Greek History

I commence this review with a major contribution to the social history of classical Athens.¹ Athenian social history is traditionally focused on polarities of class, status, and gender; while these polarities were obviously important, it is equally significant to adopt an interactionist approach and explore the shape of encounters between people belonging to the same or different groups. Rafał Matuszewski has chosen to focus on the interactions and communication between male Athenian citizens: in particular, the various spaces in which those interactions took place, as well as the means of communication. As regards the spaces, he explores in detail the noisy streets, the Agora, the various shops, workshops, and places of commensality and entertainment, the baths, the gymnasia, and the palaestrae. This is an excellent synthesis of a large number of social spaces in classical Athens, which have never been explored in the same detail as, for example, sanctuaries and cemeteries. Equally fascinating is the second part of the work and its detailed exploration of the body as a means of communication, alongside elements of material culture like clothes, houses, and graves. The wealth of material that is collected and examined and the interactionist framework employed have the potential to revolutionize how we study Greek social and cultural history; it is to be hoped that Anglophone readers will make the effort to engage seriously with this important German book.

Moving from Athens to Sparta, Andrew Bayliss’ latest volume is an excellent example of another kind of book we need more of: the short synthesis on an important topic that manages to give non-specialist readers a quick overview, while also introducing them to the nature of the existing evidence, scholarly debates, and the process of historical interpretation.² The study of Sparta has been revolutionized over the last three decades, and the results of these numerous studies have not yet been synthesized adequately. Bayliss focuses on six large topics, presented in an engaging manner: the first is the structure of the Spartan polis, with its peculiar characteristics like the double monarchy, and the division of Sparta into a spectrum of unequal groups (homoioi, disfranchised citizens, perioikoi, helots). The second and third topics concern the lifestyle of Spartan citizens, including the role of austerity, war, commensality, and piety, as well as the system of Spartan education for the whole citizen population. Unsurprisingly, the fourth and fifth topics concern two major Spartan peculiarities that have generated endless discussion: the role of women in Spartan society and the helots (though the latter was the least satisfactory in the volume as a whole). Finally, the book offers a short overview of the reception of classical Sparta since antiquity, focusing in particular on the last two centuries. I also liked the relatively large number of illustrations of Spartan material culture, very well employed. If one is to complain about anything, it is the decision to focus exclusively on archaic and classical Sparta and forego later Spartan history; but clearly, given the limits of space for a short introduction, readers will find the choice largely defensible.

Two interesting works examine the subject of collective memory in ancient Greece, in particular in regard to warfare. The first book, by David Yates, focuses on the memory of the Persian Wars and the nature of Panhellenism in the classical period.³ Yates argues that the Persian Wars were not commemorated in this era through a Panhellenic script; instead, the individual poleis which participated in the collective struggle against the Persians used the memory of the wars to commemorate their own individual achievements and bolster their own claims as poleis. What Yates calls ‘transcendental Panhellenism’, celebrating the wars as a Panhellenic rather than individual polis achievement, existed as a latent possibility, but only came to the fore in the aftermath of Chaeroneia, when Philip destroyed the world of city-states and set the stage for the new Hellenistic world. Philip and Alexander's transcendental Panhellenic commemoration of the Persian Wars did not immediately succeed, but it triumphed during the Hellenistic and later periods. Yates's argument that the classical commemoration of the Persian Wars was framed by polis competition is convincing; but his view that the crucial development was the supposed collapse of the city-state after Chaeroneia is both wrong and unnecessary. What changed from Philip onwards was the emergence of major powers who could not claim a significant role in the Greek League that had defeated the Persians and therefore had to find a different way of memorializing the wars for their own ends. It is a pity that, while so much has happened in the study of the Greek polis and Hellenicity over the last twenty years, this book seems completely unaware of these developments; but the validity of its major claim about the classical commemoration of the Persian Wars can hopefully generate a fruitful debate on what exactly was Panhellenism.

The second volume, by Janett Schröder, concerns the collective memory of Greek poleis in regard to warfare.⁴ The volume focuses on the archaeological, literary, and epigraphic evidence for war monuments of the archaic and classical periods. The author examines how, in the course of time, Greek poleis devised various forms of victory monument and how they developed over time: we commence with the voluminous dedications of weapons in local, regional, and Panhellenic sanctuaries as a means of commemorating victory against opponents, a practice that gradually died out as we move into the classical period. Their place was taken over by collective burials for the war dead, the introduction of cults and festivals commemorating victory in war, and the creation of sculptural monuments and buildings. As should be expected, the Persian Wars figure as a major moment in the evolution of Greek commemorative practices; the books by Yates and Schröder could be profitably read together. While the discussion of war monuments is very convincing, the book would have benefited from engaging with recent scholarly developments regarding the wider metanarratives of the hoplite revolution and the development of the polis.

