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C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 362 [362–382] 13 A Professional Roman Army?* Doug Lee It is very common in modern scholarly books and articles to see the word ‘professional’, or variants of it, invoked with reference to the Roman army. Such usages occur most frequently in relation to the military reforms introduced by the emperor Augustus, as in the following examples from recent decades: The army . . . created by Augustus is heavily professionalised, at least in its rank and file, and in its centurions.1 [F]rom the time of Augustus onwards, from first enlistment many men spent their entire lives as professional soldiers, seeing in their comradesin-arms their own social framework and the friends with whom they chose to retire when too old to fight.2 In one area Augustus’ reforms had precisely the opposite effect to that which he had intended. So effectively were the legions depoliticized, and so distant was the professional army that he created from the idea of a citizen militia, that a dichotomy gradually grew up within Roman society, between the army and everyone else.3 Augustus . . . demobilized the permanent citizen legions and replaced them with professional armies.4 * 1 2 3 4 My thanks to conference participants and above all to the volume editors for helpful feedback on earlier versions of this chapter. Dobson 1986: 17. Goodman 1997: 113. Bispham 2008: 161–2. Harper 2017: 9. For further examples relating to Augustus’ reforms, see Raaflaub 1980: 1011 (‘military professionalism’); Burton 1996: 1328 (‘Augustus . . . had created a fully professional army’); Scheidel 1996: 94 (‘the creation of a standing professional army under Augustus’); Cherry 2001: 175 (‘the professionalization of the army was completed under Augustus’); Pollard 2006: 207 (‘Augustus . . . professionalized the remaining force’); Haynes 2013: 50 (‘building a professional army’); Howarth 2013: 34 (‘the institution of a fully professional army’). C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 363 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? The terminology of professionalism sometimes also features in discussions of the steps taken by Marius with regard to recruitment in the late second century BC, or developments during the final decades of the Republic when troops served for extended periods under the same commander, as in the following: It must be stressed . . . that Marius’ activities did not lead to any thorough overhaul or reform of the conditions of military service . . . Yet it is probably true to say that the balance shifted further towards the nearprofessional army.5 By the first century BC, the soldiers were becoming increasingly professionalized and the military increasingly separate from the rest of the population.6 And, unsurprisingly, it is used with reference to the army more generally during the post-Augustan period of the Principate, in the early centuries AD: In imperial Rome wars were fought not by upper class citizens but by professional troops commanded by generals and officers.7 The Roman army [of the Principate] was small for the area of ground that it occupied, but it was a professional and extremely efficient force.8 What is striking, however, is that when terms such as ‘professional’ or ‘professionalization’ are used in these contexts, it is usually done without any explicit discussion of them; they are often assumed, it seems, to be self-explanatory. Yet, as this volume demonstrates, ‘professionalization’ and ‘professional’ are terms with a wide range of potential connotations. A rare exception to the absence of explicit discussion of the term ‘professional’ in relation to the Roman army is worth quoting to show how the issue might be handled. It is noteworthy that it is provided by an ancient historian who was also a sociologist, in a paper written for a collection of essays with a sociological focus. In a discussion of the process of ‘structural 5 6 7 8 Keppie 1984: 62. Alston 1998: 210. Hölscher 2003: 14. Goldsworthy 2007: 118. For further examples, see Lewis and Reinhold 1955: 490 (‘Throughout the Principate, this professional army remained, as established by Augustus’); Campbell 1987: 27 (‘professional army’); Hope 2003: 85 (‘the military was now populated by professional soldiers’); Sidebottom 2004: 29 (‘Wars [in the Principate] were now fought by professional soldiers’). 363 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 364 364 [362–382] Doug Lee differentiation’9 in Roman society during the final two centuries of the Republic, Keith Hopkins included consideration of the changing character of the Roman army: In a particular military crisis towards the end of the second century BC, soldiers were legally recruited for the first time without regard to property qualifications, even from the urban proletariat. This was the beginning of a professional army, in the sense that soldiering was separated from agricultural labour and was recognized as a full-time (if short-term) occupation. But the short-term service of the Roman army, recruited from an underemployed lower class – whether peasantry or proletariat – was significant. For it marked a transitional stage between the former peasant army and the fully professional army of the early Empire (after 31 BC). The fully professional army is tied to a stable relationship to the state by the regularity of its pay, by a career structure and the opportunity of promotion, by the chance of civilian employment on completion of service, possibly bolstered by a pension or bounty.10 Hopkins uses the term ‘professional’ with reference to the Roman army, but provides more detail as to what the term entails, no doubt because he is considering it as part of his larger treatment of ‘structural differentiation’. As such, it is a refreshing change from the usual pattern, but even so, the terminology remains problematic.11 In his helpful discussion of the transition from the chivalric ethos of the Middle Ages to the military professionalism of early modern Europe, David 