Pax Romana
Page 25
Pilate’s tenure in his province lasted for more than a decade, and our sources only record the few moments of major friction. The last of these involved Samaritans rather than Jews and focused on Mount Gerizim. A demagogic leader gathered many people, most of whom were armed, and led them to the site of the destroyed shrine, promising to uncover rich treasures buried there by Moses. Pilate met them with a force of cavalry and infantry, blocking the path up the mountain. Fighting broke out when the first of the Samaritans tried and failed to force their way past the auxiliaries. Pilate launched a vigorous pursuit, killing many and taking prisoners, some of whom were subsequently executed. Leaders from the Samaritan community went to the legate in Syria and protested at this heavy-handed action, which prompted him to order Pilate to return to Rome to explain himself to the emperor. However, Tiberius died before he arrived and none of our sources tell us whether or not the former prefect was investigated for his actions in office.18
Large numbers of people gathering in the open country appear to have triggered an aggressive Roman reaction more often than demonstrations in the cities. Under Cuspius Fadus (procurator AD 44–46), a ‘charlatan named Theudas persuaded the majority of the masses to take up their possessions and to follow him to the Jordan River. He stated that he was a prophet and that at his command the river would be parted and would provide them with an easy passage.’ Fadus sent a cavalry ala which killed or captured them – some 400 people according to the New Testament. Theudas was executed and his head sent back to Jerusalem.19
Under Felix (AD 52–60) another false prophet, this time an Egyptian Jew, gathered far more followers – 30,000 according to Josephus, although only 4,000 in Acts – and led them ‘out into the wilderness’. His plan was to march to the Mount of Olives and then storm Jerusalem, but they were met in open country by Felix and some auxiliary infantry backed by civilian – and so presumably Jewish – volunteers from the city. The Egyptian and some of his close associates escaped the ensuing massacre, and the rest were killed, captured or slipped away to their homes. In this case the group involved were surely armed and certainly intended revolution. This is less clear with Theudas and some of the other leaders who appeared, or indeed with the Samaritans on Mount Gerizim, but the accounts are too brief to reveal how the fighting began. It was possible for large numbers of people to gather in the countryside and listen to charismatic religious leaders like John the Baptist or Jesus without provoking a military response from either the Roman governor or one of the Herods if the gathering occurred in their territory. Neither the aristocratic Josephus, writing after the failure of the Jewish Rebellion, nor the New Testament authors show any sympathy for those killed or arrested in such incidents where a group became violent.20
The auxiliary forces controlled by the equestrian governors were predominantly local men, recruited from the Gentiles of Caesarea and Sebaste. None were well disposed to the Jews, and it is unlikely that a leavening of soldiers from other parts of Syria did anything to change this. Jerusalem was garrisoned by most of one cohort, reinforced by another unit for the great festivals when the city was crowded with pilgrims from all over the world and its population volatile. It was normal practice for sentries to stand guard on top of the porticoes around the Temple and the attached Fortress of Antonia. During the procuratorship of Ventidius Cumanus (AD 48–c.52), one of these men was seen to bend over, lift up the skirts of his tunic and make an obscene noise. Complaints were made, only to be dismissed by Cumanus, especially annoyed because rumours were circulating claiming that he had encouraged the soldier. The next day he paraded his entire force in full armour on the walls of Antonia, causing panic among the worshippers and a stampede in which large numbers were injured or killed – if scarcely the tens of thousands claimed by Josephus.21
Soon afterwards, a force of auxiliaries was sent to punish a village for robbing an imperial slave travelling along the road nearby. Its leading men were arrested, probably on suspicion of harbouring or aiding the criminals, and the houses searched and plundered. One of the soldiers found a copy of the Jewish scriptures and launched into an obscene tirade against the Jews, before tearing up the scroll and throwing the remnants into a fire. The protests that followed were so strong, and probably made by large numbers of important men from Jerusalem, that Cumanus ordered the soldier to be beheaded.22
