Hail Caesar! - Rome's First Emperor

When Julius Caesar was stabbed to death during the famous Ides of March assassination in 44 BCE, he left a power vacuum big enough to suck Rome into yet another Civil War. After some initial sieges and skirmishes, which resulted in the deaths of the two sitting Consuls, this vacuum ended up being filled by three unlikely allies who were appointed to a kind of co-dictatorship in October, 43 BCE in hopes that they would check and balance each other over the course of their five-year term. What ensued should be no surprise to anyone who's been paying attention to the politics of the day: a temporary and uncomfortable alliance followed by massive Civil War.

Gaius Octavius Thurinus was Julius Caesar's grand-nephew, and renamed himself Gaius Julius Caesar after his great uncle adopted him, and I assume to confuse the later students of history. In any case, Octavius, as we shall call him, proved a worthy adversary for the other members of the Second Triumvirate, leading armies to victory against both the rebel armies of Caesar's assassins and Marcus Antonius.

Like many ancient people, the Romans would occasionally deify their dead leaders, and Caesar, though he was objectively ruthless, self-seeking, and a dangerous consolidator of power, was declared by the Senate to be a patron god of Rome on January 1, 42 BCE. Octavius, capitalizing on Caesar's honor, began referring to himself as the 'son of god' and no doubt won over several followers from Rome's middle and working class through his relationship with their late champion.

After Marcus Antonius was defeated at the Battle of Actium, Octavius was in a position to increase his influence and forever alter the Roman Republic. His power as Consul increased gradually, and he was smart enough to periodically return control to the Senate, as he did in 27 BCE. However, this Oligarchical body was made up of mostly sycophants and Caesarians, since the civil wars purged most of the old Republican guard. Plus, the soldiers in the provinces, over which Octavius had been named governor, were loyal to him personally and cared nothing for an ineffectual Senate that could not deliver on land reform or veteran benefits.

In January of 27 BCE, the Roman Senate bestowed the title of Augustus upon Octavius, a name which he would carry long after his death. The word Augustus comes from the same root word as Augur, a diviner who observed the flight of birds. The title was much more than a simple political office: it meant 'illustrious one,' and carried implications that Augustus Caesar not only held power over the politics of Rome, but over nature itself.

It is from these roots that all future Emperors of Rome would reign. And though Augustus Caesar's example was full of concessions and the avoidance of appearing supreme, his descendants would of course focus on his title, which implied that the Emperor was not merely a man, but a god.

Pax vobiscum

The Ultimate Sacrifice

This story from the Greek oral tradition stands out as one of the most heinous crimes of the Trojan War. King Agamemnon made a foolish boast against Artemis after shooting a stag through the heart with a single arrow. She cursed his upcoming expedition against Troy unless he made a sacrifice: his eldest daughter Iphegenia. He obliged, and the war was ultimately successful, but the cruel king himself was murdered when he returned home by avenging family members. There is a similar story in the Bible's Old Testament centering around Jephtha, a Charismatic Judge who swore to sacrifice the first creature that approached him when he returned home if God would grant him a victory over the Philistines. The first creature was his daughter, whom he sacrificed to Yahweh, an event that stands completely alone in Judeo-Christian scriptures. The Greeks, Hebrews, and Romans had come to feel that human sacrifice was wrong by the 500's BCE or before, and kept it out of their worship, exiling it to their oral traditions as cautionary tales rather than promotional stories.

All this is to say that the Phoenicians were not alone in sacrificing people to their gods, but they were getting lonelier when they extended that practice into the early 100's CE. Carthage was the most powerful of the old Phoenician colonies, and by the 300's BCE its power was slowly being crushed under the weight of political corruption and a vacuum in leadership. Having almost no native military power because of their tendency to hire foreign mercenaries to do their fighting, they could only appeal to their gods when Scipio Africanus was at their gates.

The Phoenician deities were of a much older variety than the Greco-Roman gods, being much more like the savage Titans than the diplomatic Olympians. Ba'al was their chief deity, and his very name is derived from the Semitic word El, which means god, and is used in Hebrew words like El Shaddai or Elohim, referring to Yahweh and his angels. His partner goddess was Tanit, whose symbol included a crescent moon and star not unlike the modern Islamic symbol. The Romans identified Ba'al as Saturn, the father of Jupiter who had been usurped by the Olympians years ago, and it seems likely that they factored this into their ideas of superiority to the Carthaginians.

