by Ian Miller
Damascus was also a centre for craftsmen. The forests provided plentiful charcoal for smelting ores, and as a consequence of the continual fighting, the production of swords had provided guaranteed incomes from time immemorial. The ores near Damascus seemed to be superior to other sources of iron, hence some of the finest swords in the world came from Damascus. Since the steelworkers were extremely skilled, Gaius realized that some of them might be able to make other items of interest to him. Shortly, he would make their acquaintance.
People had been fighting over these ancient lands for thousands of years. Where water was available, this land permitted truly luscious greenery, while in the north, away from the rivers, rains provided winter greenery. Further to the south, however, the mountains cut out the rain, and a truly harsh desert developed. In between the desert and the northern river regions, a light green was the best that could be managed following the occasional winter rain. Once the effects of the rain had dried out, however, the land varied from having a cover of brown straw to ground with a little dried up thorny vegetation, barely food for a goat. Much of the other ground was barren, rocky, some of it volcanic with ancient cinder cones, in short, in the absence of water, it was valueless. Perhaps that was why they had been fighting; possession of the water gave one power over vast tracts of terrain. That power enabled the wielders to draw the very life-blood from those who actually produced something. Riches came from ownership of land, from taking from others, with the peasants as resource of frequent resort.
It was only many years later that Gaius realized that Rome operated on a similar principle, for Rome imported huge amounts and exported significantly less. In Rome's eyes, Rome sold law and order, and civilization. In this region, Rome might just have to earn its tributes.
From what he had heard, the region remained unstable, particularly in the south. The Jewish tetrarch, Herod Antipas had finally arranged a peace treaty of sorts with the Parthians, but thanks to his earlier divorce, the Nabateans were making threatening noises towards the Jews, while the Jews themselves were divided. In particular, a group of religious fanatics called the Zealots were seemingly always making noises that could be interpreted as the seeds of revolt. All of which spelt trouble! Still, Gaius thought to himself, fighting was a good means of launching a military career, as long as one was successful. An ominous chill ran down his back as he recalled that fighting in this part of the world was also a good way of terminating a military career, as Marcus Licinius Crassus had discovered.
"So," Vitellius stared at him, when he reported. "A friend of the Princeps, eh?"
"I think that may be an exaggeration, sir," Gaius said quietly.
"He informed me that you were the first to recognize him as Princeps," Vitellius said, his face completely devoid of expression. From his point of view, a friend of the Princeps could be anything. An experienced sycophant was the last thing a Legion needed. His problem was that the Claudians were the most dangerous family in Rome. This was one of those many situations where even a Governor did not want to come out on the wrong side.
"I may have had that honour, but I was merely repeating Tiberius' comments."
"Which, Caesar informed me, really meant anything but how you interpreted them."
"Then I'm pleased to have been so lucky."
"Well, young Claudius, you can't be too lucky in this part of the world." He paused, then when Gaius did not respond, he asked, "I understand you've had some teaching in tactics, strategy, and so on?"
"Yes, Governor."
"So you think you're a gift from the Gods to the legions?"
"I doubt that," Gaius muttered.
"So do I," Vitellius sighed. He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Tell me, have you met your Legate?"
"Actually, no," Gaius admitted.
"And why not? Isn't that the first thing you should have done?"
"I tried to," Gaius replied, now somewhat embarrassed.
"I tried to . . ." Vitellius taunted. "You want to conquer the world, no doubt, and you can't find your own commander in your own camp?"
Gaius stiffened under the rebuke. His career might be over before it started, but he would defend his ability. "I reported to his tent several times," he said firmly, staring Vitellius in the eye, "but I was refused admission by the guards. The guards had orders from a superior of mine, so they had to stand. I tried to meet him when he made his rounds this morning, but somehow I missed him, and I tried to intercept him last night when he went into the city, but . . well, he . . ."
"He evaded you. Do you know why you missed his morning inspection?"
