Tacitus on empires and wastelands | thearticle

Tacitus (born c. 56 AD) was one of the greatest Roman historians, whose _Annals_ and _Histories_ narrated the volatile condition of Rome’s political order of his day. His readers, then and

ever since, could see that these works communicated a subtext. Tacitus was by profession a diplomat, whose career took him to senior positions in Rome’s imperial administration. He would

have sensed that Rome’s empire must have looked impregnable to anyone looking out, from inside the capital. But, on the other hand, to anyone looking in from the outside, from the provinces,

cracks were apparent. Tacitus wrote two works that held up a mirror to his Roman peers, _De Germania_ and _Agricola. _Today we might describe these works as political counterfactuals. One

of these, _De Germania_, described in idealised terms the homespun ways of rustic Germanic folks, a relief for readers to set against smug, sophisticated Romans. _Agricola_ was a biography

of Tacitus’ father-in-law, Gnaeus Julius Agricola, who had overseen Roman peacekeeping missions in Britain. The Germans of _De Germania_ are based on hearsay, the Britons in _Agricola _came

to Tacitus by way of first-hand accounts heard from his father-in-law. Wrapped into this biography were long passages quoting the voices of native Britons. Tacitus commended Agricola for

bringing law and order to Britain: _“Certainly at no time was Britain more troubled, nor its fate more critical: veterans were butchered, Roman colonies burned, armies cut off from their

base; one day men fought for their lives and on the next day for triumph.”_ Agricola, for all his unequivocal loyalty to the interests of Rome, was also mindful that the aims of imperial

overlords were at odds with the interests of their subjects. To anyone who cared to read closely,_ Agricola_ in many places issued warnings: _ “Little by little the Britons went astray into

alluring vices: to the promenade, the bath, the well-appointed dinner table. The simple natives gave the name of ‘culture’ to this factor of their slavery.”_ Tacitus thus put his compatriots

on notice: Roman armies brought in tow stable social conditions and personal security. Still, Roman rule was brittle, for material comforts alone would not engender acquiescence. In fact,

once pacified, _“Britons began to discuss the evils of slavery, to compare their wrongs and inflame their grievances. Nothing is gained by submission, they argued, except that heavier

commands are laid on those who appear to be willing sufferers: in the old days they had had a king apiece; now two kings apiece are foisted on them — a governor to riot in bloodshed, an

Imperial Agent to work havoc on property.”_ Tacitus further described how Agricola quelled uprisings and planned to expand Rome’s reach to Ireland. But Agricola was mindful, Tacitus

affirmed, that once Rome’s legions were established in Ireland, _“Roman troops would be everywhere and liberty would sink, so to speak, below the horizon.”_ Agricola stopped short of

invading Ireland, but he did lead his troops into Scotland. There, on the eve of the decisive battle of Mons Graupius, Calgacus, the commander of the Scots, impressed on his warriors who and

what they were fighting against: _“To plunder, butcher, steal, these things they misname empire: they make a wasteland and they call it peace.”_ In the event, Agricola vanquished his foes,

and _“the Britons, scattering amid the mingled lamentations of men and women, began to drag away their wounded, to summon the unhurt, to abandon their homes, and even, in their resentment,

to set fire to them with their own hands. They selected hiding-places and as quickly renounced them: they took some counsel together, and then acted separately: sometimes they broke down at

the spectacle of their loved ones, more often it excited them; it was credibly reported that some of them laid violent hands upon wives and children, as it were in pity. The morrow revealed

more widely the features of the victory: everywhere was dismal silence, lonely hills, houses smoking to heaven.”_ Casual readers of Tacitus must have considered this record of a military

triumph a vindication of Roman statecraft, and the description of self-inflicted mayhem evidence of the need for Roman rule in the best interest of the barbarians who were vanquished. To

readers who looked ahead into the long term, on the other hand, _Agricola_ must have been disquieting. Tacitus’ foreboding over the fate of Rome was premature: when he died in c.120 AD, the

empire was still expanding. But not for much longer. And his intuition, if premature, was vindicated. Once Roman rule lost the hearts and minds of their subjects, the mightiest of empires of

the ancient world disintegrated. Its subjects were no longer grateful for the _Pax Romana_, having come instead to subscribe to the words of Calgacus: _solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant_

(“they make a wasteland and they call it peace”). A MESSAGE FROM THEARTICLE _We are the only publication that’s committed to covering every angle. We have an important contribution to make,

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