To me, the evidence of child sacrifice in Carthage is very clear. There are mass graves filled with children whose bones have been charred by sacrificial fire. Those who try and make the case that the children had already died of some disease or natural cause before being cremated are ignoring the fact that no evidence of any disease has been found among the remaining bones. I know very well the desire to demonize the Romans and try to rewrite history based on how we would have liked it, but the facts are the facts, and I see no benefit to these attempts at making the Carthaginians into something they are not.

In the cult of Ba'al, children were sacrificed to gain special favor from the gods. The idea was that only blood could show your true devotion to the gods' fame, and what better way to show your true devotion than giving your own child? The Romans and Greeks certainly were no strangers to the idea of blood sacrifice, often killing bulls, birds, and other animals in acts of worship and for divination, but human sacrifice of any kind had long since been outlawed by the Punic Wars.

That is not to say that the Carthaginians always sacrificed their own children. There are accounts (from 800 BCE) of aristocrats buying slave children to sacrifice in place of their own, but in times of famine, war, and hardship the priests would encourage parents to give their youngest child to the fires of Ba'al. Ba'al was associated with the sun, and by extension, fire, which is why the children were killed with a ceremonial knife before being thrown into the blaze.

One bit of evidence that often escapes Carthaginian apologists is the account of young Hannibal joining his father for a campaign in Iberia. It is written that he begged his father repeatedly to join him, and that his father, bitter from the recent defeats in the First Punic War, agreed to take Hannibal only if he would swear an oath against friendship with Rome. Hannibal responded by placing his arm over a nearby open firepit and swearing that he would use fire and steel to arrest the destiny of Rome. While this story is probably mostly fiction, it displays a practice that seems logical for a people who worship a god of fire. What better way to swear an oath by such a god than by allowing the fire to singe you just a little bit to prove your devotion?

No matter how antiquated or barbaric it seems to us, sacrificing animals to appease gods can certainly be said to contribute to the later spread of Christianity, which presented Christ, the sinless man who served as a blood sacrifice for all who believe.

Pax vobiscum

A Kinder, Gentler Paganism

One of my favorite video games, as many of you have probably guessed, is the Rome: Total War series. In the expansion Barbarian Invasion, the game begins with the announcement that Paganism is the most popular religion in the known world. This always gives me a good chuckle because it is similar to saying that Soccer is the most popular sport in the world. While it is technically true, it doesn't mean that fans of rival teams are united in their love for soccer and agree on everything. The term Paganism is a bit misleading because there were so many different deities and forms of worship that to group the Roman practice of sacrificing bulls to Jupiter or Mars with the Germanic practice of sacrificing people by drowning them in a bog seems a little bit uneven. Thus, even the label Pagan itself becomes somewhat fluid, under the proper microscope.

The Gauls were a constant thorn in Rome's side, always pillaging and competing with the northern Italians for food, water, trade, and money. The Romans never really forgave them for sacking their fair city around 390 BCE after the crushing defeat of their Phalanx at the Battle of the Allia, and many young politicians would cut their teeth by campaigning against the savage barbarians to the north. When they finally conquered most of the Gaul territory, as seen in the image below, they syncretized their religion to match up with the Greco-Roman Pantheon.

Yellow=starting point

Light Green=furthest expansion

Dark Green=areas where languages

descended from Gallic are still spoken

Because we have few written records of the Gallic religion before the Roman conquest in the 50's BCE, it is difficult to assess their exact rituals and procedures. We know they engaged in human sacrifice, and Julius Caesar himself would have us believe that a funeral for a Gallic noble involved his family and slaves being burned with their deceased patriarch inside a large wooden man. However, the Romans are fond of exaggeration, and since they were hostile to the Gauls, we can't completely trust their historians to shoot straight.

We do know that there were some gods who were 'national' in the sense that Gauls from Spain to the Balkans would worship them. These included Toutatis, Esus, and Taranis, who were transformed into Mercury, Mars, and Jupiter after the Roman conquest. However, they also had regional deities and familial patron gods to choose from as well. At its core, this religion was animism, but it evolved over time to include anthropomorphic gods as well, largely thanks to Roman influence.

Taranis Jupiter, holding a Gallic chariot wheel in one hand

and a lighting bolt in the other - syncretastic!

After Rome conquered, the Gauls submitted and ceased their human sacrifices. Druids, the mysterious oracles of the Gallic religion, fled to Germania and Northern Britannia to continue their strange and unrecorded practices. The conquest of the Gauls and the destruction of their religion marked the end of the old days of Western European nomads and the beginning of a more urban, administrative era. At least, until the Eastern tribes migrated toward the Atlantic, bringing with them a similar form of Pagan animism and mysterious ceremonies.

