The Library of Alexandria: What Really Happened?

Gabrielle Birchak/ September 30, 2026/ Ancient History, Classical Antiquity/ 0 comments

What if I told you the Library of Alexan­dria was not destroyed? Not exactly.

We all know the sto­ry. Julius Cae­sar arrives in Alexan­dria, a fire breaks out, and the great­est library in the ancient world goes up in flames, tak­ing hun­dreds of thou­sands of books with it.

Except there are sev­er­al prob­lems: the library sur­vived Cae­sar. And it sur­vived for cen­turies after him. And by the time it final­ly dis­ap­peared, there may not have been one library left to destroy.

So, what real­ly hap­pened to the Library of Alexandria?

When it comes to his­to­ry, there are a lot of sto­ries that we hear so often that even­tu­al­ly we stop ques­tion­ing them. Unless you are an his­to­ri­an. How­ev­er, some­times those sto­ries are repeat­ed as fact in books, web­sites, doc­u­men­taries, and so-called experts. And some­times, when you start dig­ging into the cita­tions, you dis­cov­er some­thing inter­est­ing. One source cites anoth­er source, which cites anoth­er source, which cites anoth­er source. Even­tu­al­ly, you arrive at a claim that seems to be every­where. Still, you can­not find a sol­id orig­i­nal source for it. His­to­ry is full of these kinds of mis­con­cep­tions, which, in my opin­ion, is what makes the study of his­to­ry the ulti­mate detec­tive game!

But the Library of Alexan­dria shows some­thing impor­tant about his­to­ry: the sto­ry we inher­it isn’t always the sto­ry the evi­dence supports.

The Library of Alexan­dria is one of the most famous his­tor­i­cal sto­ries in the ancient world. For me, I’ve been mes­mer­ized by this sto­ry ever since I was in about third grade, when I saw an artist’s ver­sion of the Library of Alexan­dria on my View-Mas­ter that fea­tured the Sev­en Won­ders of the World as they were in 1974.

I digress.

So, you’ve prob­a­bly heard the sto­ry. Alexan­dria had the great­est library in the ancient world. It con­tained hun­dreds of thou­sands of scrolls, per­haps even every impor­tant work that exist­ed. Then, in 48 BCE, dur­ing a civ­il war with Ptole­my XIII, Cae­sar start­ed a fire at the docks that spread to the library. The sto­ry goes that the Library of Alexan­dria burned. Still, it is not quite that simple.

By Ángel M. Felicísi­mo from Méri­da, España — Retra­to de Julio César, Pub­lic Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=91281949

You see, Cae­sar was a man of pro­pa­gan­da and sto­ries, which may explain why accounts of this great fire differ.

But before I go into that, let’s go back to the beginning.

Alexan­der the Great found­ed Alexan­dria in 331 BCE. Under the Ptole­ma­ic dynasty, it became Egypt’s cap­i­tal and a major intel­lec­tu­al cen­ter of the ancient Mediterranean.

The library emerged in the third cen­tu­ry BCE as part of the Ptolemies’ larg­er effort to make Alexan­dria a cen­ter of schol­ar­ship. And this is where we need to make our first dis­tinc­tion. The library was not sim­ply a build­ing full of books. It was asso­ci­at­ed with the Mou­seion, which today we might call the Muse­um; how­ev­er, it was more like a larg­er insti­tu­tion ded­i­cat­ed to the Muses.

The Mou­seion was a schol­ar­ly com­mu­ni­ty sup­port­ed by the roy­al court. Stra­bo, who vis­it­ed Alexan­dria in the late first cen­tu­ry BCE, describes the Mou­seion as part of the roy­al palace com­plex and men­tions its cov­ered walk­way, com­mu­nal din­ing arrange­ments, and schol­ar­ly com­mu­ni­ty.[1] Rather than imag­in­ing the Mou­seion as an ancient ver­sion of your local pub­lic library, think of it more like a roy­al­ly sup­port­ed research insti­tu­tion with a major library attached to it.

