In Antioch, governors represented Roman power. Their arrival was celebrated with solemn ceremonies in which all the population participated, and Libanius, as the official sophist of the city, delivered a panegyric. The multitude of letters he sent to various governors through the years to solicit favors for himself or for others testifies to the influence of these officials. At the same time, the effective power of these representatives of the emperor was curtailed (Cabouret 2002, 2004). They were present at the meetings of the city council, but their authority was limited, since the local potentates acted on their own initiative and made decisions. Likewise, as administrators of justice, they lived among the wealthiest and most influential citizens, though the mass of the population could have recourse to them in the face of abuses at the hands of the more powerful. Libanius’ speeches and correspondence allow us to glimpse many facets of the governors’ authority (their impotence included) and show what their power was, both in theory and in practice. Rhetoric enabled its practitioner to criticize and oppose the actions of ‘‘bad’’ governors. In AD 361, while urging the Antiochenes to remunerate his assistants fairly, Libanius pointed to this aspect of rhetoric, through which citizens were able to keep their city prosperous and independent. Eloquence had the ability ‘‘to overcome the irrational tendencies of governors through rational argument’’ (Or. 31. 7). In ad 374, Libanius referred to this combative side of eloquence at the very beginning of his Autobiography ( Or. 1. 2). ‘‘My family,’’ he says, ‘‘was one of the greatest in a great city, in education, wealth, provision of shows and games, and in that type of eloquence that confronts the excesses of governors.’’ Throughout his work, he provided ample proof that he could exploit the adversarial potential of oratory.
Libanius’ relations with governors were very uneven. He did not introduce himself to them but waited to be personally invited, and only then did he ‘‘honor’’ them with a visit. He defended himself from accusations of soliciting them incessantly, saying that he exercised the moral influence that derived from his cultural position in the city. His Autobiography shows to the full his ups and downs with governors, especially in its second part. Their mutual rapport was based on an appreciation of his rhetoric. He dismissed or considered plainly hostile the officials who did not attend his speeches, were literate only in Latin (like Festus in Or. 1. 156), or did not follow the advice he persisted in offering. ‘‘Bad’’ governors had a passion for the theater and the hippodrome and shunned the courts. They either refused to administer justice or had an amateurish approach to it and wasted time (Or. 33. 8-10). They also had people flogged and intervened in business that regarded only the city, filling the prisons. In sum, Libanius declared to the emperor Theodosius, ‘‘governors sent out to the provinces are murderers’’ (Or. 45. 3, written in ad 386). But there were also ‘‘good’’ governors, and Libanius lets us know several of them. It is easy to identify what these portraits have in common. The officials he approved of were those who appreciated his cultural appeal. One of them, for example, Strategius, who was called Musonianus for his love of the arts of the Muses (PLRE i: 611-12), was versed both in Greek and Latin and was instrumental in convincing the emperor to give the sophist gifts that increased his prestige and income. In ad 353, when governor of Achaea, Strategius made the professors of the University of Athens invite Libanius to teach there, an honor Libanius much appreciated but refused. A good education had to be the chief quality of a governor, since the manner in which an official governed was a direct reflection of his upbringing.
Libanius presented as an ignoramus any official he found ineffectual and untrustworthy. When he launched bitter, personal tirades against the incompetence and brutality of governors, he attacked their education first. Thus the bad outcome of Tisamenus’ administration could have been predicted from the start ( PLRE i: 916-17; Or. 33). This governor was of good lineage, and his grandfather had been a rhetor; but Tisamenus ‘‘participated in eloquence perforce and superficially, happily said goodbye to rhetoric and teachers, and turned to dancers.’’ Likewise, in promoting the admission of his secretary Thalassius to the Senate of Constantinople, Libanius attributed the opposition of some senators to their lack of paideia { Or. 42. 11-13, 40). Thalassius was of lowly origin and was denigrated as a ‘‘sword maker’’ because {like Demosthenes!) he owned a sword factory. Libanius painted a flattering portrait of his character, culminating in Thalassius’ devotion to studies and knowledge of philosophy. This oration contains ‘‘some of his choicest invective in character assassination’’ {Norman 2000: 147). We are told, on the one hand, that Optatus {who later became governor) manifested from the outset a pernicious disposition: he tried to avoid learning his letters by running away and hiding in a farmyard, and when brought back shunned education altogether. No wonder, therefore, that he turned to magic and tried to kill his brother and parents! Proclus, on the other hand, who came from a noble and cultivated family, appears in this oration as devoted to a life of pleasure and drunkenness. Libanius alleged that he was not proficient either in Greek or in Latin and did not know either rhetoric or Roman law.
If Libanius’ relations with a certain governor turned sour over the years, he could not deny the education for which he had formerly praised him but could minimize and ridicule his attainments. Thus, for example, when Icarius {PLRE i: 455-6) succeeded Proclus as comes orientisin ad 384, Libanius was flattered by his admiration for his work: Icarius became ‘‘almost a son’’ to him. He presented the governor as a cultivated person who not only had the ability to compose orations and tried to improve the standing of orators, but also had received his office from the Muses as a recompense for his poetry {Or. 1. 255). After a honeymoon period, however, when Icarius supposedly became guilty of brutality and injustice, the sophist naturally ridiculed the poetry the latter composed to celebrate the emperor’s deeds, and denounced its simplistic and excessively dramatic quality {Or. 28. 2).
