Under the auspices of birds

There is no bigger backing for the claim that birds are Mighty and Majestic (yes, capital M&Ms), than the fact that us humans, to this day, call upon them prior to any major undertaking. “Eh?” you ask? Allow me to elaborate.

Classical Roman society had certain priests who had pretty important roles. So important, in fact, that no major project, public or private, would commence without the involvement of these priests—even war and religion! They were responsible for interpreting the will of the gods, by studying the flight of birds. Different patterns they observed were interpreted as various omens and signs from the heavens.

These notable priests were initially known as auspices (singular: auspex [“bird watcher”]), but this term later fell into disuse, and they came to be known as augurs (singular: augur [aug-: “to increase; to prosper”]). Only the meritorious were bestowed the office and title of augur. At the same time, its political significance meant high competition among potential candidates. Once attained, it was held for life. (For further details regarding this avian divination, do visit the Wikipedia and Britannica pages.)

As with all things Roman, the Greeks had an equivalent: ornithomancy (ornis: “bird”; manteia: “divination”). But that is besidesbeside the point.

The present-day word “inaugurate” is derived from the Latin verb inaugurare (“to take omens from birds in flight”). This constant paranoia and uncertainty that plagued the poor Romans into dependence on favourable readings of omens eventually led to the birth of the phrase “under the auspices”.

However, this divine status was not endowed on any and all birds. The cool gang had a name: aves augurales; only members like ravens, woodpeckers, owls, vultures and eagles enjoyed the special privileges. The Romans believed in signs from only these birds, and their interpretations would vary depending on the species.

As icing on the auspice-cake, one can find a raptor mainly along the East African Rift (an active continental rift zone in East Africa) and also in some parts of the west coast like Namibia and Angola, honourably named Augur Buzzard (Buteo augur). (A similar species is seen in northwestern Africa: the Red-necked Buzzard Buteo auguralis.)

Even being completely oblivious to these divine and Roman connections, one still feels a certain power in the name, a sort of regal majesty. Couple that with the wonderful safari guide’s familiar African accent which brings back so many memories and the flair with which he calls out the name at first glance while manoeuvering the mighty Land Cruiser through Serengeti’s dust tracks, and the outcome is pure reverence.