Monday, 28 October 2013

SCAPAT Essay Contest


SCAPAT Undergraduate Essay Contest 2013-2014

La Section canadienne de l’Association pour l’Antiquité tardive est heureuse d’annoncer le lancement d’un concours annuel d’essais niveau 1er cycle portant sur n’importe quel thème relatif au monde méditerranéen entre 200 et 650 après J.-C. Les essais, soit en français ou en anglais, doivent être d’une université canadienne mais il n’est pas nécessaire qu’ils soient rédigés dans un cours portant sur l’Antiquité tardive, ni que les participants soient inscrits dans un programme spécifique (archéologie, histoire de l’art, études classiques, histoire, etc.). Un prix de 150$ sera attribué au gagnant. Les essais devront être soumis par courrier électronique (à partir d’un courriel d’une université), soit par l’étudiant ou par le professeur au nom de l’étudiant. Dans un cas comme dans l’autre, l’étudiant devra avoir l’approbation du professeur. Les documents doivent être envoyés en format pdf à:
Dr. Conor Whately
Department of Classics
University of Winnipeg
515 Portage Ave.
Winnipeg, Manitoba
Canada
Tel.: 204-786-9879
c.whately@uwinnipeg.ca

L’essai ne doit contenir aucune information permettant d’identifier l’auteur. Le nom de l’étudiant, son courriel, son institution et le titre de l’essai seront fournis dans un document séparé aussi envoyé par courrier électronique. Si l’essai est soumis par un professeur, le nom et le courriel de l’étudiant doivent être inclus.

Les essais doivent être soumis tels qu’ils ont été présentés dans le cadre du cours, sans révision ou corrections, à l’exception des fautes typographiques. Les textes doivent compter 15-22 pages (incluant la bibliographie) à double interligne. Les étudiants ne peuvent soumettre qu’un seul essai par année.

Les travaux seront jugés à la fois sur la forme et sur le contenu. L’essai sélectionné devra être bien écrit, structuré de façon claire, devra être exempts d’erreurs grammaticales ou syntaxiques et le gagnant du concours devra avoir fait preuve d’un bon usage des sources pertinentes dans la rédaction de la dissertation. De plus celle-ci traitera le sujet de façon rigoureuse et présentera idéalement un caractère innovateur. La date limite du concours est le 30 avril 2014. Le gagnant sera avisé en juillet (2014) et annoncé dans le prochain bulletin SCAPAT.

The Canadian section of the Association pour l’Antiquité Tardive (Association for Late Antiquity) is pleased to announce the launch of an annual prize for the best undergraduate essay, in English or French, on any theme on the Mediterranean world in Late Antiquity between A.D. 200 and 650 at Canadian universities. Applicants do not need to be a major in a pertinent discipline (Archaeology, Art History, Classics, History, etc.) to submit their work. Furthermore, the course for which the essay was written need not be focused specifically on Late Antiquity. The prize for the winner will be $150. Essays should be submitted electronically (from a university e-mail address) by either the student or the instructor on the student’s behalf. In either case, the student should have the instructor’s endorsement. They should be sent in pdf format to:

Dr. Conor Whately
Department of Classics
University of Winnipeg
515 Portage Ave.
Winnipeg, Manitoba
Canada
Tel.: 204-786-9879
c.whately@uwinnipeg.ca

There should be no indication of the student’s identity on the essay document itself. Instead, the required information should be provided on a separate document (also sent electronically) that indicates the student’s name, email address, university affiliation, and the title of the paper. If the essay is being submitted by an instructor the name and email address of the applicant should be included.

The essay should be submitted as it was written for its course without revisions, with the exception of typographical corrections. It should be 15-22 pages in length (including bibliography) and double-spaced. Students may submit only one essay per year.

The judging is based on both the essay’s content and its form: the winning essay must be well written, clearly organized and free from errors of grammar and syntax; and the contest winner will have made good use of the pertinent sources, have covered their chosen subject thoroughly, and ideally have provided new insights on their chosen topic. The deadline for submitting material to the competition is April 30th, 2014. The winner will be notified in July (2014) and will be announced in a subsequent SCAPAT newsletter.


Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Fall, Transformation, and Beyond

It's been far too long since I've written one of these.  So, here goes - even if this really is just a rehashing, or, maybe, revisiting something that I wrote about earlier.  Basically, the questions I have are how ought we approach late antiquity (fall, decline, etc.), can or should we apply this sort of interpretation to particular eras, and/or does this obscure our picture of the period (or sub-periods) as a whole?

I've finished reading the first set of assignments for my Topics in Ancient History Course here at the UofW entitled the "Fall of Rome".  Said assignment was on just that topic:  whether the empire fell, transformed, or something else, or at least what some scholars have had to say about this.  I've really enjoyed reading their papers, and not surprisingly, even with such a small group of students, there are a range of views.

Some have highlighted the fact that the Roman Empire no longer exists; ergo there must have been a fall of some sort.  Others have highlighted the success and vitality of Christianity and so taken the transformation approach.  Others have argued that it's largely a question of perspective, and gone with something approximating the middle ground.  Others still have argued that it's all rather futile, and that more energy should be devoted to the events and facts, and less to modern labels.  Good cases have been made for each view.

Suffice to say, given that I've spent a good deal of time with Procopius, it should come as no surprise that my personal view has been that what we have in the late antique east is more akin to a transformation than a decline, at least up to a point, and at least for a number of people in the eastern Roman Empire.  The empire was expanding, the population and the economy were growing, and its capital was in a state of monumentalization (if that's the right term).

But around about the time that the plague showed up in 541 or so things seem to have started to go in another direction.  Many have commented on this, some saying it was as bad as some sixth century authors make it out to be, others saying that the effects were far less pronounced.  Certainly, it had some sort of impact.

All in all, reading these assignments (and doing this course) has me thinking that I really do need to consider Justinian's role in all this a bit more.  This has to be the next major project:  Justinian, the Burden of Reconquest, and the Fall of the Roman Empire.  We have texts that cover the good and the bad in considerable detail (Procopius, notably), there has been some work done on sixth century sites, and there are some suggestive sixth century inscriptions.  But, with respect to the material evidence I fear we don't have the same quality of stuff that we have for the west, particularly for places like Italy (discussed by Ward-Perkins, and others).  Does this make a balanced-analysis impossible?  Is there a way to overcome these obstacles?  I'm certainly of the mind that every last piece of evidence must be employed, as I've said before - and now in print! (LAA 8.1).

Is it suitable to make the premise of the project:  "The Eastern Roman Empire declined in the second half of the sixth century as a result of the military actions and foreign policy of its most famous emperor, Justinian"?  Does cornering myself into something like this from the get-go make my view necessarily narrow?  Hmmm....

Sunday, 7 July 2013

Another "Cohors I/II Aurelia Something": the Cohors I Aurelia Pasinatum Bites the Dust

Lo and behold, immediately following my discussion of the Sacorum cohort I found my earlier discussion of the Pasinatum cohort.  Initially, it looked like it too might end up being the same sort of thing.  A unit resting its existence on one lone inscription (here CIL III.14545).  

Fortunately, this particular unit has attracted a reasonable (so to speak) amount of attention, and more interestingly opinion is divided with respect to its existence.  Distinguished Balkan auxiliary scholars such as Wagner, Kraft (he thought there were two), and Mirkovic all argued (so to speak) for its existence.  On the other hand, two of the heavy-weights of auxiliary unit catalogues, Cichorius and later Spaul, both excluded it from their respective discussions, the latter possibly because he was following (to some degree) the former. 

As for me, it seems that in my MA thesis (on which the book/project is based) I had argued for its existence, highlighting a certain tribe, the Pasini, mentioned by Pliny and Marcus Aurelius' recruitment of latrones from Dardania and Dalmatia (the evidence for this being found in the always sensible Historia Augusta).  What seems to have clinched it for past Conor was that Pliny's Pasini were from the nebulous borderlands between Dardania and Dalmatia.  Thus, it would be easy to see, or so I'd thought, how the Pasini of Plinly could be equated with the latrones of Marcus Aurelius, and this mysterious cohort.  Luckily for present Conor, past Conor had said that the evidence was suggestive rather than conclusive.  

