. They shifted responsibility for the killing from one man to the other.
The participants included the water carriers who brought water for the sacrificial tools, those who sharpened the knife and axe, as well as individuals responsible for carrying the tools.
Ultimately, they would accuse the knife, condemn it, and toss it into the sea. The ox’s hide was stuffed with straw and yoked to a plow. They did this to create the illusion that the animal was still alive.
The entire ritual permeated participants with intense feelings of guilt over the slaughter of the animal, and it was regarded as an act of murder.
The entire ritual permeated participants with intense feelings of guilt over the slaughter of the animal. Credit: Wikimedia commons, Public Domain
Rituals, beliefs, and symbolism
It is noteworthy that, according to Porphyry, after the buphonos Sopater fled to Crete and before the establishment of the festival in Athens, a plague struck the city. The plague only ceased after Sopater’s return and the institution of the festival.
Additionally, as part of the measures to address the plague, the Oracle of Delphi deemed the establishment of the ritual involving the stuffing of the animal’s hide as necessary.
To avoid the pollution (miasma) of the murder, they made efforts to eliminate the act of murder itself. When this was not sufficient, they attempted to justify the act, for example, by claiming that the defilement resulted from impiety.
Finally, they shifted human responsibility by attributing the miasma to an inanimate tool, which became the scapegoat of the entire ritual. This object absorbed the miasma and was then removed from the city.
The ox, which they have prepared for the sacrifice and kept under watch, approaches the altar and begins consuming the grain. A member of the Thalonid family sacrifices the animal that is fed from the sacred offerings with a double-headed axe. Credit: Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain
Spiritual significance and agricultural connections
According to ancient Greek philosopher Theophrastus, the remains of the ox were buried. Presumably, this was so as to prevent its spirit from seeking revenge on the city. It is important to note that, in this ritual, the value attributed to the spirit of the animal is equivalent to that given to a human.
British classical scholar and linguist Jane Harrison, connects the use of offerings to attract the animal to the altar with the rites of Dionysus Zagreus and Isodaites. Furthermore, the yoking of the stuffed hide of the ox to the plow associates the festival with fertility rituals, which pertain to chthonic deities.
This ritual of purification and averting evil was initially connected to the need to ensure an abundance of game in a pre-agricultural society. Later on, an agricultural society adopted it, shifting the focus to the fertility of the land.
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