"I presume he had altered his route and I was in the wrong place."
"There was no right place," Vitellius spat. "From what I gather, he was drunk in his cot. So, what do you think about that?"
"It is not my place to comment on a superior," Gaius said stiffly.
"It's your place to follow the direct order of the highest superior." Vitellius said, his expressionless eyes seemingly boring into Gaius' very soul.
"Then," Gaius said, again very formally, "it appears you may have a problem also."
"You think so, do you," Vitellius nodded. "That man, if he could be so called, is a descendent of the great Scipio Africanus. He's nothing but a blot on that great house." He paused, thought for a moment, then began to smile as he made a dramatic change of subject. "Now, what do you think about religion?" His eyes again stared into the young Tribune.
"Well . . I . . ."
"Typical Roman response!" Vitellius grinned widely. "You don't believe, but you don't want to say so in case you're wrong!"
"There is a bit to that," Gaius admitted, now wondering where this was taking him.
"More'n a bit," Vitellius snorted. "It's a fair enough attitude, but not one that's widely held in this part of the world."
"I don't quite see what you're saying, sir?"
"Don't worry, young Claudius," Vitellius continued to grin at Gaius' discomfort. "I'm not sending you on temple duties." He paused, then leaned forward and said, "Now listen. If you take nothing else on board from me, remember this. You're in a hotbed of religious fervour. Religion's the only thing that matters here. You could raze their crops, kill their animals, rape their women, burn down their houses, and they'd stare sullenly at you, but scoff at their temple or their priests, and you will start a revolt. And, young Claudius, I really don't need a revolt. Do you understand?"
"Yes, and no."
"Well, which is it?" Vitellius growled.
"I understand the need to avoid a revolt," Gaius replied evenly, "but I don't understand why a religious slight is worse than getting your house burned down."
"Nobody understands their religious fervour!" Vitellius laughed. "And, I'll be honest with you, nobody really knows how to avoid insulting the Jews. They take offence at the strangest things." He paused, then asked, with a face totally devoid of expression, "Tell me, what do you know about Cristus?"
"Nothing, sir," Gaius admitted. "Who or what is or was Cristus?" He was becoming a little worried. Everything he said seemed to count against him, but there was no point in lying.
"He was a religious teacher," Vitellius shrugged. "He rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, proclaiming himself king of the Jews."
"A donkey?" Gaius asked in disbelief, then after a few moments had passed in which nothing happened, he realized he should be showing more interest in the military aspects of this problem, so he asked, "How many troops?"
"In the sense you mean, none," Vitellius smiled. "There were no arms anywhere, and from what I can figure out, he was preaching peace on Earth."
"I suppose that's not the worst he could do," Gaius said with a puzzled expression. Where was this going?
"It wasn't," Vitellius grinned even wider at the obvious discomfort on the young face before him. "He told the Jews they should pay Caesar's taxes."
"I don't quite see why that's a problem."
"The priests accused him of treason, for claiming t
o be the Jewish Messiah, the son of God who would save the Jews."
"That's a bit more seditious," Gaius nodded. "I assume he didn't make much headway." He paused again, then as he realized there was another question he should have asked, he continued, "What was the evidence?"
"You miss the point," Vitellius replied. "There's been something like a hundred claimants to be Messiah, and they usually end up dead because apparently if you want to fulfil the prophecy about the Messiah, you have to be killed."
"Unattractive prophecy," Gaius remarked. "If you have to be killed to fit the part, why so many takers?"
"Answer that and you're starting to come to grips with this part of the world."
"So, this Cristus. What happened to him?"
"He was accused of sedition, and taken before the Prefect Pilate. Tell me, what do you know of Prefects?"
"Not a lot," Gaius said. Now was not the time to report his experience with Flaccus.
"How long do you think a Prefect holds his position?"
