History


27
Jan 12

Rhetorical Probability

I always find it amusing when I am sitting in a doctor’s office during the middle of the day how the only thing on the TV is a show involving some manner of litigation. I don’t know if Judge Judy is still doing her thing, but there always seems to be some ridiculous sort of court case being televised.

Lest one think this to be something novel to our society, we have nothing on the fifth-century Athenians.

Athenians loved to litigate and argue and dispute with each other. In many ways, it was a form of entertainment, for the juries were large. (between 201 and 501 jurors) The Athenian democracy assumed that you were going to participate, and any man could speak if he wanted.

In fact, if you were involved in the litigation somehow, whether of a civil or criminal manner, you were expected to speak on your own behalf. During this period the idea of a having lawyer with a formal understanding of legal procedures and precedents was unknown. As such, one’s rhetorical ability became a rather important aspect of winning the case. Continue reading →


19
Jan 12

The Light That Never Went Out

What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear the phrase The Dark Ages?

Hordes of barbarians descending over the mountainside, laying waste to a enlightened and ordered society, leaving only violence and lawlessness in their wake?

The utter disintegration of art, learning, science and culture for nearly 400 years?

Unrelenting war, pestilence, savagery, ignorance and barbarity?

The suppression of reason in favor of faith?

The “Dark Ages” (enough of the scare quotes…) are probably one of the most misunderstood periods of history, (an irony, of course, about an age supposedly characterized by ignorance) and often function as a sort of trump card to demonstrate the supposedly disastrous consequences of the age of faith over an age of reason. After all, who wants to be stuck in the Dark Ages?

But were the Dark Ages really all that dark? Edward Gibbon, who is best known for his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, describes what amounts to a veritable Paradisio in the late Roman Empire:

In the second century of the Christian era, the empire of Rome comprehended the fairest part of the earth, and the most civilized portion of mankind. The frontiers of that extensive monarchy were guarded by ancient renown and disciplined valour. The gentle, but powerful, influence of laws and manners had gradually cemented the union of the provinces. Their peaceful inhabitants enjoyed and abused the advantages of of wealth and luxury. The image of a free constitution was preserved with decent reverence. The Roman Senate appeared to possess the sovereign authority, and devolved on the emperors all the executive powers of government. During a happy period of more than four-score years, the public administration was conducted by the virtue and abilities of Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian and the two Antonines.1

Of course, such a rosy picture is hardly an accurate assessment of this period. Unfortunately, this is the sort of idea that is generally juxtaposed with the intervening period when the Roman Empire as it was (or at least as it was conceived to be- more on this later) would be no more. Europe would descend into a black hole of cultural, intellectual and civil disorder, only to scrape itself out 400 years later with the Carolingian Renaissance, the last gasp effort to bring the Roman ideal back to life.

Or perhaps the light never went out. Continue reading →

  1. Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Vol. 1, Ch. 1, pg. 1

8
Jan 12

My Empire for a Pony!

It is a little known fact that the tide of the Peloponnesian War was turned by ponies.

Ok, that is perhaps a bit of an overstatement, but as the Athenians would discover in their utterly disastrous invasion of Sicily, 1200 ponies would bring an invasion force of 45,000 to its ruin.

The war with the Spartans had been going for seventeen grueling years. Despite losing a quarter of its population to a plague, suffering numerous setbacks on both land and sea and expending incalculable amounts of money and manpower in the conflict, Athens had still survived. A dramatic capture of some of Sparta’s elite hoplites had even ensured that the annual incursions into Attica had ceased, leading to a somewhat tenuous peace.

In many ways, Athens was even on the road to recovery, as the horror of the plague began to subside from memory and a rising generation of Athenians looked to a future where the empire could perhaps be extended. Things were not at their worst- Athens still had relative mastery of the seas as the Spartans had yet to be able to enlist Persian support for a fleet to match their enemies, and the relative time of peace had given Athens the chance to replant their crops, refit their armies and rebuild their fleets. Prosperity was not where it had been at the beginning of the war, but seventeen years later many felt the time was ripe for things to turn around. Continue reading →


3
Jan 12

300 (Or, Wearing a Breastplate Keeps You From Being Stabbed.)

As I have been reading through Victor Davis Hanson’s phenomenal work A War Like No Other: How the Athenians and Spartans Fought the Peloponnesian War, I have been thinking back on the cultural connotations associated with Spartans and warfare in general.

Perhaps none is more prominent in recent popular culture than the movie 300, which is a heavily stylized account of the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC in which King Leonidas of the Spartans led 300 Spartans to hold out against incredible odds to withstand a Persian assault.