Pax vobiscum

Theology Thursday: The Cult of Artemis

Looking at the statue of the Ephesian Artemis reminds me of when I lived in Japan, as the slender statue looks more like a Shinto deity than a Greek goddess. In fact, if you were to compare the idols of the Greek gods with the statue of Artemis which came from Ephesus, you'd probably think you were looking at completely different religious icons. And, in a way, you'd be right.

Artemis is unique among the Greek deities because she never married or had 'relations' with the other gods. She preferred the hunt to a dinner party, and the human lovers who were lucky enough to win her affection always met with tragic death, sometimes at her hand. She was the goddess of the moon, but the forest and childbirth were also within her realm of protection. Hunters would often lay the skins and horns of their prey upon a tree branch before leaving the woods as an offering so that Artemis wouldn't hunt them down for killing the animals before she had the chance. Women would cry out to her during childbirth in hope of relief from their pain either by the child emerging or receiving a quick death. The Greeks of Peloponnessus, that's the European side of ancient Greece, far preferred Zeus or Ares as their important deities, but for the Ephesians, none other than Artemis would do.

The Artemis image from Ephesus sticks out like a sore thumb in the Pantheon of Greek gods, and that is because that image predates Greek settlement in Asia Minor. It seems that before the Greek colonists came, the Ionian natives had built a matriarchal culture around a fertility goddess whose name has been erased by the fog of time. When the Greeks came and conquered the place, they adopted the image and claimed that it was Artemis, since the Greeks were fond of syncretism (that means incorporating local deities into your religion – word of the day!).

The Greek culture was extremely patriarchal, especially in Athens. Though it is true that Spartan women could own land and personal property (something Athenian women had no right to), this was done mostly out of necessity since the Spartans practiced open marriage. Thus it became necessary for the Greek priests to first break down the matriarchal local religion before they could alter the culture as well. Since the ancient worldview was typically that reality reflected the divine realm, those Ionians who were conquered must have figured that their religion was backwards, and so gave in to the priests and renamed their statue.

Her unique appearance, combined with the need for ancient people to have a lot of children to hedge their bet, made her a popular deity, and her temple in Ephesus was three times larger than the Parthenon temple that the Athenians built for their patron god Athena. In fact, the Ephesian Temple of Artemis was one of the seven wonders of the Ancient world, making Ephesus a huge tourist attraction for people from every corner of the Mediterranean and Black Sea. Ephesus being a coastal town, its economy was dependent on trade and tourism, so much so that there was once a riot against Christian missionaries organized by idol craftsmen who feared the sag in their income that a more popular god would bring! You can read more about this uprising in Acts chapter 19, which is a very informative account of the fame of the Ephesian Artemis.

The cult surrounding Artemis, ironically, centered around her virginity. Priests who served this moon goddess would willingly castrate themselves while men who went off to war would swear vows of chastity before the idols and likely keep a pocket-sized version with them as a reminder. While encamped in rugged hills on campaign, I imagine many a veteran Hoplite telling a tale around a cookfire all about a foolish young soldier who broke his vow to Artemis and brought his entire army to ruin. There were many such tales, since the Greeks were so fond of Fables.

Though Artemis was widely beloved, she eventually fell to the cross, as did all her Olympian brethren. Over time, the Roman Empire became more and more Christian through either proselytizing or by political manipulation, and the old gods were cast aside like yesterday's newspaper. Artemis would hunt no more.

Pax vobiscum

Culture Wednesday: More Than a Theorem

Anyone who's learned even the most rudimentary geometry has heard his name. Yes, in his own way, Pythagoras achieved the Greek ideal of fame that causes him to live forever, even if he is relegated to the pages of High School textbooks. But there is more to this mathematician than a simple ratio. Among other things, he believed himself to be the reincarnation of a Trojan hero, and refused to eat beans. His mathematekoi brotherhood was thought to be the most well-learned in the ancient world, but they did not hesitate to murder one man who would expose their most embarrassing secret: irrational numbers.