"Usually, eighteen months to four years," Gaius replied. He was pleased to be able to show that he knew something. It was then that he remembered Flaccus, and he started wondering whether Vitellius was going to embarrass him.
"Guess how long Pilate held his?" Vitellius asked with a penetrating stare.
"Six months?" Gaius hazarded.
"Try ten years." Vitellius smiled at his newest charge's clear discomfort, so he added, "In this part of the world, such appointments are filled by people who tend to be forgotten by Rome. In this case, you can reasonably assume that Tiberius really didn't care."
"How could you say that?" Gaius said, then clearly wished he had not.
"Tiberius appointed Senator Lamia as Governor of Syria," he shrugged, "and then he ordered the Governor to stay in Rome. Accordingly for quite some time, Syria didn't even have a Governor."
"But surely someone was in charge?"
"Oh yes," Vitellius nodded. "If it cheers you up any, even if someone is grossly negligent in his duties, even to the extent of not turning up, someone steps into the breach and the Roman Empire still works. Doesn't that make you feel good?"
"I'm not sure I follow." Where was this going?
"You have already noted your Legate might as well be somewhere else," Vitellius said. "If you show any signs of life, you'll step up and take as much responsibility as you can."
"I'll do my . . ."
"Yes, I thought you might be eager. Beginners always are! The question is, can you do what is required?" He paused, and his eyes bored into Gaius. Gaius stood his ground, and said nothing. Vitellius nodded, and continued, "For that we shall have to see. Anyway, back to this Pilate. Let's see what you make of this. When Pilate arrived in Judea, he landed in Caesarea. He went to Jerusalem, ordered two newly arrived cohorts to come to Jerusalem for the winter, then he went back to Caesarea. What do you make of this so far?"
"He should have at least met the Jewish king, um, isn't it Herod?"
"Yes, he should, and in fact he did. I forgot to mention that. He did that immediately, then he went to Caesarea," Vitellius nodded.
Gaius thought for a moment. It almost seemed that what Pilate did was not the issue, because Vitellius had not bothered to let him know the correct things he had done. It must be something else. He should not have left, but why not? His knowledge of the region was not good, but he knew there had not been a major uprising. It was then that he had an inspiration. It was what Vitellius had said.
"I think Pilate should have stayed in Jerusalem until his troops had arrived," he said at last.
"Why?" Vitellius asked tartly. But Gaius had seen his eyes flicker, and he knew he was on the right track.
"So that he could make clear to his troops not to carry out some sort of religious insult, and better still, consult with the priests and find out what comprised a religious insult."
"Ha! You've been listening! You pass the first test. You shall be rewarded, although whether you think what I'm going to give you is a reward is another matter. Guess what happened?"
"There was a religious insult."
"Hmmph!" Vitellius grunted, then after a short pause he shook his head slightly and continued, "I suppose you could hardly be expected to guess. This shows what it's like in this part of the world. The cohorts marched into Jerusalem, as usual bearing their standards, and they stopped somewhere near this wretched temple the Jews seem to get so excited about. Their religion forbids 'graven images' of other Gods, and these standards were considered images. There was nearly a riot, and it took six days before Pilate ordered them removed. Why do you think it took so long?"
"Three days to Caesarea, three days back," Gaius said confidently.
"Correct," Vitellius nodded. Although Gaius could not know this, for Vitellius' face gave no clue, he was rather pleased. This young man might be green, and who was not when they started their career, but he was alert, he could accept subtle clues, in short, he might be useful. His nightmare had been that in addition to a drunken Legate he would have to put up with an ostentatious Claudian bungler. "So, because of this perceived religious slight, we nearly had an open revolt. I hope you're taking this on board, because I really do not wish to have a revolt on my hands caused by your incompetence."
"No sir," Gaius agreed. There was little else he could say.
