J.
E. Lendon in his book, Soldiers and Ghosts: A History of Battle in
Classical Antiquity, uses Greek and Roman culture to explain fundamental
changes in the conduct of war. Lendon persuasively argues that competition
and an obsession with the ancient past were the guiding principles of
Greek warfare. Likewise, Roman warfare was characterized by an insatiable
lust for single combat and a delicate balancing act between virtus and disciplina .
But at the same time, he admits, “all in all, there was far less technological
change in the eight hundred years from 500 B.C. to A.D. 400 then in the
forty years from 1910 to 1950.” (p. 9). What makes Lendon’s
book interesting, too, is the evolution of generalship and command, which
reaches its zenith under Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great, only to
deteriorate under Titus and Julian. Lendon painstakingly reinforces his
argument with ample literary, pictorial, and archaeological evidence.
The illustrations and maps are easy to interpret and help the reader to
understand, for example, the way phalanxes and cohorts were assembled
and structured. This book is appropriate for use in undergraduate and
graduate study in military history, classics, and Greek and Roman history
survey courses.
“Innovating
by attempting to re-create what has gone before-going forward by looking
backward-is, in fact, entirely characteristic of ancient habits of mind.” (p.
11). Lendon begins by surveying competition, single combat, and heroic
deeds in the Iliad. The Iliad contained the history
of the Greeks. Every Greek military leader and soldier lived to emulate
the deeds recorded in the Iliad.
“Nearly every activity in the Iliad can be imagined to be
a competition.”
(p. 24) Competition in the Iliad was
a public performance and could take many forms. For example, men
would compete with one another in an assembly or war council to give the
best advice. Glory in battle was determined, “not only upon
his observed performance, but also on the excellence of the defeated.” (p.
26). Hector’s claim to glory for delivering the death blow
to Patroclus , for example, was high in value
but diminished by the way he killed him. Cavalry and archers were
looked upon with disdain in the Iliad because cavalryman could flee
from combat and an archer killed from a distance. However, in the
Odyssey, archery is a “heroic achievement par excellence (p. 34).” This
is one of many contradictions in the Iliad of what is considered
heroic and what is not.
Precepts
from the Iliad trickled down through the centuries. Leonidas and Amompheretus exemplified
the idea of passive courage best. The Spartans, led by Leonidas,
gave their lives voluntarily to defend Greece. They knew they were
going to an early grave but they placed too much importance in the ideals
inculcated in them from birth – that a Spartan does his duty and
will hold his ground. At the battle of Plataea, another Spartan
defied his superior’s orders because it went against conscience. Amompheretus would
stand his ground and not leave his original position. Though his
actions resulted in devastating losses, Amompheretus was
honored as the third bravest of the battle. Flagrant disobedience
was not punished but rewarded.
At Delium ,
guile was used to gain the edge and subsequent victory. “A
victory by the stratagem of a general allowed the defeated to claim that
they were not defeated in courage, that they were not defeated according
to the hoplite definition of defeat.” (p. 88) Phalanx was,
in theory, supposed to meet opposing phalanx on a flat-plain and both
were to fight hand-to-hand until one phalanx was worsted by the other. To
some generals, this was lunacy. They would employ various devices,
trickery to name one, to see that they were victorious and to ensure that
their men would live to fight again. Tension was palpable between
generals and rank-and-file because they were given “command” in
loose terms. They were unable to dictate to those under their command
as is common in the modern era. If the men wanted battle, it was
unwise for a general to delay fearing to be labeled a coward. This
aggressive bloodlust was yet another feature of Greek warfare that kept
it more connected to the distant past than the future.
The Homeric
ideal was personified in the person of Alexander. Greek love of Homer
was,
“unusually passionate… and strongest of all in [Alexander].” (p.
117) Lendon argues that Achilles served not only as Alexander’s idol
and as mentor but was also the measuring stick with which he compared himself.
This obsession, according to Lendon, fueled a rivalry that began in Alexander’s
youth. The notion that Alexander was competing against the deeds
of Achilles would explain Alexander’s propensity to put his person
constantly at risk. To illustrate this, Lendon focuses on Alexander’s
bravery at Issus: “In battle, Alexander took two blows to the breastplate,
one on the helmet, and three upon the shield, a testimony to his Iliadic heroism.” (p.
