The great poet Virgil wrote his epic Aeneid in the Age of Augustus. Centered on the founding of Rome via its pious hero Aeneas, it has been approached in two broad ways in the latter part of the 20th century: the “Harvard School” approach and the “optimistic” approach (each referred to by various names). The former view finds in the epic a melancholic and pessimistic voice—one that speaks in subversive, albeit subtle, tones about Augustus and the new Golden Age. The latter approach reads it as a proud display of Rome’s glorification and success, which ultimately is for the greater good. Such is a simplification of the debate but serves to show the contrasting (and often disparate) views about the domination of the Roman Empire. And indeed it is a complex matter. How are we to understand the imperialism of ancient Rome?
This is a central question of Adrian Goldsworthy’s Pax Romana: War, Peace and Conquest in the Roman World. Goldsworthy has written a number of books on ancient Rome; his previous one was Augustus: From Revolutionary to Emperor (2014). This book, Pax Romana, examines the prolonged success of the empire, its notions of peace, what it took to maintain its position and status in the ancient world, and what it was like for those people being subsumed into the world of Rome. All of these issues have been written on extensively and fiercely debated. But Goldsworthy’s book is neither a polemical one nor one written with a tendency towards hyperbole. As he makes clear, his intention is not to “give lessons for the modern world based on the Roman experience.” He makes good on this claim with judicious, well-supported writing.
In the first part of the book, Goldsworthy discusses not only how Rome grew into the empire that it did, but, as importantly, how it first became a dominant community among a number of others. In this discussion, and at other points in the book, Goldsworthy makes certain to dispel a notion sometimes held about Rome: that it was a hyper-aggressive, vicious, and cruel power always bent on violence. Goldsworthy doesn’t deny that the Romans were incredibly ambitious, and that at times this involved the use of heavy force. But to view the Romans as unique in this matter is both inaccurate and distorted. “The ancient world was a dangerous, warlike place,” Goldsworthy writes, but “so were almost all of its neighbors.”
Indeed Rome’s rise was not an easy one. Rome began life as little more than a small community, struggling for survival, yet grew into a superpower of the highest order — a degree of transformation which does not happen through sheer violence (nor by mere chance or luck, though some scholars have suggested as much). For Goldsworthy these kinds of claims are insufficient, and sweep aside facts that must be taken into account. One undeniable fact is Rome’s unusually long-lasting place in the ancient world.
Among other notable discussions in the first part of the book are those sections which explore the idea of amicitia (friendship). In the context of Rome’s relations to its “friends,” Rome took the higher position of the two parties. As Goldsworthy explains, this was in keeping with the meaning of the term amicus, which was, “strictly speaking, reserved for the less important man who sought association…” What this meant, then, was reciprocity in favor of Rome. The amici of the Romans would be respectful of Roman interests, as well as provide military support when needed. The Romans, in return, would offer a spirit of goodwill and (at times) gifts and other offerings. Emissaries from Rome’s amici might also have a more favorable chance of being heard. Friendship with Rome carried both great benefits and heavy burdens.
In the second half of the book Goldsworthy turns to the Principate. It was Augustus, the young thirty-three-year-old when he came to power, who would propel Rome out of a constant state of civil war and into a time of prosperity and peace. “Peace came from victory and strength, and prestige so overwhelming that in [the] future no aggressor would dare risk going to war.” Goldsworthy provides interesting discussions not only on Augustus’s immense ambitions (he “added more territory to the empire than anyone else in Rome’s history”) but also how pax was portrayed during his reign.
Literature, among other factors, played a role in this. Ovid, for example, even though he was “one of the least martial of Roman poets,” understood and acknowledged the “peace that came from Roman victory.” Augustus and what he symbolized was also projected and disseminated through visual displays. His image populated streets and towns and was visible for all to see. “Whether on coin or as a bust, statue, sculpted relief or painting,” Augustus was there.
There are so many other important discussions in this excellent book by Goldsworthy. Though Pax Romana is written in an unadorned style which can, in places, make for some relatively dull reading, the rich amount of information Goldsworthy provides more than makes up for it. There is also a very helpful bibliography, along with fifteen detailed maps, which limit confusions about geography. For anyone interested in an in-depth account on the nature of Rome’s imperialism—or, less intensely, a convenient reference to look up matters of particular interest—Pax Romana is a great resource by a highly regarded scholar.
Spectatio 