The governors of Macedonia were kept busy with military matters, and in a law passed around 102 BC it was necessary to stipulate that they should spend sixty days on justice and administration in the area of the Chersonese lately added to their responsibilities. They had neither the time nor the authority to visit Greece to the south, and communities there were left to run their own affairs. There is no good evidence for the alleged Roman preference for installing oligarchs in the city-states and removing democracies. Nor was there routine, frequent or even periodic interference in the internal and external politics of the cities of Greece initiated by the Romans. Rome was concerned by any serious threat to its imperium in the sense of its power and dominance, but that did not mean an automatic and aggressive response to any slight inflicted on its representatives.4
In 87 BC a cohort of Roman soldiers was billeted in the city of Chaeronea for the winter months. The officer in command made sexual advances on a local youth named Damon, resorting to threats after gifts and persuasion had failed. Repelled and frightened, Damon and a group of sixteen friends drank heavily, smeared their faces black with soot and attacked the Roman at dawn while he was sacrificing in the market place. The officer and several soldiers were cut down and the killers fled into the countryside. In their absence they were condemned to death by the city council, but the youths returned that night and murdered several of the leading magistrates before vanishing again. For a while Damon and his friends lived as bandits. A Roman legate passed through the city to collect the remaining soldiers there and add them to his army. He investigated the matter and judged that the officials had acted properly. However, a little later Damon was granted an amnesty and returned to hold the prestigious post of gymnasiarch – in charge of the city’s gymnasium, that quintessential symbol of Hellenic fitness, competition and culture. In spite of this honour, he was murdered while in the bath. A neigh-bouring city then went to the governor of Macedonia, claiming that the leaders of Chaeronea had been involved in the original killings. As advocate they hired a Roman, no doubt hoping that this would count in their favour, but, after the legate was contacted by letter and confirmed his original judgement, the charge was dismissed.5
Both the legate and the governor of Macedonia were satisfied that the city authorities had dealt with the matter justly and were willing to leave it there. In part this no doubt reflected the dishonourable behaviour of the murdered officer. Homosexuality between Roman soldiers was punishable by death, while love affairs with civilian boys or youths were not widely admired even though they were not illegal. Yet it is striking that the killing of an army officer did not prompt a knee-jerk desire for revenge. The Romans may have been unaware that Damon was pardoned and honoured by his city, for there is no evidence that they took any trouble to find out what happened to him or to ensure that the local authorities hunted him down. They simply do not appear concerned about how the matter was resolved, or at all angry at his escaping formal punishment and receiving a prestigious post. Chaeronea was an ally, had behaved properly in its initial response, and was fully entitled to enforce its own laws as it saw fit. The case was raised by another Greek city, Orchomenus, a long-time rival of Chaeronea hoping to damage their neighbour and win Roman favour.6
It would be quite possible to write a history of the cities of Greece – and indeed the kingdoms and city-states in Asia and further afield – in the second and early first centuries BC in which Rome played a minor, for much of the time even irrelevant, part. Long-standing rivalries like that between Chaeronea and Orchomenus continued to be played out, as did the internal politics of each community. Sometimes both were violent – as in the case of Damon and his slaughter of civic leaders, subsequent rehabilitation and murder. Between communities and kingdoms full-scale wars continued to be waged just as they had been in the past. This was an area that had rarely known long stretches of peace, and had only briefly been united by force under Alexander the Great. Since his death the major Successor kingdoms had vied for power, attacking each other at the slightest hint of weakness, and making and breaking alliances as convenience dictated. None was ever able to gain permanent advantage, and gradually their power was eroded by these conflicts and contests for supremacy among their royal families. Smaller kingdoms flourished as their power declined, Pergamum, Bithynia and Pontus in Asia being the most successful.7 Rome eventually deposed King Perseus and dismantled Macedonia. The Seleucid Antiochus III was defeated in 189 BC, but this was far from a fatal blow to his power and the kingdom soon recovered much of its strength. The treaty imposed by Rome barred him from maintaining certain military assets such as warships and war elephants, but there was no concerted effort to keep an eye on the king or his heirs. In 163 BC a Roman embassy touring the east to confirm existing alliances discovered that the Seleucids had plenty of both banned items, and ordered the ships burned and the animals hamstrung. A year later the former consul leading this embassy was murdered in the gymnasium at Laodicea by a local angered at this humiliation. No reprisals were taken by Rome, even when the murderer travelled to Italy and offered himself up for justice. This was at a time when the Republic had no other major military commitments. The killing was not seen as a blow against Rome’s imperium, and was the action of an individual not sanctioned by the new claimant to the throne. It is possible that the ambassador was felt to have behaved too harshly. Every few decades a party led by a senior senator went to the Hellenic world to visit allies and renew the bonds with Rome. In each case they confirmed existing relationships and were not expected to make drastic changes, but did gather information about the places they visited.8
Disinterest characterised Roman attitudes to most events in the Hellenic world after the major conflicts fought in the first few decades of the second century BC. The kingdoms and cities of the region were almost all allies – or if not were keen to gain this status. As in Gaul, the Romans were rarely inclined to take sides in struggles between allies and friends, unless these had a direct impact on Rome’s power and interests – something especially rare before the acquisition of Asia as a province. Rome was distant and did not follow events closely, but her overwhelming military might was a factor to be considered by Hellenic leaders and communities. Just like the chieftains in Gaul and elsewhere, the possibility of enlisting Roman support was an attractive one for these men. At the very least, they needed to make sure that rivals did not gain this advantage and use it against them, so that it was better to act first and secure Rome’s goodwill. For Greek leaders the Romans were simply one more player to add to the many great and small powers competing on the international stage. The basic rules of the game had not changed.