When we try to look {through Libanius’ lens) at the value late antique society placed on education in rhetoric, the picture seems quite uniform. In Or. 62. 46-8, for example, he presented with some disgust the success story of one Heliodorus {PLRE i: 411), a humble hawker of fish-pickle who became familiar with the law by paying attention to law suits and frequenting the courts, and who eventually began practicing oratory. Fame and wealth followed, especially when he delivered ‘‘the speeches that a man of his kind must make’’ at the palace, and he gained vast estates. This story, for which Libanius is the only witness and which he may have heard when he was a student in Athens, is remarkable. It was highly unusual for a complete ignoramus to achieve this kind of success. And why was Heliodorus able to become a governor in the end? ‘‘People held that he had been through the mill of oratory,’’ said Libanius, referring to a common assumption that an education in rhetoric opened the door to power. Another example of eloquence providing a passport to office comes from the same speech {Or. 62. 63-9). The chief critic of Libanius’ educational system was a supposedly ignorant governor who later achieved the rank of honoratus. He used his wealth to oppress families through usury with a complete lack of scruple and compassion, and was ‘‘more savage than the Cyclops, tearing the flesh from the starving.’’
If people objected that this fellow must have had an education because he delivered speeches, Libanius retorted that he bought them. Buying a speech on the market was reproachable, although sometimes excusable in a student; but entering the imperial service with the aid of speeches composed by others was dishonorable. Again, it is clear what prestige rhetoric carried, at least in Libanius’ eyes.
Let us now look at another type of evidence, in the hope of gaining some perspective. The great epigrapher Louis Robert published a series of verse epigrams on stone that celebrated the attainments of governors (Robert 1948). Most of these Greek inscriptions can be dated from the end of the third to the fifth centuries, and were engraved on buildings, fountains, and statues. They can be distinguished from similar inscriptions belonging to the early Roman period mainly because they, unlike their predecessors, are in verse. The honorific character of these epigrams does not allow for disparaging comments of the sort that appear in Libanius’ writings, but a comparison of the literary and epigraphic commendations reveals some surprises. The main themes of the epigrams are the justice and building programs of the governors. The theme of justice is almost omnipresent and appears in references to the officials’ activities in the law courts and in the administration. Gregory of Nazianzus identified comparable traits when, in a letter to Olympius (Olympius 10, PLRE i: 646), he identified the main virtues of a governor. While he praised intelligence and courage, he pointed to integrity (‘‘clean hands’’) and to the shunning of ‘‘unjust gold’’ as the sine qua non of good government (Ep. 140). The regular occurrence of the theme of justice in the inscriptions corresponds to an ideal and offers no testimony that respect for the law and personal integrity were customary marks of office. As Robert remarked, the celebration of these virtues is the counterpart of the complaints and accusations of the literary and legislative sources about the corruption of the courts and the misdeeds of governors. A second frequent theme in the metrical inscriptions is praise for the building activities of governors. Cities were grateful for the construction of walls, fountains, aqueducts, and baths that enhanced their beauty and improved their amenities, and the inscriptions underline the wondrous quality (thauma) and beauty of these ventures. Natural catastrophes such as earthquakes and tidal waves sometimes made the rebuilding and restoration imperative.
It is sometimes said that these inscriptions ‘‘combine justice with devotion to the Muses’’ (Brown 1992: 35), but one should notice that they almost never allude directly to the governors’ paideia. The fact that sophists twice dedicated statues to magistrates and composed those epigrams is undoubtedly an indication of the latter’s activities on behalf of education. These sophists celebrated a specific official’s effort on behalf of rhetoric but did not point merely to the excellence of his education. The other metrical inscriptions testify to the predilection for poetry that was prevalent in Late Antiquity. The composers of these epigrams were probably not professional poets but individuals with a taste and an ability for poetry that were not uncommon. Alan Cameron (2004: 346) has pointed to the fact that writing classicizing hexameters and elegiacs was an easier task than composing prose in the style of Demosthenes and was a relatively popular activity. The governors must have appreciated these versified gifts through which they could be associated (at least indirectly) with the Muses. These epigrams, however, do not disclose that an accomplished rhetorical education was a prerequisite for office.
Let us turn once again to the evidence provided by the encomiastic orations of sophists, in order to compare their content with that of the inscriptions. The laudation of the respect of governors for justice is a permanent feature in these compositions, together with the celebration of their paideia. Like Libanius, Himerius extolled the justice of magistrates as an adjunct of their alliance with the Muses. He hailed the proconsul of Achaea, Cervonius, as ‘‘the eye of Justice and Law, the prophet of the Muses and Hermes’’ (Or. 38. 9). Justice and the Muses permeate the whole of Oration 48 in honor of Hermogenes, who was proconsul of Achaea after ad 337 and had devoted years to philosophy (PLRE i: 424-5). Himerius invited this ‘‘shoot and offspring of the Muses’’ not to neglect the Attic lecture rooms. A god had brought him to Greece so that eloquence could regain its youth. Hermogenes cultivated justice with persistence and often spent the whole day from morning to evening in the ‘‘temple of Dike.’’ The association of observance of the laws with cultivation of the Muses was irresistible.
