The Judgment of Cambyses

Preface.

On September 10, 2016, Colonel Zakharchenko, head of the anti-corruption department in the financial and banking service of Russia's Ministry of Internal Affairs, faced some heavy charges. The Russian Federal Security Service accused him of bribery, abuse of power, and obstruction of justice.
As investigators dug deeper into the Zakharchenko case, they uncovered some astonishing details. The Colonel had amassed 13 luxurious condos with breathtaking views of the Kremlin, 14 extravagant villas in Moscow's upscale neighborhoods, four sleek luxury cars, and an eye-popping $130 million in cash. The cash, consisting of euros, dollars, and rubles, was so plentiful it weighed in at an incredible two metric tons, filling two cargo pallets and spilling across the floor of one of his apartments. The sheer scale of his ill-gotten wealth was mind-boggling.

A Journey Through Art
Paris, May 2016

In late May, I wandered through the majestic halls of the Louvre, surrounded by the awe-inspiring works of 16th and 17th-century Renaissance masters. My mission? To reconnect with the captivating paintings of my favorite Flemish artists. It had been a year since I'd last seen them, and I was certain they were nearby. But as time passed, my frustration grew. Unable to contain it any longer, I approached the curator of the Flemish painters' hall and blurted out in my halting French, "I can't find Jan van Eyck's 'Madonna of Chancellor Rolin'!"
"I've been here before," I continued, "and I'm sure it's supposed to be here among the other early Renaissance masters, but it's nowhere to be found."
The tall, slender woman, probably in her mid-forties, looked at me with curiosity. She stood up and replied in English, "That's strange. Out of the thousands of paintings by renowned masters in this museum, you're fixated on this particular Jan van Eyck piece. Why him?"
"Well, van Eyck painted it seventy years before Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa. He was ahead of the Italians by a century, especially in the intricate details of his backgrounds."
"Are you Russian?" the curator asked, catching me off guard.
"And you?" I replied. We both laughed, not surprised to find two compatriots discussing high art in Paris.
Later, I learned that my conversation partner held a PhD in Art History. She had left her position at the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg to work at the Louvre. Her strong reaction to my inquiry about 'Madonna of Chancellor Rolin' made sense—it was the subject of her doctoral thesis.
Although I couldn't see the painting since the hall was closed for restoration, our conversation sparked a desire to visit Bruges, the historic Belgian city where Jan van Eyck had lived and worked.

Bruges, September 2016

Immersed in the works of my favorite artist and his Flemish peers, Hans Memling and Jan Provost, I encountered a diptych titled "The Judgment of Cambyses" by Gerard David. The city elders of Bruges had commissioned this piece to illustrate the tale of King Cambyses judging a corrupt official, as told by Herodotus in the fifth century BC, but with medieval attire.
According to Herodotus' "Histories," King Cambyses accused the judge Sisamnes of bribery and ordered him to be skinned alive. His skin was then tanned, cut into strips, and used to upholster the chair where his son, appointed as the new judge, would sit. "Remember how your benefactor met his end," Cambyses warned the young judge.
Gerard David's masterpiece, completed in 1498, was displayed in the town hall's court room for three centuries, serving as a grim reminder of justice to judges and citizens alike. The chilling images conveyed a powerful message: punishment was inevitable and mercy was a rarity.

Afterword

As I stood before "The Judgment of Cambyses," news broke about the millions discovered in the possession of the "humble" anti-corruption officer, Colonel Zakharchenko. Staring at the painting's intricate details, I wondered if Zakharchenko and others like him realized their corrupt actions would lead to their downfall. Would they still accept those staggering bribes if they knew they'd face a fate as gruesome as the skinned judge?
The contrast struck me hard. The 2016 budget for Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick, was less than the fortune amassed by this corrupt Russian officer in just one of his condos. It was a stark reminder of the extreme disparities in wealth and the inevitable consequences of abusing power for personal gain.