The next incident brought out all the latent hostility between Jews and Samaritans. A party of Galileans were travelling through Samaria on their way to Jerusalem. There was trouble, and one or more of them were killed by villagers. A formal complaint to the procurator achieved nothing, either because he was too busy or had listened to – and perhaps taken money from – the Samaritans. Frustrated, some of the Galileans began urging people in Jerusalem to take action. Gangs of vigilantes assembled and joined with established bandit leaders to raid Samaria. Some of the attacks occurred before the official protests had run their course. As is so often the case throughout history, these reprisals were inflicted on villages unconnected in any way with the original offence and were particularly vicious, killing old and young indiscriminately. Cumanus mustered contingents from four cohorts of infantry and his ala of cavalry and defeated the largest Jewish band, taking many prisoners. Leaders in Jerusalem helped to calm the situation and persuade the remainder to disperse and return home. In the meantime the Samaritans took their complaints about Cumanus to the legate in Syria, who came to investigate the matter in person, fearing that a rebellion was brewing. He blamed the Samaritans for the initial outbreak and crucified a number of them, before executing several Jews for their part in stirring up trouble. Cumanus was sent to Rome, along with deputations from both sides so that Claudius could investigate the matter fully.
The emperor concurred with his legate in placing most blame on the Samaritans, and ordered several more executions. He also blamed Cumanus for mishandling the situation and sent him into exile. The commander of his cavalry regiment, the ala Sebastinorum, was clearly felt to have behaved with excessive vindictiveness in suppressing the Jewish militants. He was sent back to Jerusalem, where he was publicly humiliated by being dragged around the city and then executed. This was a remarkably severe punishment for a Roman officer of equestrian status. He was either a local notable or had simply absorbed the deep loathing of many of his soldiers for their Jewish neighbours. It does seem to have been clear to Claudius that these predominantly Sebastenian and Caesarean soldiers were a source of trouble, being too ready to humiliate and attack the Jewish community. Earlier in his reign Claudius toyed with the idea of posting all of the auxiliary units in Judaea to distant Pontus and replacing them with other army units, less likely to join in local squabbles. He relented when the two cities sent ambassadors to him asking him to reconsider. Discharged soldiers often settled in the province where they had served, and the city elders may have feared losing so many of their young men and their regular wages. They may also have wanted to keep the regional influence that came from providing the bulk of the governor’s forces.23
On most occasions, successive Roman emperors favoured appeals from the Jewish community, and especially the Jerusalem aristocracy. This was furthered by the influence of the Herods, especially Agrippa I and his son Agrippa II, whether they were in Rome or ruling kingdoms in the east, and whether or not Judaea itself was currently in their charge. Their concern extended to Jews living elsewhere, particularly the large numbers in Alexandria, where there was a substantial, prosperous and well-established community, governed by its own elected leaders and distinct from the Greek majority and the Egyptian minority. That many Alexandrian Jews were fluent in Greek and conversant with Hellenic culture and literature did nothing to prevent persistent hostility between Greek and Jew. Alexandria had long been a turbulent city, frequently subject to rioting which had overthrown and even killed Ptolemaic monarchs. Little changed under Roman rule, and there were men who made careers out of manipulating the mob and using organised bands of partisans to stir up trouble. When
Agrippa I visited on his way to his kingdom, some of the Greeks staged a mock royal procession of their own, dressing a local lunatic in a parody of kingly robes. Riots followed, and the Roman prefect sided with the Greeks and blamed the Jews for the trouble, punishing and plundering them. He was eventually recalled, disgraced and exiled, although Caligula’s distrust of him played as much part in this as his conduct.24
