While Hannibal was in no position to storm the city, much less to take it by siege, his shock attack might have scared a traitor into opening a gate. It might have shaken loose one or more of Rome’s central-Italian allies. It might have impressed the Carthaginian government enough to send adequate reinforcements. It might have done any number of things to bring a better outcome than Hannibal got.
At the moment that called for the height of audacity, Hannibal shrank back. It was his biggest mistake and it greatly reduced his chances of victory.
In the years following Cannae, Carthage opened a second front in Sicily and tried, without success, to open another in Sardinia. It reinforced its army in Spain, where Rome had opened a second front of its own. This took the focus off the Italian campaign, to disastrous effect. During the entire Second Punic War, Carthage sent about eighty thousand troops to Sardinia, Sicily, and Spain, and only four thousand to Hannibal. He might very well have won the war with those additional troops.
Much of the fault for Hannibal’s ultimate failure lies with Carthage’s government, which had priorities outside Italy. But Hannibal himself was not blameless. He too looked outside Italy for victory. After the Carthaginian government refused to send him the reinforcements he requested in 215 B.C., perhaps he decided to bow to political reality. He had huge influence in other theaters of war through his brothers’ commands in Spain and his connections to important men in Sicily. And he negotiated an alliance with Philip V of Macedon.
None of it worked. Neither Carthage’s admirals nor its generals were up to the task. Carthage had no other Hannibals.
But Rome had the capacity to come up with Scipio Africanus. He copied Hannibal’s best qualities but added political and strategic skill to them. The result, after a long struggle, was total victory for Rome.
No one could say that Divine Providence favored Hannibal in the Second Punic War, but it did allow him to achieve something in failure that neither Alexander nor Caesar achieved in success. Providence made Hannibal a greater statesman than he was a general.
Various anecdotes circulated about Hannibal in exile. It’s dangerous to set too much store by them. But if they are true, they suggest that Hannibal retained his intelligence and his charm even as he grew increasingly bitter.
One story says that Scipio came to Ephesus, a city in Anatolia, on an embassy to Antiochus and met Hannibal. Scipio asked Hannibal who the greatest general of all time was. Alexander, said Hannibal, because he achieved so much with such a small army and because he traveled such vast distances. Second came Pyrrhus because of his talent for choosing the right battleground and deploying his men well, and because of his skill at winning the support of Italians for him, a foreigner. Hannibal ranked himself third.
Then Scipio asked what Hannibal would have said if Hannibal had defeated him. Without missing a beat, the story goes, Hannibal replied that, in that case, he would consider himself the greatest general of all.
It was a graceful compliment and shrewd—“Punic wit,” as Livy says. But Hannibal did not give it up easily. He was too politically astute to make an enemy of Scipio, but Hannibal proved less polite when he wasn’t facing Rome’s greatest general.
The story goes that his hosts in Ephesus invited Hannibal to a lecture by the renowned philosopher Phormio. He spoke on generalship and wowed everyone except Hannibal. Excusing himself first as a Phoenician speaker whose Greek was imperfect, he then stuck in the knife. Hannibal “said that he had seen many doddering old men but he had never seen anyone more senile than Phormio.”
If the tale is true, it reveals a man of wit who used diplomacy only to soften up the audience for bluntness. He was angry too and maybe sensitive to his own age, since he was in his midfifties at the time, an age that his two heroes, Alexander and Pyrrhus, never reached.
CAESAR
Caesar was mature. That’s one of the main reasons for his success. Unlike Alexander or Hannibal, each of whom was a supreme commander in his twenties, Caesar did not hold supreme command until his early forties. That was in Gaul; he was fifty when he crossed the Rubicon and began the civil war.
Caesar had other advantages as well compared with Alexander and Hannibal. He came last of the three, and so he could learn from his predecessors’ mistakes. When he began the civil war, he had the experience, the self-confidence, and the veterans of one of the most successful military campaigns in history, the conquest of Gaul.