Schol­ars came to Alexan­dria to study, write, teach, edit texts, and con­duct research. And the col­lec­tion was enor­mous. Or at least, ancient sources tell us that it was enor­mous. You’ve prob­a­bly heard num­bers like 500,000 scrolls. Some­times the num­ber is giv­en as 700,000. But we don’t have a sur­viv­ing cat­a­log that allows us to ver­i­fy exact­ly how large the library was. And there’s anoth­er problem.

A scroll is not nec­es­sar­i­ly the equiv­a­lent of one book. A sin­gle work could occu­py sev­er­al scrolls. Thus, when some­one tells you that the library con­tained exact­ly 500,000 books, that is much more pre­cise than our evi­dence allows.[2] What we do know is that the Ptolemies had an enor­mous ambi­tion: to col­lect and pre­serve writ­ten knowl­edge. Ancient accounts describe an aggres­sive acqui­si­tion pro­gram. One famous sto­ry says that when ships arrived in Alexan­dria car­ry­ing books, guards took the texts, had them copied, and then returned the texts to the ship while keep­ing the orig­i­nals for the roy­al collection.

Whether every detail of that sto­ry should be tak­en lit­er­al­ly is anoth­er ques­tion. But the broad­er pic­ture is clear. Alexan­dria was delib­er­ate­ly built as a cen­ter of schol­ar­ship. And here’s anoth­er impor­tant mis­con­cep­tion. There wasn’t nec­es­sar­i­ly one giant build­ing con­tain­ing every scroll in Alexandria.

There were mul­ti­ple collections.

One was asso­ci­at­ed with the Roy­al Library and Mou­seion. Anoth­er impor­tant col­lec­tion was asso­ci­at­ed with the Ser­apeum, the enor­mous tem­ple com­plex ded­i­cat­ed to the god Ser­apis. The Ser­apeum was not the same insti­tu­tion as the Mou­seion. And its library was not sim­ply the orig­i­nal Library in anoth­er build­ing. It was a sep­a­rate col­lec­tion, tra­di­tion­al­ly described as a daugh­ter library.[3] That dis­tinc­tion becomes extreme­ly impor­tant when we talk about what hap­pened to Alexandria’s books. Because the Library did not sim­ply go from being per­fect to being destroyed.

Its intel­lec­tu­al world was already chang­ing. Polit­i­cal insta­bil­i­ty affect­ed Alexandria’s schol­ar­ly com­mu­ni­ty. Dur­ing the reign of Ptole­my VIII, intel­lec­tu­als were expelled from the city, includ­ing the librar­i­an Aristarchus of Samoth­race. That did not mean that schol­ar­ship in Alexan­dria sud­den­ly end­ed. But it demon­strates some­thing important.

The insti­tu­tions that sup­port­ed schol­ar­ship depend­ed on polit­i­cal cir­cum­stances. The library wasn’t an immor­tal insti­tu­tion float­ing above his­to­ry. It depend­ed on gov­ern­ments, mon­ey, schol­ars, build­ings, and polit­i­cal sta­bil­i­ty.[4]

And then Julius Cae­sar arrived.

In 48 BCE, Cae­sar pur­sued Pom­pey the Great, who had fled to Egypt. Pom­pey arrived in Alexan­dria before Cae­sar, but Ptole­my XIII, Cleopatra’s broth­er and polit­i­cal rival (and pos­si­ble hus­band), had Pom­pey assas­si­nat­ed. When Cae­sar arrived, he became involved in the con­flict between Cleopa­tra and Ptole­my. And this is where one of the most famous episodes in ancient his­to­ry begins.

By Nico­las Cous­tou — Marie-Lan Nguyen (2006), Pub­lic Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=895638

Then, in 48 BCE, Julius Cae­sar arrived in Alexan­dria. A ter­ri­ble bat­tle broke out. Caesar’s boat caught fire. And the Library of Alexan­dria burned – the end.

Except… it’s not quite that sim­ple. The Library of Alexan­dria did not have one dra­mat­ic death. Its sto­ry is much more com­pli­cat­ed, and, I think, much more interesting.