Well, some years later, and with the benefit of hindsight (and more experience), after re-evaluating the evidence, and taking a look at a transcription of the fateful inscription, I'm now convinced that past Conor, as well as Wagner, Kraft, and Mirkovic (the latter three at least with regard to this topic), were full of poop.  That fantastic lone inscription simply reads as follows:

[I](ovi) O(ptimo) M(aximo) [-S]cribonius Faustus v(eteranus) e<t> Aure(l)ia(?) Pasina(?) V[---]CRCX [&

How did we go from v..Aureia Pasina to an entire unit (let alone two, for Kraft)?  God knows.  As with the previous, actual (?), cohort (Sacorum), there are no other records that specifically refer to this particular unit, and as far as I know nothing's been published to reinforce any theories about the existence of such a unit.  So, it deserves to be stricken from any lists from Balkan auxiliaries.

Yet again, if anyone out in cyberspace knows anything about this and would be willing to enlighten me, please do.  I'd be very grateful.  

Saturday, 6 July 2013

Sacae, Sakai, Sakas and Roman Auxiliaries on the lower Danube

I'm going through an older version of a draft for an "old-school" book on the imperial-era Roman military in the Moesias. The chronological range for the book is Augustus to Severus Alexander-I'd been toying with taking things to Constantine or so, but eventually came to grips with the near impossibility of doing such a thing. Too many unknowns; not enough concrete and datable evidence. I blame the Notitia Dignitatum for this. Anyway, the book is very much a late 18thC/early 19thC style volume in which I set out troop movements: who was where when, sort of thing. 

I've made it to the reign of Marcus Aurelius or so and I've come to a unit and an inscription that I'd forgotten about. CIL 3.14217, 6 (AE 1901, 21; IMS 1.119). It lists an Aurelius Victor, a soldier of the c(ohors) II aur(elia) n(ova) sacor(um). There are a few interesting things about the unit mentioned but I want to highlight two: first (A), this is the only record we have, so far as I can tell, of this unit; second (B), the identity of the mysterious "Sacor(um)".

A. There is at least one other cohors ii Aurelia based in Moesia Superior, maybe three others. As noted, there is no other record of the "sacor" variant. That in itself is noteworthy. Why only here? Is it a mistake? On the other hand, the "sacor" seems distinct enough that it seems unlikely to me that it's a lapicidal error. Did the unit later get this title for some reason that we can no longer deduce? 

B. Most readers of the inscription are happy with "sacorum" as the unabbreviated form, the genitive plural, well, of what exactly? Some have suggested that the people it refers to are the Sacae, though the genitive plural would not then be Sacorum, but Sacarum. So, lapicidal mistake after all? 

If it is a people, however, and there's plenty of precedent for including the genitive plural of a people in the nomenclature of a unit, who are they? I've found vague references to Sakai in the second century (Ptolemy and Aelius Aristides). Some modern works use this name/term too. But we also find references to the Saka or Sakas people in modern studies. Are these the same people?

Those who stick with Sakai tend to classify them as eastern Scythians. Those who refer to them as Saka/Sakai tend to associate them with the Sarmatians and give them an inner Asian background. The two-Scythian and Sarmatian-aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, and given the confusion often found in Graeco-Roman sources with respect to barbarians such a mistake is not surprising. Still, more information would be warmly welcomed.

In the end, my preferred theory is that these "sacorum" are part of the contingent of Sarmatians that were compelled to fight for Rome after their defeat in the Marcomannic wars. I only wish that I had more to base this rather flimsy conclusion on. Any suggestions out there?

