When the world’s leading Egyptologist calls a global press conference, jaws tend to drop—even in lands long familiar with mummies and mysteries. On June 27, 2007, Zahi Hawass stood before the world’s cameras, ready to unveil not just any find, but what he claimed was the mummy of Hatshepsut herself: Egypt’s legendary queen-pharaoh whose lost remains had kept Egyptology on tenterhooks for decades. To say the room was stunned might just be the understatement of the last 3,500 years.
A Mystery in the Valley of the Kings
The trail of this royal riddle actually begins much earlier than Hawass’s revelation—in the golden age of discovery. Flash back to 1903: archaeology’s darling, Howard Carter, makes a peculiar find directly opposite Hatshepsut’s majestic tomb. He enters a modest, undecorated chamber—just 40 square meters—labeled KV60. Inside? Two female mummies. One rests quietly in a coffin: Satrê, who once nursed Hatshepsut. The other? Anonymous, anonymous but not uninterested, lying on the floor with one arm crossed over her chest—an attitude unmistakably regal, typical of pharaohs.
Carter, making a decision that would tickle future Egyptologists, sends Satrê to Cairo. The pharaoh-like lady? Left behind, alone and unsung in the Valley of the Kings, for over a century. It isn’t until 2007—coincidence or destiny?—that she’s finally transferred to the Egyptian Museum for a medical check-up of truly epic proportions.
The Shocking Scientific Sleuthing
No sooner does the newly arrived mummy appear in the museum than she’s put through a battery of tests. Here’s where detective work straight out of a pulp serial kicks in: a small box, previously discovered in the cache of royal mummies at Deir el-Bahari and bearing Hatshepsut’s own name, is fetched. Inside: a liver and, crucially, a molar.
Enter Professor Gabal el-Beheri, orthodontic wizard from Cairo’s faculty of dentistry. The challenge: does this wayward tooth belong to our mysterious mummy? The answer—drumroll, please—is a neat click; the molar fits perfectly. Suddenly, the scale tips: could this really be the famous ruler who built one of Egypt’s most breathtaking monuments?
The sleuthing doesn’t end with dentistry. DNA analysis is ordered. The aim: to match the mummy’s genetic material to that of Hatshepsut’s grandmother, Queen Ahmès-Nefertary. The verdict arrives: it’s a positive match! The case, it seems, is all but closed—or is it?
Debate, Skepticism, and Ancient Rays
Not everyone is ready to join the victory parade. Luc Gabolde, a veteran Egyptologist, throws a scholarly spanner in the works, cautioning that all those enthusiastic X-rays blasted at mummies back in the 1980s rendered their DNA unreliable—distorting the genetic chains beyond scientific trust. So, in true Egyptological fashion, doubt and debate march alongside revelation, each refusing to quit the field.
The Woman Behind the Bandages
Assuming the mummy is indeed Hatshepsut (safe bet or not, depending on one’s taste for drama), what does science tell us about the queen’s final days?
- The woman died around age 50.
- She was, shall we say, comfortably corpulent—rolls on belly and cheeks betray an enjoyment of life’s sweeter side.
- She had a notorious sweet tooth (quite literally); rotten dental health matches her known fondness for honey, a sugary luxury of Egypt’s elite.
- The diagnosis includes diabetes, clearly marked by her physical remains.
- She suffered severe psoriasis and tried to treat it with a balm stashed in her own tomb. The ingredients? A cocktail of creosote (a toxic substance from coal tar), animal fat, oily plants, and a carcinogen—benzopyrene, revealed in the resin used to merge the mix.
While the balm may have soothed her skin, it came at a dire cost: that carcinogenic ingredient, applied daily, likely contributed to her death. Talk about your beauty routines turning deadly!
The last word? Whether you side with the believers or the doubters, the quest for Hatshepsut’s mummy has changed how we look at forensic science, ancient medicine, and royal intrigue. The next time someone asks you if science and history can bring the past back to life, remind them: sometimes, it’s a single tooth that unlocks a world of secrets—and a little skepticism that keeps the true adventure alive.
