Restraint, Conflict, and the Fall of the

Roman Republic Paul Belonick

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/restraint-conflict-and-the-fall-of-the-roman-republic-pa
ul-belonick/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

The Fall of the Roman Republic: Roman History, Books

36-40 (Oxford World's Classics) Dio

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-fall-of-the-roman-republic-
roman-history-books-36-40-oxford-worlds-classics-dio/

Cato the Younger: life and death at the end of the

Roman republic Cato

https://ebookmass.com/product/cato-the-younger-life-and-death-at-
the-end-of-the-roman-republic-cato/

Cato The Younger: Life And Death At The End Of The

Roman Republic Fred K Drogula

https://ebookmass.com/product/cato-the-younger-life-and-death-at-
the-end-of-the-roman-republic-fred-k-drogula/

A Noble Ruin: Mark Antony, Civil War, and the Collapse

of the Roman Republic W. Jeffrey Tatum

https://ebookmass.com/product/a-noble-ruin-mark-antony-civil-war-
and-the-collapse-of-the-roman-republic-w-jeffrey-tatum/
Uncommon Wrath. How Caesar and Cato's Deadly Rivalry
Destroyed the Roman Republic Josiah Osgood

https://ebookmass.com/product/uncommon-wrath-how-caesar-and-
catos-deadly-rivalry-destroyed-the-roman-republic-josiah-osgood/

The Roman Empire in Crisis, 248-260 Paul N Pearson

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-roman-empire-in-
crisis-248-260-paul-n-pearson/

The Rise and Fall of the Age of Psychopharmacology

Edward Shorter

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-rise-and-fall-of-the-age-of-
psychopharmacology-edward-shorter/

The Rise and Fall of the Neoliberal Order Gary Gerstle

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-rise-and-fall-of-the-
neoliberal-order-gary-gerstle-2/

The Rise and Fall of the Neoliberal Order Gary Gerstle

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-rise-and-fall-of-the-
neoliberal-order-gary-gerstle/
Restraint, Conflict, and the Fall of the
Roman Republic
Restraint, Conflict, and
the Fall of the Roman
Republic
PAU L B E L O N IC K
 Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers
the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education
by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University
Press in the UK and certain other countries.

Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press

198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America.

© Oxford University Press 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in

a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the
prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted
by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction
rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the
above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the
address above.

You must not circulate this work in any other form

and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.

Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data

Names: Belonick, Paul, author.
Title: Restraint, conflict, and the fall of the Roman Republic /​
Paul Belonick.
Description: New York : Oxford University Press, [2023] |
Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2022027476 (print) | LCCN 2022027477 (ebook) |
ISBN 9780197662663 (hardback) | ISBN 9780197662687 (epub) |
ISBN 9780197662694
Subjects: LCSH: Rome—​Politics and government—​265-​30 B.C. |
Social values—​Rome. | Political culture—​Rome. | Moderation. | Self-​control.
Classification: LCC DG254 .B45 2023 (print) | LCC DG254 (ebook) |
DDC 937/​.02—​dc23/​eng/​20220701
LC record available at https://​lccn.loc.gov/​202​2027​476
LC ebook record available at https://​lccn.loc.gov/​202​2027​477

DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780197662663.001.0001

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2
Printed by Integrated Books International, United States of America
familiae optimae
 Contents

Acknowledgments  ix

Introduction  1

PA RT I : VA LU E S , T E R M S , A N D PAT T E R N S

1. Shame, Respect, and Deference  15

2. Moderatio, Modestia, and Temperantia  37
3. Setting Norms  51

PA RT I I : R E ST R A I N T, C O N F L IC T, A N D C O L L A P SE

4. Tiberius Gracchus  83
5. Uncertainty  102
6. Cataclysm  121
7. The Lost Generation of the Republic  137
8. Restraint as Accelerator  168

Epilogue  187
Bibliography  197
Index  221
 Acknowledgments

This book is based on the PhD dissertation I completed under E.A. Meyer at the
University of Virginia, to whom I owe an incalculable debt. The project began
in 2011 at a lunch where we thought about possible topics. “We know that com-
petition makes the Roman Republic go, like a car,” I recall her saying, “but what
makes the car brake, or at least stay on the road so long?” I hope this book helps
us find an answer. I cannot adequately express my appreciation for her guidance
and pedagogy over these many years.
Special thanks go to Prof. J.E. Lendon, whose wonderful support and advice
have also spanned these many years, and who formed and shaped early drafts of
this work in the proverbial refiner’s fire. I am particularly grateful to Prof. A.J.
Woodman, who shared his renowned expertise on Roman rhetoric and histor-
ical sourcing, and whose incisive comments and suggestions for improvement
sharpened the book’s arguments immeasurably. Gratitude is also due to the rest
of my dissertation committee, Profs. J. Crawford, J. Dillery, and C. McCurdy,
whose assistance I treasure. All errors remain, of course, my own.
None of this would be possible without my undergraduate professors, Profs.
C. Rubino and B. Gold at Hamilton College, who first taught me Latin and Greek
and the love of the classics. I am forever indebted to them. I am also grateful for
the support of my family and many friends, who have understood and endured
the time and work that this study has taken.
Finally, and most deeply, to my wife, who made this book possible. She will-
ingly took on extra time to look after our small boys or to finish tasks while
I raced to the library or typed late into the night, all while handling an enor-
mously busy schedule of her own. In return, she gave me only ever more encour-
agement. I cannot have done this without her patience and love.
 Introduction

In June 43 BC, an anxious Cicero wrote to his friend Brutus. Julius Caesar was
dead at Brutus’ hand, but civil war continued, while an “internal disease” in
the Republic “grew more severe daily.” Young Octavian—​the future Emperor
Augustus, by now styling himself “Caesar” after his assassinated great-​uncle—​
seemed prey to a frightening desire for power, and the city was restive. And so
Cicero feared for the Republic: it should have been immortal, he lamented, but
was not, because nothing inhibited insolent would-​be despots from demanding
as much as they had the power to take:

Neither reason (ratio), nor moderation (modus), nor law (lex), nor custom
(mos), nor duty has any strength, nor do the judgment and esteem of the citi-
zenry (existimatio civium), nor shame (verecundia) at what posterity will think.