Though he seems harmless in his textbook depictions, Pythagoras was considered by many in the ancient world to be a dangerous cult leader, and a malcontent. He lived during that necessary twilight between oral tradition and written history, and thus his life and work is shrouded in an unfortunate cloud of mystery and myth. It is said that he traveled all throughout the world to gain knowledge of mathematics, science, medicine, astronomy, astrology, and mysticism from whomever would teach him. I think it likely that he traveled to Egypt, home of the famous ancient mathematician Thales, who accurately calculated the height of a pyramid by measuring its shadow. The Greek philosophy of math and science was that it was attainable, that they could actually observe and learn from what they saw to predict or manipulate future behavior. However, it was also steeped in Pagan mysticism, something which taints their learning somewhat and caused many, especially Pythagoras, to go off the rails.

Eccentric though he was, even by ancient weirdo standards, he built a school around this central tenet: All is number. He believed that numbers could be used not only to define all things, but could even give them greater meaning. His disciples took this motto to heart, and immediately began measuring angles and lengths to find the hidden constant ratios between them. In fact, most of the really boring parts of Geometry today (constructions, proofs) were what the Pythagoreans discovered when they were just playing around. They would challenge each other with number riddles like, “can you form a right triangle if given two points?”

One story claims that Pythagoras discovered the mathematical value of music. He was passing by a smithy one day, and the ringing of the anvils was sticking in his head. He noticed the relationship between their individual pitches, and examined three of them to discover that the middle one was one-third bigger than the smallest, and that the largest was one third bigger than the middle. Through experiments that the school performed on strings, bells, and other instruments, they created the octave as a means of dividing the musical notes, something we still do in Western music today.

As clever as these stories make him out to be, my belief is that Pythagoras was just the charismatic leader of some very bright young Greeks. I believe his school as a group made much of the discoveries that he is given credit for, just like professors will occasionally take credit for their students' findings today. In either case, he should at least be honored for cultivating an environment in which learning and discovery could take place.

However, this was long before the days of public education, and knowledge of every sort was a tightly guarded secret, particularly mathematics. As we will see in coming weeks, mathematics can kill people, and it often does so in great quantities with a minimal effort. For the Pythagoreans, the biggest secrets that they kept were the ones that they hated and couldn't explain.

Pythagoras and his followers were so convinced that everything could be expressed as a ratio of whole numbers that when they discovered ratios that didn't work out to nice, neat, clean whole numbers they were thrown into a crisis of faith. You see, this wasn't “just math” to them; this was their religion. Everything they held to be true, yes, the very order of the universe was at stake, and if it was just all random, irrational events, then knowledge itself was a fools game, a mirage in the desert of unpredictability.

Try this to see what I mean: draw yourself a square. Go ahead, draw one. Now, assign each side the number 1. Doesn't matter how big you've made it, just pretend you've created your own unit of measurement, name it after yourself if you like. Now that you have your square, draw a diagonal line from one corner to the other. Great. Now, using the Pythagorean Theorem, a^2 + b^2 = c^2, calculate the length of that diagonal. You should get 1^2 + 1^2 = c^2, and c^2 is equal to 2. So how long is that diagonal? The number √2, if you bother to plug it in, should make your calculator go crazy with an endless stream of numbers. However, it's a decimal answer, and therefore not a whole number. The Pythagoreans probably convinced themselves that there must be some sort of mistake in all of this, but their equations would continue to come out irrational, that is, being unable to express in a ratio of whole numbers. And since the square was one of their 'sacred shapes,' there's no doubt that they wanted to keep this a secret until they could find a way to make it work.

Well, enter Hippasus, a Pythagorean disciple who couldn't keep this cat inside its loosely constructed bag. He blew the whistle to the general public and alerted everyone in the Mediterranean that Pythagoras and his school were just a bunch of frauds. Little is truly known about this character as well, though some believe he created a rival school of mathematics. In either case, it is believed that he was murdered by Pythagorean zealots while trying to leave town. Yes, that's right, he was murdered for mathematics.

Pythagoras himself was killed during a political uprising in Croton in which he found himself on the wrong side. Supposedly, he ran from his assassins and was gaining ground until he came to a field of beans. He stopped and declared that he would not cross a field of beans, at which point I like to imagine his attackers stopping for a second to tilt their heads in unison before promptly dispatching this mathematical primadonna.

Pax vobiscum

Theology Thursday: The Paradigm of Pettiness

In my younger days (and, let's face it, even now), I couldn't get enough of Myth. I consumed volumes of the stuff, usually the ancient Greek and the Norse, because the idea of many gods was totally different from what I believed, and therefore, intriguing. What especially struck me was their behavior and character, and how different they were in that regard from the God I read about in the Bible.