9 10 11 I.e., ‘the process by which an institution, previously charged with several overlapping functions, develops in such a way that these functions are taken over by other more specialized institutions’ (Hopkins 1968: 63). Hopkins 1968: 64–5. This item was omitted from the recent posthumous collection of his ‘sociological studies on Roman history’ (Hopkins 2017), perhaps because some of its discussion was absorbed into Hopkins 1978: ch. 1. See also Cornell 1993: 164. For other scholars showing awareness of the issues raised by the terminology of professionalism, see Brunt 1988: 256: ‘it is misleading to speak of a professional army [in the late Republic]; no one who enlisted could count on making a career in the army which would occupy most of his active life’ (this is new text added to the revised version of his famous 1962 article on the army and land); and De Blois 2000: 30: ‘The professionalism of the Roman armies of the Late Republic never was the professionalism of mercenaries, but the near professionalism of volunteers who enlisted time and time again, serving in one campaign after the other, a professionalism of year-to-year military practice and routine. The Roman Republic did not have professional armies in the modern sense of the word, but only armies consisting of citizens under arms, some of which through prolonged military service in far-off lands developed into cohesive homogeneous blocks in society. They had common material interests and were recognised as separate groups by contemporary and later ancient writers.’ C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 365 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? Trim offers the following observation on the issue of terminology: ‘The first step is to deconstruct the term “profession” and its cognates, “professional”, “professionalism” and “professionalisation.” The problem is that though these terms are in common use, they always have been and still are remarkably ambiguous and mutable.’12 This question of linguistic usage is an important issue because some of the connotations of these terms risk importing anachronistic, modernizing assumptions into how the Roman army is conceived. In particular, there is a danger of reinforcing the common, but unhelpful, idea of the Roman army as a well-oiled, smoothly functioning machine, with its implication of unerring efficiency and superhuman invincibility.13 The reservations of Adrian Goldsworthy from two decades ago remain pertinent: The popular image of the Roman army is of an incredibly modern force, highly organised and rigidly disciplined. When the army fought a war, it operated in a very methodical way . . . In all situations a legion would apply a carefully rehearsed battle-drill, the legionaries moving like the components of some large machine. Individual soldiers were mere automata, reduced by the army’s brutal discipline to a point where they were incapable of taking independent action . . . The Roman military machine was so perfect that it had no need for the overall direction of commanders. All they had to do was deploy this machine and point it in the right direction . . . Scholarly works on the Roman army have portrayed a force not substantially different from the popular image . . . In this book I have attempted to show that both the popular and the scholarly view of the Roman army is at best highly misleading, and in most cases utterly false.14 One response to the charge of unthinking use of the language of ‘professionalism’ in the context of the Roman army might be that the term ‘professionalization’ is not a simple metaphor in the way that ‘machine’ is, and that it is merely being used as convenient shorthand for a package of 12 13 14 Trim 2003: 6, emphasis added. For examples of use of the term, see Birley 1988 [1952]: 5 (‘the structure of the machine’); Frank 1969: 79 (‘during the fourth century a new military machine . . . [was] created’); Keppie 1984: 169 (‘the machinery of the new professional army’); Peddie 1994 (‘The Roman War Machine’); Williams and Friell 1994, ch. 6 (‘The War Machine’); Bradley 2004: 308 (‘the Roman war machine’); McLynn 2005: 102 (‘The Roman army had always functioned . . . as a fighting machine’); Howarth 2013: 34 (‘the third significant phase of the Roman military machine’); Harper 2017: 7 (‘The legions [of the Republic] destroyed their rivals one by one . . . The war machine whetted its own appetite’). Goldsworthy 1996: 283–4. See also Carrié 1993: 100; Alston 1995: 3–5, Coulston 2013: 8–9; and above all James 2002: 9, 32 (an invaluable, extended methodological critique of Roman military studies in Britain). 365 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 366 366 [362–382] Doug Lee Augustan measures and its consequences – and there is no doubt something in this. Nonetheless, it is shorthand with a lot of accompanying baggage and its widespread default usage warrants interrogation, which is the purpose of this chapter. To what extent is it justifiable to talk of a ‘professional’ Roman army? The particular changes made by Augustus which tend to attract the label of ‘professionalization’ are, first, his introduction of legionary service for a substantial fixed period of time – initially (from 13 BC), sixteen years, with four years as a reserve, and then from AD 5 onwards, twenty years, with five years as a reserve;15 and, secondly, his institution of a discharge bonus provided by the state in addition to the regular pay legionaries received – initially taking the form of land, but later changed to money.16 In other words, what Augustus effectively did was to establish a full-time standing army in which individuals could find uninterrupted employment for a substantial portion of their adult working life, with retirement benefits. This stands in contrast to the original principles of military service during the earlier Republican period, when the Roman army was essentially a parttime citizen militia. As Rome’s overseas commitments increased during the middle Republic, some legions did remain in service for a number of