Dur­ing the fight­ing in Alexan­dria, Cae­sar ordered ships in the har­bor to be burned. The fire spread from the dock­yards. And books were destroyed. This part of the sto­ry is not a myth. The ancient his­to­ri­an Plutarch, writ­ing more than a cen­tu­ry after Caesar’s death, says that the fire spread from the dock­yards and destroyed the great Library.[5]

But Cas­sius Dio, anoth­er ancient his­to­ri­an, gives us a some­what dif­fer­ent descrip­tion. Dio states that the fire destroyed the docks and grain ware­hous­es and that many books were burned.[6] And this dis­tinc­tion mat­ters. Because there is a huge dif­fer­ence between saying:

“Caesar’s fire destroyed books.”

and say­ing:

“Cae­sar burned down the entire Library of Alexandria.”

The first state­ment, “Caesar’s fire destroyed books,” is sup­port­ed by the ancient evi­dence. The sec­ond claim of “Cae­sar burned down the entire Library of Alexan­dria” is much hard­er to establish.

In fact, Roger Bag­nall argues that the library’s dis­ap­pear­ance should not be under­stood as the result of a sin­gle cat­a­stroph­ic event. The fire of 48 BCE prob­a­bly destroyed many books, but evi­dence shows con­tin­ued library activ­i­ty in Alexan­dria after­ward.[7]

Did Caesar’s fire cause enor­mous damage?

Yes.

Did it destroy books?

Yes.

Did Cae­sar sin­gle-hand­ed­ly destroy the entire Library of Alexan­dria? The evi­dence doesn’t allow us to say that with con­fi­dence. And this is where the tra­di­tion­al sto­ry gets even more inter­est­ing: the library didn’t end with Caesar.

The library, or at least Alexandria’s schol­ar­ly insti­tu­tions and col­lec­tions, con­tin­ued. Over the fol­low­ing cen­turies, Alexan­dria expe­ri­enced polit­i­cal upheaval, changes in impe­r­i­al patron­age, vio­lence, and destruc­tion. Edward Watts’s research shows that Alexandria’s intel­lec­tu­al insti­tu­tions changed sig­nif­i­cant­ly dur­ing the Roman peri­od. The Roy­al Library and Mou­seion even­tu­al­ly dis­ap­pear from the his­tor­i­cal record, while the Ser­apeum and its library became increas­ing­ly impor­tant as a cen­ter of schol­ar­ship and as a repos­i­to­ry of lit­er­a­ture.[8]

In oth­er words, the sto­ry begins to look less like a sin­gle fire… and more like a long process.

A long while after Caesar’s death, his nephew, Augus­tus Cae­sar, rose to pow­er. By the time Augus­tus ruled Alexan­dria, and it fell under Roman province, the Tem­ple of Cae­sar became a pub­lic library. Alexan­dri­an cit­i­zens wit­nessed decay dur­ing the destruc­tion of the Kitos War in 117 CE, and peace fol­lowed for over 100 years.[9] [10]

By Edratzer at Eng­lish Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8360168

How­ev­er, in 272 CE, the attack of the Aure­lians destroyed much more of the muse­um. In 365 CE, an earth­quake in Crete caused a tsuna­mi in Alexan­dria. Efforts to pre­serve the library con­tin­ued as schol­ars and aca­d­e­mics moved as many scrolls as they could from the library to the Tem­ple of Ser­apis. How­ev­er, despite these efforts to pre­serve the great Library of Alexan­dria, along with its oth­er pub­lic libraries, intel­lec­tu­al­ism decayed.

Col­lec­tions could be moved. Insti­tu­tions could decline. Build­ings could be dam­aged. Schol­ars could leave. And books could be copied into oth­er col­lec­tions. Even­tu­al­ly, the orig­i­nal Roy­al Library and Mou­seion dis­ap­peared from the his­tor­i­cal record. But the sto­ry of Alexandria’s books continues.