The Greek gods developed from an oral tradition that quite possibly predates urban Greek civilization. Their stories are almost always told as an answer to a question. For example, the tale of Arachne most likely began when a small child asked their parent where spiders came from. There is a common thread running through most fables of the gods, a universal philosophy: do not cross the gods.

Unlike the Hebrews, whose one God commanded strict obedience to a moral code and religious practice, the Greek gods simply commanded humanity not to get too full of itself. They saw us as a nuisance at best, and rivals at worst. Prometheus, a demi-god who served those uppity Olympians, had the audacity to bring us fire. Zeus was pretty upset by this, since he didn't want humanity becoming powerful enough to overthrow him the way that he, along with his siblings and allies, had overthrown the titans before them. For his trouble, Prometheus was chained to a cliffside where every day birds would come and eat his insides. Every night they would grow back and the circle of pain would continue. It was Heracles who finally saved him on one of his many quests.

Yes, jealousy is an ugly emotion, and the gods were filled with it. The idea of an immortal deity being envious of mankind seems silly to us today, even those of us who still believe that there is a God. Yet the Greeks believed in gods that displayed all the worst human emotions and had super-powers to boot. Hera, Zeus' wife, would frequently vent her frustrations by tormenting some of her philandering husband's illegitimate children (and there were many!). Why, we might ask, didn't she punish her husband directly? Well, Hera's one attempt to go against the king of the gods ended very badly.

Believing that Zeus was wielding too much power for one god, Hera, Poseidon, and Apollo decided to stage a coup, waiting until their king was asleep on his couch and then binding him with one hundred leather ties so that he could not move at all. When Zeus awoke, he was furious and threatened to destroy the betrayers, who openly mocked him, laughing at his feeble attempts to reach the lightning bolts which they had made sure were well out of range. However, the problem with coups is that eventually you have to decide who's in charge. So the three ring-leaders got all the other gods involved and each one began lobbying for leadership in a debate that gradually threatened to erupt into an Olympian civil war.

While they wasted time with talk of succession, Thetis, a long-time friend of Zeus since the days of his rebellion against Chronos, dispatched her giant, named Aegaeon, who possessed one hundred hands. He untied Zeus while the others were distracted, and Zeus quickly grabbed his lightning bolts and brought the situation under control.

For their part in the conspiracy, Apollo and Poseidon were ordered to serve the King of Troy for a time. Taking advantage of this new immortal work force, King Laomedon had them build walls for his city, which were said to be impregnable. If The Illiad is right, it worked, and the Achaeans had to take the city by the trick of the Trojan horse rather than scale those massive walls. Hera received a far worse punishment for her role in the scheme. She was shackled to the sky by her wrists and anvils were hung from her ankles. She continually screamed in anguish night and day until Zeus freed her after securing oaths of permanent fealty from his fellow gods, who cringed at the horrific sound of Hera's pain.

It is interesting that what gave Zeus success in his original ascension is also what prevented this challenge to his power and authority. Unlike the titans before him, who were looked upon by the Greeks as being primitive, Zeus was able to forge alliances and coalitions. He could never have taken the titans down by himself, but with the help of many powerful demi-gods he was able to free his siblings from Chronos' belly, and bring them all to victory. No doubt the Greeks associated the titans with their Mycenaean ancestors, but Zeus and his band were modern gods for a more civilized era, whereby men would be killed in much more civilized ways, no doubt.

It is because of their gods' pettiness that most Greeks simply looked upon them as potential hazards rather than helpers in their time of need. In fact, if a god did help you in your time of need, they probably needed a favor. This is why the Pagan Greeks never wrangled, as modern Christian Theologians do, with the question of suffering. While Christians revere Jehovah as a God who is good and has good intentions, the Greeks held no such opinion of their deities. This meant that while they would sacrifice to them and try to get their attention with great displays of worship, it was either quid pro quo or mollification. That is, if you'd already fought and won your battle, or finished building your house, you would give a dedication to the gods so that they would see your humility and refrain from screwing up your life to remind you that you were still mortal, and therefore not as cool as they are.

The criteria for a successful Greek life was the attainment of fame, whereby you would live forever because people would tell stories about you. The only figures lucky enough to have that honor were, at first, the gods. However, tales of Ulysses, Achilles, Ajax, and the other Greek heroes were passed down through oral tradition and used as models for young Greek boys to follow. And in a world where the gods don't care about you, some claim to fame is your only real hope of eternal life.

Pax vobiscum