Date: Sun, 25 Jan 2004 22:44:20 -0500 From: Office of The ProvostSubject: Wie es eigentlich gewesen war To: CLASSICS-L@LSV.UKY.EDU (Second of three messages) I should like to address again briefly here the state of play in scholarship about 'barbarians' in late antiquity. David Lupher rightly upbraids me for not mentioning Pat Geary's latest book (sheer absence of mind), but I also commend Pat's earlier *Before France and Germany*, which can be used as a textbook and captures the realities of life on one part of the Roman frontier very well indeed. To James Pfundstein's post of a few days ago, I hasten to say that I do not doubt nor does any late antique scholar doubt that in many ways and in many places and at many times, forms of social and political and economical organization that had displayed a greater degree of coherence, prosperity, and stability lost those characteristics, or transitioned from one such state to a very different one, in the course of the period after 200 CE/AD. What challenges scholarship is to be precise about what happened when and where, and to make sure that we continue to learn from new discoveries and arguments. Some, but not all, of those events had to do with encounters with 'Germanic' peoples but to say that 'Rome' had an encounter with 'Germanic cultures', however agreeable to the ears of German scholars of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (e.g., Ludwig Schmidt, author of *Die Ostgermanen* et al.) is to exaggerate impardonably. Some of the things that I have learned in the course of the last thirty years on these topics are: Different parts of the Eurasiafric world experienced very different trajectories of social, economic, and political change in this period. The category 'barbarian' is very unhelpful in attempting to understand these events. Those who chose in that period to use that category in defense of the "Roman empire" did harm by doing so as well as good. Here is the relevance that *I* see to 9/11. A focused, disastrous, shocking attack happened. How should those attacked and their partisans react? Attack 'barbarism'? Speak of a 'clash of civilizations'? Address the specifics of that attack? How to treat people who were not involved in the attack but are thought to sympathize and perhaps consider emulation? My position is pragmatist rather than ideological. When our government does its best work, in my view, it is pragmatist (and it has done some very good work in this line); when it does its worst work, it demonizes the enemy, angers those it need not anger, and takes a high ideological line. My allusion to Cavafy and Coetzee was to indicate that in our time as in 410, the presence of 'barbarians' was 'a kind of solution' - i.e., gave a focus and direction to the culture's internal narrative regardless whether that was a good thing. If we were to ask when in the ancient world *after* the Antonines, human beings were safest and most prosperous, I would propose the years 514-519 CE/AD. At that time, the 'barbarian' terrors of the fifth century had been addressed and resolved, by remarkably different strategies. In the east, the 'barbarians' who had seized a large measure of power in the first half of the fifth century had been displaced by a military line of emperors from Isauria. Now Isauria was a tough piece of country in those days. Ammianus a century earlier hadn't thought much of the folks down there: banditry a particular local skill. But the Isaurians post-450 were useful counterweights to the 'barbarians', and under the emperors Zeno and Anastasius, Constantinople regained control of its domains. In the same period, the theological wars of the last century were brought to an end with Zeno's Henotikon and Anastasius' careful diplomacy to bring east and west together after the Acacian Schism in 514. There was reasonable peace on all frontiers. In the west, the 'barbarians' who had seized a large measure of power in the first half of the fifth century had been succeeded by others who had brought, from 490 onward, a remarkable measure of stability and revived prosperity to Italy (under the Ostrogoths -- this is the age of Constantinople-reared Theoderic), Gaul (under the Franks -- this is the age of Clovis), Spain (Visigoths), and even Africa (the Vandals ran a problematic regime, but by the late fifth century, they were the established order). Then in 519, the senior military official Justin became emperor, bringing with him his nephew and heir Justinian. Who did in the Roman Empire? If you need a villain, it's Justinian. He botched the eastern frontier, botched the Balkan frontier, overextended himself with a lunatic scheme to reconquer Africa, Italy, and