Gaul made up for what might have been a disadvantage for Caesar—he was more or less a self-made man. Caesar was neither a king nor the son of a famous warrior father. True, he came from an aristocratic family with important connections, but he had to rise on his own talent. That, as much as his family’s tradition, may explain the rapport with the common man that Caesar always had, and that earned him so much political capital.
But it was his status as a mature adult that really set Caesar apart from the other two commanders. He had seen enough of life to be surprised by very little of it. He had nothing to prove in battle; he would just as soon win the war by bribery and payoffs. “To know all is to forgive all,” as the saying goes, and Caesar had known a great deal by the age of fifty. That may help explain his policy of clemency.
Perhaps his age also contributed to Caesar’s famous speed. He was an old man in a hurry. Caesar conquered the Roman empire and won the civil war in just a little more than four years. It took Alexander nine years to conquer the Persian empire, and an advance force of Philip’s army had been softening up the Persians for two years before Alexander began. Hannibal’s war with Rome lasted seventeen years.
Caesar’s long life also let him show the extraordinary range of his talent. Unlike the other two commanders, he was a successful domestic politician before he became a general. He knew how to use all the levers of power. He was also an outstanding public speaker. Alexander and Hannibal were literate men, but only Caesar wrote books—brilliant books. Even two thousand years later, his Commentaries are classic works of military narrative and political propaganda.
These talents helped Caesar greatly but they also entailed costs. On the one hand, he had mastered the art of outdoing his rivals or making an end run around them. And he raised communication to an art form. On the other hand, he identified too closely with the class from which he had risen. In spite of his populist tendencies, he was every inch a Roman aristocrat. Caesar still wanted the admiration and respect of the noble peers over whom he eventually towered. He was no longer one of them but he couldn’t accept the fact.
And yet, unlike Alexander or Hannibal, Caesar had learned that there was more to life than battlefield triumphs. He knew how satisfying it was to enact laws that made his country better. So, after winning the civil war, he enacted many new laws.
Caesar failed to solve the political problems of the Roman republic that caused the civil war in the first place. Yet he showed more interest in governing than Alexander did even if, in the end, Caesar followed Alexander by opting out. Both men preferred new wars abroad to the messy and frustrating business of governing at home. Still, some of Caesar’s reforms had consequences that lasted for centuries—and, in the case of his calendar, for thousands of years. He came as close to combining military and political success as any of the three commanders did.
Like Hannibal, Caesar took moderate risks in battle. He proved immensely cautious on the strategic level, though. He didn’t make a big move without thinking ahead two, three, even five or ten moves. For instance, after winning control of Italy in 49 B.C., he didn’t turn eastward before first conquering Spain. On the operational level, by contrast, Caesar was a daredevil. From his late autumn crossing of the Adriatic in 49 B.C. to his leap into battle in Alexandria in 48 to his scattershot crossing from Sicily to Africa in 46, Caesar took big chances. He had every reason to fail but, again and again, he succeeded. He attributed his success to the good fortune of Caesar, but we may look for the hand of Divine Providence.
Caesar’s battle tactics had nothing of th
e elegance of Alexander’s or Hannibal’s, but the Romans rarely were elegant in war. Cavalry was never a Roman strong suit, and their infantry was powerful and flexible but rarely balletic. Fortunately for Caesar, most of his enemies were Romans too. He had considerable advantages over them. A large number of his men were veterans and they were buoyed by their success in Gaul.
As a commander, Caesar was a great improviser, whether against Pompey’s cavalry at Pharsalus or his own men’s near-mutinous behavior at the start of Thapsus. He never lost his nerve, whether in the face of deadly Numidian cavalrymen at Ruspina or the sudden specter of defeat at Munda.
And he was a great leader of men. Caesar’s soldiers loved him. Few generals could have kept their army together through the near-starvation conditions of Dyrrachium or the long march that followed defeat there. Only a commander with political instincts as sharp—and as cold-blooded—as Caesar’s would then have rewarded them by granting permission for them to sack a city. To turn to another occasion, only Caesar had the oratorical skill to end a mutiny with a single word.
