
Reader Alistair reached out asking about the alleged origins of C-sections: “Did Julius Caesar really come into the world this way, and is that where the procedure's name came from?”
The tale that C-sections—whether in practice or name, depending on who you ask—trace back to the birth of everyone’s favorite Roman Consul has circulated for a long time and is frequently repeated. The 10th-century Byzantine-Greek historical encyclopedia The Suda states, “For when his mother died in the ninth month, they cut her open and took him out…” Even the Oxford English Dictionary lists this story as the origin of the term. However, almost every other historical and etymological source counters with “probably not.”
To begin with, Gaius Julius Caesar (let's shorten it to GJC) wasn’t the first person born via C-section. This procedure, or something akin to it, appears in the history and mythology of many cultures—ranging from Europe to the Far East—long before his time. He wasn’t even the first Roman born through this method. By the time GJC was born, C-sections were already being performed in Rome, and Roman law reserved the procedure for women who had passed away during childbirth (so the woman and her baby could be buried separately) or as a last resort to save the baby’s life in cases of complicated deliveries.
No Roman or classical source records a mother surviving a Caesarean section among those still alive. The first known mother to survive the procedure was from 16th century Switzerland (her husband, a professional pig castrator, performed the surgery), and before that, the mortality rate was presumed to be 100 percent. This creates a problem because GJC’s mother, Aurelia Cotta, is known to have lived long enough to see her son reach adulthood and serve him as a political advisor, despite what The Suda suggests. Some sources even claim she outlived him. If little GJC really was born via C-section, Aurelia must have been exceptionally lucky to not only survive the procedure but also to avoid any record of it for history’s sake.
Does the term C-section at least come from GJC? Once again, probably not. While The Suda incorrectly has Aurelia Cotta dying in childbirth, it does hint at a possible origin for the term “Caesarean section.” The rest of the passage reads, “…and named him thus; for in the Roman tongue dissection is called ‘Caesar.’” It’s not entirely accurate, but it’s on the right track. In Latin, caedo means “to cut,” so both the name Caesar and the procedure might derive from a variation of the word (such as caesus, the past participle). The Roman author Pliny the Elder notes this origin for both Caesar and Caesones, a branch of the Fabian family.
If “Caesarean section” comes from a term for cutting, and GJC wasn’t born that way, how are the two connected? This likely arises from confusion over Pliny’s writings. Pliny refers to a Caesar being born via C-section, but not GJC. Pliny was talking about one of GJC’s distant ancestors, stating that he was the first to bear the name Caesar* (the exact identity of this person remains unclear), and that he “was so named from having been removed by an incision from his mother’s womb.”
But wait, there’s more! The name Caesar may not have originated from the method of birth at all. The Historia Augusta, a collection of biographies of Roman emperors, offers several other theories for the origin of the name:
“…the first person to receive the name Caesar was called by this name either because he slew an elephant in battle, which in the Moorish tongue is called caesai, or because he was born after his mother’s death through an incision in her abdomen, or because he had a thick head of hair [caesaries is a Latin term for hair] when he was born, or finally because he had bright grey eyes [caesiis is Latin for ‘blind,’ and ‘grey eyes’ may refer to glaucoma]…”
If the first Caesar was named after an elephant, his hair, or his eyes, the C-section might still derive its name from the Latin caedo, or possibly even from the man himself. In that case, the story that prompted this entire discussion would be somewhat closer to the truth, though it would still be mixing up its Caesars.