years, but although individuals were liable for sixteen years of service overall, they could normally expect discharge after a maximum of six years’ continuous service.17 Military service was not, then, generally a permanent form of fulltime employment in this period of Roman history, although the intense demands on manpower during the civil wars of the first century BC did mean some troops ended up serving for more extended periods, which anticipated Augustan changes. Furthermore, liability for military service during the Republic was based in part on ownership of property, which was regarded as a legionary’s primary source of income, rather than them relying on their intermittent military service, where the stipendium which soldiers received was intended only to mitigate some of the financial burden of serving in the legions.18 Against this background, the Augustan changes marked a very significant development – there is no denying that. But does it warrant the term ‘professionalization’? There are a number of different ways of approaching this question. There is a substantial scholarly literature in the field of sociology 15 16 17 18 Cass. Dio 54.25.5 (13 BC), 55.23.1 (AD 5), with Rich 1990: 203–4 (who, incidentally, refers to Augustus maintaining a ‘standing long-service army’). For details of these changes, see Raaflaub 1980. Brunt 1962: 80–1. Keppie 1996: 371–2. C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 367 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? concerning professionalization in the modern era, while there has also been scholarly discussion of the professionalization of military forces in more modern contexts. With regard to the former, ‘few ideas have been more central to understanding the organization of societies than the division of labor, and few segments of labor have sustained as much long-lasting interest than professions’.19 Consideration of the latter has partly taken place as an aspect of the broader sociological analysis of modern professions, with particular reference to the officer corps of armies, but also in the context of the historical development of armed forces from early modern Europe through to the contemporary world.20 In what follows, the relevance of each of these approaches to the Roman empire will be considered in turn, with the question of military officers as professionals given separate attention in the latter stages of this chapter. Turning first, then, to modern sociological studies, defining ‘profession’ has been a subject of debate, but some examples of definitions will help to highlight generally accepted central features: Professions are privileged occupations. Their members enjoy, if not always, above average incomes, relative security, social esteem and cultural authority, based on their command of a specialized knowledge. Organized as corporate bodies, the most established professions govern themselves and discipline their own members.21 Characteristics of a profession: (1) the use of skills based on theoretical knowledge; (2) education and training in these skills; (3) the competence of professionals ensured by examinations; (4) a code of conduct to ensure professional integrity; (5) performance of service that is for the public good; (6) a professional association that organizes members . . . Professionals normally have high pay, high social status and autonomy in their work.22 A ‘profession’, then, refers to certain types of work that involve specialized knowledge and skills gained through specific education, are a full-time occupation for which individuals receive good remuneration, and have developed agreed standards of performance and an associated corporate ethos, with an accompanying high level of social status for practitioners, as 19 20 21 22 Hermanowicz and Johnson 2014: 209. Huntington 1957: chs. 1–3; Lang 1972: ch. 2; Collins 1990: 34–5; Kniskern and Segal 2015: 511–12. Larson 2006: 539. Abercrombie, Hill and Turner 2006: 309. Further discussions in Burrage 1990; Siegrist 2015. 367 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 368 368 [362–382] Doug Lee exemplified in the evolution of the modern medical profession.23 It is worth reiterating that, perhaps because professions are social phenomena rather than clearly bounded legal entities, there remains scope for disagreement about how to define a profession. The criteria detailed here attempt to impose some degree of order on the semantic fuzziness which often surrounds use of the term and thereby provide a helpful heuristic framework within which to assess the appropriateness of the term with reference to the Roman military. As already noted, military service in modern contexts has sometimes been treated as being a profession in this sense. However, it is difficult to see that the term can be used unreservedly in this way with reference to the Augustan military reforms, or even the development of Roman military service across a broader time span. To be sure, there are some elements in the definitions above which can be identified in the context of the Roman military in the imperial period. ‘Performance of service that is for the public good’ can be seen in the army’s role in protecting the empire’s frontiers against foreign attack, and their work involved the use of skills.24 However, these are very broad criteria, and there are other definitional aspects which are difficult to identify in the Roman context. The question of training will be discussed in more detail below, but it is immediately evident that the skills of the ordinary Roman soldier were not based on theoretical knowledge and did not entail formal examinations in the manner of modern professions, and while the Roman military had a corporate identity, it did not govern itself or have autonomy in its work – it operated at the behest of the emperor and his subordinates. These are significant divergences from the modern sociological paradigm of professions. The conclusion that the imperial Roman army was not ‘professional’ in the modern sense is strengthened by the difficulty of identifying other