Logistics was not Caesar’s strong suit, as shown both by Dyrrachium and the North African campaign. He should have paid more attention to infrastructure. But he certainly knew the importance of money, as shown by his actions everywhere, especially in Egypt and the Near East. And organizational skill will take a general only so far. Pompey was a great organizer but he lacked Caesar’s killer instinct. Pompey was too cautious, for example, to take the risk of trying to finish off Caesar after getting him on the run at Dyrrachium. Caesar would never have held back.
Caesar won the civil war by audacity, talent, and sheer will. He lost the peace through frustration and arrogance. Political bickering in the Roman Forum was a huge comedown from smart salutes in a military camp. Caesar must surely have been relieved in March 44 B.C. as he readied to leave Rome for three years of war in the East.
And then, there was the problem of his arrogance. Caesar refused to understand how insulted the other Romans were by his “clemency” or, if he understood it, he refused to believe that anyone would have the guts to touch him. So he dismissed his bodyguard and died on the Ides of March.
A leader must listen not only to his heart and his head; he must have his finger on the pulse of the body politic. In the end, Caesar communed only with himself and with the gods whom he thought were on his side. Like Alexander, he fell prey to delusions of grandeur and omnipotence.
FAIREST OF THEM ALL?
Three great commanders, but which of them was the greatest? When it comes to ambition and audacity, we are spoiled for choice. All three unleashed terror on civilians. All three were guided by the hand of Divine Providence. And yet, certain differences stand out.
Hannibal was probably the greatest commander, both in combat and in the field. He carried out one of the most elegant and destructive examples of victory by envelopment in the annals of military history—Cannae. If Philip and Alexander began the art of battlefield mobility, Hannibal brought it to perfection. Then too, Hannibal held his army together for fifteen years in Italy without a mutiny. That was true leadership.
Hannibal was also the worst strategist. Caesar was probably the best. Not only did he conquer the Roman empire quickly, in little more than four years, he did so methodically and by design. His good judgment was all but unfailing. Alexander was a great strategist as well but he made a major blunder against Memnon and the Persian fleet. Only the intervention of Divine Providence saved him. Nor did Alexander know when or how to end the war. He continued fighting far too long.
Both Alexander and Caesar showed deep insight into the stages of war, but Caesar wins this prize. He indulged in nothing as unnecessary and draining as Alexander’s wars in Sogdiana and India. Hannibal did not understand the stages of war.
Alexander was nearly as good a field commander as Hannibal and nearly as good a strategist as Caesar. When it came to military operations, he was the most adaptable and agile. He was also the most successful manager of logistics and infrastructure. He started out broke and ended up the richest man in the world. He always had plenty of manpower.
Alexander was without peer when it came to branding. Caesar’s name is unforgettable and his success is stamped on every page of his Commentaries. But Alexander was selling youth and charisma—literal charisma, in its original sense of divine grace. Neither the wit of Veni Vidi Vici nor the force of Hannibal as Hercules can compare with that.
Conquerors rarely make good peacemakers and they are even worse as administrators. Hannibal did succeed as an administrator but not as a conqueror. Alexander showed remarkable grandeur of vision for his new empire, but he paid so little attention to the practical details that it collapsed on his death. He changed the world by ending the Persian empire and laying the foundation for the Hellenistic kingdoms, but they went their own way rather than following his stamp.
Caesar closed the door on the Roman republic and its limited liberty. He was Rome’s first post-republican king, even if he avoided the term. Caesar left an heir, Octavian, the later Augustus, to complete the project that he began. Finally, however flawed and arrogant his policy of clemency was, he pardoned his enemies rather than execute them. He deserves credit for that.
All in all, Caesar was the greatest of antiquity’s great commanders. Hannibal is the hero of lost causes and perfect battles. Alexander has an unmatched star quality. Caesar, for all his flaws, came closest to statesmanship.