"On the other hand, I do not wish you to be petrified by inaction," Vitellius continued. "Here's one for you. King Herod, a Jewish king, you note, ordered the building of an aqueduct to bring water to Jerusalem, and he and the priests authorized the use of sacred money known as the Qorban to build it. Pilate helped organize things, and eventually as progress continued, the Jews encircled his headquarters and almost revolted."
"I'm not sure I follow," Gaius said, after Vitellius had clearly stopped to invite a comment. "I can't see what Pilate did wrong."
"I can't either," Vitellius shrugged. "It seems that his advisor, the senior priest called Caiaphas, had had his nose put out of joint for something. Anyway, it was probably more out of joint a little later. Pilate had a cohort of soldiers dressed as Jews, and they suddenly started laying into the real Jews with clubs. They killed a number, broke a lot of bones, and generally put down the riot quite brutally. What do you think of that?"
Gaius thought for a moment, and then said, "Pilate knew this riot was coming fairly well in advance, otherwise the troops wouldn't have been able to have the disguises available in time, without everybody knowing how they got them."
Now Vitellius was surprised. He had raised the question more as one of morality and ethics, and he had always accepted the account at face value. It had never occurred to him that there might have been an undercurrent.
"Quite so," Vitellius nodded. "So, back to this Cristus. Caiaphas now brings this Galilean before Pilate and accuses this Cristus of wanting to be King of the Jews. You can assume Caiaphas would have corrupted Pilate and there was an angry crowd outside."
"Surely something could be done about that . . ."
"Added to which," Vitellius interrupted, "he has access to one cohort of auxiliaries close by, and can call on another, and maybe some cavalry, within a month. What should Pilate have done?"
"Presumably he could call on legionary help?"
"To try a Jew for crimes the local religious leaders had already found him guilty of?"
"To enforce Roman law," Gaius corrected.
"In which case evidence of his corruption would have been made public. In any case, Tiberius was hardly likely to be interested in one Jew with a religious bent."
"He might have been interested in getting his taxes paid," Gaius countered.
"There was never a question of their not being paid," Vitellius smiled at the fact that the young man had finally answered back. "Fighting that would bring in a legion."
"So the local religious leaders have found this Cristus guilty of . . . what?"
"Sedition, or more likely, guilty of not directing his attention towards getting rid of
the Roman occupation."
"Which is hardly a crime," Gaius muttered, "but I presume finding him not guilty was not an option for our Pilate."
"Of course it was an option," Vitellius snorted. "It might have started another riot, but he had put down riots before."
"But this might have been a bigger one?"
"Would you back down before such a threat?"
"I'd have told this Caiaphas that accusing an innocent person of sedition was sedition," Gaius replied coldly. "Someone was going to be crucified if he proceeded, and offer him the opportunity to back out."
"That'd get a riot going," Vitellius snorted.
"And I'd have to put it down," Gaius replied. "I may have played for time first, to ensure I had enough troops on hand. So what did Pilate do?"
"He apparently decided that since Caiaphas wanted this so badly, he would sacrifice this man for the greater good, at least the greater good of Pilate. There will be little doubt that he made sure Caiaphas acknowledged that this was an important debt. Anyway, to get back to our tale, eventually Pilate got around to finding this Cristus guilty of claiming to be King of the Jews, hence of wishing to have his own unauthorized kingdom within the Roman empire. There were about a hundred thousand witnesses."
"And they all testified against him," Gaius muttered in disgust.
"So, you're Pilate. You find him guilty. What now?"
"I suppose crucifixion."
"Exactly. Now, ask yourself why the hundred thousand bore witness?"
"Because they're pathetic . . ."
"Wrong! Because they knew this Cristus had no intention whatsoever of leading a revolt against Rome."
"But . . ?"
"This Cristus died because he was gaining enough popularity that he was becoming a leader, he was filling the role of Messiah, and he refused to revolt against Rome."
"I see," Gaius nodded. In fact he did not see at all, but he felt he had to say something.
"I really doubt it," Vitellius shrugged. "I don't. You know what his followers are saying?"