Caesarea was another flashpoint, where a smaller but commercially successful and wealthy Jewish minority lived alongside the Gentile majority in an overtly pagan city. The governor spent more of his time there than anywhere else, increasing the chances for important local men to influence his decisions, and the troops under his command were local men or Sebasteni felt to be on the side of the non-Jewish citizens. Around the middle of the first century AD, the sense that all this gave a marked advantage to their rivals convinced some of the Jewish leaders in the city to lobby for Caesarea to be declared a Jewish community. The tenuous argument rested on its refoundation and development by Herod the Great, ignoring the fact that from the beginning it was overtly ‘Greek’. As in so many divided cities throughout the ages, tension increased as partisans of each side demonstrated and did their best to intimidate their opponents, allowing small matters and real or imagined slights to become important. Younger men formed gangs, jeering at each other, and sometimes threw stones or fought, and over time skirmishes became frequent, in spite of the best efforts of local magistrates and the older leaders in each community. The main Jewish gang gained the advantage, and after one victory failed to disperse when ordered by the procurator Felix. It surely did not help that the soldiers with him were associated with their hated and lately vanquished rivals. The governor ordered his troops to use force, which they did with great, and perhaps excessive, zeal. Felix sent deputations from both sides to Nero, who decided in favour of the Gentiles. In the past emperors had usually favoured Jewish petitions, so this was a surprise even if this time their case was poor.25
Nero declared that Caesarea remain a formally Gentile city, but its population was bitterly divided. Some of the Jews purchased land for a new synagogue, but tried and failed to persuade the Gentile owner of an adjacent plot to sell to them so that they could build an even larger structure. In the end they gave up, modified their plans and by AD 66 had built to the limit of the ground they owned. At the same time, their neighbour decided to develop his site for industry, so that people attending the synagogue would have to file through a narrow alley past rows of noisy, smoke-filled workshops. He was perfectly within his rights to do this, and his motives may have sprung from commercial decisions rather than deliberate provocation. Some young Jewish men tried to drive away the workmen erecting the sheds, until the procurator, Florus, stopped them. At this point a number of prominent Jews paid the governor a substantial sum to have the work stopped, but Florus pocketed the money and left for Sebaste without doing anything to fulfil his side of the bargain.
On the following day, which was a Sabbath, when the Jews assembled at the synagogue, they found one of the Caesarean mischief-makers had placed beside the entrance a pot, turned bottom upwards, upon which he was sacrificing birds. This spectacle of what they considered an outrage upon their laws and a desecration of the spot enraged the Jews beyond endurance. The steady-going and peaceable members of the congregation were in favour of immediate recourse to the authorities; but the fractious folk and the passionate youth were burning for a fight. The Caesarean party, on their side, stood prepared for action, for they had, by a concerted plan, sent the man on to the mock sacrifice, and so they soon came to blows.26
A Roman officer intervened, removing the pot, but failed to prevent further rioting, which prompted some of the Jewish community to flee the city.
This was the incident that helped to spark off the great Jewish Rebellion, when anger at the news, at Florus’ continuing failure to intervene, and then at his seizure of funds from the Great Temple in Jerusalem sparked rioting and, later, armed conflict. The heavy-handedness of the locally recruited auxiliaries and the deep hatred felt for them by many Jews inflamed the situation. One cohort eventually surrendered in Jerusalem, only to be massacred with the sole exception of their commander, an equestrian officer spared perhaps because he was not from Sebaste or Caesarea and also because he promised to convert to Judaism. When news arrived that Jerusalem was openly in rebellion, a mob massacred large numbers of those Jews still living in Caesarea. This in turn provoked ‘parties of Jews’ to attack the Greek cities of the Decapolis – the ten towns of the King James Bible – and any other Gentile settlements within reach, including towns such as Gaza and Ascalon on the coast.27
Josephus tells us that
. . . in the vicinity of each of these cities many villages were pillaged and immense numbers of the inhabitants captured and slaughtered. The Syrians on their side killed no less a number of Jews; they, too, slaughtered those whom they caught in the towns, not merely . . . from hatred, but to forestall the peril which menaced themselves. The whole of Syria was a scene of frightful disorder; every city was divided into two camps . . . They passed their days in blood, their nights . . . in terror.28
