The Cultural Context
Decrying the lack of interest
in the painstaking studies of those who enlighten us about the moon
and other heavenly lights, Pliny complains that “through a flaw in
the human mentality, we delight in recording blood and slaughter in
our history books, so that people who are ignorant about the universe
itself may know about the crimes of humanity” (Historia Naturalis
2.43). Despite this complaint, warfare will inevitably loom large in
the cultural background to the course, since Rome was for so long a
military state. The phrase domi militiaeque “at home and on
military service” reflects a long-established Roman perspective: the
only reason for leaving home was to fight wars. Augustus was proud of
his establishment of peace throughout the empire:
“Our ancestors decreed
that the doors of the temple of Janus Quirinus should be closed whenever
peace, secured by victory by land and sea, prevailed through the whole
empire. There are only two recorded instances of this before my birth
since the founding of the city [in the (semi-legendary) reign of Numa
Pompilius, the second king, and in 235 BC, after the first Punic War,
more than 500 years after the founding of the city], but the Senate
has ordered them to be closed three times during my Principate [after
the Battle of Actium in 31 BC, after Augustus’ campaigning in Spain
in 25 BC; nothing is known about the third closure]” (The
Deeds of the God Augustus 13).
Warfare was not, however, always
regarded in a negative light: Livy records that the consuls of 303 BC
campaigned in Umbria so that their year in office would not go by without
any war. They will have wished to escape the obscurity accorded to the
consuls of 429 BC, of whom Livy says simply that “nothing worth recording
happened during their consulship”.
At the start of Book 6, Livy
frets that his readers will be tired of his accounts of the constant
wars, but he is rather more assertive when he asks in Book 10 “What
sort of person could be irritated with writing or reading about all
these long wars, when they did not exhaust those who actually fought
them?” (Some classical scholars, however, might admit to finding Livy’s
record [Books 31ff.] of the wars in Greece in the 2nd century BC rather
uninspiring.)
The Greek historian Cassius
Dio has Caesar say when about to fight the German chieftain Ariovistus
at Vesontium (Besançon) in 58 BC: “Anyone who says we should not
make war might as well say that we should not acquire wealth, rule others,
be free, be Romans”. In Sallust’s Histories, a letter purporting
to be addressed by Mithridates of Pontus to the king of Armenia says:
“The Romans have weapons directed at everyone, and the sharpest are
turned against those whose subjugation will bring the greatest plunder;
they have become powerful through audacity, through deceit, through
sowing war after war”.
Even during the pax Romana
“the Roman peace”, established by Augustus and conventionally considered
to have lasted till the death of Marcus Aurelius in AD 180, maintaining
the army for frontier wars required more than half of the imperial budget.
The Romans’ focus on warfare
is perhaps more understandable if we bar in mind how close they came
to annihilation in the aftermath of Cannae in 216 BC:
Hannibal's officers all
surrounded him and congratulated him on his victory, and urged that
after such a magnificent victory he should allow himself and his exhausted
men to rest for the remainder of the day and the following night. Maharbal,
however, the leader of the cavalry, thought that they should not waste
any time. He said to Hannibal “To give you an idea of what has been
gained by this battle, I prophesy that in five days you will be feasting
victoriously on the Capitol. Follow me; I will go in advance with the
cavalry; the citizens of Rome will know that you have come before they
know that you are coming”. To Hannibal the victory seemed too great
and too joyous for him to appreciate its scale all at once. He told
Maharbal that he commended his enthusiasm, but that he needed time to
think out his plans. Maharbal replied “The gods have not given all
their gifts to one man. Hannibal, you know how to be victorious, but
you do not know how to take advantage of your victory” [vincere
scis, Hannibal, victoria uti nescis.] The delay of that one day
is plausibly thought to have saved our city and our empire (Livy,
History of Rome 22.51).
To put Roman militarism in
perspective, they were scarcely the only war-minded power. Livy uses
exactly the same phrase as Mithridates applies to the Romans, “sowing
war after war”, in referring to Hannibal. Strabo, a Greek geographer
of the Augustan period, recounts how, when members of a Spanish tribe,
the Vettonians, visited a Roman camp for the first time, and saw some
officers strolling around just for the pleasure of doing so, they thought
they must be insane, and escorted them back to their tents, on the supposition
that they should either be sitting quietly or fighting.
Northern peoples, especially
the Germanic tribes, were considered to be notoriously warlike. “When
their own community is wallowing in unwelcome peacetime idleness, noble
young German warriors go off to some other tribe that is waging war”
(Tacitus, Germania 14).
The Latin word hostis
most often means “foreign enemy”, but its primary sense is simply
“stranger”. The same is true of the Greek ξένoς (xenos),
and both hostis and ξένoς are cognate with the English words
host, hospitable, hostile and guest.
The elder Pliny says that Julius Caesar killed more people than anyone else ever, but he was not the only commander to adopt a policy of genocide: in 150 BC, a direct ancestor of Galba, emperor in AD 68-69, systematically massacred men, women and children in an attempt to exterminate the Lusitanians (in modern Portugal).