types of work in the Roman world analogous to a profession in the modern sense. While those who presented themselves as medical doctors in the Roman world could possess important specialized knowledge and skills, there was no professional accreditation of doctors, while the fact that many were 23 24 Freidson 1988; Larson 2013: ch. 3 for the medical profession. Whether all these criteria apply to all types of work popularly thought of as professional remains a moot point (e.g., actors and musicians may enjoy minimal job security, while many teaching in UK schools and universities would dispute the idea that they receive good remuneration), highlighting the definitional problem, even with reference to modern society. The criterion of ‘above average incomes’ and ‘high pay’ is less straightforward: one recent discussion has placed the basic rate of military pay in the first century AD in ‘the middle range of civilian earnings’ (Rathbone 2009: 311), but in the absence of ancient statistics, this is necessarily based on incomplete evidence and assumptions which are open to debate. C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 369 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? slaves or former slaves was a further impediment to public esteem or high status for the occupation as a whole.25 By contrast, Roman jurists came from the aristocratic elite during the Republic and Principate, but paradoxically this militated against the development of anything approximating to a professional identity, since they were not dependent on their legal activities for their social status or their livelihood. Moreover, as John Crook notes, ‘there were no professional associations, . . . nor were any formal educational qualifications needed’.26 If other obvious candidates for professions are not easily identified in the Roman context, then this must give pause for thought about the validity of using such language with reference to the Roman army. In the more specific context of military studies, ‘professionalization’ features in discussions of the emergence of modern armies in the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries against the background of technological innovations and the growth of the power of the state.27 One important aspect of this was the formation of a professional officer corps through the establishment of training colleges in the nineteenth century, as distinct from the aristocratic, chivalric ethos which prevailed previously, and this raises the question of the extent to which officers in the Roman army can be described as professionals. This issue will be considered later in this chapter, but first there is the broader question of the army at large. While gamechanging technological innovations comparable to the introduction of gunpowder were not a feature of Roman military history, there are other respects in which a number of the changes of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries can be paralleled in the Roman context. A helpful summary of these changes is provided by Michael Howard in his study War in European History, specifically in the opening paragraphs of a chapter entitled ‘The Wars of the Professionals’: By the eighteenth century European wars were being conducted by professional armed forces of a kind with which we would be familiar today. Their officers were not primarily members of a warrior caste fighting from a concept of honour or feudal obligation; nor were they contractors doing a job for anyone who would pay them. They were servants of the state who were guaranteed regular employment, regular wages, and career prospects and who dedicated themselves to the service of the state, or rather of their ‘country’ . . . come peace, come war . . . By 1700 the essential outlines were there: a state machine responsible for, 25 26 27 Galen On Recognising the Best Doctor 1.3–4; Nutton 1985; Jackson 1988: 56–9. Crook 1995: 42, cf. 41–5; Harries 2006: 34–5. Abrahamsson 1972: 21–39. 369 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 370 370 [362–382] Doug Lee and capable of, maintaining a full-time force on foot in war and peace – paying, feeding, arming, and clothing it; and a coherent hierarchy of men with a distinct sub-culture of their own, set apart from the rest of the community not only by their function but by the habits, the dress, the outlook, the interpersonal relations, the privileges, and the responsibilities which that function demanded.28 How does the army which emerged from the Augustan reforms measure up against these criteria? Although Roman administrative arrangements during the Principate hardly warrant being described as ‘a machine’,29 Augustus’ reforms did formally establish a full-time standing army paid and armed by the state. That army had a coherent hierarchy of command, from the legate in overall command of a legion down through the ranks of tribune, camp prefect, and so on, to various grades of centurion at the level of cohort and century.30 It also developed a distinct identity, reflected in the emergence of a term for the new phenomenon of non-combatant citizens – pagani31 – and in other features of military life.32 The posting of legions on the distant frontiers of the empire served to reinforce that sense of distinct identity, as did various aspects of soldiers’ legal position. On the one hand, there was the prohibition on soldiers marrying (a measure usually attributed to Augustus), while on the other, there was their gradual acquisition of a range of legal privileges, such as greater freedom from some of the formal powers of their father compared with ordinary citizens, and having more flexibility in the formulation of a valid will.33 These characteristics of the army in the period following Augustus can be regarded, then, as amounting to professionalization in the sense defined by Michael Howard, but it is professionalization in the much simpler sense of the contrast between the professional and the amateur – and, indeed, this is the contrast which is sometimes used or implicit in some of the quotations concerning