Monday, 15 April 2013

Agathias, Procopius, Belisarius, and Bessas

For this post I'm being a bit lazy - I'm copying and pasting some work I've done on Procopius and Agathias.  I've been thinking a bit more about the Agathias project, largely because I seem to be all over the place at the moment.  One day I want to go one way, the other another.  I seem to be back here with Agathias this afternoon and evening.  In part this is the result of some thinking about doing a book about historiography in late antiquity - something that goes beyond Rohrbacher (chronologically) and Treadgold (less positivistic).  Right now that seems a crazy idea.   Rather, I'm thinking I should shift some of the ideas for that sort of project to Agathias:  it could be an historical and historiographical study.  As regards the latter, however, his themes would be important for what we have to say about the former.  

In turn, this has me thinking that I could frame the book on the theme of “Agathias and the Decline and Fall of Justinian”.  Agathias is critical of Justinian.  Agathias himself deals with a small segment of Justinian’s reign (550s).  It happens to be part of the negative half of his reign, when things were going less than smoothly.  What role did Agathias play, if any, in the sense that the second half of Justinian’s rule was bad, both for the emperor and everyone else involved?  Maybe it’s none, and he’s just reflecting what everyone is thinking, though some years after the fact.  Anyway, this is something that might be worth considering, and before I get into any grand study of war in the age of Justinian.

Getting to the excerpt, here I explore one way that Agathias seems to be responding to the work of his esteemed predecessor, Procopius, standard practice in ancient historiography, of course.  


Agathias names Procopius no less than eight times in his History.  In his first reference Agathias notes that, “most of the events during the time of Justinian were written down with precision afterwards by the rhetor Procopius of Caesarea” (Agathias pr. 22).  More praise comes in books two and four.[1]  On the other hand, it is not all positive, for a few chapters later praise surrounds hidden criticism (Agathias 4.26.4-6), with more to follow (Agathias 4.28.3, 4.30.5).  

Agathias was, in all likelihood, intimately familiar with Procopius.  In some places he engages with Procopius quite explicitly, though in other cases he is much more subtle.  In Procopius’ description of the Battle of Archaeopolis there are interesting episodes involving rampaging elephants.  Agathias follows a similar motif in his description of the Siege of Onoguris:  he replicates, expand upon, and conflates these individual Procopian elephant episodes into one in his own History.  So, Agathias concentrates on one lone elephant, while Procopius describes two.  Yet, the context of the scenes in Procopius and Agathias are prolonged sieges in Lazica, they do not mark a significant point in the narrative in and of themselves, though they do follow an important stage, and they come in the context of a charge on the part of one side.  Agathias’ description runs as follows: 
…he struck the elephant that was bearing down on him ferociously with his spear and drove home the point, so that it was left dangling.  The elephant found the blow unbearable [ὁ δὲ πρός τε τὴν πληγὴν] and since it was brandishing the spear before its eye it was horrified and so leapt backwards, and, whirling round [κραδαινομένου ἐκταραττόμενος ὑπεξήγετο] his trunk like an uncoiling spring, struck many of the Persians and sent them headlong, now stretching it out as long as it could go, and emitting a harsh and wild noise [τραχύν τινα καὶ ἄγριον ἦχον ἀφίει].  Suddenly he shook off those seated on his back [τοὺς ὕπερθεν ἑστῶτας ἀποσεισάμενος], and having hurled them to the earth, he trampled them to death.  Then he struck fear into the whole mob of Persians, the horses reared up [᾿αναχαιτίζων] when he approached them, and cut through and shredded whatever he came across with his tusks.  The scene was filled with lamentation and confusion” (3.27.1-3). 
The Procopian passages in question are: 
Then it happened that one of the elephants because it was struck [πληγέντα], as some say, or because it suddenly became much distressed [ἢ ἀπὸ ταὐτομάτου ξυνταραχθέντα], wheeled round [περιστρέφεσθαί] in disorder and reared up, throwing off those mounted on its back [καὶ ἀναχαιτίζειν, καὶ τοὺς μὲν ἐπιβάτας ῥίπτειν] and broke up the line of the others” (Wars 8.14.32); “one of the elephants, mounted by a great crowd of the most warlike men among the Persians, came quite close to the fortifications such that it was likely that, in a short while, it would overpower those defending themselves from on top of the tower there, since a great number of missiles were falling from above, and take the city.  For it seemed that it was some sort of machine, even a helepolis.  But the Romans, having hung a young pig from the tower, escaped this danger.  For, as is to be expected while it was suspended there, the porker let loose some cry, and having been grieved by this [κραυγμὸν γὰρ τινα...ἠφὶει, ὃνπερ ὁ ἐλέφας ἀχθόμενος ἀνεχαίτιζε] the elephant reared up and started to step back little by little and withdrew to the rear [κατἀ βραχὺ ἀναποδίζων ὀπίσω ἐχώρει]” (Wars 8.14.35-37). 

