Review: Rome and the Mediterranean, by Titus Livy

This is the last of Livy’s books I had to read, and is also the last in chronological order, dealing with Rome’s antics primarily in Greece and Asia Minor (with other diversions in Iberia and Italy) during the first half of the 2^nd century BC.

It follows shortly after the end of the Second Punic War, so Hannibal is still around, as is Scipio Africanus, and it’s interesting to note that neither great man ended his days as he perhaps deserved. This is very much a purple patch for Republican Rome, a time of successful wars and expanding influence, the most significant steps since claiming Sicily in the journey to transforming the Mediterranean into a Roman pond.

Livy, as ever, is very easy to read and his mention of sources (often disbelief in lesser historians and backing up some details by citing Polybius as the origin) is useful. Perhaps more than the military endeavours it’s the individual (or cult) human stories that make the greatest impression. Philip V of Macedon and his family squabbles are a true classic tragedy, and the alarming changes and rise of Bacchus’ worshippers was as engaging to read about as it was disturbing.

There’s a pretty much continuous run of wars, primarily focused on Greece. The Romans receive an invitation to thwart Philip’s hegemonic ambitions and, given he sided with Hannibal during the Second Punic War, the Romans are only too pleased to accept. To the west, Iberian tribes continually rebel, and lose, and end up being pacified at the point of a sword. Similarly, Gauls in northern Italy reacquaint themselves with the hobby of losing to Roman armies.

And yet this military dominance is starkly contrasted by the seeming increase of bending the rules of the state, allowing personal feelings to override a sense of duty. The enervation of discipline in the luxury afforded by victory may have its very earliest origins here. The Bacchic depravities are the most obvious sign, but there are vendettas in the Senate (although these were present earlier as well). Some stark counterpoints exist, such as Marcus Porcius Cato and Lucius Aemilius Macedonicus, but the former was loathed for his energetic time as censor and the latter had to fight his own troops to be awarded a triumph because they disliked the old-fashioned discipline imposed upon them during his successful prosecution of the final war against Perseus’ Macedon.

It’s also interesting to note certain families having great sway and wondering how the early empire might have looked if we’d have Aemilius, Metellus, or Flaminius as the noble family rather than the Julio-Claudians of Caesar.

In short, if you enjoyed Livy’s other books you’ll certainly enjoy this one.

Thaddeus