Augustus’ reforms deployed at the start of this chapter. However, if parallels can be drawn between Augustus’ reforms and the professionalization of armies in early modern Europe, there is also a significant difference to bear in mind. Where changes in early modern Europe were introduced with the conscious aim of improving military 28 29 30 31 32 33 Howard 1976: 54–5; cf. Trim 2003: 6–11. Cf. Garnsey and Saller 1987: ch. 2 (‘Government without bureaucracy’). For a summary, see Le Bohec 1994: 36–46, with further discussion in Isaac 1995. For changes in late antiquity, see Rance 2007b: 395–7. Carrié 1993: 103; Eck 2014. MacMullen 1984. However, the proposal that the army should be viewed as a ‘total institution’ (Shaw 1983) has been challenged: Stoll 2001. Campbell 1984: chs. 4–7; Phang 2001. C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 371 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? effectiveness, Augustus’ military reforms had a different purpose. They were not formulated with a view to creating a more efficient army; rather they were his solution to the problem of military intervention in political life, which had become a recurrent issue during the late Republic. Augustus needed to establish a clear separation between the political and military spheres, and as far as the rank-and-file troops were concerned, this involved meeting the material needs of soldiers through providing a regular salary and discharge bonus. In this way, an obvious source of discontent was removed, while at the same time there was a reinforcement of the troops’ loyalty to the emperor as the provider of their material needs.34 In this important sense, Augustus’ ‘professionalization’ of the army was very different from the early modern European phenomenon. As previously noted, a further feature of Roman military service which is relevant to the question of professionalization is the role of training in relevant skills, which appears to have become more institutionalized during the Principate. This was at least partly a consequence of soldiers being based permanently in camps and therefore at the regular disposal of their superiors to undertake training. There is a range of evidence from the Principate, both textual and archaeological, which shows a concern with developing and maintaining the fighting skills of troops, at the levels of both individual weapons training and larger-scale group manoeuvres and mock battles.35 Institutionalization of training has seemed particularly evident because of the appearance, in sources from the Principate, of a range of titles for instructors in military contexts, some quite specialized, in contrast to oversight of training during the Republic by military tribunes and centurions.36 The term ‘institutionalization’ can, however, suggest a greater degree of central planning than was necessarily the case, and the picture of more formal training procedures following on the back of the Augustan reforms requires qualification in a number of respects. On the one hand, there were continuities from the Republican period, which mean that the Augustan reforms did not represent such a clear new start with respect to training, while on the other, there was a lack of uniformity in training during the Principate, which implies that the evidence for training should not be interpreted as reflecting part of a systematic, centrally coordinated approach. Examining each of these points in more detail, it is evident, first, that the importance of training was appreciated during the Republican period, as 34 35 36 Raaflaub 1980. Horsmann 1991; Rance 2000; Phang 2008: ch. 2; Coulston 2015. Horsmann 1991: 82–92. 371 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 372 372 [362–382] Doug Lee reflected in both anecdotal evidence37 and Polybius’ detailed description of camp construction, whose precision presupposes practice in that activity.38 This and other forms of training activity had pedigrees stretching back well into the Republican period.39 It has further been argued that the technical demands of manipular tactics, which emerged in the late fourth century BC, must have required intensive training of recruits, corroborated by evidence for armies spending longer in the field from an earlier date than traditionally assumed.40 All this may serve as a warning against assuming a progression towards professionalization from Republic to Principate analogous to the tendency in scholarship on more recent periods to think in terms of ‘the rise of professionalism’. Secondly, training during the Principate may not have been as rigorously monitored and uniformly organized as often assumed. ‘The training of [Roman] soldiers was not fully rationalized in the Weberian sense. The sources do not emphasize a discrete period of training such as modern basic training or boot camp; training was ideally ongoing and was the responsibility of individual commanders.’41 Moreover, the way in which particular commanders during the Principate are praised for re-establishing disciplined training regimes when taking up their post implies that maintenance of standards could be variable, especially in a period when the reduced incidence of warfare may have encouraged a more relaxed attitude.42 This may be the implication of the (admittedly moralizing) comment in the military treatise of Vegetius that ‘a sense of security born of long peace has diverted mankind partly to the enjoyment of private leisure, partly to civilian careers. Thus attention to military training was at first discharged rather neglectfully, then omitted, until finally consigned long since to oblivion’.43 It is also noteworthy that training rarely features in surviving duty rosters. In his well-known discussion of the daily routine of Roman soldiers, Roy Davies relied primarily on Vegetius’ treatise for evidence of training, and could cite only one instance of artillery practice and one of cavalry manoeuvres from the rosters preserved on papyrus.44 As for the emergence of 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 Horsmann 1991: ch. 1. Polyb. 