To Cicero, these forces of restraint normally prevented ambitious men from

disrupting the state. In his eyes, they were failing, and res publica with them.1
Some decades later, Livy portrayed the abuses of the last Roman king, Tarquin
the Proud. According to the legend, Tarquin had his predecessor, King Servius
Tullius, assassinated, while mocking him as the son of a slave then denying him
proper burial. Tarquin put to death eminent senators who grew too popular, and
refused to appoint replacements so that, as Livy put it, the Senate “might be-
come more contemptible for its very smallness, and then less indignant at being
ignored.” He broke the tradition of taking the advice of the Senate and made
treaties without collaborating with either the Senate or the People. He tried all
legal cases without advice and judged as he pleased so he could steal the accused’s
goods. His own children could not tolerate his superbia—​his arrogance toward
others. Resistance to him ignited into revolution.2
The extent to which Livy related any history here or just pure folktale is hotly
debated, but at all events the portrait demonstrated that a good republican
Roman must be what the Tarquin of fable was not—​and Tarquin’s traits were the

1 Cic. ad Brut. 1.10.1: ingravescit enim in dies intestinum malum, 1.10.3: non ratio non modus non

lex non mos non officium valet non iudicium non existimatio civium non posteritatis verecundia,
1.10.5.
2 Livy 1.48, 1.49.5, 1.49.6: quo contemptior paucitate ipsa ordo esset, minusque per se nihil agi

indignarentur, 1.49.7, 1.54.1. Cf. Cic. de Rep. 2.45; Dio 2.10.1 (Zon. 7.9).

Restraint, Conflict, and the Fall of the Roman Republic. Paul Belonick, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press
2023. DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780197662663.003.0001
2 Introduction

precise inverse of Cicero’s list to Brutus. Tarquin displayed no respect for custom,
no moderation, no shame. His contempt for Senate and citizenry lacked care for
the opinion of others or respect for his office. His refusal to show deference to
senators and commons alike was intemperate. He lacked any self-​control and
dripped avarice. His own posterity hated his arrogance. His sobriquet said it all.3
One hundred and sixty years after Livy, the Alexandrian historian Appian
wrote of Lucius Cornelius Sulla’s bloody march on Rome against his coun-
trymen in 88 BC to “free her,” in Sulla’s reasoning, “from tyrants.” Although
rivalries had long been common in the Republic, there had never been such
widespread and sickening violence as that which followed. Why this time?
Appian answered: “There was no longer restraint on violence either from a sense
of shame, or from the laws, or from civil institutions, or from love of country.”
Elsewhere he added “reputation,” and “respect for office-​holding status” to the
list of absent values that led to discord and murder—​items parallel to Cicero’s
“opinion of the citizenry” and to deference.4
The commonality of these opinions is not surprising to anyone familiar with
the ancient sources on the Roman Republic, both Greek and Roman, contem-
porary and late, and particularly those writing in or about its well-​documented
last century. The sources are filled with endless worry about failing “morals” and
lost self-​control, moderation, modesty, temperance, and shame. Separated by
decades or centuries, and describing times even more diverse, myriad authors
shared a common theory: a functional Republic required citizens who displayed
vigilant personal self-​control, moderation, and deference to others.
This ubiquitous commonality, however, calls for explanation, particularly be-
cause self-​restraint is the seeming opposite of another fundamental cultural fea-
ture of the Roman Republic: keen self-​advancement. Historians now generally
accept that Roman ascendance was attributable to the uncommonly ravenous
competitiveness of the Roman aristocracy—​those few members of Roman so-
ciety whose families achieved high offices and military commands—​with their
enemies, ancestors, and among themselves. From early youth a Roman noble
boy was taught to be the best of all his peers and better than his forbears. The
walls of his home displayed the wax funeral masks of his relatives and the spoils
of their victories, labeled with their magnificent deeds, while he was exhorted at
funerals to surpass the dead man’s achievements. The climax of the competition
for self-​promotion was the triumph, in which a victorious commander dressed
as Jupiter—​a god for a day. Empire flowed from this competition as Roman elites

3
Cf. Dunkel (1971) 19; Hammar (2013) 166.
4
App. B.C. 1.4.33: οὐδένα ἔτι ὠφελούσης οὔτε ἐλευθερίας οὔτε δημοκρατίας οὔτε νόμων οὔτε
ἀξιώσεως οὔτε ἀρχῆς, 1.7.57: ἐλευθερώσων αὐτὴν ἀπὸ τῶν τυραννούντων, 1.7.60: οὐδενὸς ἔτι ἐς
αἰδῶ τοῖς βιαζομένοις ἐμποδὼν ὄντος, ἢ νόμων ἢ πολιτείας ἢ πατρίδος.
 Introduction 3

sought to win dignitas (“standing” or “esteem”) and high electoral offices through
successful conquests in Italy, then the Mediterranean, then beyond.5
Modern historians, particularly in the last few decades, have modeled this
competition’s interplay with Roman culture and politics. Power in ancient Rome,
as scholars now realize, was not so much a matter of “institutions” or “structures”
as it was a more fluid, semiformal social arrangement, a kind of “performative-​
competitive politics” mediated through acts of public display, ceremonies, and
spectacles that placed rulers and ruled into a framework of reciprocal relations
through shared symbolic practices and public exchanges of praise and votes.
Aristocrats held power and influence because they competed to win public
symbolic capital—​ victories, reputation, offices, family histories—​ possession
of which gave them the traditional right to control the government, which
gave them further symbolic capital. The formal structures and offices of the
Republic, too, were shored up by performative-​competitive, symbolic cultural
features: aristocrats contending for office in public speeches, canvassing about
with visibly large crowds of clients in their wake, and so on. Competition also
helps explain the Republic’s governing structures (e.g., its hierarchies of offices),
its rigid social stratifications, and even the aristocracy’s interactions with the
common People, who participated in the performative-​competitive Roman po-
litical system by judging the competition among the elite with their votes, cheers,
or hisses.6
What role could that ubiquitous commonality of self-​restraint play in such a
competitive framework? Unfortunately, modern analyses are still lacking, largely
because modern historians have been (correctly) chary of swallowing whole the
Romans’ own thesis that their society collapsed because of lost “morals.” That
concern long made it unfashionable (at best) to suggest that Roman politics and
Roman plaints over “morality” had much to do with each other. Accordingly,
scholars of Rome saw those ubiquitous references to self-​restraint as a mere lit-
erary trope, rhetorical platitude, or philosophical nicety, “a tedious common-
place, whose literary history may be traced by the zealous but whose frequent