Jewish sympathisers were suspected, but allegiances were not always simple, nor did every city succumb to infighting. Tyre killed many of its Jewish inhabitants and imprisoned the rest, but at nearby Sidon there were no executions and no imprisonments. Predictably, rioting erupted in Alexandria, but Antioch was peaceful. At Alexandria the Jewish mob gained the upper hand over the Greek mob until Roman troops were sent in and routed them after a stern fight. The governor of Egypt, a Jew who had left the strict practice of his faith for imperial service, called off the soldiers once peace was restored, but found it harder to restrain Greek civilians from further attacks. At Scythopolis (modern Beit She’an or Beth Shean), the only city of the Decapolis on the western bank of the River Jordan, the Jewish inhabitants of the town joined their neighbours to drive off bands of Jewish raiders. In spite of this, they were then asked to prove their loyalty by camping outside the city. After three days some of their neighbours turned on them and killed them. It is impossible to know what determined events in each place, since local history and the personalities of leaders at the time surely played the central role. For Josephus fear was as important as hatred, and often it was simply greed, with the troubles used as a pretext to murder and plunder wealthy neighbours without fear of consequences. The man acting as regent while Agrippa II was away sent troops to murder a deputation from the Jewish communities in Batanaea who had come asking for protection. Josephus claimed that he did so simply to rob them.29
MURDER, PLUNDER AND POLITICS
The disruption caused by civil war or revolt created opportunities for enrichment, and it is striking that plunder featured in all of the incidents we have discussed. That does not mean that the hatreds and rivalries were any less real, for the desire to injure and kill people belonging to opposing groups is obvious in the sources. In some ways it was a reversion to the conditions in much of the world before the Romans arrived, where raiding was the normal form of warfare, embarked upon whenever there was an opportunity and disliked neighbours – or indeed anyone else worth robbing and who was not considered a friend – appeared vulnerable. When central authority weakened, whether it was Rome’s hold on a region or in areas on the borders between allied kingdoms which did not co-operate well, then raiding broke out, especially where the communities had a tradition of hostility.
Such activity might be led by well-established bandit leaders, given more opportunities by the confusion of the times. During Cumanus’ procuratorship the Jews raiding Samaria enlisted the help of Eleazar, son of Deinaeus, ‘a brigand who for many years had had his home in the mountains’, to lead them. Similar men emerged in AD 66, and in each case others joined them. When Josephus was appointed by the rebel government in Jerusalem to take command in Galilee he hired large numbers of bandits to serve as mercenaries, on the basis that this gave him some cont
rol over them. In the troubled years before the rebellion in AD 66, many leading Jerusalem aristocrats, including the high priests, raised bands of armed followers. Another group to appear were the sicarii – the name comes from the Latin sica or dagger – assassins carrying concealed knives who would strike and then vanish back into the crowd. Their targets were high-profile, which suggests a political agenda, although Josephus claims that they could be hired, even alleging that Felix paid them to kill a high priest. There are also mentions of men able to manipulate the mobs in cities like Alexandria, and some of the gangs of youths who appear were clearly organised and orchestrated.30
The Latin latro (plural latrones) and Greek leistes (plural leistai) are often translated as bandit – or pirate if they happened to operate on water – although the word lacks the strength of the ancient terms. Such men were not simply robbers, for there was always the expectation that they would use violent, often murderous force. They were stock characters in ancient novels, whisking off heroes and heroines and placing them in dreadful peril so that they could be rescued at the eleventh hour. A degree of romanticism sometimes spilled over into historical accounts, and a charismatic bandit leader, more than half Robin Hood for his boldness, mastery of disguise and ingenious plans, appears now and then in historical sources as foil to a bad emperor. Such sympathy is very rare, and even then partial. Latrones and leistes were damning terms for bad men using violence illegitimately. According to Roman law, ‘Enemies are those on whom the Roman people has formally declared war, or who have themselves declared war on the Roman people; the rest are described as bandits or robbers.’31