119) To sum up the chapters on Greek warfare,
Lendon concludes covering two battles in Persia between Alexander’s
lieutenants: Antigonus and Eumenes . Both
men employed Alexandrian tactics to good effect but both erred when they
possessed the advantage. Antigonus , the seasoned warrior, defeated Eumenes , a bureaucrat, at Gabinae .
The
second half of the book covers Roman military history. Rome began
fighting their neighbors as a phalanx and often sought single combat as
a way to bolster one’s reputation and impress one’s superiors.
At the turn of the fourth century, the phalanx was scrapped and the manipular legions
were introduced. The selection of soldiers in Rome was unique and
unlike any of their contemporaries. The beauty of such an arrangement
was that individual strengths were given precedence over familiarity and
cohesiveness as a group. Whereas Greeks focused on camaraderie and shared
loyalties, Romans focused on the talents of each individual. Single combat
was encouraged in certain situations but would be punished severely too. Lendon
cites two examples of father’s executing their sons for disobedience
and engaging in single combat. A soldier was expected to display virtus and disciplina simultaneously.
Aemilius Paullus was given the
task to bring King Perseus of Macedonia under the Roman yoke. Constantly
having to appease Rome, his soldiers and his officers, Paullus masterfully
used every strategy, tactic, and trick to pacify his men to bend to his
will without giving them the impression of cowardice. Even after Paullus had
defeated Perseus and allowed his men to loot Epirus and set the countryside
ablaze, his men were still not satisfied and petitioned Rome for Paullus ’
recall. Romans persisted in their belief that war should be fought
one dimensionally. In other words, battle should be fought face-to-face
with the best man as the winner. Even the legendary Scipio Africanus “was severely criticized at Rome for lack
of aggression, for moving too slowly, and for spoiling his soldiers.” (p.
207)
Lendon
devotes two chapters to the battle of Gergovia in
Gaul and Jerusalem in Palestine. He contrasts the leadership style
of Julius Caesar at Gergovia and Titus at Jerusalem
and the methods employed by each general. At Gergovia , Caesar utilized Greek strategy. However, the manipular legions were supplanted by cohorts. Cohorts “allow
the commander a great deal of flexibility in a arraying his line of battle
(p. 235).” Willful disobedience and bad communication nearly
cost Caesar his reputation and his legions. Many centurions died at Gergovia giving
their men time to flee. Caesar lost more officers than legionaries. In
the Holy Land, Vespasian handed over command to his son Titus. As
supreme commander in his late 20s, Titus proved to be an able general
with a penchant for close combat. Like Caesar, Titus struggled to
restrain his men from foolhardy endeavors. Nevertheless, Titus was
not content merely issuing orders and commanding from afar. He wanted
to be at the forefront of battle and in the mix of action. Titus’ own
impetuous example may have spurred his men to push the limits and seek
glory in emulation of their general. In this respect, Titus shared more
in common with Alexander than with Caesar. During Titus’s campaign,
auxiliaries were employed specifically for hand-to-hand combat while legionaries
specialized in fortification, engineering, and the like. Virtus associated with auxiliaries and disciplina , “. .
. [which ] came to include… nearly every
military excellence that was not encompassed under virtus , including training and building,” with legionaries
(p. 252).
Roman
ways of fighting gave way, yet again, to Greek ways of fighting by the
fourth century. Lendon concludes his survey of Roman military history
and his book with Julian’s campaign in Persia. Julian was
at a great disadvantage from the beginning. What Lendon fails to
tell the reader is that Julian, before he ascended to the purple, was
educated in Athens as a philosopher. He was trained in all-things
Greek and preferred to speak in Greek too. It is very likely that
he favored Greek military theory and culture in comparison to his less-cultured
Roman heritage. Julian was thoroughly brainwashed with Greek ideas
and his military decisions were naturally guided by Greek strategies and
tactics. His decision to bypass Ctesiphon as an impregnable bulwark,
though Roman commanders had successfully laid siege to it in the past,
and burn his baggage train on the river were two costly mistakes that
would ensure his untimely demise. These decisions must have been
weighed by Julian who, like Marcus Aurelius, would spend many late nights
in study and meditation. Why did he choose such a course? Simple:
because he took his cues from Greek history’s greatest epic and
hero –
the Iliad and Alexander.