5 Polyb. 6.53; Sall. B.J. 1.4.5–​6; Pliny, N.H. 35.6; Flaig (1993) 199–​200; Wiseman (1994) 98–​102;

Flower (1996); Beard (2003); Hölkeskamp (2010) 112–​115; Covino (2011) 74; Mouritsen (2017) 96–​
104; Beck (2018).
6 The literature on performative politics has ballooned since the mid-​1990s, and now generally

analyzes the People’s key role in it as well: e.g., Bernstein (1978) 195; Millar (1984) 10–​14; Develin
(1985) 55, (2005); Rosenstein (1990) 154, (2006); Flaig (1993), (1995); Lintott (1994) 10–​15, 45–​
46; Meier (1995) 12; Hölkeskamp (1993), (2006) 364, (2009) 8–​9, (2010) 1–​5, 16, 56–​60, 109–​124,
(2011a) 162, (2011b) 26–​30, (2013); David (2000) 29–​30; Martin (2002) 167–​171; Sumi (2005); Jehne
(2005); Patterson (2006) 346–​350; McDonnell (2006) 185–​195; Pittinger (2008); Wiseman (2009);
Lundgreen (2011) 260; Morstein-​Marx (2011) 272; Steel (2013) 42–​46, 51–​53; Hammar (2013) 87–​
92; Flower (2014); Harris (2016) 37–​40; Gruen (2017) 559; Yakobson (2006), (2017), (2018); Rosillo-​
López (2017); Tiersch (2018) 39. On the theory of social capital see Bourdieu (1991) 192, (1993b)
162–​163.
4 Introduction

recurrence requires no real explanation.”7 The unhappy effect has been largely to
jettison “morals” from comprehensive analyses of Roman culture, history, and
politics.
Nearly thirty years ago, Catherine Edwards rightly challenged that view,
arguing that aristocratic attacks on the perceived immorality or prodigality of
other aristocrats were a social marker, “implicated in defining what it meant
to be a member of the Roman elite, in excluding outsiders from this powerful
and privileged group and in controlling insiders,” with perhaps some small ad-
ditional practical benefits of enforcing hierarchy and discouraging elites from
losing their status by frittering away their means.8 Some historians have since
taken the thought further, arguing that moralizing was an “arbitrary” way for the
elite to justify its privileged social position and to seem grave and “responsible.”9
In time, aspects of Roman self-​control have come under expanded inquiry, in-
cluding fine semantic and single-​word lexicographical studies on concepts such
as shame, virtus, and frugalitas. And, in a refreshing trend, scholars have also
recently begun investigating how social values were expected to exercise real
power in Rome, especially through oratory.10
Still, despite much good work, the advances since Edwards’ efforts that scholars
have made in modeling the performative-​competitive system invite us to com-
bine these trends and to update and rethink holistically what work the range of
concepts relating to self-​control did in Roman society, why the Romans seemed
so paradoxically obsessed with self-​restraint within a competitive schema, how
self-​control interlocked with aristocratic competition and with other aspects of
Roman performative politics, and what difference it made to their history. This
book aims to make three contributions on these lines.
First, to show how Rome’s political structures and its performative politics
were deeply shaped by values of self-​restraint. Performative competition alone
cannot fully describe the Republic’s operation. The society would have collapsed
into fratricidal chaos almost immediately if everything were nothing but con-
stant war of all against all. The development of the republican system of lim-
ited, iterative, and collegial elective office-​holding was a partial salve to chaos.
Indeed, we can conceive of the Republic as a system that organized the com-
petition for the distribution of honors, allocating competitive offices and other

7 Edwards (1993) 176, citing numerous scholarly examples. Cf. Henry (1937) 27–​ 28; Pelling
(1995) 206; Wallace-​Hadrill (2008) 319.
8 Edwards (1993) 11–​12, 138, 175–​180.
9 David (2000) 23; Hölkeskamp (2006), (2017); Reay (2005) 352; Hammar (2013) 109. On the

cultural “arbitrary,” an intrinsically valueless thing that acts as a valued social marker, see Bourdieu
and Passeron (1977) 8; Edwards (1993) 4, 26.
10 E.g., Burck (1951) 167–​174; Hellegouarc’h (1963); Dieter (1967); d’Agostino (1969); Viparelli

Santangelo (1976); Militerni Della Morte (1980); Moore (1989); Scheidle (1993); Lintott (1994) 49;
Perruchio (2005); Kaster (1999), (2005); Thomas (2007); Tatum (2011); Hammar (2013); Balmaceda
(2017); Vervaet (2017); David (2017); Roller (2018); Gildenhard and Viglietti (2020).
 Introduction 5