The theme of the ideal governor’s respect for justice is also a persistent motif in the works of Libanius. He recognized that governors should be allowed some authority, but contended that right alone should be the basis ofit (Or. 50. 19). In Oration 62, when defending himself from the criticism that so few of his students attained office, he cited a few examples of success. Since it was unnecessary to insist on their culture, because their studies with him were the proof of it, Libanius focused on their incorruptibility and disregard for wealth. The passage on Andronicus, a beloved student who became involved with the revolt of Procopius in ad 365 and was executed by the Emperor Valens (PLRE i: 64-5), is a sorrowful encomium of his ability to purge the courts of abuses and of his administrative integrity and refusal of bribes. Andronicus’ property was confiscated at his death, but the paucity of his possessions elicited the admiration of his opponents.
In a letter written to Andronicus when he was governor of Phoenicia (Ep. 216), Libanius praised the love and hard work he dedicated to Beirut, which he had embellished with buildings. In contrast to the composers of the epigrammatic inscriptions, Libanius was ambivalent with regard to the building activities of magistrates. In the letter mentioned at the beginning of this chapter (Ep. 1261), he also extolled this aspect of administration. He praised Proclus for his ‘‘constructions in the city, streets, colonnades, baths, and squares’’ (Ep. 852); and, in the oration written for Antioch, he admired the constant projects of her governors in making memorable additions to the city (Or. 11. 193). Yet, he generally felt that officials showed exaggerated love for the city through these expenditures, and ridiculed the extravagant colonnades built with lavish gold and stone by the governor of Syria, Florentius, in the 390s (Or. 46. 44). He criticized the efforts of Proclus to enlarge the plethron, one of the sites of Antioch’s Olympic Games, on the grounds that such embellishments altered the religious character of the ceremonies (Or. 10). Libanius was aware that the reputations of governors depended in part on their building activities, but his priorities were elsewhere. Consider the beginning of a late letter to a student’s father, Factinianus, governor of Pamphylia (PLRE i: 323): ‘‘This befits a man who knows how to govern: not tiles, stones, walls, paintings, and useless colonnades, but encouraging the education of his subjects and having good sense and the ability to speak’’ (Ep. 1012).
Drawing firm conclusions may be hazardous, since the evidence for a realistic evaluation of the effect of education on attaining administrative and political power is neither complete nor consistent. Peter Brown has remarked, ‘‘it is difficult to measure the exact relationship between the widespread expectation that governors should be cultivated persons and the political practice of the age’’ (Brown 1992: 38). Sophists attributed paramount importance to educational accomplishments because of their constant preoccupation with recruiting and promoting their profession. They could not be objective, because they looked at the world through the lens of their own passion for, and mastery of, rhetoric. Libanius proclaimed with conviction that his art was ‘‘his bride’’ (Or. 1. 54), and often advised his students to be diligent because rhetoric was going to open doors for them. But, when cornered by critics who asked him how many provinces he had administered through his pupils, he was forced to admit that ‘‘those who are going to be good governors need rhetoric, but obtaining a provincial governorship is no proof of its attainment’’ (Or. 62. 50). In my opinion, the lack of praise for rhetoric in late antique inscriptions for governors is indicative of the fact that a high level of education was not a strict requirement but only a secondary (albeit attractive) component of advancement. If we remember that the rhetorical training of most students was not very extended, it will be easier to gauge realistically how much rhetoric was needed for office. Most of the students of Libanius attended his school for a limited time and attained only a fraction of the competence in rhetoric and knowledge of the classics that their teacher had. Doubtless there were governors who possessed a very high degree of literary culture, but it is likely that a couple of years of rhetoric were sufficient for many others. In a short period of schooling, they were able to attain and project that veneer of cultural refinement that the governing class found desirable.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
In 1903-27, Richard Foerster produced the monumental (12 vols.) edition of Libanius’ works (1903-27). A. F. Norman is responsible for most of the translations (see Norman 1969-77, 1992, 2000). Paul Petit (1988) and Pierre-Louis Malosse (2003) translated some orations, Bernadette Cabouret (2000) and Scott Bradbury (2004b) some of the letters. A. J. Festugil;re (1959) included in his study on education full or partial translations of several orations and of many of Libanius’ letters.
Peter Wolf (1952) was the first to produce a study of Libanius’ school, followed by Petit (1956). Both books are still useful. Peter Brown (1992) looked at the significance of a rhetorical education; Raffaella Cribiore studied Libanius’ educational works (Cribiore 2001) and wrote on his letters of evaluation of students (Cribiore 2003).
Petit also produced an excellent study of Antioch (1955); and in 1972 Liebeschuetz published a comprehensive work on this city that, together with A. H. M. Jones (1973), is to be used as main reference.
World History