Found in Pergamum, Turkey, this bust of Alexander is a reproduction from the third century B.C. of an original from Alexander’s lifetime. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)
This section of a large mosaic from Pompeii shows Alexander the Great, armed and on horseback, about to confront Darius in battle, probably at Issus in 333 B.C. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)
The same mosaic shows King Darius III of Persia in his chariot, with a look of terror in his eyes, about to face Alexander. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)
This silver tetradrachm coin from the era of Alexander the Great shows the king in profile, wearing the lion skin of Heracles (Hercules). (Berlin/Art Resource, NY)
A carved relief in the royal palace of Persia’s capital city, Persepolis, depicts soldiers of the Persian king. Alexander burned the palace in 330 B.C. (Serhan Güngör)
A Carthaginian silver double shekel issued by the Barcas in Spain, probably around 230 B.C. It advertises their power by showing the Punic god Melqart as Heracles, with a club over his shoulder, on the front and a war elephant on the rear. (British Museum)
This marble bust from Capua may possibly represent Hannibal, the great Carthaginian commander. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)
A bronze bust from Herculaneum said to represent Scipio Africanus, the man who defeated Hannibal. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)
Foundations of Punic houses line the slope of Byrsa Hill, the acropolis of ancient Carthage. In the distance lies the great city’s harbor. (Barry Strauss)
This marble bust shows Julius Caesar with a strong, weather-beaten face and a receding hairline. (Vanni/Art Resource, NY)
A silver denarius coin, struck in 44 B.C., depicting Caesar wearing a victory wreath. He bears the title of DICT PERPETUO, that is, dictator for life. (Yale University Art Gallery/Art Resource, NY)
A marble bust of Caesar’s great opponent Pompey, who was defeated at the Battle of Pharsalus. (Bildarchiv Preussischer Kulturbesitz/Art Resource, NY)
The ruined columned bases of the Basilica Julia march across the center of this photo of the Roman Forum. The basilica was a large public building originally dedicated by Caesar in 46 B.C. and funded by spoils from Gaul. (Barry Strauss)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Michael Fronda and Jacob Nabel read through the manuscript and made valuable comments. Adrienne Mayor, Josiah Ober, Jan Parker, Matthew Sears, David Teegarden, and Kevin Weddle did the same for individual chapters. Thanks to C. R. Zwolinski for developmental and line editing and for coaching my writing.
I benefited
greatly from conversations with and comments by Andrew Amato, Hans Beck, David Blome, Max Boot, Flaminia Cervesi, Judith Dupre, Robert Faulkner, Michael Fontaine, Richard Fontaine, Charlie Goldberg, Victor Davis Hanson, Jayne Hanlin, Chris Harper, Bart Howard, Bettany Hughes, Isabel Hull, John Hyland, Ann E. Killebrew, Stephen Kling, Damien Lazar, Christopher Lynch, Sturt Manning, Luciana Mariotti, Kim McKnight, Katherine Milne, Ian Morris, Waller R. Newell, Brandon Olson, Marissa Valle Pittaluga, Richard Polenberg, Hunter Rawlings, Joseph Roisman, Jeffrey Rusten, Philip Sabin, Walter Scheidel, J. R. Son, Rob Tempio, Viviana Valenti, and Theodora Zemek.
Serhan Güngör provided friendship and expert guidance along the path of Alexander in Turkey. The American School of Classical Studies at Athens first set me on Alexander’s footsteps in Greece long ago. Jim Zurer supplied professional travel advice about Italy. Susan Dixon does a great job with my Web site. Suzanne Lang provides invaluable secretarial and logistical assistance.
It is a pleasure to thank the faculty, students, and staff of the departments of history and classics at Cornell, as well as the staff of the John M. Olin Library there.
My agent, Cathy Hemming, gave sage advice every step of the way, from first idea to finished manuscript. My editor, Bob Bender, gave the manuscript his wise and careful touch, aided by his assistant, Johanna Li.
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