sehepunkte 25 (2025), Nr. 1

Richard Westall / Hannah Cornwell (eds.): New Perspectives on the Roman Civil Wars of 49-30 BCE

This edited volume, the result of a conference held at the British School at Rome in 2019, on the civil war(s) of 49-30 BCE, contains eleven chapters. In the introduction, a brief look at the modern historiography of the Roman civil wars of 49-30 BCE is followed by a summary to the chapters and the new perspectives. The focus here is on 'government', 'society and government', and 'the creation of memory'.

Chapter one by Cornwell focuses on negotiation as a tool of legitimacy; diplomacy as a tool for constructing or deconstructing one's own legitimacy and that of one's political opponents. It follows logically that diplomacy is about shaping the decisions and actions of others to one's own advantage. Caesar emphasises a negotiated settlement in the Bellum Civile, but we do not believe him (rightly, 14); this was, after all, a military victory and a partisan book. The fundamental question of how to use military means to achieve political ends - strategy - naturally also included diplomacy as a tool.

Zucchetti focuses on Caesar and the construction of 'the people' using Laclau's constructionist model. The author, at least according to this reviewer, slightly misrepresents the concept of stasis as well as that of bellum civile. As Straumann points out, stasis may be a civil war proper, but it may not involve 'warfare' at all (2017, Roman Ideas on the Loose). As for the concept of bellum civile, it does indeed mean conventional warfare with citizens fighting on both sides, as emphasised by Appian (B Civ. 1.55), as noted by Zucchetti (34), and, we might add, by Cassius Dio (52.16.2). Importantly, civil wars have an antebellum, a bellum, and a postbellum period. The antebellum period is akin to a stasis without actual warfare. As for Zucchetti's reluctance to read the entire Late Republic as one continuous civil war (49, note 7), this may be based on the same misunderstanding. Riots and civil unrest are a natural part of civil war, which of course also often include periods without (much) fighting (Lange 2024, From Hannibal to Sulla; Osgood 2015, Ending Civil War in Rome). With Freeman (2018, The Field of Blood), we can now more easily incorporate periods of relative normality, or the appearance of it, into an analysis of the antebellum context and systemic breakdown. As for 'the people', we should remember that propaganda works best on those who already agree (Malešević 2010, The Sociology of War and Violence). Is it just me, or are there similarities with contemporary politics? 'The people' are those who support Trump, not his opponents, who are not legitimate.

Next Liubimova tries to settle the old debate about the age of Caesar using RRC 452, dated to 48 BCE. Visible letters, she claims, suggest that it celebrated Caesar's fifty-second birthday. This is followed by Kersten, who emphasises that Young Caesar and Sextus Pompeius legitimised their power using un-republican divine filiations as their model. Because this alternative legitimacy did not depend on day-to-day politics it constituted a "more reliable claim to power" (75). Kersten rightly adds that this approach is another argument against the idea of Sextus Pompeius as a republican (82). Jordan follows with a chapter on Roman allies during civil war. The main idea is that allies were forced to pay more attention to internal Roman politics (95) is sound, but this is hardly a civil war phenomenon. The Italian allies did much the same during the age of expansion. Even so, there can be little doubt that competing Roman factions did little to help the allied rulers navigate.

Tariverdieva is next, with the Agrippa brothers fighting on opposite sides of the civil war, one with Cato and one with Caesar. This chapter, more than anything else, shows how little we know about many important people of the period. The approach of The Alternative Augustus Age (Morrell et al. 2019) is as important as it is difficult. In their chapter, La Salvia and Moderato focus on the archaeological excavations at Corfinium. The title highlights the siege of Caesar as a case between historical sources and archaeological data. Whether or not we believe that the siege of the city was a major turning point in the political rhetoric of the period, the idea that the material "seems to be at variance" (137) and that the archaeological material must be given preference is less obvious than it might at first appear. Because much of the archaeological evidence lacks context, it does not by itself provide an objective picture of the past. It is by combining the two types of sources, by finding common ground, that we will find new answers. The command structure during the civil wars comes next. Augier points to the breakdown of hierarchical order that resulted from the perceived need for generals to accommodate soldiers and officers. Gauthier follows with a look at the finances of the army. This is about the breakdown of the normal functioning of state finances.

The penultimate chapter by Gerrish suggests that the collective sense of Roman identity is lost during times of civil war. This amounts to a cultural trauma. The Historiae, on this reading, is about Sallust's contemporary world (echoing her thesis, Sallust's Histories and Triumviral Historiography, 2019). The deliberate confusion between Pompeius and Mithridates, between Roman and barbarian, suggests, according to Gerrish, a critique of the triumvirs. Her conclusion, which I find problematic, claims that the Romans did not want to celebrate the victories of the civil war and therefore "[t]he Triumvir's tricks are familiar to us: Sextus Pompey becomes a pirate, and Cleopatra, not Mark Antony, the target of war." (177). The Romans celebrated victories in civil war, but to achieve a triumph, Sextus was a pirate and Cleopatra an enemy. However, in order to accomplish the triumviral assignment of ending the civil war(s), Sextus and Antonius were enemies (Lange 2016, Triumphs in the Age of Civil War). What is important is that the protagonists wanted to blame their opponents. They started the war, while the victor always ended it (Lucius Opimius, Sulla, Caesar and Augustus all use this basic narrative). A sanitised version of civil war. Sulla's Memoirs mention civil war, as does Caesar. Res Gestae 34 mentions (the ending of) civil war (as does chapter 3). And what about the famous joint ovation of Antonius and Young Caesar in 40 BCE: Imp. Caesar Divi f. C. f. IIIvir r(ei) p(ublicae) c(onstituendae) ov[ans, an. DCCXIII] quod pacem cum M. Antonio fecit [...]. And there is the inscription of a civil war monument dedicated to Young Caesar in 36 BCE, an honorific column on the Forum, adorned with rostra, and an inscription: "Peace, long disrupted by civil war, he restored on land and sea" (App. B Civ. 5.130: τὴν εἰρήνην ἐστασιασμένην ἐκ πολλοῦ συνέστησε κατά τε γῆν καὶ θάλασσαν ; cf. 5.132). The list could go on!

Westall concludes the volume with a chapter on Asinius Pollio. Westall's chapter, more than anything else, highlights a fundamental issue of how we as scholars engage with the Fragments of the Roman Historians on the question of the methodology behind the decision of what constitutes a 'fragment'. Comments such as "[n]o fragments are explicitly linked to anything before the crossing of the Rubicon in 49." (187) are, of course, always a little dangerous.

All in all, this is a fine volume. However, rather than 'government', 'society and government', and the 'creation of memory', what seems to bring this volume together is the breakdown of Roman society through civil war. This, of course, was a process that began long before 49 BCE.