Roman embassies to the east were rare, but the traffic of ambassadors going in the other direction was constant. The presence of a proconsul and garrison in Macedonia also meant that a steady stream of envoys went to him seeking Roman friendship or support however vague. A common appeal was for arbitration in a dispute with another community. Such requests had been routinely made to the Hellenistic kingdoms or to the bigger cities and leagues, and some communities continued to go to them instead of Rome. It was an opportunity to show respect to a powerful state and to renew or create a bond of friendship. Normally a third party was asked to provide judges to decide the case, thus giving all parties involved a chance to cement good relations with yet another community. Once again, this was ‘business as usual’ in the Greek world and the Romans were enlisted as simply another Hellenic power. They did not act in response to all appeals, invariably passed the task of deciding the matter on to a third party, and showed no real interest in the outcome, let alone in making sure that the decision was enforced. No doubt the community who first appealed hoped that the respect shown to Rome would aid their cause, and the appeal usually began with a reminder of past friendship and loyalty.9
In most cases we hear of an appeal to Rome because the case was recorded in an inscription set up by a city to commemorate the decision – something unlikely unless the Ro
mans were moved to act. Even so, their involvement was minimal. The Second Macedonian War was declared in 200 BC in response to appeals for aid against Philip V from Athens and several other states, but he was already considered an enemy of Rome because of his alliance with Hannibal in Rome’s darkest hour. Military intervention was extremely rare and only occurred when it was perceived to be in Rome’s interests. In 169 BC the Seleucids invaded Ptolemaic Egypt. The Senate delayed making a decision for some months, and so it was not until the next year that an embassy went to Egypt. Its head, Caius Popillius Laenas, buoyed by news of the recent decisive victory over the Macedonian King Perseus, acted with supreme self-confidence. When he met King Antiochus IV he refused to shake hands and bluntly demanded that the Seleucid king withdraw his army. Antiochus asked for time to confer with his advisers, but Laenas used his stick to draw a circle in the dust surrounding the king and demanded an answer before he stepped out of the ring. The Seleucid king backed down and withdrew to his own realm.10
This was Roman diplomacy at its most brutal, with a senator making a foreign king and his army cave in to his demands even though he was backed by only the distant threat of military force. The incident became famous as ‘the day of Eleusis’, a great source of pride to Romans, but that should not hide the basic truth that such behaviour was very rare. The Republic showed great reluctance for military adventures in the east simply to support allies in the area. One reason was the heavy military demands of the frontiers in northern Italy and then southern Gaul, and in Spain. Rome was glad to acquire allies in the east as elsewhere, but there were plenty of occasions when they refused offers of assistance from Greek communities because they did not wish to place themselves under future obligation. Hellenic leaders knew that they could not rely on Roman backing for their own security, and so continued to pursue their ambitions as before. Rome rarely acted, and even when it did choose to intervene often did not insist on having its way. Shrewd leaders also knew that Rome’s displeasure could well be turned around in time, and so they invaded their neighbours or overthrew family members to seize power. There was a good chance that the Senate would accept a fait accompli.11
DEALING WITH ROME
The Roman Senate was preoccupied with the annual cycle of politics, with domestic matters, competition between its members, and waging war or dealing with major threats to the interests of the Republic. It lacked the time, knowledge and administrative machinery to observe closely and involve itself in the complex and ever-changing affairs of the many states and kingdoms in the wider world. Alliances varied in the degree of friendship they created, but rarely required direct military support when the ally was attacked – especially if the attacker was also an ally. Harnessing Rome’s reputation, influence, let alone any degree of direct action, took considerable effort. The governor of Macedonia might be persuaded to make a decision setting up a means of arbitration in a dispute, but did not have the authority to form an alliance, although he could recommend this to the Senate. At the very least, he would return to Rome at the end of his term of office and so honours paid to him might help to recruit a sympathetic ear in the Senate.