By late antiq­ui­ty, the Ser­apeum had become one of Alexandria’s most impor­tant intel­lec­tu­al and cul­tur­al insti­tu­tions. When Chris­t­ian Patri­arch Theophilus took con­trol of Alexan­dria in 391 CE, he ordered the mil­i­tary and the peo­ple of Alexan­dria to destroy the Tem­ple of Ser­apis and con­vert it into a church. Evi­dence links the destruc­tion to the fate of the library asso­ci­at­ed with the tem­ple, though his­to­ri­ans still debate the collection’s pre­cise con­tents and con­di­tion at that moment.[11]

In 412 CE, Alexandria’s ruler, Chris­t­ian Patri­arch Cyril, ordered his peo­ple to con­vert the Tem­ple of Cae­sareum, which also housed a library, into his head­quar­ters. It was here in 415 CE, at the Tem­ple of Cae­sareum, that a Chris­t­ian mob vio­lent­ly mur­dered Hypa­tia, the University’s first female pro­fes­sor and female math­e­mati­cian. The tim­ing of her death is sig­nif­i­cant because, though many believe the library’s destruc­tion came around Hypatia’s death, the library had been under destruc­tive con­di­tions for 300 years prior.

Let’s con­sid­er that Hypa­tia was mur­dered in Alexan­dria in 415 CE and the Ser­apeum was destroyed in 391 CE, which was twen­ty-four years ear­li­er. Thus, the destruc­tion of the Ser­apeum and Hypatia’s mur­der are two sep­a­rate events. They hap­pened in the same city, dur­ing a peri­od of enor­mous social and reli­gious change, but they should not be col­lapsed into one event.

And this is par­tic­u­lar­ly impor­tant to me because of my own research into Hypa­tia and Alexan­dria. By the time Hypa­tia was liv­ing and teach­ing in Alexan­dria, the city was cen­turies removed from the Alexan­dria of Euclid, Eratos­thenes, and the ear­ly Ptolemies. The intel­lec­tu­al land­scape had changed. The polit­i­cal land­scape had changed. And the insti­tu­tions that had once sup­port­ed the great Ptole­ma­ic Library had changed, as well. So if some­one tells you that the Library of Alexan­dria was destroyed when Hypa­tia was mur­dered, the chronol­o­gy itself tells us that the sto­ry can­not be right.

And then there’s one final chap­ter in the library’s mythology.

You’ve prob­a­bly heard the sto­ry that after the Arab con­quest of Alexan­dria in the sev­enth cen­tu­ry, the caliph Umar ordered the remain­ing books of the library to be burned. Accord­ing to the sto­ry, there were so many books that they were used as fuel for the city’s bath­hous­es. It is an extra­or­di­nary story.

But it is also a very late sto­ry. The famous account appears cen­turies after the Arab con­quest, rather than in a con­tem­po­rary account of the con­quest itself.[12] And by the sev­enth cen­tu­ry, we have anoth­er prob­lem. If the great Ptole­ma­ic Library had already declined and dis­ap­peared cen­turies ear­li­er, what exact­ly would have been left for the con­querors to destroy? The evi­dence does not sup­port the dra­mat­ic sto­ry of an intact ancient Library sit­ting in Alexan­dria for cen­turies, wait­ing for some­one to burn it.

But that doesn’t mean the sto­ry of Alexandria’s books sim­ply ends.

By Unknown author — Scanned image from a book enti­tled Kitāb khizā­nat al-ayyām fī tarājim al-ʻiẓām, first pub­lished in New york in 1899. Check AUB Records, Pub­lic Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=76821279

And this is where the sto­ry of Alexandria’s knowl­edge takes an unex­pect­ed turn. Cen­turies after the Library of Alexan­dria had ceased to exist, the Trans­la­tion Move­ment took place pri­mar­i­ly in Bagh­dad. The Trans­la­tion Move­ment hap­pened dur­ing the Islam­ic Gold­en Age, begin­ning in earnest around 762 CE with the found­ing of Bagh­dad by the Abbasid Caliphate and reach­ing its height dur­ing the reign of Caliph Al-Ma’mun from 813 to 833 CE. Dur­ing his reign, Bagh­dad became a major cen­ter of trans­la­tion and schol­ar­ship, as schol­ars trans­lat­ed works from Greek, Per­sian, Syr­i­ac, and oth­er lan­guages into Ara­bic.[13]