We move on to two very fascinating books concerning political thought and international relations in the ancient Greek world. The first, by Benjamin Earley, concerns the role of Thucydides in international relations (IR) theory in the first half of the twentieth century.⁵ Apart from specialists, few people are aware of how important classicists, such as Alfred Zimmern, played a defining role in the emergence of IR as a distinct field after the First World War. While the role of Thucydides in the development of historiography as a discipline has been studied in detail, there is no equivalent historiographical study of his role in the development of IR theory. Earley examines how a series of thinkers developed different views of Thucydides’ legacy in the context of their reactions to the Great War: Cornford and his view of Thucydides as a tragedian; Zimmern and the study of how Thucydides interprets the political psychology of different states; Toynbee and his interpretation of Thucydides as a narrator of a civilizational crisis and historical change; Abbott on Thucydides as a realist thinker; and finally, Enoch Powell, in his scholarly phase, and his emphasis on Thucydides’ amoral approach to politics. This is a rich and thought-provoking volume for a variety of reasons: its contribution to Thucydidean reception; the study of Thucydides’ thought; and, in fact, new ways of interpreting Thucydides’ text for the study of ancient Greek history.

The second volume takes us to the most neglected ancient empire: that of the Parthians. The main reason for this neglect is the nature of the available sources; mostly fragmentary Graeco-Roman sources with a hostile viewpoint and little interest in the complexity of the challenges faced by the Parthian Empire. Nicolas Overtoom's book is unavoidably a re-interpretation of those literary sources, alongside epigraphic, numismatic, and archaeological evidence; but what makes this book important is that it is the first attempt to interpret the Parthians from an IR perspective. Adopting a realist approach akin to that employed by Arthur Eckstein for the Mediterranean world, Overtoom argues that the anarchic geopolitical framework of the Hellenistic world meant that ancient states were equally belligerent; their differential success was linked to their capability to pursue their interests. He identifies three main peculiar Parthian capabilities: the versatility of Parthian society and their ability to employ and integrate elements from Greek, Mesopotamian, Iranian, and Central Asian cultures; their military innovations in terms of bringing to western Eurasia the cavalry tactics of the nomad world of Central Asia; and the abilities of the early generations of Parthian rulers. The volume covers the period from the emergence of the Parthian state in the third century bce to its transformation into a major empire in the first century bce; it rightly stresses the significance of major changes in the geopolitical framework of western Eurasia, as well as developments in Central Asia, in terms of interpreting the rise of the Parthians. But the work would have benefited widely from a concluding chapter, which could examine, even briefly, how the particular Parthian capabilities fared in the new conditions of the centuries ce.⁶

Having reached the Hellenistic period, we continue with a number of other interesting studies. Demetrius the Besieger was a key figure in the half-century between the death of Alexander and the consolidation of the Hellenistic kingdoms in the 270s bce; not only did he play a major role in most of these developments, but his life was also full of the melodramatic changes that make excellent movies. Nevertheless, not only is there no movie for Demetrius, but until now there has been no large-scale biography. This collaborative work by Pat Wheatley and Charlotte Dunn is an excellent attempt to piece together the highly fragmentary sources on Demetrius into a convincing biography, as well as an attempt to partially liberate Demetrius from the image of the fickle individual drawn by Plutarch.⁷ In the process, the authors offer an important overview of the age of the Successors, with significant implications both for the chronology of the period (favouring the high chronology), and for some of the major battles and other events of the period. What comes out very clearly from reading this fascinating narrative is the sheer extent to which events play a major role in historical outcomes and how periods like the age of the Successors are open to the intersection between different and divergent causal chains.

The next work under review is a collection of essays on Seleucid studies, edited by Roland Oetjen.⁸ This volume, a Festschrift for Getzel Cohen, includes forty-five chapters by renowned specialists in Seleucid and more generally Hellenistic history. Given the size of the volume and the lack of an overall introduction, the book will be undoubtedly read more for the individual contributions rather than as a whole; but there are hardly any aspects of Seleucid studies which are not covered by some of these contributions. Among the main themes, one finds the usual focus on dynastic history, with interesting contributions on the role of royal women, on the structure and administration of the Seleucid kingdom, and on relations between the Seleucid and other Hellenistic kingdoms; equally expected, given the honouree, and interesting are chapters on the various kinds of Seleucid settlements. The volume also includes a large number of contributions on the sources for Seleucid history: Greek and Jewish literary sources, coinage, and some archaeological evidence, such as figurines and bricks. Finally, a particularly rich trove of chapters examines the complex mosaic of societies and cultures within the Seleucid kingdom and the intercultural relations between them, in particular in Babylonia, the Levant, and the Far East.