6.27–32; Horsmann 1991: 164–71. See Rance 2000: 260–8 for the evidence concerning mock battles. Rosenstein 2004: 30–5. Phang 2008: 37. E.g., Domitius Corbulo (Tac. Ann. 13.35), Julius Agricola (Tac. Agr. 18), Avidius Cassius (HA, Avidius Cassius 5–6). Veg. Mil. 1.28 (tr. N. P. Milner). For Vegetius as a source, see the astute comments of Rance 2007a: 344–5. Davies 1974: 310–11. C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 373 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? specialist instructors during the Principate, a range of titles is known, from the generalized (e.g., doctor (‘instructor’), exercitator (‘trainer’), magister (‘teacher’)) to the more specific (e.g., campidoctor (‘supervisor of training on the exercise ground’), doctor armorum (‘weapons instructor’), hastiliarius (‘spear trainer’)).45 However, the extant evidence remains quite limited in quantity and much of it comprises bare titles in soldiers’ epitaphs which are short on interpretive context, so that efforts to impose uniformity and hierarchy entail a significant element of speculation. This has led one commentator to conclude that ‘the titulature of training-instructors appears to have remained flexible and varied between units of different classes, and there is no clear evidence for a consistent hierarchy or fixed complement of trainers in operation throughout the army’.46 Finally, it is worth emphasizing that this training was above all practical and physical in nature, rather than involving mastery of a body of knowledge, as in the case of modern professions. Even at the level of weapons training, there is a significant difference between the ancient and modern contexts. To be sure, stamina, balance, and manual dexterity were required to wield a Roman sword effectively, and strength and coordination were needed for javelin throwing and archery, but given suitable recruits, competence could readily be acquired through simple physical practice. By contrast, the technological complexity of modern firearms and artillery, not to mention sophisticated electronic equipment such as radios, radar, and electro-optics, means that competence can only be achieved through extended training at both practical and theoretical levels. Within the ranks of the imperial army, there existed a wide range of more specialized support roles which might be considered of relevance to the issue of ‘professionalization’.47 The clearest summary of these roles is provided by a jurist in the following passage: Some [soldiers] are entitled by their conditions of service to relief from more onerous duties. These are men such as surveyors, assistants in the hospital, surgeons and dressers, artisans and those who dig ditches, veterinary surgeons, architects, helmsmen, shipwrights, artillery constructors, glass fitters, craftsmen, arrowsmiths, coppersmiths, shield boss makers, wagon makers, shinglers, swordsmiths, water engineers, trumpet makers, horn makers, plumbers, blacksmiths, masons and lime burners, woodcutters and charcoal burners. In the same category are usually 45 46 47 For the evidence, see Horsmann 1991: 84–92. Rance 2007b: 401. See the helpful discussion in Speidel 2001, who does, however, take as his starting point the assumption of ‘professional specialisation’ (439). 373 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 374 374 [362–382] Doug Lee included butchers, huntsmen, keepers of sacrificial animals [victimarii], assistants in the workshop, those who are in charge of the sickbay, also clerks who are capable of teaching, granary clerks, savings bank clerks, clerks responsible for monies left without heirs, assistants to the adjutants, grooms, polishers, weapons keepers, the herald, and the trumpeter. All these are classed among the immunes.48 On the one hand, the fact that these roles were collectively classified as immunes – that is, those who did not have to undertake more onerous tasks – implies that they held a higher status within the army. On the other hand, it has been noted that soldiers did not refer to themselves as immunes on their tombstones, they were still expected to train and fight, and they were paid at the same rate as soldiers who were not exempt.49 Furthermore, this category covered a very diverse range of roles, from those involving a certain level of education – some of the medical roles and those requiring literacy – to those involving artisanal skills – craftsmen and builders of various sorts – to those relying primarily on physical strength – ditch diggers and woodcutters. Victimarii might also be included in this last group, insofar as their duties included the physical handling of sacrificial animals which could be large (e.g., oxen), although their religious associations were surely also relevant to their status as immunes.50 At any rate, given the sheer diversity of roles among those classified as immunes, and the fact that it included activities which required little in the way of education, it is difficult to see how this aspect of Roman military organization makes a difference with regard to the issue of professionalization. Returning to the more general question of Augustus’ military reforms and their impact on the status of ordinary legionaries, they can be characterized as introducing significant elements of what might be described as ‘professionalization’ in a loose sense, but it is important to recognize that the term also has connotations arising from modern professions which risk importing anachronistic assumptions. For this reason it is important to be clear about what the term means, and does not mean, in the Roman context – and this is rarely addressed. In my view, it is much more preferable to refer to Augustus’ formalization of a paid standing army and to make no reference at all to professionalization. As noted earlier, studies of military professionalization in more modern periods of history have given particular attention to the emergence of 48 49 50 Dig. 50.6.7 (Tarrutienus Paternus). Phang 2008: 45. For victimarii, see Lennon 2015 (with specific comment on their presence