But the Greek texts being trans­lat­ed in Bagh­dad were not sit­ting on shelves in Alexan­dria, wait­ing to be redis­cov­ered. They had sur­vived in scat­tered copies across the Near East. Caliphs sent peace­ful diplo­mat­ic mis­sions to Con­stan­tino­ple to buy or trade for Greek man­u­scripts from the Byzan­tine emper­ors. In Per­sia and Syr­ia, many Greek works had already been trans­lat­ed into Syr­i­ac by Chris­t­ian schol­ars. Mus­lim lead­ers fund­ed Chris­t­ian and Jew­ish schol­ars to bring these texts to Bagh­dad and trans­late them into Ara­bic, cre­at­ing a remark­able chain of preser­va­tion and trans­mis­sion that car­ried Greek math­e­mat­ics, astron­o­my, med­i­cine, phi­los­o­phy, and oth­er forms of knowl­edge into a new intel­lec­tu­al world.[14] It didn’t mat­ter if the books were writ­ten by “pagan” Greeks like Aris­to­tle, Pla­to, or Ptole­my. Chris­t­ian, Jew­ish, and Mus­lim schol­ars sat side-by-side in Bagh­dad trans­lat­ing math­e­mat­ics, astron­o­my, med­i­cine, and phi­los­o­phy because the rul­ing caliphs viewed sci­en­tif­ic knowl­edge as uni­ver­sal and valuable.

And this move­ment was remark­ably col­lab­o­ra­tive. The lead­ers of the Islam­ic world paid for­tunes for books and trans­la­tions. There is even a famous leg­end that Caliph Al-Ma’mun paid the trans­la­tor Hunayn ibn Ishaq the weight of each trans­lat­ed book in pure gold. Whether or not that sto­ry is lit­er­al­ly true, it cap­tures some­thing impor­tant about the val­ue placed on knowl­edge dur­ing this peri­od. The Library of Alexan­dria did not sur­vive as one intact library, but its ideas endured because gen­er­a­tions of schol­ars copied, trans­lat­ed, stud­ied, and passed them on.[15]

And this is where the sto­ry becomes big­ger than the Library of Alexan­dria itself. The library didn’t sur­vive as one immor­tal build­ing, and its books did not all dis­ap­pear in one spec­tac­u­lar fire. Knowl­edge moved. Books were copied. Schol­ars car­ried ideas across lan­guages, cities, reli­gions, and empires.

Per­haps that is Alexandria’s real lega­cy, and in an age when we are watch­ing our own his­tor­i­cal books be destroyed by AI com­pa­nies such as Anthrop­ic, it is one of our great­est inspirations.

So, what real­ly happened?

The most hon­est answer is also the most interesting.

The answer is that we don’t know every­thing, and that is okay.

The Library of Alexan­dria wasn’t nec­es­sar­i­ly destroyed by one spec­tac­u­lar moment. It was an insti­tu­tion. And as we have seen, insti­tu­tions can dis­ap­pear grad­u­al­ly — they can lose fund­ing, their schol­ars can leave, their polit­i­cal patrons can change, their col­lec­tions can be dis­persed, their build­ings can be destroyed, and their books can be copied. Even­tu­al­ly, the insti­tu­tion itself can dis­ap­pear, while some of its intel­lec­tu­al lega­cy sur­vives elsewhere.

That, to me, is a much more fas­ci­nat­ing sto­ry than the sim­ple sto­ry of Cae­sar light­ing a match. Because the real his­to­ry of the Library of Alexan­dria isn’t real­ly a sto­ry about one fire; it’s a sto­ry about how knowl­edge sur­vives, and how it can disappear.

And per­haps the most impor­tant les­son is this: his­to­ry isn’t about replac­ing one absolute sto­ry with anoth­er. It’s about going back to the evi­dence. It’s about ask­ing where the claim came from. It’s about find­ing the ear­li­est sources we can and then care­ful­ly eval­u­at­ing what those sources tell us. Some­times the evi­dence gives us a clear answer. Some­times it gives us sev­er­al pos­si­bil­i­ties. And some­times, after all the research, the most his­tor­i­cal­ly respon­si­ble thing we can say is:

We don’t know exact­ly what hap­pened. But we know enough to know that the sto­ry is more com­pli­cat­ed than the myth.