prizes according to an electoral process based on generally acknowledged merit,

which was usually determined by an admixture of military success, wealth hon-
estly gained, family history, and speaking ability. The system also gave the People
a consistent stake in its operation, which lent it stability, as did the shared perfor-
mative and symbolic cultural features just mentioned.
Even so, the republican system was no cure-​all: it was ad hoc, unwritten, sub-
ject to formalized legislative rules only astoundingly late in its progression, and
riddled with unpredictable accretions and exceptions, while its connection to
performative power placed it in constant danger from the Roman competitive-
ness entangled with it. The Romans were habitually anxious that a single man
might—​even by genuinely exceptional merit—​raise himself so far above his
fellows as to deprive everyone else of their chances at glory. Naturally, too, ambi-
tious individuals might “cheat” to win, while excessive rivalry and personal feuds
could disrupt the system as well. And in the end, of course, the system and its
structures failed utterly to contain the competition as the Republic devolved into
civil wars.11
Nevertheless, in the face of these omnipresent dangers, the Romans man-
aged to run a Republic for more than four hundred and fifty years. What kept the
system cohesive, and for so long? Why, at last, did this finely tuned social struc-
ture collapse, and why did that collapse come when it did? Even as our modeling
of the performative-​competitive system has improved, these questions remain
stubbornly unanswered. Something is still missing from the performative-​
competitive analytical models.12
This book argues that a set of Roman values of self-​control provides vital
missing pieces to those questions, and, by bringing those missing pieces into
the analytical fold, bolsters the modern models. A vast array of ancient Roman
authors used words such as pudor, verecundia, existimatio, modus, moderatio,
modestia, and temperantia (and many adjacent concepts) with uncanny fre-
quency to express moderating values of self-​control. Greek historians noticed
these values at work in Roman society as well, and used words such as αἰδώς,
δόξα, μετριότης, ἐπιείκεια, εὐταξία, and σωφροσύνη to approximate the Roman
concepts.13 Most important, even when the ancient authors did not overtly
use the words themselves, the mindsets and actions that the words expressed
appeared regularly in the authors’ descriptions of historical events and of their
subjects’ patterns of behavior.
I will call these concepts and patterns of behavior collectively “restraint
values” or “restraint norms,” which made up a restraint-​permeated habitus, in

11 Cf. Beck (2016).

12 Cf. Morstein-​Marx and Rosenstein (2006) 634–​635; Mouritsen (2017) 105.
13 TLL 8 1205, 1220–​1221; V,2 Fasc. X 1512; X,2 Fasc. XVI 2492. On the Greek terms see North

(1966); Cairns (1993); Rademaker (2005).

6 Introduction

the sense of sociologist Pierre Bourdieu: an immersive social context, presumed

to be self-​evidently correct and that becomes unconscious second nature, that
deeply valued self-​control, and that affected how Roman men thought and acted.
Together, I argue, these restraint values and their habitus were moderating social
factors that acted as meta-​rules for running the republican competition, permit-
ting the system to continue along intelligible lines, and legitimizing competitive
self-​assertion and claims to power.14
As such, Roman restraint values were more than just “arbitrary” social markers
of the elite in-​group and were not mere personal ethical values or empty rhetoric.
Rather, one of this book’s central contentions is that restraint values had posi-
tive political content that the Romans believed requisite to res publica’s health.
Such values were prized because they undergirded and regulated the peculiar,
unwritten republican system and its semiformal structures. Without restraint,
dignitas (whence came power and influence) was considered overbearing and
unjust, even if given by law or election. Restraint therefore validated power in
the fluid republican framework. Moreover, the values encouraged respect for the
competition’s validity and helped to inform everyone how to compete and act,
and to whom to defer and whom to obey. The values aided Roman aristocrats’
understanding of the system’s rules, and created a sense of cohesion among the
aristocracy and People when acknowledging the “winners” in the competition,
which also legitimized the competitive “game.” And because the republican
system was so interlaced with performative symbolism, Roman men were ex-
pected to display the values publicly, and did so—​sometimes spectacularly—​
even competing in exhibiting them, for which they were duly rewarded by both
peers and the common People (who also expected their rulers to display these
values) with praise and electoral success. Hence, the symbolic capital that men
gained in the competition by display of the values advanced the kind of men
willing and able to maintain the system.15
Accordingly, the values did not curb competition entirely, but regulated it: if
everyone understood and followed constraining rules, the ruling elite could the-
oretically keep competing among themselves and passing around honors and
offices indefinitely with reasonable assurance that relative merit—​and not vio-
lence, bribery, or other undesirable methods—​would determine to whom the
prizes would be acceptably distributed. The competition would therefore have
meaning; in that sense, restraint complemented competition, and thus legiti-
mized the exercise of republican power.

14 Bourdieu and Passeron (1977) 8; Bourdieu (1993b) 5; Lundgreen (2011) 34. For norms as un-

written behavioral expectations, see Bruhns (2017); Humm (2017) 301–​302; Lundgreen (2017) 18;
Roller (2018) 8 n.10.
15 Cf. Millar (1986) 4; Hölkeskamp (2006), (2014b) 44, (2017); Morstein-​Marx (2011) 272; van

Wees (2011) 3; Hurlet (2012) 27–​32, 38.

 Introduction 7

To be clear: this is not to say that there was ever some golden age of “moral”
self-​control. Romans, being human, always had disagreements, sometimes
strident, throughout the Republic’s history. Behavioral norms were constantly
contested, as we will see. But that process of contestation does not mean that nor-
mative behavior was nonexistent, or not respected. Rather, contestation could
strengthen norms as disputes over proper behavior were resolved, the actors
praised or punished, and the contested incident commemorated for consump-
tion by the peer group and their descendants. Thus, for much of the republican
period, and particularly after the aristocracy formed in the late 300s into what
has been called the “new nobility,” the norms congealed through contestation,
waxing rather than (as later Romans supposed) ever-​waning, until by the third
and into the second century BC the habitus settled reasonably well into place,
and a critical mass of aristocrats was generally capable of managing by consensus
and norms the tension between self-​advancement and self-​restraint, and of
containing would-​be miscreants nonviolently through restraint mechanisms.16
In sum, norms of personal self-​restraint were a sine qua non of the perfor-
mative Roman political system–​cum–​aristocratic competition. That—​and not
the values’ role in elite self-​definition alone or as literary niceties or oratorical
commonplaces—​explains why the Romans were so preoccupied with them. In
this way this study unifies analytical models of performative competition for
personal self-​advancement with the Republic’s endless harping on personal
self-​restraint.
The book’s second contribution is to apply restraint to the arc of Roman his-
tory through several focused analyses and sustained historical narratives. This
method reveals how restraint influenced specific social contexts and long trends
within which individuals made their decisions, and brings new insights to
much-​examined cases. Most important, it follows the primary (if not sole) so-
cial perspective—​“Is this actor properly restrained or not?”—​through which the
Romans themselves judged action, and thus sensitizes us to their own decision-​
making and reactions to events in real time (what Karl-​Joachin Hölkeskamp has
invited as a study of historical “microprocesses”). Hence, the values will take
their proper place as historical causal forces in their own right.17
The third contribution is to combine these observations into the book’s main
thesis: that restraint norms were central to the Republic’s disintegration—​but
not in some crude linear deterioration from good mores to evil, as so many late,
moralizing Roman authors imagined. Rather, because restraint norms were

16 Cf. Morstein-​Marx and Rosenstein (2006) 634–​635; Lundgreen (2011) 14, 23–​24, 118, 279,

282–​284, 302; Passet (2020) 192.