in the army at pp. 74–5). C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 375 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? professional officer corps, which has also been the focus of some sociological studies of the modern military, particularly with reference to military influence on civilian government, whether in the United States or in the developing world.51 This prompts consideration of a further, more specific question in the Roman context: in what respect, if any, is there any discernible degree of ‘professionalization’ of the commanders and officers of the Roman army over time? During the Republic, army commanders were senatorial aristocrats who had gained the office of consul (or sometimes praetor), but while military duties were their most important role, military experience or competence was by no means always the major factor in determining who held these offices: a range of political and social factors might influence the outcome of elections. Nonetheless, during the middle Republican period it was evidently a requirement to have ten years’ military experience before one was eligible to hold political office.52 That experience could range from the pressures of active campaigning to the longueurs of garrison duty,53 but it does imply a concern to ensure familiarity with war on the part of those who might one day be commanding an army. It seems, too, that there were handbooks about aspects of military organization and procedure for use by military tribunes in this period,54 which might imply an appreciation of the value of providing some sort of training to junior officers. If so, however, it also seems that this appreciation diminished during the late Republican period, when the requirement of ten years’ service appears to have lapsed.55 The long service of ‘middle-cadre officers’ of the centurionate has also prompted some to regard them as having ‘become near professionals in daily practice through military activities, not by training in a military school or through enlistment in a mercenary force’.56 However, the reference here to the lack of any sort of training school is a tacit acknowledgement that the terminology of professionalism is being used in a much looser sense than in modern military studies of officer corps. During the Principate commanders continued to be drawn from the senatorial aristocracy, in their capacity as provincial governors, and since there are occasional references in the sources to viri militares (‘military 51 52 53 54 55 56 Huntington 1957; Janowitz 1960; Sandhoff and Segal 2014: 264–5. Polyb. 6.19.4, with discussion in Hopkins 1978: 27–8; Harris 1979: 11–14. Cf. the caution of Campbell (1987: 20 n. 42): ‘I am not certain how demanding the requirement to serve ten campaigns was in practice. The campaigning season might last only a few months and involve no fighting.’ Rawson 1971: 14–15 (= Rawson 1991: 36–7). Harris 1979: 12 n. 4; Birley 2000: 98. De Blois 2000: 13. 375 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 376 376 [362–382] Doug Lee men’), this has prompted some scholars to suggest that there was a group of aristocrats who gained particular experience in military command. The fact that a figure of Ronald Syme’s repute favoured the phrase has lent it credibility, even though in one of his later works he also acknowledged that ‘for generals of rank and station, the Romans, it is salutary to recall, set no great store by a prolonged training in the science of war’.57 Debate about the significance of these ‘military men’ has sometimes been framed in unhelpfully stark terms as a choice between characterizing commanders as either professional or amateur, rather than in terms of a spectrum. It has focused partly on the question of numbers – counting both individuals and years of experience in relevant posts – with gaps in the epigraphic record of careers leaving scope for uncertainty.58 However, there is also the question of cultural context and expectations. On this latter aspect, there seems little doubt that Roman society during the Principate did not place a high premium on the value of specialization, whether in military or administrative matters, with patronage the most important consideration in appointments.59 Moreover, there was no attempt to institutionalize the training of military commanders and officers. In the words of Brian Campbell, ‘the Romans had no military academy, no formal process for educating officers in ordnance, tactics and strategy, and no systematic means for testing the qualities of aspirants to top commands’.60 There are, then, some hints of recognition during the Republic and Principate of the value of training and experience for competency in military command, but not enough to warrant use of the term ‘professionalization’. The one period when a stronger case can be made for a move in this direction is late antiquity. From the mid-third century onwards, it was increasingly the case that senatorial aristocrats no longer held military commands. This development has sometimes been linked to a brief report that the emperor Gallienus (253–68) ‘was the first to prohibit senators from 57 58 59 60 Syme 1983: 323, with Campbell 1975: 11 n. 1 for references to Syme’s discussions of the term viri militares in earlier works. See Campbell 1975; Campbell 1984: 325–47; Mattern 1999: 16–20 (minimizing the importance attached to military experience); and Cornell 1993: 165–6; Birley 2000 (arguing that it was more significant). Campbell 1975: 27 (‘In the context of Roman society, ideas of specialisation and professionalism are largely anachronistic’); Saller 1982: ch. 3. With regard to the specialized roles of immunes discussed earlier, Speidel 2001 argues that their specialization does not appear to have improved their chances of promotion. Campbell 1987: 22; cf. Goldsworthy 1996: 122. Naiden 2007: 40 argues that the Macedonian army of Philip and Alexander was the first to have an officer corps, but differentiates this from professionalization. C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 377 