Bib­li­og­ra­phy

Bag­nall, Roger S. “Alexan­dria: Library of Dreams.” Pro­ceed­ings of the Amer­i­can Philo­soph­i­cal Soci­ety 146, no. 4 (2002): 348–62.

Dio Cas­sius. Roman His­to­ry. Trans­lat­ed by Earnest Cary. Loeb Clas­si­cal Library. Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press.

Gutas, Dim­itri. Greek Thought, Ara­bic Cul­ture: The Grae­co-Ara­bic Trans­la­tion Move­ment in Bagh­dad and Ear­ly ʿAb­bāsid Soci­ety (2nd–4th/8th–10th Cen­turies). Rout­ledge, 1998.

Hahn, Johannes. “The Destruc­tion of the Ser­apeum of Alexan­dria, Its Library and the After­math.” Klio 103 (2021).

Lewis, Bernard. “The Van­ished Library.” New York Review of Books, Sep­tem­ber 27, 1990.

Open Uni­ver­si­ty. “The Destruc­tion of the Library.”

Plutarch. “Life of Cae­sar.” In Plutarch’s Lives. Trans­lat­ed by Bernadotte Per­rin. Loeb Clas­si­cal Library. Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press.

Stra­bo. Geog­ra­phy. Trans­lat­ed by Horace Leonard Jones. Loeb Clas­si­cal Library. Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press.

Tcherikover, Vic­tor A., and Alexan­der Fuks, eds. Cor­pus Papy­ro­rum Judaicarum. Vol. 2. Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press, 1960.

Watts, Edward J. City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexan­dria. Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia Press, 2006.


[1] Stra­bo, Geog­ra­phy, 17.1.8, trans. Horace Leonard Jones, Loeb Clas­si­cal Library (Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press). See also Edward J. Watts, City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexan­dria (Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia Press, 2006), chap. 6.

[2] Roger S. Bag­nall, “Alexan­dria: Library of Dreams,” Pro­ceed­ings of the Amer­i­can Philo­soph­i­cal Soci­ety 146, no. 4 (2002): 348–62

[3] Edward J. Watts, City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexan­dria (Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia Press, 2006), 149–51.

[4] Watts, City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexan­dria, chap. 6.

[5] Plutarch, “Life of Cae­sar,” 49.6, in Plutarch’s Lives, trans. Bernadotte Per­rin, Loeb Clas­si­cal Library (Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press, 1919).

[6] Cas­sius Dio, Roman His­to­ry, 42.38.2, trans. Earnest Cary, Loeb Clas­si­cal Library (Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press).

[7] Bag­nall, “Alexan­dria: Library of Dreams,” 356–62.

[8] Watts, City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexan­dria, 143–68.

[9] Cas­sius Dio, Roman His­to­ry, 42.38.2, trans. Earnest Cary, Loeb Clas­si­cal Library (Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press).

[10] Vic­tor A. Tcherikover and Alexan­der Fuks, eds., Cor­pus Papy­ro­rum Judaicarum, vol. 2 (Cam­bridge, MA: Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty Press, 1960), 225–240.

[11] Watts, City and School in Late Antique Athens and Alexan­dria; Johannes Hahn, “The Destruc­tion of the Ser­apeum of Alexan­dria, Its Library and the After­math,” Klio 103 (2021).

[12] Bernard Lewis, “The Van­ished Library,” New York Review of Books, Sep­tem­ber 27, 1990; Open Uni­ver­si­ty, “The Destruc­tion of the Library”.

[13] Dim­itri Gutas, Greek Thought, Ara­bic Cul­ture: The Grae­co-Ara­bic Trans­la­tion Move­ment in Bagh­dad and Ear­ly ʿAb­bāsid Soci­ety (2nd–4th/8th–10th Cen­turies) (Rout­ledge, 1998), 1–27.

[14] Gutas, Greek Thought, Ara­bic Cul­ture, 75–120.

[15] Gutas, Greek Thought, Ara­bic Cul­ture, 121.

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