even Spain (luckily, he had little impact in Spain), and then, grossly overextended, saw his world ravaged by the plague. By the time he died in 565, Italy had been crippled and laid open to Lombards and others, Africa likewise (Islam would take a while to arrive), the Balkans were out of control (here is the place for the book I referred to in my talk by Florin Curta on the Slavs: there's exciting stuff being done in Balkan history these days), and Heraclius half a century later would expend all his resources in stabilizing the eastern frontier against the Persians -- only to discover (and Walter Kaegi's new book is good on this) that the Arabic Muslims would prove too much for him. No question there were lots of folks standing around inside and outside the Roman limes talking Germanic talk to each other. But the idea that they came in genetically branded clumps of "Visigoths", "Ostrogoths", "Vandals", "Rugians", "Sciri", and the like is what has turned out, in the last generation's scholarship, to be very far from true. Figuring out how each *active* clump came together, got active, understood itself, and moved around requires us to pay attention to the individual cases, not the big slashing arrows on the map. That's a sketch, but I hope suggestive. The last thing to say is that the histories of Britain and Ireland, of the Rhine frontier, of the upper Danube frontier, of the lower Danube frontier, of the Mesopotamian/Syrian frontier, and eventually of the frontiers of Arabia, Egypt, Africa, and Spain (as Islam progressed) have very little in common. To generalize what was inside as the Greco-Roman world and to generalize the outside as 'barbarians' is to make the same category error scholars make when they speak of 'pagans'. To think that all the events on all those frontiers coalesce into a single coherent narrative is simply to make a mistake. When Gibbon made it, it was a wonderfully illuminating and interesting and important narrative, and we continue to learn much from it. But we need to get beyond it. 'Pagans': SW opines: "Since 'pagans' ought to be banned, we really do need some common term for those polytheists who refused to accept any of the 'Christianities.'" No, we don't. (1) After 391 AD/CE there weren't enough of them to count: imperial suppression was quite effective. See Charles Hedrick's fine book on how the grandchildren of the 'pagan' ringleaders (if they were that) were rehabilitated in the 430s by their ostensibly Christian progeny. That lots of non-Christian religious practices persisted, many of them practiced by people who'd been baptized and went to Christian churches on Sunday, is another matter. (2) Before 391, there were scads of people not converting to Christianity (about the way I'm not converting to Rosicrucianism - that is, it's true I'm not, but it's hardly a constitutive fact in my life), and they had lots of different reasons for refusing, did so in a lot of different ways, and were engaged in religious practices of their own, thank you very much, and the ones in Scotland and the ones in Arabia didn't have much in common at all. 'Pagan' makes sense as a term of Christian theological opprobrium, not as a historical category. (Sorry, most specialists are have heard enough O'Donnell on 'paganism'. David Lupher had helpful URL's with things like references from the list archives.) 'Rome': the idea that history is well and faithfully done by following 'Rome' through its myriad evolutions is both powerful and flawed. Imagine the TV show that would run an animated series of maps with bright blue in the middle for Roman territory, and think how that blue blob would morph through the centuries. Note that by the most conservative reckonings, no territory that was 'Roman' in 200 BCE/BC was Roman by 476. But the blue blob would still be there, by most accounts, centered on Anatolia, and morphing cheerfully onwards for another thousand years. (Query: would Charlemagne's or Otto's territory get to be blue? It usually doesn't in western civilization narratives.) We all know the strengths and uses of doing that history. But to write the history of, let us say, Isauria from 600 BCE/BC to 600 CE/AD would get a very different narrative, provide a perspective that would alter our view of Mediterranean history, and have every bit as much claim to be taken seriously. Better still to write the history of Egypt or Syria or Africa that way. The view for which I argued in my address is that the attentive study of the history of differentiated places, peoples, and ideas is the current and next task for history of the late antique world. It's an exciting time to work in the neighborhood. Jim O'Donnell