Of course, there were more than just 300 Spartans defending the pass- there were also 700 Thespians, 400 Thebans and perhaps a few hundred Athenians, but who’s counting? :-)

I won’t begrudge Hollywood its artistic license by any means, and neither is that the intent of this post. Battle scenes have to be exciting, and so a lot of liberties have to be taken. (And to be sure, 300 has some of the most exciting battle scenes in recent memory.) However, as I have been reading about how a Spartan phalanx actually operated, the truth is a lot further from the fiction, and in the end probably would not have made for a very good movie. In fact, it probably would have been a pretty boring movie. Here’s why. Continue reading →


2
Jan 12

Just Make Sure It Will Burn

Words can make things seem far more dramatic than they actually are. For example, what do you think of when you read the following:

Ravaging and pillaging the countryside.

Words like these call up images of massive destruction, of colossal armies leaving nothing but unfettered and unfeeling havoc and pestilence in their wake, a nearly immediate obliteration of rolling farmlands and pristine vistas into a putrid bog fit for nothing but eternal desolation.

But how easy is it to actually ravage and pillage a countryside?

As the Spartans discovered for nearly seven years into the 27 year long Peloponnesian War with Athens: not easy at all. Continue reading →


18
Dec 11

Pronunciation is Important!

The renowned Carthaginian general Hannibal is perhaps best known for his infamous crossing of the Alps to begin his invasion of Italy, but while reading Richard Miles’ Carthage Must Be Destroyed: The Rise and Fall of an Ancient Civilization, I was made aware of an incident that is, in my opinion far more robust in demonstrating the aplomb of Hannibal.

Hannibal had long been entrenched in the Italian countryside, and his tactical and military prowess, as well as the relative incompetence of opposing Roman generals, had determined that few pitched battles took place between Roman and Carthaginian forces. During this period Hannibal used the time to dig in his troops, forge alliances with local Italian cities looking for a better option than Rome, and prepare his forces for a protracted conflict.

The Romans eventually began to switch strategy from open conflict to attempting to provoke small contingents of Carthaginian troops into small scale battles, hoping for a an eventual victory by attrition. The Roman general Fabius was particularly adept at this form of strategy, even though it was quite unpopular among the leaders back at Rome. Nevertheless, Fabius managed to keep his troops in check, even though in grand Roman tradition they were itching for a fight.

Fabius and Hannibal thus engaged in a sort of cat-and-mouse game where Fabius would bring his army into plain sight to provoke an open conflict, even though he never intended one. Hannibal knew that an open battle could prove disastrous at this time, and himself had to keep his army from rushing into the fray. After all, supplies were limited and reinforcements were not immanent.

Plutarch relates how Hannibal made a choice to finally remove his army from Fabius’ reach. Finding native guides, he instructed them to take him to the district of Casinum, an area rich in pasture land. Unfortunately, Hannibal’s pronunciation was quite foreign to the guides, and they heard him say that he wanted to be taken to the district of Casilinum. Without knowing the mistake, the army broke camp and began to relocate.

Hannibal only realized too late that he had actually led his army into a trap. Casilinum was encompassed by high mountains with a river dividing it, lots of marshes, sand- definitely not the ideal location for an army. Essentially, Hannibal became pinned in by the terrain.

While Hannibal was on the move, Fabius was watching and shadowing. Knowing the topography well, he was able to position his troops along the heights surrounding Casilinum, with the remaining contingent cutting off the rear. Having boxed Hannibal in, it appeared that the Carthaginian threat could soon be neutralized.

Hannibal, upon discovering the mistake, was furious and had the guides executed for their mistake. (I find it equally likely that such a ‘mistake’ in hearing his pronunciation may have been a foil for more devious intentions, but that is beside the point.) But Hannibal was nothing if not tenacious and clever. Realizing that Fabius was no fool and that an ambush was immanent, he reached into his tactical bag of tricks and decided on a rather unconventional means of counter-attack.

The entire purpose of relocating to Casinum was to find good pasture land for the large contingent of animals that accompanied the Carthaginian army. Hannibal thus had burning brands attached to the heads of 2000 of the cattle within his supplies and caused them to be driven up the slopes towards the Romans lying in ambush. This occurred in the middle of the night, and the utter shock of this evidently sent the Romans into a frenzy, thinking that a counter-attack was underway. Fabius was not able to maintain control, and the majority of the Roman ambush was dispersed, allowing Hannibal and his army to relocate without further incident.

Disaster could have occurred for Hannibal, all because of a botched pronunciation.

But in the end, it’s all ‘puh-tato’, ‘pah-tat-to,’ right?