Stefan Feuser's monumental study of port cities in the eastern Mediterranean in the Hellenistic and Roman Imperial periods is a major contribution to the study of Greek maritime history.⁹ While there were various kinds of ports in the ancient Mediterranean, Feuser chooses to focus on major ports with crucial roles in transregional maritime networks; the bulk of the volume consists of a series of case studies of such ports that archaeological work makes it possible to examine in detail: Miletus and Ephesus in Asia Minor, Caesarea Maritima in the Levant, Alexandria in Egypt, and, somewhat surprising, Leptis Magna in Libya. The author examines the role of the ports and their installations in the urban development of these cities, and the role of the ports and seafaring for the economic, social, and cultural life of these communities; he shows that the link between the cities and their ports varied depending on time and circumstances, and documents the extensive effort that constructing and maintaining those ports required. But what is truly fascinating, and links it to the study by Matuszewski examined above, is the exploration of ports as spaces of life and interaction between the members of the maritime communities that inhabited and used them.

This review includes a number of works on Greek military history, most of them about the Hellenistic period as well. Melanie Jonasch has edited a truly splendid volume on the impact of war on the societies, politics, and landscapes of Sicily, from the archaic period to the Roman conquest.¹⁰ Consisting of seventeen chapters, alongside a short prologue and epilogue, the book offers a panorama of how violence, in its various guises, affected Sicily. Many chapters pay close attention to the archaeological imprint of war: the presence of weapons in the archaeological record, with two chapters on finds from Selinous; the impact of war on urban structures and landscapes (with studies of Syracuse, Leontinoi, and Eryx); and an impressive overview of the military landscapes of Sicily by Jonasch, which should inspire other regional syntheses. A second theme of particular importance is the link between warfare and human mobility, in particular regarding mercenaries, enslaved persons, and the foundation of new settlements. A third axis focuses on major conflicts involving Sicily, including two chapters on the Athenian expedition and one on the First Punic War. We urgently need more regional syntheses like the present volume for Sicily. More generally, despite its evident importance, Sicily has never figured centrally in how we conceptualize the development of Greek history, whether we think about geopolitics, state formation, or mobility. This volume is an excellent example of why we should strive more in this direction, and hopefully a powerful stimulus as well.

I conclude with three volumes from the Pen and Sword Military series. Two of them are written by Philip Matyszak: the first examines the rise of the Hellenistic kingdoms between 336 and 250 bce,¹¹ while the second focuses on the Roman conquest of the Greek world between 250 and 31 bce.¹² The first volume presents the wars of the late classical and early Hellenistic period, from the conquests of Alexander the Great to the wars of the Successors and the formation of the major Hellenistic kingdoms; at the same time, the author aims to complement the military narrative with a sociocultural history of the Hellenistic world, covering the rich tapestry of states and cultures that extended from Sicily to the Indus. The second book focuses more on the Roman conquest of the Hellenistic eastern Mediterranean, covers a much wider time range, and devotes far less space to sociocultural history. Alongside the wide range of time and space covered, both books are written in a lively manner which is often engaging; unfortunately, they are also seriously marred by a number of major problems. Regarding the military narrative, the volumes are merely descriptive, without trying to offer any explanations for the outcomes beyond platitudes, such as the superiority of Greek infantry and then of the Roman legions; and the sociocultural analysis is hopelessly old-fashioned and derivative, full of highly misleading statements (‘the Seleucid Empire was a political entity that transcended nationalism’ [Greece against Rome, 192]). The author has not taken advantage of the development of Hellenistic scholarship over the last few decades, from the cultural history of warfare and the subaltern experience of soldiers to the geopolitical framework of state competition in the Hellenistic world and the history of intercultural relations. To cap it all, there are plenty of mistakes: Matyszak describes the Seleucid rule over Jews in a volume that ends in 250 bce, seemingly unaware that they were under Ptolemaic rule; believes that Persia had abolished slavery; and thinks that Pergamon was the site where the mercenaries of Cyrus finally reached the sea in their long trek from Mesopotamia.

The third volume from this series under review is quite different, as it focuses more specifically on Hellenistic armies, rather than on military history in general.¹³ Written by Gabriele Esposito, it attempts to cover all Macedonian and Hellenistic armies, from the armies of Philip and Alexander through the major Hellenistic armies (Antigonid, Seleucid, and Ptolemaic) to the less well-known armies of the smaller kingdoms in Asia Minor, Israel, Bactria, and India, and the armies of the Greek poleis and ethne. Unsurprisingly, given the short size of the book and the limits of the available information, as well as the vast temporal and spatial extent covered, in many cases what we are offered is a short summary of campaigns and army structure; but it is undoubtedly a useful introduction for the lay reader. The value of the book lies rather in the seventy-seven colour images, which constitute about half its space and depict the armour and weapons of Hellenistic armies based on the work of the Hetairoi re-enactment group. The book does not explain on what evidence these modern life-size reconstructions of weapons and equipment have been based, and they are unfortunately not sufficiently discussed in the text. Nonetheless, these reconstructions are highly stimulating and deserve to be carefully pondered by those interested in Hellenistic warfare.