Although Agathias’ episode is much more detailed, as we would expect given the later historian’s proclivities, there are, unsurprisingly, more than a few points of contact between the two respective texts, which I have highlighted.  Agathias, then, was not only continuing the work of his esteemed predecessor, but also engaging with him. 

This episode with the elephant was not the only spot where engage with Procopius. Another important instance where Agathias engages with Procopius comes in the former’s description of the Siege of Constantinople in 559, for it is here that Agathias draws parallels between the Thracian generals Belisarius and Bessas.  Agathias seeks to denigrate Bessas and celebrate Belisarius by evoking the former’s performance in Petra while describing the latter’s performance in Constantinople.

By the time Agathias’ account began, Belisarius’ military career had seemed to be at an end.  Then the Kutrigurs attacked the capital, and he made something of a spectacular return; when the Kutrigurs made their inroads in 559 Constantinople, at least in the mind of Agathias, found itself in a desperate situation.[2]  The capital was in a state of panic and Justinian ordered Belisarius to step up in the city’s hour of need (Agathias 5.15.7).  Agathias describes Belisarius’ donning of his armour (θώρακά…ἀναδησάμενος) and notes the vigour it then fills him with.[3]  At Petra Procopius had described Bessas’ donning of his armour (αὐτὸς τεθωρακισμένος) before the attempt on that city (Procop. Wars 8.11.39); Procopius had not done this – described the dressing of a general before combat – in quite the same way for any other battle or siege.[4] 

Both men, Bessas and Belisarius, are marked out for their old age,[5] and both are forced to address the relative morale of their men.  In the case of Bessas, Procopius only alludes to his speech (Procop. Wars 8.11.40), while in the case of Belisarius Agathias provides the speech which, in his case, was meant not so much to embolden them as to temper their exuberance (Agathias 5.16.7), a fitting idea given Procopius’ characterization of Belisarius throughout the Wars (Procop. Wars 1.18.16).  Indeed, Agathias displays his rhetorical mettle in the speech by providing just the sorts of points that we might expect Belisarius to make in such a situation (and in turn we are reminded of Thucydides’ methodological statements about his speeches),[6]  at least on the basis of a thorough reading of the Wars.[7]  Belisarius here is able to temper his troops (Agathias 5.19.1), something he had not been able to do at Callinicum. 

In both sieges, Constantinople and Petra, the significance of the events is stressed,[8] though Agathias goes one step further by comparing the actions of the Roman soldiers at Constantinople with the Spartans at Thermopylae (Agathias 5.19.1-2).[9]  Once the action begins, however, the two sieges are in fact quite different.  In the case of Constantinople the Romans emerge victorious thanks to the clever planning of Belisarius.  He and his men led the Kutrigurs into a narrow place where he had stationed a few hundred soldiers and a number of civilians with missiles and noise makers to deceive the barbarians about their true numbers.[10]  As with other battles of Agathias, the melee is quite vivid, with the senses of sight and sound appealed to by the historian.[11]  On the other hand, Petra was filled with the desperate attempts of Bessas and his men to force an ascent of the city’s walls.  There were several mishaps before Bessas eventually found a way to secure his entry into the city.  At the end of the siege of Constantinople Belisarius’ attack leads to the death of a good number of the enemy soldiers, and to some atypical behaviour on the part of the Kutrigurs.[12]  Though it took much longer to get there the Romans managed to capture, kill, or injure a good number of the Persians at Petra as well (Procop. Wars 8.11.63).