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? undertaking a military career or entering the army’.61 However, the motive attributed to Gallienus is not a desire to improve military effectiveness, but rather ‘fear that imperial power would be transferred to the best of the nobility on account of his inactivity’ – in other words, concern about a military challenge from among the senatorial ranks. Moreover, the plausibility of the report of a specific prohibition on senators holding military commands has been doubted because of the gradual change in the character of senatorial careers, as reflected in the epigraphy of the third century.62 However, the broad shift is not in question. Military posts were increasingly held by individuals who had been career soldiers, a trend reinforced by the wider administrative reforms of the emperors Diocletian and Constantine. They themselves came from military backgrounds and effected a clear division between military and civilian posts.63 In particular, Constantine created the new senior military post of magister (‘master’),64 which facilitated the development of clearer career paths for ambitious military men, often starting as one of the junior officers known as protectores or domestici: ‘In the fourth century the corps of the protectores and the domestici served as a kind of staff college in which potential regimental commanders were given practical training and their initiative and capacity for taking responsibility was tested.’65 These officers are found serving as aides to senior commanders, thereby gaining experience of what more senior roles entailed. The best-known example is the future historian Ammianus Marcellinus who, as a protector, served under the magister Ursicinus in the 350s – although he did not go on to become a general himself.66 Also of relevance here is the Strategikon, the late sixth-century handbook for generals attributed to the emperor Maurice. Unlike most military treatises from antiquity, the Strategikon had official status, and it was not a literary composition but drew together a range of documentary materials relating to disciplinary regulations, drill, and campaign procedures. Hence, it is of great interest that its stated aim was to provide guidance to middle-ranking field officers ‘who aspire to be a general’ (preface 24) – an aim which carries considerable significance in the context of discussions about the professionalization of officers.67 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 Aur. Vict. Caes. 33.34 (at a later point (37.6) he refers to this measure as an edictum). De Blois 1976: 57–83; Christol 1982; Davenport 2018: 485–7, 534–9. Jones 1964: 43–4, 101. Jones 1964: 97; Demandt 1970: 560–2. Jones 1964: 638. See further Matthews 1989: 75–7. Rance 2004: 267–9. 377 C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 378 378 [362–382] Doug Lee At the same time, even by the sixth century and the end of antiquity there was still nothing remotely resembling an officer training college providing formal military education, so the term ‘professionalization’ is still probably best avoided.68 However, there does appear to have been a greater appreciation of the benefits of some degree of specialization over the course of late antiquity. To conclude: Augustus’ reforms to the character of the Roman legions were very important changes and included certain features which might be characterized as ‘professionalization’ – specifically, establishing a substantial period of service as the norm, with due rewards both during service and upon retirement. This allowed men to spend a significant portion of their adult life as soldiers and to support themselves through that role, in a way which had not formally been the case previously, even if there was movement towards that pattern in the final stages of the Republic. This development in turn facilitated the emergence of soldiers as a distinct social entity and subculture. The army also had a coherent hierarchy – another of Michael Howard’s criteria for professionalization. However, we have also noted some important qualifications to the idea of the Roman army as a professionalized body. There was no formal system for training officers, and the training of the rank and file was not as homogeneous or focused on mastery of a body of knowledge as one would expect from analogy with modern professions. Moreover, while the Roman military had a corporate identity, it did not govern itself or have autonomy in its work in the way that is expected of professions in the modern world. Above all, however, the slippery nature of the terminology ‘professional’ and ‘professionalization’ deserves emphasis. Because of the widespread familiarity of these terms in the context of modern professions, their use with reference to the Roman military risks importing unhelpful anachronistic and modernizing assumptions about the nature of the Roman army; it risks suggesting that the Roman imperial army was closer in its structures and ethos to more modern armies than was the case. So, while there are certain features which might be described as ‘professional’ in a loose sense, the wide range of connotations of this terminology makes it preferable to avoid this and cognate terms, and to speak instead of a paid standing army in the Roman imperial context. 68 Pace Birley 2000: 118 (‘the rise of the “true professional”’ identified from the later third century); James 2011: 243 (‘the development . . . of a fully professional officer corps’ by the fourth century); and Coulston 2015: 1013 (‘From the 3rd century CE onwards, commanders became “professionalized”’). C:/ITOOLS/WMS/CUP-NEW/22298747/WORKINGFOLDER/STEWART-HYB/9781108839471C13.3D 13.5.2020 7:51PM 379 [362–382] A Professional Roman Army? Bibliography Abercrombie, N., Hill, S., and Turner, B. S., 2006. The Penguin Dictionary of Sociology. London. Abrahamsson, B., 1972. Military Professionalization and Political Power. Beverly Hills. Alston, R., 1995. Soldier and Society in Roman Egypt: A Social History. London. 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