17 Cf. Earl (1967) 17; Corbeill (1996) 24; Wallace-​Hadrill (1997) 9: the “main, indeed the only,

Roman theory of the fall of the Republic is, in our terms, a cultural one: of the corruption of mores”;
Jehne (2009) 12–​15; Hammar (2013) 180; Hölkeskamp (2014b) 43–​44.
8 Introduction

principles integral to the competitive system, they became corrosive flashpoints

of conflict when, in time and in shifting contexts, they came up for hot debate.
The process was fourfold: (1) Just as noble Roman boys had “be the best”
drummed into their heads from birth, so too countless exempla, speeches,
poems, plays, and other lessons also conditioned into them the principle that
self-​restraint, deference, and consensus were self-​evidently correct behavior
indispensable to the prime directive of maintaining legitimate republican gov-
ernance. The restraint values, though, were behavioral norms, and could never
be more than outlined, passed down more through general exempla and such
than through systematic definition.18 (2) Because the restraints were nor-
matively forceful but unavoidably subject to dispute, serious conflicts arose
about their practice in novel circumstances as the Republic moved through
time. The Romans attempted to use restraint norms to determine winners in
these conflicts and to delineate legitimate exercises of power. (3) Such conflicts
about normative behavior required judges to mediate them, judges who—​self-​
referentially—​needed to be seen by the disputants as normatively acceptable for
their judgments to merit deference. The very judges of normative behavior, how-
ever, became in time normatively questionable figures amid the conflicts. (4) At
which point, as a series of factors converged (described in Chapters 4 and 5),
the conflicts became unjudgable and intractable. But because the Romans had
tightly linked “proper” restraint with legitimate participation in the republican
competition, the unresolved turmoil in restraint led to turmoil in political legit-
imacy, while the nobility’s conditioning kindled ever hotter emotion at intrac-
table perceived deviance. That turmoil and emotion led to increasing mistrust
that “regular” republican institutions were sufficient to contain illegitimate
“deviants,” compromise with “deviants” being imagined as treason to the prime
directive, dehumanization, and then violence, until the normally restrained re-
publican competition turned into unrestrained conflict.
In short, the Roman aristocratic consensus was formed and then cracked
along axes of personal self-​restraint. Not because the norms were objectively
forsaken (as a forlorn Cicero or Sallust or Livy might interpret events), or be-
cause aristocrats collectively defied their conditioning, but ironically because the
values remained to the very end of the Republic normatively desirable, essential
to the competition, and emotionally gripping. We will see not a neat dichotomy
of restrained and unrestrained persons—​the former looking on aghast as the
latter destroyed the Republic—​but rather a tangle of arguments, with a surfeit

18 Cf. Lundgreen (2017) 20, 27; Badel (2017) 551–​552. On aristocratic education and the forma-

tion of a habitus, see Eyre (1963) 47–​48; Bonner (1977); Bourdieu and Passeron (1977) 8; Wiseman
(1989), (2000); Harker et al. (1990) 16; Bourdieu (1993b) 5; Habinek (1998); Corbeill (2001) 263-​266,
(2007); Flaig (2003); Forsythe (2005) 294–​295; Billows (2009) 35; Gildenhard (2010); Lundgreen
(2011) 33–​34; Scholz (2011); Roller (2018) 9.
 Introduction 9

of emotion. Opponents all claimed themselves as restrained (which explains

the values’ omnipresence in the sources) even as divided audiences became ever
more unable to form a normatively acceptable critical mass able to adjudicate
contested behavior conclusively or to cow “bad” actors into submission (which
explains the sources’ persistent, if always one-​sided, lamenting that “morals” had
become lost). As restraint came into impassioned dispute, it weakened determin-
ations of republican legitimacy tied to it and also the guiding meta-​rules within
the performative-​competitive system, and begat violence against competitors
perceived as desecrating normative principles believed indispensable to the
Republic’s well-​being—​competitors who thus became mortal enemies to be
eradicated.19
The book is divided into two parts. Part I, “Values, Terms, and Patterns,”
sets the baseline, exploring the restraint values in three chapters. Chapter 1,
“Shame, Respect, and Deference,” describes the norm of deference, not merely
to superiors, but to peers, colleagues, and groups of peers; a deference under-
girded by social conventions of shame and care for one’s reputation that could
act more strongly on an aristocrat even than military necessity or threat of force.
Chapter 2, “Moderatio, Modestia, and Temperantia,” examines “moderation” and
“temperance.” A principal argument is that the same values meant to restrain a
man against luxury and lust were also meant to restrain him in relations with
peers and in government, with no alteration in social operation. That point helps
to explain the ancient sources’ constant carping about the evils of “luxury.” The
first two chapters together conclude that this cluster of restraint values was gen-
erally agreed upon and followed, that Roman aristocrats competed in their prac-
tice, and that the values supported the republican system. Both of these chapters
primarily use the works of later ancient historians (filled out with contemporary
sources where available), for the simple reason that such writers provide the ful-
lest picture of how these restraint values were ideally to operate.
Chapter 3, “Setting Norms,” addresses the objection that restraint in the late
historians—​almost none of whom wrote during the Republic’s lifetime—​was
little more than literary license, retrojection, regurgitated Greek philosophy, or
pure nostalgia. The chapter serves three functions: first, to attempt (given the
paucity of contemporary evidence from early times) to place the restraint values
into Rome’s republican past by using exclusively sources and fragments contem-
porary with the action; second, to postulate the restraint norms’ provenance
and path until the last half of the second century BC; and third, to situate the
observations of the first two chapters into modern scholarly models of how the
Republic functioned.