The fighting exhibited in the two sieges is quite different.  This does not, however, call into question the conscious parallels drawn by Agathias for he wanted his audience to compare the performance of Bessas – that other well-known Thracian commander of the age of Justinian – at that previous siege at Petra with Belisarius’ performance at the siege of Constantinople in his History.  Agathias, like Procopius, was no fan of Bessas, at least if his comments at 3.2.3-7 are anything to go by; moreover, like Procopius he gives that appraisal based on Bessas’ performance, for at an earlier stage of the text he had described him as one of the best generals (στρατηγοὺς ἐπέστησε τοὺς ἀρίστους) (Agathias 2.18.8), and one with a tremendous amount of experience (Agathias 2.18.8).[13] 

We should not be surprised by this appraisal. Agathias puts great stock in the importance of the individual, as well as the truth, as he makes clear in his preface (Agathias pr. 16-20).[14]  In the end, then, in this comparison between Bessas and Belisarius it is the latter who comes off much the superior general, and this the result of the general’s own performance.

[1] Agathias 2.19; 4.15.
[2] This is particularly true if we are to believe Agathias’ disparaging remarks about the state of the Roman defences and military (Agathias 5.14.1-4), which echo those made by Procopius in the Secret History about that same group (Procop. SH 24).  These parallels (and some others) suggest that Agathias is likely to have read the polemical text himself.
[3] Agathias 15.8.8.
[4] Note, however, the description of Totila’s armour in his last battle against Narses (Procop. Wars 8.31.18).
[5] Bessas – Procop. Wars 8.11.40; Belisarius – Agathias 5.16.1.
[6] cf. the famous pronouncements of Thucydides on these matters at 1.22.
[7] Compare, for example, Procopius’ comments about Belisarius’ actions at 1.18.16 (τότε ον παντας Βελισάριος ργντας π τος πολεμίους ρν) with Belisarius’ comments in Agathias at 5.17.2 (λλ’ ρν ν μν πολ τ περφρονον κα θρασυνόμενον); and Belisarius’ comments at Wars 1.14.25 (κα τ πλθος τν πολεμίων, μάλιστα δεδίττονται, μς περφρονεν ξιον) with Belisarius’ comments at History 5.17.4 (καίτοι κκενο σκοπεσθαι χρεών, ς ε κα πολλ τς μετέρας νδρείας ττώμενοι τύχοιεν, λλ τ πλήθει κρατοσι).
[8] Procop. Wars 8.11.41, Agathias 5.15.9.
[9] The Spartan stand at Thermopylae is found in Herodotus (Hdt. 7.198-239), the author who cast the biggest shadow over book eight of Procopius’ Wars.
[10] See the discussion of Archaeopolis above.
[11] At 5.19.7 we get shouting and confusion; we get the encircling of the foe at 5.19.8; the tremendous din of the troops at 5.19.9; and clouds of dust, again at 5.19.9.
[12] Number of deaths:  Agathias 5.19.10; atypical behaviour:  Agathias 5.19.12.
[13] Βέσσας τε γρ κα Μαρτνος κα Βούζης γετο, νδρες ν τος μάλιστα γεγενημένοι κα πολέμους συχνος γωνισάμενοι.
[14] Cf. Whately 2008:  247

Monday, 8 April 2013

The Battle of Marathon, Part Two

I should be marking papers, but, well, I'm not.  Instead, I offer this:  my opportunity to fulfil my lifelong (and suppressed) dream to be a war reporter.


On a cold winter's day, in the sixth month of winter to be exact, I bore witness to one of the greatest - and little known - battles of antiquity, Marathon 2.0.  The date?  490BC (+ 2013 years, give or take), on the 2nd of April.  There I was, surrounded by 1000s (10s, actually) of Athenians and 10s of 1000s (10s, again) of Persians on a wintry plain (I've superimposed a "gymnasium" background to minimize the gore).