The most effective way of gaining Roman favour was to go to Rome itself, but there was no guarantee that a legation would be granted an audience by the Senate. Most embassies who gained this honour were heard in February, and only a matter of immediate and deep concern to the Republic was likely to be given a hearing at other times of the year. Plenty of delegations wanted an audience and time was limited, so for most there was a wait of months or even years. Sensible ambassadors went to senators’ houses first thing in the morning when they received friends, clients and petitioners in the reception room or atrium. The presence of representatives of foreign kings or communities added to the reputation of the host, and so if he wished this to continue he would hopefully do something on their behalf. Yet there were 300 or so senators – 600 after the expansion of the Senate during Sulla’s dictatorship – and only a small proportion had enough prestige to stand a good chance of raising something at a meeting.12
A prior connection was an asset, for if a senator or his ancestors had helped in the past then there was an obligation on them to act again, which would in turn reinforce their prestige as patron of a foreign community. The conqueror of a region was expected to become the patron of the peoples there, as was each successive governor, so as new provinces were acquired then more communities established such a link. It was also worth cultivating any Roman of note who passed through a city. Many young aristocrats went to the Hellenic world to study oratory before their formal careers began, including Cicero and Julius Caesar who both spent time on Rhodes. Others passed through Greece on their way to commands in Asia and later Cilicia. Athens had a distinct advantage from its pre-eminence as the centre of the Greek culture, which came to obsess the Roman elite during the course of the second century BC. As Horace later put it, ‘captive Greece captured the fierce conqueror’.13
A lot of senators on official journeys paused to visit Athens and were received with great ceremony, inspecting a parade of the ephebes, the young male citizens undergoing a period of military training. It was common to be initiated into the sacred rites of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Cicero tells us that Lucius Licinius Crassus, a quaestor returning from a posting to Asia but later famous as an orator, arrived two days late for the ceremony and requested the Athenians to stage the whole thing again so that he could take part. They refused, and Crassus sulkily cut short his visit. Not every senator needed to be accommodated in all his demands, especially by a city as famous as Athens. Ptolemaic Egypt developed something close to a formal tour of its sights for visiting Romans, including a trip to the Nile and the opportunity to see the sacred crocodiles being fed. Roman visitors were pampered and entertained, but not free to do whatever they liked. When one accidentally killed a cat – an animal considered sacred by ancient tradition – he was lynched by a mob of Alexandrian citizens. Merely being Roman did not make visitors immune from local taboos.14
The prestige of the community or leader who sent an embassy to Rome increased the chance of catching the attention of senators and eventually winning a hearing in the Senate. Almost as important was the choice of ambassadors. Skill at oratory was essential, and anything marking them out as worthy of respect was an asset. Athens once sent the heads of all its philosophical schools as part of an embassy. Past success was another recommendation, since it showed that a man knew how to work the system to advantage. Some orators made multiple visits to Rome. An inscription records no fewer than five successful trips to Rome made by the orator Menippus of Colophon in Asia on behalf of his home city in the late second century BC, stating that he ‘maintained the force of laws regarding every kind of charge even in cases involving the Romans’. In one case a citizen of Colophon was charged with killing a Roman and had been summoned to Rome by the orders of Roman magistrates. Menippus successfully reasserted a senatorial judgement stating that even cases of this sort must be dealt with at Colophon by the city’s own laws.15
On the whole the Romans respected precedent and tried to be consistent in their decisions, which still meant that sometimes they needed to be reminded of past judgements because they lacked the bureaucratic support to have such information always at their finger-tips. As well as their knowledge and connections, many ambassadors made gifts to prominent men in the hope of gaining their goodwill or even active support. Cicero mentions that Cleopatra promised to give him several books during one of her visits to Rome, presents ‘that had to do with learning and not derogatory to my dignity’ – and was bitter when they never appeared. He considered a present of this sort as entirely honourable and appropriate. At other times gifts of money or artworks were given, sometimes on a considerable scale. On one occasion the Senate formally barred a group of ambassadors from borrowing any more cash at Rome because they were simply handing it out to buy senatorial support. Jugurtha spent freely to win backing for killing his brothers and seizing
sole power, and is supposed to have claimed that Rome was ‘a city up for sale, and doomed to speedy destruction if it ever found a buyer’.16
The Numidian king was one of many monarchs to travel to Rome to present their case in person. Such royal visitors were the most prestigious petitioners of all, but that did not in itself ensure either that they would be received or that they would get what they wanted. Jugurtha arrived without his royal regalia, wearing clothes intended to excite pity. Roman senators felt themselves more than equals to any king and expected the monarchs to act accordingly, so that pomp and ceremony were unlikely to create a good impression. In 167–166 BC Prusias II of Bythinia exploited this sentiment in a way that the historian Polybius found contemptible. When Roman ambassadors came to his own court he shaved his head and donned the cap, toga and Roman-style shoes worn at Rome by a slave receiving his freedom, and claimed, ‘In me you see your freedman who wishes to endear himself and imitate all things Roman.’ When he travelled to Rome and was granted an audience in the Senate he prostrated himself on the floor of the chamber and hailed the senators as ‘saviour gods’. For Polybius this made it ‘impossible for anyone after him to surpass him in unmanliness, womanishness, and servility’, but he did receive a favourable response, while a rival prince who came to Rome a little later was not even given an audience.17
Pax Romana Page 15