19 Cf. Wallace-​Hadrill (1997) 11; Hölkeskamp (2006) 383, (2014b) 45.

Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
muddy. Mr. Elephant knew a place where the bananas grew ripe and
thick. And they spent a pleasant day. On the way home Mr. Frog
hopped up close to Mr. Elephant, and he said in his high, squeaky
voice:
“Grandfather, I have no strength to walk. Let me get up on your
back.”
“Climb up, my grandson,” said Mr. Elephant.
 And just then they came toward home.

He put his trunk down for a ladder, and Mr. Frog climbed up. They
had not gone very far when Mr. Frog hopped up close to Mr.
Elephant’s ear, and he said:
“I am going to fall, grandfather. Give me some small cords from
the roadside that I may bind your mouth, and hold myself upon your
back.”
“I will, grandson,” said Mr. Elephant.
So Mr. Elephant stripped some small cords from a birch tree by
the roadside, and handed them to Mr. Frog. Then Mr. Frog bound Mr.
Elephant’s mouth, and they went on a little farther. It was not long,
though, before Mr. Frog spoke again to Mr. Elephant.
“Grandfather,” he said, “find me a small, green twig that I may fan
the mosquitoes from your ears.”
“I will, grandson,” said Mr. Elephant, so he broke a small, green
twig from the birch tree, and reached it up to Mr. Frog; and just then
they came toward home.
“See Mr. Elephant,” cried Mr. Hare.
“See Mr. Elephant,” cried Mr. Tiger.
“See Mr. Elephant,” cried Mr. Lion and all the others, “Mr. Elephant
is Mr. Frog’s horse.”
Mr. Elephant turned himself about, and he saw Mr. Frog on his
back, holding the reins and the whip.
“Why, so I am, grandson,” said Mr. Elephant.
Then Mr. Frog jumped down to the ground, and he laughed and he
laughed until he nearly split his coat, because he had played a trick
on Mr. Elephant.
 HOW DRAKESTAIL
WENT TO THE
KING.

Once upon a time there was a wee little duck, with a very long tail,
so he was called Drakestail. Now, Drakestail had some money of his
very, very own, and the king asked if he might take it. So Drakestail
loaned all his money to the king.
But the king kept Drakestail’s money for a year and a day, and still
he did not send it back. Drakestail said he would go to the king and
bring back the money himself.
So off he started, one very fine morning, for the king’s house. The
sun was shining on the ponds, and Drakestail waddled along in the
middle of the road, feeling very fine. As he traveled, he met a fox,
and the fox said, “Where do you go this fine morning, Friend
Drakestail?”
“To the king,” said Drakestail, “for he owes me money.”
“I will travel along with you,” said the fox.
“Ah,” said Drakestail, “your four legs would soon tire. Come along
with me this way,” and he opened his wee little bill very wide, and
down his wee little throat went the fox.
Then Drakestail traveled on a little farther. As he went he came to
a ladder lying beside the road.
“Where do you go this fine morning, Friend Drakestail?” asked the
ladder.
“To the king,” said Drakestail, “for he owes me money.”
 “I will travel along with you,” said the ladder.
“Your wooden legs would soon tire,” said Drakestail. “Come along
with me this way,” and he opened his little bill very wide, and down
his wee little throat went the ladder.
Then Drakestail traveled on a bit farther until he came to his friend,
the river, lying and glistening in the sunshine.
“Where do you go this fine morning, Friend Drakestail?” asked the
river.
“To the king, for he owes me money,” said Drakestail.
“I will travel with you,” said the river.
“You would soon tire if you ran so far, my friend,” said Drakestail.
“Come along with me this way.” He opened his wee bill very wide,
and down his wee little throat went the little river.
Then Drakestail traveled and traveled until he came to the king’s
house. Now Drakestail thought that the king would meet him at the
gate, so he called out very loudly:
“Honk! Honk! Drakestail waits at the gate.”
But the king did not come out to meet him. Who should appear at
the gate but the king’s cook, and the cook took Drakestail by his two
little legs and flung him into the poultry yard. The other fowls, who
were ill-bred birds, ran up to Drakestail and bit him, and jeered at his
large tail. It would have gone very badly with Drakestail, but he
called to his friend, the fox:

“Reynard, Reynard, come out to the earth,

Or Drakestail’s life is of little worth.”

So the fox came out, and he ate up all the ill-bred fowls in the
king’s poultry yard. But still Drakestail was badly off. He heard the
king’s cook putting the broth pot over the fire.

“Ladder, ladder, come out to the wall,

 Drakestail does not wish to be broth at all,”

he cried. So the ladder came out and leaned against the wall, and
Drakestail climbed over in safety. But the king’s cook saw Drakestail
and set out after him. He caught poor Drakestail and clapped him
into the broth pot, and hung him over the fire.

“River, my sweetheart, put out this hot fire,

The flames that would cook me rise higher and higher,”

cried Drakestail. So the river put out the fire with a great noise and
sputtering, which the king heard. And the king came running to the
kitchen.
“Good morning to you, King,” said Drakestail, hopping out of the
broth pot, and making a very low bow, “are you through with my
money, which you have kept for a year and a day?”
“That I am, Drakestail,” said the king. “You shall have it at once.”
So the king gave Drakestail the money that he owed him, and
Drakestail waddled home again to tell of all his travels.
 THE GREEDY CAT.