The fear was palpable in the moments before the battle started, as the two sides lined up.

At first the Athenians seemed disorganized and dispirited - ominous and foreboding behaviour when battle is imminent.

Thankfully, the Persians were just as concerned about the looming battle, one which would determine their fate in this second, famous battle at Marathon (well - there is a track in the gymnasium, and you "could" run one if you so chose).

Things started to turn when the brave and noble general Matthew Maher, the juggernaut of this long forgotten battle, stood before his men, gave a long and glorious speech, and so raised their spirits.  As a result, they took up their appointed positions and prepared to meet the Persian onslaught.


There was nearly a terrible disaster, when a rampaging Persian elephant broke free.


Thankfully, this monstrous beast did not discourage the Greeks.  Indeed, as the Athenians prepared to advance, their ferocity was palpable.  


When the two sides finally clashed together, it was a sight to behold!  There was pushing, shoving, shouting, and yelling.  The dust (invisible in the photo) clouded the skies.  Yelling and crying filled the combatants' ears.  For a while, the scale lay balanced, and neither side had a clear advantage.


But then an elephant broke free, causing mayhem in the Persian ranks.


Lo and behold, the Persians turned in flight and the Athenians emerged victorious, yet again!  All that remained was for the hound of Hades, fearsome Cerberus, to gather the vanquished Persian souls.


And with that, the Battle of Marathon 2.0 drew to a close.  This reporter is delighted to have witnessed - and survived - Matthew Maher's fantastic display.  That general, his soldiers - even those dastardly Persians - deserve due credit for their obedience, performance, and attention to their craft.  If there's anything to take away from all of this it's that the Romans - known to wage war on occasion here in Winnipeg - will have to improve their weaponry, as their pool noodles and foam swords seem puny in comparison to the fabulous weaponry and equipment of this bunch (CLAS-3006).

War in the Age of Justinian

At some point in the next year or two I'll submit a research proposal for the next large-scale project I'll entitle something to the effect of (the less than original), "War in the Age of Justinian".  The plan would be to make a book out of this, with an article or two (or more) spit out along the way.  To that end I've got a few reviews, papers, and so forth that address select aspects of such a project.

Today I re-read a draft of a paper (first written in 2008/2009), which might finally see the light of day later this year, on militarization and elites in the sixth century Roman Empire.  The paper is centred, in part, on Wilson's (2008), "Defining Military Culture", JMH 72, which aims to set out ways "to analyse the norms and values influencing the behaviour of soldiers in the past".  Along the way Wilson sets out five key elements for evaluating an army as an institution:  its mission, its relationship to the state and other institutions, its relationship to society, its internal structure, and its access to resources.  Are these reasonable criteria for evaluating the norms and values of sixth century Rome (Byzantium), at least with respect to war?

Its access to resources:  My aim in this project isn't to provide an overview of whom the Romans fought and when, but rather what impact war had on Justinian's empire, and the wider "age of Justinian", exemplified by Maas' Cambridge companion.  What impact did it have on imperial expenditure:  we know the reign started with a surplus (Haarer 2006), but that Justinian seems to have done a fine job of eliminating that surplus.

Along with the finances go the various physical structures.  Was Procopius right?  Did Justinian spend shitloads of money on upgrading and expanding the empire's physical military infrastructure?  If you lived on the eastern frontier would the world have seemed much more outwardly militarized than those living elsewhere?

Its relationship to the state and other institutions:  At the same time, we know that the second half of Justinian's reign was, for all intents and purposes, not like first.  We could say that Justinian's positivity gave way to pessimism.  What role did war play in this?

To what degree were the people of Constantinople and beyond thinking about war?  Were they more concerned with doctrinal disputes and chariot races than wars fought in far-flung frontiers, rather than in those rare instances when the capital (which is far better represented in the textual evidence than any other part of the empire) itself was threatened?  Along the same lines - did the church and/or the civilian government monopolize the state's attention at the expense of the soldiery?  Procopius alludes to this - though more with respect to Justinian - in the Secret History.

