Vast fragmentary figures retrieved from the Mediterranean seabed reveal the richness of a nearly-forgotten city of the ancient world

By SCOTT MACLEOD /ALEXANDRIA

he moment of discovery was no less magical than the day in 1922 when British archaeologist Howard Carter dug through a desert wall in Luxor and found the treasure of Tutankhamen. This time, though, the site was not in the dry Saharan sand, but beneath the deep blue sea, a few hundred meters off the Mediterranean coast of Egypt. In 1994, a team of explorers scuba diving under the direction of a Frenchman, Jean-Yves Empereur, came upon a rose-colored hulk of granite. Upon closer inspection, they identified a smooth torso, massive thighs and the ribbed vestments of what appeared to be an Egyptian king. A majestic head, which had broken off, lay on the seafloor amid the sand and weed a few meters away, along with the pharaoh's double crown.

Following ancient texts and underwater surveys carried out in the 1960s, Empereur knew that he was excavating in archaeologically rich waters covering the northern edge of ancient Alexandria. But his discovery was no less stunning. The 23-tonne statue, more than 7 m high, hewn in the image of the pharaohs who had governed Egypt centuries earlier, was of Ptolemy II Philadelphus, a Greek colonizer who ruled Egypt from 285 to 246 B.C. Empereur and other experts believe that the Ptolemaic colossus once stood at the base of the Pharos, Alexandria's magnificent lighthouse, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

Ancient Alexandria, founded in 332 B.C. by Alexander the Great, was once the center of the Hellenistic Empire spanning Europe and Asia. It later ranked second in importance only to Imperial Rome, serving as the stage for Cleopatra's ill-fated love affairs with Caesar and Mark Antony. But evidence of seven centuries of Greek and Roman occupation came almost exclusively from classical historians, notably Herodotus, Strabo and Plutarch. In the 19th century, before the science of archaeology became well developed, the Ottomans laid out the brick and concrete city that stands today: beneath a sprawling plan of office buildings, houses, roads and railways, ancient Alexandria was buried forever.

Or so it seemed until now. Encouraged by new technology, a rash of demolition that makes ground available for digging, and unparalleled cooperation from Egyptian antiquities officials, archaeologists are sifting for traces of ancient Alexandria more extensively and systematically than ever before. Teams from five countries are involved in the work, but to date none has produced more impressive results than the Center for Alexandrian Studies, a group of archaeologists, architects, geologists and anthropologists formed by Empereur in 1990. "We have so many gaps in the history of Alexandria," says Gaballa Gaballa, the Egyptian government's antiquities chief. "We are starting to fill them in."

And now the colossus of Ptolemy II, along with other underwater finds including a bust of a Ptolemaic queen represented as Isis and an obelisk from the time of Seti I, King of Egypt's 19th Dynasty, can be seen through July in "La Gloire d'Alexandrie" at the Petit Palais in Paris. The show, bringing together more than 200 pieces from museums throughout the world, is the first major exhibition of Hellenistic Alexandria ever mounted outside Egypt. "Alexandria was a beacon of Western civilization," says Empereur. "But, unlike Rome or Athens, it has been forgotten."

In 1994, Empereur, a pioneer of seabed archaeology along Egypt's coastline, began mapping a rich underwater archaeological site in Alexandria's eastern harbor, near the known location of the Pharos, which military authorities had restricted for years on national security grounds. To date, he and his researchers have identified more than 3,000 fragments, many of which Empereur believes are blocks from the lighthouse, which was destroyed in an earthquake in 1341. Confirming a Hellenistic fascination with Egypt, three colossal Ptolemaic couples in Pharaonic poses have been located in the eerie 7-m depths, along with more than 28 sphinxes and several obelisks--ancient Pharaonic works removed by the Ptolemies from Heliopolis, seat of the Pharaonic-era sun god Re in Lower Egypt, to decorate their capital.

Archaeologists believe that the monuments were submerged when the coastline subsided. Empereur has brought up 36 pieces and put them through a costly desalination process, but he would like to leave the others where they are lying and create an underwater archaeological park for diving enthusiasts. However, the current excavations will continue for many more years.

Empereur's work on land has been no less remarkable. Thanks to the upturn in Egypt's economy in the 1990s, developers are tearing down scores of old buildings in Alexandria and putting up new office blocks and residential high-rises in their place. Amid the construction boom, antiquities officials have been granting permission for archaeologists to carry out what Empereur calls emergency salvage operations. At a depth of no more than 10 m, he says, "you find more than 2,300 years of history. We follow the strata downwards, from modern Alexandria to the Ottoman period, the Mamluks, the Fatimids, Byzantines, Romans and finally the Greeks."

For the archaeologists, working conditions at the site are far from ideal. But at least they provide a glimpse into the past, often with wonderful results. One of the most beautiful art treasures ever exhumed in Alexandria is a mosaic of Medusa, dating from the 2nd century A.D., which Empereur's team discovered in 1994 after developers had torn down the historic 1930s Diana theater in downtown Alexandria.

Nowhere is the struggle to rescue Alexandria's past from its present better illustrated than in Empereur's dig in the city's Gabbari district. Last year, the Egyptian government's roadworks department was nearly finished building a vital new highway, designed to carry 80% of Egyptian exports to Alexandria's port. But with only 500 m to go, the antiquities department obtained an order halting the construction and enabling Empereur to uncover Alexandria's ancient burial ground. This major find, in turn, has set off a fierce bureaucratic battle that remains unresolved: it could cost as much as $300 million to build a suspension bridge to save the necropolis--100 times the cost of simply paving over the site as was originally intended.

To some, the construction hold-up seems a small price to pay for a better understanding of this important lost city of the ancient world. And many modern Alexandrians, bruised by the greater attention given to Pharaonic and Islamic Egypt, are delighted to see their city receive its due at long last. "We are recovering Alexandria from beneath the water and the earth," says Ahmed Abdel Fattah, director of the city's Greco-Roman Museum. "It has been buried long enough."