Once upon a time there lived a cat and a mouse, and they thought
they would ask each other to dinner, turn and turn about. First it was
the cat’s turn to ask the mouse, and he set his table and invited her,
but he did not have much to eat; only a dry crust of bread and some
water. But the mouse, who was very polite, ate it and thanked the
cat.
When it was the mouse’s turn to give a dinner, she spread a fine
feast, platters of fish, and saucers of milk, and joints of meat. Then
she baked a large cake with sugar on the top for the cat, and for
herself she made a very tiny cake with no frosting.
The cat came to the mouse’s dinner, and he ate the fish and the
meat, and lapped the milk, and ate the cake. Then he looked around
in a greedy way, and he said:
“What a very light dinner. Have you nothing more in the house to
eat, mouse?”
“Here is my cake,” said the mouse, who was not at all greedy.
So the cat ate the mouse’s cake, and then he looked about again
in a greedy way, and he said:
“Have you anything more to eat, mouse?”
“Nothing, kind sir,” said the mouse, “unless you eat me.”
She thought the cat would never be so greedy as that, but he
opened his mouth wide, and down his throat went the mouse.
Then the greedy cat walked out of the mouse’s house and down
the road, swinging his tail, for he felt very fine.
 On his way he met an old woman. Now the old woman had been
peeping in at the window, and she had seen what that greedy cat
had done.
“You greedy cat,” she said, “to eat your friend, the mouse.”
“Greedy, indeed,” said the cat, “I have a mind to eat you.”
Then he opened his mouth very wide, and down his throat went
the old woman.
Then on down the road went the cat, swinging his tail, and feeling
finer than ever. As he went he met an old man taking his load of
apples to market. The old man was beating his donkey to make it go
faster.
“Scat, scat, pussy,” said the man, “my donkey will tread on you.”
“Tread on me, indeed,” said the cat, shaking his fat sides, “I have
eaten my friend the mouse, I have eaten an old woman. What is to
hinder my eating you?”
So the greedy cat opened his mouth very wide, and down his
throat went the man and his donkey.
Then he walked along in the middle of the road again. After a
while he spied a great cloud of dust, and he heard a great tramping
of feet. It was the king riding in his chariot, and behind him marched
all his soldiers and his elephants.
“Scat, scat, pussy,” said the king, “my elephants might step on
you.”
“Step on me, indeed,” said the cat, “I have eaten my friend the
mouse, I have eaten an old woman, I have eaten an old man and a
donkey. What is to hinder my eating a king and a few elephants?”
So the cat opened his mouth wide, and down his throat went the
king and the soldiers and all the elephants.
Then the cat started on again, but more slowly. He was really not
hungry any more. As he traveled he met two land crabs, scuttling
along in the dust.
 “Scat, scat, pussy,” squeaked the crabs.
“I have eaten my friend the mouse,” said the cat, “I have eaten an
old woman, and a man and a donkey, and a king and all his soldiers
and all his elephants. What is to hinder my eating you, too?”
Then the cat opened his mouth wide, and down his throat went the
two crabs.
But the crabs began to look about them there in the dark. There
were the soldiers trying to form in fours, but there was not room. The
elephants were stepping on each other’s toes. The old woman was
scolding, and in a corner sat the poor little mouse, her paws and
ears all drooping.
“We must go to work,” said the crabs.
Then they began snipping and snipping with their sharp little
claws. Soon there was a hole large enough, and they crept out.
Then out came the king and his soldiers and all his elephants. Out
came the old woman scolding her cat. Out came the man and his
donkey. Last of all, out came the little mouse with one little cake
under her arm, for one cake was all that she had wanted.
But the greedy cat had to spend all the rest of the day sewing up
the hole in his coat.
 THE THREE BILLY
GOATS GRUFF.

Once upon a time there were three Billy Goats, and one was a
very large Goat, and one was a middle-sized Goat, and one was a
tiny Goat, but the three had the very same name, which was Gruff.
One morning the three Billy Goats started away from home, for
they had decided to go far, far to a hillside where there was a
quantity of green grass, and they might eat of it and make
themselves fat.
Now, on the way to the hillside there ran a brook, and over the
brook was a bridge, and under the bridge lived a Troll with eyes as
large as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker. And this Troll was
fond of eating Billy Goats.
First of all came the youngest Billy Goat Gruff to cross over the
bridge. Trip trap, trip trap, his little feet pattered upon the boards.
“Who is that tripping over my bridge?” called up the Troll in a surly
voice.
“Oh, it’s only I, the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff, going over to the hillside
to make myself fat,” the Goat called back in a wee small voice.
“I am going to gobble you up, Billy Goat Gruff,” said the Troll.
“Oh, no, pray do not take me,” said the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff; “I
am too little, that I am. Wait until the second Billy Goat Gruff comes
along. He is ever so much bigger than I.”
“Well, be off with you,” said the Troll.
 Then came the middle-sized Billy Goat Gruff, to cross the bridge.
Trip trap, trip trap, his middle-sized feet pattered upon the boards.
“Who is that tripping over my bridge?” called up the Troll.
“Oh, it’s only I, the middle-sized Billy Goat Gruff, going over to the
hillside to make myself fat,” the Goat called back in a middle-sized
voice.
“I am coming to gobble you up, Billy Goat Gruff,” said the Troll.
“Oh, no, pray do not take me,” said the middle-sized Billy Goat
Gruff; “I am a little larger than the tiniest Billy Goat, but I am not large
enough to make a mouthful for you. Of that I am quite sure.”
“Well, be off with you,” said the Troll.
Then, last of all, came the great Billy Goat Gruff, to cross over the
bridge.
Trip trap, trip trap, his great feet tramped across the boards.
“Who is that tramping over my bridge?” called up the Troll.
“It is I, the great Billy Goat Gruff, going over to the hillside to make
myself fat,” the Goat called back in a great voice.
“I am coming to gobble you up, Billy Goat Gruff,” said the Troll.
“Come along,” said the great Billy Goat Gruff.
So the Troll, whose eyes were as large as saucers and his nose
as long as a poker, came hurrying up to the top of the bridge,—but,
ah, this is what happened to him.
 The Goat tossed the Troll so high with his horns.

There on the bridge stood the great Billy Goat Gruff with his feet
firmly planted on the boards and his head lowered, and as soon as
the Troll came near—rush, scamper—the Goat tossed the Troll so
high with his horns that no one has ever seen a Troll under a bridge
from that day to this.
Then the great Billy Goat Gruff went on to the hillside, and the
three Billy Goats ate, and ate, and made themselves so fat that they
could scarcely walk home again.
 THE HOBYAHS.