Relationship to society:  Of course, war has been seen as impetus for change in society at large.  With respect to military elites, and military careers for both high and low alike:  did the rise of the cavalry in late antiquity, particularly in the sixth century, come with a change in the empire's elite?  There are also all the regular people of the empire whose lives are poorly documented.  How might it have effected them?

Its mission and its internal structure (and society for that matter):   Horses are expensive, and if cavalry grew in popularity and more mounted troops were used, it's reasonable to suppose that more officers would be needed.  Is there any room for a rise or return of the equites?  Sarris (2006) has discussed, at least in part, the military's role in enforcing the collection of money by the state, at least in Egypt.  Though, we might well ask if this was any different from how things had always been done.

Luckily, the age of Justinian is well-documented, at least with respect to the textual evidence.  We also have some papyri (for the relationship with society, among other things), and there has even been some excavation of military sites, though not as much as one might like.  There are some useful inscriptions, and all that legal material.  In fact, it surprises me (though pleases me) that no one has done something quite like this before, at least to the best of my knowledge.  Hopefully no one beats me to the punch.

Monday, 25 March 2013

Who Reads Ancient Military Manuals?

Who reads military manuals?  This is the question I have been (and still am) grappling with over the past couple of months in preparation for the Shifting Frontiers X Conference, which finished this past weekend in Ottawa.  I gave a paper that tackled (well - tackled is a bit strong) this very issue and as I prepare to write it up for publication it's something I plan on discussing in more detail.  In fact, I'll probably make it the primary focus of the published version.

My decision to shift (or narrow) my focus - (from how to approach the transformation of the military manual in late antiquity to genre and readership in the late antique manual) was inspired in part by the useful discussion that followed my talk, which was in turn aided by the absence of one speaker (there was more time for me to speak and answer questions).  Admittedly, in the paper itself I only discussed readership a few times and in passing.  In fact, it was in the run-up to the presentation itself (a day or so beforehand) that I started thinking about it in greater detail.  There were select other papers that discussed technical subject matter, and given that genre was a big part of the conference as a whole it's not surprising that I was given more pause for thought.

Getting back to the question and subject, who did read these things?  I was particularly interested in the anonymous De Rebus Bellicis, Vegetius' Epitoma, Urbicius' assorted works, Syrianus' (I still lean towards a sixth century date) assorted works, Maurice's Strategicon, and Apollodorus (for other reasons - not late antique).  Their subject matter varies (I prefer to think of them as one genre), and one of the principal issues in scholarship is whether they were there descriptive or theoretical sort.  This, as you can well imagine, has some bearing on the readership.

In the questions afterwards some questioned whether anyone read them - their existence had more to do with survival rates (not much survives from antiquity and we just happen to have these) than anything.  It's a fair question.  Have we lost any more than those we know about?  Were there more?

Some of these manuals have some bearing on reality.  Maurice's, for example, is the one often held up as the best example of this, though there are some out there who think even Syrianus might have fall into this category.  Vegetius seems to as well, at least in part.  The best earlier example is Arrian's treatise about the Alans.  But is this true?  Is Maurice really practical?  And for whom?

A related issue (that came up - and that I delved into) is military training.  Was there some sort of military academy that the would-be officers could attend in late antiquity to hone their skills and learn the tricks of their trade?    If not, how did they acquire these assorted skills and the varied knowledge?  Would they have read these manuals?  Maybe the generals read some manuals like Maurice's.  Maybe they read the others.  But would manuals espousing Roman military details really be easily available?  Might not there be some concern of it falling into the wrong hands?  So, maybe these were read for fun by the literate of the capital and beyond.  After all, a lot of modern readers read assorted military stuff.  Officers might have learned their trade anyway from conversation with their peers, or through other means we just don't know or have.

Anyway, these are things for me to consider.  More to follow.