Lendon
covers all the key points of Julian’s campaign and asks the right
questions and, where history fails to provide a straightforward answer,
provides his own. It is interesting, however, to note Lendon’s silence concerning Julian’s predilection
for following omens and basing decisions upon their interpretation. A
careful study of Ammianus Marcellinus ’ Res Gestae would
reveal numerous omens and Julian’s often-precipitous actions. For
example,
“At the very moment when the latter died in Cilicia (Constantius II)
the soldier whose right had was supporting Julian as he was mounting his
horse slipped and fell to the ground, whereupon Julian was heard by a number
of people to exclaim that the man who had raised him to his high station
had fallen.” Despite being educated and worldly, Julian was
haunted by the supernatural and was very superstitious. This may
have more to do with his Greek education that his Roman upbringing.
The author may be reaching a
little too far in suggesting that Julian believed
he was indeed fighting an ancient Babylonian army rather
than a contemporary Persian force. However, Lendon tries
to draw a positive correlation between his argument and handpicked examples,
such conclusions betray Julian’s
intelligence. Julian may have been in love with the Greek
past, but he was still a fourth-century Roman emperor.
The author also overlooks the fact that Julian wrote the only account
detailing the Battle of Strasbourg.[1] Although not considered
a traditional piece of historical scholarship, it does show Julian’s
interest in military analysis. Julian was motivated by a deep reverence
for the past, especially the Greek past. As one historian
noted, “Julian
surpassed even Alexander the Great in his ability
to go without sleep.”[2] The
idea of competition and rivalry was an ethos shared by
many Greeks and Romans. Common soldiers vied with one
another to mimic the deeds of the mighty Achilles and Alexander. Ties to
a mythic past were a hallmark of ancient Greek and Roman culture. Lendon
utilizes the best historical source on Julian with an eyewitness account
by Marcellinus but minimizes Julian’s Greek connection. Aside from
a few minor omissions and dubious conclusions, Lendon has written
an outstanding chapter on Julian.
This reviewer was pleased to
see a short section on Vegetius (p. 280-85). Lendon begins his discussion
by alluding to the education all aristocrats received in the first centuries
A.D. It is this education, Lendon forcefully argues, that permeates Vegetius ’
work. Lendon associates Vegetius with the classical author Arrian . Another
connection remiss from London’s work is the fourth century historian Ammianus Marcellinus . Ammianus ’ work is full of exempla, a common
literary technique, and quotes heavily from ancient sources to provide
credibility to his story. These are literary devices that an educated
elite respected and came to expect from authors. In Vegetius ’
case, he was not a soldier yet wrote a successful military
work outlining the virtues of the old legionary system that pleased the
emperor. It made little difference if Vegetius was a career soldier;
what mattered was that he wrote in a style that was universally accepted
as authoritative. “Rome was an empire without special academies
for soldiers or statesmen, without a general staff to mold a distinctive
military mindset, and the common education in rhetoric stock the minds
of all.” (p. 281). It was this reviewer’s opinion that
Vegetius was a man longing for a past that no longer existed. According
to Lendon, “Vegetius was not a blind admirer of the past.” He
merely wanted the Romans to “re-create the military methods and regimens
of their own past, lately adapted to present conditions.” (p. 282).
What Vegetius advocated was not unique or revolutionary but a set of attitudes
adhered to and propagated by men of similar backgrounds. Vegetius,
like many of his contemporaries, looked to the past to meet the challenges
and problems of the present.
Lendon’s book
was a delight to read. He offered a different lens for viewing Greek
and Roman military history. With determination, Lendon substantiated
his thesis with a variety of sources, ranging from various primary sources
to archaeological evidence. In comparison to Arther Ferrell’s book, On
the Origins of War, Lendon’s book was inferior in illustrations but replete
with an annotated bibliography that would aid students in pursuing further
studies. Lendon argued that culture, not technology or any other
external force, dictated the slow advancement and even regression of the
evolution of warfare. It is this reviewer’s opinion that Lendon’s interpretations and conclusions are stimulating
even if one does not completely agree.
Notes
[1] David Rohrbacher . The
Historians of Late Antiquity. (London: Routledge ,
2002) p. 39
[2] Ibid,
p. 37.