Once upon a time there lived a little old man and a little old woman
in a house all made of hemp stalks. And they had a little dog named
Turpie who always barked when any one came near the house.
One night when the little old man and the little old woman were
fast asleep, creep, creep, through the woods came the Hobyahs,
skipping along on the tips of their toes.
“Tear down the hemp stalks. Eat up the little old man, and carry
away the little old woman,” cried the Hobyahs.
Then little dog Turpie ran out, barking loudly, and he frightened the
Hobyahs so that they ran away home again. But the little old man
woke from his dreams, and he said:
“Little dog Turpie barks so loudly that I can neither slumber nor
sleep. In the morning I will take off his tail.”
So when it came morning, the little old man took off little dog
Turpie’s tail to cure him of barking.
The second night along came the Hobyahs, creep, creep through
the woods, skipping along on the tips of their toes, and they cried:
“Tear down the hemp stalks. Eat the little old man, and carry away
the little old woman.”
Then the little dog Turpie ran out again, barking so loudly that he
frightened the Hobyahs, and they ran away home again.
But the little old man tossed in his sleep, and he said:
“Little dog Turpie barks so loudly that I can neither slumber nor
sleep. In the morning I will take off his legs.”
 So when it came morning, the little old man took off Turpie’s legs
to cure him of barking.
The third night the Hobyahs came again, skipping along on the
tips of their toes, and they called out:
“Tear down the hemp stalks. Eat up the little old man, and carry
away the little old woman.”
Then little dog Turpie barked very loudly, and he frightened the
Hobyahs so that they ran away home again.
But the little old man heard Turpie, and he sat up in bed, and he
said:
“Little dog Turpie barks so loudly that I can neither slumber nor
sleep. In the morning I will take off his head.”
So when it came morning, the little old man took off Turpie’s head,
and then Turpie could not bark any more.
That night the Hobyahs came again, skip- ping along on the tips of
their toes, and they called out:
“Tear down the hemp stalks. Eat the little old man, and carry off
the little old woman.”
Now, since little dog Turpie could not bark any more, there was no
one to frighten the Hobyahs away. They tore down the hemp stalks,
they took the little old woman away in their bag, but the little old man
they could not get, for he hid himself under the bed.
Then the Hobyahs hung the bag which held the little old woman up
in their house, and they poked it with their fingers, and they cried:
“Look you! Look you!”
But when it came daylight, they went to sleep, for Hobyahs, you
know, sleep all day.
The little old man was very sorry when he found that the little old
woman was gone. He knew then what a good little dog Turpie had
been to guard the house at night, so he brought Turpie’s tail, and his
legs, and his head, and gave them back to him again.
 Then Turpie went sniffing and snuffing along to find the little old
woman, and soon came to the Hobyahs’ house. He heard the little
old woman crying in the bag, and he saw that the Hobyahs were all
fast asleep. So he went inside.
Then he cut open the bag with his sharp teeth, and the little old
woman hopped out and ran home; but Turpie got inside the bag to
hide.
When it came night, the Hobyahs woke up, and they went to the
bag, and they poked it with their long fingers, crying:
“Look you! Look you!”
But out of the bag jumped little dog Turpie, and he ate every one
of the Hobyahs. And that is why there are not any Hobyahs now.
 THE KID WHO
WOULD NOT GO.

Once upon a time I was walking across London Bridge, and I

found a penny. So I bought a little kid. But the kid would not go. And I
saw by the moonlight it was long past midnight. It was time kid and I
were home an hour and a half ago.
Then I met a staff, and to the staff I said:
“Staff, staff, drive kid. I see by the moonlight it is long past
midnight. It is time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
But the staff would not drive kid.
Then I met a hatchet, and to the hatchet I said:
“Hatchet, chop staff, staff will not drive kid. I see by the moonlight it
is long past midnight. It is time kid and I were home an hour and a
half ago.”
But the hatchet would not chop staff.
Then I met a torch, and to the torch I said:
“Torch, burn hatchet, hatchet will not chop staff, staff will not drive
kid. I see by the moonlight it is long past midnight. It is time kid and I
were home an hour and a half ago.”
But the torch would not burn the hatchet.
Then I met the wind, and to the wind I said:
“Wind, put out torch, torch will not burn hatchet, hatchet will not
chop staff, staff will not drive kid. I see by the moonlight it is long past
midnight. It is time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
 But the wind would not put out the fire.
Then I met a tree, and to the tree I said:
“Tree, stop wind, wind will not put out torch, torch will not burn
staff, staff will not drive kid. I see by the moonlight it is long past
midnight. It is time kid and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
But the tree would not.
Then I met a wee mouse, and to the mouse I said:
“Mouse, gnaw tree, tree will not stop wind, wind will not put out
torch, torch will not burn staff, staff will not drive kid. I see by the
moonlight it is long past midnight. It is time kid and I were home an
hour and a half ago.”
Then the wee, wee mouse began to gnaw the tree, the tree began
to stop the wind, the wind began to put out the torch, the torch began
to burn the staff, the staff began to drive the kid, and the kid began to
go.
See by the moonlight it is almost midnight. But kid and I were
home an hour and a half ago.
 THE ROBIN’S
CHRISTMAS SONG.

Once upon a time there was an old gray Pussy and she was down
by the waterside when the trees and ground were white with snow.
And there she saw a wee, wee Robin Redbreast hopping upon a
branch, so Pussy said to him:
“Where are you going, Robin Redbreast, this frosty Yuletide
weather?”
Then the wee, wee Robin said to the Pussy, “I am going to the
King to sing him a song this good Yule morning.”
And the gray Pussy replied, “Go not yet. Come here, Robin
Redbreast, and I will let you see the bonny white necklace I wear
around my neck.”
But the wee, wee Robin said, “No, no, gray Pussy. You may show
the bonny white necklace that you wear around your neck to the little
mice, but not to me.”